Photogenic/useless takeout container
It’s not clear why the Wall Street Journal is just now catching on to mac-and-cheese as a “trend.” Haven’t the “young and hip,” to use the WSJ’s words, been eating the dish in all its post-Kraft, chef-enhanced riffs for at least a decade now? Anyway, following East Village mac-and-cheese shop S’Mac’s lead, the mostly take-out-geared Macbar just opened in Nolita, serving a dozen variations on the dish at prices that range from $6 (for a small classic made with American cheese and cheddar) to $18 (for a large made with lobster, cognac, and mascarpone). And although Macbar has the same owners as next-door’s somewhat insipid Delicatessen—where Madonna threw a surprise party for daughter Lourdes over the weekend—I have to say I’m glad it’s here. A small portion of macaroni and cheese for $6-$8 is heavy and filling (if that’s what you want): a pretty solid recession-era meal.
A quick first assessment: The “four cheese” version, made with queso blanco, fontina, Emmental, and gouda, is a little too salty, and on first try it wasn’t crusty enough. The “mac quack” is hard to argue with, unless you’re a purist: tender duck confit, caramelized onions, and fontina cheese make for an inspired and well-executed variation, and there’s crust aplenty on top. The “margarita mac” (tomato, basil, parmigiano, mozzarella) would be a much better idea in the summer: Yes to the fresh basil and the cheeses; no to the fresh tomatoes, which aren’t in season anymore.
I have the same problem with the tomatoes they’re using in the margarita-like crepe at another new Nolita one-dish restaurant, La Crepe Parisienne (and in the otherwise excellent vegetarian souvlaki sandwich at Snack). I’m not trying to be priggish about the local-seasonal thing, but uncooked, out-of-season tomatoes just don’t taste good and lend an off-note that’s hard to ignore. Better to just use an intensely flavorful homemade tomato sauce instead of sad, unseasonal supermarket tomatoes, then have at it when the real ones come back around.
NB: The medium-sized takeout order of mac-and-cheese at Macbar comes in a bright-yellow macaroni-shaped plastic box. Doubtful you’ll ever use it again, but as noteworthy takeout containers go, it’s right up there with the translucent, colorful plastic boxes they send you home with at the bizarrely-still-packed Rice to Riches around the corner.