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« The food sample bin | Main | A book I want to like » Tuesday, January 23, 2007I think I can, I think I can... One of my favorite places to eat in Providence is Nick's on Broadway. Until recently, it was a teeny tiny diner, seating maybe 15 people. The best place to sit was on a stool at the counter, which was almost on top of the kitchen. There was enough room between the counter and the stoves and sinks for a few chefs to stand. It was amazing to watch the choreography in that narrow space. But though the setting was pure diner -- blue counter, blue checked floors -- the food was not. Nick's only served breakfast and lunch: frittatas and buttermilk hotcakes with real syrup for the former; sandwiches of seared duck, pear, and blue cheese and fantastic burgers for the latter. Recently Nick's moved to a (slightly) larger location. The new Nick's on Broadway is still on Broadway, and it just started serving dinner. We went on Saturday night, and, well, it was a disaster, er, I mean a work in progress. The few minutes we were given as a wait time stretched into an hour. We sat at the bar and watched the work in the kitchen, at a slightly greater remove now. An entree was sent back. Another soon followed. A man at the end of the bar stormed out, saying, "You just lost a customer!" The young chef-owner grimaced, wiped his brow, smiled at us weakly. A while later, he sent over an antipasto platter on the house. Still later, he came over to talk to us. He looked like he might fall asleep on the counter. It's hard having a new baby. Finally we got a table. The length of time between courses felt interminable. The room was freezing cold. When it arrived, the food was a mixed bag. Duck and beef appetizers were delicious. A gnocchi dish was an unpleasantly cheese-and-bacon-heavy jumble. Scallops were cooked well but served in a dish that bore little resemblance to the menu's description. Pork was dry and accompanied by unpleasantly pumpkin-pie-spiced sweet potato polenta. At the end of the meal, the waiter brought us complimentary spoons of white chocolate mousse. It was heavenly. I don't even like white chocolate. I really want Nick's to succeed. The chef is talented, and he clearly cares about the food. But the dinner service has a long way to go. (Meanwhile, the lines for weekend brunch are still out the door; I don't even have the heart to brave them till it's warmer out.) Hopefully soon, bigger will also be better at Nick's on Broadway. Posted by Devra First at 12:13 PM
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