Hundred Acres Is Miles Better, the Second Time Around

When Marc Meyer and Vicki Freeman took over the old SoHo favorite Provence, they kept the name but imbued the space with a dark louche-ness ill-suited to the sunny Provençal cuisine. The food, in turn, wasn’t bright enough to penetrate the sleaze and rescue the restaurant. Now, though, they’ve reworked and renamed it Hundred Acres, and have refreshed the menu with the source-conscious, “farm-forward” style of cooking with which they’ve had great success at Cookshop.The transformation is a delightful blast of fresh air. A sultry Southern accent marks the restaurant’s menu, which features nothing more exotic than backyard esoterica such as lovage and purslane; the prices have been hospitably dialed down as well. Salads rarely offer much for a food writer to sink his descriptive teeth into, but one here, which brings together dandelion leaves, tiny and bright strawberries, and toasted sunflower seeds, is a simple stroke of genius ($9). The three ingredients stake out a broad swath of the flavor spectrum, from the off-bitter keenness of the leaves to the earthy richness of the seeds to the full-bodied, sweet delicacy of the ripe berries. An even simpler starter — essentially a bowl of mushrooms — is equally effective. The trumpet mushrooms ($10), already wild with flavor, are browned on the grill, where they absorb a magnificent smokiness. They’re served in a bath of buttery, herb-strewn oil, with a square of mellow, tangy manouri cheese for rich contrast.Not every dish has that just-foraged simplicity. A trio of small open-faced sandwiches ($9) is elegantly composed: one layered with thin-sliced, tender tongue; one heaped with minty, bursting-fresh fava beans; one a sophisticated pairing of pale smoked-fish spread and matchsticks of crunchy radish.The Hundred Acres hamburger ($18) has the distinctively different taste of pastured beef: tangier, fuller-flavored, lighter, and less unctuous than the usual corn-fed stuff, with a bit of the appealing subtlety of lamb. It’s a shame to cache such good meat under a sheet of sharp cheddar, as the kitchen does. Slathering on the supplied — and vigorous — onion mayonnaise is definitely overkill; save that for the fries, which are very fine and taste of actual potato, not just of fried-ness. A rabbit loin, meaty and flavorful in its own right ($18), comes swaddled in smoky bacon for additional punch, and accompanied by mustardy German-style potato salad.Bacon gives its inimitable, savor-amplifying effect also to a dense, fine-ground meatloaf served in an individual casserole ($16); there’s a strip laid on top and more ground into the loaf, which is deeply scented with rosemary and other fresh herbs. A crouton hidden underneath soaks up grease and flavors. On the opposite end of the taste spectrum is a lamb dish ($25) that seems to depend so heavily on the pure freshness of its ingredients for its effect that seasoning is neglected. Thin pink slices of roasted lamb come dotted with soft fava beans, pickled onions, and wax beans, but the whole is not particularly harmonious — it tastes like an aimless meander through a pasture.The meal concludes on a summery note with a blueberry pie ($7) that stands way out from its peers: The intense, dark purple wild berries require less sugar than usual, and a hint of lemony harmony shines from within its tender lattice crust. To drink, the restaurant retains Provence’s French-inflected wine cellar, but a tall refresher ($12) of muddled cucumber, gin, and miscellaneous herbs — the bartender cited hyssop — seems more popular, at least on hot evenings.Hundred Acres is impressive, the kind of place where “seasonal” isn’t just a buzzword, but where you actually look forward to returning season after season to see what new ideas are blossoming. I’ll be heading back to see what they do in the fall — if not sooner.Hundred Acres (38 Macdougal St., between Prince and Houston streets, 212-475-7500).

Hundred Acres Is Miles Better, the Second Time Around

Hundred Acres Is Miles Better, the Second Time Around

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