NEW YORK POST
February 20, 2002

FEAST MEETS OUEST by Steve Cuozzo

"Nothing to apologize for," the waiter at Ouest kids us when we explain that our half-eaten filet mignon was just too much to finish. "It's bigger than you."

He's close. In any fair weigh-in, the half we left on the plate would clobber the whole one we endured at nearby Jean-Luc, where it cost $32 to Ouest's $27. And Ouest's is dreamily buttery under a light porcini mushroom crusting, just enough to seal in the juice while leaving its earthy imprint.

Filet mignon, which can be as dull in a steak house as on a 747, is usually a lousy benchmark for sizing up a restaurant. But Ouest is no steak house, although it can be as noisy as a 747. And the love Ouest lavishes on its pedestrian-sounding dish speaks volumes about the place.

Trying to get through on the phone can remind you of getting reservations at Nobu, and you will go into Ouest itching to knock it down a peg. But - curses - since it opened last spring, it's actually has gotten better.

By now, even Ohioans know about Ouest, chef/co-owner Tom Valenti's temple to ribs-tickling Manhattan-American bistro cooking. Its savvy service, wram wood walls and sea of giant, round red-leather booths go down well in a district starved for an adult dining room.

It's the rare place north of West 72nd Street that has not allowed the tots-and-TV crowd to take over. And you'd never know it from the zoo-like front bar, but Ouest doesn't overbook.

Warning: Go in a group of four or more. You want a booth, each a cozy, sexy little world unto itself. Parties of two get the cramped banquettes, where the sloshed babe next to us one night tipped our wine bottle, which we caught just in time.

Ouest's menu offers none of the wild spins without which jaded foodies can't face the day - just intelligent ones that rely on unerring execution. It's strong on rich sauces, herbs and wine, light on fads.

When a fad does appear, it is handled with dexterity - like the potato-fennel puree with truffle crusted roast cod ($24) that lets you taste the fennel without turning the fish to licorice.

Appetizers, like the salmon gravlax ($12) on a chickpea pancake, fired with mustart oil and adorned with salmon roe and corn, set you up for Valenti's entrees. What's amazing is not only how good they are, but how they've withstood the strain of a nine-month feeding grenzy.

I had braised short ribs ($25) with polenta in Ouests' early days, and I'm damned if they weren't better on one of my recent visits - more arrestingly seasoned, and served with fava beans and baby turnips.

Pan-roasted squab ($25) was as juicy as at a previewmeal. The only letdown was oddly denatured honeycomb tripe braised in bland tomoato-wine sauce ($16) - "tripe for the country club," my friend joke.

Pastry chef Michael Moorehouse's desserts, like a "sundae" made with pineapple granite, deliver a sweet closing punch. The wine list can give you eyestrain, but it's full of bargains like lively Argentine Malbec Terrazas 1999 for $32.

Lately, some new Upper West Side bistros have begged comparisons with Ouest. Dream on. There are the rest - and there is Ouest.