The Anything But Ordinary Standard Fare Makes a Bow in Saratoga

Only a fool would miss the vegan, gluten-free lasagna—or the meatloaf and mashed potatoes

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Saratoga Springs, N.Y. has more restaurants per capita than major gourmand hubs like San Francisco and Chicago. It is, in many ways, a miniature pocket of urbane cool in Upstate New York’s overwhelmingly rural, sometimes painfully authentic, gee-whiz farmscape.

The town of 28,000+ swells to around three times its usual size during Summer’s horse- racing season, but attracts visitors from near and far year-round for its 10 historic museums, naturally carbonated mineral spas, quirky arts district on Beekman Street, 130+ farm-to-table restaurants, 15 golf courses and easy proximity to the 6-million acre Adirondack Park, and the wineries, farms and charms of the Hudson Valley.

But we’re not here to obsess about my adopted hometown … we’re here to talk food.

As a former Brooklynite who moved to Saratoga Springs a decade+ ago because I wanted to have children, and was too broke and ambivalent about the relative merits of the hectic / cramped city life vs. sprawling, cheap(ish), chic(ish) semi-suburbia with a side of the Philadelphia Orchestra + amazing lectures available at Skidmore + killer concert lineup at SPAC in Saratoga to maintain my roots in the BK … the thing I miss most about New York City is the easy availability of killer esoteric, delicious meals presented with panache and quiet confidence.

You can keep the smog and closet-sized apartments, the constant noise and constant thrum of the subway (or is that my anxiety?) but man do I miss the crusty and decadent Banh Mi, the panoply of perfectly made dumplings representing a rainbow of cuisines and nations, the hand-pulled Chinese noodle soups, the perfectly seared foie gras (sorry, ducks, I love you but), the soulful Cassoulets and so much more I’m not hip to because I’ve been absent for so long.

And yet, it feels like that’s finally changing. In Saratoga, the access to fantastic, organic farms, and the recent influx of culinary talent from across the globe has injected my dining out-diet with the upgrade it so sorely needed.

I recently previewed a new restaurant, Standard Fare, from a tried-and-true-but-relatively-new-to Saratoga Springs duo, Zac Denham and Clark Gale. It was what I—and so many people I know here in Saratoga, but also well beyond—are craving at this exact moment in time.

The pair, who opened the deliriously regarded Champagne bar Bocage in 2022 after emigrating here from New York City, with decades of experience opening everything from arcade bars to Michelin-starred restaurants, boom-boom nightclubs and more, didn’t aim to create a restaurant that would appeal to a populace starved for elegant comfort. They just wanted to open a place that spoke to their own desires and appetites.

“Everyone is always trying to reinvent the wheel,” Gale told me, as I gobbled up their obscenely decadent Connecticut rolls, served warm, with generous chunks of lobster doused in melted butter, on a butter-grilled brioche bun. “We thought, let’s just make the wheel so much better. Let’s make it more inclusive and welcoming. Let’s do the classics, except so much better.”

Excellence, but vague familiarity. Something to eagerly consume for everyone from your vegan friend who is normally forced to eat an array of subpar sides to your child, who gravitates toward deep-fried nuggets of whatever, and large hunks of flavored meat.

Eating the Zeitgeist

You know when a brilliant fashion designer or innovative movie director produces something that just lands like acid in 1969 on the tongue of the Zeitgeist? Standard Fare is that, in food form.

Whether you vote blue or red, left or right, correct or wrong, I think we can all agree that we are living through uncertain, acid-reflux inducing economic, political and social turmoil.

I don’t want to eat someone’s re-invented wheel right now. I don’t want to be intellectually or psychologically challenged by the thing on my plate.

When I got out for dinner, I want to feel like I walked into my house, except with much better decor, far superior attitudes all around, comfier seats, better flatware and linens. I want food that is nostalgic, comforting, inviting, precise, seasonal—and welcomes everyone to the table.

I won’t tell you what to order, but I will tell you that only a fool would miss the vegan and gluten free zucchini “lasagna” (an insanely delicious concoction involving heirloom tomatoes, shaved zucchini slices and perfectly ricotta-like fake ricotta, topped with roasted sundried tomatoes), old-school meatloaf (a blend of chuck, brisket and turkey for the ultimate umami bomb, with tenderness) topped with homemade tomato relish, seared haricot verts and sour cream mashed skin-on potatoes, or the decadent 7 million (a slight exaggeration) layer coconut cake, served in a resounding, shivering plate-hogging slice.

You’ll go in feeling very 2025. You’ll leave in a new, happier, tastier era. I can’t wait to go again and try all the things I missed, including the double-cut Berkshire pork chops and the “big dumb milkshakes.”

Standard Fare is at 21 Phila Street. It opens officially on August 15.

Now, about that Banh Mi…