At first glance, David Waltuck’s thrilling new élan can leave you cold.
The room’s too plain. The menu reads as ordinary. And, “I guess they’re not using the Veritas wine list,” my friend grumped over unfamiliar selections that momentarily had us stumped.
No, long-awaited élan (they insist on the lowercase é) is not Veritas, the storied, oenophile mecca that long occupied this address. Nor is it Chanterelle, chef-owner Waltuck’s legendary fine-dining establishment at two downtown locations for 30 years until 2009.
Memories of the first Chanterelle, on an Edward Hopper-esque Soho corner, haunt me to this day. But Waltuck’s return to the kitchen after five years in “consulting” limbo blows away the ghosts. His accessible bistro menu tastes nearly as rich as at French-driven Chanterelle, but contemporized with unforced, pitch-perfect Asian accents.
In contrast to Chanterelle’s crazy-expensive prix fixe dinners, élan serves “contemporary American” a la carte dishes at contemporary Manhattan prices — “starters” $6 to $13, appetizers $15 to $18 and most mains $24 to $32.
But I miss Chanterelle’s chandelier-lit grace. Élan’s standard-issue, high-ceiling dining room (white brick, bare tables, banquettes and mirrors) is hidden behind a bar where five Chuck Close self-portraits outnumbered customers one night.
An early visit didn’t make much impression on my palate, either. Waltuck’s famous grilled-seafood sausage that launched a thousand other shellfish tubes arrived nearly cold. But the house has been firing on all cylinders since then, as if Waltuck put Chanterelle behind him for good.
He mischievously plays with expectations. A complimentary starter of “everything” pretzel bread with mustard butter seems a prelude to a Germanic menu, like the one at Blaue Gans. But then comes chicken terrine, given a sunny, South-of-France treatment with sun-dried tomatoes and black olives.
Waltuck’s pistachio-coated, fig-filled foie gras “pops” on sticks struck me as more goofy than inspired. But paper-thin, soy- and sake-cured beef, air-dried and served with king oyster mushrooms in lemon cream, is not to be missed.
Steamed, sensuously composed zucchini blossoms, Aleppo pepper sprinkled and served with herbed cherry-tomato confit, reflect exacting, labor-intensive preparation.
The skip-no-steps approach informs the whole lineup. A humongous foie gras burger arrived unnaturally lush and flavorful on a toasted brioche bun.
Élan’s most original dishes might be called Chinese-Modern American. That’s not to be confused with American-Chinese, even though “General Tso’s sweetbreads” resembled a Chinatown stir-fry. But Waltuck’s wok mingled sweet, sour and spicy notes more harmoniously than most on Mott Street do.
Tea-smoked salmon was an inspired take on an overworked fish. Scented with jasmine, spices and Szechuan peppercorns beneath candy-crisp skin, it came on stir-fried julienned vegetables complexioned with tamarind-vadouvan vinaigrette.
Of pastry chef Diana Valenzuela’s fine desserts, the best is a many-splendored sundae with a rotating cast of fruit and ice cream flavors atop tres leches cake — as refreshing as it is decadent.
And the wine list? Our confusion turned to joy when we spotted Clendenen Family Vineyards 2008 Pinot Noir from Le Bon Climat in California’s Santa Maria Valley — a limited-production, grand vintage I once enjoyed at the estate, but didn’t expect to find on a Manhattan menu.
If you’re lost, sommelier Will Edwards can lead you out of the dark.
Meanwhile, Mr. Waltuck, welcome back from the cold.