Sifton drops two stars on Red Rooster, Marcus Samuellson's new Harlem jawn. It's good timing, considering recent assertions that Sifton can be a Debbie Downer. It's a review that makes you want not only to eat at Red Rooster, stat, but also to wake up in the city that never sleeps, 20 lbs thinner, 20 years younger, and with an allover tingly Dinkinsy feeling. It all sounds good, esp the lox vs. gravlax, but it all sounds like a fantasy of what NYC could be. The Harlem venue overdetermines the musical choice, what with almost all jazz ever, or even Across 110th St. However, Sifton's review is all about heterogeneity, and he makes the soundtrack clear when he talks about liver pudding:
In this era of good feelings let us not reflect on how and why duck liver pudding with duck pastrami calls Hennessey and satin sheets to Sifton's mind, but rather welcome the guidance. Clearly, Sifton wants the Quiet Storm, but with a twist. There is a band from Brooklyn, (in this new era of peace and love, there are no borough beefs), spelled S-T-E-T that can take care of you:
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