Magazine article The New Yorker

Mayfield

Magazine article The New Yorker

Mayfield

Article excerpt

Mayfield, a new restaurant on a rapidly gentrifying stretch of Franklin Avenue in Crown Heights, steps into many of the pitfalls of the modern restaurant. Everything has a story: the tables are handcrafted from--what else?--vintage bowling-alley lanes, and the wooden folding chairs come from a Kentucky church. Where better to sit while food-worshipping? Ask for an explanation of the unfamiliar ingredients in a craft cocktail called the Lord Byron, and you'll receive a friendly but overwrought monologue, followed by a drink that tastes pretty much like a Negroni. The beets are organic heirloom, the pork is Berkshire, the fluke is local. (How local--the East River? The Gowanus?)

Eye-rolling aside, it's hard not to appreciate the elegant Art Deco light fixtures, and the food, creative yet controlled, is unusually delicious. Seafood fares particularly well--that local fluke, served as ceviche with grapefruit, mint, pickled chiles, and a side of popcorn, is delicate and refreshing, and tastes not remotely polluted. The Eden Brook trout may have travelled all the way from the Hudson Valley, but it's no worse for the wear, its roasted skin and silky pink flesh complemented beautifully by smashed fingerling potatoes and bearnaise. …

Search by... Author
Show... All Results Primary Sources Peer-reviewed

Oops!

An unknown error has occurred. Please click the button below to reload the page. If the problem persists, please try again in a little while.