OpenTable has truly revolutionized the world of dining out, making it far easier to secure restaurant reservations and eliminating the restaurant-side errors in handling them. Its site interacts with thousands of diners a week in the Twin Cities, and post-meal, OpenTable now queries users about their experience.

Those surveys are tabulated to form the new Diners Choice rankings of local restaurants, currently in beta testing. OpenTable says it receives 200,000 forms each month (globally) but doesn’t list the number of votes individual restaurants received, an important bit of context. OpenTable’s Twin Cities Top 10 is a generally credible list of fine dining and heritage restaurants, but it has several wild outliers, which raises some curious questions about the process.

I personally don’t think The Lexington is the fifth best restaurant in the region. It has a strong local following and a beloved bar. But I would only recommend it within some very narrow criteria.

More puzzling: Rossi’s Steakhouse ranked number four regionally. I ate a wide-ranging meal at Rossi’s a few weeks ago with some colleagues. It’s a charming space, but the service was amateurish, and the food was borderline inedible. If the recipe wasn’t deeply flawed, the execution was. And prices are top-drawer.

Cruise to OpenTable’s steak rankings, and Porterhouse in Little Canada comes in at number one. Buona Sera in Champlin is second only to D’Amico Cucina in Italian dining, and Porterhouse and Lake Elmo Inn are the top restaurants in the “Minneapolis suburbs,” illustrating the risks of listings put together by non-locals.

Zagat has turned restaurant rankings into an art form. Though there are limitations to its brief, often confusing write-ups, I have rarely been steered wrong by the foodies who vote in Zagat’s system, whose methodology appears inferior to OpenTable’s, which surveys diners immediately after their meal. What’s the difference? Beats me.

One thing is you need a large sample size to avoid skewed results. It’s a pitfall of our annual Readers’ Poll of restaurants. Other risks are eateries that try to stack the deck by forging ballots and mailing or e-mailing multiples in. (This includes a restaurant that ranks very high in OpenTable’s listing, hmmm. How hard would it be for restaurants to set up dummy OpenTable user accounts, book meals, and then extol the virtues?) Real diners often misunderstand the category or have a limited range of dining experiences on which they base their votes. The outcomes aren’t always pretty and sometimes downright embarrassing.

Taste is taste of course, and there is no one right answer. But in light of all the recent online discussion about the value of critics and the utility of restaurant critics in specific, it’s hard to come away from all this without reaffirming my long-held belief that I’d rather have the opinion of one inveterate critic whose taste I trust than the opinions of hundreds of eaters I don’t know. As they say: garbage in, garbage out.

It's Fresh Forkin' Friday, and I can't believe it's the close of the first month of summer. Where did June go?

The only restaurant that I've heard of opening this week was a little place called Mango, which replaced the recently closed Thai Delight in the Selby-Dale neighborhood in St. Paul.

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Speaking of Thai, did you hear that Krua Thailand has changed hands? Who knows what the new owners intend, but I think a lot of people thought Krua was the best in the city, and they're anxious.

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It's Pride Festival this weekend. I know you'll be heading down to Loring Park to get a bite of Ruby's BBQ or some rainbow cupcakes. Can you name a festival with better people watching?

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What else will you be doing this weekend? Checking out the Maibach of blenders? What kind of magical, frozen drinks could this baby put out?

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Wondering if IKAN will be the only way for you to remember pickles when you go to the grocery store?

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Grilling or drinking or marinating?

Tuscany.

Steady yourself. Deep breath. Take a sip of water. If you’re still able to continue, I congratulate you because apparently there is an association Americans make with the best-known region of Italy that connotes seriously good eating. Skeptical? Let me tell you about my evening last Monday.

It started as I was walking through Kowalski’s in search of a ripe tomato, and I spied the ubiquitous Kettle Chips bags of unnecessarily crispy chips but in a guise I had not known existed: Tuscan Three Cheese! It offers “the feel and flavor of the Mediterranean” via a dusting of Asiago and Romano cheeses. (Trust me, this is the last thing they’d do with potatoes in Tuscany.)

As I pulled onto Hennepin Ave., I spied Pizza Hut, now serving pasta! And not just any pasta. No, “Tuscani” pastas—chicken alfredo or rotini with marinara sauce. Now the spelling is innovative to be sure. Perhaps a Kristy/Kristi type of innovation is at work though you’d think they would dot the “i” with a heart in that case. I’d suggest the spelling was to prevent an international incident of some sort. If I was Silvio Berlusconi and saw Pizza Hut serving pasta with chicken and cream sauce in the name of one of Italy's revered regions—I’d take out a Pizza Hut or two with an ICBM.

But that’s not all, no sir. My common-law wife and I were watching some Keith Olbermann, and during a commercial break, what appears? A commercial for Fancy Feast Elegant Medleys cat food. The feline favor for Tuscany is, of course, legendary. Thus our friends at Fancy Feast created three different Tuscan “elegant medleys”, such as white meat chicken Tuscany in a savory sauce with long-grain rice and garden greens. (No, the version at Pizza Hut uses pasta, not rice, and is free of garden greens, so don’t even go there.)

Those gauzy fantasies of the hub of Italian culinary authenticity extend beyond yuppie foodies to junk food junkies, fast-food fanatics, and hissing house pets. Buon appetito! Meow.

Wouldn't it be nice this summer to escape from your busy, hectic, real life and run away to wine country? Can't you just picture yourself in a rented convertible driving through rolling, picturesque hills with a picnic in the trunk as you head to a small winery, where you might be inspired to play a little bocce under the graceful trees? Wouldn't it be great if you didn't have to pay the $6 million plane ticket? Well, you don't. You can have it all—right here in good ol' Minnesota.

(Cue the record screech.) What!?

The only requirement for a little time in Minnesota wine country is an open mind. You have to leave your wine snobbery in your mud room as you head out the door because it's not like they're pouring you a glass of battery acid. Local wine is made from fermented grapes just like the Californians', and our wine is harder won: It has more character and fortitude. That alone should make you give it a shot. Remember, people used to turn up their noses at wine made in, uh, Oregon. (They must have, right?)

We'll call it something kitschy and puntastic like the Frosty Vine Tour or Searching for Parka Pinot. Grapes of Humidity? Mosquito Varietals? Nah . . .

Alexis Bailey Vineyard is arguably the most well-known of our local vineyards. Driving down through Hastings is a nice ride, and the vineyard itself is summer wonderful. The vine-covered deck is perfect for sampling wine with your picnic fare, which can be supplemented with the vineyard's available local cheese assortment. You'll find friendly competition at the bocce ball court and amiable winery workers who will answer any of your questions. A classic, low-key winery afternoon.

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Down in Red Wing, Falconer Vineyards hosts a Music in the Vines concert series. Stroll around the vineyard, get some sampling in, and cop a squat on the ground and listen to local musicians in a very comfortable, laid-back setting.

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This weekend at the Cannon River Winery, it's the Minnesota Meritage release party. There'll be jazz, food sampling, and a special winemaker's tour on Sunday. If you can't make it this weekend, plan to stop by after a bike ride through the nearby Sogn Valley or attend one of the Wine Appreciation 101 classes with the winemaker.

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Carlos Creek Winery is a little bit of Disneyland madness but fun nonetheless. Located in Alexandria, the winery encompasses 160 acres, which can be toured on a Segway! Or a four-seater Surrey bike! Besides wine, the winery operates the Shops at Carlos Creek and claims to have North America's largest living maze. It is open every day, year-round, and next month, they're throwing a barn dance and silent auction to benefit military families.

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Vino in the Valley is a little different; it's like an outdoor restaurant and vineyard all in one. Thursday through Sunday, the outdoor pavilion is turned into a restaurant serving brick-oven pizzas and pastas along with the vineyard's bottles. The scenery of the surrounding Rush River Valley just might lull you into finding a room at one of the area B&Bs.

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Morgan Creek Vineyard in New Ulm also offers wood-fired pizzas and flatbreads as well as Swiss raclette on their Friday night Winedown for the Weekend. In one of the most beautifully landscaped wineries around, you may also partake in cooking classes, a German wine tasting festival (in conjunction with New Ulm's Bavarian Blast celebration), and a Welsh poetry festival (this Sunday).

This from my five-yearold:

"Mommy what is Snoo?"

"I have no idea. Do you mean snow?"

"No, what's Snoo with you?" Fits and fits of giggles.

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Citizen Cafe (isn't fully functional yet) has opened at 24th Ave. and 38th St. in South Minneapolis. Sample Room vet Michael McKay is chef-owner and will offer kicked-up classic American fare. It looks like fresh, fresh, fresh, and scratch-made to boot for this joint, which could become a neighborhood haunt.

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Salut has opened in St. Paul on Grand Ave. in the old Sidney's space. Same menu as the Edina location but a much bigger bar, cuter wart hogs, and a stellar patio.

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Lovers of black beans and jerk seasoning are in mourning: both Puerta Azul on Selby and West Indies Soul on University and Dale have closed. Fear not, there's still a West Indies outpost at the Midtown Global Market.

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Ravello in Long Lake has also closed. Under new chef-owner Burt Joseph, the tiny spot will re-open as Birch's Restaurant and feature freshened-up American supper club fare. He's secured the fried chicken recipe from the old Buckhorn Cafe, a local eating establishment that helped shape the area back in the 1920s.

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Psycho Suzi's is throwing a big blowout this weekend, partnering up with PBR (natch). It's free for the twenty-one-plus set starting at 3 p.m., and there will be great music, interactive art, and red rockets for everyone on the best tiki patio in the city.

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Next Wednesday marks the beginning of Mill City Cafe's Hot Summer Nights. The usually day-only cafe will open for the evening from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m., offering live music by the Mill City Grinders, two drinks, and food options for a mere $20.

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Sunday is the Svenskarnas Dag celebration at Minnehaha Falls. Do you think they'll have a lutefisk-eating competition? I hope they have those little Swedish fish; I love those.

Three days before the restaurant opening date, during training:

Neighborhood Lady: Well, I'd like a table for four tomorrow night.

Restaurant Manager: I'm so sorry, we're not actually open yet. We're still holding training for our staff.

NL: What do you mean? That's ridiculous.

RM: Well, we use these last few days as training so that when you come in as a paying guest, the staff has had a little bit of practice and can hopefully deliver better service to you.

NL: Well, I think that's rude. The whole neighborhood thinks it's rude that you're not open yet.

RM: I really don't know what to say to that. Can I offer you a $10 gift card to come in and use when we do open next week?

NL: No. I don't even know if I'll ever come back.

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Host: I'm sorry, we're not taking parties more than ten for the first week while we get our legs under us.

Phone Lady: Well, what if I book it for ten and two more people just happen to show up? Are you actually going to turn them away?

H: No, of course not. We're just trying to ensure that the kitchen doesn't get overwhelmed during the first week so that the food comes out in a timely manner. We just don't want you to be disappointed.

PL: Well that's your problem, not mine.

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Guy pulls up in a cheesy, flashy car:

Cheesy Guy: Yeah, I'm going to need you to "Rock Star" this car. (Rock Star means the valet should leave the car out front in the pull-up space).

Valet Guy: I'm sorry sir, we don't actually have any room to do that today; we've been so busy that we need the space.

CG: Uh, I don't think you understand, I'm an owner.

VG: Oh. I'm sorry, I was just told by the management not to Rock Star anyone. Is it OK that I just check with one of them?

CG: Do you want to get fired?

Restaurant Manager: Hi, can I help you?

CG: Yeah, I'm a friend of XXX and an investor in his company. He said that I should be given anything I want.

RM: I appreciate your friendship with the owners, but unfortunately that doesn't actually make you an owner. We really need the space tonight, and even the owners' cars are parked out back. Why don't you come in and let me buy you a drink while the valet parks your car?

CG: Fine. But that kid was really rude.

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Hey, I've got an idea! Wouldn't it be fun to open a restaurant?

OK, I promised a report on my New York City dining last weekend.

It was a sweltering Saturday night in Manhattan, so I decided to get on the commuter train and head up to Westport, Conn., (Martha Stewart’s old haunt) for dinner at Paul Newman’s restaurant Dressing Room. Paul was not in sight, but I soldiered on. The restaurant is attached to wife Joanne Woodward’s labor of love, the Westport Country Playhouse. It’s set in a semi-pastoral setting in the uber-tony suburb. Chef Michel Nischan has had carte blanche to create a restaurant that hits all the current hot buttons (sustainable, local, organic), and the place is a winner. From amazing dry-cooked grilled baby back ribs (no sauce, no smoke, sounds dull, tastes great) with peach slaw to a wonderful striped bass with fava beans and baby beets in a rosé butter to a killer pig plate containing braised shoulder, crisped pork belly, and roasted loin meat—all over a pile of grits and fiddlehead ferns. It was simple but very satisfying fare. I sat at the bar in the warm and informal dining room and watched Big Brown spoil everyone’s evening while I awaited my food. Chef Nischan is typically on the scene and loves to talk food and his local purveyors with diners. Dressing Room is open for lunch and dinner and is a straight shot on the twice-hourly train service from Grand Central.

I had Sunday brunch at Five Points, a charming barrel-vaulted neighborhood restaurant in the Village by the proprietors of the acclaimed Cookshop. If you want to understand how popular brunch is in Manhattan, imagine an SRO crowd standing around for hour-long waits in a restaurant only slightly cooler than the 90 degrees outdoors. I had a tasty asparagus/goat cheese frittata and house-cured pork sausage but was sweatier when I left than when I arrived. I’d go for dinner next time.

Monday I did a two-phase lunch, early at Bar Stuzzichini on Broadway near 21st. It’s an authentic Italian small-plates restaurant that feels very Roman inside, in a designer sort of way. If you go, try the Stuzzichini Misti, a value-priced sampling of small dishes. I can vouch for a competent caponata, incredible scamorza (seared smoked mozzarella in chili oil), wonderful polpette (breaded fried meatballs), and creamy involtini (eggplant stuffed with goat’s cheese).

Later it was on to Resto, the decadent Belgian-influenced restaurant at 29th and Park, where I lunched with the Star Tribune’s Rick Nelson. We started with a daily special that was sort of a spicy pig’s head pulled pork on grilled bread where the heat came from a chilied mayonnaise. I’d have another anytime, but it was a little too hot for Rick’s sensibility, and he grunted something about Paul Peterson’s Edina Restaurant. A deviled egg slice over a fried pocket of ground pork and green onion was rich and intriguing. Even better was a signature grilled cheese with Vermont cheddar, Gruyere, bacon, and pork belly. Decadent doesn’t come close to describing it. I was disappointed with Resto’s acclaimed cheeseburger with a fried egg, pickle, and more Gruyere—even in NYC they overcook the burgers, sheesh. Rick was worried about a blood clot on the flight home, so we stayed away from the beef cheek carbonade (stew) over fries and mustard spiced carrots though everyone says it’s to die for (or from). Resto is a lovely storefront space with an attractive bar and a modern vibe, and the service is great. We need one here. Now.

Photo courtesy of Resto. (Alexandra Solmssen)

I rather like this Friday roundup. I think I'll keep doing it. So there.

Dancing Ganesha has finally opened up in the old Willie's Wine Bar spot at 11th and Harmon in Minneapolis. From the same owners of Nala Pak, they'll start up lunch next week.

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Yes, Sonic has finally come to the Twin Cities! We ARE worthy, and it DOES like us! Can't wait to get over and grab a big, frosty, slushy, dreamy, real-lime limeade in a big Styrofoam cup, just like in all those commercials we've been tempted by on TBS for years.

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Last week I forgot to include The Salty Tart patisserie opening at the Midtown Global Market. Local sweet toothers were already obsessed with Michelle Gayer's pastry treats at La Belle Vie, now they have a lower-key outpost where no one will mind the sucking sounds as they inhale macaroons.

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Did you hear that Big Daddy's BBQ is now open on Fridays for lunch and dinner? A big 'que fan let me know about the summer hours (11 a.m. to 8 p.m.) at the University and Dale joint. You may want to call (651-222-2516) before getting your brisket on.

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Cafe Havana closed. That location is such a crazy place. I used to bartend there when it was Molly Malone's. Deja Vu strippers tip awesomely.

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Speaking of awesome, get to Red Stag Supper Club's block party on Saturday. There will be live music, a flea market, plus food and drink. I hope there are little Scotch quail eggs on tiny sticks.

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The Stone Arch Festival is also this weekend. Whole Foods is sponsoring a Culinary Arts Quarter located in Father Hennepin Park. There will be unique foods to sample and natural meals to purchase. Or you could just mosey over to the Kramarczuk's stand and wolf down a Polish dog.

I love summer.

Top Steph! Would you have ever picked her during that first round with pizza at Uno's? I certainly didn't. I thought she was just the local poster girl and that her niceness would get her kicked out in the first few shows. Silly me.

I have to say that I was very happy with the finale this year. The basic idea of preparing a reflective tasting menu, with the same amount of courses, probably gave the best comparison that the judges have ever really had. I was also happy they didn't throw a culinary curve ball at the final three (last year was cooking at high altitude) and that they just gave them killer ingredients, great help, and let them go. A major bonus was the quick ending; the live announcement last year (à la Trump) was ridiculous and awkward.

All in all, I have to eat some words and admit that Lisa brought her A-game—although my expectations were pretty low. She put up some good-looking dishes and kept the attitude to a minimum. Richard didn't wow me but didn't really disappoint me as much as he did himself, apparently. It's funny how all the gadgetry and science can't overcome a lack of simple seasoning. But Stephanie came out on top, and it seemed clear to me that when the judges were collectively bowled over by her lamb dish, she was top toque.

My favorite part of the show was watching her boss around Ripert, who I have a sneaky suspicion is a bit of an ass. Here's this short roundish Chicago girl hovering over one of the biggest names in the biz, and she's completely and comfortably in charge.

All in all, good season. Glad to see a woman on the pedestal. Still can't figure out why Ted Allen gets to be a judge.

PS: Did you hear that they're going to make a Top Chef for Teens? Get those kiddos chopping onions now . . .

Yesterday's happy hour was perfect patio weather, no? Sadly, I did not get to Laredo's in time to actually score a coveted outdoor seat. Truthfully, I was just happy to have a seat, a margarita, some guacamole, and an hour in which to forget about everything else.

And yet.

First of all, I am not a guacamole snob. I embrace the fresh green goodness in many forms. I just hate golden cows. They promised me their guac was "the best," that they made it tableside and that it was one of their most popular items and "really fresh." They describe it as Hand Hacked for good golly. Sign me up!

My cute little server came to the table balancing a tray laden with a salt and pepper shaker, a small bowl filled with diced tomato and onion, and a molcajete with slices of avocado. She proceeded to mash the avocados with the fork, dump in the tomato mix, and grind over a little S & P. That was it; that was the big production. It's not that I wanted flames jumping about or a small song to be sung or even a flurry of knives chopping up ingredients; it's just that it wasn't that much of a show.

Worse yet, and here is one of the four horsemen, the molcajete wasn't made of stone like it's supposed to be—it was a plastic food-service version. A plastic stone bowl for grinding. That's like driving a Prius with a Hemi; what's the point? Yada, yada, I know about supply cost and storage issues and breakage, and I'm sure the real stone bowls are ungodly heavy, but fake is fake.

And the guac just wasn't that great. There was no zip and zing of freshly squeezed lime, no trace of bright cilantro, no heat what-so-ever. I don't know if those elements were supposed to be part of the tomato mix, but they certainly didn't assert themselves. The guac basically just lay there in its sad plastic stone bowl.

I remember the first time I had tableside guacamole was at Bar Abilene, which I haven't visited since I left the neighborhood. Is it worth a quest? I do have a few happy hours open this month . . .

New York—The James Beard Foundation held its annual awards on Sunday, and just as last year, three Twin Cities chefs were nominated for Best Chef Midwest, and just as last year, three of five were not good enough odds as chef Adam Siegel of Milwaukee took home the honors over Restaurant Alma’s Alex Roberts, La Belle Vie’s Tim McKee, and 112 Eatery’s Isaac Becker (and Kansas City chef Colby Garrelts).

The theory behind splitting the massive Midwest region in two several years ago was to neutralize Chicago restaurants’ dominance of a region encompassing a huge number of states. Unfortunately, the current Midwest region, stretching from Milwaukee in the east to the Dakotas and Kansas in the west, leaves Minneapolis as the dominant restaurant community, garnering most of the annual nominations.

I would argue any of our guys deserved to win over Siegel, but because most national Beard judges are unfamiliar with flyover territory, most of the judges who vote in the category tend to be locals. Reasoning holds that Twin Cities judges are splitting their votes while Milwaukee and KC region judges are holding loyal to their hometown chefs, and there are relatively few other judges familiar enough with the far-flung cities to vote.

Actress Kim Cattrall and restaurateur Bobby Flay emceed the evening, chock a block with awkwardly written references to her fictional character’s libido and with cameos by foodie icons Tom Colicchio, Thomas Keller, Rick Bayless, Tom Douglas, Nancy Silverton, and others too numerous to mention. Chicago’s Grant Achatz was named Chef of the Year while Michel Richard’s Washington bistro Central Michel Richard garnered Best New Restaurant, and Manhattan icon Gramercy Tavern won Restaurant of the Year.

The event was followed by a crowded but sumptuous gourmet tasting of bite-size dishes prepared by current and previous Beard winners. It all took place at Lincoln Center’s Avery Fisher Hall on a sweltering 95 degree evening in midtown Manhattan.

On Friday night, the Foundation awarded its annual media awards, and no surprise, St. Paul’s Lynne Rosetto Kasper and producer Sally Swift took home honors for their weekly public radio show The Splendid Table, decisively better than anything in its class. Later this week, I’ll report back on some NYC food discoveries.

It's Friday, and the question on everyone's plate is: Where should we eat this weekend? There's a whole bunch of new and shiny restaurants to choose from.

I'm sure you've heard that Smalley's Caribbean Barbeque has opened in Stillwater. Their chicken wings come in mild, medium, hot, stupid, and really moronic.

Flame is the new diva at Rosedale Mall. I think it's probably leagues above One Potato Two.

Lola's Lakehouse has opened in Waconia in the old Nancy's Landing spot. I'm anxious to see the rehab; I remember brunching there with the fam after my high school graduation.

Mix New American Diner has opened in Chaska at 222 N. Chestnut St. (952-479-7448). The chef cut his chops at some big institutions, such as LEYE's Tucchi Benucch. Look for American classics with a modern twist.

On the other side of the universe, Joan Ida is back in front of the hot line at The Lake House in Forest Lake.

Kindee (719 S. 2nd St.) is open, serving Thai food to the market set across from Spoonriver.

Cafe Agri is open in the South Minneapolis spot that once housed My-T-Fine bakery. Its ambitious goal is serve farm-to-fork food.

Word is, a Northern Indian restaurant called Ghandi Mahal has opened next to Midori's on E. Lake and 27th.

Get out and eat!

Last night was the first part of the Top Chef finale. The four fresh-faced finalists arrived in Puerto Rico (I want to go! I want to go!) hugging but ready for battle. It was clear that they had all been busy during the hiatus from filming. Richard seemed focused and had obviously studied up on the ingredients he would be faced with. Stephanie had taken a culinary tour through Asia, smart girl. Antonia had opened her own restaurant, gulp. And Lisa had cut her hair.

I was glad the quick fire wasn't an immediate elimination like the past couple of years; I've always thought it was a shame to bring someone all the way to the location only to kick them out twenty minutes later. So Steph won and was given the advantage of picking everyone's kitchen assistants. When she picked Dale for herself, I thought it was a wise move.

Sadly, Dale left his brain on the plane and the pork belly on the counter for the night. But here's the thing: That crap happens all the time in a real kitchen. A couple of hours before an event, your cooler could break or the gas could go out or something catastrophic could happen that makes you have to punt. And punt Steph did, quite well I might add, with aplomb and grace.

Everyone got a big pig, and despite the fact that the butchering of it was supposed to be to the root of drama, it all went over well. In fact, the whole challenge was rather easygoing (outside of Dale's pork belly snafu), and the real drama didn't come until the end.

Richard and Steph were the top two, and Richard drove out victorious in a new car. (Don't you think the chefs who won autographed cookbooks were thinking "what gives?") So that means that Lisa and Antonia were in the bottom ranks. I have to say, Lisa must have had some deep reflection over the hiatus as she reconciled herself with her TV persona because her swearing was at a minimum. Antonia, honestly, looked tired, and her inner fire was a little weak.

I wasn't surprised, but I was sad to see Antonia pack her knives. I really thought she would be in the top three. Did she deserve to go? Dunno, didn't taste the peas, but I did think that they put too much importance on the plating issue. I agree that it was a mistake, but axe-worthy?

The best part of the whole show was the aftershot in the back room with the survivors. Richard and Steph are clearly in shock and saddened with Antonia's departure, and Lisa throws down with a snippy, spoiled-bratish "a congratulations would have been nice." Give me a break; she knows she doesn't deserve to be there and her self-loathing-turned-bravado is tiresome. And yet, for the finale next week, we finally have a villain. The b***h is back. 

Parasole Restaurant Holdings is moving its flagship steak house, Manny’s, from the second level of the Hyatt Regency to the new W Hotel this summer, W owner Ralph Burnet told me this morning. The deal is a stunner because it had been widely rumored that the W’s food service was going to be handled by Culinary Concepts, a partnership between chef Jean–Georges Vongerichten’s organization and Starwood Hotels, owners of the W brand. Vongerichten manages Chambers Kitchen at Burnet’s Chambers Hotel.

Burnet says he had been working with Cuisine Concepts on the W project, but a deal never came together, and a casual encounter between him and a Parasole lieutenant triggered the Manny’s gambit in mid-May. He says Parasole broached the idea.

Burnet says he has a verbal agreement with Parasole founder Phil Roberts. Manny’s will provide dinner (and possibly lunch) service as the W’s signature restaurant while a W Café, operating out of part of the Manny’s space and managed by Parasole, would serve breakfast. Parasole will also operate the twenty-seventh floor aerie bar, which is to be called Prohibition, and the hotel’s primary watering hole, the W Bar/Living Lounge.

The W has a tentative opening date of July 28, but that could slide to mid-August with construction delays.

Had a typically great meal at Lurcat over the weekend. Many days it’s number one on my list of favorite local restaurants. Chef Adam King and team are offering morel mushrooms right now, cooking them in a closed copper pot with butter, cipollini onions, and thyme. It’s a typically restrained Lurcat approach but exactly what morel lovers relish. If you are headed over there, don’t miss the pork belly sliders and the BBQ chicken sandwiches off the bar menu. Both are killer delicious.