Foul Witch, Reviewed: An Unnervingly Sensuous Restaurant from the Roberta’s Team | The New Yorker
"On a lower block of Avenue A that feels neither hip nor interesting, the restaurant’s long, narrow, high‑ceilinged dining room reads like a hallway to nowhere: rough brick walls, exposed ductwork, and an open kitchen with a startup‑garage haphazardness make the space feel unfinished rather than artfully gritty. The vibe — very much in the Roberta’s family — lands as an absence of charm, but early winter sunsets, low interior lighting, and food so fascinatingly delicious make you stop caring where you’re sitting. Every meal begins with a generous complimentary portion of bread and butter (crisp, oil‑slick focaccia; a bien cuit sour baguette; an enormous, yolk‑yellow, sea‑salted butter). Chef and co‑owner Carlo Mirarchi brings Blanca’s tasting‑menu DNA to an inventive à la carte menu that nonchalantly uses ultra‑luxury ingredients: pawpaw rounds bathed in cream under a slumping scoop of Golden Kaluga caviar; soft, curvaceous tortellini filled with veal sweetbreads in a golden broth brightened by an Amaretto butterscotch note; a tender charcoal‑grilled wagyu with an earthy sunchoke béarnaise. The wine list leans global and delightfully odd (I was enraptured by a Slovenian pinot grigio described as “entirely un‑green,” and fell for a gravelly Ryšák Czech blend), and playful, viral items like the Fire & Ice — stracciatella spooned over brick‑red ’nduja — have been both a TikTok hit and deliberately limited by the kitchen. Foul Witch began as a 2018 Frieze Art Fair pop‑up, its doodle‑like wall figures carrying that irreverent origin through occasional spooky decor; when dishes misstep (a sulfurous charred caraflex cabbage in pork blood), I’m inclined to forgive the ambition because the unifying impression is concentrated sensuality — food that is lush, libidinous, and physically indulgent." - H, e, l, e, n, , R, o, s, n, e, r
