The West Village has gone through a radical transformation in just 40 short years. In the ‘60s it was filled with hippies, war protestors, and gay and lesbian couples happy to live their lives relatively free from street-side discrimination. Today it still has all of those groups – but it also contains Cosmo-sipping Sex and the City girls, celebrity residents, baby carriages a plenty, about 1,000 Marc Jacobs stores, and designer cupcakes.

At the crux of this historic area is Sheridan Square – it’s actually sort of a triangle, really, down around 7th Ave. in the West Village’s literal heart. Nearby, many chic restaurants (remember Moomba?) have lived and died in the past decade and a half, and the latest outpost in this area is called, quite simply, Sheridan Square. The restaurant features chef Franklin Becker, who did time both at the uber-successful Brasserie in the Seagram Building in midtown, as well as a stint as Ron Perelman’s personal chef.

Design-wise, this place is about longevity rather than flash-in-the-pan: multi-toned wood planks, black and white photography, brown leather banquettes and a panoply of masculine earth tones give off a vibe that’s unexciting yet also unpretentious and somewhat elegant. It’s not really the best for a hot date or business dinner where you want to impress ten over-the-top clients, but for a quiet upscale dinner with someone you like, it fits the bill.

On a Saturday night, the restaurant was happily crowded (which isn’t the case everywhere in NYC these days) – the maitre’d and waiter were downright St. Louis-friendly. “If you have any questions, ask me – we want you to be happy,” the waiter said – and they had no idea my friend and I were in reviewing this place.

We started with an escargot appetizer, which was good but not quite as garlicky and slap-your-butt-with-your-tongue good as in the best French places. A special soup of chicken stock, delicate sweet sausage and leeks was much more successful – a real autumnal joy. The menu touts its “cherrywood-grilled” items as an entrée option – my friend had a medium-rare rib-eye steak, and I had the trout. My fish was really well done, oily enough to have a lot of flavor, but not too much; the steak, said my friend (and I agreed), was just average. That wood-burning oven just made it taste too -- woody. Finally, a foie gras torchon was a well-oiled machine from this former Brasserie alum, and would do great in any good French restaurant in the city. The flavor here – vibrant American with a tinge of French – is well-executed – but, to be honest, it has been done before.

Dessert was very good – a delicate strawberry shortcake that was feather-light, and the perfectly-executed S’mores – about the highest-end version you’ll ever find, with thick chocolate ganache. That dessert says pretty much everything you need to know about this place – everything is well-executed – it just doesn’t hit you over the head as new or innovative. If you’re the type to wear a flashy baguette-diamond Rolex, it’s not for you. If you’ve got a vintage Patek Philippe on your wrist with nary a logo, though, you’ll appreciate this place’s very classical, un-Sex and the City, non-blingy vibe.

~Stephen Milioti

Sheridan Square, 134 7th Ave. South (at W. 10th St.), 212.352.2237

Rating:
Looks- 8/10
Taste- 7/10
Value- 7/10
Service- 8/10

Total ...30/40

First photo by Kreiger for Eater
Second photo via New York Journal
Third photo by Steven Richter for Insatiable Critic