As in an online dating profile in which every quote is clever and the photo reveals an utter knockout, new Soho eatery Hundred Acres seemed like a perfect match. After all, downtown is chock-a-block with solid American restaurants these days (Commerce among them), the eatery's French windows brim with happy-looking diners, and co-owners Marc Meyer and Vicki Freeman are behind critical darlings Five Points and Cookshop.
But some things, so flawless in profile, reveal their pockmarks in person, and this is one of them. We arrived at the former Provence space—a venture abandoned, say owners, because it became a “special occasion only” restaurant—checked in promptly for our reservation...and were asked to wait for half an hour. After watching a party who arrived after us sit down first, in the window table we'd requested, we were escorted past the airy front tables to the dim far end of the room. Fumes wafted from the adjacent patio, which had been painted that day.
Ravenous and tripped out on paint, we tucked into fresh bread served with a pungent lovage and honey-spiked butter. While waiting for appetizers, our eyes caught on a large table in the center of the room: A blueberry pie, several bottles of wine and bowls of fruit were arranged in a very stoic still life. Throw in a cornucopia horn and we would have sworn we were on the set of a Martha Stewart shoot. “We totally use seasonally fresh goods!” was the message relayed, and received, with a thud.
Starters arrived to similarly sobering effect: When paying $11 for "a trio of toasts," one wants perfect bread and decadent toppings. Neither was on offer: Smoked fish and curlicues of radish on crunchy bread lacked oomph, as did cold pulled rabbit with a sprig of dill. Only earthy chicken liver—minus the cherries the menu promised—were a flavorful reprieve, though a bit too intense.
The fried green tomatoes, on the other hand, had our group chatty and happy again: They're sautéed up crisp and light, served with a chipotle-spiked aioli.
We quieted down with the arrival of entreés: Scallops came five to a plate and rubbery in texture, sitting uneasily next to a pile of undercooked squash and zucchini and a sauce that seemed like it had been put on the wrong plate. Chef Meyer tells us he has since "eliminated" this yogurt dressing, which is a wise move; it was reminiscent of a dip for chips.
Pork belly fared somewhat better, with a crackly top, but was served with an unidentifiable mélange of vegetables—purslane, a green tomato "chutney"—so sour we couldn't identify anything.
Among the entrees, only the fried chicken was a success. The bird's skin was properly crisp, and served with a pot of delicious local honey adorned with a classic swirled stick. Alongside it sat a large wedge of romaine drizzled with buttermilk dressing and flecked with thyme. It was the one flavor combo that sang.
Though our expectations were flagging—if this was a date, we would have feigned an emergency call from a friend—we went for one of the homemade desserts. “How can you go wrong with chocolate cake?” our waiter intoned. Apparently, you can, by making the cake itself dry, the frosting dull, and the two parts—chocolate on chocolate—taste so similar as to bore you into waving down the check.
We wish we could say cheap bottles of wine took the edge off our annoyance. We can't. Although the restaurant would like you to believe its wines are affordably priced ($50 tops, according to the press release), fifty bucks was actually the low end of the spectrum, with several bottles at $100 and up. A proprietor declares, “What happened is we got lots of requests for higher-end stuff.”
That's all fine and good, but owners shouldn't be surprised if some "lower-end" patrons BYO corkscrews, grab a bottle off Martha Stewart's table over there, settle in over fried green tomatoes and free bread, and leave before things get, well, stale.
Hundred Acres
38 MacDougal St. at King St.
212-475-7500
Appetizers: $10–$12
Entreés: $15–$20
Photo by Mea Tefka
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