Restaurants come and go in NYC faster than you can say "sustainable locavore burger." And even though there are great new additions to the culinary landscape popping up every week, you've gotta give kudos to anyone who can stick it out for over a year. With that in mind, we bring you Still Got It, our tribute to establishments that continue to serve mouthwatering meals and drinks long after the buzz has faded—or if the lingering hype is still justified.
There are restaurants that exist to push food boundaries by creating ever more complex and high-concept dishes, and then there are eateries content to let customers admire the classics. It's that ethos that's kept the tiny French bistro known as Lucien perennially packed since it opened in 1998, pleasing wraith-like models, tweed-clad gentlemen and dopey-eyed lovers equally with its simple and delicious fare.
When the restaurant opened, the Times's Eric Asimov referred to it as a "crowded, somewhat disheveled little French place that serves old-fashioned homey meals," and the same holds true today. Tables are situated practically on top of one another in the back, such that your neighbor often becomes your dining partner when the inevitable rush of plates and bread baskets, wine bottles and cutlery arrive in front of you. For New Yorkers, this can be something of a proximity nightmare; but it works here. The walls are peppered with framed photos, the mirrors scrawled with wine lists, and the tiled floors have transformative powers. You're not a block away from ceaseless road construction on Houston; you're tucked away in a Parisian hideaway, where having a fellow diner's elbow near your knife is not only expected but accepted.
The parade of French dishes furthers your travels, like the exceptional Soupe de Poisson Traditionnelle ($11), a steaming bowl of crimson soup flecked with tiny morsels of fish melting into the rich liquid. On the side, three small dishes containing shredded gruyere, toasted and oil-slicked croutons and rouille, a Provencal whipped olive oil spread flavored with garlic, saffron and chili peppers. There's probably a traditional way to use these accompaniments, but you'll be forgiven for sprinkling, dipping and slathering any way you please.
There's not a wrong order here, but I wholeheartedly endorse an order of the Escargots de Bourgogne ($13), which are every bit as tender as a morsel of prime steak and doused in enough garlic butter to require a table side defibrillator. Do not let the drippings go to waste once you've devoured the snails; that's what the complimentary bread basket is for. On the lighter side but equally delicious to start, the Salade d'Endives et Roquefort ($12), dressed lightly so the metallic tang of the blue cheese can shine through.
Larger dishes require some championing as well. For the first 10 or so times I visited the restaurant I couldn't help but always order the Loup de Mer Chillien avec Julienne de Legumes ($28), which arrives as a flaky hunk of sea bass perched on expertly cooked vegetables afloat in a salty but delicate broth (there's another use for that bread). In later years, it's the Steak Frites Traditionnelle ($24) that gets my nod; it's not the fanciest cut, but when cooked properly as it is here, a shell steak can be everything you want in a simple piece of beef. And those fries? Crisp, well-seasoned and highly addictive. Beware wandering fingers from your fellow diners.
As a young college student, the reasonably-priced wines were a godsend. For just around $35 you could score a robust bottle of red to accompany your steak or a buttery white to pair with your fish. Their so-called house wine —an M. Chapoutier Cotes-du-Rhone—is so delicious that I've searched for it (in vain) in every wine shop I've stepped into since I sipped it for the first time three years ago.
And don't you dare skip the Tarte Tatin with a spicy cinnamon ice cream.
Lucien is located at 14 1st Avenue at 2nd Street, (212-260-6481, luciennyc.com)
