Being as my Reserve job is now located in Manhattan, I’ve decided to include my restaurant outings in New York on my blog here too. While most of my readers are in DC, it is just a megabus ride away…
Upon the recommendation of my friend Adam, I ventured over to Hells Kitchen for the Chelsea Grill. My instructions to him were to find a place laid back, nice, ethnic but not spicey. I don’t think you can call Chelsea Grill ethnic, but anywhere you go in NY has a diverse vibe so… perhaps that was the interpretation.
A Google search for Chelsea Grill will bring you to a place in Chelsea that has since closed and relocated to Hells Kitchen on 9th between 46th and 47th.
The drink menu was a step above the standard. I opted for something with elderberry liquor that tasted like a capriana, but wasn’t. I would have been just as comfortable with a beer here as a fancy cocktail with the relaxed ambiance.
I sat on a padded bench along the exposed brick wall near the windowed entrance. A long bar with tiffany-looking lamps hanging over it led the rest of the way down the restaurant dotted with two-tops throughout the space. Behind my head was a very HOT pipe. Steam, hot water… I don’t know, but it added to the complete lack of pomp and stripped down décor of the place.
For dinner, I chose the grilled shrimp and ratatouille which was presented by the kitchen as if this were a high falootin’ restaurant. Mighty tasty and the shrimp were huge. The ratatouille was piled high, chunked larger than I’d expect and cooked enough to not be hard, but not be mush.
This was truly a neighborhood establishment. The waitress joked with the table for one next to us where a man was seated who had flowers. “For me?” … Sure… he handed the bouquet over to her referencing a bodega on the way home where he could get more. Only in New York.
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