Piegato

Kits

Concoquere

Aistheta

Charlie Rose/Frank Bruni: Italian Food

Perchance

Heiligen

Glissière

Boulud, Batali, Meyer

GOTHAM

By JILL SIERACKI

Regardless of whether you consider yourself a “foodie” or just dabble in New York gastronomy, you have certainly heard the names Mario Batali, Daniel Boulud, and Danny Meyer. The three men represent more than two dozen Manhattan eateries, ranging in size and scope from a New York Times four-star establishment to a multifaceted gourmet market or casual burger chain so popular even New Yorkers are willing to wait hours in line. However, their accomplishments are hardly limited to the kitchen—each has expanded his empire into products, cookbooks, and even television programs.

And while their areas of expertise greatly vary, there are many things the three have in common. “A through-line between us is restaurants with soul,” says Meyer. “You can’t be born with soul, but you can definitely earn soul over time, and it starts with the spirit of the restaurateur. It starts with the sense that nothing matters more than having this idea, pulling together a really talented team to execute the idea, caring deeply about the relationship between your idea and the staff, guests, and community, and you end up with these relationships with your alumni, with the regulars at the restaurant, with your community— it’s a really cool thing.”

Over the course of their careers, these three restaurateurs have produced an exemplary roster of alumni—Tom Colicchio, Andrew Carmellini, and White House executive pastry chef Billy Yosses among them—and in the coming months will be celebrating several milestones: Boulud will be marking the 20th anniversary of his namesake Upper East Side restaurant Daniel next fall as well as launching a new cookbook and restaurant in Toronto. Meyer is expanding his Shake Shack brand to Long Island and Connecticut, finishing Family Table, a cookbook filled with menus from nightly staff dinners, and releasing a new cookbook from Gramercy Tavern. Batali is expanding his Eataly empire, opening Carnevino in Hong Kong, and finishing In Search of the Genuine, a book cowritten by Jim Harrison about game cooking throughout the Midwest and beyond.

Here, as the city prepares to celebrate all-things epicurean at the Food Network New York City Wine & Food Festival, which hosts events across Manhattan and Brooklyn October 11 through 14, Batali, Boulud, and Meyer gathered at Meyer’s Maialino to discuss Yelpers’ influence on New York dining, being the Ivy League of restaurants, and the importance of staying the course.

How do you think this month’s Food Network New York Wine & Food Festival has impacted the dining scene in the city?

MARIO BATALI: When I look at the year, I see that there are really three events that I pay attention to. The first one has always been the James Beard Foundation Awards; then there’s the Big Apple Barbeque Block Party (it just brings in so much information, so many cool people, and different stuff than we would normally do); and then the Wine & Food Festival. It makes sure that we’re always still at the crossroads. It’s bringing everyone in, first of all for them to show us what they are doing, but also it gives us the opportunity and the pride to show people what we’re doing.

DANNY MEYER: And this particular one has also done great things to fight hunger. They raise an enormous amount of money for the Food Bank for New York City and Share Our Strength.

DANIEL BOULUD: We are in the business of entertaining people, but we are not in the business of entertaining them publicly. And I think Wine & Food offers an opportunity to be entertained with the great chefs, the great talents, the great foods.

For each of you, the majority of your restaurants are in New York. Why have you chosen to base your careers here?

DM: I don’t know of a city on earth that has a better balance of talented staff, a more sophisticated potential clientele from which you can draw, and a more interested media to shine a light if you do a good job. You have those three things together; where else would you rather be?

MB: You can totally curate an experience to the exact level that you want, knowing that even if you turn a few people off, because there’s such a good volume here, you’ll turn even more people on. In New York City, even if 2 million people hate you, there are 9 million left—and you don’t say that with some strange, swollen self-worth. It’s more that if we decide to play this music, have the lights like this, and serve this kind of food, there is a group of people who are going to support that.

DB: After living in France, I went to Denmark, and I realized that I was in a country with no audience. To me, coming to New York meant you could stay who you are and you’re going to have an audience for it with the money to support what we can do, which is great food, great service, great wine.

What do you see as the exciting culinary trends happening in New York right now?

DM: Better beverages. Chefs at breakfast are looking at fresh-pressed juices the same way that they’re looking at beer, coffee, and wine—and it should have the same level of sophistication.

DB: Growing food on your roof like Danny does at North End Grill; that’s the big thing. [Tribeca Grill chef] Don Pintabona was trying to open a mushroom farm in an old silo in Brooklyn. Urban farming is how close we can bring it to the consumer. That’s interesting, but we’re not really chasing the trends.

DM: Everything that we do is based on classic technique and hospitality. And what’s great is you get to see how people who have graduated from our kitchens put their own twist on that technique and make something their own. New York is an incredibly expensive city in which to open a restaurant, which is why you see so much casual stuff happening, especially in Brooklyn.

MB: When I got here in 1992 the East Village was where people who couldn’t open a restaurant or an atelier went because the rent was low and the threshold to get into your own business was much lower. Now the East Village is expensive, and the people are in Williamsburg. You find the crazy, arty ideas in places where the thresholds to get into the game are much lower.

DM: When there are fewer seats to fill, you can have a sharper point of view: I don’t need salmon on my menu if I only have 22 seats; as soon as I have 180 seats, I have to have salmon. Every year that I’ve been in this business, there’s a new trend. The first year I got into business in New York City, 1985, the big trend was mesquite grilling. Then two years later the next trend was architectural presentation on the plate. The next t rend was making your sauces out of vegetable juices. A restaurant needs to stand the test of time, and, year in and year out, the staff is great, the food is consistent, the place is full—it is so much harder than you think to do that, especially because the media loves to focus on what’s brand new and you can only be new once. In order to stay in business and stay busy, you’re really developing a culture.

What is a unique challenge to operating a restaurant in New York?

MB: The tendency to constantly chase the microhits that involve being very hip right now. In a world where social media is becoming so relevant, it can often deter you from keeping a very steady ship, thinking, “I so want to do a pop-up restaurant with René Redzepi,” but in the long term, maybe your brand is better served by a slightly longer vision. There’s so much temptation to involve yourself in the things that everyone does. My greatest weakness is always wanting to copy somebody else very quickly, and in New York City there’s no better place to do that.

DB: Once you drop somewhere, you start to really root yourself. I stay in the Upper East Side; I landed there by coincidence in 1982, and I never left the zip code.

DM: I agree 100 percent. The only thing maybe is the other side of the coin of what Mario said is that in a city that has so many restaurants and so many people commenting on those restaurants....

MB: Yelpers, we call them....

DM: ....it’s increasingly hard to come up with an idea that is both fresh and relevant today. The fads come and go; they always have, but the one thing that remains is everyone wants to go out, be well treated, and eat good food. I don’t think any of us shies away from competition.

What are some restaurants that you enjoy going to that are not your own?

DB: The first week I arrived in New York, the president of the hotel I was working for said, “We’d like to take you to the best restaurant,” and they took me to the Four Seasons. I didn’t really understand what “the best” meant at that time, but for most birthdays for the past 25 years, I’ve been going to the Four Seasons just because I love that place.

MB: My birthday is coming up, and it’s actually between the Four Seasons (because my children have never been there) and Blanca, which is [Bushwick restaurant] Roberta’s tasting menu place. I’m going to let the kids choose.

DM: Out of 10 dining experiences, I really like six of them to be at a place I’ve never been because I learn something new, but I also really like going to four that have been around for a long time. I love going to restaurants that have the equivalent of bottle age, where the pedigree has shown through, and the restaurant has actually enriched itself. Of the new places I try, I would say that 90 percent of them are either opened by friends or by alumni.

MB: Let me just suggest that each of us choosing four restaurants, three of those four will be within four to six blocks of our house because that’s how New Yorkers operate. I will go to Pearl Oyster Bar at least once or twice a month.

DM: That’s Casa Mono for us.

MB: You go to these places because they give you exactly what you came for. People aren’t going to take a taxi up to Rao’s even if they like lemon chicken and fusilli with cabbage and sausage. New Yorkers are very geographically based. In a city where it is so tempting to be segmented into being the pizza guy or the dumpling guy, how do you define yourselves?

MB: All three of us are the guys who no longer want our restaurants to be a dinner party. We want to offer a variety of experiences. We’re not the meatball guy—although we’ll have a great meatball—sadly and yet remarkably, we’re The Man. We are not the indie band, although we were the indie bands when we started, and we have indie band brains. We’re the guys who the young guys have to figure out how to beat or compete with.

DM: If I were going to make a metaphor, it would be almost like being three great universities because I think that people who come through our restaurants to work go on to do really remarkable things. I would love if the metaphor is that we were universities—Ivy League no less.

Nicholas Lander

PHAIDON

An Interview with Nicholas Lander

What did you learn from writing the new book, The Art of the Restaurateur? I’m not sure. It certainly reinforced an opinion I’ve held for years and years: everyone loves the restaurant business. They think it’s incredibly easy, because they do it at home for four to six people, so why not do it every night of the week for 60? The most satisfying aspect of writing the book was coming up with the smaller chapters which follow each of the profiles. These deal with distinct aspects of the business, like what you should put on the walls, or how you’re going to light the place, or how you keep up with continuous innovation. Interestingly, everyone in the restaurant business has picked up on those, and said how useful they are.

You used to own L’Escargot restaurant in central London. Did you ever need to turn people away from the door? No, I don’t think so. We were in Soho, so dress code was never an issue, and I had this wonderful manageress, Elena (Salvoni); if she told you off it was worse than a prison sentence. In terms of rules, I think you either always have an open door, or if you want to put up some ridiculous rules, then you should make them very clear from the start. I don’t think rules work though. However, I do know that currently for some restaurateurs, dress code is an issue. Smart casual means nothing, and people still want a night out. So when they go out, they dress up. They then sit next to someone who is earning considerably more than they are, and is wearing torn jeans, a t-shirt and a hugely expensive jacket. For the customers who’ve dressed up smartly, it’s a bit of a disappointment. How does the restaurateur handle that? I don’t think there’s anything you can do.

So did writing the book make you want to go back to running a restaurant? No, instant divorce! I had to sell because I was ill, and the illness was stress-related, so I knew that if I went back into the business it would ruin my health again. It's completely out of the question. Being a restaurant correspondent has allowed me to have one foot in the restaurant business without having to run one. It has just strengthened my love for the business and the people in it. Being a restauranteur is very like being a sportsman. You’re at your best in your early twenties; you can get better, but as you get older you have to learn to delegate. All those in the book have learnt that.

So what, for you, constitutes a good restaurant? A place that makes you welcome when you come in; a place that makes life easy for a customer; a place that’s flattering for women too. Life’s tough, we all work very hard, any time spent in a restaurant, other than for a business meeting, is usually a break from the working life. It’s got to offer good food, good wine and good service, and its got to be done with a sense of elegance and humour. It can’t take itself too seriously. The most common reason for a restaurant failing is over optimism combined with lack of finance. They used to say the same number of covers come onto the London market each month as come off, and I think that’s probably still true.

You’ve been The Financial Times’s restaurant critic for the past 20 years. Are there as many city boys cashing-up and moving into the business as ever? Well, there are a lot of people who are looking for a more ‘lifestyle’ career. I’ve just written about the E5 bakehouse in London Fields, and the guy there is being called up quite regularly by professionals in The City, who want to swap their high paid jobs for getting up at 4am and becoming a baker. It’s now done far more openly nowadays. In my day, you only went into cooking if you weren’t good at anything else. Thirty years ago, I was the first young Englishman to open a restaurant. In London, it was a profession for the French, the Spanish the Italians, and lots of Germans, because of the hotels. Restaurants used to be something for 40 to 60-year-olds, somewhere where you had a drink in the bar before you placed your order. It’s changed a lot.

What sort of cuisine interests you at the moment? I’m fascinated by everything, but I’m particularly interested in Korean food; it’s hot spicy, a lot of slow cooked dishes that I really enjoy. There’s a nice place just opened in Soho called Bibigo, it’s really good. I think property is key. And for a variety of reasons, as the East of London has opened up, with the Olympics , Kings Cross, its opened up an enormous amount of space; you bring in a kitchen and you have some fun.

From your research for the book, how would you characterise a good restaurateur’s motivation? It’s social; they do it because they love their fellow human beings. They’re not in it to get rich. I think all of those profiled in the book love food, and I think all of them enjoy being in the kitchen and the running of the kitchen. I don’t know them well enough personally to know whether they’re good cooks.

You live in London, how have the city's pop-up restaurants, its food trucks and informal restaurant culture changed the dining scene? It’s been amazing. It’s come about through symbiosis – landlords and property people being more appreciative of what a restaurant can bring. It’s opening up the east of the city and bringing in more and more real estate. Unfortunately, it’s one aspect of London that’s very difficult to write about, because once you’ve written about it, it’s gone. But the French are incredibly jealous. I was interviewed by someone from Le Figaro, and she said, “we have no pop up restaurants in Paris and we have two food trucks.” Of course, they do have a million bars and bistros.

Stick your neck out: which city serves the best food: London, New York or Los Angeles? Well, I find that a slightly invidious question. If you’re in London, it doesn’t matter how good the food is in New York or Los Angeles, you can’t satisfy your appetite, even with the fastest plane. And once you’re away from the city in which you work, everything tastes better. You can switch your mobile off, you don’t have to worry about the baby sitter, you can have some fun. Nevertheless, we are very lucky to be in London at the moment, and it’s going to get better. I think there are a lot of young people coming into the business and they know unless they offer very good value for money, they won’t be open for long.

How important are good table manners? They’re vital, but it's not just about table manners. I think a lot of restaurant-goers assume waiters are mind readers, so they sit down and have a bad experience and assume its the waiter’s fault. They haven’t said to the staff that they’re there for a particular reason and want to order straight away. The waiter won’t be upset, they’ll be thrilled. As far as good service goes the best service is just anticipating what the customer wants and being there for them 30 seconds before they want it. There’s a restaurateur in the book who says he knows if the service is going well if he walks in and sees that peoples eyes are fixed on each other – that’s the sign of good service.

And lastly, where did you eat last night? At home, I cooked and it was very good fun, but tonight we’re (he and his wife, legendary wine expert Jancis Robinson) going out to a very nice place called the Green Man and French Horn, which is a wine bar that specialises in cooking from the Loire, on St Martins Lane.

Hayrick

Enabler

Guz