Tuesday, July 14, 2009
'Quaint' is a subjective adjective, one signifying different properties based on personal experience. Doilies, picket fences, the Amish, an AOL account--each might be considered 'quaint' by different people. My jaded, stone-cold Brooklyn spirit predisposed to scoffing at attempted preciousness found in Quaint a disarmingly warm restaurant, living up to its name in ways I suspect it didn't intend. The food was fantastic: green gazpacho--complements of the chef!--is a refreshing kiss of seasonal sunshine on a rainy evening; the 'crispy, spicy' calamari is just that, with huge fully-connected tentacles that I oh-so-covet; and the chicken is, literally, the BEST chicken I've had in the city. Though the food and atmosphere are typical of any BoCoCa bistro, it's the unaffected simplicity that makes Quaint a Sunnyside stand-out. No artfully-distressed paint, no gimmicky mismatched chairs, no purposely-aloof-bordering-on-godawful service (in fact, it was almost too quick and attentive, but how dare I judge?). In short, a welcome reprieve from the Brooklyn restaurant scene that deposited my dining partner and I back on the Skillman Avenue satisfied and speculating on Queens rent prices. Thanks, Quaint, for a nice meal without 20% attitude included.
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Photo:
Courtesy of Quaint
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