The Mott
Contact Info:
Address: 173 Mott St (Broome St)
City: New York, NY
Zip: 10013
map: View the Map
Phone: (212) 966-1411
Hours: Su - Thu: 6pm - 11pm
Fri - Sat: 6pm - 12am
Food Info:
Menu: View the Menu
Chef:
Brian Bieler
Cuisine:
New American
2nd Cuisine:
Comfort Food
Payment:
Amex Visa Mastercard
Cititour Review:
Back in the day, Wyanoka, a restaurant named for the Indian painted on this Chinatown tenement’s façade, had a serious following as an under the radar foodie favorite. I was one of its most ardent fans. I loved the off-the-beaten path location, the mod design, the fresh eclectic menu, and the steady hospitality. Front of House was run by Peter Kane and in the kitchen was chef Chris Santos. This was many years ago now, back in the late nineties, but the duo are still together; they now run the super successful Stanton Social.
Wyanoka is no longer and neither is Double Happiness, the lounge located downstairs. But in its place you’ll now find The Mott, a slender low-lit restaurant with big square windows that open, sort of like urban portholes, to the gritty Chinatown street. Inside you’ll find a mix of vintage touches and modern accents: burnished tin ceilings, bare filament bulbs and long wooden banquettes along a wall of white wainscoting. It feels a little Nantucket, a little AvroKo.
While the restaurant has a nice vibe, and the owners are there to give an unusually warm welcome, when Jamie and I were in last week the place was sparsely populated, but that’s not because the food isn’t good (though it has its ups and downs), or the service isn’t attentive. It’s more because a dispute with one of the former owners (the model Emma Cleary) has left the two remaining partners without a liquor license and they are not technically BYOB. Nonetheless, perhaps because we were discreet about it, the manager was fine with us popping out for a bottle of rose. Dinner just isn’t dinner without wine. Neither is breakfast, come to think of it.
Once the liquor license has been cleared I am sure the place will draw crowds. Chef Brian Bieler (Bouley, Compass) has created a succinct, moderately priced seasonal menu somewhat comically dubbed “Soho Seasonal” even though the restaurant is located in Chinatown. Regardless of this rather silly moniker, what this translates to is well-executed, seasonally-driven fare. There are apps like crispy pork belly with stone fruits and spring lettuces ($12), ricotta gnocchi with pine nuts and artichokes ($12/19), and chilled tomato soup with opal basil ($9) and entrees like roasted chicken with white potatoes and baby fennel ($19), and Cedar River Farms sirloin with cipollini and zucchini ($26). It’s nothing wildly creative, but it's a nice menu—the sort you might find at a neighborhood restaurant in Park Slope.
Jamie had just returned from a vacation to Hawaii for a friend’s wedding and was looking very relaxed and tanned after mastering the art of surfing. I was quite impressed and conceded that the closest I’d ever come to surfing was paddling out with a Styrofoam kickboard in a shallow, waveless pond at summer camp. Not exactly the same thing, but hey, I haven’t been to Hawaii yet. I am sure once I am there my inner Gidget will be found and unleashed.
As we discussed the ins and outs of paddling out and catching the wave, our appetizers arrived, and unfortunately, they were wipe-outs. Perhaps we ordered wrong because I’d heard raves about the gnocchi and the chilled tomato soup. But we had the Long Island fluke crudo ($12), glossed with chili oil and dotted with cubes of melon. This did not work at all. First, the fish was way too warm and rather than thin slices, it was sliced almost into dominos. It was too thick and clunky. The chili oil brought in a lot of heat, but the melon added little balance or acidity, which I think all fish needs. Instead, the flavors of the fish seemed rather muffled. An arugula salad ($11) was also a miss. While it included lovely baby arugula leaves tossed with delicious hunks of duck confit, toasted pistachios, shaved fennel and juicy grapes, the salad was obliterated by its dressing. The greens were coated in what appeared to be mayonnaise, and little else. It tasted like something that belonged on cole slaw. What this salad needed was a nice vivid vinaigrette—perhaps Moscato or Port Wine based—not what amounted to a cream sauce lacking brightness or complexity. With both of these dishes there was a sense of flavors being suffocated, not freed.
Luckily, things completely changed once our entrees were served. They were terrific. Cod is seared perfectly and served in a rich seafood broth reminiscent of clam chowder broth bobbing with salty little cockles, slips of piquillo peppers and sliced baby artichoke hearts ($22). The scallops were also flawless: a trio of fat caramelized lobes served on a bed of vegetables that spoke beautifully of late summer: cherry tomatoes, a fresh chiffonade of basil and slender, tender yellow wax beans. I’d have eaten just the accompaniments but lucky me, I got those succulent scallops too.
Honestly, we were so pleased with oa nice menu—the sort you might find at a neighborhood restaurant in Park Slope.
Jamie had just returned from a vacation to Hawaii for a friend’s wedding and was looking very relaxed and tanned after mastering the art of surfing. I was quite impressed and conceded that the closest I’d ever come to surfing was paddling out with a Styrofoam kickboard in a shallow, waveless pond at summer camp. Not exactly the same thing, but hey, I haven’t been to Hawaii yet. I am sure once I am there my inner Gidget will be found and unleashed.
As we discussed the ins and outs of paddling out and catching the wave, our appetizers arrived, and unfortunately, they were wipe-outs. Perhaps we ordered wrong because I’d heard raves about the gnocchi and the chilled tomato soup. But we had the Long Island fluke crudo ($12), glossed with chili oil and dotted with cubes of melon. This did not work at all. First, the fish was way too warm and rather than thin slices, it was sliced almost into dominos. It was too thick and clunky. The chili oil brought in a lot of heat, but the melon added little balance or acidity, which I think all fish needs. Instead, the flavors of the fish seemed rather muffled. An arugula salad ($11) was also a miss. While it included lovely baby arugula leaves tossed with delicious hunks of duck confit, toasted pistachios, shaved fennel and juicy grapes, the salad was obliterated by its dressing. The greens were coated in what appeared to be mayonnaise, and little else. It tasted like something that belonged on cole slaw. What this salad needed was a nice vivid vinaigrette—perhaps Moscato or Port Wine based—not what amounted to a cream sauce lacking brightness or complexity. With both of these dishes there was a sense of flavors being suffocated, not freed.
Luckily, things completely changed once our entrees were served. They were terrific. Cod is seared perfectly and served in a rich seafood broth reminiscent of clam chowder broth bobbing with salty little cockles, slips of piquillo peppers and sliced baby artichoke hearts ($22). The scallops were also flawless: a trio of fat caramelized lobes served on a bed of vegetables that spoke beautifully of late summer: cherry tomatoes, a fresh chiffonade of basil and slender, tender yellow wax beans. I’d have eaten just the accompaniments but lucky me, I got those succulent scallops too.
Honestly, we were so pleased with oa nice menu—the sort you might find at a neighborhood restaurant in Park Slope.
Jamie had just returned from a vacation to Hawaii for a friend’s wedding and was looking very relaxed and tanned after mastering the art of surfing. I was quite impressed and conceded that the closest I’d ever come to surfing was paddling out with a Styrofoam kickboard in a shallow, waveless pond at summer camp. Not exactly the same thing, but hey, I haven’t been to Hawaii yet. I am sure once I am there my inner Gidget will be found and unleashed.
As we discussed the ins and outs of paddling out and catching the wave, our appetizers arrived, and unfortunately, they were wipe-outs. Perhaps we ordered wrong because I’d heard raves about the gnocchi and the chilled tomato soup. But we had the Long Island fluke crudo ($12), glossed with chili oil and dotted with cubes of melon. This did not work at all. First, the fish was way too warm and rather than thin slices, it was sliced almost into dominos. It was too thick and clunky. The chili oil brought in a lot of heat, but the melon added little balance or acidity, which I think all fish needs. Instead, the flavors of the fish seemed rather muffled. An arugula salad ($11) was also a miss. While it included lovely baby arugula leaves tossed with delicious hunks of duck confit, toasted pistachios, shaved fennel and juicy grapes, the salad was obliterated by its dressing. The greens were coated in what appeared to be mayonnaise, and little else. It tasted like something that belonged on cole slaw. What this salad needed was a nice vivid vinaigrette—perhaps Moscato or Port Wine based—not what amounted to a cream sauce lacking brightness or complexity. With both of these dishes there was a sense of flavors being suffocated, not freed.
Luckily, things completely changed once our entrees were served. They were terrific. Cod is seared perfectly and served in a rich seafood broth reminiscent of clam chowder broth bobbing with salty little cockles, slips of piquillo peppers and sliced baby artichoke hearts ($22). The scallops were also flawless: a trio of fat caramelized lobes served on a bed of vegetables that spoke beautifully of late summer: cherry tomatoes, a fresh chiffonade of basil and slender, tender yellow wax beans. I’d have eaten just the accompaniments but lucky me, I got those succulent scallops too.
Honestly, we were so pleased with our entrees that we were rather perplexed by the quality of the starters. Was someone on cold apps not paying attention? Probably not, especially considering the kitchen is all of 75 square feet.
I am not sure what happened with our apps, but our entrees wooed us. There’s clearly some talent in the kitchen and food worth returning for. Plus, I liked the space. It’s a kind of modern dining cocoon that feels intimate but still sleek. It’s getting off to a rough start without that liquor license, and I feel for the owners especially in this economy. They’re working hard to create a lovely place for dinner (and soon a lounge, too), and trying to catch a good wave. Perhaps they just need some time to unleash their inner Gidget, too.
Review By: Andrea Strong
Comments:
Sign up for our newsletter !
