The downtown answer and little brother to Midtown favorite Sofrito’s may not yet have the experience that comes with age; but its safe to say an exquisite waitstaff, superior chefs, and gracious owner JR Morales, do. The staff posesses both the know-how and the savoir-faire to run authentic Puerto Rican establishment Sazón not like a well-oiled machine, but like a living, breathing organism: genuinely and seemingly effortless; deliberate and autonomous.
There’s not much that I despise more than eating somewhere like Chipotle or Chili’s, the Middle America of authentic Spanish food. Just because you can order rice & beans there does not make it good. If I wanted to taste something horribly generic, I’d just cook something myself.
And that is where Sazón succeeds: the place can not get more authentic; more Pueto Rican if it tried. We’re not just talking about the food that tastes like it came from Abuela’s house, we’re talking about the atmosphere, the beyond pleasant demeanor of the servers; even fellow diners who invite themselves to jive with the table next to them. When you’re at Sazón, you’re eating as one (huge) Puerto Rican family– a comfortable place where your Clams Latino are served with laughter, your drinks are strong, and there’s always room for more (even when, honestly, there isn’t). Take this from someone who coincidentally shows up unannounced at the house of my Puerto Rican friends around dinner time. Sazón has managed to embody true Puerto Rican tradition– both in its food and its ambiance.
Sazón was abuzz by the time we arrived, and the first thing Ashley and I noticed besides our enthusiastic host was the decor. Our eyes bounced from the pumpkin orange tufted back wall, which was offset by a vermilion wall, which was offset by the charcoal (acoustic) ceiling and black lacquered chandeliers. We agreed that while there was no rhyme or reason, these elements tied together to provide a warm, unique aesthetic that was by no means shrill.
We settled into a two-person table and began munching on pressed garlic bread with white bean dip, and it was then that I knew I was sold. From there we sampled a couple of traditional Puerto Rican appetizers. To my great fortune, Ashley is a pescatarian and this rendered me the designated eater of all things meat. The alcapurrias (steamed tarot root stuffed with beef picadillo) came highly recommended and with good reason– the contrasting textures of the tarot root and the beef (for non-foodies out there, imagine a less dry, better seasoned meatball) left not much to be desired. Ashley even tried the tarot root, despite its’ close proximity to the beef. I was proud. Also of delicious note were the Ashley-friendly Surillitos (corn fritters), which is sort of like what would happen if a corndog were filled with cornmeal and no dog. I was pleased to find that the taste of my favorite boardwalk delicacy could be enjoyed sans processed pig. Oscar who?
Next, we tried De Pulpo, octopus tossed in garlic citrus vinaigrette; a salad combining my love of seafood and green olives. I’m becoming convinced that no meal should be served without octopus. The salad was light and fresh and completely forgotten about once our main course came out: the Pargo Entero con Arroz de Coco, or in english, a whole red snapper with coconut rice. Also, it was stuffed with a myriad of seafood: mussels, scallops, and shit, even entire clams were thrown in there; shell and all. I looked across the table with fear and excitement in my eyes. Truth be told, I’ve never had a whole fish before and was a little flummoxed on how one eats it. Certainly not from the outside in. I began pushing the coconut rice around my plate and waiting for Ashley to make her move. Once we had cleared the snapper of its seafood innards, I had reached enlightenment. The meat of the fish was once hidden by clam shell, but now that it was visible, it looked tender and marinated in juices and deliciousness. My suspicions were proved correct as we aggressively dug into this fish, and I began to wonder if something so jarring visually had the right to be so tasty (I mean, the fish still had his eyes. I know most of the food I consume has a face, but I never imagined I’d be eating something while starring lovingly into the windows of its soul). I learned what it really means when they say it’s what’s on the inside that counts.
After drinking stronger-than-Popeye cocktails all night and eating enough to hibernate for the winter, we were ready to call it quits. Yet and still, there was one last course to be devoured and JR Morales be damned if we left before trying it (that, and some shots of Patron). We were not about to let Mr. Morales down, not after the wonderful dining experience we’d had, so we gave dessert a go.
I’m really not one for sweets, or cake, or chocolate, so when the Timbal de Chocolate entered my mouth and I almost dropped to my knees to give thanks to the Lord, I was a little more than shocked (especially since I’m not exactly religious). I don’t know what Timbal is, and I won’t pretend that I do, but far be it from me to suggest that it came from anywhere but Heaven. Soft, chocolate, peanut-buttery, hint of strawberry Heaven. Another favorite was the Tembleque, a coconut eggless custard with cinnamon. While it resembles flan, I was pleased to find that it didn’t have the same gelatin texture. The only variance between the tembleque and flan is that flan ismade with eggs, but the subtle difference in recipe made all the difference to a flan hater like myself. Mr. Morales told us he wasn’t exactly fluent in Puerto Rican desserts, so he went to Puerto Rico, tried some samples, and enjoyed them so much that he took not only the recipes, but the chefs, with him back to America.
On top of a more-than-satisfactory dinner, Ashley sampled both the red and white sangria, while I went for the Tito Trinidad KO, one of Sazón’s speciality cocktails. Most of you know that KO stands for knock out, which is what my drink was, and what subsequently happened to me after drinking one too many. When I announced my drink choice, the waiter smiled at me sympathetically and said, “You sure?” I was sure: I mean, a drink with vodka, gin, Malibu rum, tequila, Triple Sec, Chambord, Hypnotiq, and Red Bull? How could I go wrong? I enjoy all of those liquors. The KO was a silent killer. One minute, I was sipping on a fruity, tropical cocktail and munching rum soaked shrimp, and the next I was throwing back shots of Patron, chain-smoking, and pouring myself into bed at 3 AM on a Tuesday night. What I’m trying to say is, this is one drink that won’t be soaked up every time you take a bite of your meal. Quite relentless, but also quite delicious and comes highly recommended from The Luxury Spot’s resident boozehound.
All in all, Sazón can easily be dubbed one of the best restaurants to open in NYC this past year, with all of the glam and none of the pretension. The crowd was mixed, the drinks were strong, the food was outstanding, and I even heard a couple of BeeGees songs playing in the background. As if that’s not enough, you downtowners no longer have to travel to Sofrito’s for your fix of authentic Puerto Rican flavor. ¡Que increible!
Sazón is located at 105 Reade St [Tribeca] in New York, NY 10013. Make a reservation by e-mailing info@sazonnyc.com.
