There is nothing more disappointing to me than bad chicken parmesan. It’s one of my favorite things in the world and when restaurants screw it up it’s like they kicked my dog (if I had one) or keyed my Porsche (if I had one). In other words, it’s like they took something I love and intentionally destroyed it just to spite me. I’m not sure who this Federico is, but he must have a picture of me in the kitchen with a big “don’t serve Mr. Hipster anything good” sign over it. He went nuts with the chicken mallet back there and smashed my chicken breast into atomic dust. He then breaded this dust, threw some cheese and tasteless sauce on top and served it to me with a devilish grin. Seriously, it was like eating a plate of fried, tough breading in a puddle of lukewarm ketchup. Maybe there are some dishes on the menu that are okay, but if the place can’t make a good chicken parm, then it ain’t worth squat. [MF]
251 W 50th St.