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Restaurants
Red Square
City:
Atlantic CityCounty:
Atlantic CountyPhone:
609.344.9100
Price:
$$$$
Cuisine:
Fusion
Key:
Full ReviewRed Square
***The Quarter at Tropicana
2831 Boardwalk
Atlantic City
609.344.9100
chinagrillmgmt.com
Restaurateur Jeffrey Chodorow, the man behind legendary Manhattan dining scenes such as the China Grill, Asia de Cuba, and Rocco’s (the latter of which became the focal point of a reality TV show), knows a thing or two about showmanship, which is why Red Square is so dazzling. Billed as a vodka-and-caviar bar and restaurant, the crimson-colored venue pays homage to centuries of Russian history, culinary and otherwise.
But first, there’s the bar: a 60-foot-long luge ramp of a surface, down the center of which runs a column of illuminated ice that purportedly is a solid mass going down to the floor, making it, according to our waiter (drum roll, please), “one of the longest ice bars on earth!” In the ice sit bottles of vodka that are “in service,” meaning currently being served. To see the full inventory of all 100 vodkas you have to borrow one of the house sables (I'm not kidding) or Red Army coats and head to the cooler, where they’re stored at 30 degrees below zero (again, not kidding).
Beyond the bar, two monstrous ice pillars mark the entrance to the dining room, the focal point of which is a custom blown-glass chandelier. Beyond it lies a vast wall of red-velvet draperies. Deep-red leather banquettes and recessed dining nooks make it hard to spy—Soviet style—on fellow diners, but the privacy allows civilized canoodling.
Although the menu is peppered with tongue-in-cheek communisms—Clams Khrushchev, anyone?—the preparations are very post-perestroika. If anything, the decadent dishes here represent cuisine that only the highest of fur-hat bureaucrats could afford back in the day. Take those mouthwatering clams, for example, baked with crisped pancetta and Parmesan bread crumbs, then topped with American sturgeon caviar. Szechuan-style calamari rings, fried to a crisp, golden brown, were dusted generously with five-spice powder that was offset brilliantly with sweet-and-sour sauce. Of the two tartares available on the menu I preferred the one showcasing sweet, translucent ahi splashed with a spicy sambal chili ponzu sauce and served with giant potato gaufrettes. The steak tartare, on the other hand, though perfectly tender, was overpowered by a creamy mustard sauce.
The two most luxurious starters were, naturally, the most expensive. Seared foie gras and duck confit ($22.50), playing contrasts between melt-in-your-mouth liver and fork-tender leg meat, was served with sweet corn blini, caramelized onions, and dried Bing cherries. The Smothered Blini, clocking in at $34.50, is the mother of all appetizers, composed of one large pancake topped with an obscene amount of American sturgeon caviar, crème fraîche, and herbed buerre blanc. It’s over the top and delectable. For those looking for the real deal in fish eggs, a separate list of seven caviars includes Imperial Black Sea Beluga ($200 for 30 grams) and Caspian Sea Osetra ($120 per ounce).
Main courses are more classic. A pan-seared halibut steak was the essence of simplicity, cooked perfectly and served with a sticky wild-mushroom risotto. The chicken Kiev consisted of an enormous, beautifully browned breast stuffed with a heady amalgam of dill, parsley, garlic, and cheese. My favorite dish, however, was the traditional braised beef brisket à la Stroganoff, stewed with an earthy mixture of peas, pearl onions, and mushrooms, served atop a nest of egg fettuccine. It was the essence of winter warmth and stick-to-your-ribs comfort food.
Desserts here make up for all those years of Soviet deprivation. There’s the bananas Foster cheesecake, which was exactly that: a dense, creamy cake topped with caramelized, flambéed fruit. It was delicious and ridiculous at the same time. So was the Tahitian vanilla-bean crème brûlée topped with caramel. Of course, you could take your dessert in a glass by ordering a vodka-spiked concoction such as the Black and White Russian, made of Smirnoff Vanilla Twist, white crème de cacao, Kahlúa, and cream. At $12 it cost about a week’s salary for the average Soviet factory worker, but the high rollers here, sneaking kisses in the erotic red din, couldn't care less.
