Bridges

With a high bar to clear, Bridges delivers rare restaurant perfection.

Let me not mince words for a second: I eat a lot of good food. And yes, that does make me the luckiest girl in the world. My life recently has become reduced to a parody of itself. I haven’t been up to too much lately—I’ve been enjoying my time at home in New York, marveling at how slow my days can be in a city that’s notoriously fast-paced. Perhaps to balance it out, my eating habits have tilted towards the opposite of low-key, and I’ve found myself having some very nice meals with an overprivileged nonchalance.

For example—and this is probably a bit embarrassing to admit—Viraj and I were having a fairly quiet Sunday the other week, so we decided impulsively to go to Frenchette. To be clear, any time spent with their shallot tarte Tatin is a good time, but to have it whenever our heart desires? We probably have it too good.

Over this past weekend, we had a belated Valentine’s Day dinner at Delmonico’s, what’s become our yearly tradition. I think we’ve finally perfected our order there, which is to always get their crab cake, which comes wrapped in a crispy casing of potato strings, and sometimes skip the steak: lamb chops with caramelized yogurt might actually be the best protein they serve. During our meal, we struck up a conversation with the couple seated next to us, sharing insider Delmonico’s tips that made me think: Do we come here too often?

This is all to say that I’ve been really, really enjoying living in a city surrounded by some of the best food in the world… and at the same time, I’ve become a bit immune to it. And so when a restaurant like Bridges comes around, even with its endless rave reviews from every food publication in New York, I’m cautiously optimistic. Sure, all these critics are impressed. But will I be impressed? The restaurant scene is incredibly competitive in this city, and it’s even more competitive inside my head.

Bridges is a serious restaurant for serious people, and I’m the target audience. There’s been an epidemic of unserious food in this city lately, and while I stand by my prediction from the end of last year that we’re trending towards a full embrace of (mediocre) chain restaurants, that doesn’t mean that it has to be true for me personally. I’ll be at the adults table, minding my own business.

Though Bridges demonstrates unapologetic mastery of French and Basque cooking, it’s still very much a product of our time in the best way. Sure, the tables are covered in white tablecloths, it has none of the stuffiness of a traditional white tablecloth restaurant. The food feels inspired by traditional cooking techniques, but with unexpected detours into Asian cuisines… and others. It’s playful within a sophisticated sandbox, making a meal at Bridges feel fancy and once-in-a-lifetime and yet somehow, like the bistro around the corner that you just happened to dip into on a Friday night.

I started my meal with a pepper vesper (duh!), and two seafood dishes. The scallops were bright with thin slices of limequat on top, but the real fun began with an order each of the Live Maine sea urchin, served within its spiky shell and topped with an airy, lemony foam and potato. Eating something as luxurious as uni while strategizing how to hold a sea urchin without stabbing the delicate skin under your nails is the type of whimsy that makes Bridges one-of-a-kind, and the nuance of cold uni and warm creaminess is true food sophistication.

Everyone says to get the Comté tart at Bridges, and they’re probably right. It’s layers and layers of umami with a quiche-like tart topped with chanterelles and black truffle—between the cheese of tart and the truffle of the… truffle, it should be too much. But, the dish is saved by the perfection in the execution: a perfectly smooth custard filling and a buttery, crumbly shell that feels just so delicate.

For our mains, though the meal really just flowed from one dish to the next, we had lobster atop rice and salted nori, with bisque folded into the rice, and boudin blanc and boudin noir with cabbage and a velvet-smooth white wine sauce. The lobster was a prime example of how Bridges pulls influences from all places into its recognizable, French and Basque style, with salted nori adding a layer of intrigue to the traditional lobster bisque flavor.

The absolute highlight of the meal, however, was the baked-to-order hazelnut tart, which you have to order at the beginning of your meal. It’s the type of tart that feels like it’s almost all crust—the best part of any tart, in my opinion—and the pleasantly sweet and grainy crumble of the tart is offset by an almost sour chamomile cream and quince jam. And yes, it’s so warm and comforting that you forget you’re in a Michelin-starred restaurant… until the check comes.

But, Bridges is worth every penny. With a small menu that says they know who they are, they’re the rare restaurant that takes swings and never misses. The menu might be completely different when you go… or when I eventually go back. But, expect food designed for a refined palate with just a hint of a wink to remind us that food was never that serious to begin with.

Bite It!

Book Bridges on Resy here; reservations drop three weeks in advance at noon. They seem to encourage walk-ins, but I’ve yet to try that!