“Table Talk” With Jeremy Wayne: Gordito, Rye

“A bold new take on tapas,” is how owner Raffaele Ronca describes the cuisine at Gordito, his new Latin fusion restaurant in a plum position along the even-numbered side of tony Purchase Street in Rye.  

Oh dear. All too often, “bold takes” in the food department mean abandoning the tried and tested and fixing what ain’t broke. Bold takes are risky in my experience and, I must admit, they fill this old traditionalist with fear, (which is why I’ve long claimed restaurant writers should receive combat pay.) Then again, when bold really does means original, thrilling, even uplifting, which just occasionally it does – and here I’m thinking of the pintxo (skewered tapas) bars of Bilbao or San Sebastián in northern Spain, where innovation and originality are always the name of the game – I’m the first to say: Bring it on. 

So, what would Gordito’s “bold takes” lead to? Basque beauties or inedible aberrations? 

Pan con tomato, the classic snack of toast rubbed with garlic, brushed with olive oil and spread with squished tomato certainly wasn’t inedible. Indeed, it was rather good. But replacing crisp, griddled bread, which the Spanish use, with soft ciabatta was hardly an upgrade. A generous portion of six potato croquettes that would usually be filled with ham or some kind or creamy Béchamel sauce, shaped into a ball or bullet and fried to a crisp, were here filled with minced shrimp and mashed potato, with a touch of cayenne for some heat. Somewhat shapeless, they easily fell apart. Again, perfectly edible, even pleasurable when dipped in the punchy aioli, but I wouldn’t say a “bold” improvement on the classic croquette of yore. 

Tortilla Española, a Spanish omelet that’s a delicious bite in anyone’s book, is traditionally made simply with onions, potato, eggs (of course) and olive oil. Some people, not me, add soft peppers, but none, to the best of my knowledge adds cheese, which is why this tortilla tasted like a quiche. Not bad, just not a Spanish tortilla. Cheese reared its head again in – wait for this – a paella quatro quesos (four cheeses), a profanity at which I had to draw the line. Reader, I didn’t try it. I couldn’t. 

And then, just like that, the good news started tumbling in. A great drum of guacamole, spry with cilantro, dancing on the taste buds. And gambas al ajillo, which the Andalusians call Pil-Pil – baby shrimp sautéed with garlic and paprika, served in an earthenware dish – was so good, it had me right back in the moment, sitting in a chiringuito (Spanish beach bar) by the water on Spain’s Costa del Sol. And I loved the fish taco – real crispness at last – with its jalapeño lime mayo, and the main course carne asado –  seared, still pink steak with chimichurri sauce. And yet another good dish – skewered scallops with shrimp and sautéed corn. Not bold, but textbook. And near perfect. 

I spied but didn’t try the tempting Negroni Ahumada, made with Mezcal Joven, a bold cocktail indeed. Instead, I sipped the elegant, dry, house Cava and enjoyed browsing the – boldish – wine list. Among my recommendations would be the not-so-bold, pale, straw-colored Albariño from Castro de Balar and, for a bit of fun, the definitely bold Basque-country Tzakolí, with its distinctive sulphuriness. In the reds, it was good to a see a favorite from Priorat, the colorfully-named Mas de Habanero Hodgkinson, with its typical powerful concentration and smooth finish. (Bold to a degree, that last one would work a treat with carne asado.) 

In terms of design, Gordito was pleasing, too, a deep room with wood beams, walls tiled to half-height with rather beautiful turquoise-colored subway tiles, and a long, 12-seat, inviting marble-top bar. The jury is still out on the red filament-bulb wall sconces but I liked the massive overheads, spreading like outsized medieval crowns.  

With its open kitchen at the rear, the suspended rows of copper pots and pans providing an added attraction, and the gentle sounds of merengue and Tropipop adding an up-tempo vibe, it was easy to overlook the less successful dishes – although I’m still getting over the cheese paella concept. 

The bottom line is that Gordito is hard not to love, especially if you manage to snag one of the two sidewalk tables to enjoy a mini “Splatino” feast – if not an especially bold one – in the sunshine or under a moonlit Rye sky. 

For more, visit gorditokitchen.com.