<a target="_blank" href="https://www.henrysend.com/">Henry’s End</a>

72 Henry Street

Brooklyn, NY 11201

BY NEAL
MARTIN | APRIL 25, 2025

The Food:

New
Orleans turtle soup

Goose
liver mousse with pistachios and honey

Squab
potstickers with chilli garlic sauce 

Pappardelle
with Buffalo oxtail ragu 

Stuffed
quail with cornbread and sausage stuffing

Kangaroo
with gratin dauphinois and Burgundy jus

Elk
chops with mushroom bread pudding

The Wines:

1997 Nicolas
Joly Savennières Clos de la Coulée de Serrant – 90

1978 Burgess
Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley –&nbsp;89

1961 Giuseppe
Mascarello Barbaresco&nbsp;– 91

1980
L’Eglise-Clinet –&nbsp;NR

2005 Domaine
Georges Roumier Morey-Saint-Denis Clos de la Bussière 1er Cru – 93

2002 J.
Rochioli Pinot Noir West Block – 92

1999 d’Arenberg
Winery The Ironstone Pressings –&nbsp;92

1927 Pereira
d’Oliveira Bastardo Madeira –&nbsp;94

Neighbourhood
institution.
That phrase can be interpreted in two ways. On the one hand, it implies that over
time, a restaurant became part of the local fixture and fittings. Its heyday
might be long gone, yet there continues to be a steady stream of regulars that
covet familiarity, whose taste buds are indifferent towards quality. The
epitome is an Italian bistro near my parents’ home that has existed in the same
place, serving the same clichéd dishes and cheap Chianti from the local cash
and carry since time immemorial. The irony is that this bistro has outlived every
other restaurant within a 10-mile radius. 

On the
other hand, neighbourhood institution connotes a restaurant where high standards
and passionate, talented chefs with attention to detail have sustained it
through the years, a restaurant that stands as a beacon of quality. A
restaurant that becomes a constant in a turbulent world. It is irreplicable and
irreplaceable. Now, I never dined at Henry’s End when it opened in 1973 because
(a) I was two years old and (b) I lived in Leigh-on-Sea, not Brooklyn. Nevertheless,
invited by friends preceding this year’s Vinous Icons event in New York,
my tastebuds immediately confirmed that Henry’s End falls into the latter category
of neighbourhood institutions. In other words, it might have opened over half a
century ago, but standards remain high and people still love it. 

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1745514896448-mark+lahm_VT.JPG">Proprietor
Mark Lahm posing in front of the neon signage above the stairs.

The
name Henry’s End comes from the restaurant’s location up until 2019, when it
sat two blocks north of Henry Street, ergo, at the “end” of Henry. Bustling on
a Wednesday night, the restaurant brims with history, character and above all, delicious
food. “I have worked here since 1980, starting as a
dishwasher, then server, manager, cook and chef,” Co-owner Mark Lahm told me. “In 1984, I enrolled in the Culinary Institute of America, and when I
graduated in 1986, I purchased the restaurant from the previous owners. Our
annual ‘Game Festival’ is now in its 39th year and runs from approximately
October to April. It is done in three phases, two months for each phase, with
the selections changing for each.”

To be
honest, I wasn’t sure that I was in the mood for their Wild Game Festival, however,
the quality of the first dishes immediately changed my mind and I was happy to
go all-out carnivore. “We have used many
different farms over the years,” Lahm explains. “Currently, our major suppliers
are The Broken Arrow Ranch, Fossil Farms, d'Artagnan and Cervena.” In this case, I don’t need to
analyse every dish, because they are all fairly straightforward. They highlight
well-sourced ingredients and a kitchen that knows how to cook them perfectly.
What I really appreciate is that despite the bias towards meat, no dish could
be described as heavy—no excessive richness or pointless sauces. The United
States is a country renowned for portions that could feed a small country, but
here the portions are modestly sized, just right for a multi-course meal. 

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1745514928192-turtle+soup_VT.JPG">The New Orleans turtle soup is quite charmingly served in a coffee mug. I must
point out the New Orleans turtle soup. It is the first time I’ve eaten this
dish, here made with 15 spices. It has real depth of flavour and just the right
amount of spicy kick. A small cupful is just enough.

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1745514979444-goose+liver_VT.jpg">The goose liver mousse is topped with pistachios and honey and served with charred bread. The
goose liver mousse is sweet and creamy in texture and needs the accompanying charred
bread to offset the richness. I have to resist eating the entire portion and
mopping my plate. Next up, the pappardelle with Buffalo oxtail ragu is well
cooked but perhaps could benefit from a little more of the nicely seasoned oxtails.

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1745515080429-quail_VT.JPG">The stuffed quail was my favourite course of the evening. The
stuffed quail with cornbread and sausage stuffing is my highlight. Delicious
and tender, the cornbread lends texture and sweetness, and the stuffing adds
strong herbal flavours that marry perfectly with the quail. 

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1745515143184-kangaroo_VT.JPG">Kangaroo made for an unusual but exquisite main course.The
kangaroo was imported from Australia (I did ask whether they are reared in the
US—apparently not) and served with gratin dauphinois and Burgundy jus. This is tender
and moist, and the jus has a light acidity that helps the dish maintain
balance. I prefer this to the elk chops, which are slightly tough, especially
following the kangaroo. 

The
wine list… I mean, you don’t see ‘em like that anymore. Many of the choice
items come from the proprietor, who owns a vast personal cellar and negotiates
favourable rates from private sources. The list is particularly strong in
mature vintages from California, Bordeaux and Italy, especially esoteric
vintages that you don’t typically see. This is a list for the wine-lover, not the
label-hunter, and to cap it all off, most are sold at prices that would be
three or four times as much elsewhere, if listed at all.

We
actually begin with a very old sherry. You would expect sherry at the end of
the meal, but its dagger-like acidity cleanses the palate. Apologies, but I did
not write down the exact name, though it was extremely old. 

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1745515252763-burgess_VT.JPG"><img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1745515272078-rochioli_VT.jpg">The 1997
Savennières Clos de la Coulée de Serrant from Nicolas Joly is a
burnished golden hue. The nose is a little smudged, leaning more towards the
richer side of Savennières with dried honey, candlewax and lanolin. The palate
has fine weight and just a very slight touch of oxidation, though it complements
this wine. With just a touch of desiccated orange peel and some resinous notes
towards the end, this is definitely one of the better mature bottles I have
encountered from a wine that, in my experience, has been hit and miss. The 1978
Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon from Burgess Cellars is a delight.
Fully mature on the nose like many Cabernets from this era, it is a
doppelgänger for a Médoc, with sous-bois and light tobacco scents that
tinge vestiges of black fruit. The palate does not deliver the complexity of
the ’77 Diamond Creek Volcanic Hill imbibed the previous evening, though this
does retain balance and finesse. It’s perhaps a little simple or rather…unassuming
towards the finish, as if it has done its job well and now it’s time to leave.
Not one of those earth-shattering old Californians, but decent. The 2002
West Block Pinot Noir from J. Rochioli initially seems a bit garish,
perhaps due to its juxtaposition against the ’78 Burgess. However, it just
needs 30 minutes to settle. It delivers gorgeous red plum, hoisin, camphor and
maraschino cherries that are beautifully defined and pure, generous but not
overpowering, distinct from Burgundy or anywhere else. The palate has wonderful
balance. It’s full-bodied, yet beneath what after two decades bizarrely feels
like puppy fat, one finds a core of fine tannins. Very harmonious, satin-textured
and persistent through the finish, this is a sensual and opulent Pinot Noir
that reeks of class. <img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1745515297035-roumier+2005_VT.jpg">The 2005
Morey-Saint-Denis Clos de la Bussière 1er Cru from Domaine Georges Roumier
proves that this vintage produced some really classy wines whose tannins are
finally softening. It boasts exquisite purity on the nose, blossoming with white-tipped
strawberry, raspberry, crushed rose petals and wet limestone, polished and
sophisticated. The palate is framed by filigree tannins that, if tasted blind,
divert you away from this typically structured vintage. There is gentle but
insistent grip towards a finish that is imbued with the grip you expect from a
Morey rather than a Chambolle. This is beginning to take flight. We skip a 1980
L’Eglise-Clinet as the bottle is oxidised. Shame, as it is one of the very
few vintages that I’ve never tasted, and I doubt there is one at the château. 

<img alt="" src="https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.vinous.com/uploads%2F1745515322527-barbaresco_VT.jpg">The 1961
Barbaresco from Giuseppe Mascarello is a rare old bird. It has a
pale colour, to the point that you would think it’s a Rosé. The nose has a
disarming citric quality, unerringly fresh, though I could never describe it as
complex. The palate is similar to the aromatics: very fresh and precise, arguably
missing grip and body that must have slipped away with time (indeed, this
bottle shed an extraordinary amount of sediment). This is more a curiosity now,
but a drinkable curiosity. The 1999 Ironstone Pressings from d’Arenberg
is a timely reminder of how well these Aussie wines have aged. This GSM exudes vigour
and purity on the nose, showing black plum mixed with subtle cough candy and lavender.
It is very controlled with ample refinement, perhaps “contained” by the passing
26 years. The palate remains fresh and vital, very well balanced with saturated,
smooth tannins, polished and graceful towards the finish. A gem hiding in plain
sight! 

Later
that evening, we are treated to a clutch of fortified wines. I will save a
couple for Cellar Favourites and mention one. The 1927 Bastardo from
Pereira d’Oliveira is nowadays quite difficult to track down, though I have
encountered it two or three times in the past. It feels a little more austere
than before, with potent, resinous, furniture polish scents. But then the fruit
comes out of its slumber, revealing desiccated orange peel, tangerine and light
smoky notes. Great vigour. The palate is medium-bodied with quite firm grip,
tangy and vibrant with that grilled walnut/hazelnut note on the finish. It does
not have the same “braggadocio” as previous bottles, but at a century-old, it
continues to ooze class. 

Henry’s
End is a wonderful bistro, a neighbourhood institution in the best sense of the
word. Both the food and wine will tempt me to return whenever I find myself
back in the Big Apple. Whether it will outlive that Italian spot near my
parents’ house is another question entirely, but I can promise that unless you
do have a craving for rancid, cheap Chianti, head for the bounty of amazing
wines at Henry’s End. 

&nbsp;© 2025, Vinous. No portion of this article may be copied, shared or redistributed without prior consent from Vinous. Doing so is not only a violation of our copyright but also threatens the survival of independent wine criticism.

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