My neighborhood has more than its fair share of empty storefronts these days—or at least that’s how it feels when almost all of them were bars and restaurants near and dear to my taste buds. Senor Swanky’s on Columbus Avenue is the latest to go under. Hopefully the site won’t join the ranks of its longtime unleased neighbors. On Amsterdam, the green and red shell pagoda of the late lamented Monsoon has been under renovation long enough to have reopened five times over, if anyone were interested. A few blocks down, the sports bar Time Out hasn’t tapped a keg since the Mets made their last run for the pennant. And on Broadway, the stadium-sized lot that for almost a decade was home to Ruby Foo’s will probably remain a Dim Sum ghost town until TJ Maxx decides to take their mallification of Manhattan a little further downtown. (The realtor has yet to put up a “Will Divide” sign. The space could hold three fighter jets, easily.)

My first-instinct, mistress-of-the-bloody-obvious explanation for all the wide open spaces: “It’s the economy, stupid!” Ruby Foo’s did hightail it out of the neighborhood when its long-term sweetheart lease ran out; and Senor Swanky’s mammoth two-story venue probably seemed a lot wiser an investment when times were flush. But it’s hard not to think there’s some sort of Feng Shui voodoo going on with the smaller places like Monsoon and Time Out, given the number of similarly-sized spots that have become revolving doors for adventurous restaurateurs. The second one newbie joint goes dark, another moves in. So maybe it’s the economy and more …

The Sunburnt Calf is the latest restaurant to do the moving-in part of this tango at 226 West 79th Street. (For Upper West Siders following along, the space was most recently home to the Indian restaurant with the funky-colored awning. In the umpteen years I’ve lived in the hood, at least three other restaurants have tried to make a go of it here.) With any luck, The Sunburnt Calf will be the one that sticks. It’s a better fit. The team behind it found a way to make a tough, sometimes uninviting space work.

The venue was once the bottom floor of a townhouse. To say it doesn’t have much curb appeal is putting it mildly. The front door is set back front the sidewalk with only a small porthole of window allowing the tiniest glimpse inside. And the room that tiniest glimpse reveals is very long and very narrow. There’s next to nothing to suggest the existence of a space large enough for sit-down eating on the premises. So, the first order of business for any tenant is to find a way to get diners inside. The folks running The Sunburnt Calf did that and more.

They had a wildly successful head start. The group owns The Sunburnt Cow and Bondi Road, and their expertise shows. Long before The Sunburnt Calf opened its doors, the new calf on the block made a name for herself around the neighborhood. One day it was a guy in orange cow suit handing out menus … The next, an orange (“sunburnt,” get it?) calf was staring out diorama-style from a window seat display. Then the Moo Mobile, a bright orange welcome wagon with horns, started patrolling the streets.

 Finally, there was a four-hour, free food, free booze launch party that spread the word like a foodies’ game of telephone. The line snaked around the corner.

(See photos and the video here: http://www.thesunburntcow.com/calfbook/)

The design shows the same attention to detail. Wooden benches out front now close the distance between the sidewalk and the front door—and offer a nice resting place for smokers to do their thing without blocking the entrance for everyone else. The front door is almost always left open, so curious passers-by can check things out from a polite distance instead of having to boldly march in cold. What they see inside now is a long bar with warm orange outback-at-sunset lighting, and if it isn’t always packed—though it often is—the Aussie music is always inviting.

Obviously, I like my ambiance as much as the next gal, but none of this would matter if the food and drink didn’t deliver. Happily, neither disappoints. The bar has plenty to keep beer-lovers in the drink, with many out-of-the-ordinary brews on tap and in bottles, and, unsurprisingly, more than their fair share of Australian labels. There are as many cocktail specials as there are days in the week (okay, probably more), and the wine selection is more extensive than I would expect at a restaurant this size. The list changes often enough that it makes sense to ask for a taste before ordering. (Much as I love Australian wines, they are not all created equal.)

The food is first-rate and flavorful, and even better, a great bang for the buck. They offer a three-course meal for $18 as a summer special. It’s a great way to sample. The portions are plenty big enough to share a taste or two without having to go hungry. The dishes are all Australian, which in this case means a lot of a surf and turf punctuated by exotic fruits and tangy sauces. (Having never been Down Under, I admit to taking the adorable all-Aussie wait staff at their word.) My fried calamari appetizer had a light cornmeal crust and none of the rubbery texture that too-often makes me regret ordering. The burgers are to drool for, and the fries are the perfect crispy-on-the-outside, fluffy-on-the-inside mix. I haven’t made my way through the entire menu yet, but so far my favorite dish is a skirt steak drenched but not drowned in a deliciously spicy marinade.

My only complaint is minor: the dining room goes dark and mood lighty fairly early.

While this makes the breathtaking panorama that stretches across three walls look gorgeous—and draws ample attention to the skylight above, on starry nights especially—it does pose a bit of a problem when it comes down to the physical act of eating. My skirt steak was so tender I could’ve cut it with a butter knife. Had I been able to see it. As it was, cutting of any kind was a little hit-or-miss.

For now, The Sunburnt Calf is going through some deliciously juicy growing pains. It’s not quite sure whether it’s an upscale Aussie bar with kickass food or a reasonably-priced restaurant with great cocktails. Maybe it’s both. In any case, it seems perfectly content to be The Sunburnt Cow’s newest baby. It doesn’t have its own website; but you can friend it on Facebook. But all the pieces are in place. It’s just a matter of time before it starts to feel at home.

The Sunburnt Calf
226 West 79th Street
New York, NY 10024

Main Line: 646-823-9255
Delivery: 646-823-9251

Hours:
Mon – Thurs: 4:00 pm – 12:00 am
Fri:4:00 pm – 4:00 am
Sat – Sun: 11:00 am – 4:00 am

Price: $
Website: http://www.thesunburntcow.com/index.php