WARNING: Butter NYC

If you've already done your research then I'm sure you've read the reviews, scanned the scathing remarks, and browsed the bold, highlighted, and emblazoned forewarnings; so let this be a RE-affirmation to you. I want to make sure that you never feel the need to step foot into BUTTER NYC. There are far better places in this Restaurant Capital where you can spend less than a requisite +$30 an entree and actually enjoy it.

Have you ever gone to a self proclaimed "swanky" restaurant and experienced a throbbing headache from the music, hunger pangs from lack of service, and shear perplexity about where you are... all at once? NEITHER HAVE I.. until BUTTER NYC. What a colossal disappoint this was. What an epic fail!  Alex Guarnaschelli, wherever you are, I understand that you are not the owner of this restaurant, but for your reputation's sake, for the sake of your career and your family, please bring your talents elsewhere. You do not deserve to go down with this dissolving pad of butter.

I'm not happy to be writing this warning, it actually saddens me, but it has to be done. From the minute we entered through it's long tubular entrance, until we finished our appetizers*, we were overwhelmed with disappointment.

For starters, when going to a restaurant with such an revered reputation, you would think they wouldn't need to post a Zagat placard on their hostess podium. This is something you'd expect at an Olive Garden, or Outback Steakhouse. We were kind of put off when we saw this laminated poster staring at us from the other side of the "cocktail lounge." The combination of seating people in the foyer and throwing a Zagat rating in customer's faces is purely tacky.

Immediately following the awkward walk down the entrance hallway laden in drunk clackers (watch The Devil Wears Prada for a definition) came a half hour wait. Under normal circumstances this wouldn't have been so irritating, but paired with the rest of the evening it is the icing on the cake....(con't)


Now, so as not to throw BUTTER NYC completely under the bus, the upstairs dining room SEEMED to justify it's favorable PR for the past 10 years. It's spacious and bright enough to accommodate an enjoyable evening, as long as the dishes are served in an appropriate frequency. Unfortunately, our experience came from the lower level, the "Birch Room." If they think that this dining hall is laid back and cool, then they are certainly tripping on something strong. The "Birch Room" is a confused dining room that got rejected from the Meat Packing District. It's adorned in white Christmas lights, denim booths, a pale red glow, and has your Bat Mitzvah DJ spinning cheesy tunes next to a fake fire place. The denim seating is blatantly ripping and matches the shredding carpet beneath the center row of tiny teetering tables. I understand that this is a very forced attempt to be cool, but shredded denim was so 5 years ago.

Still, the deteriorating decor and collapsing bathroom stalls could have been forgiven because the appetizers* we had were really that good, but the service seriously tipped the scale. I can deal with bitchy waitresses, and I can tolerate wrong orders, but waiting TWO HOURS for TWO entrees that NEVER came is ABSURD. There was no warning, no apology from the manager, no comped dish from the chef ... nada. This must have been a routine occurrence because no one seemed phased by it. Mission of BUTTER NYC:  Butter'em up and make them suffer.

Well, sorry BUTTER NYC, you messed with the wrong New Yorkers this time. Not so subtly, we concluded our evening with a staged walk out. It had to be done, and it felt good. How does it feel BUTTER NYC to know that a Mamoun's $8 shawarma was more satisfying than an evening trapped in your ramshackle restaurant.

Diner's, considered yourselves re-affirmed.