The Flatiron Building is located at 175 Fifth Avenue in the borough of Manhattan, New York City and is considered to be a groundbreaking skyscraper. Upon completion in 1902, it was one of the tallest buildings in the city and one of only two skyscrapers north of 14th Street – the other being the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company Tower, one block east. The building sits on a triangular island-block formed by Fifth Avenue, Broadway and East 22nd Street, with 23rd Street grazing the triangle’s northern (uptown) peak. As with numerous other wedge-shaped buildings, the name „Flatiron” derives from its resemblance to a cast-iron clothes iron.
The building anchors the south (downtown) end of Madison Square and the north (uptown) end of the Ladies’ Mile Historic District. The neighborhood around it is called the Flatiron District after its signature building, which has become an icon of New York City.The building was designated a New York City landmark in 1966, was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1979,and designated a National Historic Landmark in 1989.
Obicà Mozzarella Bar Pizza e Cucina
The Rome-based mozzarella-bar chain celebrates its first decade with this Flatiron outpost, dishing out four kinds of buffalo-milk cheese, plus pizzas, salads and salumi.
“I just got chills, up and down my leg,” a fellow diner blurted out immediately after one bite of David Waltuck’s überbuttery foie gras ($4), cheekily served lollipop-style at the chef’s comeback restaurant, élan. Those chills aren’t hyperbole—the perfect spheres of smooth liver, coated in pistachios and curled around a figgy core, are so audaciously rich, it’d be a medical anomaly if your arteries didn’t give a good quiver.
Waltuck has never been one to shirk decadence—at his late, great Chanterelle, a 30-year-old Tribeca trailblazer that deftly married fine-dining finesse with mom-and-pop familiarity until it shuttered in 2009, the zucchini blossoms came gorged with black truffles, and sausages famously burst with lobster beneath their casings. That seafood sausage makes a congenial cameo at this looser, pomp-free follow-up, but don’t feel bound by Chanterelle nostalgia—the new stuff is just as unabashedly awash in duck fat but heaps more playful.
Under the watchful gaze of Chuck Close—three massive self-portraits claim one wall—and with Lorde’s moody crooning as soundtrack, a meal here starts and ends with pretzels. There are complimentary everything-spiced twists and butter with a subtle mustard-seed thrum to start, and two dense, heady chocolate truffles dotted with crunchy pretzel bits to finish.
Waltuck’s understated quirk is also on display in a bowl of guacamole swirled with ocean-brine uni and a whisper of wasabi ($16); potato pot stickers—hitting the sweet spot between pan-fried crisp and dumpling chew—stuffed with delicate, earthy summer truffles ($17); and tender General Tso’s–style sweetbreads, boosted from the takeout container with a ginger-carrot mirepoix and a pep of fresh chilies ($29).
Share the mains not out of generosity but necessity. Even after the puffed crust of your chicken potpie ($33) is pierced tableside, revealing airy hollowness beneath, the dish is still a colossal undertaking, with lardy-yet-light pastry yielding to two-bite hunks of juicy fowl, chanterelles and bacon. The off-menu duck-and-foie burger ($20), crowned with a cardiologist’s nightmare of bacon mayo, caramelized fig-onion chutney and truffle oil, downright overwhelms. Instead, opt for the duck breast ($31), which arrives like good steak, superbly supple, rare and anointed with smoky jus.
Pop a truffle in your mouth and unbuckle your belt for the stroll home—you will waddle from the added weight. But knowing that Waltuck’s cooking in New York again, you will waddle happy.—Christina Izzo
Restaurateur Chris Cannon was once the Dr. Dre of New York Italian dining, producing smash successes with chefs Scott Conant (L’Impero, Alto) and Michael White (Convivio, Marea). Now, three years after a very public split with White, Cannon is back in the spotlight.
His much-anticipated return, All’onda, isn’t pure Italian, but a modern hybrid, tinting the food of Venice with the flavors of Japan. The mash-up comes courtesy of chef Chris Jaeckle, who earned his Italian stripes at Ai Fiori, after sharpening his Japanese skills at Morimoto. Delicate border-crossing cuisine unfolds inside a duplex, sleek in cool shades of gray and polished wood.
All’onda shows occasional bursts of brilliance. Jaeckle’s Italian cooking leans to the East with a lyrical hamachi crudo ($17) tickled by olive oil and soy, or creamy fried sweetbreads ($18) spun smoky by fluttering bonito flakes. But the nouveau fusion falters with ricotta tortellini ($17) bobbing like wontons in undersalted kombu-Parmesan broth, a discordant mingling of dairy and dashi.
Those tortellini are a rare misstep in a lineup of solid midcourse pastas, the best of which boast rich sauces levitated by acid. Lemon brightens toothsome bucatini ($19), decadently slicked in smoked-uni cream sauce; vinegar rouses snail-shaped lumache ($19), with a gamey ragù bearing five-day-aged duck and the trace bitterness of chocolate.
Compared with the stunner pastas that precede them, All’onda’s mains mostly fizzle. Two fillets of skate ($25) cemented together with meat glue and lacquered with veal glaze masquerade as meat, but there’s no disguising their irredeemably chewy flesh. Guinea hen ($28) smeared with kombu butter shows off a leg as tender as duck confit; a shame its scrawny breast is desert dry.
Kitchen stumbles like tough proteins are surprisingly glaring errors for a chef who’s cooking in his comfort zone. Where Cannon’s projects have usually gone full speed out of the gate, All’onda is still struggling to hit full stride; looks like the path back to restaurant stardom is proving a steep hill to climb.
THE BOTTOM LINE
Meal highlights: Hamachi, sweetbreads, bucatini, lumache, monkfish, olive oil cake
Behind the bar: The Italian list is stacked with sparkling wines well beyond prosecco, but the inspired pairing for Jaeckle’s Japanese-tinged food is Il Carica L’Asino, a spicy white reminiscent of sake.
Vibe: In an awkward limbo between rustic and refined, All’onda is better suited to a business dinner than a romantic date.
Cocktail chatter: Nautical nods to Venice are everywhere; there’s a giant abstract photo of the city’s canal, boatlike cushion ties on the banquettes and sliding doors with porthole windows.
Soundcheck: True to All’onda’s name (which means “of the waves”), noise laps gently over the room.
By Daniel S. Meyer
One of the most central culinary neighborhoods in New York City, Koreatown can be found on 32nd Street between 5th Avenue and Broadway in Midtown Manhattan. All along the street you’ll find wonderful restaurants and shops serving the best of Korean cuisine, which is largely centered on rice, meat and vegetables. A meal is often made up of many side dishes, featuring ingredients such as soy sauce, sesame oil, red chili’s and soybean paste. Koreatown is a fantastic place to taste Korean food, and the following are some of our favorite spots along 32nd Street.
For a luxurious Korean dining experience, head to Gaonurri and enjoy the amazing view of the Empire State Building and delicious Korean cuisine! Cho Gan Gol on 35th Street & 6th Avenue is another beloved Korean restaurant that offers great value for your money. Koreatown is also a great place to get take-out for lunch or dinner. Woorjip is one of the most popular Korean delis on 32nd street and it’s easy to see why, as the food is absolutely delicious. E-Mo, a tiny hole in the wall, is another popular take-out place. If you’re staying in a vacation rental apartment in Midtown Manhattan, you can easily bring dinner back to your place to enjoy it!