On Wednesday night I had dinner at Apiary with my friend Judy.
In case you were wondering, Apiary is where the culinary wunderkind of the '90's, Scott Bryan, ended up. You may remember him from the luminous Luma, the shimmering jewel of the West Village, Indigo, or more recently, the renowned Veritas.
Picking up where he left off, Chef Bryan is still doing what he does best, great food, well-prepared, in a really sweet room in a surprising neighborhood. Surrounded by NYU dorms, I wonder if the come-lately grownups of the Village are aware that they have a genuine culinary star in their midst. Guy rated a whole chapter to himself in Anthony Bourdain's first book, fer chrissakes. Look it up. Chapter was called "Life of Bryan."
I always wondered why he didn't sell out and become one of those Food Network hoors like Molto Mario or Emeril Lagasse. On the one hand, I think he totally missed out on making some serious-ass money. On the other hand, I respect him more for not selling out. From a purely selfish standpoint, if he had sold out, he'd probably have some bland eponymous restaurant, serving bland food, filled with tourists and we regular folk wouldn't be able to walk in and ask, "is Chef Bryan in the kitchen tonight?" and get an affirmative answer because he isn't off shooting Iron Chef or something, and thus are able to enjoy his food and (frankly) fantastic wine list whenever we want to.
So, to Chef Scott Bryan, this New Yorker thanks you for not selling out!
3 comments:
Now you've got me looking for my old copy of the Bourdain. Of course that was before Borudain became a boring guy with a travel show.
I agree.
Bourdain was much more fun when he was the sorta angry ex-junkie serving slabs of meat at Les Halles and slagging on vegetarians and people who order their steak well-done.
"Feed the bitch"--I read that in a hotel and I was pounding the carpet laughing and somebody complained.
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