gentleman farmer.
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A few Sundays ago, my friend Peter invited me out to dinner at Gentleman Farmer, the French-American spot on the Lower East Side that had just received a very favorable writeup in the New Yorker. Peter was intrigued by the description of the bison tartare, but in the end, that dish proved to be the only disappointment — the bison meat was cut a bit too thick for tartare purposes, and so ended up a touch chewy. Everything else, though, was great, from the french onion soup, to the venison sausage with blueberry (!) reduction, to the ostrich steak with rosemary potato gratin — all interesting and nuanced preparations that didn’t feel heavy or autumnal, despite the potential gaminess of it all. And the glass (er, maybe two) of Gruner that I had was just short of spectacular. It’s a tiny space — 25 seats, tops — so come early or be sure to make a reservation. But it’s totally worth it.
Afterwards, of course, one more photo had to be taken.
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hong-an tran 