Where even the cloakroom attendant is famous

THE Big Mac and KFC aside, the Americas haven’t really provided the globe with notable cuisine. New York is the exception. While its contribution to satisfying our palates will pale compared to, say, the French or Italian nations – it has a limitless drive to endeavour and improve. What New yorkers are excellent at, perhaps better than anyone, is marketing, which is why most of us will have heard that even if one eats at a different New York restaurant every day over a lifetime one needn’t dine at the same place twice.

Even if it isn’t, 21 at 21 West 52 Street, (212-582-700) considers itself to be New York’s most famous restaurant. 21 is so famous that the men’s cloakroom attendant keeps a clipping book of the publicity he’s received. This excludes the countless films that have featured its toy-clad ceiling and red-and-white check covered tables.

I was dining with Diana Biederman, 21’s PR executive, who commended my order of a Caesar Salad ($18) to start, the 21 burger ($30) and crème brulee to finish. I was astounded by how ordinary the food was, with the exception of the soufflé potatoes ($12) and delicious 21 sauce – catsup with a kick. There’s no doubting its pedigree or its popularity but, to me, it seemed more like a venue famous for being famous rather than exceptional.

Furnace
Before Brooklyn became trendy, Peter Luger, 178 Broadway, Brooklyn, (718) 387-7400, was one of the few reasons people who didn’t live or work there traversed the Williamsburg bridge from Manhattan. Unlike the other dining spots, I had not heard about Peter Luger’s famous porterhouse steak, tomato and onion starter and shrimp. One local told me that Luger steaks began life cooked in the steel furnace – at extremely high temperatures for short periods - and then doused in butter.

I haven’t confirmed this story but after eating the meat I can easily believe the tale. Not only do you require a three-week advance booking but a wad of cash to cover the bill. As we left, my clients from Cape Town who were Luger regulars and met with me in New York – Robb and Janet Butler -pointed to the ATM that had been recently installed next to the building - obviously an antidote to the neophyte visitors who hauled out their credit card to pay and were shown the back door. Peter Luger is an old-fashioned steak house with a no-nonsense attitude. I think its 100-year-old reputation as the Best Steak House is reason enough to cross the bridge.

When South Africans talk about New York delis, Carnegie and 2nd Avenue delis come to mind. The former is so famous that there is regularly a queue snaking past its entrance and the reason I didn’t eat there. Prior to visiting New York I would refuse to queue for a table, even if it meant sitting at the bar. Not waiting for a New York table seems to be reserved for the very rich or famous and provided I was propping up the bar somewhere, I didn’t mind too much. Standing in a queue, however, is an entirely different matter and the sole reason why I didn’t dine at Carnegie. I tried the 2nd Ave Deli, 156, 2nd Avenue (at 10th street), New York 212-677-0606 instead.

Hallowed
I loved the collection of pickles on the table there and the menu that offered more choices than I had time to read. Opting for the pastrami, tongue and pressed-beef on rye I munched through the pickles while I waited. I knew what to expect - people talk about New York-deli sandwiches in the same hallowed tones as they do about open-heart surgery or clogged arteries - but I couldn’t imagine a sandwich the size they served.

After eating six pickles I couldn’t even finish the sandwich. I tried to bite into it but couldn’t get my mouth sufficiently open. It was, for me, actually too big. I would much more have enjoyed two sandwiches with less meat on them. Although I didn’t measure it, I bet I couldn’t fit it in my size–nine shoe – perhaps that’s where foot-long rolls get their name?

The restaurant I was most excited to visit was Nobu (212)219-0500. Securing a table felt like a real achievement as every local I spoke to remarked how difficult it was getting a reservation there. Fodor’s New York Guide listed it as a Fodor’s Choice, which also impressed me.

Fabulous
Even though I got to meet a number of work colleagues during my stay in the Big Apple, no one was willing to join me for the $100-a plate Omakase – chef’s choice menu. I’d made the reservation for two in the hope that finding a dining companion (one who would pay their own way) would be a synch. I arrived much earlier than my 8.30 dining slot after walking to TriBeCa’s Hudson and Franklin streets from SoHo, seemingly a long distance away.

I looked fabulous – wearing black on black with a black waistcoat, I was determined to look like a New Yorker. After three weeks there, I developed some of the New York attitude too and refused when the hostess wanted me to dine at the sushi bar as I arrived alone. Even though my table was at the intersection of the kitchen and bar, it gave me an excellent vantage point from which to observe.

Money, I decided, would be no object. After all, I’d bruised my credit cards at Bloomingdales and Macy’s’ sales over the Labour Day sell-out and behaving frugally now would be silly. I could have got by spending only $50 but I wanted to experience New York’s finest Japanese restaurant and no amount of probity was going to stop me.

Creamy
After a Wasabi-Bloody Mary cocktail the first of the eight courses was served: The Toro Tartar was served on ice with a green leaf and cherry-coloured fruit while the yellow-fin tuna sashimi salad and chef Matsuhisa’s signature dressing, the lobster and shitake mushroom tempura, was served with a creamy, spicy sauce. Possibly the most fabulous, broiled black Cod with Miso which had been marinated for three days, was served with Hudson Valley foie gras and pickled scallions and stem ginger

The Chilean Sea Bass with Black Bean Sauce was also spectacular. The Miso soup, served with clams, was milder than at Japanese restaurants here as was the snow-pea tempura - with just the slightest hint of batter.

While dinner at Nobu was unquestionably the most exciting modern Japanese cuisine I’ve experienced, I’m no longer sure if the R825 bill for dinner for one is acceptable.