The Great Migration
The New Yorkers Journey to Garden Dining

By K.E Miner

The really beautiful days in Manhattan come in small moments. For a few short weeks in Spring, just after the piercing winds and just before the oppressive boiler room humidity and again in the Fall, after the heat has given way to crisp breezes that foretell the coming of winter. During these two sections of the calendar year, Manhattanites revel in outdoor dining. The combination of pleasant weather and the promise of the naturalist beauty of a patio garden in the middle of Gotham, lead us achingly and self-possessed to restaurants that offer outdoor eating.

Last week, Manhattanites experienced one of our first stretches of 75 degree weather this season. Our collective search for a restauraunt became a search for the appropriate garden, terrace and patio. It seemed a shame to sit indoors when we had spent the last five months having an intimate relationship with our space heaters.

Thus began the great migration. A veritable diaspora of food-loving urbanites soothing our cramped souls in the cool breezes of early evening garden dining. Hard to imagine, but food was something of a lesser priority last week, being over-taken by the need to convalesce in the purity of natural surroundings.

This column is dedicated to my fellow New Yorkers provoked and inspired to find our true primordial souls in the simplicity of a garden. For you, there are havens just around the corner.

Just a short distance from the neurotic freneticism of Times Square is the oldest restaurant garden in Gotham. Barbetta, a stone and fauna memorial to an ancient Italian country villa is an invitation to patrician mythology. I am most enchanted by the dreamy cadence of the fountain, the lush flourish of greenery and the cool stone flooring that makes you forget just momentarily that you are in a big city in the year 2000. Owned for the last 94 years by the Maloglio Family, Barbetta is probably in need of a refreshing face lift but its imperfection is also its perfection and the crumpled edges only bring you deeper into the aesthetic mystery.

In the true fashion of outdoor eating, the menu includes game, a paillard rack of venison accompanied by greens and fruits that is scrumptious. For those less inclined to order game, the Atlantic salmon ensconced in a delightful Hollandaise was just light enough for warm weather dining.

Verbena is one of my favorite date restaurants in any weather. A sparse modern feel inside that still resonates warm and cozy, gives way to a summer haven on the back patio. Surrounded by thick, twisting vines, and the presence of bricked brownstone walls all around, Verbena is not transcendent of the city but is the city itself in just one of its forms, making it a wonderful place to entertain the out-of-towners.

I am a personal fan of Diane Foley, chef and owner of Verbena. She has a refreshing originality that exists somewhere between comfortable and exotic. The ravioli with butternut squash, drenched in the flavors of roasted oranges and sage is particularly pleasing. Foley's creativity is unique but not uncomfortable to the palate, imaginative and romantic. Foley's desserts, particularly the crème brulee infused with, predictably enough, verbena, are very close to a sin but tasty enough to ward off any guilt. I suggest making room.

If you're in the West village and are looking for a lovely aesthetic experience with consistently hearty American cuisine, Grove is your best bet. A favorite neighborhood haunt, Grove has a magnificent garden and a lively menu selection that doesn't reinvent the wheel but delivers tasty food consistently. If you've lived in New York more than three years, you'll probably know the people sitting two tables over and so, there is a familiarity and charm that is welcoming here.

I have a custom at Grove that begins with the steamed mussels and ends with the hangar steak. After a day of boutique shopping, the scent of blooming flowers and
aged meat is a much anticipated aphrodisiac that can be had in a jeans and sneakers kind of attire.

For a little celebrity eye candy, Sugar Bar, owned by the 1970's disco duo Nick Ashford and Valerie Simpson is a fun and creative little garden restaurant tucked into the Upper West Side. A surprise for this location, the garden is an oasis in a neighbor hood that still struggles to compete in the "fabulous restaurant" genre.

Sugar Bar has a small but intimate garden that evokes romance and sensuality, in contrast to the menu which is a hybrid of spicy and exciting Caribbean flavors. Cinnamon, lime and guava permeate the dishes, making dining here a kind of other-worldy cultural experience that is fun and unexpected. Memorable moments include the candied squash, which is a little down-home and a little haute-cuisine all rolled up into one.

Finally, go down to Little Italy just for the taste of the Parisian in Gerard Maurice's Le Jardin Bistro. Simplicity and under-stated elegance is the key to this traditional restaurant. The garden is an aged testimonial to the 1920's French country side, where grape vines act like flamboyant wallpaper, and according to Gerard have been known to generate bottles of wine on occasion.

The food is satisfyingly traditional, lifting you from the streets of New York across the vast expanse of ocean to a tiny old world restaurant tucked into a winding street. I am particularly fond of the melt-in-your-mouth tuna tartare and the cassoulet that harkens back to thoughts of home-cooking and comfort food.

Bring someone you love.

This is our diaspora. The traditional shedding of ski parkas and wool sweaters in New York. The collective migration to garden patios and steaks on the grill. The inexorable pull toward the natural surroundings that nurse our spirit.

I wonder if West Coast diners, full and satisfied with 260 warm weather days a year, have the same appreciation for garden dining as us beleaguered, and slowly-thawing New Yorkers? With the sun warming our little corner of the world again, we are basking in the newly blossoming gardens, content in the moment and aware that it will all slip away so quickly.

Come join us& but don't wait too long.