Did I tell you what happened for my birthday last June??? Well, my sweetie surprised me with a wonderful gift: a spur of the moment trip to NYC. Whooooooohooooooo!!! I pack my bags and head for a long weekend there, so happy because I got to chill out at the best place ever. But it wasn't the only surprise: he took me to Les Halles at Park Avenue... And boy do I have a great review about that place. Let's begin, shall we?
In the words of John Lennon, all you need is Meat. Les Halles is a brasserie. You eat meat. Period. It became famous via my ultimate chef hero, Tony Bourdain, but I've learned that after he left to explore the world, the place still gets loads of visitors. And there is a reason. They cook pretty damn good. So... would I recommend it to you guys? In a second.
For starters... don't expect to hear music and people mumbling. It is a loud place, full of people and energy. They have decided to make space for more people than ever, so don't get too surprised if you seat almost right next to another group merely by inches.
Oh, very important, make your reservations. Although they like walk-ins, you might need to seal the deal before you go. After 8:30 the place is packed as hell. So keep that in mind.
The service is ok. Not wonderful and amazing, but hey, when you see the amount of people that are there sitting next to you asking for food, you kind of get that the waiters will bullshit you a bit and then move on to the hungriest and nearest client. I found it cool because I hate when waiters ask you minute by minute how are things going... so this worked for me. Maybe for you as well...
Expect to pay at least 150 bucks for a couple, drinking 4 glasses of wine, no appetizers, two entrees and dessert - it was my bday, dammit!!! Yes. 150 american dollars. No, mein friends. Not expensive. Memorable. Granted, Bourdain is not cooking there anymore, but who gives a shit... This is not fucking Olive Garden, dammit. The food is actually good, so pay up. I've seen people pay more at Friday's for a frozen chicken and three margaritas.
Well, now you now, the next time you hit Manhattan you gotta ask the guys down at Les Halles for some medium rare goodness.
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