Batard Marks Another Win for NYC's Drew Nieporent

The youthfully gray-haired John Winterman, a self-proclaimed "maitre diva" who once plied his jacket and tie trade at Daniel, Charlie Trotter's, and other white linen factories, strolls over to an older gentleman at Batard in Tribeca and hands him a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon in a koozie. "That's what you get when you've arrived," Winterman later quips. It was like watching Manhattan tipping its hat back to Brooklyn, even as Brooklyn increasingly takes its inspiration from Manhattan.

And just as the stereotypically hipster beer isn't what one might expect at a prix-fixe-only spot, neither is an off-the-menu fried chicken. The name of the dish is technically schnitzel — pounded, breaded and fried meat — though half of the preparation is nearly the opposite: a rich and crispy poussin drumstick.

The other half of the schnitzel, the young bird's flattened breast, keeps things more conservative. The milk-fed meat recalls the soft texture of sweetbreads; the exterior boasts an audible crunch; and the flavor is pure butter and olive oil. Add a smear of ligonberries for sweetness, a dab of sea buckthorn puree for a bit of sourness, and wash it all down with a $25 glass of Marie Weiss Champagne.

Perfecting high/low. >>