e a t e r y R O W

THE BACK ROOM

2012-01-27T19:25:00.002-05:00

THE BACK ROOM

102 Norfolk Street

New York, NY 10002

(212) 228-5098

So it goes like this. Operagirl and I were out and about, having a night on the town, when I suggested walking over to The Back Room for a night-cap. I like my hidden speakeasies as we all know, and what could be more hidden than a place with literally no sign, where the entrance is under the sidewalk and down a dark alley? And yet despite all of these otherwise fantastical things, The Back Room is simply awful.

The Back Room has just about every single thing going for it. High tin ceilings and crystal chandeliers, top shelf liquor and velvet sofas. But it also goes over the top on kitsch, indeed it does so to a damning degree. I want so much to like a place like this. I want to love it. But the music is super loud, it gets super crowded, and the drinks are... well the drinks stink. Where The Back Room excels is in its physical space. There's a large bar area, nude 19th century paintings, sofas in the rear, and a dimly lit, Victorian atmosphere. But it ruins all this with its club music and crowds and the not-so-subtle feeling that half of Manhattan already knows it exists (actually 3/4 of Manhattan). And of course, the drinks have room for improvement.

If you've already arrived and all of the sofas are taken, fear not. I'm sure that if you stand around for an hour, something will open up. Who knows, maybe one of the bachelorette parties that are there will ask you to take photos with them, as happened to me. "We want to be seen with a cute guy!" Flattering, if hollow. When your drinks arrive, they'll be in 1920s speakeasy form: a teacup or a beer bottle wrapped in a paper bag. The teacup, despite being half the size of a normal drink glass, I can forgive, but the paper bag makes me feel like I just bought of forty of Old English at a Spanish Harlem bodega. And with the beer choices including Miller and Bud Light, I'm not far off.

If, by looking at the two drinks above, you think "that looks like weak green tea and Hawaiian Punch" then you'd be right. Hawaiian punch with vodka is about as close to what we were given (for $12 a cup) as you could get at home by spiking Junior's lunch kit. To add insult to injury, apparently some of the people who go here are bitches. "That chick just hip-checked me to get to the bar!" Operagirl said before adding "...if I weren't sober..." I can't envision coming back unless invited to a party, but something tells me that I'd second guess my agreeing to show up.

If The Back Room was a real restaurant where the seating up that small set of stairs was where meals were served, where great drinks were available at the bar, and where they enforced the low-end of the maximum occupancy rules, then it could be, in my humblest of opinions, one of the best places in the city. Instead, it's just annoying.

KATSUNO

2012-01-17T02:24:00.002-05:00

KATSUNO

103-01 Metropolitan Avenue

Forest Hills, NY 11375

(718) 575-4033

It's so very rare that my home nabe of Forest Hills gets props for its dining scene that once I saw that Katsuno, on Metropolitan Avenue, was awarded New York City's Best New Japanese Restaurant by Time Out Magazine, I knew I had to go.... And a year and a half later, I finally did. A year and a half lost, I must say, because Katsuno was indeed very good.

When I went, on a blisteringly cold Sunday night, it was... not crowded. And Katsuno is small. Maybe twelve tables. The interior is bright and clean and jazz plays over the room. The only thing about Katsuno that feels cheap (because with some appetizers in the teens, the price isn't) are those paper Sapporo/Asahi ads you see on the tables of every ten-cent sushi bar.

Pike met me on the other side of one of those Asahi ads and, over piping hot cups of fresh green tea, we looked over the menu, debating what to order. Most Japanese restaurants are basically sushi bars that will occasionally deep fry some cauliflower or shrimp for you. That isn't the case here. There is sushi, to be sure, but Katsuno is more of a restaurant. Sliced steaks and big bowls of noodle soup are the name of the game and I for one think it's nice to be able to get something other than a California roll every now and then.

As a starter, I ordered the Octopus with Cucumber Vinaigrette and a vegetarian Plum and Pellira Roll. The octopus was light almost to the point of floating off the plate and out the door. The only thing holding it on the plate was the cucumber. Pike and I both liked it, but it might be too soft for people who are used to their food fighting you for dominance of your tongue. The plum roll was not great. It was at first sweet, but with a bitter aftertaste. I wanted different, which I got, but ended up wishing I got something more tried and true, like eel. I also had a bowl of Katsuno's thick Miso Soup. Normally, one orders miso soup and it's pretty much a bowl of water with some scallions floating timidly within. Not so much here. It's no stew, but Katsuno doesn't skimp on the miso. Pike ordered the Grilled Lightly Salted Chicken, which was far and away the best appetizer of them all. It was ultra-tender with a hint of char. Pike felt that there was more salt than he would have preferred, but I differed, thinking it was just fine.

When it's all of ten degrees out it makes sense to get soup, so Pike's dinner was a large bowl of Thinly Sliced Duck Over Udon in Warm Soup. The broth was sweet, the noodles were thick and the duck had nary an ounce of fat. We liked it, and I'm pretty sure that you will also. My entree was the Grilled Miso Marinated Beef, served with an assortment of roast winter vegetables. I was not asked how I wanted the beef cooked and it came medium rare (the way it should). The miso marinade lent a salty crust-like texture to the outer part of the meat which I've never had before and didn't dislike. My only complaint was that it had been left to cool too long before it was served. Still, I liked it a lot.

Our bill came to $82 including tax and tip. Katsuno is closed on Monday.

BEST/WORST 2011

2012-01-10T22:28:00.000-05:00

BEST/WORST 2011

The good, the bad, and the ugly of 2011.

Last year, my best/worst was dominated by the outer boroughs. It taught us all - but specifically me - that if you want great food, but insisted on sticking to Manhattan, then you were a lazy bum undeserving of such fine caloric intake. As I look back on this past year, I note that I was in a comfort food mood. I continued to travel to wherever the subway would take me, but I was clearly subconsciously looking for food that I could wrap myself up in like an old blanket surrounded by Tonka trucks and Lincoln Logs.

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THE BEST

Best Restaurant

HILL COUNTRY CHICKEN

There are few foods that embody comfort food to the degree that fried chicken does, and Hill Country Chicken, near Madison Square Park, makes just about the best chicken, and couples it with the best pie, that you can get. I had a lot of trouble deciding between Hill Country and Salt & Fat. Both were great, fun places to eat. Salt & Fat, a small plates restaurant that never met a pork dish it didn't like, was close. But it boiled down to the small fact that I can feel my mouth watering right now at the thought of Hill Country's chicken and pie in a way that is pretty much unmatched by any other food product known to man.

Best Burger

JG MELON

If there's one thing I eat far too many of, it's probably burgers. They're my diet's Achilles heel. They're quick, inexpensive, and hard to really be terrible. On that note, it's rare that you find a standout. But JG Melon managed to pull it off with their no-frills, ye olden tyme style ground beef in a bun on a plate with nuthin'. What's that? You want veggies on your burger? Here, have a pickle. And yet, easily one of the best burgers I can say I've had, period.

Best Bar
SPRITZENHAUS

I'm no connoisseur, but I love beer and, in that vein, the beer halls and gardens that serve such a copious volume of the stuff. With NYC seeing a beer hall/garden renaissance, it's only natural that one of these newbies rise above the others. Spritzenhaus not only has a ginormous beer list, it has damn good food and more space than you'll find anywhere outside of Astoria.

Best Cocktail Bar
RANDOLPH AT BROOME

It's hard to imagine a better combination than a classy coffee bar that transitions into a a classy cocktail bar. Then add the ability to hog a booth for hours doing New York Times crossword puzzles and reading back issues of the New Yorker and you have a caffeine and alcohol infused coupling not seen since biblical days.

Best Sandwich
MELT SHOP and
RED HOOK LOBSTER POUND

There's no way to compare the two most fantabulous between-the-bread creations I've had this year so I'm giving them a tie. Neither of them are original, but both of them are perfect. Literally, perfect. Melt Shop's Classic Grilled Cheese With Bacon and Tomato is so good I can't describe it without getting X-rated. Meanwhile, Red Hook Lobster Pound's Maine Style Lobster Roll is something I can see grown sober men fighting each other bloody over. Do not, and I can't emphasize this enough, do not allow 2012 to go by without eating both of these creations at least twice.

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THE WORST

Okay. First there was no worst. I did a pretty good job of self policing this year. I managed to avoid being suckered into going, by hype, hyperbole or ignorance, to too many places that stunk. Hype, hyperbole and ignorance did lead a few disappointments though.

Biggest Letdown
VINEGAR HILL HOUSE

Vinegar Hill House was supposed to be so great and was instead just not. While the atmosphere and service were fine, the food was well below par. Operagirl and I trekked all the way out through Dumbo to get here and wound up walking back the the F train with a sulk in our stride. To this day, she scrunches her nose at its mention. "$200 for that meal?" with incredulity.

Where's The Beef?
DBGB

You'd think that a place with as much schmance as DBGB wouldn't serve a cold, overcooked beef slab coupled with shit service, but you'd be wrong. 'Nuff said.

Nostalgia gone amok
PEANUT BUTTER & CO.

PBnC led me astray with some mediocre-as-can-be peanut butter sandwiches. I wanted so badly to love this place. I mean, hell, I love peanut butter. Who doesn't? But they seemed to have gone the route of crazy-shit-we'll-stick-together-between-bread and then hoped that everyone would get lost in the nostalgia of the days of yore when you did that as a kid. Unfortunately, as an adult, it didn't translate so good.

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NOTABLE MENTION

Dearly Departed

M. WELLS

M. Wells would have been the best restaurant of the year if it was still open. It was great. Simply great. I never went there and ate anything less than amazing. It sucks that they couldn't afford the new rent. Word to the wise: read the lease. They're expected to return in a new location, but then they won't be in that cool antique diner space. It created a mood that was almost priceless. Plus, it was right on top of the subway. Couldn't be more convenient if it wanted to be. And so I lament their (temporary?) passing.

LEMON HILL

2011-12-29T11:47:00.000-05:00

LEMON HILL

747 North 25th Street

Philadelphia, PA 19130

(215) 232-2299

From the cocktail minds behind the Franklin Mortgage and Investment Company and the kitchen minds behind Supper, comes Lemon Hill, a gastropub/cocktail haunt that both looks and feels like it belongs in Brooklyn alongside Fort Defiance instead of a not-accessible-by-subway part of Philadelphia. But hell, Bro drove, so I was able to have an extra cocktail.

Walking in, it's dark, lit by the orange glow of old bulbs, very much in the vein of the now-ultra-trendy turn of the (20th) century style. Dark woods, exposed brick, tin ceilings, New Orleans jazz, lotsa whiskey. No signage of any kind. These are the hallmarks of Lemon Hill. Bro and I showed up opening night to see what all the pre-opening night hype was about. We expected a long wait, so we showed up around 6pm, way earlier than I'd otherwise have any interest in having dinner, but it was a good idea. By 8 it was packed and the line was out the door.

The courses at Lemon Hill are small, though I won't say that it's a small plates restaurant. They have a "snack" menu, and starter menu and an entree menu. I recommend that you pick one of each. Naturally, you'd do well to have a cocktail too. I mean, when your bartender comes right out of Franklin Mortgage, why wouldn't you? Bro whet his whistle with a Rye Buck, a ginger-infused sweet whiskey drink. Very good. Stop arguing and get it. My choice was the Clover Club, a gin and egg white cocktail that I ordered out of nostalgia to the bar near home. But it was a wee bit thin. As a starter, we split the Dirty Rice Fritters, piping-hot deep fried rice balls with a cold crab? cream sauce. We both enjoyed it, but it was a bit dry and I'd have preferred an actual crab cake.

As an appetizer Bro ordered the Smoked Tomato Soup, with blue cheese popovers which was quite good. And quite smokey. My appetizer was the Pastrami Fried Chicken Wings, a salty breaded variant of the bar food fave with thousand island dressing and pickles that my buddy Dogz would drool over. While it was certainly a different, more haute version of that which emerged so famously from Buffalo, it was small and not so filling. I'd get two. After that, the entrees showed up. My dinny din din was the Hearth Baked Cavatappi, a creamy mac-and-cheese type dish with gruyere cheese, brussels sprouts and mushrooms with a dusting of breadcrumbs. I liked it a lot. Very good stuff. Bro ordered the Shrimp N Grits: grits, shrimp, okra and a whole prawn garnish (that Bro ate anyway). While I don't much care for okra, I couldn't find any faults here. If you were looking for a comfort food menu with flair, I think you've found it.

Dessert time came around, but Lemon Hill didn't have any coffee or tea on hand, so I skipped it and instead ordered another drink, the Blues Explosion, a grapefruit and whiskey combo. While I got myself nice and happy, Bro ordered a slice of pie. Specifically, he got a slice of Apple Cranberry Pie. I stole a bite and it was very good. Hopefully, one day, they'll have some coffee available.

Cocktails average $12 each. Expect to spend about another $30 on top of that for food, per person.

10 ARTS LOUNGE

2011-12-27T21:13:00.001-05:00

10 ARTS BISTRO & LOUNGE

The Ritz-Carlton

10 Avenue of the Arts

Philadelphia, PA 19102

(215) 523-8273

This rainy December afternoon Bro and I decided to make 10 Arts our rest stop while shopping in Philadelphia. Located inside of the Ritz-Carlton lobby, in what used to be an old bank, the 10 Arts is like drinking in a Roman temple. Perhaps to Bacchus? Anyway, it embodies everything that hotel bars are supposed to embody. It's fancy and expensive and the drinks come second.

Eric Ripert, who was on an ex-girlfriend's I'd-cheat-on-you-with-this-guy-list (right behind Anthony Bourdain) is the brain behind the menu. Bro and I ordered some bites (the French Fries with a rosemary spice dusting and some Mini Burgers in a tangy mayo) and they were very good. As for our liquor, well, I ordered a Negroni and a Sazerac, both classic drinks, both made wrong but drinkable. Bro ordered a Godfather.

Of course, the point of a place like 10 Arts is entirely to feel important and wealthy. Doormen open the door for you and warmly say hello as though you live there. It's marble and granite from floor to ceiling and that ceiling is fifty feet high. The seats are plush and the liquor is top-shelf. Eric Ripert made the bar food. Sure, there's a guy drinking Miller Lite watching a muted ESPN on a flat screen next to you, and some businessmen from Cincinnati doing shots of tequila, but you barely notice them. You're too busy relaxing away from the grind of the city outside. You're too busy trying not to smile at the cute tourist girls. You're too busy letting go of the day. You're too busy not being busy, eating a mini-burger.

Expect to shell out $14 per cocktail and $5 per mini-burger.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

JG MELON

2011-12-21T00:59:00.002-05:00

JG MELON

1291 Third Avenue

New York, NY 10021

(212) 650-1310

New York is a pizza city. It's a bagel city. It's a hot dog city. But, by and large, it's becoming a hamburger city. JG Melon, on the Upper East Side, has long been ahead of this particular curve. They've been on the best-of lists for burgers for as long as I can remember so, when Bro was in town and we found ourselves in the Lenox Hill area, we decided to go check it out.

JG Melon reeks of old New York. It's dark inside but not because it's trendy (they were a gastropub long before the word existed). It's because the lights are 25 watts to keep the electrical bills down. It's tight. Tables are practically on top of each other. It's loud and even the little old ladies are raising their voices. The waitresses are so busy that they barely look at you when you're ordering and only grunt at you when you tell them what you want. If you grew up in a small town where things move a little more slowly, then you might mistake this as rude. But it's not. We're just busier here in New York. Having to literally tug on a waitress' shirt to get her to see you is part of the charm. Cash only, no free refills on soda, and a meat-centric menu of old-school bar food. It's like going back in time.

Anyway, as I said, I came for a burger. And so that's what I got. The Cheeseburger, served with pickles and red onion and a square of Kraft American on top. Nuthin' else. Nothing else is even offered. But hell, it doesn't need it. It was everything they said. When you just want a perfectly made patty on a toasted bun, without forty different sauces that just end up hiding the taste of the meat, now you know where to go. I also ordered a side of Cottage Fried Potatoes, JG Melon's version of french fries. They were okay, but too thin. I would have preferred big honkin' steak fries. Bro ordered the Grilled Breast of Chicken Sandwich. It's exactly like what it sounds like. A butterflied chicken breast on a hero roll with lettuce, tomato, onion, and pickle. There's a choice of salsa or barbecue sauce which comes in a cup on the side. Bro went with the salsa. I'd have gone with barbecue. Either way, it's an all around yawn-inducing dish. This sandwich is one that cries out for one of those forty sauces I mentioned. It couldn't have less taste if it tried. On the other hand, if you want a traditional sandwich, it doesn't get more traditional than this.

Everything you see in that picture up there, plus soda, tax, and tip came to $40. Get the burgers. You won't be sorry.

THE GREEN TABLE

2011-12-05T14:33:00.000-05:00

THE GREEN TABLE

Chelsea Market

75 Ninth Avenue

New York, NY 10011

(212) 741-6623

Upscale food malls are de regueur in Manhattan lately as Eataly and the Limelight Marketplace can attest. Chelsea Market beat them to it though. L'Arte del Gelato is here, along with Amy's Bread, Fat Witch Bakery, and a host of other restaurants and specialty food shops. The Green Table is the restaurant wing of The Cleaver Company, a catering business which wholly embraces the mantra of the organic, small-farm, locavore lifestyle. Everything here is either organic or local or both. Guilt free food for reasons finally having nothing to do with being on a fad diet.

The inside it's small and cozy and warm. It's dimly lit but not to the point of being romantic. I've heard Green Table called a wine bar (actually, it says so on the business card) and it certainly has that atmosphere, but it's not one. It is similar to the kinds of places I'd expect to find in Brooklyn.

If you read this blog at all regularly, you know that, outside of cocktails, my favorite kind of restaurant are upscale casual new-Americans like Quaint in Queens and Fort Defiance in Brooklyn. So while the atmosphere here was spot on and the service was great, I can't lie and say that I was blown away by what we got on the plate.

The menu is a seasonal one and we ordered off of the current "Autumn" menu. Although it may feel like spring out there, it's almost winter so I expect that this menu won't last much longer.

While looking at the menu, Speeds and I shared a small bowl of Olives, which were curiously served piping hot. I certainly wasn't expecting to get a mouthful of searing hot olive oil, but I there it was. I think I can safely say that I prefer olives at a nice room-temperature temperature.

I started the meal with the Market Soup, which is a sort of trendier way of saying the soup of the day. On this particular day the soup was creamy parsnip. I finished the bowl feeling far more healthy than when I started it, which is a nice feeling to have. But the soup itself was disappointingly tame. It just didn't have, to use a technical term, much oomph. I would have added some salt or some pepper if there had been any to add at the table, but as there was not, I made due (I don't usually ask for things that aren't provided). Speeds ordered the small-sized Harvest Salad, which was actually rather large. She loved the dressing and raved about the walnuts, but was let down by the sliced apple, complaining that they were completely tasteless. "It's like I'm eating a raw potato," she told me.

As an entree, Speeds got the Gnocchi, served with chanterelles, sage, butter and an assortment of "autumn vegetables" (potatoes and the like). She liked it and ate as much of it as she could, but it was a heavy dish. My opinion, having stolen a few bites, was that it wasn't more than just okay. I found the plate overall dry and bland. I'm was very pleased that I ordered the Organic Chicken Breast, a roasted, skin-on chicken breast with local greens and thyme au jus on a bed of lightly toasted spaetzle. Though the chef went a little overboard on the spaetzle, the chicken had tons of flavor and was as moist as anyone could hope for. I highly recommend this dish.

So the chicken and the salad (save the apple) was great, Speeds and I had differing opinions on the gnocchi, the soup was squarely in the middle and the olives... well, I think you should just skip those altogether.

The Green Table is far from prohibitively expensive. Our meals totaled $37 each after tax and tip.

PEANUT BUTTER & CO.

2011-11-28T14:33:00.001-05:00

PEANUT BUTTER & CO.

240 Sullivan Street

New York, NY 10012

(212) 617-3995

There have been a spate of restaurants opening in recent years that focus on a single dish served in a variety of ways. Meatball Shop is a perfect example of this, and so too Peanut Butter & Co. in the West Village. Peanut butter sandwiches naturally make up the majority of their menu. There are other items for sure, like salad, but ordering one of those seems to defeat the whole point.

So, the other day, a buddy of mine, Pike, was reading the New York Magazine food blog Grub Street, and came across an article from the past summer listing the best 101 sandwiches in New York City. Peanut Butter & Co. was in the list, cheap ,and was right next to the subway. Plus, one of the top 101 sandwiches in a city of a billion sandwiches? How could we not go? Long Story short, Grub Street was wrong.

The staff was very friendly, it's absolutely a place that kids will love, the food came quickly, we got a table right away, you can't beat the nostalgia value, and while they're not giving anything away, it's not terribly pricey either. It's a comfortable place to sit and enjoy what amounts to jazzed up comfort food. But the bottom line is that we were pretty let unimpressed. I think that, deep down, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is already so close to perfection that improving upon it is a thankless task (I say this despite the fact that there are at least a dozen other blogs and food critics who get paid who disagree with me and have been thanking these guys for two years). There are a few, additions to be sure, that are good, like adding cream cheese, but you can do that at home any time you want with virtually no effort. So it makes sense to order something that would be time consuming. But Pike and I just felt that they don't work very well.

Pike ordered the Grub Street fave, The Elvis. Peanut butter, bacon, banana and honey on toast. Was it decent? Yeah. Was it worthy of being in NYMag's top 100 list? No. My choice was The Heat Is On. Peanut butter, cold grilled chicken, and pineapple marmalade on white bread. The chicken was so heavily spiced that I could barely taste anything except it. I like things hot, but I also have this thing about flavor, and there simply wasn't any here.

Now, before you go thinking I'm all negative, we did not order any desserts, all of which looked pretty good. So maybe I'll come back for one of them. But the sandwiches were damn heavy and there was no way we could fit anything else in. In an ideal world, I'd also return and try one of the many other sandwiches that we obviously couldn't get to. But this time, I won't be quite as giddy as a kid in a peanut butter store.

Speaking of which, Peanut Butter & Co. also sells their brand of peanut butter.

Expect to pay somewhere in the vicinity of $8 for your sandwich, plus tax.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

BLUEPRINT

2011-11-16T13:24:00.001-05:00

BLUEPRINT

196 Fifth Avenue

Brooklyn, NY 11217

(718) 622-6644

Cocktail-centric gastropubs have become a force to be reckoned with in Brooklyn. Blueprint, one of the latest to emerge in the borough borrows heavily from the formula. Dark woods, good drinks, rich grubs. So it's not original by any stretch, but it is good. Indeed, it does just about everything right. Though I'd lose the gangsta rap soundtrack, which almost seems to be played in irony, the vibe is spot-on comfortable. The staff was super nice, the food was good, the beer was fantastic and the well liquor is top shelf.

Seth is planning on planting his flag in Brooklyn, as any good follower of this blog is well aware. And after bouncing from a walk-up in Prospect Heights to another in Sunset Park, we decided to split meet up, grab some dinner and get our shit-face on here in the Slope. Okay, so I may have mentioned that Blueprint is much like Rye is much like Char No. 4 is much like Fort Defiance. But I liked it. A lot."Come on," Seth said after I commented about this trend. "You know that if they opened up in your neighborhood, you'd stick a cot in the corner and move right on in." It's true. I would.

Half of the menu a Blueprint is meats and cheese, like a wine bar would have. The other half is a kinda-sorta small plates menu. Some are truly small plates which I will term an "appetizer". The larger plates I will give the random description of "entree". Seth didn't bother with the "appetizer" but I couldn't help myself. I ordered the Baby Octopus, a salad of cold potatoes and salsa verde with little whole grilled baby octopi. Fantastic. I don't care if you don't think you'd like octopus, you'd like this. Everything came at once, so while I was having a good ol' time with my app, Seth was enjoying his Blueprint Rabbit Pot Pie. Pot pie is an underrated food group. My dad makes the world's best pot pie and he stole his recipe from a Betty Crocker cookbook from 1965. While this didn't live up to the Dad Standard set my a corporate giant during the McCarthy era, it was still pretty good. Rabbit is more tender than your average meat (largely due to the muscle tissue being continuously massaged/petted by second graders on field trips) and it's also much sweeter (from those same field trip kisses that the rabbits get so many of). As a result, you're left with a meat that reminiscent of the dark meat of a chicken that's been glazed in maple syrup. If this sounds appetizing, I suggest you order some rabbit. My only complaint was that the crust was one of those annoying puff pastry crusts that looks good in photos but tastes like bread-flavored air. It added almost nothing except a soggy copy-paper texture after a few bites. My dinner was the Grass-Fed Beef Bourguignon served with a side of au gratin potatoes. Blueprint prides itself on using locally grown vegetables and locally raised meat. Their website even lists the farms that they order from. I happen to think that organic food is a scam perpetrated on the dumb by the crafty, but I am very much in favor of locally-obtained non-factory-made food. If I want that mass market stuff, I'll eat at Cracker Barrel. But I digress. The beef was great. Super tender, super sweet, super why didn't they give me four times as much? And maybe it's because I've cut so much starch from my diet that you could throw a potato in manure and I'd still love it, but damn was that au gratin good!

But who knows? Maybe I was drunk. See, by this point, we were already on the tail end of our second round. The big reason someone goes to a gastropub is the pub. And the big reason I picked this particular gastropub was the cocktail menu. To be honest, Seth didn't much like his drinks. His first round was The Kickstarter, an espresso-based cocktail with rum, turbinado and a lemon twist. It was a bitter concoction that he probably should have, but certainly didn't see coming. As a result, he found it unpalatable. I kind of liked it, though perhaps for much later in the evening rather than as round one. Or perhaps as a brunch drink. See, my first round was The London Bootleg. Gin Aperol, lemon, tonic and grapefruit bitters, and believe me, this could give the mimosa a run for its money if it were served at noon on Sunday. Round two Seth checked out the Kentucky Waltz. Bourbon, ceylon tea, mint and maple syrup. Effectively, it's a sophisticated mint julip, but he felt that they went overboard on the mint. My round two was a classic. I had a Dark & Stormy. Rum, ginger beer and lime. It's hard to go wrong with a dark and stormy and I surely didn't. For round three, we nursed a couple of microbrews before heading out and debating politics on the F train.

Four cocktails, two beers, a small plate and two large plates, plus tax and tip totaled $130. There's also a small rear patio area that is probably quite charming when it's warm out. Or when there are outdoor heaters.

PAINKILLER

2011-11-07T23:55:00.003-05:00

PAINKILLER

49 Essex Street

New York, NY 10002

(212) 777-8454

Usually, you crave warm weather cocktails (mai-tais, diaquiris, pina coladas, etc.) in the summer, or maybe when you're on vacation someplace where the summer never goes away, like the Caribbean. But sometimes, you want the illusion of summer. The illusion of a vacation. Lina and I decided to go see The Rum Diaries, a movie about a guy in the 1960s drinking booze like it was water and breathing cigarette smoke like it was the fresh country air, all in the Caribbean. Painkiller, a tiki bar with a classic tropical cocktail menu, seemed appropriate. And, in hindsight, it was far, far better than the movie, which was pretty awful.

The cocktails at Painkiller hearken to that pre and post-WWII era when Hawaiian shirts weren't just for pensioners on a golf course. The interior is wrapped in bamboo like a Tahitian hut and the walls are covered in tiki masks (and inner-city graffiti?). The soundtrack is all either oldies or the kind of reggae white people like (Bob Marley, Chaka Demus, etc.). The first time I tried to go here was a year ago and it was like trying to squeeze into a sardine can, but this time, it was calm. We got a table right away and it never really crowded up. Clearly, winter's the time to go.

I got to Painkiller slightly ahead of Lina so I nursed a Missionary's Downfall in a small booth. Rum, pineapple juice, lime juice, mint, honey, peach, and topped off with a garnish so thick you need a machete just to get your straw in. The drink was so physically tall that I needed to take it off the table and stick it in my lap just to drink it. It was effectively a mojito with pineapple juice. By the time Lina arrived, I was left with a big glass filled with what had become green ice. While I thought about my next cocktail, Lina ordered a Dying Bastard. Painkiller has a few cocktails that they consider signatures of the establishment, each with a wacky history described on the menu. It also has a few pages with a huge range of daiquiris, punches, frozen drinks, fizzes, and "strong" drinks (they'll only give you one per sitting) that have names, but no ingredient list that I can regurgitate for you. The Dying Bastard was a fizz that was very ginger heavy. I ended up with the 1934 Zombie Punch, the drink you see below served in Charlie Chan's head. This is Painkiller's signature strong drink. Three different rums, lime juice, grapefruit juice, grenadine, falernum, and absinthe. And damn was it strong. I didn't notice it at first, but then, about a half hour later, I suddenly realized I had gotten loud and thought I was way funnier than I normally do. It was probably a good thing I stopped there. I hate looking back and realizing that I was "that guy" on the subway. Okay okay. It just about knocked me on my ass.

Drinks here average about $14 each except for the higher octane ones, which will run you $16.

BAKED BY MELISSA

2011-10-31T13:14:00.000-04:00

BAKED BY MELISSA

2325 Broadway

New York, NY 10024

(212) 842-0220

"How," thought Melissa, one lazy Sunday, "can I tap into NYC's already saturated cupcake scene? What can I do that hasn't been done?" Inspiration hit her like a sugar rush. "Bite size!"

Yes, cute little baby cupcakes. You just want to eat them right up. Yes you do. Yes you do.

There are about a half dozen Baked By Melissas in Manhattan. I went with Emma to the one near her on the Upper West Side. Emma likes cute little things. She has a cute little studio and a cute little puppy, works with cute little children, wears cute little dresses and, when I first met her, drove a cute little Honda Civic del Sol. It was only natural that she'd make a bee-line to a bakery churning out cute little cupcakes.

The cupcakes are an inch and a half wide and a half inch deep. So when I say bite size, I'm not just implying small. They're the exact opposite of the ones that are sold at crumbs which can feed a family of four. Baked By Melissa sells them in boxes of up to 100. We ordered a box of six. The standard vanilla-vanilla cupcake is made pretty as the Tie-Dye, a rainbow cupcake with frosting that tastes like any other cupcake would. The Peanut Butter and Jelly is literally a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It tastes just like what you'd make for your kid before the run off to camp. But I can get that at home before I go to camp. So... Emma's favorite was the Cookies and Cream, which was the best we tried. A chocolate cupcake with an Oreo cookie chunk on top and Oreo frosting. Very very good. The runner up was the Cookie Dough, which was a yellow cake cupcake with chocolate frosting and a piece of soft cookie dough baked into the middle. Yum.

There wasn't much of a line when we went in the late afternoon, but when we went out around 8ish, there was a line out the door.

A box of six cost us $5.50. A box of 12 would cost $10.

Here's the rub though. While I literally spent almost nothing at Baked By Melissa, it's a terrible terrible terrible value. It would take at least a box of twelve micro-cupcakes to add up to one normal cupcake at Billy's (my fave). That's a $10 cupcake. No one in their right mind would pay ten bucks for a cupcake.

OKTOBERFEST SPECIAL 2011!!!

2011-10-20T19:39:00.000-04:00

OKTOBERFEST SPECIAL 2011!!!

Beekman Beer Garden

Der Schwartz Kolner

Loreley

Spritzenhaus Bierhalle

Zum Stammtisch

Last year, I traveled the city for my first Oktoberfest Special. This year, the beer garden wars return with a little more of a showing from the indoor beer halls instead, thanks in no small part to the abysmally crappy weather we've been having this month.

In addition to last year's five, Berry Park (Williamsburg/Greenpoint), Bohemian Hall (Astoria), Radegast Hall (Williamsburg), Standard Biergarten (Meatpacking), and Studio Square (Astoria), there are a few other notables that I have visited that were not all lumped together in the Special, but which would be great additions to anyone's Oktoberfest bar crawl: Beer Table (Park Slope), Manor Oktoberfest (Forest Hills), and Wechsler's Currywurst and Bratwurst (East Village).

Although Queens is what most people think of when they think of beer gardens, Brooklyn has taken center stage as the place to be for beer people. Brooklyn Brewery is there and has grown lots in the past few years. It's New York's answer to Boston's Sam Adams. Brooklyn probably has as many beer gardens/halls as the other boroughs put together. Hence, for the five I looked at this year, Brooklyn took three spots.

BEEKMAN BEER GARDEN BEACH CLUB

89 South Street

New York, NY 10038

(212) 896-4600

The Beekman, at South Street Seaport, takes over from the recently gone Water Taxi Beach and the sand is still there. The outdoor space is vast. Dozens of long tables, a pool table and some fooseball sit beside bright white easy chairs and benches that look like soft pleather but are actually all-weather hard plastic.

The Beekman was dead when I went around lunchtime. Shockingly dead. The beer menu is paltry at best, and as much as I like Magic Hat #9, it didn't really inspire that Oktoberfest biergarten mood. Plus the food I ordered, a tasteless sausage, generic fries, and a pretzel that was probably made out of cardboard didn't add much to the experience. Still, one can't get past the simple truth that of every beer garden in the city, it has the far and away best views of all of them. I was content with my book and the solitude but I imagine that come nightfall throngs of tourists and recent MBA grads swarm this place like their life depended on it, huddled together by the outdoor fire pits, pints of Witte in hand.

DER SCHWARTZ KOLNER

710 Fulton Street

Brooklyn, NY 11217

(347) 841-4495

Smack in Fort Greene, Der Schwartz Kolner is gentrification incarnate. Once upon a time, if someone compared Fort Greene to a toilet, the toilet would get offended. These days, based on the number of babies, smartphones, and yuppie 30 year olds high fiving each other, you're looking at Park Slope 2. Communal tables with folding chairs aside, that's where Der Schwartz Kolner falls short. It's a (small) beer hall with good beer and better currywurst, but it lacks a certain soul. The white and black checkered tiles say that much.

I met Seth here after he finished roaming the nabe for an apartment. I grabbed one of the tall tables near the door and plopped down. I ordered a beer from a waitress in jeggings and was left pretty much completely alone. The customers, from the business-type dudes in the photo to the community-garden hippies with the strollers behind me, everyone was having a loud ball. One thing's for sure, I may not score it high in the traditional sense, but if you're here, the odds are you've got a big smile on your face. Like you probably would at a normal bar.

LORELEY

64 Frost Street

Brooklyn, NY 11211

(718) 599-0025

Loreley (shouldn't it be Lorelei?) is the place everyone has been talking about (recently with a short blurb in the Oktoberfest pullout in the Daily News). Located in what looks like a widget factory, half indoors and half outdoors, half restaurant and half beer garden, half eating space and half music venue, Loreley is the closest I came this year to a traditional beer garden. It's maybe a fifth the size of Bohemian Hall in Astoria, but with some trees, communal tables and more Radeberger than you can shake a stick out, it sure does try to live up to the standard.

I met Lina here after she got herself a tattoo nearby (this is Williamsburg). We grabbed a table outside, a round of half liters, and proceeded to fill up on pretzels. Warm and soft, the way they should be, though perhaps with more salt than necessary. She then ordered the a weisswurst plate. It came the way they do in Germany: with a mountain of sauerkraut next to another mountain of mashed potatoes. I ordered another beer and a schnitzel sandwich (the schnitzelsandwich, in German).

The crowd here was young, but this is Brooklyn, where they get rid of you Logan's Run style once you hit 40. It was also chilly and overcast, as it was all week. So much so that we wondered if we'd be forced inside by rain. But the rain never came, leaving Loreley relatively calm and relaxing. The walls and hedges muffled the sound of the few cars that drove by, but at a cost of making one feel somewhat claustrophobic. Still. If I lived around here, I'd be a regular.

SPRITZENHAUS BIERHALLE
33 Nassau Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11222
(347) 987-4632

Spritzenhaus wins. Spritzenhaus manages to be literally everything anyone could want in a drinkatorium. First, they're huge. Just massive. Bench tables, bistro tables, group tables, plus outdoor sidewalk seating. They have a vast arrays of beer on tap and, for those who aren't into beer, a vast array of whiskey to boot. The staff is friendly. They let you sample the beer first and those "samples" are big. I had a whole pint in samples alone before I ordered anything. Not only that, but the food was spectacular.

I met Seth here for a few bites and a few brews and it was deserted. "It's the weather," the bartender told me. "Usually we're packed." Still, I wasn't complaining. Better service for me. We ordered the blood sausage, which was fantastic, along with a bratwurst. That was followed up by some more wursts and some fries and plenty of dipping sauce. All of which was washed down with copious liters of malty hoppy goodness.

But no place is perfect and I won't go anywhere without making one negative comment, so here it is. The music. God awful. Please, no more heavy metal. Or at least, no more bad heavy metal. I beg of thee.

ZUM STAMMTISCH

69-46 Myrtle Avenue

Glendale, NY

(718) 386-3014

Yeah, that's right. There's a guy playing an accordion in that pic. That's how real Zum Stammtisch is. No bullshit games about trying to incorporate ways to get free-range organic veal on the menu. This place is old school. Do the waitresses wear those St.Pauli Girl get-ups? Yep. Does the bartender wear green overalls and hand you your beer in an off-white porcelain mug? Damn right he does. Is escargot served in a baked potato here? Ummm... apparently that's a tradition. Who knew? Anyway.

Granted, Zum Stammtisch isn't a great big beer hall and granted, it doesn't have quite the outdoor space to be a beer garden either (or any outdoor space, for that matter). But there's something to be said for adding an honest-to-God, NYU student-free, tourist-free, blasting-live-polka-loud-as-all-shit place to the Oktoberfest mix. If Bohemian Hall and Zum Stammtisch prove nothing else, it's that if authenticity's what you want, Queens is where to be.

Pike and I arrived here midweek and killed a half hour at the bar before getting food. If the other places I looked at were young or hip, this ain't them. The average age here was 60 and the average weight was 200 pounds. These were fat, aged, happy people. And I emphasize happy. People were tapping on the windows and waving when they looked in to see their friend inside. Middle aged women were dancing with each other between the tables. People you didn't even see five seconds ago were striking up conversations about... well, nothing. You know how people complain about New Yorkers saying that we're cold, that we're not outgoing, that we don't smile at each other. They need to come here.

So Pike and I found a seat, ordered more food between us than a third world village saw in a week, drank from our steins and vegged out for who knows how long while the oompah band played loudly on. Sadly, the sauerbraten was not more than just okay. But the potato soup was something you'd kick cute little puppies to get at.

KLIMAT

2011-10-11T14:57:00.001-04:00

KLIMAT

77 East 7th Street

New York, NY 10003

(212) 777-1112

Klimat is a tough place to categorize. The food is mostly Polish, but seems to be plenty of Greek/Turkish influence here too. Moussaka and hummus, anyone? The beers are primarily Czech or Polish, though the same can't be said of their wine. And I just learned this yesterday, it's known for being a place that ex-pat Brits frequent. Interesting, but I came for the pierogi.

The last time I ate pierogi outside of my parents' house, it was at Veselka and it stunk. When Lina told me that she'd heard good things about the food at Klimat, I didn't hesitate.

Klimat calls itself a lounge, but despite the sheer red curtains, that's a bit of a stretch. Still, the black leather sofas, the dark woods, the red lights, smell of alcohol and a few S&M-ish chains lend a certain sexiness to the place once the sun goes down and the crowd picks up. Despite this, there's one indisputable fact about food that hailing from the far side of where the Iron Curtain used to hang. It ain't sexy. Indeed, I'd be willing to lay money down that not a chef's been born who can sexify goulash or borscht.

Speaking of which, Lina initially wanted to get the borscht, but then wasn't hungry enough for an appetizer. Instead, she just ordered the Kielbasa, a pork sausage with caramelized onion, mustard and french fries. And it was good! The seasoned fries were disappointing because they were too soggy and would have been far better if they were crisp. I ordered the the Spicy Worms, which sadly were not in fact worms, though that would have been cool. Instead they were basically kielbasa sliced int french fry shaped slivers, fried (or cooked somehow) in a spicy batter and served with similarly shaped slivers of cucumber. Of course, I needed my pierogi. It (and the copious Czech beer I was pounding back) was why I came. That and because I hadn't hung out with Lina in six months, but really, it was the pierogi. I ordered the mixed plate, which came with two each of the Mushroom and Sauerkraut Pierogi, Potato and Cheese Pierogi, and Meat Pierogi (ground chicken and pork). You can choose between getting the pierogis boiled or fried, and chose fried. The mushroom and sauerkraut was my least favorite, but I saw that coming. Sauerkraut is something I really have to be in the mood for. In the mood for or drunk. The potato and cheese was perfect though. Smooth as silk with a hint of cheese in the background. The meat pierogis were great, too. Once I was headed home after dropping Lina off at Penn, I called my parents to give them the heads up about going here.

Klimat is just about as cheap as you can get here in the city. Dishes range fro $7 to $15. Amex or cash only.

KlimatCard.jpg
[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

TRIBECA TACO TRUCK

2011-09-27T19:38:00.000-04:00

TRIBECA TACO TRUCK

Broadway, between Spring and Prince

Since time immemorial, New Yorkers have loved street food. It's in our blood. From the Sabrett hot dog carts on every museum mile corner to the sweet roasted-honey smell of the Nuts 4 Nuts stand wafting down the block to the Halal guys drenching your lamb lunch in a soup of "white" sauce and colon burning hot sauce, if the food's being hawked on the sidewalk, we assume that it has to be good. And it's a pretty good bet that we're not wrong. In the last few years, street meat's gone upscale with the food truck. Every week it seems that the Times is talking about a truck festival or Time Out is doing a comparison of the top 20 rolling menus. Some of these trucks have been so successful that they were able to expand into brick-and-mortar storefronts (see: Schnitzels & Things). But then it sort of removes the fun and, dare I say it, romance of eating truck food.

For about a year, the Tribeca Taco truck's been slinging tacos, burritos and such at NYers. This particular day, it was parked in SoHo opposite Uniqlo and I got on the long line of people looking for a cheap, tasty, and these days, trendy lunch.

Every taco came with cilantro and onion. There were a variety of taco fillings to choose from, a variety of sauces to pour on top, and a choice of soft or crunchy. I'll always choose a hard taco over a soft one and I stuck to my guns this time, too. As for the fillings: soy mango, chipotle crema, avocado crema, pineapple barbecue, salsa verde and picante rojo. The first four are, I'm certain, very tasty. But it seemed to me that they would probably overpower the fillings with sweetness. So I stuck with a traditional picante rojo.

I ordered four (the limit you were allowed to order), all different, like a variety pack. First, Cactus. Cactus was one of Tribeca's two vegetarian options, the other being chipotle tofu. It wasn't a bad taco, but it wasn't a good one either. Cactus is a relatively tasteless plant and tastes pretty much like okra without the slime factor. Next time I want to skip the meat I'll go with tofu. Up next I bit into the namesake Tribeca, chorizo and spicy pork. Not bad, but not as good as number three, the Al Pastor spicy pork and pineapple. Ah, now we're getting somewhere. Sweet in all the right places with the spicy tang of the pork. But I have to say, my favorite of all was the plain old, simple as can be Ground Beef. Not greasy, not bland. If I ever find myself getting a taco in Corona, it's my go to taco, and I think it will be here in SoHo, too. Perhaps that's boring of me, but I've always seen tacos as comfort food. It's already perfect, so why fix what ain't broken.

Though that said, I bet a s'mores taco would be pretty neat.

GRAVY

2011-09-20T21:38:00.001-04:00

GRAVY

32 East 21st Street

New York, NY 10010

(212) 600-2105

There was a time, not long ago, when eating "Southern" food meant trying to find a halfway decent barbecue joint or driving halfway to New Haven to sup at a Cracker Barrel. But, in the last few years, chefs have been traveling north and settling into the deep blue confines of the Big Apple. Hell, Madison Square Park now hosts an annual barbecueathon pulling famous joints in from across the country for a weekend of seriously non-kosher, thoroughly un-vegan delight. One of the latest of these southerners is Gravy in the Flatiron district. And, while Gravy is good and fun, it's certainly priced to cover the rent.

If most other southern restaurants try to play up a cliched hokey, country music lovin', pickup truck from 1975 drivin', I drink shit beer in a can, mamma didna raise no sissies, whachoo lookin' at boy, I'll take some pecan pie, thank you very much ma'am boni-fidees, then Gravy seeks to undo all that with virtually no Mason-Dixon Line references outside of the kitchen. Everything here is clean and modern and upscale and pricey. The food ain't cheap and the drinks are even less so. There's a sexiness in the air that can only really be understood when you sit in the lounge at the entrance. It was like being in a hotel lounge and, while waiting for a table, we were handed the cocktail menu. We felt cheap just waiting, but I wasn't about to pay $14.

The meal was started as we stared at our menus, deciding our fates. "I hope we get cornbread," said Speeds. "It's not a southern meal without cornbread." Honey Rosemary Bread appeared in front of us instead. And before you besmirch the honey rosemary bread, it was insane. It was beyond good. It made cornbread look like a joke southerners play on everyone else while they stick with the good stuff. So the next time someone hands you a plate of cornbread, you just send it right on back.

Mr. Dogz opted out of the appetizers, but mine was the Louisiana Crawfish Gumbo Fritters, with a tomato aioli for dipping. It was okay. Not very crawfishy. The dish was made with the aioli. Without it, you'd have been eating deep fried lobsterish balls. Emphasis on "ish". Speeds got the Fried Green Tomatoes with shaved fennel and goat cheese and thought they were pretty good. I never got a chance to steal a bite, and at one point even asked her where her fried green tomatoes were. "I finished them" she said. "You mean that salad?" Yep.

Foregoing an entree in favor of a large side dish, Speeds followed up her Fried Green tomatoes with the Crispy Mac and Cheese, a casserole macaroni and cheese dish with a breadcrumb top. This time we all got to try it. Not bad, we all noted, but we also all had better. I suppose that everyone has their own favorite macaroni and cheese recipe, usually made by some relative or other, and who can really compare to that? My entree was the Black Garlic Braised Pork Butt with marinated arugula under honey grit cake with toasted corn relish. Mr. Dogz argued that this was the best dish of the night. I was less impressed. I was expecting a big filet mignon sized chunk of pork with a half inch of crusted fat across the top. Instead I got a sloppy joe without the bun. So, I mean it wasn't "bad", but it wasn't really what I thought it would be. Just call it "Fancy Sloppy Joe" and then maybe I won't feel so bad dropping $20+ on it. My vote for best dish of the night went to Dogz's Corn Flake Crusted Chicken. A ball of chicken stuffed with andouille and cheddar, braised collards and kale, and barbecue beans. It was like a down home countrified chicken cordon bleu. But less healthy.

In conclusion, Gravy is cool and fun. The crowd is young and trendy in a Flatiron District sort of way. But it isn't really worth the price when you could get better, or at least the same, for less elsewhere. I can see myself returning, but I can't see making myself a regular here.

Appetizers average $15 and entrees average $26.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

NINTH WARD

2011-09-12T14:56:00.001-04:00

NINTH WARD

180 Second Avenue

New York, NY 10003

(212) 979-9273

One fine sweltering summer day you may be like me, longing for some food, dying for a spiked drink, and wondering "where, Lord, can I go escape this heat and grab some liquid sin?" Around the corner I foundeth mine answer. Ninth Ward right between 11th and 12th street. I walked in and the place had was drowning in the smell of oak and whiskey and sugar and with a hint of charred beef. A hundred degrees in the shade outside, it was cool inside and pitch black, lit only by the open door and the candles.

I returned later in the week, after a movie, with a few friends (Gloron, Mr. Dogz, Emma, and a few others who don't as yet have names). We were led out into the rear patio area and seated near their fountain. The humidity was a killer that night and if Ninth Ward has a flaw, that flaw was our waitress. I like Ninth Ward - a lot - but with the humidity and the heat, they should have had pitchers of ice water rearing to go by the dozen. Instead, no such luck. We asked and waited and re-asked and re-waited. One pitcher arrived and was instantly emptied. Our drinks were on the way, we were told. Gloron, no slouch when it comes to lending an un-asked-for hand, got up, walked over to our waitress (who spent an inordinate amount of time inside where it was cooler) and said "Hey, would you like help carrying stuff, like waters, around?" She declined.

Eventually, our drinks did come, soon followed by the food. And before you begin to feel that this one person, in tandem with our sweaty and irritable selves, ruined my opinion, I did in fact return with more friends (Seth and a friend of ours from L.A.) just the other night. And the service then was problem free.

My first meal was the Pulled Pork Sandwich, a big honkin' 'wich with potato chips, pickles (that you should totally put in the sandwich) and some slaw. It was spicy and messy and sweet and after I ate it, it sat in my stomach like a brick the way a pound of barbecue sauce coated pork should. Emma, choosing to avoid becoming quite the fat slob I'm turning into ordered only appetizers (and then shared them?!?), the Dirt Fries which were very good spicy french fries, and the Slap Ya Mamma Buffalo Wings, which were pretty average wings. I usually expect more bite from my macho misogyny-themed foodstuffs, but alas. Mr. Dogz and later on, Seth, picked up the Debris Dip, a french-dip type sandwich with shredded beef and au jus and they both thought it was fantastic. Gloron ordered the Gumbo, a chicken, sausage and shrimp stew, and though it was just okay. My friend from L.A. ordered the St. Charles Chicken Sandwich, chicken, herbed mayo and melted provolone cheese on a ciabatta roll and thought it was far better than just okay. Our table also ordered an appetizer of Fried Pickles because, once you see that on a menu, how do you not get them? They were loved by all. Upon my return, I ordered a starter of Shrimp & Andouille Skewers, grilled shrimp and andouille sausage, which was super good. I mean, it's shrimp and sausage. What's not to love. That was followed up with the Bleu Bayou Burger, a hamburger topped with bleu cheese and chocolate covered bacon. This was heaven on a plate.

Appetizers average $8. Entrees average $10. Beers were around $7. There's also a cocktail list filled with some fun New Orleans themed drinks that were around $12.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

The U.S. Open Food Tasting Preview

2011-09-01T17:35:00.000-04:00

The U.S. Open Food Tasting Preview

The US Open attracts more than just the hard-bodied sex symbols of professional tennis and their legions of fans from across the globe. It most importantly attracts their sponsors. And sponsors, like all of the rest of us, need to eat. And because these individuals need to eat well, the US Open also attracts designer menus, this year whipped up by guest chefs Masaharu Morimoto (of Food Network fame and head honcho at Morimoto) and Tony Mantuano (of Bravo's Top Chef and grand poobah at Spiaggia).

I sent my intrepid photographer Emma to go and check out the scene because A) she's a far more attractive public face for this humble little blog, but also B) because my flight from Belgium had been canceled, forcing me to subsist on a meager diet of crepes, mussels steamed in white wine, and Trappist ale. My thanks goes out to Emma for taking the time to eat for me and for you, so that we might both know what the box-seat hob-nobbers get to indulge in after the matches.

For the record, Emma's favorite dish was the Serrano ham on bread and the crab cake, and her favorite drink was the Honey Deuce, the US Open's signature cocktail: Grey Goose, lemonade, raspberry liqueur, and honeydew melon "tennis balls".

DBGB

2011-08-12T12:16:00.007-04:00

DBGB (the burger review)

299 Bowery
Nee York, NY 10003
(212) 933-5300

On my way to meet Mr. Dogz for drinks at The Randolph at Broome, I decided to stop by DBGB for a burger. The weather was perfect, if actually on the slightly chilly side and there were plenty of seats open seats outside. Inside, the place is huge, but dark and why anyone would choose to sit there like a bat in a cave when you can sit out in the sunlight is beyond me. Perhaps all those diners inside knew what I was to learn: that the folks outside are oft forgotten.

After telling the hostesses just inside that I'd like a table outside, they simply pointed at the window. "Sure go pick a seat. We'll send someone out there." Ahh, service. Ten minutes of sitting quietly later, someone came to give me a menu. Even then, he stopped on the way to talk to other people. This was not boding well and the omen of disinterest made its way into the food as well.

I ordered DBGB's standard cheeseburger, the Yankee Burger with cheddar for an extra $2 and don't see myself ordering it ever again. To be blunt, it stunk. I asked for it to be cooked medium. It came out well. It was heavily salted for some reason. It was merely warm, bordering on cold, like it had been sitting for fifteen minutes next to an air conditioner. The chef put shredded lettuce on it like it was a taco. Who puts shredded lettuce on a hamburger? Even Wendy's uses the whole leaf. And relative to the other burger restaurants out there in the city, it's small. I've never come so close to sending food back that didn't have hair in it.

The fries were fine.

The burger/fries combo with a diet Coke, tax and tip came to $21.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

THE FRANKLIN MORTGAGE & INVESTMENT CO.

2011-08-02T14:55:00.008-04:00

THE FRANKLIN MORTGAGE & INVESTMENT CO.
112 South 18th Street
Philadelphia, PA 19103
(267) 467-3277

If you were ever in Philadelphia and ever wondered to yourself, as I have on more than one occasion, "Where can a guy get a decent drink around here?" (other than the bar at the Ritz Carlton lobby... and even then), then you need ask no more. Philadelphia does in fact have its own true cocktail lounge.

If I were to compare The Franklin Mortgage & Investment Company ("The Franklin") to a New York bar, it would most fit the profile of Little Branch. It's dark, it's under the street and the staff wears Prohibition-era-esque clothing. The drinks are stunning and the bartenders know their shit more than you might think possible (Date Tip: guys, do not sit at the bar if you want your girl to look at you, because the bartenders here ain't the uggos you might see slinging hooch at McGeneric O'Plain's Irish Pub). One major difference between The Franklin and almost any NYC speakeasy is the speakeasy part. They skip the hidden aspect. No teensy weensy little plaque nobody can see; they fly a huge flag over the sidewalk. But once you're inside, it's back to speakeasy-as-usual.

I spent the last several days with Bro in Philadelphia and one lovely, scaldingly hot evening, we decided we needed to go-a-drinkin'. The Franklin was our first stop. If the lounges here were any indication, there'd be a line that we needed to beat. In fact, we did not beat the line. But the wait wasn't too bad. About ten minutes, but we did have to sit at the bar.

Our stay at The Franklin netted us six drinks (three each), leaving us with a good, pre-very-late-dinner buzz. I started with the Coal Cracker Cocktail, rye whiskey, galliano, sasparilla, blackberry syrup and bitters. For those of you out there who aren't very big whiskey people, this is a good drink to start with. While it's far from a sweet drink, it's more mellow than something as hard-nosed and old fashioned as, say, an Old Fashioned, which is what I ordered for round two. Rye, bitters, and sugar. Thankfully, they didn't dumb it down with a maraschino cherry.

Bro started with the Regime Change Punch, Bourbon, Applejack, Galliano, Allspice dram, lemon juice, honey, demerara, honey, tea and bitters. It's a mouthful and there's no way I could make it at home. But it was very good. His second drink was a Classic Mai Tai. Have you ever been on a cruise or at some resort where you can swim up to the bar and ordered a mai tai. You get a drink with rum, Malibu, pineapple juice, OJ and a jungle of garnishes to fight your way through? Yeah well, this ain't that. Rum, sugar, triple sec, lime juice and Orgeat, an almost syrup. It's creamy and light and doesn't taste like it came from a can.

We ended our experience here with an Airmail (rum, lime juice and honey, topped with champagne) and a Corpse Reviver #2 (gin, Cointreau, Lillet and absinth). Again, fantastic drinks, and they closed out the night here properly.

These six drinks plus tip came to about $92.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

RED HOOK LOBSTER POUND

2011-07-19T17:41:00.007-04:00

RED HOOK LOBSTER POUND

284 Van Brunt Street

Brooklyn, NY 11231

(646) 326-7650

Like any blue-blooded American, I like... nay love, lobster. But it's neither the easiest nor cheapest food to find. So lobster was for special occasions and restaurants that made you wear a tie to sit down. But now, thanks in large part to the sudden popularity of Luke's Lobster, this crustacean is having a renaissance. The Red Hook Lobster Pound, in Red Hook (and Washington, DC) is expanding this market with a food truck roaming the city (something that is also enjoying a renaissance).

I found myself in Red Hook the other day with nothing to do and all by myself. I wanted some lunch and remembered that Red Hook Lobster Pound had just started following my Twitter ravings. Naturally, I wandered over.

There are no seats at the Red Hook Lobster Pound, but there are a couple of benches outside. I was reminded of my visit to Steve's Authentic Key Lime Pies. But Van Brunt Street is a deserted place and I was able to straddle the bench to use as a makeshift table. You can order a lobster or shrimp roll and they'll serve it Maine Style or Connecticut Style. I opted for the Maine Style Lobster Roll. A buttered, toasted bun, lettuce, paprika, scallion and a giant amount of lightly mayoed lobster. I got through half of one bite before all the synapses in my brain lit up and "holy shit" emerged from what little room there was left in my mouth. This was a damn good roll, my friends. Luke's has competition in the taste department if not in the convenient-to-get-to department.

Lobster rolls, though cheaper than a dinner at Atlantic Grill might be, aren't free. My combo had a lobster roll, a root beer, and a bag of potato chips, was $18.25.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

SCHNITZEL & THINGS

2011-07-14T12:46:00.009-04:00

SCHNITZEL & THINGS
723 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10017
(212) 905-0000

Schnitzel & Things. It used to be a truck, now it has a brick and mortar location, too, on Third Avenue. As a lover of schnitzels, I was excited to try this new lunch location. It exists where Kushi Q used to, before Kushi Q moved to CitiGroup Center, which is incidentally right where I work now. And so I did walk downtown to 45th Street. A bit of a schlep, but I had read good things on Midtown Lunch, who, I'll say up front, liked it more than I did.

Schnitzel & Things offers two basic types of dishes (and don't expect to eat either with an uber stein of brau.... have some iced tea): schnitzel platters and schnitzel sandwiches. Pork, chicken, cod, eggplant and veal are the varieties offered. If you get the platter, then you can mix and match your schnitzels, and get a side. If you get the sandwich, then you just get a sandwich. I, for the record, chose the sandwich option. Mostly this was because I wanted to save time and couldn't really do a whole lunch "meal". There is also a bratwurst and a burger.

I chose three sandwiches over the course of my visits. The Chicken Schnitzel Sandwich, the Pork Schnitzel Sandwich, and their odd-man-out, a Grilled Ginger Chicken Sandwich. You can choose from a small variety of free toppings from behind a Subway-esque glass window, and then choose from a small variety of extra-cost toppings and sauces. No horseradish was available, which I find shocking. The ginger chicken sandwich was the best of the bunch. It was moist and surprisingly flavorful. The pork schnitzel and the chicken schnitzel tasted identically. I challenge anyone to be able to tell them apart. I liked them in the sandwich, but feel that the thickness of the bun muted the flavor. The shop should put the schnitzels on a thinner bread. Or offer a choice of breads. I'd choose a cranberry walnut. Anyway, this way you could taste the meat rather than just get a hint of its existence.

Service was brisk, cold and disinterested, despite their being only a modest line.

Sandwiches and a drink should run you about $12. They were good, but not great. I'd go back and try the platters, and would recommend the ginger chicken to everyone. But would I go stand on line here for a half hour? No.

VINEGAR HILL HOUSE

2011-06-26T21:11:00.013-04:00

VINEGAR HILL HOUSE
72 Hudson Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11201
(718) 522-1018

Operagirl, who normally resides in New Haven, decided to take up residency closer to Lincoln Center and decided to recruit my help finding a new pad. My reward? Dinner. I felt somewhat guilty when I first suggested Vinegar Hill House, since it's not cheap. But after three brokers, twenty apartments, and countless blocks it turned out to be a pretty good deal on her end.

Vinegar Hill is the easternmost part of Dumbo (or DUMBO, depending on how anal you are), brushing right up against the Brooklyn Navy Yard. It's home to a random peppering of old homes, brownstones, modern luxury low-rises and a few galleries. It's about a 10-15 walk from the F-train. Vinegar Hill House is one of the only eateries in the area and it takes on the role of casual local food joint, upscale restaurant, and cocktail bar. It oozes Brooklyn. The staff dresses exactly like its customers and its customers dress like wealthy hipsters. This should not come as unexpected given that we're in a trendy/wealthy section of Brooklyn and that the owner hails from none other than last week's Freemans, which I absolutely loved, but which was also somewhat hipstery. Hokey homey flourishes line the walls of Vinegar Hill House's dark interior and plaid shirts line the chests of its exclusively under-40-year-old patrons. You'll either love it or hate it.

Vinegar Hill does cocktails better than it does cuisine. In fact, the first thing I saw upon entering was a bartender fiercely shaking a drink. We started with two from the small list (they'll make whatever you want, but their signature drink menu has less than a half dozen) and were instantly impressed. Later on, we ordered two more and the impressing continued.

I wish I could say the same for the food, which was good but which didn't hit my tongue's g-spot in quite the same way. Operagirl's appetizer was the Caesar Salad. No gloppy salad dressing from a squeeze bottle here. They made the dressing the real way and it would have been a lot better if the croutons weren't "schmaltzed"... soaked in chicken fat. To be fair, Operagirl liked it. I can not say the same for myself. My appetizer was the Chicken Liver Mousse, served with a healthy topping of pistachios, some bread and some caramelized onions. This was okay, but not wonderful. It was cold, so was almost like eating liver ice cream. Smeared on the bread and topped with the onions it was more palatable, but I couldn't finish even this relatively small portion.

The entrees were better. Operagirl chose the Cast Iron Chicken, a half chicken roasted to a golden brown in a cast iron skillet, served with greens. It was a little dry, and while it was flavorful, it simply couldn't compare to a similar dish at Danny Brown in Queens, who serves the gold-standard of golden half chickens. I ordered the Striped Bass. This was very good, but the fish itself was extremely small and they used far too much salt. Vinegar Hill House gave this dish a Mediterranean slant by serving it on a bed of hummus and Greek salad (sans feta) and alongside a falafel patty.

I wanted a coffee, Operagirl wanted a dessert. She chose the Guinness Chocolate Cake topped with a sweet and delectably smooth cream cheese frosting. But as good as the frosting was, the cake could not stand on its own without it. It was far too dry and the Guinness, mixed with dark chocolate, made the cake an especially bitter one.

In conclusion, Vinegar Hill House is a good restaurant with a great vibe. The drinks are great but the food needs work, a surprise given the chef's resume. At the end Operagirl and I felt a little let down, especially when you consider the price of our pretty standard meal broke $80 per person after tax and tip. The service was fine, if distant, and the crowd, as I mentioned, is decidedly not-diverse in either age, ethnicity, or income. In other words, you'll either feel right at home or very far away from it.

Four drinks, two appetizers, two entrees, a coffee and one dessert totaled $133 before tax and tip.

FREEMANS

2011-06-20T12:10:00.002-04:00

FREEMANS
8 Rivington Street
New York, NY 10012
(212) 420-0012

If you're like me and think that the best restaurants that the city has to offer are the ones that can successfully combine being a cocktail club with a dining room, then you're bound to spend your time at Freemans smiling. There are a few (and growing) of these spread across our fair city such as, but far from limited to Rye, The Breslin, and Fort Defiance. Bossette and Shoulders, who I hadn't seen in quite some time, recommended Freemans. I arrived with Pike a little early for an aforementioned cocktail and to grab a table.

Freemans glitters at the back of Freemans Alley, past the graffiti and behind a canopy of lamps and ivy. Like so many of the new breed of restaurants that the city has to offer, Freeman's is low key without being lazy. Relaxed. Classy while maintaining being casual. Freemans isn't a seafood restaurant by any stretch, but (Pescatarian's rejoice) it has a fish-heavy menu. I won't dissect the cocktail menu the way I would with a place like Death & Co., but there is a great cocktail menu here and an impressive whiskey list. Expect to pay an average of $12 for a drink.

We went a little overboard on the appetizers, but it was all worth it. Clockwise from the top: The Steamed New England Clams served in a tomato and fennel broth with scallions and a toasted baguette. Tender and grit-free. The tomato broth was tangy and the fennel added that smokey bitterness you get from a light dusting of licorice. A Spring Greens Salad, an otherwise common salad but here tarted up with some herbs, goat cheese, shaved fennel and a rhubarb dressing. This was shared by Bossette and Shoulders and I didn't partake. What can I say? I'm not a salad guy. They thoroughly enjoyed it. The Fried Montauk Squid served with a tangy mayo was extremely good. Even people who aren't squid people will enjoy it without the fear that they'll be essentially chewing on a fish-flavored rubber band. The Grilled Cheddar Toast and Hot Artichoke Dip with Crisp Bread are exactly what they claim to be. These were the most simple appetizers and the most traditionally comfort-foodish. Maybe that's why they were my favorites. You can just relax with them... like eating a La-Z-Boy.

Shoulders had just turned down having a mac and cheese dish for lunch and, seeing the option here at Freemans, could not do so again. The creamy cheesiness called out to him so he ordered the Five Cheese Macaroni, a baked mac and cheese dish served in the pan it was cooked in. Very good it was. Bossette went for the Grilled Maine Sea Scallops, served with white beans, garlic and an almond-bean relish. She liked it and so did I. I always refrain from ordering scallops because I always remember them tasting terrible. And yet, lately, everywhere I go someone I'm with orders the scallops, I'll try one, and think that they're superb. Here, again, I really was impressed with something my brain tells me not to order. Pike ordered the Seared Filet Mignon with sweet and sour onions, mashed potatoes and a horseradish cream sauce. He inhaled the whole plate before anyone had a chance to ask for a taste so I assume it couldn't have tasted too terrible. My entree was the Cornmeal Crusted Fluke over English peas in a vegetable broth. Fantastic and light as a feather. This was the kind of fish dish I could eat every time I went out to dinner. The flavor was subtle, but not bland, all of the ingredients worked, and I put my fork down feeling neither full nor hungry. I also ordered a side of Garlic-Sauteed Rapini for the table since how can you go wrong with that?

Come dessert time, in addition to coffees, we ordered a Bananas Foster, a booze and butter and sugar drenched banana dessert topped with vanilla ice cream, and a Strawberry Rhubarb somethingorother. Sundae? Ice cream strawberry and rhubarb served in a mason jar with whipped cream and caramel. It weighed about five pounds and was deeeee-vine... God, I want one right now so bad... These desserts were seriously amazing.

The four of us paid $320 ($80 each), including tax and tip for everything listed above plus some drinks.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

THE RANDOLPH AT BROOME

2011-06-05T11:59:00.001-04:00

THE RANDOLPH AT BROOME
349 Broome Street
New York, NY 10013
(212) 274-0667

Until just now, I never knew the pure joy that comes from double-fisting a bespoke coffee and a artisinal cocktail. And now I do. I wonder, will my life ever be the same? Indeed there are few real cocktail bars where you can arrive alone and not feel like a hobo drifting into town long enough for the next freight train to Saskatchewan to come through. Hell, there are few real cocktail bars that know, or even bother to find out, how to brew a halfway decent cup of joe. So filling that void is The Randolph at Broome.

The Randolph at Broome is both a coffee bar for serious coffee people and a cocktail bar for serious cocktail people. Some people sit on the sofa, some with laptops. I sat at one of their booths and did a little paperwork, alternating between a very heavy cup of coffee and a delightfully bitter rye-based concoction.

I've been to The Randolph a couple of times with a couple of people, so don't think that what I drank were all mine and all from just one visit. The Old Roman: rye whiskey, Aperol, blood orange bitters, sour cherries and a twist of rind. One of my favorites, but I also like whiskey and Aperol. Think of the Old Roman as a Manhattan with a twist. The Part & Parcel: St. Germaine, sugar, lime juice and grapefruit juice. Sadly, I forgot to note the main ingredient, which I think was vodka (a cocktail bar rarity). And alas, it's not on the menu anymore because it was simply and utterly fantastic. The World's Best Dad: a hot coffee cocktail with apple brandy and sweet vermouth. For anyone who thinks that this would be a weak drink, it's time for a correction. This drink is strong. Strong dark coffee, strong brandy. It'll wake you up and then put you to bed all in one go. It's a black russian with some balls. The Texas Porch Sipper: vodka, honey, muddled blackberries, mint and lemon. A tangy instead of sour mojito (basically a blackberry mojito) with a sweetness softened by using honey instead of sugar. The Old College Try: Rum, almond syrup, citrus and chocolate bitters. Creamy and pleasant, (like a creamsickle on coke) but too sweet for my taste and too heavy on the almond. Most cocktail menus don't have tequila drinks so I was pleased to find one here. El Pepino Fresco: Tequila, St. Germaine, cucumber and citrus bitters. It's sweet, but not numbingly so, thanks to the dose of the bitters.

Cocktails aside, The Randolph also does coffee, and if the woman from Seattle chatting up the bartender/barista is any indication, then they do it well. But it's strong. This isn't coffee for the faint of heart and if you think that Starbucks is dark, then you ain't seen nothing yet. If you ask for milk, they will measure out a jigger's worth and it will vanish into the black void of your mug, barely causing a dent in its color. And the coffees aren't cheap. They come either French pressed or pour-over. My French-pressed cup ran $4. Coffee service ends at 4:30pm.

The cocktails cost $14 after 8pm. From noon to 8pm it's happy hour and they only cost $7.

GREEN EGGS CAFE

2011-06-02T12:36:00.007-04:00

GREEN EGGS CAFE
719 North Second Street
Philadelphia, PA 19123
215-922-EGGS

Bro lives in the Philadelphia neighborhood of Northern Liberties. It's like a cross between the low-rise modern buildings and renovated warehouse lofts of Long Island City, the older town-homes of Cobble Hill, and the youthfully hipstery artsy scene of Williamsburg. It's basically where I'd want to live if I moved to Philadelphia. Green Eggs Cafe is down the block from his building and the first time I went there, it's where we went for brunch. And it's where Bro and I went for brunch on my final day in Philly.

Actually, since they're not open for dinner and who really has time during the week, brunch is their big thing. It's the reason you'd go. Sure they have sandwiches and stuff, but... come on. Anyway, get there early or get there late. They were packed to the brim this particular Sunday with waits of an hour for some. If you want, you can go to the back by the kitchen and grab a cup of coffee while you wait. They'll bill your table. But that area is very small and with wait staff coming and going along with patrons on line for the bathroom, you're more likely to spill your coffee than drink it. It was a nice day, so Bro and I put our names on the list and decided to walk around.

We finally got seated, ordered our coffees and juice and started re-acquainting ourselves with the menu.

The first time I came, I ordered The Kitchen Sink, a dish so-named because halfway through eating it, you're pretty sure you just ate an entire kitchen sink. Scrambled eggs, cheese, home fries, peppers onions, a biscuit and all covered in a sausage biscuit. It's served in a scalding hot cast iron skillet and weighs about forty pounds. It was delicious. But there's enough food there for a small village. I got through a third of it, then crawled under the table and took a nap. Bro ordered the Peanut Butter Crunchy French Toast, which might be the runner up for least healthy thing we could have eaten. French toast, stuffed with peanut butter and cream cheese and then coated in blackberry jam. Also phenomenal, but he has diabetes now.

The second trip was slightly healthier, though only by a thin margin. Bro, sticking with the French toast theme, ordered the Creme Brulee French Toast. Actually, this is just really plain ol' French toast but they drizzled a vanilla and brown sugar syrup reminiscent of creme brulee filling over it. It was good, but not decadent. My brunch was the Philly Style Eggs Benedict. A bagel with cream cheese, a poached egg and some grilled pork loin, all under Bearnaise sauce. Good, but I think I prefer the original. Still, it's a nice shift from the norm. And also quite heavy. I could only get through half. I also ordered a side of bacon though.

Green Eggs Cafe is cash only and the brunch options are about $8. But add in coffees and juice and so forth and it'll probably total about $20 per person with tax and tip.

NOBLE AMERICAN COOKERY

2011-05-27T13:59:00.002-04:00

NOBLE AMERICAN COOKERY
2025 Sansom Street
Philadelphia, PA 19103
(215) 268-7000

My second notable meal in Philadelphia came after a jazz concert on the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Bro, Dudeman and Shrink piled into Bro's car and headed off to the Rittenhouse Square district, which feels like a cross between Gramercy Park and the West Village. In truth, most of Philadelphia feels like a smaller scale version of New York City only with more colonial stuff peppered in. Once we found a parking space, we found the restaurant I was looking for. Our meal at City Tavern highlighted our status as tourists. Real Philadelphians wouldn't eat there any more than real New Yorkers would eat at Tavern On The Green (R.I.P.), Katz's Deli or Pastis. But I digress. We, by which I mean I, chose Noble American Cookery, a small plates restaurant on a street crowded with food and drink options... including a whiskey-centric bar that Bro pointed out that we didn't have time to go to, damnitall.

We sat upstairs on a relatively light night, though the downstairs was lively. This is a bit surprising in retrospect. The food is expensive by almost any standard, but it's so good. Save your pennies, Philadelphia. Save your pennies. Our waiter was clearly passionate about the menu, a rarity in any restaurant, but a good sign. If the staff is gushing about the dedication that goes into each dish, you can bet that the chef does as well. Nice wine and beer list, too.

A cursory look at the menu would make most people think "ah, this ain't too bad", but don't kid yourself. That $15 fish dish is microscopic. When Noble calls itself a small plates restaurant it means it. There is a three course, chef's choice option for $45 and I suggest that you go for it. We, instead chose two dishes each and left a little hungry, despite having had a late (4:30pm) lunch. Bro ordered the Chilled Green Sorrel Soup, a cold soup made from cream and pureed sorrel leaves. I don't usually care for cold soups, but I really liked this one. Very smooth, like... cream. Slightly bitter, but sweet and, after a lot of walking in the Philadelphia humidity, very refreshing. Dudeman ordered the Bibb Lettuce Salad, bibb lettuce, peas, cucumber, pickled camps and a miso-mayo dressing. It was fine. It's a salad. He liked it. I thought it reminded me of salad. Shrink's appetizer was the Peekytoe Crab, a microscopic cylindrical of diced crab over a dollop of rhubarb compote. Don't me wrong, it was delicious, but small and super light. A small breeze will blow away all of your food, and even if you eat it, you'll be hungry. My first course actually came from Noble's "second course" menu and I chose something heavy. To be fair, the waiter did warn us of the small portions. So this was strategy on my part. I ordered the Gnocchi Parisienne, tater tot sized gnocchi under a light creamy cheese sauce with sauteed asparagus. The gnocchi was like heaven. So amazingly good that I felt guilty only being able to offer everybody only one of them. But any more and I'd have been out of food. Even this far heavier dish was light. Though maybe I'm just a fat slob used to over-sized Olive Garden portions. But I don't think that's the case.

The second courses were larger, but only by a fraction. Bro ordered the Wild Rock Bass, a firm but malleable, slightly gamey, but very good piece of bass wrapped in Serrano, atop (three sprigs of) asparagus. Dudeman ordered the Cobia Loin, also a dense white fish, in Korean barbecue sauce with fava beans, grapefruit and wild ramps. Ramps are like a cross between leek and garlic. You can find them growing in the woods of the Hudson Valley, which is where I went picking for some last year. The chef may well have bought these from the son of the woman I went picking with. Shrink ordered the Grilled Spanish Rock Octopus with squid ink crochettas in a blood orange and caper dressing. I didn't eat any. She likes octopus in general and loved this dish. But there was simply too little food to really be able to share between four people. These three most recently described plates were all from the "second course" menu. My second course, however, came from the "third course" menu and, as such, was slightly larger than everyone else's. I ordered the Painted Hills Sirloin Flap Steak. It was insane. A dark au jus with garlic and spinach, this was the most "traditional" of plates and was my favorite of the evening.

Although still hungry, we ended up only ordering two dishes each. Bro wanted to take us to a gelato place he knew of down the block. I would return joyfully, and suggest you do the same. But expect to order at least three dishes here. And bring your wallet. And bring your patience. The wait for the food can be inordinately long. I chalk that up to freshness.

Eight small plates dishes and a round of beers, plus tax and tip came to $190.

CITY TAVERN

2011-05-23T15:36:00.009-04:00

CITY TAVERN
138 South Second Street
Philadelphia, PA 19106
(215) 413-1443

I arrived by train at Philadelphia's 30th Street Station to meet the fam for a little trip through the City of Brotherly Love. See, Bro has moved there and couple that with some existing vacation time, we all decided to converge there and spend a long weekend wandering (side note: Bro threatens to create his own Philly food blog, link to follow should it ever happen). After a wee bit of debate, the decision was to try out City Tavern, a restaurant in the Old City neighborhood that specializes in colonial-era cooking and which traces its roots to the days when it fed the Founding Fathers.

In a very real sense, City Tavern is a theme restaurant. Just the way that Jekyll & Hyde is like eating in a haunted house, and Rainforest Cafe is like eating in a jungle, and Planet Hollywood is like eating in the cafeteria of a Madame Tussaud's, City Tavern is like eating in 1785. The staff dress in colonial-style clothing, the water goblets are faux-pewter, tall candles decorate the table, it's dark because there isn't any lighting, the food and even the beer is largely based on recipes from the colonial-era, and there isn't any music. Someone was playing a piano at one point, but not for very long. This lends an eerie silence to the place, as everyone tries to talk in a whisper to prevent other patrons from listening in.

The City Tavern waiting room.

If there is one thing that colonial food was, it's simple. These were not elegant dishes, not fancy dishes, and there was hardly even the attempt to make them such. I think this was my biggest problem with City Tavern. Given the cost (expensive), I expected more. Maybe colonial food is just boring in general and to make it "better" would delete its colonial character. But personally, I need way more than kitch to be willing to shell out this much cash again.

The second floor dining room.

For an appetizer, Dudeman ordered the Crab Cakes "Chesapeake Style" with an herbed remoulade dipping sauce. These were very good. Creamy, loaded with crab instead of bread. Easily, it was the best thing of anything we ordered on the menu this evening. Unfortunately, that means that everything else wasn't as impressive. And so it was with the Mallard Duck Sausage, a duck and pork sausage over sweet and sour cabbage. While Bro liked it, finding that the sausage was well spiced and flavorful, I found it pretty bland and in dire need of the cabbage. My appetizer was the Giant Cornmeal Fried Oysters, and they were indeed giant. They were decent, deep fried and, coated with some tartar sauce, not bad. But nothing better than I could have gotten at any one of a dozen pubs for less money. Shrink ordered the Mushroom Barley Soup and, when I asked what she thought, she replied "it's salty mushroom barley soup".

Bro ordered the Roasted Duckling in a clover honey glaze with chutney, herbed barley, zucchini and asparagus, again, he won out with best entree. The glaze, while a little thick, worked well with the duck, which wasn't fatty in the least. The steamed vegetables were fine and clearly barley was the go-to side of the time. Dudeman went with the Medallions of Venison in a rosemary bourbon sauce with herbed barley, leek and vegetables. He found it gamey and that's not surprising for venison. As we passed the dish around, everyone just sort of nodded their assent. A venison stew. No more, no less. My dinner was the Tenderloin Tips & Mushrooms, beef cubes over egg noodles in a mushroom cream sauce. If you have ever had beef Stroganoff, then you've had this. All that they changed was the name. Don't get me wrong, I like beef Stroganoff. But by the third bite I was literally bored. Shrink's Braised Rabbit in a mushroom vegetable red wine sauce, also over egg noodles was too heavy on the wine sauce, so you could barely taste the rabbit.

My dessert was a Chocolate Mousse Cake based on a recipe by Martha Washington. It was very smooth, very creamy. Not bad. But it wasn't as good as the Apple Cobbler that Bro ordered (again, besting me), though it came with a cinnamon ice cream that I didn't much care for. Mostly this was because the cobbler was already cinnamony and it made the spice too prominent.

I feel like City Tavern is the kind of place that a tourist to Philadelphia might go to after having visited the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall and so forth. It can wrap up the whole colonial experience before moving on to the more modern things that the city has to offer. But I can't envision going here again personally, and I don't see City Tavern a restaurant that would be appealing to anyone who isn't here as a tourist.

Four appetizers, four entrees, four coffees, two desserts and some drinks came to $ after tax and tip.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

FIG & OLIVE

2011-05-11T15:43:00.002-04:00

FIG & OLIVE
10 East 52nd Street
New York, NY 10022
(212) 319-2002

Fig & Olive sits centered at the crossroads of between the midtown corporate district and the midtown hotel district, perfectly located to grab both sets of people looking to spend money, but maybe not go nuts about it. (There are two other locations in NYC, both also in midtown, also located to grab the same clientele.) Since I work in midtown and had relatives coming into town for a few days. This seemed like the perfect place to meet.

Fig & Olive could probably be put in the "Mediterranean Fusion" category, if such a category existed. Think of it as a random assortment of all that is Mediterranean but with a modern twist. Their theme, if one could call it a theme since it's really more of a gimmick, is that they use olive oil in everything that they make. This isn't quite the feat it might appear since I'm pretty sure that all Mediterranean food is required by law to use olive oil in one way or another. Hell, at L'arte de Gelato I've had olive oil gelato (fantastic) and the ancient Romans used olive oil instead of soap. Olive oil is a far from rare ingredient in the cultures surrounding that body of water. The real trick would have been to use figs in every dish. But I digress.

Fig & Olive is two large floors and it needs all the space it can get if the day we ate there is any indication. This particular Thursday they were packing them in, though they had thinned out by the time we had all left. The customers were from a healthy variety across the age spectrum; groups (plural) of 20-something girls, families with little kids, elderly couples. I went with the 'Rents, no spring chickens, one of my cousins and my aunt. An electronica-thumping party zone restaurant like the Spice near Union Square would not have been their cup of tea.

The prix-fix menu was what we all - except my aunt - ordered from. It came with an appetizer, an entree, and a dessert. Since all of the prix-fix dinners were from the regular menu anyway, it made the most sense, financialy. At $38 per person, you basically get dessert free.

My appetizer was the Beef Carpaccio, very thinly sliced raw beef. Fig & Olive drizzled it with a thick balsamic reduction and covered it in shaved Parmesan. Carpaccio is a very light flavor and the bite of the vinegar coupled with the bitterness of the cheese meant that most of its flavor was bullied out of the room. This will disappoint many, however, if you're like Shrink and find the concept of eating uncooked meat troubling, you may prefer it this way. I'd have them halve the toppings though. Shrink ordered the Mediterranean Chicken Samosas. If there was any concern that this would be a spicy dish, one bite put that concern to bed. Mellow versions of Mediterranean food, served with artistic flair is the name of the game at Fig & Olive. So the samosas, while actually very good, were also extremely light. The only way that they could burn your mouth is if you lit them on fire. Dudeman and my cousin ordered soup. She ordered the Provincial Carrot and Thyme Soup, which I did not try but which she said was good and not over-carroty. He got the Northern Italian Mushroom and Truffle Soup, which we agreed was also light (a common theme). While he liked how the mushroom was less a dominant flavor than a partner, I thought it seemed thin, especially since there was nothing partnered with it.

Myself and Shrink both ordered the Grilled Lamb Skewers and Couscous, lamb cubes skewered on rosemary branches and served with yogurt and a side of couscous. Medium rare. The lamb and accompanying vegetables were perfectly tender, perfectly spiced and perfect-tasting. Sadly, the couscous was mediocre and barely worth the effort of eating. My cousin ordered the Grilled Truffle Chicken Palliard, a free-range chicken breast with herbs and spices and served with a mashed potato and leek confit. Again, I didn't stick my fork onto her plate (maybe next time), but she liked it a lot and recommended it. The Salmon a la Andalucia, seared salmon served with zucchini, fennel, tomato and chic peas that my aunt ordered was the best entree of the bunch. It lacked any and all fishiness, was as tender as gelatin and practically dissolved when it hit your tongue. It was what salmon is supposed to be. Dudeman went with the Shrimp and Scallop Paella and found, despite liking the dish as a whole, the portion lacking. Granted, he's probably better off without Applebye's-sized buckets of seasoned rice, but in his defense, two shrimp and two scallops seems somewhat chintzy for what would normally be a $30 entree. I thought it was decent, but it wasn't anything to write home about, either. I think I'm going to stick to my philosophy of only ordering paella in Spanish restaurants (I know, Spain is on the Med).

We tried two different desserts between the five of us, the Dessert Crostini was interesting but unimpressive. A row of shortbread crackers topped with mascarpone, cherry and pistachio couldn't hold a candle to the Chocolate Pot de Creme, which was like having a chocolate bar covered in cream and soft enough to be eaten with a spoon. It was a delicious and an unexpected (but welcome) surprise.

I was disappointed with the service. Normally, I find myself irritated at a waiter's constant attention. In this case though, the staff would vanish into the clear blue sky for a half an hour at a time. On multiple occasions after waiting and waiting I just decided to ask a busboy to hunt our waitress down. But this is a staff issue, not a kitchen one. The food all arrived promptly and at the same time.

Four prix-fix dinners an entree, drinks, and coffees came to $330 after tax and tip.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

PIZZA BY CER TE

2011-05-01T00:44:00.003-04:00

PIZZA by CER TE
132 East 56th Street
New York, NY 10022
(212) 813-2020

Pizza is everywhere in Midtown. From Ray Bari and Sbarro cranking out chain style pies to an ever-growing coterie of 99-cent slice shops churning out pizza that tastes like you've overpaid, to a myriad of generic pie shops, we can now add, with much rejoicing, that Midtown has its own haute pizza. Courtesy of Cer Te, the high end caterers with a shmancy cafe, we can now partake in the joys of pizza that doesn't drip florescent orange grease down your arm while you cross the street eating.

I'm a folder. People who don't fold their slices piss me off. I genuinely find it irritating. Just the other day, I was out with a girl who ate her crust first and I found myself suddenly unable to hear a single word she said. "What are you doing?" I thought. And those out there who whip out knives and forks... don't get me started. However, Cer Te's pizzas are not the typical kind you might find with a line of tourists or a stabbed mobster in front of. Cer Te almost requires that you eat it with a fork and I don't recommend the fold. And despite these shortcomings, I like 'em.

The Italian Wedding is the square slice you see below and comes topped with meatballs, spinach, mozzarella and hot pepper. Fantastic, though small. You can taste each flavor all at the same time without any of them muting the others. I'm pretty sure this defies physics, but there it is. The Shrooms is a pie covered in a blanket of roast wild mushroom, thyme and bechamel. It was unlike any other mushroom slice I'd ever had in that it was basically like a cream of mushroom soup in pizza form. Or a very flat bread bowl. I liked it. The Farmers, while good, was the most disappointing of the four. It was potato, cheddar cheese, scallions and corn. Like the result of a union between grandma's leftover side dish and an extra Boboli, it didn't do much for me. The most traditional slice on the menu is the Margherita Cer Te, and it was without a doubt great. Very sweet sauce, not overwhelmed in greasy cheese, with a nice char to the crust from the brick oven.

Since Cer Te does far more than pizza at its other location, there is a wide range of desserts to choose from as well as a few salads and sandwiches, but ordering that at a pizza joint seems silly to me. They did look good though.

Expect to shell out about $4 to 5 per slice with tax. Pies will be $25 to $30. Don't expect to sit there, as the place is microscopic and the few stools are occupied by people waiting for their orders to be finished.

My biggest complaint is that cardboard box they give you your pizza in. Even if you stay there to eat it, they give you a huge crate to eat it from. Totally wasteful behavior from a restaurant that touts its environmental-friendliness.

MELT SHOP

2011-04-22T00:04:00.022-04:00

MELT SHOP
at the Citigroup Center
601 Lexington Avenue
New York, NY 10017
(212) 579-MELT

Nestled at the foot Citigroup Center, literally under Lexington Avenue, is Midtown's newest food spot, and the lines that spread forth into the plaza clearly demonstrate that it's a much wanted addition. You can't even see the storefront from the street, but that hasn't stopped people from heading there in droves (note, the photo below was taken at around 2:30pm, well after lunch). Melt Shop is the name and grilled cheese is the game. I grew up with grilled cheese sandwiches, as did pretty much everyone I know. They were a staple of my childhood and they've come to roost right here on 54th Street.

The Melt Shop menu focuses on varieties of the original grilled cheese and they go way beyond the tuna melt, though they have that, too. Roast beef, fried chicken, gruyere cheese, caramelized onions... the ingredient list takes the grill cheese away from its humble country-fried roots and into the cosmopolitan hub of New York. But of course, you have to start with the humble, country fried roots. And thusly did I first try The Classic. White bread, American cheese, pan fried. It's exactly the same way mom used to make, except that they used salted butter. By the way, "exactly the way mom used to make" ain't a bad thing. It means perfect. Following that, I pimped it out by getting all the additions I could dumped into it. I'll term it The Classic (Plus), but I hope that they'll name it after me. The classic plus tomato, caramelized onions and bacon. A. Maze. Ing. I love this. Like the classic on steroids. Or ecstacy. Beef 'N' Blue: roast beef, blue cheese, caramelized onions, horseradish on sourdough. Very good. Tangy blue cheese, some nose twitching horseradish. It was literally, one of the best warm sandwiches I've had in years. Buttermilk Fried Chicken Melt: buttermilk fried chicken, jalapeno-jack cheese, red cabbage cole slaw and melt sauce (whatever that is) on white bread. While still pretty good, this was the least impressive. The chicken got lost in the slaw and sauce and spice of the jalapeno.

Melt Shop, while not "expensive" in terms of real dollars, is pricey from a relative standpoint. The sandwiches, before tax, are about eight bucks. A Stumptown coffee milkshake is $5.50. They also serve breakfast.

HILL COUNTRY CHICKEN

2011-04-13T19:00:00.004-04:00

HILL COUNTRY CHICKEN
1123 Broadway
New York, NY 10010
(212) 257-6446

With the success of Hill Country Barbecue comes Hill Country Chicken, the second installment of good ol' boy soul food inspired by the Duke brothers, across the street from Madison Square Park on 25th Street and Broadway. This homage to depression era-greasy spoons is within spitting distance of the upscale food court Eataly, and if I had to choose between the two, I'd easily choose Hill Country.

There's no table service and with the downstairs closed at the time that I was there, not many tables, either. Everything is pre-made so you order your meal fast-food style. The thing is, there are so many people coming and going, sitting or taking their meal to go, that you're guaranteed to get the food fresh. The modern chandeliers and the credit card machines are the only things here that feel new. The floors are the yellow tile that remind one of an abandoned Waffle House and the tables are the faux-marble formica kind that Dwight Eisenhower's mom would have sat at while reading the Kansas Star Tribune.

You can get legs and thighs if you want to go the traditional route, but most people I saw were ordering the Texas Tenders baskets. They come in baskets of three, five or ten. I ordered the three. They. Were. Perfect. The batter was slightly flaky, but not crumbling-all-over-the-plate so and just slightly sweet. Inside, the chicken was about as far from dried out as one can get. You can choose from a honey mustard sauce, a barbecue sauce, or a ranch dressing sauce to dip the tenders in, but I almost say don't bother. Instead, head to the fixings station and grab a little hot sauce and honey. You won't regret it. The Buttermilk Biscuit was a natural accompaniment to the fried chicken, but was a little dry. If they had any butter, I'd have used it. Instead, I dipped it in the 'cue and some honey. Hill Country's side of Cole Slaw, which they give you a scoop the size of a baseball, was mediocre and tasteless. I washed all this down with a can of beer.

I returned the following day and ordered a Texas Hand Roll (and French Fries and a Pabst). Fried chicken, coleslaw, sweet and sour sauce, sesame seeds and almonds wrapped in a wrap. It was a little sweet... but awesome. Give it a healthy dose of hot sauce and you'll be in floating on cloud nine. The "small" size fries are huge. Huge and delicious. Slightly soggy, but so good. Perfectly salted.

Something Hill Country prides itself in are its pies. I tried two. First, the Bourbon Pecan Pie, which was so good it should be illegal, and, in keeping with the boozy theme, I followed that up with a slice of the Whiskey Buttermilk Pie. I wasn't sure what to expect, but my God. Smooth, sweet, heavenly.

Hill Country fools you into feeling cheaper than it is. You look at the menu and go "hey, that ain't too bad!" But the trick is that everything is a la carte. Everything is extra. A fried chicken breast is $5.50 and a wing is $1.75 with drumsticks and thighs in-between. If you were to order enough to piece together your own chicken, it would run you $26.

My dinner, a three-piece chicken tenders, plus the biscuit, plus the cole slaw, plus one can of beer, plus a slice of pie (plus tax) was about $24.

BLUE WATER GRILL

2011-04-08T14:31:00.005-04:00

BLUE WATER GRILL

31 Union Square West
New York, NY 10003
(212) 675-9500

Speeds' birthday was around the corner and since she wasn't planning to be in the city, let alone have a party, so I decided to take her to Blue Water Grill. We both like seafood, and should the name have failed to tip you off, that's what they do. If Blue Water Grill, with it's huge marble ionic columns, flowing blue flag and enough brass to rim a battleship creates the assumption that it's a pricey joint, then let me put that assumption to rest. It is. Appetizers average $15 and entrees average $28.

Blue Water Grill is an exemplar of the diversity of Union Square. Alongside the Union Square Cafe, it's about as traditional a dining experience as New York can offer. Meanwhile, Coffee Shop and Republic attract the young and the trendy. Between them all is McDonald's. The park is the home to a hundred starving artists selling paintings and legitimately-starving homeless selling nothing. The park is also home to the largest green-market in the city.

Blue Water Grill is huge. It's three floors and has live jazz every day. We got there relatively early, around 6:30 and they filled up almost completely by 8. Shockingly, this was on a Tuesday. It blows me away that restaurants which are far more affordable and which occupy a fraction of the real estate are dropping like flies across the city, but Blue Water Grill is still packing them in. Yet packing them in they were.

We started out with a half-dozen Oregon Kumamoto Oysters and a Lobster Bisque. Kumamoto oysters are small, very light, and just about salt-free. These are far removed from the large, briny east-coast oysters you find at most raw bars. The lobster bisque was excellent and would have been more so, except that it was served with these little leek and lobster beignets which really didn't belong. It tasted like a lobster-flavored dough ball... which is exactly what it was, and I could have done without them. I recommend the bisque, I just also happen to recommend picking these out.

My entree was the Sesame Crusted Big Eye Tuna with a tahini spinach and Asian pears in a miso broth. On the one hand, it was very good, on the other, the chef went a little overboard with the sesame crust miso soup that it sat in. Still, overall, quite good. Speeds ordered the Pecan Crusted Mahi-Mahi served with butternut squash, cavalero nero (which, on the menu was oddly misspelled as cavalnero) a spinach-like dark green vegetable in a pancetta sage vinaigrette. The cavalero was oddly dry, almost like a sheet of seaweed, which maybe was intentional, but I didn't care for it that way. Other than that, the mahi-mahi was excellent. It's a very mild fish and pairing it with the butternut squash puree could either be viewed as either overpowering its flavor or as a much-needed accompaniment.

For dessert we split the Warm Molten Chocolate Cake, which came crowned by a malt crunch ice cream, which was fantastic; like eating an ice cream made from the crispy part of a Nestle Crunch bar. Meanwhile, the cake, which was closer to a brownie in texture than to cake and which bled across the plate, was just what I wanted with my coffee to round out the meal. It wasn't too sweet or too dark, too rich or too light. It was probably the best chocolate cake I've had this year.

A half-dozen oysters, a soup, two entrees, two drinks, two coffees and a dessert, plus tax, plus tip, totaled $153.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

SALT & FAT

2011-03-31T21:12:00.012-04:00

SALT & FAT
44-16 Queens Boulevard
Sunnyside, NY 11104
(718) 433-3702

Sunnyside has seen an explosion of restaurants in the last few years. Frankly, it's embarrassing how many new places have sprouted up since I live in Forest Hills, the Queens nabe which should be the premier place to set up a restaurant given the express subways, the LIRR, and the amount of money the area has. Oh well. 'Tis not to be... yet. In the meantime, along hath come Salt & Fat, a small plates restaurant right off the 7 Train that focuses almost to a crazy degree, on pork. If you don't like pork or won't eat it for religious reasons, you might as well just skip off to some other blog, because, odds are, you won't read about anything you can eat here. If, however, you like pork, even in your popcorn, then read on, dear reader, read on.

Upon entering this otherwise not-too-big establishment, you will be given not bread, but bacon popcorn. Yes, bacon popcorn. Essentially, it's popcorn popped in bacon fat which leaves it a hint of what you might otherwise get at breakfast while spending the weekend with your parents. Pike, who I went here with, thought they should drizzle bacon fat on the bag they give you like it was butter, then maybe tossing in Bacos. To seal the deal. Personally, I think this goes a wee bit overboard, but you get the idea. They have a bit of a pork fetish.

As I said, Salt & Fat is a small plates place, and though they do have three regular entrees, Pike and I stuck with the smaller, appetizer sized ones. We ordered eight. This was too many. In retrospect, three each would be wise. Four each, even though split in half, was enough to make us feel a little ill. In any event, here's what we ordered, in the order in which we ordered them.

First up, the Meatballs. Holy shit, were these sick. Absolutely disgustingly good. A blend of beef, pork and (unfortunately) veal, and topped with a light and sweet and flat-out perfect sauce, we couldn't say enough good things about this dish. This was followed by the Korean BBQ Wraps, super-fresh lettuce around a filling of hangar steak pickled onion and spicy mayonnaise. Very good, but mild. It's small and you'll eat the whole plate of them before you realize that there was ever a plate in front of you.

The Braised Pork Belly Tacos, with pico de gallo, kimchi salsa and cheese came next. Although Pike didn't mind it, I didn't much like the dish at all. The pork belly was virtually all fat and it was a bit like eating a slime taco. The server suggested we sprinkle the jalapenos into it and this made the dish far more tolerable. Luckily, the tacos were followed by the Hampshire Pulled-Pork Sliders, shredded pork in a barbecue sauce with pickles. And these, my friends, were fantastic. Not too sloppy, not too dry, just the perfect amount of melt in your mouth pork in a sweet bun.

The next set of two plates started with the Oxtail Terrine, a cube of shredded oxtail meat in a caramelized onion puree with roast mushroom. This was the one dish that really isn't made to be shared. We cut it in half, but I think you should order two. And by that I mean: don't go to Salt & Fat without ordering the oxtail! It was, in my mind, easily the best part of the experience here. We followed it up with the Crack & Cheese, fried potato gnocchi in a cheese bechemel sauce with bacon. This customized version of the mac and cheese was good, but not overwhelmingly great. It was heavy, but the gnocchi was extremely smooth. The cheese sauce was pleasant and it was a nice change from the comfort food we all know and love, but I felt that topping it off with bacon unnecessary. The bacon didn't add anything and I found myself picking around it.

By the time we finished the Crack & Cheese, we were starting to feel the food catching up with us. But it was already too late. There was still a final round. The Prince Edward Island Mussels had arrived. They were mediocre. Served in a Thai oyster sauce with dashi and Chinese sausage, they, while not bad, are no competition to the more traditional kind you might find at a Belgian restaurant made with white wine, cream and shallots. The sauce didn't have very much bite and, as with the bacon in the Crack & Cheese, the sausage was completely unnecessary and left almost completely uneaten.Last but not least arrived the Short Rib Buns, rib meat in an Asian bun taco with pickled cuke and apricot mustard. Pike and I both wished we ordered these earlier. They were good, but we were too full to enjoy them. By the time we each ate one, all we wanted to do was take a nap under the table.

Actually, all we wanted to do was wash everything down with a coffee, but the waitress told us "sorry, we don't serve any hot beverages." I've never heard of a restaurant with a policy of not having coffee or tea since it's pretty much the same thing as minting money. No matter how full you are, if you like coffee, you'll order a coffee and be more than happy to pay two bucks for thirty cents worth of food. Pike predicts that this policy will change soon once the owners do the financial math. In any event, I overall had a great time here and highly recommend the restaurant. It's nice to see Queens getting the kind of place that, typically, would be reserved for Brooklyn.

Eight small plates, plus tax and tip and two sodas came to just a hair under $100.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

116 CROWN

2011-03-29T15:18:00.002-04:00

116 CROWN
116 Crown Street
New Haven, CT 06510
(203) 777-3116

With Operagirl having returned from doing the opera thing in Italy, I thought it was a good time to drive north to New Haven. Our plan was a simple one. First go see a terrible movie then go find a good place to get our drink on and badmouth it? Operagirl is aware of my love of cocktails, the speakeasier, the better, and suggested 116 Crown in downtown near her place. While 116 Crown isn't really a speakeasy (think fancy hotel bar in a fancy hotel, it's closer to a cocktail club/wine bar) it fit the bill nicely. It's half priced bottles of wine on Sunday didn't hurt either.

It was weird ordering drinks while the sun still shone, but it didn't stop us. We had Red Riding Hood to mock (ugh, using any objective standard and every subjective one, this was a terrible movie). We sat at a table in the back, instead of in the little booth kiosks buried in the wall at the front and instead of at the long bar, back-lit to look like a huge glowing slab of concrete.

Our first round was better than our second one. I ordered the Pimm's Cup, Pimm's Number 1, ginger ale, lemon juice, muddled mint and muddled cucumber. It looks like a rotting salad but tastes like a light, cucumbery mojito. It was fantastic. Operagirl got the Four Thieves, blueberry-infused vodka, lemon juice, simple syrup and lavender and was like a spiked blueberry lemonade. Next she ordered the Branch & Vine, Chardonnay, grapefruit juice and vodka. She took a sip and immediately asked to trade me for my New Black, creme de cassis, gin, campari, lime juice and mint. This was dark and syrupy, sweet and bitter. Better by miles than her drink, but not quite as good as the Four Thieves.

I always recommend ordering some food while you're drinking. We ordered a Three-Cheese Cheese Plate. There are a selection of cheeses to choose from and we opted for the Tallegio, the Stilton and the Manchego. On the huge wood block the cheese comes with bread, house made herbal butter, grapes and a pear jam. We also ordered a round of Olives, typically great cocktail/wine bar food. Regrettably, these, while huge, were mostly pit and you spend far too much time fighting the olive instead of enjoying it.

116 Crown has actual food, too. Operagirl and I decided to stick around later than we thought we would simply because we couldn't think of any good reason to leave (other than to save money). It was Sunday, so we took 116 up on their half-priced bottle of vino. We chose a Spanish white to be served alongside our Brick Oven Roasted Chicken For Two, served with potatoes and brussels sprouts. It was good, but not great. Operagirl liked it far more than I did. The skin wasn't crisp enough so there was a layer of fat I could have done without. Probably a few more degrees in the oven would have helped in that regard. Where 116 succeeds most highly is when it doesn't stretch too far from being a wine bar. Since you wouldn't order a chicken at a wine bar, I don't suggest ordering it here (likewise, no wine bar would pour grapefruit juice and vodka into their chardonnay).

I ordered a fifth cocktail after dinner but by this point, do you really expect me to remember what it was?

Cocktails cost about $10-12. Our three-cheese cheese plate is $14. The roast chicken dinner for two is $32.

ZAITZEFF

2011-03-14T19:14:00.008-04:00

ZAITZEFF
72 Nassau Street
New York, NY 10038
(212) 571-7272

Hamburger joints have been spreading across NYC almost to the point that they're becoming like pizza. Well... not really. But they're are a whole lot of them now and there didn't used to be when I was growing up. Zaitzeff represents the new breed of upscale, luxury hamburgers, where Kobe beef is on the menu and it doesn't even raise an eyebrow. I stopped into Zaitzeff's Financial District location (they also have in the East Village and East Midtown. Clearly they like the 6 train) for lunch today and last week to partake in their fare.

Zaitzeff is small. Four tables and expect to share them with your fellow diners. Upbeat jazz plays loudly to blur conversation and the line can be long. People coming in with orders to go cram up against people like me, who hope that a seat opens up in time. Financial District is a good place for Zaitzeff and restaurants like it. Tourists are everywhere (in fact, Zaitzeff seems to attract a lot of French ones. Or Canadian ones. Or maybe recent Tunisian expats.) along with business folks and a growing residential community. Plus, and let's be honest, FiDi has its share of seediness. Extra-cheap suit stores, we-buy-gold places, and cellphone repair hole-in-the-walls are everywhere. Finding a decent place to eat that isn't either a chain with a homeless person awkwardly offering to play doorman for you, a diner, or that caters to a corporate account clientele is like finding a needle in a haystack.

The menu here consists of hamburgers, a few sandwiches (three, actually), some sides and some salads. There's also serve beer and wine. To be sure, on my first visit, I sat next to a couple eating their burgers while sipping on some large glasses of red. One sandwich I tried was the Organic Chicken Breast Sandwich, a grilled chicken breast with lettuce and tomato, onion, mayo, and mustard. It was perfection except that it had the bad habit of falling apart. They should give you a fork, too. The mustard gave it bite, but it was mellowed out by the sweet sugar from the caramelized grilled onion. Every sandwich comes on a Portuguese roll, including the burgers. It was a nice touch. This makes the burgers considerably sweeter than they would be in a standard bun. And I'm sure it makes it easier to charge twice what you'd pay for something similarly sized at Wendy's. I also tried their Sirloin Sliders, three smallish hamburgers served with grilled onions and melted cheddar cheese. No lettuce or tomato, but I think they were probably better that way. Oh man, was that good. I almost don't want to return to get the Kobe burger because I doubt it can live up to the sliders. But I will.

The chicken sandwich and the sliders were each about $13, plus tax. Regular Sirloin hamburgers are about $9 for the quarter pounder and $14 for the half pounder. The Kobe is slightly more. The turkey is slightly less.

GLAZE TERIYAKI GRILL

2011-03-08T18:46:00.012-05:00

GLAZE TERIYAKI GRILL

638 Lexington Avenue
New York, NY 10022
(212) 935-3400

Finding lunch in Midtown usually entails an overpriced salad at Pax, a salty soup at Hale & Hearty or some sort of salad bar trough-food. Or a sandwich from just about everyone. In short, lunch is dull. With Glaze right near my office, a little fresh air of variety has been added.

As the name implies, Glaze does teriyaki. More specifically, a Korean/Japanese blend of teriyaki. Teriyaki beef, teriyaki salmon, teriyakeitofu... I suppose that their main competition would be the Teriyaki Boy chain, but less schlocky and more chic. And it helps that they taste better, too. I won't go into the eatery's resume. Plenty of others have already written about its localvore philosophy and the chef's background at Rosa Mexicano. I'm more interested in what they're making and how well it's made than I am in regurgitating a press release.

In the past couple of weeks, I've wandered into Glaze about a half dozen times and tried a good chunk of their menu. So far, every dish I've had has been impressively good. And hey, it always feels nice to be able to watch the staff actually preparing the food fresh in the open kitchen. The weakest link so far has been their Miso Soup, which, being loaded with mushrooms and scallions and greens, has the potential to be the best miso soup I can remember having. The only downside is that they use far too much miso resulting in a rather salty broth. If they cut that down... likewise, Glaze tends to go overboard on the teriyaki sauce. I typically ask them for half the norm because otherwise you run the risk of barely being able to taste the otherwise perfectly charcoal-grilled food it glazes.

I've had their Chicken Thigh (dark meat), Chicken Breast (white meat), Pork Loin, Tofu, and Sirloin. All come with a choice of white or brown rice (though who would choose to order white rice with this dish is a mystery to me) and a small side salad. Glaze is open through the dinner hours, which is great on those days when I'm working through the setting sun, but it really isn't set up as a "restaurant". I wouldn't go here on a date unless I was hitting on a co-worker. It's small, well lit, with no table service and in the winter, I'd leave my coat on. It gets quite drafty in there.

Expect to pay about $12 for a meal here, with a drink and after tax.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

LOUIS 649

2011-03-01T11:00:00.004-05:00

LOUIS 649
649 East Ninth Street
New York, NY 10009
(212) 673-1190

The public sphere of the NYC cocktail/speakeasy scene has been dominated by the same few bars that GQ seems to bar-crawl year after year: PDT, Milk & Honey, Death & Company, Pegu Club, et al. Rare is it that you ever learn of the lesser-known establishments. They're there, but they aren't sexy enough to fit well into a PR/publications system that seems to inch closer and closer to payola with every passing day. Louis 649 is like the indie band that you learned about at a friend-of-a-friend's house but never hear on the radio.

Louis 649 is small, but not microscopic. They're not faux-hidden like Raines Law Room, but they're no bright Times Square Olive Garden, either. They have a relatively large menu with pages of various rums and whiskeys (over 30 of them, sold by the ounce) and beers and cocktails (a little something for everyone) and while that menu includes sandwiches and snacks, I'd probably eschew having any real "dinner" there. Louis 649 is virtually deserted until 10 (another customer was reading a book in the corner while I was there), at which point they fill up like a playground at recess. Get there early for a table. There's a relaxed casualness about Louis 649 that the other speakeasies don't have. The candles are dirty and the jazz played is smokey. It's like a dive bar with high end cocktails and microbrews, populated by a staff of bearded, plaid-wearing Oregonians. Our server, Shani, was clearly not a bearded, plaid-wearing Oregonian, but she was super nice, super unpretentious, and I feel the need to give her a shout out.

Bro and I arrived at around 830, initially worried that we would be fighting for a seat. But, like I said, they don't fill until 10, so sitting at a good table wasn't a problem. He ordered a sandwich (beef something-or-other) which he thought was decent. But it wasn't why we were here and in time, and after a few rounds, we left for a fried chicken feast at Redhead. No, we were here for some drinks. And of those there were a-plenty.

Round 1 (above): I ordered the Melee: gin, Meletti Amaro, Fino Sherry, and Cherry Heering liqueur combined to make a sweet, but not overly-so cocktail that tastes so little like anything alcoholic that, if not for the price, you could easily drink ten of them without even thinking about it. Bro went with the C.S. Louis: Rum, Batavia Arrack, lime juice, falernum. Another sweet drink made with two kinds of rum and spiced up with the falernum. Slightly sour.

Round 2 (below): Bro and I coincidentally stuck with the same color scheme. I ordered the A La Louisiane: rye, Benedictine, sweet vermouth, absinthe, Peychaud's bitters. Traditionally, a cocktail can only be a cocktail (instead of a mixed drink) if it contained alcohol, sugar, and bitters, so this hit the classic cocktail requirements square on the nose. The absinthe gave it that licorice/fennel taste that can be overwhelming. Here, it just have off a hint if that. The Benedictine rounded out the rye whiskey with some sugar and made it a bit lighter. Bro wasn't a big fan, but I liked it as something you can sit and relax while drinking. The Melee was good, but it was very nearly punch. Bro's choice was the Twentieth Century: gin, lilet blanc, lemon juice, and creme de cacao. Smooth and fruity with a little bit of a tanginess. While I liked both, Bro preferred this over my drink. They are two extremely different flavors, to be sure.

Finally, we rounded things out with a beer each from Colorado's Avery Brewery. A citrusy White Rascal for bro and an oatmealy Ellies Brown Ale for me.

Cocktails cost $13. Beers were around $7.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

STEVE'S AUTHENTIC KEY LIME PIES

2011-02-21T11:17:00.003-05:00

STEVE'S AUTHENTIC KEY LIME PIES
204 Van Dyke Street
Brooklyn, NY 11231
(718) 858-5333

An unseasonably hot day last week found me in Red Hook wandering aimlessly from renovated warehouses to dilapidated shanties on the verge of collapse. Red Hook has been on the way up in the last few years and those shanties are getting harder and harder to come by. In fact, Red Hook's own Fort Defiance was named my restaurant of the year for 2010. This particular lay afternoon found me on the far end of Van Dyke Street. If you go as far as you possibly can, until your very next step would land you in the briny seas, then you have reached Steve's Authentic Key Lime Pies.

Nestled in this red brick building are several small art businesses (florists, sculptors, etc.) and Steve, or his bakery anyway, is among them inside the door marked "Pies Here". Walk in and up to the counter filled to capacity with toys and assorted brightly-colored cutesies. Today, Steve's was deserted. There was no one to be seen, no one to even be heard. A sign instructs you to ring a bell and, if no one hears that one, to ring an even bigger one. I rang. A smiling little girl emerged, took my order, and disappeared back into the kitchen.

If variety is the spice of any life you might lead, you won't find it here. Steve's makes key lime pie. Not key lime pie with Oreos, not key lime smoothies, not key lime tea, not lime cake decorated with edible keys. Key lime pie, in various sizes ($25 for a ten-incher) with one exception. I ordered a small four inch Tart and I ordered the exception, a Swingle, where they take one of those said tarts and dunk it in dark chocolate.

There's no place inside to sit, but there are a couple of picnic benches outside, as well as a rickety bistro table long-since harvested from a brasserie's yard sale. The sea wind, coupled with the complete isolated silence of the area - literally, there wasn't even the sound of traffic - made me crave a coffee to drink along with my pies. Give me a coffee and a book and I could have sat there for an hour. Meditative would be a good word.

Oh right, the pies. I liked them. Smooth and sharply tangy. Steve's has been the recipients of a hundred write ups by now and I'd certainly return, but they're no replacement for the ones I had in college on spring break in the real Key West. The ones there were more mellow. I preferred their regular pie to the swingle, even though I really liked the idea of dunking a key lime tart in more sugar, but the dark chocolate overwhelmed the pie. Tarts were $4, swingles were $5. I imagine that in the summer, this place must be a mob scene and the line must be out the door. I guess I'll have to find out.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

M. WELLS

2011-02-16T15:56:00.015-05:00

MAGASIN WELLS DINER
21-17 49th Avenue
Long Island City, NY 11101
(718) 435-6917

For a long time, an abandoned and derelict diner stood by the entrance of the Hunter's Point 7 Train on the edge of Long Island City. It was the kind of diner that Southerners buy up and truck off to one of those "take me back to the good old days of the Fonz because the best years of America are behind us and now all we have are sin and foreigners" theme parks in Florida. In fact, even though multi-million dollar condos are sprouting like weeds within a ten minute walk in just about any direction, the rest of the block is still derelict. But now there's M. Wells, a "Quebeco-American 'Diner'" renovating the culinary landscape.

Okay, so M. Wells calls itself a diner. Uhhh... no. Let's get past the exterior, the stool seating and the handful of booths and really ask ourselves "how many diners serve escargot with a bone marrow glaze?" Sure, there's fish and chips and eggs, but I didn't see any line cooks, I didn't smell any bacon, and I didn't taste any diner coffee. I got the impression that the chrome shell really housed an experiment by a crew of post-culinary school hipsters in which they raise a collective middle finger to the establishment of mainstream brasseries. No big kitchens, no host, no master chef throwing stale rolls at underlings in fits of rage. It seemed - though I could be totally wrong here since I'm no reporter and didn't talk to to anyone but my waiter - like a collective of people doing what they loved to do (cooking), their way, at their pace. Oh, and doing it by 4pm because that's when they close and head home.

Yep, Magasin Wells is strictly a lunch joint. 11AM to 4pm every day but Monday, when they aren't open at all. So I scheduled myself for two days around a 7 Train jaunt to LIC and plopped myself on a stool at the counter. Get there early. Both days that I ate here, a sizeable chunk of the menu had already been wiped out.

I started one meal with the Parsnip Soup (sans optional fois gras). Distinctly parsnippy, with a hint of fresh pepper and parsley, this soup was smoother than cream. I've never had a soup, in my life mind you, as smooth as this. It was thick, but light. It tasted fabulous and I can imagine that it tastes even better in the fall when the palate for root vegetables is more in vogue. My other meal was begun with the Escargot and Bone Marrow. The escargot is literally served in the trough of a split cow bone under a dusting of pesto and garlic and under a drizzle of a red wine sauce. If you're like me and come to expect your escargots floating in a sea of butter, then you're in for a new experience. This is not that. This is actually better and I never thought I'd say that. The downside is that you don't really get much. A few bites at best, even when you smear the combination of snail, marrow and fat onto toast.

The M. Wells Hamburger is a mixture of beef and lamb grilled and served on a brioche roll with a tangy chili mayo, arugula and onions. The beef/lamb burger has a little extra nuance than a standard beef burger does, but it's a bit gamier than I was expecting and doesn't have quite the richness of flavor. This was unfortunately over-compensated for with too much sea-salt, which I noticed right away. I ordered a side of French Fries, which cost a few extra loonies. They're Belgian-style thin-cut fries and were fine. Nothing amazing. I nibbled on them while I read a book. The Seafood Cobbler, my other main course was far heavier than a hamburger and fries could ever hope to be. M. Wells takes haddock or cod or some such white fish, places it over a bed of Brussels sprouts, then buries it in bechamel sauce, tops it with biscuits and Gruyere cheese and then bakes it. Yes, this was heaven incarnate, but it was hard to walk to the subway afterward.

M. Wells can call itself a diner all it wants, but it's not cheap like one. If it was open for dinner, then I'd drop it down to only three dollar signs, but for lunch, it gets four. Lunch, with a drink and tax and tip can be expected to range between $20 and $40.

PING'S

2011-02-08T12:01:00.002-05:00

PING'S
83-02 Queens Boulevard
Elmhurst, NY 11373
(718) 396-1238

The year of the rabbit has emerged. My family's Judeo-Christian tradition dictates that on Chinese New Year we eat whatever animal the year has transferred over to. When it was the year of the dragon, we broke into the Bronx Zoo to liberate komodos... into our crock pot. 2010 proved to be far easier thanks to Ping's on Queens Boulevard, who've provided some new years specials to feed our world-weary souls.

There are three Ping's locations: Chinatown, Flushing, and Elmhurst. Dudeman and Shrink found me at a corner table of the Elmhurst one, drinking boiling hot jasmine tea and snapping interior photos. I was lucky enough to land us one of the more small tables on the edge. Most of Ping's has tables seating 10. And most of those were filled when I got there. It was a madhouse. There was no music but it was loud. People screaming across tables, screaming orders at waiters... lots of yelling. The lights were bright and the flat-screen TVs alternated between Chinese cooking programs and Chinese cartoons.

Like just about every Chinese restaurant of comparable size and reputation, Ping's has tanks of live fish, which, alongside their duck, will be served whole. The 'Rents and I weren't hankering to decapitate anything this particular evening though, and so we stuck to scanning the menu, like we would anywhere else. Passing over the $75 shark fin soup and whole plates of sauteed duck tongues, we ordered a range of dumplings to split.

First to arrive were the Mixed Seafood Dumplings, which the 'Rents enjoyed far more than I did. Indeed, they liked them a lot. I found them too fishy. Perhaps, in retrospect, this should have been obvious. They were followed by the Steamed Vegetable Dumplings, which I thought were fine, but the 'Rents didn't like at all. Too bland, they said. Again, perhaps, we should have seen this coming. In my opinion, they tasted like what you'd get if you turned minestrone soup into a dumping. Next to arrive, the Pan Fried Pork and Shrimp Dumplings alongside the Pan Fried Chives and Shrimp Dumplings. Both were delicious, though my parents enjoyed the pork-shrimp ones more. I was more partial to the chives-shrimp.

Hot on the dumpling tails came our final starter, the Barbecued Honey Quail. We ordered three of them, since there's really no way to split a bird the size of a golf ball between three people. And at $3 each, we weren't breaking the bank here. Imagine eating a very small duck and that's the gist of eating quail. And don't feel bad using your fingers. You'll need them to eat this and they supply wet-naps for a reason.

The food started coming fast and hot after the quail arrived. We were barely able to finish when the main course Dudeman picked, the Sliced Abalone Braised with E-Fu Noodle arrived with its three sharing bowls found its way to our table (all of the dishes are intended to be shared). Abalone is a cough-cough shaped fist-sized sea snail with an extremely light flavor and the texture of a wet sauteed mushroom. This particular noodle dish was very tasty, but somewhat light on abalone. I'd definitely get it again, but I'd really like there to be more meat in it, so to speak. A solid 85% of the dish was noodle and we ended up leaving a vast majority of the dish untouched once we ran out of abalone and sauce. My pick was the Sauteed Fresh Frog in Two Kinds of Flavor. For the record, I don't know what those two flavors were, since they don't say, but if my dining out history has taught me anything, it's that one of the flavors was garlic sauce and the other was funnel cake. Seriously, I was thinking about powdered sugar the entire time. Frog, as I've said many a time to many a person, tastes like a cross between chicken and fish. It's not really an acquired taste since you can almost think you've already eaten it. Frog's main problem is that it's extremely bony.

This being the year of the rabbit, Pings had two rabbit specials on the menu, one of which Shrink ordered, the Sauteed Fresh Shredded Rabbit Meat and Asian Mushrooms in Ping's Special Sauce. I always get a laugh at the mystery sauces that Chinese restaurants add to their food and Ping's was no different. Whatever Ping's mystery special sauce was, it was basically the same sauce that you get when you order beef with scallions. But that's because this rabbit dish was the beef with scallions dish, just with mushrooms as well, and served in a cute edible basket. It was also the best dish of the night. Simply fantastic. It was the kind of food you could find yourself addicted to.

We weren't offered a dessert menu, but neither did we ask for one. The check came with fortune cookies and orange slices.

Four orders of dumplings, three quail, and three entrees, plus tax and tip came to $127.

If you're thinking it's a somewhat inconvenient location, Ping's right by the Grand Avenue R/M Train and the restaurant also has a parking lot.

HIMALAYAN YAK

2011-02-01T10:03:00.005-05:00

HIMALAYAN YAK
72-20 Roosevelt Avenue
Jackson Heights, NY 11372
(718) 779-1119

Of all of the great things about living in a global city, access to cuisines from every corner of said globe has to be one of them. Nepali food is probably not the first thing you'd think of when your friends call hankering for dinner. In fact, if they're like some of the people that I know, the only thing they're ever in the mood for is either Italian or Mexican. I call these people boring. Therefore, I was very pleased when Seth displayed an unexpected eagerness when I suggested grabbing the F train to Jackson Heights to try out Himalayan Yak.

This particular night it was frigid out. Ten degrees if we were lucky and easily arctic-esque with the wind. Thank goodness that Himalayan Yak's front door is only about two blocks from the Roosevelt Avenue subway hub. The interior of Himalayan Yak is a simple one. No frills chairs and tables. Some Nepali art. A television running a documentary on life in the Himalayas plays silently by the door (nothing about Yetis). Traditional might be a good way to think about the interior design. There was nothing crazy or artsy about its decor, in contrast to KyoChon, and there was nothing artsy about the way that the food was displayed on the plate, in contrast to Aja. Himalayan Yak isn't the cool trendy place you're going to go to if you're trying to impress that FIT girl you've been flirting with. Himalayan Yak is where you'd go when you want to try something different. Oddly, "different" didn't include yak, which we looked for on the menu, but couldn't find. We'd have to make do.

My meal started with Chasa Kho-wa, a chicken corn soup. I needed soup. It was too cold outside not to be ingesting hot liquid to thaw me out. The soup was pretty good. I was initially disappointed because it felt thin. But a few spoonfuls in, I learned that there was a lot of flavor packed into that bowl. If Himalayan Yak had a flaw, it was their timing. Virtually everything came at once, except for Seth's main course, which arrived very late in the game. We were sharing everything, so no big deal, but we had started to wonder if it was forgotten.

Seth's appetizer was the Sandeko Bandel, strips of wild boar (looking like thick bacon) with a lemon dressing. Neither of us cared for this very much. The boar was far too fatty and there was a strip of skin on the outer side which was about as tough as a leather belt. It was impossible to bite through and none-too-appetizing once you did. We don't recommend this. My appetizer was, interestingly, the exact opposite. While we both thought we'd like the boar, but did not, we both expected to hate what I ordered, only to find ourselves pleasantly surprised. I ordered the Bhutan, goat intestines and livers and other random organs ground up and stir fried with spices. It was actually pretty damn good. Especially with the green tomato sauce they have handy. I never thought I'd be wiping clean a plate of goat entrails, but hey, goes to show. Never say never.

Sticking with the things I couldn't normally find elsewhere, I ordered the Gyuma. Gyuma is a Nepali blood sausage made with ground beef and spices and, well, a hearty filling of blood. It's pictured above and, as you can see, if it sounds gross, it's even less appetizing to look at. But again, looks aren't everything. Sometimes personality counts, too. And this was surprisingly tasty as well. Not fantastic, but pretty good, especially, again, with the green apple sauce or their hot sauce. But the Gyuma is very heavy. I put away about four or five of the slices before I just about exploded. Seth had two or three. Seth chose a safer route, ordering the Shagok Ngopa with Beef. It's a beef and vegetable stir-fry in a sweet garlic-ginger sauce, served with a Nepali style steamed bun. We concurred about the taste. It was not bad, but it was generic. It was the kind of dish you might see being ordered as takeout somewhere. The steamed bun had a white rice blandness to it. It's a vehicle for mopping up sauce, not something to be eaten on its own.

Nepali food is like a cross between Chinese and Indian (in fact, Himalayan Yak has an Indian menu), so if you or your friends want to try something different, but somewhere that you know has a few safe dishes, that has a menu with prices that are easy on the wallet, Himalayan Yak should be on your short list.

1 soup, 2 appetizers, 2 entrees, and 2 beers came to about $43 plus tax, plus tip.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

MEATBALL SHOP

2011-01-24T12:01:00.001-05:00

MEATBALL SHOP

84 Stanton Street

New York, NY 10002

(212) 982-8895

I trudged through the snow and slush to Epstein's Bar on Stanton to meet up with the girl who writes the blog Snackish.com. Let's call her Snackish for the sake of argument. She had already put our names on the waiting list at Meatball Shop next door and was awaiting a phone call telling us that our table was ready. Meatball Shop is the recently opened comfort food restaurant on Stanton that serves a menu made up just about entirely of meatballs. It's a popular place with waits sometimes exceeding two hours. Snackish tried valiantly in the past to endure the wait, but couldn't bring herself to. After all, in the East Village, with restaurants ever two feet, finding somewhere else to eat is hardly a difficult task. This time, with a fellow foodie in tow, she was determined to succeed. We had to know. Is it worth that kind of wait? Clearly, there was hype to be investigated and who better to investigate it than semi-professional eaters like us?

I almost never eat out with other food bloggers. But I met the girl who writes Snackish.com a few weeks ago and we commiserated about being that guy in our groups of friends who always has to take pictures and notes at dinner. "No, you can't eat that yet!" I will sometimes cry out. Smacking hands away is a rarity. Arranging the items on the table to get a better pic is a given.

The seating at Meatball is tight. You can eat at the bar if there are seats available, but most people wind up at the large community table in the center of the room. We were lucky enough be given one of the few individual tables by the wall. The lighting isn't dim, but it's not too bright, either. Everything is wood or stone or iron. Meat grinder parts decorate a wall. The menu is laminated and comes with a pen. You don't order with your waitress so much as hand her the menu you've just scribbled all over. Fun, in a sort of there-should-be-sawdust-on-the-floor kind of way.

We ordered a range of meatball sliders, like a sampler pack, though they do serve heros if you want a larger sandwich. Meatball Shop has four kinds of meatballs (Beef, Pork, Chicken, and Vegetable) and five kinds of sauces (Tomato, Spicy Meat, Mushroom Gravy, Parmesan Cream, and Pesto). They'll also toss a fried egg on top of your ball for a buck. The fours sliders that I ordered were the beef meatball with tomato sauce, the beef meatball with parmesan cream, the pork meatball with mushroom gravy and the vegetable meatball with... spicy meat sauce (take that, vegans! heh heh). The beef/tomato was good and standard, like the meatball sub at Subway. The beef/parmesan was very good. It's a funny sauce to put on a meatball (I think) and I liked it. Cheesy, smooth, not too bitter. The best was probably the pork/mushroom. The pork meatball was the lightest of the bunch, not having tried the chicken and the mushroom gravy was like having it dunked in a revamped version of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup. Condensed. The vegetable meatball with meat sauce was the least impressive. First, I couldn't tell that the meat sauce was a meat sauce. It was virtually indistinguishable from the regular tomato sauce. Meanwhile the vegetable meatball was dry and flavorless. I won't get this again.

I ordered their Simple Salad in my attempt to be healthy amidst the ground meat. It was a standard salad with apple sliced tossed in for sweetness. Nothing unique. We decided to try very simple, standard comfort food side dishes, which they served in a bowl family-style: the smooth White Beans and the bitter Braised Greens. Both were good, paired well with the meatballs and well worth four dollars each, but neither was made in any special way and my bet is that their other sides like the risotto, the polenta, the rigatoni, etc aren't made uniquely either. The whole goal here is to give you the food that you might get at the Colorado log cabin that Grandma lives in.

For dessert, Snackish and I decided to try a scoop of their Brown Sugar Ice Cream (very brown sugary. I bet this would be great in coffee) and a Vanilla Chocolate Chip Ice Cream Sandwich. The problem with the sandwich was that the cookie was very stiff. Not stale, but they should use a soft cookie because you end up squeezing all of the ice cream out of the sides.

Snackish felt much the same way that I did. That while the food was good, it wasn't really memorable. We were left wondering about why anyone in their right mind would choose to spend two hours in line or huddled by the chill of the front door to eat here. The reason, you learn once you're sitting down, is for the atmosphere. It's incredibly relaxing. Weirdly relaxing.

Meatball Shop may be trendy in a quasi-retro way, but it lacks the pretension and arrogance of other gastropubs. There's class here without it at all being classy. The food is everything a meatball restaurant should sell (meatballs in bread) and it's pretty cheap to boot. Meatball Shop is warm and comfortable. It's the restaurant version of a blanket and a cup of cocoa by the fireplace. You can't help but smile, even if you don't entirely know what you're smiling at.

THE IMMIGRANT

2011-01-17T13:42:00.004-05:00

THE IMMIGRANT
341 East 9th Street
New York, NY 10003
(212) 677-2545

Unlike many of the cities that occupy this globe upon which we all reside, New York has no lack of wine bars. From Cavatappo way uptown to 'inoteca way downtown to both Cavatappo and 'inoteca in Kips Bay, if you want a wine list you can find one. What separates The Immigrant from these two previous examples is intimacy. Not intimacy in any sort of romanticized sexual way, but intimacy in a cozy nook-and-cranny way.

Immigrant is hidden inside of ninth street between First and Second Avenues, behind nondescript signage and a fern. Walking inside, it's pitch black. I say that a lot, I know. But Immigrant may be the darkest liquor hole outside of Milk & Honey.

Dogz and I finished having dinner at Sigiri, a fantastic BYOB Sri Lankan place on 6th Street and headed a few blocks north to meet Bro. When we arrived at Immigrant around 9-ish, the three of us were among the only people there. By 9:30, it was crowded. So don't get there fashionably late unless you really like standing up.

One thing about Immigrant that separates it from many of the other wine bars you can choose to drink at is that they don't really have a wine list. At least not one that was shown to me. Instead, Immigrant has a list of wine. Reds and whites (and some beer), and you pick the type of wine you want. So they might have one or two pinot grigios or one or two malbecs and you either like what they offer or you don't. This means that you're putting a lot of trust in management for providing non-plonk, but hey, let's not kid ourselves. Most of the time, most of us don't couldn't judge a wine to save our lives. If it's not notably rancid or corked, it's acceptable. We don't know good vineyards or good years. Most of us like a particular type of wine without giving two shiznizzles about much else. Case in point, Two-Buck Chuck (side note, 2BC Chardonnay is heinous). In essence, Immigrant takes the angst and anxiety out of the process. If the wine I usually like sucks, I can blame Immigrant rather than my own gross ignorance.

The Immigrant also has a small plates menu to snack on while imbibing. Most of its food is Mediterranean-derived. Bro ordered a plate of baklava. It was good. Not amazing but a great snack to get you through another glass of wine without getting too foggy in the ol' brain. As I parenthatized, there is a beer list, albeit a small one. Don't show up expecting to get a full-on dinner or expecting to pound back an ice-bucket of Coronas with your compadres.

Immigrant isn't for large groups or parties and I'm willing to bet that coming here to meet other singles eager to picked up is probably gonna land you in the slums of dissappointmentville. However, come with a friend or two to shoot the breeze and get tipsy or come with a date. Come expecting that you'll be spending the entire time engaged with the people you came with. There's no dance floor to escape to, no meat-market vibe, no reason to be here if it isn't to relax and drink.

CAFE D'ALSACE

2011-01-10T00:19:00.001-05:00

CAFE D'ALSACE
1695 Second Avenue
New York, NY 10128
(212) 722-5133

Cafe D'Alsace is one of the Restaurants that pepper Manhattan as part of the Tour De France restaurant group. It includes the likes of L'Express, Nice Matin, and French Roast, to name a few. Each of them, in theory, focuses on the cuisine from a certain part of France. Cafe D'Alsace focuses on the Alsatian region near the German border, so the food here is heavily German influenced. They naturally have a pretty damn good beer list. I was a jerk and ordered an Ommegang Hennepin.

Cafe D'Alsace rests comfortably on the Upper East Side. Much like the Upper West Side, this isn't a dining out destination. The restaurants are good, to be sure, but they are rarely innovative. People come home from a long day at work (this being the UES, they're probably hedge fund people) and want to eat something that they're familiar with. And let's not forget that 88th street isn't the most youthfully exuberant area in town. Slightly farther north and you've got 20-somethings just out of college rooming four to a two-bedroom and going to fratty bars drinking beer out of plastic cups, but 88th street is a solidly empty-nester friendly zone.

And so Cafe D'Alsace, while thoroughly pleasant and comfortable, isn't about to make me lie in bed at night craving their cuisine. I arrived around 8pm to meet my friend Lina. There was a pretty good sized crowd and we wound up at a table smack in the middle of the restaurant. Good for camera angles, not good for being able to gossip without the table right next to you listening in. After ordering a round of drinks, Lina skipped an appetizer but I started with their Venison Sausage appetizer, which I liked quite a bit. Venison, for those who've never had it, is very very good. It's gamey, but not gritty and tough like buffalo. It's a red meat, so it's similar to beef in texture, but with a twist, the way wild boar is pork with a twist (for the better, in my opinion). Served on a bed of sauerkraut salad with lingonberries and a sweet red wine glaze, this was a great appetizer, but was not indicative of the rest of the meal.

Lina orders the good ol' French go-to dish, Steak Frites, Thin steak with french fries. It was, as I implied earlier, fine, but not spectacular. I order it A LOT and have certainly had better steak frites (though she asked for it well-done so maybe this isn't the restaurant's fault. Seriously, for the rest of you out there, don't let those cows die in vain by ordering your steak well-done). I ordered the Classic Cassoulet, a bean-based stew with fois gras, lamb, duck and garlic sausage, and duck confit. It was heavy. Super heavy. And when you get it you think it's small. But it's dry. The beans were okay, but too gloppy and the sausage required being eaten while drinking your beer. Lina loved the duck confit though and has since out trip here reminded me twice of how good it was. I took half of it home and finished it the next day.

Come dessert, I was ready to explode like a Monty Python character but Lina ordered a Chocolate Tart. It looked nicer on the plate than it tasted on my tongue. Like the other dishes, it was too dry and too heavy. I stole a bite or two with my coffee.

Compared with the other restaurants in the Tour De France playbook that I've been to, Cafe D'alsace is the weakest. It doens't have the outdoor space of Maison or the eye candy of L'Express or the relaxed cheapness of French Roast. It doesn't have escargot on the menu. It does have a good beer list though, something that I would certainly be willing to return for. I'll just skip the chocolate tart.

BEST/WORST 2010

2011-01-03T09:30:00.014-05:00

BEST/WORST 2010

The absolute best, and the flat-out worst, places we've eaten at this Anno Domini, 2010.

In the life of this particular blog, 2010 was the year of the outer borough. The Manhattan establishments I went to in the last twelve months were either, by and large, forgettable or they stunk. Meanwhile, the restaurants that required a little bit of travel were the ones that stood out. They were the ones that made me wonder how anyone who refused to cross a river to eat a meal could dare call themselves a "foodie" (they can't). This list proves that dining doesn't need to be expensive to be great. You just can't be lazy about it.

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THE BEST

Best Restaurant
FORT DEFIANCE

This Red Hook gem stands out, handily winning my top honor for quite simply doing absolutely nothing wrong. Great service, great ambiance, tiny menu, and of course, amazing food and drinks. If you were ever thinking "I want to open a restaurant, but I really want Jon to like it" then go here. Every neighborhood in New York should have a Fort Defiance in it.

Best Beer List
BEER TABLE

Park Slope's Beer Table's Lilliputian size (creating its notable lack of table space) is its sole downside. Once you're inside sitting down, and have accustomed yourself to having your neighbor's elbow firmly embedded in your love handles, prepare to be wowed by not only the beers they have available for your enjoyment, but by the knowledge of the staff pouring it into your glass. They're the sommeliers of stout. The beer snob in you (the food snob too, by the way) and in your circle of friends will be in heaven.

Best Whiskey List
CHAR NO. 4

Yes, this year I did me some drinkin' and Park Slope's Char No. 4, with it positively huge whiskey list, was helping me find the best way to do so. With a transcontinental selection and prices ranging from $3 to $100 per ounce, virtually every palate can be satisfied. Add to it all a delicious food menu and you have a place that was giving Fort Defiance a run for its money.

Best Italian
BACI & ABBRACCI

If you read this blog at all regularly, then you know that as much as I love Italian food, I usually find that the majority of Italian restaurants are half-assed attempts at using a Prego jar to separate you from your wallet. Williamsburg's Baci & Abbracci is not. It was consistently good across every front and, like Char No. 4, was on my ultra-short list for best restaurant. Nothing I ate here disappointed in the slightest, the atmosphere wasn't cliche, the staff was nice, the subway was nearby. It was everything you could want in an Italian restaurant.

Best Gnocchi
UVARARA

While Baci & Abbraci was the best overall Italian restaurant, Uvarara, the Middle Village Italian wine bar had, far and away, the best gnocchi. To my scale's dismay, I've eaten a lot of gnocchi this year and their golf ball-sized, butter-soaked and cheese-topped versions were the best of the bunch by leaps and bounds. If you ever wake up craving gnocchi, you should be waking up craving these.

Best Burger
BARE BURGER

With the success of Shake Shack and company, burger joints have been popping up like mushrooms. The trick these days is less about finding a good hamburger than in finding a unique one. Anyone can serve a beef burger or a turkey burger, but Astoria's Bare Burger has elk. Tender, delicious elk on a whole grain bun, served in a room designed with almost entirely recycled materials and you have a fantastic meal that's virtually guilt free (unless you're a vegetarian, which I am not).

Best Pizza
ARTICHOKE

The only Manhattan location on the best list this year is the East Village's Artichoke Pizza. Ironically enough, Artichoke hails from Staten Island. Serving only a half dozen kinds of pizza, none of which are "standard" and all of which are fantastic, Artichoke is simply the best pizza in NYC. It's worth the half hour line that comes required with the experience and almost makes you pity the tourists who'll wait in line for hours to get a pie (that simply doesn't compare) from Grimaldi's.

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THE WORST
(Congratulations...)

SALSA Y SALSA

Salsa Y Salsa makes the list for so many reasons, not the least of which was being served someone's hair. Fish tacos with almost no fish in them, the constant and steady breeze of ice-cold wind, uncooked doughy tortillas, the waiter who vanished only to re-appear drinking at the bar, the otherwise awful food. And, of course, there was the 18-inch long strand of hair.

RAINES LAW ROOM

It was bad enough waiting two hours to get in, then being strung along for a table once through the door (or maybe just plain forgotten about?), then having to stand up the entire time just so to be served unimpressive cocktails. But pairing that with the sad fact that I had been warned about this in advance... it just makes me angry at myself.

KINGSWOOD

Kingswood is popular. The wait on weekends can be long. And it was for this reason that I was fooled into eating there. I equated popularity with tastesgoodity, a common error. Miniskirts and silicone may be fun to look at and be great on a balance sheet, but they can't fix a broken kitchen. Overcooked greasy food with poorly paired sides is fine if you're a Waffle House off Interstate 95, but when you charge as much as Kingswood does, there's no excuse.

[ © Copyright eateryROW 2011 ]

KYOCHON

2010-12-27T23:05:00.005-05:00

KYOCHON

319 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10016
(212) 725-9292

The day of the Boxing Day Storm, the storm that ate our city, Bro and I walked to Koreatown for fried chicken. The recent popularity of Korean fried chicken, has led me to a few places for it here in New York City. Since I live in Queens, I've usually found myself eating it in Flushing or Elmhurst. This time, Koreatown was more convenient.

KyoChon follows the Asian tradition of crazy-over-the-top modern. So there are little TV screens over the urinal displaying people watching you while you pee, music videos are projected onto one wall while another wall rotates rainbow colors like a Pride parade on E. Is it fun in a sort of anime-esque, bubblegum-blowing tween holding a beer friendly kind of way? Yeah. I won't lie. It's kinda fun.

Korean fried chicken differs from American fried chicken in that the American fried chicken tends to have thick, flaky, batter-heavy crusts on thick pieces of meat. The crust almost becomes a side dish. The Korean chicken batter is thinner and smoother and more rigid in its crispness. It's practically a candy shell. There's more to KyoChon's menu than just fried chicken, but that's what I was there for, y'all. Bro ordered a sandwich. Feh. Anyway, KyoChon has all of three flavors. I ordered all three. The Honey Wings were okay. Not wonderful. But okay. Too sweet. Too thickly coated in the syrupy glaze. If you like eating honey glaze with a hint of chicken, instead of the other way around, then they were perfect. The Hot and Sweet Wings were also good. And they were hot. A little too hot actually. Too hot for Bro and while I like my wings to burn, they can't mask the flavor. So like the honey wings, but ironically in reverse, I still found myself asking where the chicken was. One thing that I'll give them a heaping of credit for was that the hot sauce didn't taste like hot sauce. In other words, it didn't taste like an afterthought where all they did to make them hot was splash Tabasco on them. The best wings had to be the Soy Garlic. Tangy. Chickeny. Sweet with a hint of bitter. Ahhh. Finally. This was why I was here.

Bro's sandwich, the Mango Mayo Grilled Chicken Breast Sandwich was a little heavy on the mango mayo sauce and a little light on the flavor. So while it didn't outright suck, I wasn't blown away and I was forced to wipe my hand and wrist off after only one bite from all the dripping sauce. He also tried the Chicken Croquettes, which were pureed chicken and mashed potato, breaded and fried. These were pretty good.

Expect to spend about a dollar per wing. The whole meal, wings, sandwich, croquettes, soda, and a beer came to about $34.

RAINES LAW ROOM

2010-12-21T19:52:00.002-05:00

RAINES LAW ROOM
48 West 17th Street
New York, NY 10011
phone n/a

Let me preface this post with two statements. First, I love speakeasy-style cocktail lounges and get downright giddy at the prospect of being able to go to one. Second, I don't plan to return to Raines Law Room. Hard to believe, I know, but this bar really managed to piss me and Bro off. Interestingly, I was warned away from going by a fellow blogger. But did I listen to her? No. Why? Because I'm stubborn.

Raines Law Room should be the perfect speakeasy. Below street level on West 17th Street, behind a door with no signage, lies a velvet lined living room of sorts, where patrons sit not at regular tables but on sofas and chairs, candles aglow, waitresses only coming when you press a buzzer to request them. Beyond the living room is the kitchen, the space provided for the bartenders to shake and stir and concoct.

When I arrived, I was told by the host that there was an hour long wait, but that he'd take my phone number and call me. This was to be expected. It happens at just about every place like this. So, I gave him my number and he told me to pick up when a blocked phone rings me. I met Bro, we grabbed some terrible pizza at Vapiano, and waited. And waited. And waited. When two hours passed with no word from the bar, we walked over and buzzed the door. With a guilty look on his face, the host sheepishly let us in, told us that when the next seats in the living room opened he'd give them to us, and pointed us towards the kitchen, where he said we could wait. And wait some more we did. Two more hours passed and Bro and I slugged our way through a handful of drinks, on our feet the entire time, watching people who arrived after we did get seated while we leaned on the wall. Maybe we looked too young? Raines Law Room clearly caters to a decidedly older clientele. Gray hair, sweater vests, and botox treatments were everywhere.

This had not shaped up to be a fun night.

What made it worse was that the drinks weren't even that remarkable. They started off fine, me ordering a Southside Gin Rickey (gin, lime, sugar, mint and club soda) and Bro ordering a Sleepyhead (Applejack, lemon and lime juice, ginger and club soda), but went downhill from there on. These were sweet, had some depth of flavor, and dare I say it, tasted good. The Peat and Rose, made from Scotch, Applejack and Grenadine was only just okay, while the American Trilogy (brandy, rye and bitters) was like drinking gasoline. Finally, I tried the Philadelphia Story (Scotch, St. Germaine and grapefruit bitters) and was also none too thrilled. It's entirely possible that it wasn't the drinks' fault (certainly the bartenders were extremely nice) and that we were just POed at having been forgotten about (or maybe ignored?) by the host twice and having to stand the whole time. But still, what happened happened and if it happened to me, there's no reason to think it doesn't happen to others, too.

It's a real shame because I really really wanted to like Raines Law Room.

The drinks that we tried were all $15 each including tip. But they have more than a few that cost far more.

NELSON BLUE

2010-12-12T22:03:00.006-05:00

NELSON BLUE
36 Peck Slip 1
New York, NY 10038
(212) 346-9090

Emma found me lost and staring at the mall-style map at the entrance to South Street Seaport. I had no idea where I was supposed to be. "Hey you," she said tugging my sleeve towards the water "I know where it is." Nelson Blue was our destination. It was just a hair off the Seaport (and so not on the map) and, from their website, seemed like a divey bar with a New Zealandy theme. I was expecting fishing junk, flags, New Zealand paraphernalia, an abundance of barely edible lamb dishes... you know, the kitchy works. All served with huge vats of beer to drown your sorrows and sooth your deck-swabbing muscles in.

Instead, what I got was an upscale corporate bar with the odd scent of both wood and swimming pool wafting through the air. The clientele was very professional, in their thirties-to-forties and drunk. Don't get me wrong, aside from the tipsy chick with the oversized bag who was repeatedly slamming herself into my back, none of this mix bothers me. Hey, they even have a real menu (though this is a real short review).

Emma and I didn't order much though. For some reason neither of us were hungry. But we wanted to go out and it just so happened that Emma had a coupon. Ka-ching! Emma ordered Nelson Blue's Mac and Cheese. It's a side dish, but man is that a large side dish. It was the same size as my entree. And it was actually very good. My choice was their Venison Chili, a hearty, thick mix of vegetables, beans and a lot of ground venison. It's not five alarm chili by any stretch, but it was quite tasty.

Nelson Blue is definitely the kind of place I can see going to when you want loud and fun, but also want business class and good food. More than your plain old happy hour pub, but less that Gramercy Tavern.

Emma and I ate and drank and drank some more and then left to go to her neighborhood to hit another bar. She threw up.

Wine averages $10 a glass. Beer averages $7 a pint. Entrees average $17. Sides average $6. Clearly, I lost my receipt.

WECHSLER'S CURRYWURST BRATWURST

2010-12-06T15:01:00.007-05:00

WECHSLER'S CURRYWURST BRATWURST

120 First Avenue

New York, NY 10009
(212) 228-1170

A recent lunch brought myself and Dudeman to Wechsler's, "a temple to German sausage", according to their website. Wechsler's reminded me very much of my recent visit to Radegast Hall, albeit this version had been shrunk in the wash. Quite literally, there are seats for maybe 20 people. Three of those are at the bar. Three of those are against the wall, and the rest are crammed up between two tables. With twenty German beers available at the time that I went, even if they don't live up to sausage-temple status, they certainly can qualify as a mini beer hall.

But how about the sausage? Well, we tried two on this particular trip. Naturally, their Currywurst, since it makes up a third of their name, was ordered. This was noshed on alongside their Wild Boar Bratwurst. After all, how often do you get wild boar? They were both quite good, though never quite becoming sensational. The currywurst sausage was a bratwurst, sliced into pieces, coated in a curry sauce and served alongside thin cut french fries. The sauce somewhat overpowered the taste of the sausage, meaning that the sausage itself was more about texture than flavor, though it was there in the background. The sauce, for its part, though stronger than the sausage in the sense that you noticed it long before you did the meat, was extremely mild. Anyone with a stomach sensitive to spicy foods should have no problem enjoying this. The wild boar bratwurst was served in a little bun. But at only about five inches long, this was a little sausage. You quite literally get a serving that's maybe half size of the bratwursts offered at Bohemian Hall. Still, it was surprisingly heavy and, with a bit of mustard, my favorite of the two.

Though Wechsler's is dark (and it's very dark) it's about as far from romantic as one can go. The iron candle sconces, the dark woods, and the heavy feel of the furniture lend an almost claustrophobic feeling to the place. But it's an oddly welcoming claustrophobia. Maybe a better word is "cozy". I can only imagine how cool a fireplace would be. It's winter now, and the perfect time for this kind of meal. Heavy meats, dark beers, and a warm space to counter to cold windiness of the street. I can absolutely see myself coming here again with a friend or two, maybe three, to catch up and relax. But any more people than that would be too many. It's just too small.

Two beers, and two wursts came to $30 with tip.

FORT DEFIANCE

2010-11-22T20:13:00.014-05:00

FORT DEFIANCE
365 Van Brunt Street
Brooklyn, NY 11231
(347) 453-6672

I promised Operagirl a birthday dinner and had grown bored of our repetitive hang-outings. No more could I bear meeting her for drinks near Lincoln Center, a neighborhood whose nightlife is akin to the the love-child of a retirement home and a brothel. No! I cried into the foggy gloom of night. No more could I stand being surrounded by the foppish dandies of 66th Street, forced to smile tepidly at their self-aggrandized tales of harmonial dismay. Thusly did I pick her up and drove we two over the River East and into Brooklyn Towne. Beyond the dark empty warehouses along the shore and amidst the dark stretches of unlit cobblestone streets lay our destination. Red Hook. And within Red Hook, Fort Defiance.

Red Hook, Brooklyn, is maybe unlike any other neighborhood in the city. Walled in by the river, a city housing project, the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel and an Ikea, and with nary a subway to call its own, Red Hook (as we think of it anyway) is a strip only a few blocks wide that has quite suddenly become home to renovated warehouses, artists lofts, boutiques, restaurants and a Fairway... all somehow coexisting within a quasi-colonial architectural structure that at once feels apart from the city as well as being entirely ensconced within it. The area's failure in the arena of public transportation aside, Red Hook has started becoming a destination spot for food and, now, with the introduction of Fort Defiance, a restaurant-cum-cocktail bar, there should be no reason not to call your favorite car service and make a trip.

Fort Defiance is small, maybe thirty seats, with space for about six at the bar. When we got there this past Saturday at 9, they were almost full, but not full enough for us to have to wait for a table. The menu is small as well, with three entrees: beef, chicken and fish. The rest are appetizers or cocktails. If you've been to Pegu Club on Houston Street, then you'll understand the idea of Fort Defiance. If Pegu Club has a theme (and it does), then that theme is colonial Britain. If Defiance has a theme, it's colonial America. They work together while being completely separate. The cocktails really play more than window dressing, though. I ordered a Sazerac, Operagirl ordered a Margarita.

Anyone who eats out with me knows that I have a preference for small menus. Large menus remind me of diners and chain restaurants. Large menus are often the result of trying to please all of the people all of the time and just as often result in spreading talent too thin. Fort Defiance takes the opposite approach. Very few, very simple dishes. And the message here is, "Hey, we may not have as many options, but you know that these three are gonna be good". And they were.

We started with some appetizers. Operagirl ordered the Deviled Egg and Broccoli Rabe and Garlic. The deviled egg, a super simple appetizer made of a hard boiled egg and whipped cream smooth mustard filling, was fantastic. Broccoli Rabe is a more acquired taste. If you like bitter, dark green vegetables you'll like this. Imagine Broccoli crossed with tobacco and you'll have an idea of what Broccoli Rabe is. Now saute it with garlic and butter and you have a mighty fine, extremely healthy dish. My appetizer was the Grilled Baby Octopus served with a black olive butter and fennel sauce. I thought it was delicious. Tender, not rubbery, with just enough char to give it some smoke. Operagirl not only refused to try a bite, but refused to even be at the table with me while I ate it. Apparently, whole octopi on a plate make her queasy.

For dinner, Operagirl ordered the Braised Beef Brisket, served with a side of what looked (and tasted) like mashed potatoes but what was actually pureed celery root and a side of Brussels sprouts and apples. The meat was incredible. There was a little more fat than I would have liked but that aside, it was absolutely melt in your mouth perfect. The celery root was a good companion, but the Brussels sprouts and apples weren't. They weren't bad-tasting, but this seemed like the wrong dish to give such a sweet side to. However, for the record, Operagirl literally wiped her plate completely clean. My guess is that the only thing that kept her from licking it was that we were in public. My entree was the Roast Plymouth Rock Chicken with mashed sweet potatoes and sauteed spinach. As good as the brisket was, this was better. I'm a sucker for roast chicken, especially when you can get it this moist and fatless. In fact, this is one of the few times I can say that you can eat the skin and not feel unhealthy. Fort Defiance managed to cook the chicken in such a way that the layer of fat, so often fused with the skin, was completely gone. In no time, there was little left on my plate but a few bones. The meal was somewhat heavy so we skipped dessert.

Three appetizers, two entrees and four drinks came to $113 including tax and tip.

THIS LITTLE PIGGY HAD ROAST BEEF

2010-11-02T18:39:00.009-04:00

THIS LITTLE PIGGY HAD ROAST BEEF

149 First Avenue
New York, NY 10003
(212) 253-1500

There can hardly be a restaurant in, forget New York City, ANY city, with a menu smaller than This Little Piggy Had Roast Beef's. There are four (4) sandwiches. That's it. I tried three of them.

This Little Piggy also couldn't be smaller without being a food truck. There's about two yards of counter space for everyone to lean on should they choose to eat in rather than take out. I've found myself leaning on that windowsill many a time this past week.

The first up was This Little Piggy's answer to the Philly cheese-steak.

Here's the thing about a Philly cheese-steak, something many people don't know. It was created by design to give heart attacks to the people that eat it. The best cheese steak sandwiches don't use real meat, they use that Steak-ums frozen-meat-puree junk which I'm virtually certain is 92% fat. Then, in that fat, they fry onions and peppers until every vitamin and nutrient has been cooked straight out of them. Finally, these fillings get tossed into a roll and topped with a thick helping of Cheese-Whiz, a product that is, miraculously, even less like actual cheese than a Kraft Single. Naturally, it tastes amazing. How could it not? (please no comments or emails about where I could go to get the best "real" cheese steak sandwich. I could really care less.)

And that's why I think that This Little Piggy's version, the This Way Sandwich ($5.50), falls flat. It uses Angus beef and au jus and I didn't feel that the dichotomy of high quality meat with Cheese Whiz and a cheapo roll worked. Sure, it was messy, got all over my face and needed most of a paper towel to clean up. But where was the grease? This type of sandwich needs, nay, cries out for grease. The au jus/whiz combo tasted funny and frankly, the beef was a tad dry. Fat = flavor. So when the fat gets lost in the creation of a quasi-healthy alternative, what gets left behind is a somewhat boring sandwich with fake cheese on top of it.

Maybe I'd have better luck with the That Way Sandwich ($5.50). This sandwich is again Angus roast beef, but with mozzarella, and gravy. It wasn't bad, and it was certainly better than the This Way was, but it lacked a little something. It just didn't hold my interest. Alongside the sandwich I ordered the Hand Cut Fries ($4). These french fries are the largest, thickest fries you'll ever find. They basically quartered a potato, skin on. Very good; hugely filling. One serving demands being shared.

Finally, I tried This Little Piggy's Something Else Sandwich ($12.50). It is, to boil it down, everything I just ate, all at one time. Roast beef, au jus, cheese whiz, mozzarella, gravy AND the fries all on a hero roll. The Something Else embodies the concept of "if a little is good, and some more is better, then a lot must be great!" Yes, this was the best of the bunch. Yes, it shaved off four months of my life. Yes, it took two sittings to eat (seriously, I had the other half of it for dinner twenty minutes ago). No, I can't honestly say I'd ever get it again.

The biggest problem with This Little Piggy is that it felt wholly uninspired. Like they got some good ideas from someone and tried to copy them with no real personality. Like when the Chinese copy a Western car and pass it off as their own. Anyway, clearly the people around the East Village like the place more than I did, given the numbers of people coming and going, and that's fine. But personally, I walked away, more than once, feeling... absolutely nothing (except a very full belly).

BEN'S BEST DELI

2010-10-25T17:07:00.007-04:00

BEN'S BEST DELI
96-40 Queens Boulevard
Rego Park, NY 11374
(718) 897-1700

The New York deli, like the New York bagel shop, is one of those things that are so quintessentially New York, that pretty much everywhere you go, you're bound to find one that tries to follow that mold. And, like the bagel shops, they pretty much suck everywhere they are outside of New York. The famous ones like the Second Avenue Deli and Katz's are... famous. And loaded with tourists. Ben's Best, on Queens Boulevard in Rego Park, is somewhat off the beaten path, but it's tourist-free. And I'm pretty sure they got mentioned in Esquire Magazine a few years back as part of their "Best Sandwich in America" series, but can't seem to find it online. Maybe it was GQ? Anyway.

The section of Rego Park along Queens Boulevard is one of the most commercialized places in the city that you'll find. Huge shopping complexes line the boulevard on one side and an array of smaller, somewhat dingier places are on the other. Indeed Ben's Best sits just a hop, skip and a jump away from a strip club, should you need to unwind and digest after your hearty kosher meal.

And believe me, Ben's Best will fill you up. I found myself at Ben's Best the day after my friend Pike told me he ordered from them through takeout connection. It reminded me how, for years, I'd been telling myself I'd go there, but never found the time. So, having found said time, I wandered in, sat down, and ordered some food. Ben's Best, like Veselka, is a throwback to an earlier era of dining when there was less fluff involved. No one will ever accuse Ben's Best (or Veselka or Katz's) of having hired an interior design firm.

This wasn't supposed to have been a big meal. All I wanted was soup and a sandwich. I ordered the Matzo Ball Soup and a Roast Beef Sandwich. When you sit down, you'll get a plate of coleslaw with pickles. They don't skimp on the coleslaw, believe me. And it was very good. Have you ever been to a diner and had coleslaw that tasted like it had been made last week and they were using it up? Well, not here. This coleslaw was crunchy very fresh and very good. And they give you way too much of it. The soup was simply fantastic. And like the coleslaw, giant. When the waitress placed the bowl in front of me, I practically fainted. The matzo ball was larger than my fist. There were bits of chicken, some carrot and a peppering of egg noodles in the clearly home-made broth. Finally, my sandwich showed up. At $11, it wasn't cheap and it comes with nothing. No fries, no lettuce and tomato. Just rye bread and meat. So I did have that "am I getting robbed?" feeling. But you get three inches of some of the most tender, moist, just-this-side-of-bloody roast beef I've ever had. Toss on a little mustard and you're in sandwich heaven.

With a can of diet coke, the bill came out to $20 before you factor in the tip. In other words, don't show up with a roll of pennies thinking you'll get some change. But I left with food to take home, filled near bursting. They have plenty more on the menu, so I'll be back.

OKTOBERFEST SPECIAL!!! - BEER GARDEN WARS

2010-10-09T00:16:00.002-04:00

OKTOBERFEST SPECIAL!!! (BEER GARDEN WARS)

Berry Park
Bohemian Hall & Beer Garden
Radegast Hall & Biergarten
The Standard Biergarten
Studio Square

October. The leaves are yellow and orange, the air is crisp and clean. Halloween, which used to be when girls dressed like hookers but which is now when girls dress like zombie s, is just on the horizon. October is the title of a thankfully very short, brooding U2 song. October is the official month both for Breast Cancer Awareness, an important cause we should all support, and Caffeine Addiction Recovery Awareness, a fake cause invented to hawk merchandise we should all laugh at. Last but not least, October is the international month of beer. OKTOBERFEST is here!!

The best place, we all know, to fully appreciate Oktoberfest isn't at some sports bar watching the Giants lose. No, Oktoberfest requires a beer garden. So this Winterfylleth I decided to wander the boroughs to find the best Beer Gardens NYC has to offer.

BERRY PARK
4 Berry Street
Brooklyn, NY 11211
(718) 782-2829

Berry Park, on the border between Williamsburg and Greenpoint, was the second stop on my journey between the boroughs hunting for outdoor German beering. Berry Park sits alone along a deserted industrial street smack between the bustle of the Nassau stop on the G and the bustle of the Bedford stop on the L. You can't miss it. It's the warehouse with all the lights. Unlike Bohemian Hall, the inside area is large and maintains the ubiquitous beer hall decor of communal tables. In fact, with the high ceilings, warm candlelight glows and the faint smells of wood and ale blending together, you could almost pretend that your imbibery was taking place at a ski lodge in the Alps.

But of course, this isn't about sitting inside on a perfect fall night, it's about sitting outside. Walk up the long staircase in the back to find yourself on the roof. There's far less seating than at Bohemian Hall and far, far less seating than at Studio Square, but when Mr. Dogz and I showed up, the place was calm and we were able to get a table to ourselves. We ordered a couple of beers from the rooftop bar and hunkered in for some guy-talk.

If the beer menu is almost exclusively German, the food menu is anything but (save a pretzel). Mostly appetizers, salads and sandwiches, this isn't standard bar food. With choices like a jambalaya, a smoked salmon sandwich, roasted seasonal vegetables and an avocado BLT the menu has more in common with what you'd find on the menu of a WASPy, Hamptons venue than any normal bar. I wound up ordering the Pulled Pork Sandwich (very tasty), which came with a small side salad and a small side of potato salad while Dogz decided to have a Roasted Artichoke Dip, which came with roasted corn chips. This was mediocre at absolute best.

But we didn't come here for dinner. We came for the ambiance, and that particular aspect of Berry Park was fantastic. The crisp air, the lively, but not raucous fellow patrons and the smell of someone's wood-burning fireplace in the air was everything this particular New Yorker was in the mood for. The beers we tried, to give you an idea of what they had, were a Palm, an Aventinus, a Gosser, a Weihenstephaner, and a Leffe Blonde. They ranged in price from $6 to $8.

Berry Park is cash only.

BOHEMIAN HALL & BEER GARDEN
29-19 24th Avenue
Astoria, NY 11102
(718) 274-4925

When NYC beer gardens come to mind, this is the one that we picture. The Bohemian Hall and Beer Garden is such an iconic part of NYC that it was chosen as a location in the latest Grand Theft Auto video game. What makes this a beer garden, as opposed to an outdoor bar, are the trees. Big and thick and as old as the century-old bar itself.

The indoor space is microscopic. But who comes here to sit inside? Head to the back and you'll immediately find that the seating outdoors is both vast and yet insufficient. Seemingly hundreds upon hundreds of grad students fill row upon row of picnic tables. Most people here came in groups of four or more. Bro and I were certainly in the minority as we wandered the aisles looking for a seat. We squeezed in between some law students from DC and a pair of cutesy couples on a double date. It's not very loud here, but it's hardly quiet. The air, as fall began to descend upon us, had turned brisk, but the mass of humanity warmed the place up and wearing my jacket became uncomfortable.

While I held our place at the table, Bro grabbed us some liquid and solid refreshment. The food menu is pretty small. Kielbasa (pictured) and Bratwurst (not pictured) was our nosh du jour. But most people seemed content with fries or some other sort of lighter, shareable finger food. The beer menu was much smaller than one might expect from a place this size and this famous. Sure, 20-odd beers may not be something to sneeze at elsewhere, but I was thinking that I'd have an array of 50-plus. The beers we tried, which I won't bother opining about, were Hoegaarden, Krusovice and Staropramen. Bro also went for one of the few domestics with a Captain Lawrence. The majority of the brew options are from the old country, as it should be. Half liter mugs are the standard size and cost $5.

RADEGAST HALL & BIERGARTEN
113 North 3rd Street
Brooklyn, NY 11211
(718) 963-3973

About a ten minute walk down from Williamsburg's Berry Park is Radegast Hall, on the corner of Berry and North Third. From the side, it appears to sit in a large factory-like building. From the front, it looks like a medieval tavern where road-weary travelers seeking sanctuary from the bandits of the night. Either way, it's an ominous structure. Unlike the other four beer gardens I visited, despite the name, Radegast Hall is entirely indoors. It's a beer hall. And when I say hall, I mean it's big enough to line three freight cars up in the dining room.

Radegast Hall's front room is a standard bar/restaurant with individual tables and a very large central bar. Combine the smell of citrus, the dark woods, the jazz music playing and the non-beer drink menu and you can almost imagine that you're in a cocktail lounge instead of a beer hall. You can almost miss the little touches of German cliches that pepper the walls. But walk into the vast rear dining room, sit at the long tables and glance at the beer menu and you'll bring yourself to reality pretty quick. The beer menu is two pages long. One page is entirely drafts. The bottle menu on page two is literally in fine print.

There are two food menus. One is for table service and has things like steak and soups and so forth. The second menu is the grill menu where you go for burgers and sausages. Dogz and I split a Large Pretzel, which was very very good. Not too soft, not too hard, with just enough salt and a perfect mustard to dip it in. Dogz also tried Radegast's Garlic Soup, which I stole a sip of. Good, if a bit thin. We decided to stick with the grill menu for the remainder of our solid food here. Dogz ordered a Portobello Sandwich, which he gave a thumbs up to. Radegast has a large sausage menu, so I tried their Venison Sausage. It was smaller than the sausages you might get at Bohemian Hall, but it had a bit more concentrated flavor. Both of these meals came on a paper plate with fries. Mine also came with (surprisingly good sauerkraut).

Of course, the name of the game here is beer. And the selection is seemingly limitless. Between the two of us, we had a Gaffel Kolsch, a Schneider Weisse, a Hopus Ale, a Weihenstephaner Festbier, a Franziskaner Hefel-Weisse, and a Krusovice Imperial. I'm sure that these don't mean much to most of you, but that just means it's time to start expanding your palate.

Bottles vary in price. The Hopus was a bottle that cost $11. Everything else was a draft and Radegast Hall uses the following price structure: Half a liter (a little more than a pint) will run you $7, a liter will cost $13, and a liter-and-a-half will cost $18.

THE STANDARD BIERGARTEN
848 Washington Street
New York, NY 10014
(212) 645-4646

The Standard Hotel, in NYC's trendiest neighborhood, Meatpacking District, is perhaps the surest sign that beer gardens are cool again. Not long ago, beer gardens were quaint and kitch and anyone who showed up in heels, a miniskirt and sporting a Fendi bag would be first laughed at, then sprayed with lager, then laughed at again. Finally, arm candy girls can go someplace where they won't be discriminated against by the haters to meet the man of their wallet's dreams.

The Standard lies under the High Line and beside the Standard Hotel, so it's both indoors and outdoors at the same time. It's actually a very nice space and the inside-but-outside concept means you're safe to brew it up on a rainy day. Long beer-gardeny tables, high steel support beams, a decent number of tables including a bunch of smaller ones off to the side so you don't have to squeeze between strangers, and plenty of candles made for a pretty good time. But it has three big drawbacks. First, the clientele. If the other beer gardens are causal places for relaxing with your buddies, The Standard is where suits go to pretend that they're laid back dudes slumming it with the masses. The place absolutely reeked of cologne and there's something distinctly nauseating about watching a graying guy in a tie and eight-hundred dollar wingtips play ping-pong with what appears to be his clone while their dates drink cosmos at a nearby table. Second, the waitresses dress like Bavarian beer-wenches, something that I happen to think is pretty tacky.

Finally, for a "beer garden", more people were at the liquor bar than at the beer bar. But they offer up surprisingly little beer anyway. Three are on tap. Three. Kostriker, Lychee Weizen, and Bitburger, when I was there. I tried all three, suffice it to say. Food-wise, I saw a lot of pretzels floating around.

Poseurs can expect to pay $8 per beer.

STUDIO SQUARE

35-33 36th Street
Astoria, NY 11106
(718) 383-1001

Like Bohemian Hall, Studio Square is in Astoria and has a positively huge outdoor space. 18,000 square feet of it. That's pretty much where the similarity ends. If you're looking for a traditional beer garden experience, don't go here. If you're looking for a place where you can arrive dressed up, don't go here. On the other hand, if you're looking for a place where you can take ten friends and sport your Ed Hardy collection, then Studio Square is where you want to be.

If The Standard Biergarten presumes class (or at least the pretense of class), then Studio Square eschews any and every such presumption. After waiting in line behind a girl in torn capri jeans and ultra-glossy heels for the bouncer to scan your ID, I headed to the bar and placed an order with one of the bartenders in a black S2 tee. There's theoretically a "fire pit", something sort of like a long, stone trough of fire outside that people can hover around in the cold, but only one burner was on so it seemed more underwhelming than cool.

The best word to describe Studio Square is "immature". If Bohemian Hall feels like it attracts Ivy League grad students, Studio Square feels like it attracts State U. undergrads. There are probably a dozen flat screen TVs playing sports. The beer Studio Square serves on tap is basically regular beer, despite what articles may say to the contrary. A variety of Sam Adams, Blue Moon, Magic Hat, Spaten. Not a bad beer among them, but they aren't serving up any of that unique stuff nobody's ever heard of. For the non-beer drinkers, pitchers of hard lemonade, sangria, hard cider and mojitos (all on tap) are available.

I wanted to like Studio Square more than I did, it certainly has an incredible potential, but it was hard to get past the quasi-club-scene atmosphere and the customers. Two guys who look like they spent the whole day burying bodies in a Jersey landfill leaned against the unlit part of the fire pit for a smoke. The live music was a horrible band singing painfully off-key covers of pop songs. Lady Gaga blended into Boston blended into Miley Cyrus blended into ACDC. "That guy just spit on the floor!" Operagirl blurted out. "Right there in front of the bouncer! You know, at other bars, they'd have a problem with that. Here, no biggie." I slugged some more of my beer, not really feeling the place and watched as a guy about fifteen feet away slid his hand down onto his date's ass, squeezed it firmly, and didn't really let go.

Studio Square has a standard bar-food menu with some German wursts, plus a sushi menu, but keep in mind that it's cash only.