One More Compliment for Poppy

When you're reviewing a restaurant whose specialty is a tray of ten tiny dishes, each a complex weave of flavors -- and the food is accompanied by the city's best cocktails and desserts -- some aspect is not going to make it into print.

And in Poppy's case, it was the service, which was pitched exactly right: When I came for the full meal, our waiter checked in to see what needed explaining, but she didn't belabor the restaurant's concept -- signaling loud and clear that Poppy's service was going to be radically different  from the frouforall at the Herbfarm. I asked her about one of the cocktails (the one with coconut and curry, if I remember), and she immediately steered me away from it, which made me trust her subsequent recommendation of the Lookout. She was also making smart readings of her customers: The table next to us appeared to like their waitresses with a little sass, and so she sassed them; in contrast, my friend and I were more intent on catching up with one another, so she'd occasionally drift into the corner of my field of vision to see if I wanted to catch her eye, then drifted away.

I also enjoyed the fact that, on both visits, Traunfeld delivered the occasional dish to the tables around us. But he was sweetly modst about it, not in that "I'm going to stride around in pristine chef's whites and attract compliments" manner that some front-of-house chefs do.

That level of understated panache is what makes Poppy a great neighborhood restaurant.