I wanted to like Back Forty. I’m all for elevated gastropub fare using ingredients straight from the Greenmarket, and I don’t mind the rusticated interior design that’s in vogue these days. And there were a few highlights. An impeccably-sugared mint julep ($10), mixed with Ezra Brooks bourbon and muddled mint arrived in a de rigueur frosted silver cup, cooling under a mound of snowconeish ice particles. The golden beet and chevre salad ($10) seemed aimed to make you marvel over the perfection of each green, balsamic-coated arugula leaf. Spicy homemade ketchup, with a rich undercurrent of molasses, kicked up the interest factor on some otherwise so-so rosemary fries. A pint of Chelsea Sunset Red ($7) was the first cask ale I’d had since the cask ale festival, and was suitably flat and complex in flavor.

Unfortunately, we were waiting 30 minutes for a table and when another party of two who just walked in was seated immediately, it become apparent the host had thought we’d requested a table in the backyard. We had not. A simple mix-up I suppose–however, another place might offer a free round of drinks or something for wasting our time, and we received a brusque “sorry.” The second screw-up happened when I ordered the burger. The menu recommended ordering the grass-fed beef not cooked beyond medium, but I ordered it medium-well, having had that work out with grass-fed beef before. It arrived just-past-rare, and I suppose I should have sent it back, but I was at that point starving, and crankily picked at instead. Fans of rare beef might like this burger, it probably would have been fine cooked, (the Burger of the Month Club put it on their top ten), but for $11, I don’t want something that’s been thrown back on the grill.

There were other items on the menu that piqued my interest (pork jowl nuggets, chicken and waffles), and I believe a review usually warrants two tries, but I’m in no rush to go back. We ended up, predictably, at the bar, tossing back another round of cocktails, which at $10 each, were well-mixed and not too outrageously priced.

Back Forty
190 Avenue B at 12th Street
Dinner: Mon-Thurs 6pm-11pm, Sat 6pm-12am, Sun 6pm-10pm,
Brunch: Sat&Sun, 12pm-3pm

Sometimes all you need is a relaxed, candlelit bistro and a giant hunk of garnished meat to get your night back on the right track. Something about Belcourt–whose full length windows overlook the bustling downtown theater action at Fourth Street and Second Avenue–feels particularly welcoming; maybe because it’s a new place trying to be like an old place and arriving somewhere comfortably in between. Or maybe because there’s never a wait to be seated. Patience is not one of my virtues.

The menu will be familiar to any fan of european gastropub fare–selections of meats, cheeses, salads, and entrees ranging from hanger steak to fish. High-quality ingredients, often homemade, and a few twists and turns to the flavors elevate this beyond standard pub grub. Highlights include the spiced pear and mixed greens salad with beets, walnuts, blue cheese and pickled onions ($8) which delightfully mixes sweet with savory, and the thickest-cut pork chop I have ever seen, served on a bed of swiss chard with shitake mushrooms and gorgonzola sauce ($24). It was tender, perfectly cooked, and redeemed itself from the fact that someone left out the advertised and much-anticipated side of maple bacon.

(Photo by gothambill)

On a more disappointing note, the beer list could use a little more variety. I am not a huge fan of La Chouffe, although having a Belgian on draft at all is a plus. The coffee bbq-rubbed braised brisket suffered from way too much salt, although the side of polenta it came with was perfectly nice ($23). Probably the best value here is the beef or lamb burger, served on a squishy bun, layered with slivers of spicy pickled zucchini ($12). It comes with a side of fresh, crispy frites; the garlic aoli dipping sauce and spiced homemade ketchup alone are worth the price of admission. Update 4/2/09: The housemade ketchup has been discontinued! (Doesn’t prevent you from demanding they bring it back).

I hear the brunch is worth checking out, as well.

Belcourt, 84 East 4th Street at Second Ave.
Open daily, 11am-12am

The road to Krumville might be the longest few miles you ever drive. County Route 2 unwinds past redundant woods, ponds, and abandoned barns, the Catskill mountains bobbing ever-closer in the near distance. You know you’re getting close to The Country Inn when your usually-intrepid companion says with a hint of irritation, “So WHERE is this place?” and you say “I think it’s just up ahead,” but there is doubt in your voice.

Just hang in there because it’s worth the trip. The Country Inn sits on a hillside overlooking an algae-coated pond, and inside is all lodged-out, wood-lined and adorned with objects like a giant mounted fish and hanging mottled softballs. A neglected pool table and a dusty fireplace both await discovery. A few things belie the casual appearance, though. Local-types hunch over the bar sipping beers out of exotically-shaped glasses and the names of 500 or so beers available in bottles line the back wall, heavy on Belgians and lambics. The menu, while brief, features beyond-dive fare such as escargot, duck, and trout. It’s like a secret beer-snob society plunked down in the woods.

We opted for locally-brewed Evans ales, (on tap and a steal at $4.50); both a pitch-perfect pale ale and a very hoppy brown ale. For dinner, burgers ($9) with beef from Fleisher’s of Rhinebeck ($3 extra), which supplies locally-raised, grass-fed meat–the adorable Frankie’s Spuntino is one of many city restaurants that shop there. The burgers arrived unadorned except for a single lettuce leaf and our extras, sauteed mushrooms and onions, on hearty CD-sized buns. The grass-fed beef was delicious but extremely lean and getting it cooked beyond medium is probably not a great idea; but it was a pleasure to eat a burger without feeling like I was courting a heart attack. I somewhat missed the crunch of pickles or onions, though they might ultimately distract, so next time I might indulge in some smoked bacon on top. The onion rings, suffice it to say, were perfect–not overly battered, and sliced thin enough to bite through. The desserts parading by looked tempting but I ordered a Corsedonk ($6) which arrives in its appropriate glassware. To me, this is better than ice cream, unless someone devises Corseonk-flavored ice cream, in which case I’ll have to rethink that statement.

I’ll put it this way, when I’m fighting my way through Times Square on another miserably hot day the happy place I go to in my mind will be the patio of The Country Inn at dusk with a Belgian and good company. Here’s a tip: bring a designated driver so you can make some headway through their beer list and still get down the mountain.

The Country Inn, on Route 2, Krumville–which is not a town, exactly… just check their website because I can’t explain it.  Wed-Sat 5pm-10pm, Open Sun at 3pm. They usually close in January so if it’s wintertime better call ahead.