Some of my best friends love the Star Top Cafe. It has a devoted cult following of risk takers who enjoy unusual, complex, aggressively spiced cuisine–people who would try antelope nipples if they were on the menu. Other friends, the kind who always wish those pureed turnips on their plate were mashed potatoes, don’t like the place at all.
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The Star Top Cafe caters to a young crowd, and the clientele, like the food, is full of odd combinations. At adjacent tables were a good-looking guy in dreadlocks (the sort of “do” that should be a don’t) and a yuppie couple with a newborn infant (what a great age to take them out, before they can run up the tab). There’s a strange dichotomy between the uptown cuisine and the 60s, hippie-style downtown decor: scruffy storefront chic with silver alligator-stamped vinyl tablecloths, painted chairs with leopard-patterned seats, crystals as table decorations, and rock music. Service is exceptional, maybe because the owner’s girlfriend waits tables. Regulars tell me this is where the Grateful Dead go after a concert, maybe for one of the theme dinners, like the gigantic pig roast or the $69 Valentine Day dinner for two.
Other items were total misses. An appetizer of spedino a la mozzarella ($6), fried pizza bread with anchovies in a tomato sauce, was a soggy disappointment, as was the too-thin asparagus lobster cream soup with scallops, crayfish tails, and fresh tarragon ($5). The anise butter accompanying the bread on the table was way too garlicky, so garlicky I knew I wouldn’t be able to get near myself later, but at least we couldn’t taste the anise. Who wants butter that tastes like licorice? Salmon saute with hazelnut, cardamom, and lime in brown butter ($16) seemed fried rather than sauteed. Grilled chicken and fennel sausage saute with manila clams and sun-dried tomatoes in red wine ($15) was so overly spiced that I couldn’t tell one flavor from another.
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): photos/Charles Eshelman.
