Allen & Delancey exhibits many characteristics common to the neighborhood, with one twist. The rooms are windowless and dimly lit, yes, and there is an elegant little bar up front, where you can sit nursing your cinnamon pisco sour by candlelight. A thick curtain of red velvet separates the two little dining rooms, which are appointed with old oil paintings and shelves of books. But the menu is now in the hands of up-and-coming chef and pork impresario Ryan Skeen who says his style here is “a little more intimate, a little more refined” than what he was doing at Irving Mill.
Take careful note of the fact that the former, rising-star chef is no more. The menu defies all organizational sense. What at first seems like a wide range of choice becomes quickly delimited by the unappetizing thought of leaving the place hungry after a course in the diminutive. The food makes an adolescent effort, but it tried: mostly bravado over heat. My "warm" lobster salad was decidedly tepid and ostentatious in presentation. My squash soup had a dollop of curry ice cream-- a dialectic in hot and cold that only a precocious teenager would find passable on one of the year's coldest nights. If you want the satisfaction of fine NY cuisine with the aftertaste of money well spent, dine elsewhere.
I like the new small plates concepts at Allen & Delancey. Our recent visit allowed us to sample quite a few of the new chef's tasty creations, as well as the 2 "entree sized" selections, giving the table a long, relaxing evening which can be a real foodie's delight. Everything is well seasoned, and with the beautiful candlelit atmosphere, it made the holiday season dinner perfect. For dessert lovers, the menu could have been broader, and the pear upside-down cake was dry. Lamb entree very inventive.