Wallsé

Our last night in New York, Mr. Food Musings and I went to Wallsé with our friends K. and C. who immigrated to The Big City from The Smaller, Better City nearly two years ago. "For work," they said. We ignored them as long as we could - a deserved punishment for abandonment, I think - but finally agreed to go east.

We met them on a warm Sunday evening at Turks and Frogs in the West Village. I'd already had a few glasses of wine with Little Sister, so my normally keen powers of observation were limited to what was sitting in the ice bucket (a bottle of the Grande Dame herself) and what K. was wearing for the occasion (culottes, a vintage-y beaded cardigan and sexy high heels in deep cerulean blue. Oh, Envy, I cry your name!)

When we'd finished the bottle, we headed down the street to our dinner destination. Wallsé is a sort of K. and C. fave - "It's become our Zuni," she wrote in an email when we were negotiating restaurants - with good reason. Chef Kurt Gutenbrunner turns out food based on his native Austrian cuisine that manages to be both hearty and delicate.

The night we ate there it was relatively quiet. We shared the dining room with only a handful of other people, and I felt like our table was bound in a sort of cocoon, insulated from everyone else, our waiter - a German-speaking Czech whose accent intrigued the former linguist in me - our only link to the outside world. Wallsé is a semi-stark space, mostly black and white punctuated by vivid swashes of color: bold angry paintings and candy-hued cocktails like the purpley-pink raspberry martini or melon-colored pomegranate champagne fizz offset the drama. Single-serving pitchers of water and mini Cala lilies added a softening touch that I found endearing.

I admit that I was enjoying catching up with K. and C. so much that I nearly (though not completely) abandoned my foodie duties. Dishes that stood out include the two lobster appetizers, one a moist, sumptuous ravioli accented with dill, the other served in fresh hunks with a crisp potato rosti and bright citrus salad. The squash soup with mushroom ravioli was intense, earthy, and so rich that when the waiter told us it contained no cream, I gave him a conspiratorial wink. Thin slices of sweet pineapple lay underneath the foie gras terrine; this dish delighted me in a way no other food combination has in recent memory. The flavors were distinct, the pineapple a surprise with every bite, and still they walked hand in hand all the way through my mouth, a perfect couple.

Entrees like cod strudel, kavalierspitz (beef shoulder) and roasted duck were soft, savory and satisfying. My gluttony got the better of me when a dish of kaisespätzle was brought to the table; I recall shoving my fork underneath the cheesy egg noodles over and over and over again, oblivious to anyone else in the room. Perhaps the others tried some - I have no idea. Apparently an apfelstrudel was ordered, but by that time I was using my slide rule and protractor to figure out how to navigate the narrow, treacherous steps leading down to the bathrooms with my swollen belly.

Th wines were outstanding - Mr. FM made the waiter write them down: the white, a Pichler Von Den Terassen Gruner Veltliner 1999, and the red, a Zweigelt Leo Hillinger 2003.

We finished the night off with drinks at our hotel bar and promises to meet for New Year's Eve in a snowy locale. One, I might add, near the West Coast.

Turks and Frogs, New York, 323 West 11th Street, 212-691-8875
Wallsé, New York, 344 West 11th Street, 212-352-2300