On Smith Street, where moderately priced
bistros are the norm, Chestnut, which opened in November, stands
out as an original.
The brainchild of co-owners Peter Miscikoski and Susan Daily
is unlike some of its neighbors that try to replicate French
bistros right down to the zinc mirrors and steak frites, or elfin
villages with dining areas marked Meat Loaf Lane.
Named for the warmly hued wood used for the cafe’s floor and
bar, Chestnut is a simple yet elegant space that makes the perfect
backdrop for chef David Wurth’s rustic menu.
Wurth has previously worked at Savoy, in Manhattan, a restaurant
that has become a clearing-house for Brooklyn culinary talent.
His cooking brings a palette of bold flavors to the table. Bacon,
red wine and cabbage make a presence in his dishes. He has great
affection for rich meat like duck breast and rib-eye steak, and
anyone who can do what he does with liver – he has two varieties
on the menu, a chunky chicken liver appetizer with apples that’s
spread on toast and a delectably piquant calf’s liver entree
– deserves the kind of following he’s already brought to Chestnut.
A dinner begins with an innovative starter that sets the tone
for the meal. On a round, silver tray, is a small dish of house-made,
not too spicy, not too sweet sliced pickles, that, in their unassuming
way, may be the finest amuse bouche to hit Brooklyn tables. With
the pickles come a large chunk of chewy, country bread and a
saucer of soft butter flecked with chives and fennel seeds, then
drizzled with extra virgin olive oil.
As amusing and delicious as you’ll find the bread and pickles,
the appetizer of smoked scallops and fingerling potatoes in a
hot mustard sauce will make you forget them quickly. I’ve never
eaten a smoked scallop. Smoked salmon, of course; oysters, yes;
and mussels, too, but smoked scallops were something new.
Wurth uses dry sea scallops, not the kind found in supermarkets
and some fish markets that are injected with water and are too
moist to form a proper crust. His are large and smoked over black
tea until they have the rusty, smoky patina of a raku-fired pot.
The exterior of the scallop becomes crisp and takes on a deep,
dusky flavor, while the interior stays sweet and as creamy as
a marshmallow. A light sauce made spicy with dry mustard, complements
the scallops and is delicious enough to eat on its own. The fingerling
potatoes make a quiet partner that, when bitten into after a
bite of scallop, throw the flavor of the shellfish into high
relief.
Less dazzling then the scallops, yet equally enjoyable, was a
soul-warming soup right out of a Bruegel painting. The combination
of meaty stock, crisp nuggets of salty-sweet bacon, tender chunks
of butternut squash and mild flavored kale, is peasant food gussied
up with a dollop of ancho chile-laced butter.
On the list of specials was pan-seared calf’s liver.
I know, I know, but order it with an open mind.
Wurth’s rendition bears no resemblance to the leathery, odiferous
versions served in diners or at childhood tables. The impeccably
fresh liver is purchased from an organic farm in Vermont. Searing
the liver quickly gives it a crisp crust and a mousse-like center.
Sauteed apples and caramelized onions add sweetness, strips of
smoky bacon lend saltiness, and a sauce of reduced veal stock
and a touch of mustard is luxuriously buttery.
Nothing is better with liver than mashed potatoes, and the chunky
mound gilding the plate were enriched with the earthy aroma of
parsnips.
You’re probably wondering why a dish that so many people instinctively
pass on garners such praise. When done properly, as it is at
Chestnut, liver – yes, liver – is inspiring.
I’ve had sea bass a hundred different ways, but never with an
olive tapenade. Wurth sprinkles the filet with sea salt and pan
fries until the skin is brittle. With a smear of tapenade made
from South American Alfonso olives that are oily and not too
sharp, the fish tastes even fresher and sweeter; the olive paste
more pungent and salty. Adding slices of unripe, fried plantains
to the plate didn’t work – they were almost flavorless and didn’t
contribute much visually.
The two pastas offered during my visit were good examples of
Wurth’s fondness for humble ingredients: spaghetti with Gorgonzola
cheese, cabbage and celery, and rutabaga ravioli with peppers
and Serrano ham.
Wurth functions as the restaurant’s pastry chef, as well, which
is why the desserts reflect the same simple yet special quality
reflected in the entrees: fig jam is paired with Maytag blue
cheese. Homemade ice cream changes nightly. One evening’s offering
was caramel ice cream served with caramel sauce; but there’s
also a chocolate cake; a plate of macaroons, chocolate, dried
fruit and nuts; and a delectable apple cobbler with a crown of
crisp, cake-like topping and a hefty dollop of tart Zabaglione
custard that did a little two-step with the winy apples.
Coffee and tea are served in individual French presses – (two-cup
glass cylinders with a screen on top that is pushed to the bottom
once the grounds or tealeaves have steeped). I’m not sure the
presses create a better cup of coffee or tea, but they make an
attractive presentation.
On a freezing January night when icy rain swirled down Smith
Street and cut through heavy parkas, Chestnut, just two months
old, had all 16 tables full and turning over.
That’s what happens when there’s an original in the kitchen.
Chestnut (271 Smith St. between DeGraw
and Sackett streets in Carroll Gardens) accepts Visa and MasterCard.
Entrees: $8-$19. Chestnut serves dinner Tuesdays through Sundays.
Closed Mondays. For reservations, call (718) 243-0049.
