Dining By Design: New Year's Eve at Ginny's Supper Club and Red Rooster

New Year's Eve at Ginny's Supper Club

Even though a new year was fast approaching, I felt like I had travelled back in time to a bygone era.  While Red Rooster is a revered gourmet restaurant, it has the vibe of a Harlem night spot from the roaring twenties.  Hosts in classic attire greeted us and took our coats.  A hat stand with actual old school top hats and trench coats made it seem as though flappers and jazz legends were already being entertained inside.  Vintage memorabilia and photographs adorned the shelves and walls while Soul train played on a small VCR.

 

The time transport was complete when the host led us down the stairs and into a red, dimly lit hallway where another woman in black and lace looked up our names.  She led us into a glamorous speakeasy, with sparkling lights, old-fashioned bars, and golden tones.  This downstairs area, known as Ginny's Supper Club, is the young vibrant sister of Red Rooster.  It, too, is owned by acclaimed Chef Marcus Samuelsson.  He describes it as "an intimate lounge with a warm bourbon glow and an even warmer welcome."  While it offers delicious cocktails and food from the culinary icon, it regularly features live music.  The entertainment mirrors the ambiance, embracing the jazz and soul that defined the time period.

 

My friend and I selected Ginny's Supper Club as the place to ring in the new year.  Marcus Samuelsson held celebrations in both Red Rooster and Ginny's, but we chose Ginny's because of the festive additions.  The upstairs was decorated and bustling, but downstairs DJ Scratch played old school tunes, bartenders tended prohibition-inspired ornate countertops, and leather booths left guests free to lounge.  Even though everyone was dressed to impress and the room was elegant and classy, the aura still felt laid back.

Both spaces offered prix fixe 3 course meals, with the option of two seatings.  The first, which cost $75, could begin anytime between 7 and 8pm.  The tables remained until 9:30pm.  Then, the second seating started at 10.  For $150, guests enjoyed the same food as well as an open bar until 2am.  DJ Scratch started spinning at the first seating, and the music built over the course of the evening.  By the time midnight hit, live music and Superhero DJ Jon Quick would be hosting a full out party.

We chose the first seating so that we could have a festive night out with delicious food, music, and company, but still be back home to see the ball drop with our loved ones.  (We also figured we could avoid any drunken lunatics we might encounter on a late train ride home out of NYC after the ball drop.)

We began the evening with a glass of Prosecco, toasting to the year gone by and the one ahead.  While the name slips my mind (forgive me, I was in celebration-mode!), it was perfectly balanced.  It had just enough amounts of fruit, crispness, and bubble without becoming overpowering.  At $11 a glass, it was not indordinately expensive for a New Year's Eve sparkler.

The restaurant had another special spirit available that night, a Swedish beverage called glogg that I just encountered for the first time at a Christmas party about a week ago.  Samuelsson served it as tribute to his Swedish heritage, as he frequently integrates both Swedish and Ethiopian touches into his cuisine.  The drink is a mulled red wine with spices like cloves and cinnamon.  Aquavit (or brandy or vodka in some versions) makes it especially robust.  Almonds and raisins provide the finishing touch.  The glogg was brewed fresh behind the upstairs bar all night by a charming bartender. The warm glass mug was a great choice for patrons coming in from the cold winter air.  Although we did not have it when we entered, we went back to the bar on the way out for a final warm drink before the chilly walk back to the train.


Cornbread and rolls

After the bubbly arrived, our served delivered a delicious bread plate.  It had four rolls of two varieties: a salted rosemary roll and a mini piece cornbread.  The cornbread resembled madeleine cookies in size and shape.  It tasted like authentic home-style cooking, but a few corn kernels baked in set it apart and reminded us that we were, in fact, in an upscale gourmet restaurant.  The salted rosemary roll was the true prize though.  The top was slightly crisp and the inside proved perfectly flaky.  The top was salted, seasoned, and slightly oiled.  At the same time, the petite size kept it from being overly filling or rich in any way.

I decided on the "lump crab cake with citrus relish and old baby aioli" as an appetizer. Normally a crab cake would be too much for my stomach (which is sensitive to dairy and fried food), but when I saw citrus relish I surmised that the preparation would probably be more delicate in order to compliment the accompaniment.  I guessed correctly; the cakes were light, texturally delicate, and derived flavor from careful seasoning rather than a fried preparation.  I relished the relish (tee-hee), which included finely cut cucumbers, peppers, citrus (grapefruit maybe, more fancy than a regular orange), cilantro, and onion.  The onion was only slightly detectable, a trait I admired.  It enhanced the relish rather than overpowering my taste buds and leaving me dreading what my breath might smell like the next morning.


Crabcakes with aioli on the side

I would also like to point out that you read correctly when you saw the word "cakes."  While some gourmet restaurants skimp on the portions, Samuelsson was generous with his appetizers and throughout the evening.  The "lump crab cake" was actually two medallions.  Like the rolls that came before, the amount gave me the opportunity to enjoy it all without filling me up for the next phase of the meal.

Jerked bobo chicken with plantain twill

Next, the server presented me with Samuelsson's famous "Jerked Bobo Chicken."  Really, they could have called it chickens; twin breasts appeared on the plate in front of me.  Each bite contained a harmonious spice blend that paid tribute to both Ethiopian and Southern cooking styles.  A long delicate plantain twill sat atop it as a decorative, yet delicious, touch.  I loved the preparation; it was exceptionally moist and probably baked.  Still, it managed to avoid any trace of oil or grease.  I savored every last morsel.  Literally!

As a sweet ending to the meal and 2012, every guest received "a duo of sweets."  Although labeled a duo, it actually contained three components: a creamsicle, sorbet, and chocolate caramel tart.  I fell in love with the sorbet.  It originally appeared as a "champagne sorbet" on the pre-published menu, but the actual event involved "kir royale sorbet."  It was luscious and flavorful, exuding decadent notes without ever become overpoweringly sweet.  I would certainly count that singular component as one of the best desserts I have had during 2012.  The chocolate caramel tart came in second.  It hovered between fudge, mousse, and brownie.  It was by far the richest item on the plate, but again the small portion made it beautiful rather than exceedingly rich.  The caramel added a subtle, seasonal twist to the chocolate that I delighted in.



Dessert: Kir Royale sorbet (top left) on top of the creamsicle, with tart at right

The food, music, ambiance, and company would have made the evening perfect as it was.  However, the true highlight of the night came when I glimpsed Marcus Samuelsson.  Fashionable and dapper, he wore red pants, a suit, and a red tie for the celebratory occasion.  He seemed to float around the room as if wearing an invisibility cloak.  One second he was jovially conversing with a server- then he was gone.  He then suddenly reappeared with his arm around the DJ- only to vanish again.  "He's like a ninja," my friend chuckled.  All of a sudden he reappeared at our table, shaking our hands and thanking us for coming.  "I love your dress," he said to me sincerely.  "It's gorgeous."  He has impeccable style himself, so I took that as a deep compliment.  "Well, I loved your chicken," I said.  "I ate every last morsel."  He smiled, posed for a picture, and vanished again.

And so it goes with the years of our lives.  They arrive in fanfare and glory, but then, as quick as they come, become memories.  Suddenly another one announces itself and celebration ensues, until that, too, passes:

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne

Ginny's Supper Club
310 Lenox Avenue
212.421.3821
info@ginnyssupperclub.com
http://www.ginnyssupperclub.com/