The Spotted Pig.
The Breslin.
Salvations Taco and Burger.
Shall we go on?
We shall. To White Gold, April Bloomfield and Ken Friedman’s whole-animal butcher shop and three-meal restaurant on the Upper West Side. The butcher’s open now and you can sit and eat things from it starting this upcoming Tuesday.
We’ll tackle this one piece at a time. Much the same way you’ll approach buying edible animals here, hiyo! We jest, but not really, because if you’re in the market for meat, you can get any bit of beef, pork or poultry that exists at the butcher counter. Meaning your long search for a good, locally raised (of course) teres major or perfectly marbled air-dried ribeye to grill up is over. Just look at the rack behind the counter—that guy’s working up the meat as we speak.
Now, we’ve got faith in your ability to turn these materials into something delicious, but given the background here, we’ve got a hair more faith in theirs. That’s where the restaurant component comes in. You go up to the service counter and order breakfast or lunch.
For breakfast: how about a sausage-egg-and-cheese. Sounds good coming from them.
For lunch: let’s go with either the chopped cheese (a cheeseburger/cheesesteak hybrid) or the pastrami Reuben. Ha—“or.”
Then you sit down somewhere here in one of those charming little old-timey schoolhouse chairs (take a look around) and eat. Typical restaurant protocol.
For dinner: you’ll actually sit and be served for this one. It’ll essentially be a steakhouse that takes pains to be vegetarian-friendly with things like roast-mushroom toast with horseradish-kefir cream.
Again, how restaurants work.
The Breslin.
Salvations Taco and Burger.
Shall we go on?
We shall. To White Gold, April Bloomfield and Ken Friedman’s whole-animal butcher shop and three-meal restaurant on the Upper West Side. The butcher’s open now and you can sit and eat things from it starting this upcoming Tuesday.
We’ll tackle this one piece at a time. Much the same way you’ll approach buying edible animals here, hiyo! We jest, but not really, because if you’re in the market for meat, you can get any bit of beef, pork or poultry that exists at the butcher counter. Meaning your long search for a good, locally raised (of course) teres major or perfectly marbled air-dried ribeye to grill up is over. Just look at the rack behind the counter—that guy’s working up the meat as we speak.
Now, we’ve got faith in your ability to turn these materials into something delicious, but given the background here, we’ve got a hair more faith in theirs. That’s where the restaurant component comes in. You go up to the service counter and order breakfast or lunch.
For breakfast: how about a sausage-egg-and-cheese. Sounds good coming from them.
For lunch: let’s go with either the chopped cheese (a cheeseburger/cheesesteak hybrid) or the pastrami Reuben. Ha—“or.”
Then you sit down somewhere here in one of those charming little old-timey schoolhouse chairs (take a look around) and eat. Typical restaurant protocol.
For dinner: you’ll actually sit and be served for this one. It’ll essentially be a steakhouse that takes pains to be vegetarian-friendly with things like roast-mushroom toast with horseradish-kefir cream.
Again, how restaurants work.
