S'mac NYC

Ethnic food is one thing, but when restaurants specialize down to the entree, the end result can go one of two ways, depending on the chosen food. Cuisine with a restricted scope can make for an irreversibly boring experience -- the blandness of a dish multiplies itself with only slight variations across the menu. Yet at their best, single entree restaurants will infuse the chosen food with savory details that only could be achieved through a narrow lens.

The overpriced Peanut Butter and Jelly & Co boasts no further variety than the name would suggest (aside from the occasional dollop of Fluff or Nutella), and the long lines and limited seating make for a merit less dining experience. What is cute and nostalgic in theory is rendered pathetically kitschy.

On the other side of the spectrum is the East Village eatery S'Mac, (345 E. 12th St.), short for Sarita's Macaroni and Cheese.

Macaroni and Cheese is literally the only thing on the menu here, in every way. The decor invokes gooey Cheddar, with yellow walls, orange macaroni-esque plastic chairs and tables, and lighting which tints everything slightly redder. Over the top it most certainly is, but Macaroni and Cheese is the comfort food to top all comfort foods, and those who step into S'Mac can have no qualms about succumbing to the soothing warmth of cheese soaked noodles. If you aren't completely prepared to overindulge, you could find the serving sizes inexcusable, the skillets more slimy than gooey, or the atmosphere frankly cheesy.

Upon my first visit to S'mac, I tried the Gruyere, in size "major munch" ($9.00; for some reason S'Mac tests the customer's devotion to comfort food by forcing us to order the embarrassingly named sizes Nosh, Major Munch, or Mongo) with bread crumbs on top. The skillets in which the Mac is served are deceptively deep. I couldn't finish my Major Munch and I'm not sure what use anyone could have for a Mongo, other than for sharing. The bread crumbs option is a must. The cheese can be a tad liquidy so the crust gives a needed crunch to every bite. I thoroughly enjoyed the amount of Gruyere that I could stomach. The dish comes with ample slab bacon mixed in, which adds an interestingly chewy dimension to the otherwise gooey globs.

I left S'Mac content. The flavors aren't delicate, but it takes a certain type of person to love Mac and Cheese. We don't associate daintiness with satisfaction. A week later I was craving more, and I returned to S'mac for a Nosh Four Cheese ($5.75), again with bread crumbs. This dish is comprised of Muenster, Gorgonzola, Sharp Cheddar, and American. The size was just right. Although I couldn't taste all the distinctly advertised cheeses, the overall effect was delicious. I found myself scraping the cheese off the bottom of the skillet. Also recommended are the Mozzarella and the Goat Cheese flavors.

S'mac is an entree-themed restaurant done right. Perhaps this is only because they picked the right entree-- one with ample nostalgia but plenty of potential for improvement, and something of a cult following. Next time I'm yearning for comfort food, I won't settle for less than S'Mac.