In the midst of the polar vortex we had a late dinner at Mott St. Etta and I live down the street, a lot closer to Ruxbin. Unfortunately, the days I have off are the same days these excellent restaurants are closed. On very cold winter night we went over after I got out of work on a Wednesday.
The room was totally full of guests, designed well and beautifully appointed with intricate minimalism. Space heaters guarded the tunnel from outside and were positioned strategically by the host stand to blow back the arctic air.
The food and service were terrific. Writing this a couple weeks later, the standouts for me were the dumplings in house hot sauce, the sticky saucy chicken whole chicken wings, and the steaming bowl of beef shank broth. Etta was wearing a blanket.
I totally spaced out watching thinly shaved bonito writhe over hot noodles. I was actually in outer space: I was like Felix Baumgartner. I was tricked into thinking the bonito were living animals. Even on a Wednesday night in the deep winter, Mott St was alive!
The dessert we were recommended by the excellent server was the perfect ending: not too sweet tres leches made with coconut milk.
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