Saturday Evening Smörgåsbord

Today for the first time since we arrived here in August the weather turned cool enough to feel like Autumn. So, it seemed like the perfect night to sample the cuisine of Scandinavia without having to worry about the consequences of eating a heavy meal of Swedish Meatballs and then heading down into a cozy 90-plus degree subway station. For this occasion we chose to dine at Aquavit Cafe on 55th Street near Park Avenue.

The Cafe is the somewhat less formal auxiliary to the Aquavit Dining Room, with which it shares a common entrance and kitchen. We stopped by on a whim, curious to see if the three of us could get in without a reservation at that time on a Saturday evening. Luckily it was no problem, with the exception of what I have come to expect as the usual reaction from the maître d'. I find that they seem to practice inflection and intonation of the question "do you have a reservation?" in such a way as to suggest that they sincerely wish they could help you but honestly, you are foolish to think that you would be able to visit there without planning ahead. That ritual completed, he promptly led us to a table amid the half-empty dining area.

While I was certainly aware of the existence and reputation of Aquavit from previous visits and had been wanting to try it for some time, I did not realize until my visit there (sparked by a glance at a brochure near the restrooms) that the executive chef, Marcus Samuelsson, is the same person who has been enlisted by Starbuck's to try to bring some culinary credibility to their undeniably lackluster food offerings. I quickly recognized his image from the many times I have now seen it splashed against a wall next to a refrigerator case of plastic-clad sandwiches. While Starbuck's does seem to work in a few locally sourced baked goods, the rest of their food is industrially produced in regional baking centers, and I have found that it is typically on par with what one would get from a Hostess thrift shop. I stick with the Espresso. I have to admit that this realization definitely lowered my expectations for the meal I was about to have at Aquavit, as it is an undeniable reality that the chef's recent associations require his reputation to come to equilibrium somewhere between Aquavit and Starbuck's.

That said, we decided to start out in Scandinavian style with the herring sampler (three varieties, curried, pickled, and in a sour cream sauce) along with cocktails. I tried a Manhattan Martini, which was infused with cucumber and garnished with a couple of cucumber ribbons, while my wife had the Aquapolitan, which incorporated lemon and cranberry.

Not being a frequent preserved fish eater, I expected the herring to be somewhat challenging to our relatively untested (by herring, anyway) palates. It turned out not to be a challenge at all, though and all three of the herring varieties were interesting and appealing in their own way, without any strong fishiness. The sour cream version was the richest, and the curry had a pleasantly sweet flavor of apple.

Along with the herring, we were presented with a complimentary bowl of herbed popcorn, which little J in particular quite enjoyed (he wasn't big on the herring). They also provided a selection of breads including a couple of rolls and some flatbread.

For the main course, I tried the black cod while my wife chose to stay with the traditional meatballs. Although there wasn't a children's menu we managed to find an appropriate choice for J, a baked flatbread equivalent to pizza. We just had them hold the onions.

Of course the meatballs were good, and included the traditional lingonberries and whipped potatoes. The black cod was also excellent, served with a dash of whipped sweet potatoes and a sort of glazed eggplant. J was uncertain about the flatbread/pizza, but thankfully he enjoyed the bread and other starters enough to make up for it. Both adults gave it an enthusiastic thumbs up, though.

Regarding the earlier comments on reservations, as we were finishing we witnessed an interesting incident wherein an elderly woman, well-dressed and burdened by a couple of fresh shopping bags, came through the lobby and prepared to make herself comfortable at the table next to ours. Apparently she had just breezed past the maître d', and by the time he noticed her she was already in the cafe dining room. He quickly hustled over and, clearly somewhat flustered at this flagrant lack of deference to his assigned responsibilities, asked in an assertive I-call-the-shots-here tone if he could help her. He was obviously trying to hide his disbelief and impression that she either just dropped in from another very distant planet where people can just walk into a restaurant of Aquavit's caliber and just grab a seat of their choice, or else she was suffering from mental disease of a sort that would severely impair her understanding of social and restaurant conventions. For her part, it seemed that she felt this questioning was an affront to her dignity, and for a awkward moment it seemed that a confrontation was brewing.

Before it got started, though, another staff member, clearly recognizing her from across the room, quickly came over and greeted her by name. The maître d', realizing that this must be a regular (curious he didn't already know that if it was indeed the case) or friend of the staff, quickly backed off and tried to withdraw from the situation as graciously as possible. The woman didn't seem to want to let him get away easily, though, asking him a couple of times Taxi Driver-style if there was a problem.