Cuisine: New American
Bar Type: Restaurant & Bar / Cocktails
I came here and still have no idea what a “provision” is. I thought it was some sort of Old West thing — like a feed store or something — but as far as I can tell it’s just like three random items this restaurant shoves up in the upper right hand corner of their menu and labels them “provisions.” Okay then. Putting that definitional kerfuffle aside, I’m having a hard time remembering what I actually ate here. Not the best sign — though, as I age, my memory banks need to clear out the old stuff to make way for new things. And I have a lot more important memories in there than the meal I ate on a random Wednesday in March.
Great start to a restaurant “review,” right? Well, you know what you’re getting yourself into when you read anything on this site. Or maybe you don’t. But, suffice it to say, there is a quality about Black Sheep that is not particularly memorable. The first thing is the location and the space. The restaurant itself is embedded is some sort of a new-ish construction large complex that wraps the block. You park behind the oddball building and find your way through a walkway, passing doctor’s offices and maybe a bunch of private residences, and between a ubiquitous European Wax and Massage Envy you’ll find it out on the corner of a busy 50-way intersection surrounded by suburban traffic and a lovely view of the giant Shoprite across the street. And, look, not all joints are going to have picturesque views of adorable twinkle-lit West Village brownstones or ocean vistas, but this one is just particularly suburban dreary. The space itself — owed mostly to its oddball corner location — is a little confusing and non-traditional when you first walk in. It’s like having an octagonal room in your home — or living in one of those round houses — where the furniture can’t sit at 90-degree angles anywhere, or line the walls like a couch would normally line a wall. It’s funky. But not in a this-is-an-old-building kind of way. It’s new, which begs the question what the heck they were thinking when the architect asked for a boomerang-shaped restaurant space?
Otherwise, the decor is pretty generic standard modern gastropub with a few too many hard surfaces and an acoustic-tile ceiling that may have been better off with some classier finishes. Something about it feels a little unfinished or rushed, and the color palette is mid-century beige and black Restoration Hardware catalog. And, while they say you eat with your eyes, nothing here was particularly unappetizing in any way, but it didn’t exactly inspire consumption. Let’s call it neutral. Which, if you ask the restaurateur may have been intentional, removing distraction to let the food shine through. Yes, let’s go with that. Seated with our unobstructed view of the aforementioned Shoprite intersection, we settled in and ordered some drinks. I’m not certain what the alcohol permits look like in Garwood, but they certainly have one. Thank god. My Manhattan was good. Kudos to the bartender. Though it is pretty much — save a gin and tonic — one of the easiest drinks to make. Now, here is where my memory (and, unusually, Ms. Hipster’s) fails me. We got two appetizers. One was a fried artichoke dish. And it was delicious. Because fried artichokes are just good. The second thing was some sort of cheese — the fact Ms. Hipster can’t recall what kind of cheese almost has me wondering if she’s started to sundown — with greens that may or may not have been arugula on top of it. We both recall it was maybe lightly fried or sautéed, or in some way cooked, but was just north of room temperature when served. Which, was surprising to all of us, thinking it would be hot or, at the very least, warm. I vaguely recall liking it more then my three dining companions, but it was forgettable and clearly something everyone would have skipped given a time machine.
Now, here’s where things went a little haywire. Black Sheep has a really small, rotating menu. Our friends who brought us here were actually at the restaurant the week prior, and some of the items were no longer on the list from their last visit. But, with a menu filled with what amounts to New American grub (which is just American food with inflated prices), all three of them chose to order burgers. Burgers! $25 burgers! That doesn’t much speak to their menu and how or if it made diners want to explore or, well, be inspired by what they saw. And, frankly, when the burgers came, there was nothing jump-out-of-my-chair exciting about them either. Ms. Hipster claims her medium rare burger was cooked properly — though I’d say it was closer to medium — but said that the seasoning was spotty and inconsistent. She’d take one bite and get some saltiness, but then the next bite would be bland and meh. You gotta salt your meat evenly, dudes. I tasted her fries and they were decent. But, otherwise, you could go anywhere for a mid burger and probably pay less. Point being, they all chose to order something you can find on the menu of any diner, pub or fast food joint rather than try something unique to this eatery. Bad sign. However, I did actually opt for something specific: seafood stew. Because nothing says ocean like watching Honda Pilots speed by in landlocked NJ. The stew was set in a tomato base and a pasta called fregola, which is kind of like large pearls of Israeli couscous, but a little more pasta-ish. Sitting in the bowl were a few shrimp, mussels and crab. Anything with mussels is semi-interactive, but all in all the seafood was more of an accoutrement than a main ingredient. They gave some briny flavor, but it was mostly a pasta dish with a little bit of spice and some richness probably coming off the crab. Not bad, but as more of a curiosity than anything else. Now I know what fregola is and that I can apparently tolerate Sambuca being in my food despite hating the taste of black licorice. Would I pay $38 for it again? I would not. Though I refused to get a burger — mainly because I knew I’d have to write this review and couldn’t bare to try to describe another meat patty on bread.
Ultimately, it comes down to the company you keep. And, of course, we had a nice time hanging out with our friends, chatting over some drinks and having an excuse to do so by ordering food and forcing us to go out in the middle of the week. I suppose we spent at least five minutes confused by the menu, so that gave us some extra time to spend together. And the waitstaff was efficient and unobtrusive, I suppose. So, there was no break in the conversation. Um, what else can I say? It was a pleasant and much needed evening out with friends, which is inspirational for us. Even if the food wasn’t.
514 North Ave. – Garwood
908/518-9463
theblacksheepnj.com
