Union Square guide: The best of the neighborhood

Reboots are RISKY business—for every The Force Awakens, there’s a The Phantom Menace. Remakers have the punishing task of satisfying two audiences simultaneously: the established fan base, those who experienced the original run, and the new demographic, the young’uns looking for fresh twists among the familiar beats. Luckily, the force is strong with the new incarnation of Union Square Cafe, the beloved flagship of the formidable Danny Meyer empire that stood on East 16th Street since 1985, long before a Shake Shack patty ever sizzled on a griddle top. A rent spike at the original location prompted a move three blocks north to a 10,000-square-foot two-story space that’s nearly double the size of the bygone room; where the old boasted cramped low ceilings and a head-scratching multilevel layout, the new is a light and lofty setting designed by architect David Rockwell. For all of his updates, Rockwell also seasoned the space with nostalgia, little Easter eggs for the devoted set: the cherrywood service stations, the dark-green wainscotting, the quirky and colorful paintings that line the walls. The service is as well trained and personable as ever—though, recent meals commenced with long, winding PR spiels that we hope will be edited down as months go by—and a warm, convivial spirit still dominates the dining room. (Don’t be surprised if strangers stop to inquire about your bowl of tortelloni in brodo on their way to the restroom.) But the most crucial holdover is in the kit

This 90-seat Greenwich Village pizzeria, co-owned by Rosario Procino and chef Pasquale Cozzolino, specializes in traditional Neapolitan pies and composed Italian dishes, like spaghettoni al Pomodoro and zucchine scapece. 

For those New Yorkers who don’t flee to the Hamptons or the Hudson Valley at the first sign of warm weather, the annual hunt begins here in the sweaty, sticky city to find alfresco environs in which to eat, drink and embellish upon a daydream of being far, far away. Tucked behind the bustle of the Greenmarket, Union Square’s Pavilion now houses New York’s latest seasonal hideout: Bocce USQ. The mini limestone coliseum has a climate all its own, even foreign to someone (read: me) who frequents the area. The chirping of birds echoed through the space as light snuck past the cracks in the mint-colored blinds onto our marble table. Bocce balls clinked together on the outside court as guests clinked their spritz cocktails at the bar. “Where the fuck are we?” exclaimed my dining companion in wonderment. Under the lead of Roberta’s-trained chef Tim Meyers, Bocce concentrates on pizza and other summery Italian fare, all reliant on produce straight from the adjacent farmers’ market. A snap-pea Caesar salad’s grassy crunch balanced the creamy, Parmigiano-rich dressing. Sliced cucumbers dressed in white balsamic offered a sweet tang and a fiery-yet-pleasant horseradish tingle in the back of the throat. Even the typically heavy bowl of fresh pasta was lightened with delicate pappardelle tossed in a garlicky pesto with earthy pistachios. Before we even made a dent in our starters, two beautifully blistered pies arrived, overwhelming the table (and us) with a few too many plates. The pe

New York is the city of self-invention. This is no more apparent than in today’s restaurant scene. March became Nish, Onera transformed into Kefi, and now two downtown gems, the old Tocqueville and Sumile, are the raw-fish hideaways 15 East and Sumile Sushi, respectively. The talented Josh DeChellis, who in 2003 started the innovative Japanese-French hybrid Sumile, helms the latter; Tocqueville co-owner Marco Moreira has returned to his aquatic roots—he was trained as a sushi chef—in that restaurant’s former space, where he’s assisted by Jewel Bako veteran Masato Shimizu. Architect Richard Bloch (Masa) muted the colors and created a distinct sushi bar and dining room at 15 East, turning what felt like a country inn into a solemn temple of Japanese cuisine. Meals here are also deadly serious: The service is slow and martially precise—water glasses were filled and edamame shells discarded with eerie regularity. The multi-page sake list is decent, and the sushi is very expensive: ten pieces of nigiri for $55; à la carte still more punitive. Fortunately, it’s worth the steep prices. The fish was consistently luscious: The scallop was as smooth as chocolate mousse, and almost as sweet. If arctic char always tasted as buttery as it does at 15 East, it would no longer be the ugly duckling of the salmon family. I also tried several grades of tuna—for the aficionados, there’s a $75 sampler with six different cuts—including an otoro on par with the city’s best. I was less impressed

A noodle’s only as good as its slurp, a notion Japanese udon chain TsuruTonTan stands by. Its name breaks down the sloppy audio of the noodle experience: tsuro means “the sound of slurping noodles,” ton is the “sound of kneading and shaping udon,” and tan is “the sound of cutting the strands.” The chain’s first international location, set in Union Square, features 36 rotating udon options, including creamy mentaiko made with cod caviar, a curry udon and a kitsune with deep-fried tofu. The 128-seat space’s minimal design is punctuated by three artful walls: One is made of stucco bowls, another of wooden rolling pins and one of a custom fabric collage that mimics udon.

Part of the charm of the original Tocqueville, which opened in 2000, was its understatement. The 40-seat room didn’t attempt to be much more than a nice neighborhood spot, and this made the smart, fresh French-American fare all the more enjoyable. After a six-month renovation, Tocqueville recently reopened a few doors west of where it used to be, and in the process it’s turned the original proposition upside down: It is now a large, gorgeous room with a menu that doesn’t live up to the setting. The upgrade hits you upon entry, when guests with valuables (furs, laptops) are each presented a key to their own private locker. Tocqueville now comprises three sections: a modern 20-seat bar area; a balcony for private dining; and a grand, 17-foot-high dining room with a metallic bent, featuring silver mohair upholstery, a nickel chandelier and gold floor-to-ceiling silk curtains—through which servers come and go as if in some nifty magic act. The wizards behind those curtains are still Marco Moreira and Jo-Ann Makovitzky, the couple that parlayed a catering company into Tocqueville. He heads the kitchen and she works the front of house. Chef de cuisine George Mendes remains as well. Three or four of Tocqueville’s top dishes survived the migration too, such as the sea urchin and angel hair carbonara. But while the formality of the room and the prices (average entrée: $32) scale new heights, many of the new dishes fall short. For instance, when Moreira drops a soft-cooked Araucana chi