BlackBook Magazine

Braving the L.E.S. for some lascivious French. Or so we thought.

By Ethan Wolff

Le Lupanar takes its name from French slang for “brothel”, but the new L.E.S. space isn’t exactly a Turkish cathouse. Lines are spare. There are no pillows or settees. “Brothel” is printed on the business cards, though there’s no smuttiness there either. Just clean design and an L-shaped corporate logo. The logo reappears on the black napkins, which look lifted from the Baltimore Ravens commissary. You get the feeling this place is thoughtful. They’re trying. A couple of weeks in, though, the disparities have yet to fully coalesce.

The neighborhood could stand a haute French place. Le Père Pinard is festive enough, although no great shakes. Café Charbon is a waste of space. At Lupanar, chef Ian Brahmstedt shows tantalizing flashes of brilliance. The menu is seasonal, with hearty winter dishes in the current rotation. There are two soups, the first a lavender-shaded roasted eggplant purée, dotted with sage oil and topped with a sage leaf. It’s an excellent combination, although I preferred the stronger flavor of the pumpkin soup, another purée, this one topped with a crostini that gradually suffuses and sinks. My favorite app was the oxtail salad. The moist meat synched up perfectly with arugula and pickled onions, in a subtle horseradish vinaigrette.

Entrées were hit or miss. Sturgeon was a new add-on to the menu and it didn’t quite hold together, its texture on the gummy side. The free-range chicken breast had character in the meat, but it was cold by the time it arrived, and the parsnip purée and brandy wine jus had to lean too hard on the coarse-cut bacon for flavor. The beef filet was spectacular, though. Incredibly tender and flavorful, the huge cut sat regally on a bed of caramelized salsify, roasted asparagus, and niçoise olive jus. On the side, homemade rolls were chewy and flavorful, and especially amazing when piping hot from the oven. Rounding off the meal are chocolate tarts and crème brûlée, and coffee from nearby Roasting Plant, which they’re brewing too thin.

Floral motifs dominate the room, stylized pink orchids in stained glass, and gunmetal-gray orchid-petal walls that have the appearance of pressed tin. A trio of black chandeliers dangle from a recessed wood panel over a central communal table. It’s all stylish, if unobtrusive. Unfortunately, the space’s only soft surface is a lived-in-looking white banquette cushion. When there’s a girls’ night out party filling that central table, the noise bounce can be something less than ideal.

On my way out, I noticed a waiter sliding open a panel to reveal a hidden staircase. Apparently there’s a basement lounge in the works. Maybe that will serve as Lupanar’s still-elusive center of gravity. Then again, as a denizen of the modern L.E.S., I should probably note that Lupanar was also the name of the main brothel of Pompeii.

QUICK BITES
Cuisine: Haute French
Vibe: Modern, savant
Occasion: Romantic occasion that won’t be better served by a brothel run
Damage: $115 for a three-course meal for two, including $10 corkage fee for BYOB
Reservations: Recommended
Not to Be Missed: Filet of beef, $34

103 Essex St. (Delancey and Rivington Sts.) lelupanarnyc.com 212-533-0161 Lower East Side