TRUE BLUE LAMU LAMU [ 1/2]
39 E. 19TH ST. (212) 358-7775
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LAMU is a restaurant that sticks to its game plan. While some places drive you nuts with daily menu changes, Lamu got through the whole of January without adding or subtracting a pomegranate seed. Roast chicken today comes with faro, cippolini onions and root vegetables – just as it did a month ago.
There’s something to be said for predictability. Chef Michael Burbella learned his lesson from Lamu’s previous incarnation, where he also cooked – Caffé Adulis, an overly exotic, undertrafficked Eritrean joint too erratic for its own good.
Although Lamu is named for an island off the Kenya mainland, there’s no longer anything African about the place. It is a friendly, modern-American restaurant with global accents. Thanks to a reliable kitchen, gentle prices and a vaguely sultry mood, it stays defiantly busy, just doors down from foodie favorite Craft.
Like women who can get away without makeup, Lamu is sexy in spite of itself. The underdecorated dining room has a smoky mood without smoke; big mirrors stretch the weak light. The ceiling is high, the floor wood, the tables mahogany; banquettes slither into cozy corners. Waitresses slither off to fetch inexpensive wines (under $50) from a predictable list and drinks like Lamu-nations (don’t ask) with unpredictable consequences.
A friend who knows her Ethiopian cookery recalls Caffé Adulis with foreboding for the meal ahead: “It was soooooo bad,” she sniffs.
Lamu’s amuse-bouche is inauspicious: a teaspoon-size lump of salmon tartare on a 12-inch plate. But Burbella’s best dishes deliver a pleasing bang for a modest buck.
In a town where not even a $35 tab guarantees that scallops will actually taste like scallops, you’d be surprised to hear that $12 scallop carpaccio beat the odds. I regret to report it did not. But the gleaming circle comes with good vegetable couscous and those pomegranate seeds that pop up everywhere.
The rustic satisfaction of mascarpone-radicchio ravioli ($12) was perfectly attuned to the richness of diced quail in truffle-infused sauce. A composed salmon terrine ($10), enfolding a square of braised French lentils, tasted of heaven one night, but of the refrigerator another.
Entrees are conservatively but intelligently composed. They break no new ground, but don’t leave you feeling cheated, either. And what a relief not to find mashed potatoes under pan-seared fish.
Crisp skin and moist flesh made wild striped bass ($22) a winner, teamed with long fingerling potatoes and a bed of crackling Swiss chard. Attention to detail elevated pan-roasted cod ($19) that came with crunchy Jerusalem artichokes.
My favorite meat dish was cocoa-spiced squab ($22), pink and juicy, and served with puréed parsnip and beets.
The short dessert list is topped by marscapone mousse ($9) with rounds of phyllo crisps and tangerine slices and – surprise! – pomegranate syrup.
Lamu’s stylish staff and ambience make a nice refuge from your cramped apartment. And you’ll go home knowing you can still afford to live there.