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Long defined by its annual food festival filled
with hurricane drinks and clam-shuckers, Ninth Avenue has in recent
years become the site of much more rarefied eating. Still, on
weekends, the walk can become a wade through barflies and hustlers,
streetwalkers and frat boys
–
and therefore, a sanctuary amidst the insanity is particularly
welcome.
Not since
the opening of Marseille has Ninth Avenue produced a restaurant as
sexy and stylish as Xing (pronounced "Shing" and meaning "star").
With a front room lined in bamboo and a back room swathed in red
velvet, Xing leaves the honky-tonk of Ninth Avenue far behind.
The acoustics are right, the music lush and loungey, and the
attentiveness to your comfort more akin to a four-star
establishment.
Asian tapas
is how Xing defines its cuisine, and with the inventiveness of its
new chef, Lulzim Rexhepi, Xing covers the continent. Crispy
asparagus avocado rolls with a pomegranate dipping sauce is pure
Japanese, as is crispy tofu
– while sweet-and-sour
eggplant crosses the border to China. A red curry lo mein with
Chinese long bean and lichee kicks the palate into overdrive –
the kind of dish which tempts you into another bite, even as your
mouth breathes fire.
And if
you’re sipping one of the exotic Asian cocktails such as Electric
Karma and Beijing Dream, it’s not long before you’re feeling as if
you’ve been shuffled off to Shanghai. Not to worry, however,
as the attractive and stylish waitstaff works as obsequiously as the
justly-famous flight crew at Singapore Airlines to insure that all
your needs are addressed. Dessert, for example, starts when
the chef sends out a small plate of sesame seed tea cookies and
anise jello, and soon after, there’s a take-out container filled
with five warm spiced donuts with fresh fruit dipping sauces.
The only question then: to share or not?
One thing’s for sure: Xing flies you to Asia without any resultant
jet lag.
Best always,
Mark and Robert
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