Two nights, two delicious (and cheap-ish) Chelsea dinners:
First up, Tipsy Parson: Even from the sidewalk windows, it’s obvious this is a room you want to be in. It’s warm, it’s alive; it’s hopping without being excessively sceney. The menu: affordable, inspired comfort food. A few apps and sides to share, a glass of wine—and we were in and out for under $30 a head. I had some of the best brussels sprouts ever—tiny and roasted with pecans and sweet, Southern-style sorghum syrup—and irresistibly juicy, spicy lamb ribs with a buttermilky slaw and pickled red onions. Only problem was that at the end, just as we’d finished paying our check, the hostess politely (or seemingly politely) asked us if we wouldn’t mind moving to the bar so they could seat guests waiting for our table. We weren’t lingering; we didn’t even have a chance to. An unfortunate bum’s rush from a place that’s too classy to be pulling these lame shenanigans. These kinds of situations are much better handled by offering the waiting guests a round of drinks or two. Anyway, I’d come back, especially to see what’s on the winter menu.
Socarrat: I’ve been wanting to hit this paella bar since it opened a couple of years ago but didn’t make it until now. Part of my avoidance had to do with the mostly soppy, water-logged paellas I’ve had stateside. But Socarrat is named after the crunchy rice that forms on the bottom of the pan and that defines the character of a well-made paella, and true to this restaurant’s name, you get much more crunch than sogginess here. The seafood paella ($23 per person, for a minimum of two people) is loaded with sweet scallops, plump shrimp, mussels—and rice that, when scraped vigorously by the waiter, comes up crunchy and nutty and perfect.
Caveat: It took forever (more than an hour) to get seated, and the host underestimated the wait-time for everyone who walked in. But here’s how restaurants can handle awkwardly long waits without alienating customers: offer a free drink or an appetizer (see Tipsy Parson note above). Soccarat gave out small plates of hot, fried cabrales cheese croquetas to everyone stuck waiting for a seat in the crowded, cramped room. That’s how it’s done. NB: When the new wine bar opens next door, the long waits should get a little more relaxing—if a little more expensive.