The New York City vegan community can seem very intimate; information about beloved establishments spreads quickly and social media offers a forum to express pleasures and displeasures that might otherwise have been expressed only privately. Such was the case when, late winter,
Sacred Chow announced they'd be significantly changing their menu and forwarned increased prices. I admit I delayed visiting once the changes took effect because I counted myself as one of many who were disappointed to see
the revered tapas- for the most part, leave the menu. But, when I finally decided to return, I took the new tree that had grown in the previously blank wall space as a good omen.
Visit #1: April brunch
My first impression of the new brunch
menu was one of extreme disappointment. One of the best thing about Chow brunch has always been that you could order from the "regular" menu as well as the dedicated brunch menu, and that included the illustrious tapas. The revised menu is significantly smaller and there are no tapas to be found; those that remain are relegated to the dinner menu only: served after 4:00pm.
For brunch, I chose the
tibetan B.B.Q. [seitan] wrap sandwich:
sliced into large, chunky pieces and marinated in a tamari-ginger sauce. Wrapped in a grilled brown rice tortilla with sweet carmelized onions and plated with hickory-roasted home fries. The home fries were well-prepared and in considerable abundance; they went down easily dipped in ketchup and hot sauce. But, I desperately missed the hero roll this sandwich used to be served on; the chewy wrap just didn't do it for me, nor did it sufficiently counter the sweetness of the hearty filling. The best and easiest fix that I can imagine is to add some greens to this wrap pronto- perhaps in the form of steamed kale since the dijon kale salad is, alas, but a memory.
My friend chose the
black olive seitan sandwich:
over soy buttermilk biscuits and steamed collard greens, drenched in a coconut bechamel; served with a side salad. The waitress cordially subbed home fries for the salad and she enjoyed everything. I'm not a fan of biscuits and gravy, but I'll take her word for it that every element was delicious; she especially enjoyed the bechamel.
A word about the new furniture: it's...different. Gone are the small, square, game-printed tables; they've been replaced by smaller, extremely shallow tables that have necessitated rectangular plates in order for two people to dine, somewhat comfortably, across from one another. I'm still not convinced it wouldn't be too close for comfort if not dining with a good friend; if you both lean over to take a bite at the same time I anticipate some unwelcome forehead bumping- not to mention unintentional but inevitable and unsanitary spittle projection. Gone too are the charmingly mis-matched chairs and cushioned window seat; they've been replaced by stiff, utilitarian benches and chairs that I suspect were chosen purposefully to prevent diners from overstaying their welcome because I couldn't identify any other obvious benefit.
The literal pain in my butt did not, however, prevent me from ordering the
chocolate truffle cake:
dense, rich chocolate cake, filled with raspberry ganache and topped with chopped pralines to share. It was, thankfully,
exactly as I remembered it: rich and divine.
And, I'm extremely happy to report that the staff on this particular day was most charming, attentive, and friendly: the best I've encountered at Chow ever.
Visit #2: May brunch
What I really wanted to do was go for dinner and order the tapas that remain available, but as luck would have it I wound up at Chow a few weeks later- again for brunch.
Unless my eyes deceived me, some of the menu items had increased in price an additional $1-3 from my visit only a few weeks prior when they'd already been higher than just a few months ago; I was not amused. Some of the new chairs had been replaced with newer chairs of a more cushioned variety, although their width extended beyond the tabletop by a few inches and they only clumsily slid in against the table pedestals that already seemed wobbly. Caution: they are temperamental and can begin to feel like they are folding with you in it if you shift your weight too far forward.
I ordered the
Sardinian Omelette: stuffed with sun-dried tomatoes, Kalamata olives and mozzarella cheese; served with a side salad. Can you believe I didn't sub potatoes? The generous serving of greens was richly dressed, which I would have enjoyed more paired with an entree not already boasting such bold flavors. Generally, vegan omelettes are hard to come by; this one was tasty, but no match for my fave from
Mi Lah.
My friend ordered the
cashew-almond feta scramble:
with baby spinach served with smokey home fries. Chow's scramble has always been on the soft side for me, but- especially in contrast to my incredibly rich dish, I loved the taste of this fresh and light mixture punctuated by the tempeh bacon bits. But, neither myself- a hater of Feta, or my friend- a lover of Feta, could taste anything that resembled it within the scramble.
We decided to share the
Nama-Gori kale Caesar:
Caesar dressing is massaged into raw kale and topped with slices of trilled nama-gori. Chow generally gets the best kale on Earth, and this salad showcased it. The tofu strips- seemingly pressed in a waffle iron, were both intriguing and delicious. The dressing, lighter than what I recall of their former Caesar (
Team Dijon!) had a nice, fresh, lemony kick. We both loved it, but agreed the hefty price-tag erred on the cost-prohibitive side. I should note that we'd thankfully been been seated at a table for four, otherwise this salad would have had to balance on a knee; as I've mentioned, there isn't much room to spare on the new tables. As it was, the water for the table for two next to us had to reside on our extra table along with our salad.
Since I'd been bemoaning the fact that I was missing out on the few tapas that still exist, I didn't expect to have such an overall hardy and delicious brunch. In addition, I have to mention that our service was even friendlier and more efficient than the prior visit, which would have seemed impossible; thanks, Julio!
Visit #3 June brunch:
Yep, brunch again; that's just the way things worked out: this time with VM, who had been forewarned about what to expect with regard to the menu revisions and furniture changes.
Incidentally, between visits #2 and #3 Sacred Chow posted this a few times on
their Facebook page with regard to a new decrease in the price of a few menu items, purportedly the result of negotiations with their distributors:
"Our whole
mission is about fairness, and when we were able to negotiate new
prices, it just seemed fair that you should share in our abundance too!" -Dino
While I'm happy to confirm that many of the items had, upon this visit, decreased in price by an average of $3 back to the original increase price or, in some cases, lower (I know; it's confusing), it was a little puzzling to consider that negotiations with distributors could net a price difference to something like kale salad to the tune of 60%.
In any event, let me start from the beginning. Sacred Chow opens for brunch at 11:00am. When we arrived at 11:20, the restaurant was half full, but there was a handwritten note taped to the door reading "will open at 11:45." We assumed the diners inside were part of a group and prepared to wait- more than slightly annoyed that this delay hadn't been posted anywhere online. Another party of two arrived and the four of us stood peering hungrily inside while the waitress seemed non-plussed by our intense collective gaze. After a few minutes, one of the women in the other party lost patience, opened the door, and asked the waiter if we all might have a seat inside- due to the extreme heat. The waiter seemed confused, announcing, "We're open?" When we pointed out the sign suggesting otherwise he politely removed it and amiably welcomed us in.
We then waited 35 minutes for sangria and, when we inquired about it a half hour in, were curiously told by the waitress, "They're working on it." It wound up being even better than the previous time we'd ordered it, but we were once again disappointed that the accompanying fruit consisted only of green apples.
Shortly thereafter our food arrived. My
banana bread French toast had only been a placeholder; VM wanted the real deal: now somewhat pretentiously renamed
French Quarter Pain Perdu:
slices of banana cake soaked in a French toast batter, griddled, and finished with blueberry compote. It was a significantly smaller portion than had been served previous, but the whipped cream was a welcome addition to the otherwise unchanged, scrumptious dish.
 |
| VM loves whipped cream, but hates banana. Way too many bananas! |
I'd been eyeing the Belgian Waffle: topped with fresh fruits, coconut whipped cream, and drizzled with butterscotch sauce on my last two visits, so I gave in and we both ordered sweet. The plating made the best aesthetic of a cramped situation by standing the four quarters of the waffle at attention;
unfortunately, that left no plate surface on which to actually dig into the waffle with knife and fork: all presentation, no practicality.
But, that turned out to be the least of my problems. To my surprise and despite the sweet menu description, the waffle was disappointingly dry (specifically: impervious to a professional syrup soaking attempt), not at all tasting of butterscotch (although I could see something shiny in the way of sauce had been drizzled on the otherwise parched waffles) and, incongruent to the other appetizingly sweet elements of the dish, undesirably earthy. It turns out that it was made with chickpea flour and filled rather incompatibly with sunflower seeds; I know this because the boy at the table next to me asked the waiter what was wrong with the waffles and, along with the ingredient explanation came the advisement, "You have to get used to them." I don't know about that boy, but I certainly don't want to "get used to" waffles; I want them sweet and syrup-soakable like expected and as was implied. If that's not your version, kindly explicitly advertise otherwise and I'll make it a point not to order them. At very least, forewarn a person that there will be sunflower seeds jutting out every which way all healthy-like; not everyone likes sunflower seeds.
In sum, my extreme disappointment with my third meal combined with the missed tapas, unpredictable pricing, and the wobbly, insufficient tables and uncomfortable chairs left us feeling extremely let down by Chow.
I should note that I drafted this post in stages upon each visit, and was uncharacteristically warned by VM along the way that I was "not to say anything bad about Sacred Chow." I'd explained that I was intending only to- per usual, diplomatically call it like I saw it; she was wary. However, when we finally visited the "new" Chow together, she immediately shared in my disenchantment with the changes and offered to simply be in consultation with me as I finalized this tough-love review of her previous favorite restaurant.
In fact, Sacred Chow has been the favorite NYC dining spot for both of us for years now; meals there have always been a stellar dining occasion, leaving us wholly and consistently satiated by their individual, fresh, healthy, and inventive fare. Since the changes undergone by the restaurant, however, many of the new dishes seem to be off by at least one element, and the overriding inconsistency of the menu and prices is simply unsettling and unappealing. The seating is awkward and uncomfortable; if, when someone orders a side, it has to be placed on the table next to them, you might have to admit that your furniture choice was not adequately considered prior to implementation.
 |
| not even a biscuit can find room on the minuscule tables |
Overall, I'm sorry to report that, despite our historic loyalty to Sacred Chow and the wholly appreciated kindness and exemplary service of the waiter, in particular, on this occasion, and all of the staff on the previous two visits, this boiled down to an unsatisfactory experience for two of Chow's biggest fans. So, we're going to take a little break- in the hopes of finding some improvement when we return, and we wish Chow all the best as they find themselves again and take root.
