When I made my reservations at Fork, I was a little wary. While I had heard only good things about the downtown eatery, all of that positive press came from my female friends.
Fear gripped me on the cab ride. Could the chefs there serve up a man's meal? Would I be surrounded by roundtables of 30-something-year-old single women? Was a Big Mac combo soon to follow my dinner?
Needless to say, my questions were answered by the sumptuous food and warm yet serious ambiance.
After walking through the velvet-curtained entrance, I immediately felt at home. The space is kept appropriately dim, but not dark. Both the slick, square bar area in front and tables in the back are bathed in soft yellow light from the chandeliers on the 18-foot ceilings.
When seating us and bringing our menus, the hostess and waitress both managed to pull off the difficult trick of being professional and knowledgeable while maintaining a comforting level of familiarity.
The owner, Ellen Yin, is a Penn alumna. As we were looking over the menu, she came over to greet us, and was friendly without being overbearing.
So far, so good.
But what about the food?
Appetizers dazzled in their simplicity.
Truffled country pate, seared chicken livers, duck confit, and cove oysters all beckoned me. Wracked by worry that we may regret choosing any of those over another, both my date and I settled on tapas plates where we could sample a few items.
The spiced meatballs - firm and flavorful, with a homemade crumble to the meat - were tinged with curry and an absolute delight.
Marinated olives were plentiful, came in all sizes and ran the gamut from black to queen to kalamata. The balance of salt, oil, and spices was perfect.
The sole disappointment of the starters was the shrimp ceviche. Two small shrimp in a bed of julienned carrots and cucumber is not nearly a ceviche in my opinion.
On to the main courses. My hanger steak was cooked to perfection - or should I say, uncooked to perfection. Rare, just as I ordered. Yes, I like to hear my steak go "moo" before I eat it. Sides of hot mustard and shoestring fries served as perfect complements.
My date ordered a striped bass, one of my favorite fish. Fork's was a real tour-de-force, centered in a large bowl and seated in a tangy black bean and ginger sauce. Shiitake and enoki mushrooms filled out the display and were some of the meatiest and most flavorful I've ever had.
What my date couldn't finish, I did.
And desserts were yet to come.
She had a refreshing mix of berries, coconut flan and hazelnut brittle.
In a departure from my usual order of sweets, I opted for a selection of three cheeses (the menu has a choice of around 20): a salty french blue, a subdued sheepsmilk cheese, and a silky goat cheese. Their quality was undeniable, but in retrospect I would've chosen something for dessert a little less bold than a blue cheese.
Two hours and a couple pounds lighter, we waddled out into the night.
Ellen wished us goodnight and said that we should come back.
I think I will. And I won't be sweating and worrying on the cab ride there the next time. I'll feel right at ease, knowing I'll be taken care of.
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