After enough time cooking in this city, a chef can get a reputation. I don’t mean that kind of reputation (though that is certainly possible too), I mean this more in terms of a culinary signature. Dave Chang is synonymous with his Greenmarket-fueled world of high-class ramen and beyond (and at this point his name pretty much spells success), Dan Barber is the chef-locavore-crusader, Alex Raij is known for her brilliant Basque cookery, you get the idea. Irving Mill’s talented young new chef, Ryan Skeen (formerly of 5 Ninth and Café Boulud in New York, and Elisabeth Daniel in San Francisco), made his name on a hamburger served when he was the chef at Resto. It was a superhero of a patty made from a mix of house-ground beef cheek, hanger steak, and fatback, served with onion, pickle, mayo, and Timberdoodle cheese, all on a squishy white bun (for the record, I never liked the bun). His double-cooked pork belly and deviled eggs served on fried pork toast, added to his rap as “Pig’s Worst Enemy.”

After leaving Resto and helping his pal Nick Morgenstern conceive of the (fantastic) menu for The General Greene, this golden boy of the hamburger landed a gig as a bottom of the ninth reliever at Irving Mill where he was brought in to turn the game around after the previous chef, John Schaefer, had failed to impress critics. The consensus was that his food that seemed too precious, too dull, too shy to make enough of a statement to lure customers in for more.
Based on a number of recent meals, it seems that the owners of Irving Mill have found their savior, their Jonathan Papelbon, if you will. Skeen has brought the team back from the brink, revamping the entire menu so that it offers more approachable food that suits this urban farmhouse setting and a neighborhood in need of a place to grab a burger, a bowl of pasta, or a proper three-course dinner. Indeed, Skeen’s menu offers something for every craving—a bite at the bar (saucy, messy, heavenly mounds of pulled pork nestled into potato buns, $6), a hangover brunch (eggs benedict served on a candied bacon brioche with frisee salad, $14, a ham and egg biscuit sandwich with red eye gravy, $10), or dinner with the parents (hamachi with chorizo and grapefruit, a lamb cassoulet with poached leg, roasted loin, belly and Coco Beans, $26).

Under Skeen, the food is not only well suited to the rustic wood-wrapped room, but his cooking also has a point of view and some real personality. This menu is about as far from shy as Oprah is from her goal weight. (God bless her, but she’s far, people.) It’s boisterous and brazen, and a hell of a lot of fun to eat. And as you’ll learn at any given meal you may have at Irving Mill, Skeen does a lot more than just a good hamburger, though he does that well, in a similar style to the one at Resto—fat but compact, on a relatively squishy bun (though not as Wonder Bread-like as the one I detested there), accessorized with onion, pickles, and tomato, with a bowl of salty wedge-cut fries.

Aside from that burger, he also does a great hot dog—a house made boudin blanc served on a parker house hot dog roll with a tangle of sweet chili onions, nuggets of crispy bacon and a swipe of hot mustard ($7). He’s also got a way with sausages—I’d recommend the house-made rabbit sausage with grain mustard and grilled bread ($8). And then there are the ribs. I speak of his succulent and spicy salt and pepper pork Ribs ($8) that fall from the bone and were gobbled up by Jamie, Susie and Adrienne without much discussion. His crowning achievement may be his house made charcuterie plate (he breaks down whole animals to make all of his sausages, pates and terrines)—a butcher block platter topped with mini boudin blanc, mini boudin noir, crispy pig's feet, terrine tete de cochon, fried pork belly, glazed pork shoulder, pork ribs, pickled cabbage, with fried potatoes and creme fraiche, violet mustard and whole grain mustard ($22/38). If you’re in need of some comfort after a day at the lay-off trenches, a cold pint (or two) at the bar or tavern room, and a platter of charcuterie will do you right.

Such an ample bar-food styled menu does a lot for the front tavern area which is often nicely filled with men and women (young and not so young) sharing some of the aforementioned snacks and a few rounds of cocktails or beers—there’s a fine list of eight on tap that includes local brews like Brooklyn Pilsner and far away suds like Spaten Lager poured into striking wide mouthed pint glasses.

While the food is for the most part very good, the restaurant does seem to be struggling with two issues: service and kitchen timing. We sat with empty wine glasses for too long before having to flag down a bus boy who was kind enough to locate our waiter (he started off strong but pulled a disappearing act after our apps were dropped). The wait times between courses were too long both at brunch (over thirty minutes, but note that I was with a large party) and at dinner (about twenty minutes, Friday night dinner service).
At dinner, while we waited and waited after our spinach salad with roasted tomatoes, shitake mushrooms and Pecorino ($11, fine, but nothing special) was cleared for our entrees, Adrienne amused us with a story of a recent subway commute to work. She was on a packed number 4 train that was moments from Grand Central when a frantic woman started pushing her way through the crowds toward the train’s red pulley emergency brake. She was about to pull it when a fellow straphanger noticed, stopped her, and asked her what in God’s name she thought she was doing. “I was standing there and a man showed me his penis!” she cried in a French accent, pointing to the culprit in the middle of the car. “Well then don’t look lady!” he replied, matter of factly (duh). “We gotta get to work.” His bravery kept the train moving. Soon he’ll have his own Facebook page. You gotta love our town.

Just then, our entrees arrived: a loup de mer, a chicken, a plate of angolotti, and a bowl of (now cold) tagliatelle Bolognese. We returned the frigid pasta it to the kitchen and were rewarded about ten minutes later with a brand new bowl, much hotter and this time quite worthy of praise. The cold temperature didn’t do that Bolognese ($18) justice, because when hot, it was luxuriously rich and boldly seasoned so it was almost tangy. The remains of the sauce went particularly well scooped up onto a crusty heel of country bread that I happily discovered I had not finished on my bread plate.

The grilled whole loup de mer ($50) served on a bed of nutty quinoa was, well, odd. Some bites were overly salted and quite fishy, but others were delightfully sweet and moist. How odd. Well, I uniformly loved the agnolotti—rectangular pasta envelopes plumped up with kale, chili, and Robiola cheese ($18). I’d never had anything quite like it. Terrific. But I was rather disappointed that Skeen had changed his roasted chicken preparation, turning it from a gorgeous roasted bird for two, with mac and cheese and sautéed collard greens ($55 for two), which I devoured with Craig’s help on a previous visit, to a pale flavorless roulade with truffles ($30) that was way too precious for the setting and the menu. It seemed completely out of place, like it made a wrong turn at somewhere and was scared and lost.

One of my favorite dishes is also no longer on the menu but hopefully will return (along with the roast chicken): a Columbia River sturgeon with roasted baby beets, sorrel and horseradish ($26). This is a fish that I don’t feel has not gotten enough play on menus and Skeen shows us that it should. His is a thick but silken filet, dressed up like a Russian in winter with a horseradish sauce and beets. All you need is a shot of vodka and a fur hat and you’re all set for a night in Moscow.

I should also mention that Irving Mill is not a place to go with any of your vegetarian or vegan friends. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, other than plain greens, for them to eat. Even sides are rendered off limits by glorious amounts of meat. A saucy macaroni and cheese is topped not with breadcrumbs but with (what else) pork rinds for texture ($8), and cubes of roasted butternut squash are adorned with cashews and bacon ($8). Leave all non-carnivores safely at home.

Well, that is unless they might like to make a dinner of dessert, which is a tempting option because they were all excellent. We loved the banana parfait with roasted banana ice cream, coconut macaroon, vanilla custard and chocolate ($9) and the warm sugared apple fritters with vanilla ice cream ($9), not to mention the warm pecan tart brown butter ice cream and Wild Turkey sauce ($9).
While I imagine many people will still rush to Irving Mill for the burger that made Ryan Skeen a foodie’s household name, there’s much more here to enjoy, from the salt and pepper pork ribs to the pastas, roast chicken (please bring it back), and more. It’s tough to be a reliever. And he’s done a marvelous job and is to be praised for tackling this project and turning it around, making a graceful save for the team.

Irving Mill is located at 116 East 16th Street, between Irving and Union Square West, 212-254-1600.

Andrea Strong