Red Farm (New York, NY)

Red Farm, Looking In

It's not news to anyone that the West Village isn't exactly a hotbed for Chinese food. Sure, it's not so difficult to haul your tuckus to nearby neighborhoods where offerings are stronger (one thing we DO have in the West Village: great subway access!), but there's something to be said for being able to roll out of the house and having the food you want right there. Despite our best intentions, we never quite make it to Ocean Jewel (or Perfect Team Corporation when it was still open) in time to compete with all the up-at-the-crack-of-dawn grandmas and grandpas, to score the best dim sum. We don't always make it to South China Garden when we crave Cantonese seafood.

Enter: Red Farm, a new, nominally Chinese / Asian fusion, nominally locavore restaurant, which opened on Hudson Street in late August. Its eclectic menu includes an array of dim sum dumplings, appetizers and main courses to the tune of claypot chicken with star anise and flatbread. Dim sum from in our neighborhood, right under our noses? At dinnertime? Justin and I were sold -- faster than the latest iPhone.

Red Farm is a collaboration between Chef Joe Ng (Chinatown Brasserie) and restauranteur Ed Schoenfeld (Shun Lee, Chinatown Brasserie), with backing from Jeffrey Chodorow (Asia de Cuba financier cum reality TV star of The Restaurant). The restaurant began as a humble stand in FoodParc, an upmarket food court in Chelsea, but Ng and Shoenfeld seem to have had bigger plans from the outset. Not long after Red Farm stand launched, talk began to circulate of a full restaurant.

On a recent weeknight, we stopped by to see how the one-month old restaurant was faring. At 6:30 p.m., we were able to walk in without too much difficulty and find seats at one of the two communal tables -- but the prime real estate (three two-tops and three four-tops) had already been snatched up.

We started with two appetizers: smoked cucumbers and curried tofu. Both were lovely. Smoked cucumbers, a version of Sichuan cucumber salad, had the heat of red peppers (but not mala heat from Sichuan peppercorns) and were smoky, sour, salty and a tad bit sweet. The preparation was more garnish than appetizer and it would've been lovely to eat this with other food. But the well intentioned servers whisked away what we'd saved of the bowl before we could stop them.

Smoked Cucumbers

The Thai-influenced curried bean curd was well balanced in every way -- neither cloyingly rich nor overly light, not too sweet or salty or sour or bitter -- and redolent of lemongrass. Rectangular slices of silky (but not silken) tofu, had absorbed a great deal of flavor from the sauce, a perfect rebuttal to anyone who has ever complained about tofu being bland, boring or flavorless.

Curried Tofu

Kung pao chicken and scallion dumplings (six to an order) were less well balanced. The chicken and scallion dumplings were oddly sweet -- overly so to my tastes -- and perhaps inevitably, the ground chicken filling was a tad dry. The wonton style skins were thin and lightly pan fried, developing sparse brown spots, before being tossed with peanuts, sweet peppers, scallions, and a light, soy-sauce based dressing. I wasn't hugely fond of this dish, primarily because it leaned so sweet and I also have a bias in favor of the kind of kung pao chicken that comes piled high with hot red peppers. Having the chicken dumplings as a component of a kung pao chicken dish is very clever, but this Americanized Chinese version just seemed bland and unidimensional in comparison to the versions I most enjoy.

Kung Pao Chicken and Scallion Dumplings

Pork and crab soup dumplings (four per order) were of mixed success. On one hand, the skins were very thin and there was a fair amount of "soup" in each dumpling. Each adorable looking dumpling also came with a red goji berry stuck in the chimney. On the downside, the filling was so strongly flavored with soy sauce that it obscured the delicate natural flavors of the pork and crab. The crab was completely undetectable and there was none of the gorgeous "xian1 wei4" (鲜味) we love and look for in a soup dumpling. Don't get me wrong: Neither of us is a stickler for authenticity, especially not in a self-identified fusion restaurant. But the whole point of soup dumplings is to have soup that's as alluring as candy / dessert / your vice of choice. The soup, here, was alright, but not the star of the dumpling as it ought to've been.

Soup Dumplings

We'd read and heard some less-than-favorable reviews of some of the main courses, so the only dish we tried from that section of the menu was the sauteed snow pea leaves, fresh water chestnuts and garlic. It wasn't very main course-y, but I really enjoyed this simple dish. All of the vegetables were very fresh and the pea leaves were beautifully sauteed with very sweet, crisp, fresh water chestnuts and slices of garlic. The garlic and water chestnuts were both flawless shades of ivory, the kind of attention to detail Chinese food enthusiasts will appreciate.

Snow Pea Leaves with Fresh Water Chestnuts and Garlic

We were pretty full by this point, but we couldn't leave without trying the infamous Katz's pastrami egg roll, a signature item from the Red Farm stand at FoodParc. The egg roll had a substantial, but not overly thick wrapper, which had been well fried in very hot oil with virtually no greasy residue. The filling was delicious, with the potent flavors of Katz's richly flavored pastrami intermingling happily with sauerkraut and possibly other vegetables I didn't bother trying to identify before I snarfed them down. The rolls came with a strangely large bowl of sweet, mild mustard for dipping, which while nicely flavored, was superfluous as far as I was concerned.  

Katz's Pastrami Egg Rolls

The dessert menu seems to be very limited at the moment, with only three options on the night we went, all of them flavors of pudding. (There was chocolate, mango and another flavor.) Justin, a chocolate pudding afficionado, sprang at the opportunity to order his comfort food, which I though was solid, but to me unexciting. Raspberries and strawberries were very ripe and sweet. Whipped cream was garnished with a fine sprinkling of cocoa powder. The chocolate pudding itself was rich and thick, somewhere between a pudding and mousse. 

Chocolate Pudding

A note on the setting: The noise level was very... ah, let's call it "robust", especially past seven p.m. and it was hard to carry on a conversation by the time we left around 8 p.m. There were three two tops on the far side of the room from the door; three four-tops on the near side, with a long communal table in the center (pictured at the top of this post) and a smaller communal table at the front. Chairs are set uncomfortably close at communal tables, even for skinny people like Justin. I suppose the idea is to promote interaction -- but really, most people just pretend like there's a fourth wall there and studiously avoid eye contact and personal conversation topics.

Our waiter tried to upsell to a degree that verged on irksome -- but I think that might've just been him. I didn't hear other waiters around us doing the same. On the plus side, the decor was awfully cozy, homey and likable, without any hint of kitsch that usually accompanies Chinese and Chinese-American restaurants. There were plants everywhere, exposed pipes put to good use as hangers for the specials menus and more plants. And the best part of the decor? The jolly-looking, suspender-clad Mr. Schoenfeld who graces the young restaurant nearly every night, peering over shoulders, making sure his restaurant baby is learning how to walk on its own. For the most part, it seems to be. 

29 Hudson Street (Charles and Tenth Street) 

New York, NY 10014

(212) 792-9700

http://redfarmnyc.com/


Hours: Monday through Sunday, 5:30pm to midnight

Reservations: No reservations accepted, but the hostess will take your name and number and text you
when a table is free.