The tuna steak ($12.95 with side) at Medici on 57th is like laying up in front of the 18th water hazard when you already have a stroke on your opponent: it is effective, it is calculated, and it is safe. It's probably the right move. Still, there was part of me that walked out of the grandstand just wondering "What if?"
What if, first of all, they had asked me how I wanted it cooked? They took a beautiful, huge hunk of yellowtail and applied the old corporate burger no-pink dogma. Not my preference, but the ginger-soy marinade kept it from drying out, and you can really taste the ginger. The potato bun was big, but light, and it came dressed with lettuce, tomato, onion, and pickles. The ginger-sesame mayo is a microcosm of the sandwich itself—a nice, soothing beige on the palate spectrum. I guess I was just hoping for something a bit more abstract—more striking, bolder, with a tad more contrast. I came looking for a "Why not?" and instead got a "What if?" Not bad, but next time I'd probably just get two or three of their awesome spinach and feta croissants and call it a day.
Medici on 57th
Josh Conley is single-handedly trying to re-introduce the verb beget into the everyday lexicon. He traveled to Easter Island one Christmas out of sheer irony. He excises a hefty syntax, and shamelessly promotes the color orange. His wife begat him two small children that he regularly belittles HERE.
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