A friend was celebrating a birthday, and in his honor we schlepped all way over to Brooklyn to visit a place he’s been wanting to go to “for months.” (Reservations aren’t easy to come by ....)
Situated at 659 Vanderbilt Avenue, in Prospect Heights, “Olmsted” is a small, 50-seat restaurant, that prides itself on its “seasonable, ingredient-driven menu,” with some components of their dishes coming right from their own backyard garden (last slide).
In addition to the indoor space being relatively tight and compact, the noise levels were also surprisingly high; making it difficult to enjoy a conversation. We also didn’t think the place merited all the hype, as our dishes were a “mixed bag.”
By way of example, I would like to meet the marketing genius who thought it was ok to take four little piece of watermelon, top them with extremely thin slices of fluke, confit lemon slices, call it “sushi,” and then charge customers $13 (basically for the privilege of consuming bits of fruit). We certainly couldn’t taste the fish. (You wouldn’t even know it was there; masked by all the citrus and salt.)
While the owner-chef certainly has an impressive pedigree — having been associated with such highly acclaimed places as Alinea, Atera, Blue Hill, Per Se and Stone Barns — we thought his “Watermelon Sushi” was way too tart, unworthy of the $13 ask, and scored it (what I thought was a generous) “C-.”
(No point waiting “months” for this dish, that’s for sure.)
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