Not since Briana J. Resa fried up a 90-second order of burger and onion rings in the fast-food rehash of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, Issac Gómez’s The Night Shift Before Christmas, has the Alley’s downstairs Neuhaus Theatre released such pungent aroma. In Night Shift, the smell of a grilled meat patty sizzling away was heavenly and, other than Resa’s tour-de-force performance in that one-woman show, was the only remarkable thing about that knockoff play.
Theresa Rebeck’s Seared (2016) is also no deeper than a cookie sheet, but it smells better.
How about salmon sauteed in butter and oil with shallots? Iron chef wanna-be Harry (Christopher Salazar in Brooklyn diva mode – On the Waterfront’s Terry meets Emeril) makes this dish at the top of Act II. Silent, except for the slicing, dicing, and chopping, he quickly cooks what’s supposed to be the restaurant’s new signature dish. Steam rises and the smell wafts onward and upward. It permeates the theater. We can’t smell the onion salsa mixed with pulverized anchovies, but, close up, it too must smell delicious.
Salazar handles his knife skills like a pro, apparently tutored by none other than Theodore Rex’s master chef Justine Yu, a James Beard Award winner whose restaurant was recently lauded with a Michelin Bib Gourmand. He uses the scraper, cleans his cutting board, has a waste bucket nearby for scraps, and dices his onion just like Julia Child. It’s fun to watch and fun to inhale. But then, I’m a sucker for cooking shows.
Rebeck’s play is a bit of a flash in the pan. It’s immensely enjoyable with its four actors at the top of their game, scurrying through Riw Rakkulchon’s detailed kitchen set, under the whiplash direction of Brandon Weinbrenner. Yet this souffle of a play doesn’t actually rise. It doesn’t fall either; that’s its secret ingredient. It’s light and airy without much thought in its head; but for a night out in the theater without pretense and preaching, is that really so bad? It comes out of the oven professionally, looks great, but the plating is meager and slightly underdone. It’s a crowd-pleaser, for sure, and already more performances have been added to the
run.
So who’s in the kitchen in this up-and-coming Brooklyn eatery? Harry, of course, an artist of the cooktop who’s made a name of sorts for his seared scallops. The neighborhood restaurant is packed, but verging on disaster because it’s too popular and much too small. There’s no way it can make a tidy profit for business partner Mike (Chris Hutchison, all blustery and ready to blow). The business model must change and without consulting Harry, Mike hires foodie “consultant” Emily (Elizabeth Bunch, all edgy efficiency and smooth as hollandaise in her wheedling) to spice things up. Patient waiter and general all hands-on-deck Rodney (Kory Laquess Pullam, subtle and tangy like a bernaise) does what he’s told and observes from the sidelines.
But Harry is tired of scallops. The recent crop is trifling, rubbery, without taste. So he refuses to make them anymore. Food is art to him not a business. Sure he likes money like the rest of them, but he’ll pretend for a while that he’s not interested in mammon, only gammon.
This sets off Mike, as Harry’s insufferable egoistic antics usually do, but Emily gracefully slides into view with temptations Harry can’t refuse such as a gorgeous Japanese knife (if Harry endorses its use). Less to his taste: a printed menu for the patrons instead of a chalkboard, and sidewalk seating that with added seats inside, doubles his workload. Naturally later on, Emily becomes her own tasting menu for Harry’s private dining. And then, voila, there’s the creation of another draw-in-the-crowds signature dish.
There are some neat reversals that Rebeck slyly serves – the one with Rodney is terrifically worth an extra tip – and someone at the end eats crow.
The Alley dishes up some good food with this one. Not exceptional by any means, but even if filled with empty calories it’s pleasing on the palette and delivers solid laughs. Who can’t feast on that? Order up!
Seared continues through March 9 at 7:30 p.m. Tuesdays through Thursdays; 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays; and 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays at Alley Theatre’s Neuhaus Stage, 615 Texas. For more information. call 713-220-5700 or visit alleytheatre.com. $61-$80.
This article appears in Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2025.
