As I typically do not ascribe to the dining culture of surf & turf, I found myself reluctant to report on my experience at Sparks on 46th...
While sipping on glasses of buttery chardonnay, lump crab and a three pound lobster were presented by two men who took the initiative to serve them on our plates. Seemingly precise, or so the servers intended, it turned out to be a messy operation.
The conflict of texture and flavor in ordering both crab and lobster transcended into the old school decor, which would approach 1970's mafia if the seating were more lavish, and sunken.
Although the Croatian servers were incredibly friendly (they greeted me with kisses on each cheek), somebody ought to tell them how to heat rolls. I simply do not possess the ability to appreciate microwaved bread, especially when it rapidly becomes comparable to a rock.
The next offering was butterflied filet mignon, spinach and hash browns. These were perhaps the most intensely large filets that I had ever seen. The potatoes were greasy, but after several glasses of wine, they seemed to fill their purpose. The spinach was not anything beyond average.
The entire experience felt Mid-Western metropolis. It's just not for me. It's for you, you know who you are.
For more details, check out the archived review from New York magazine.
210 E. 46th Street. NY,NY.
Photo credit: NYMAG.COM