TARTINE 253 W. 11th st (at 4th st) 212.229.2611
January 17, 2012
by R.A.Mateo
In a city where French cooking seems to be on the downswing, it is satisfying to know that charming corner bistros such as Tartine still thrive. On a tiny corner of an unlikely cross section in the heart of the West Village (on 4th st AND 11th st), Tartine hold its corner spot dutifully, just as St. Ambroeus does down the block.
A peak through the demi curtains reveals lots of crammed heads and moving body parts, but little else. In the summer the precious few outdoor tables filled. In the winter, collecting snowflakes and bracing breezes. Once through the only front door, two waiters buzzing about and patience required on your part. Acknowledgment can arrive by a head nod or verbal how many, and as you stare at the plates and fulfilled cheeks in the room, you begin to wonder if you can stand it.
But rewards await the patient, as the two servers who run the show take no names or reservations, and the outside seating in twenty degree weather offer no solace. As with many popular and tiny NYC restos, if you can figure out the ebb and flow of the diners before you, then you can score a table within a very reasonable 15 minute wait. Then comes a game of musical chairs and live Tetris, a tenuous game of trying to get seated without knocking over anything or anybody. The bench seating by the windows being the most picturesque, getting into those cozy spots the challenge. But with enough pardons and strategy, you can breath a hefty sigh of relief as the standard water, bread and menu gets placed before you, the clock ticking on the specials of the day on the tiny black board. All conversations are now privy to your immediate neighbors, fine especially if you come to Tartine to concentrate on the food.
The fare is French and executed well. Some dishes are just outright delicious. From the rich Croque Monsier to exquisite quiche, homey quenelle to correct escargot, the superb French onion soup to the bright salads, the food is the thing at Tartine. Transportation to Paris begins subtly, and then flavors and aromas get the train rolling, finished by the dessert of its namesake in a variety of fruits, finishing the journey. There is a BYO policy, always a plus. Just don’t expect fancy glasses to be provided to drink your fancy Bordeaux.
The staff is all Latin, of course, but they have figured out how to dish out a French experience verité. Judging by the number of locals, ex-pat Frenchies, and Japanese tourists, you could easily make friends and feel right at home.