You’re on a date, and it’s going well. Your date has good manners, they make the right amount of eye contact, and you could see yourself waking up next to them without instinctively looking for your shoes.
Then they give you an unabridged history of their love life. Which sucks, because it all started so well.
That’s what it’s like to have a meal at Yves.
When you walk in here, everything feels right. The little dining room looks like something you’d find in a hip Swedish resort town - it’s painted white, dimly lit, and the soundtrack is somewhere south of mainstream. (Think instrumental surf rock and old-school R&B.) This is somewhere you want to have dinner. Actually, it’s somewhere we want to have dinner. We’d eat here tonight. If the food was better.
We aren’t saying everything is bad. Mostly, it’s just confusing. It reminds us of puberty or America circa 1776 - a lot of great stuff is happening, but some things just aren’t cool.
Take the gnocchi. It has bacon, clams, and celery, and it gave us a Shark-Tank-worthy idea for a new men’s fragrance. But the sauce is kind of thin and it comes with stale crackers. Then there’s the octopus. It’s perfectly cooked, but it’s also served on a giant half-circle of squid-ink aioli that doesn’t really taste like anything. It looks great, sure, but we don’t like being served food that we aren’t going to eat. Even if it's just aioli. It’s confusing for us, emotionally.
The veal schnitzel, however, is excellent. It comes with a poached egg and a green sauce you’ll want to rub into your gums. It’s also one of the few dishes that tastes as good as it looks.
And that’s a real problem here. The food is photogenic, but some plates come with one or two things that seem like they shouldn't be there. Like they were made for a prop dish, and someone in the kitchen got confused.
That, and it’s pricey. Most entrees cost more than $30, and starters range from $15-$20. And sure, it’s not like you’re going to save money by going across the street to Locanda Verde, but at least you know what you're getting there.
That said, we really wanted to like Yves. We feel good here, and we thought maybe we had a future together. One filled with instrumental surf music and schnitzel, and wonderful new colognes based on pork and shellfish. Then we ate more, and things didn’t really work out. It still might be good for a drink at the bar (and maybe even lunch or brunch), but dinner won't live up to your first impression of this place.
Fantastic. If you don't break the egg and spread around the yolk, you need a life coach. We do not volunteer.
One of the great smells, and a not-bad dish. A little skimpy for the price, however, and there's better gnocchi around town. Ask for no crackers.
An excellent piece of octopus. But everything else on the plate can go.
Burrata in a puddle of “lobster jus.” We'd prefer just plain burrata.
A tagliatelle made out of beets. In other words, not a tagliatelle. If you're obsessed with beets, try it. If not, skip.
This is the only vegetarian entrée option, and it makes us glad we aren't vegetarians. We hear a violinist playing a sad song when we eat it.