NYCReview
photo credit: Noah Devereaux
Upland
Included In
Happiness is a cold pillow on a hot summer night. It’s the sound of exactly three seagulls on a slightly foggy morning, a book that’s only occasionally skimmable, or a leisurely meal in a big green booth at Upland. Happiness is also a little overrated, and so is Upland.
Don’t get us wrong, we like Upland. Shortly after it opened in 2014, we gave it a 9.1 - and we’ve had plenty of good meals there since. But some places age better than others, and a “California-inspired” spot that shares a couple of chromosomes with CPK won’t stay prom queen for long. Now that the glow has worn off and the food has taken a slight dip, Upland is less of a must-visit and more of a generically classy option for when you’re planning an important group dinner and want to please as many people as humanly possible.
Whether you’re dining with someone who only eats variations of bread and cheese or a friend who considers little gem salad a comfort food, pretty much everyone will be happy here. Entire sections of the menu are devoted to pizza and pasta, and Upland’s versions of these things are sort of like backups on an Olympic water polo team. They aren’t the absolute best in their class, but they get the job done. And if you need a main, there’s just about every type of protein a second-tier friend or parent-in-law could hope for. Just know that the portions are surprisingly large, and the entrees are less reliable than the pizzas, pastas, and smaller plates - so you might find yourself slogging through an oversized serving of fatty lamb shoulder with a confusing amount of bibb lettuce on the side.
Those larger plates usually hover around a B-, but the space itself is a solid A. The dining room has high ceilings, hardwood floors, and the kind of blue-and-white checked tablecloths that make you think of sunshine, fresh-cut grass, and uncoordinated children running through sprinklers. It has a wholesome, Norman-Rockwell feel, and all the way in the back, you’ll find a shelf of preserved lemons in big glass jars. They’re illuminated by soft yellow lighting, and while you observe this display from your plush green booth, you might get the sense that you’re dining inside of Martha Stewart’s doomsday bunker.
Upland is a comforting place, and the constant crowds make it seem trendy, relevant, and exactly like the kind of spot you’d want to talk about in an elevator full of coworkers. And this helps make up for the occasionally underwhelming food. You walk inside, see a packed bar area, catch a whiff of rosemary drifting out of the open kitchen in the back, then see a bunch of servers in gingham pacing around a dining room that could be the world’s nicest Williams Sonoma. It’s an unimaginative version of heaven - but it’s heaven nonetheless, and you’ll be happy here.
Food Rundown
Potato Bread
Five Lettuce Caesar
Margherita Pizza
photo credit: Henry Hargreaves