Marseille

Merde. French-Mediterranean bistro Marseille, which was once an oasis for conventioneers and office workers in the midtown culinary desert of 9th Ave, while still bustling at lunch, no longer merits the crowds. Despite a seasonal abundance, a starter of rock-hard haricots verts is barely redeemed by its drizzle of Roquefort and watery crème fraîche. A tuna steak, while served rare as requested, had the meaty chew of a fish past its prime and typical moules Provencal is just that—typical. Rounding out the meal was a cheese platter that tasted like it came from a grocery store deli counter; a suspicion that was hardly allayed by the server’s response when asked to describe the offerings: After evaluating a distinctly marbled wedge, he opined, “That one’s blue.”