No One’s Talking About Bufón. Time to Fix That.
A restaurant that does not ration joy.
Everyone’s talking about the $40 half chickens, and the lines for Myka’s Greek Frozen Yogurt, and the amazing British coastal pub food at Dean’s (which, admittedly is fab). But no one’s talking about the clams at Bufón. I’m here to change that. It feels good to have purpose.
But wait. Let’s back up a second. Let me first tell you a little about Bufón, a charming restaurant that opened late last year on the Lower East Side. It’s on the wide busy corner where Sauce used to be, right at the elbow of Rivington and Allen, and it comes from the culinary team behind the West Village wine bar Demo – Wildair alumni Jacob Nass, chefs Quang “Q” Nguyen and Dina Fan and partner Ian Henderson-Charnow.
Chef Q has a kind of cool backstory: he studied trombone for 11 years in college before starting his restaurant career in Texas and New Orleans, but working front of the house. When he moved to New York City, he shifted to the back of the house, cooking in top kitchens including Má Pêche, Cosme, and Wildair, where he met Jacob and Ian. Dina began cooking 16 years ago in New York City, starting at En Japanese Brasserie. From there she moved to Ma Pêche (where she met Q) then to Tertulia, before going overseas to spend time in Tokyo, Hong Kong, Singapore and Sydney. Once back in New York, she cooked at several top natural wine focused restaurants like Hemlock, the Four Horsemen, and Racines.
At Bufón, as at Demo, Jacob runs wine and service, pouring an exciting and delicious list that represents a broad range of terroir-driven, low-intervention winemakers. The cocktails are also terrific — including one of the best Old Fashioneds in the city — made with Cognac and Armagnac, Angostura bitters, rich demerara syrup, muddled orange and Luxardo cherries, served on two big rocks of ice.
The hook at Bufón is reimagining classic Mediterranean and European cuisine through a contemporary lens that’s reflective of the chefs’ eclectic experience and ancestry. That means plates imbued with a yin-yang of traditional and unconventional, with cooks coloring inside the lines of classic French cooking, but turning the canvas sideways and adding bolts of global strokes from a life’s worth of travels and stories. And about the name. “Bufón is Spanish for jester or clown,” Jacob told me. “It’s our reminder not to take ourselves too seriously.” That sense of joy is a thread sewn through the fabric of this exceptional restaurant.
Now back to those clams. They are gently blanched, just barely cooked, and served on the half-shell, in a Laotian sauce called Jeow som, a sweet-tart-spicy dipping sauce that Q learned from his Laotian brother-in-law. It’s sunny and tart, fiery and sour, a big bomb of happy umami from a perfect balance of fish sauce, chiles, sugar, garlic, mushroom powder and a flurry of tiny cilantro stems. Toss these back and you will gasp. It’s impossible to stay quiet, and you should not. Picture a swim in a clear cold ocean; the sensation of losing your breath, of being fully alive. They are that good. Order two rounds, or more if you like. This is not a place to ration joy.
There is more on the menu to double down on. The sugar snaps, cut into inch-long trapezoids, bright green and snappy as a Pop song, fat with sweet peas, are served in a shallow bowl of a sort of pesto made from the peas, garlic, jalapeño, toasted pepitas and mint. Maddy and I thought about going into the kitchen and cooking some spaghetti to toss in there, it would make such a gorgeous pasta dish. But we stayed at our table, devouring the plate, with all its textures and fresh spring flavors on every bite.
The artichokes are also essential – leaves like miniature fans fried to French fry crispness, dressed with a sauce vierge, the classic raw French sauce that Q and Dina make from finely diced tomatoes, onions, olives and black garlic, tucked next to some whipped feta. It’s an amazing Mediterranean riff on chips and salsa.
Larger plates are equally compelling. Have the rainbow trout – steamed in a banana leaf and glossed with a dill beurre blanc with asparagus trout roe; gorgeous, elegant, exciting. Morels come up all creamy and plump with pine nuts and drifts of parmigiano-reggiano, tossed around in a bowl of al dente spaghetti. Duck is served with dates and pickled cipollini, and tardivo in a sticky duck tare similar to the one Ned makes over at Zoli for his duck hearts. Brilliant minds.
The Sugar Hill farms pork chop is also something to behold, sliced into juicy slabs, swimming in a sofrito made from Chinese bacon—a traditional dry-cured pork belly—and framed with tender braised butterbeans and sharp broccoli rabe. The team also does a nice selection of steaks – picanha, a koji-marinated short rib, a ribeye and a bavette, that you can pair with fries, or crispy confited potatoes, some sauteed spring greens or chile-crisped long beans. You could just go for steaks and all sides and their freezer-cold martinis and the clams of course. Consider it.
The space has a been-here-forever vibe, with floor-to-ceiling glass doors that open wide to the busy grit of the street and a friendly oval bar that feels welcoming and well-worn; a place where everyone knows your name even though you’ve only just walked in. Designer Camilla Deterre keeps the front bar room breezy and more vibey, with a cozier, quieter, more intimate dining room tucked away past the bar room, so it’s a restaurant that can fit any mood or occasion.
Bufón has not been in the press all that much, so you probably haven’t read about it, but now you have. And I’ve told you about the clams. My work is done. Now go eat. Can’t wait to hear what you think.
Bufón is located at 78 Rivington St, (201) 839-6701, opentable.com.
By nobody you mean everyone but me, right? 😜 Obsessed!
Bufón has been a gem of a place since it opened last year. The staff and the menu are in perfect harmony to provide a great experience, which they never fail to deliver. The wine program is really interesting and provides a playground for the curious and adventurous wine drinker.