By David Minsky
By Jen Mangham
By Bill Wisser
By Laine Doss
By Bill Wisser
By Dana De Greff
By Laine Doss
By Zachary Fagenson
Where were we -- South Beach?
Nope. We were in New York, incomparable home of -- to hear New Yorkers tell it -- the well-heeled gastronome. What makes it more ironic is that we were dining in the Thompson Hotel at Thom, which is partially owned by Jonathan Eismann, chef-proprietor of Pacific Time, one of my long-time favorite restaurants. You might think that I was asking for it, going all the way to SoHo just to sup at a SoBe knockoff. Of course I was going to receive questionable service. I should expect nothing less -- or more, for that matter.
35 NE 40th St.
Miami, FL 33137
Region: Midtown/Wynwood/Design District
433 Washington Ave.
Miami Beach, FL 33139
Region: South Beach
But I, naturally, beg to differ. For starters Pacific Time is noted for its excellent staff, routinely the best on the Beach. Eismann has been known to fire waiters who merely point the way instead of personally escorting a patron to the bathroom (not to mention those who have missed their shifts because they spent too much time in the drunk tank at the local police station). Given his rigid standards and the pool of out-of-work actors in New York, I was so positive we'd have an impeccable evening that I arranged to meet an extended group of friends there for dinner. And indeed, it was just bad luck that it was cooler-than-expected weather in the city, or my friend might have appreciated the accidental dousing. As it was, her jeans took about as long to dry out as a head cold.
But then Thom is not Pacific Time. Nor was it ever meant to be, Eismann tells me. "The idea was for this to be a bridge toward maybe opening a Pacific Time in New York. But [unlike Pacific Time], this isn't anyone's pet restaurant. The Indochine people came to me with this deal on the table, lease in hand. The management is hired, everything's farmed out. It was a business deal. I look at it as an investment." To that end, he recently installed executive chef Michael Batt in the kitchen, giving him room to create a menu that is much more New American bistro (think butter-poached Maine lobster with spring pea broth, one of the most savory lobster preparations I've had in some time) than it is Pan-Asian. Only a couple of Eismann's specialties -- lamb-mushroom dumplings, tuna tataki, and beef salad with satay flavors and black vinegar, among others -- are available. And you can only get them in the lounge upstairs, a VIP room that is apparently so exclusive I didn't even know about it until I returned to Miami.
When Eismann was offered his ten-percent share by the team who put the Thom concept together, he did originally intend to play a larger role, though not necessarily a culinary one. He was spending three to four days in New York every week. He and his wife took an apartment. He says, "We thought to establish roots, put Morgan [their daughter] in school there. But a lot of things changed after 9/11, particularly the travel back and forth." Not to mention his living conditions -- the Eismann domicile overlooked Ground Zero. "Miami life seems more and more endearing all of a sudden," he notes wryly. "I love living here."
Eismann isn't the only South Beach chef who feels, despite Big Apple excursions, intrinsically connected to the South Florida area. Dewey LoSasso, the first executive chef of the five-year-old Tuscan Steak in South Beach, left Miami to open a sibling Tuscan for China Grill Management in Midtown Manhattan about eighteen months ago. But he and his wife Dale, who was a general manager for both Chef Allen's and Mark's South Beach, never sold their Miami Shores house, simply because they intend to someday move back into the relaxing Miami lifestyle.
"New York is a twelve-month-a-year business, and New Yorkers have more choice about where they go to eat," LoSasso comments. But philosophically speaking, he doesn't see much difference between running a restaurant in Miami versus making one happen in New York. "Wherever you are, you have to work for it," he says. "Our experience in South Beach or New York is, if you do a good job, you'll be rewarded for it."
He did have to make an adjustment in his day-to-day operations, though. Whereas LoSasso used to pull up outside Tuscan Steak and throw his keys to a valet, he now has to commute from his home in Paramus, New Jersey, a journey that takes him anywhere from 45 to 90 minutes. Damn, might as well be an investment banker. As for Eismann, he was clocking more frequent-flyer miles than a flight attendant. "It just got ridiculous, especially with my kid back here," he shrugs.