Name changes but farm vibe remains in Hudson
Feast & Floret seamlessly keeps rustic-chic air of predecessor
Local, seasonal, Italianinspired. Before you go, you already know tropes that will be in play: rustic, dried flowers on brick; hazy Hudson River farmhouse. In the flesh, though, it’s charming, with a flower stall overflowing in the middle of the dining room, buckets of frothy, paperwrapped bouquets and a chalkboard pricing ranunculus, anemones and poppy pods by the stem.
Servers glide among the quiet guests; payment is tableside via Euro-style chip-and-pin. We’re struck by how smooth and PRECOVID it all feels — yes, in spite of the masks, a patio tent heated for those still dining outside even on chilly upstate days and squat potted firs that fill gaps between socially distanced tables. The vibe is smooth, though those of us in window banquettes share a view of two tipsy guests selecting thistles and teasal stalks who fall over. Another slips on her way in. I determine not to be next on my way out the door.
The short story is that Feast & Floret executes farm chic very well. Much has been written about the 19th-century blacksmith’s shop and carriage house that until last fall was home to Fish & Game, the celebrated
upstate restaurant by James Beard Award-winning chef Zakary Pelaccio and his chef-wife, Jori Jayne Edme. Without Pelaccio and Edme, the Feast & Floret partners — building owner Patrick Millingsmith; his wife, Lavinia; and restaurateur Jason Denton — are taking a softer approach.
The taxidermy is out, fresh flowers are in; the open-fire spit where Pelaccio roasted fatdripping meats is a cozy fireplace once again, and the manila paper menu, organized around house-made pastas and loosely Italian inspo, falls into short categories: antipasti and salad, grains and pasta, vegetables, meat and fish. Proteins are steak, chicken, pork and trout, with an octopus tentacle for flair. Alongside, a readable, juicy wine list checks all the boxes, from a baller three-digit Barolo to a clutch of bottles under 50 bucks. And save room at meal’s end for an entire page of digestivi — amari, grappi, sherries and ports.
Elsewhere, Denton (who did not return calls seeking information) has described the kitchen in democratic terms, lacking a head chef. I suspect simplicity benefits the line, with quick-to-prep plates like housemade sourdough with ricotta and honey and a classic white bean and Pecorino Italian mezze. But I’m taken by bold pairings. Mint brightens sherrybrown butter in a salad where watermelon radishes in pencilshaving frills cuddle pink and white cousins simply halved, their green Folie Bergere tops intact.
I happen to know from outside conversations that the heritage pork is no longer from Fish & Game supplier Climbing Tree Farm, but Hudson is awash in farm producers, and our server calls the steelhead trout and produce local. Honey for sale on the menu is from the Milling-smith’s farm, as, presumably, is the honeycomb in a flavor trifecta with pickled carrots on a cured-meat plate.
Food pops out quickly as we sip cocktails. My guest’s vodkabased Tainted Lady with ginger, pink peppercorn and hibiscus is as fruity and thirst-quenching as Jamaican sorrel; From Manhattan to Hudson, a twist on a stiff rye Manhattan, is softened with rose-petal syrup. Petals and florals abound.
Truffled egg toast is an upscale riff on egg-in-a-basket, with melted Fontina cheese framing a leaky egg yolk on crustless toast, shaved truffles on top, asparagus beneath. It’s fabulous — something you’ll run home and whip up. Robert Sietsema, the dining critic for Eater, recalls Denton’s 1998 Greenwich Village wine bar, where Sietsema first had it, but those new to the dish will discover the
asparagus are not criss-crossed spears but inch-long bites. Five to be precise, tucked under the edge. C’mon, give us toast-bearing lengths; for $16, make it an entire raft.
Plates are pretty. In the squid-ink soprese, tender white squid glows against the black, floppy-brimmed pasta. There’s surprising sweetness and vinegar tang where we expected salty sausage 'nduja. It’s gone too soon. At the end, a pavlova meringue inset with mascarpone and poached rhubarb is a delicate scene, and moist olive oil cake with poached cherries and fresh cheese is a superb win.
The folks at Feast & Floret like Italian names but most are bitter greens like spigarello, a relative of broccolini, with heat and umami from Aleppo pepper and shallot confit. While my guest’s steelhead trout rides a swoosh of aioli beside a shaved fennel and torn orange nest, the spigarello is a $10 a-la-carte side for a thick, wood-fired pork chop boasting a seared crust and salty strip of fat, but is disappointingly dry. I saw through two-thirds, pairing a succulent German pinot noir trocken and smear two cipollini onions roasted spreadably soft. Alongside are three tiny pickled peppers — Basque Guindillas, I’m sure — arranged like a claw.
I'm gently irked Pelaccio's legacy still looms large as critics traipse back in pondering how Feast & Floret will set itself apart and connecting dots to former New York City days. The main drag of Warren Street, like so many Hudson rivertowns, is awash in transplanted downstate chefs, bartenders and restaurateurs, and at some point the local editions have to stand on their own, forebears notwithstanding. Feast & Floret does, setting its own pace with an identity sufficiently casual for day-to-night cheese and wine, pasta and affogata, cocktails and steak. Relaxed enough to house a florist: less alchemy, more farmhouse chic. Not cheap, for sure — $200 for two, with four drinks but before before tip. While Denton may have moved upstate, a peek in the side alley kitchen door reveals a crew of young women chefs running the show.