applesauce

Bastille Day Dining

2010-07-14T13:38:00.006-04:00

In honor of Bastille Day, check out my latest for Metromix in which I interview five French chefs about their favorite dishes. Ducasse, Boulud, Vongerichten, and more...

Photo: Metromix

Food Writer Turned Dating Columnist?

2010-02-09T14:57:00.002-05:00

Check out my latest article for Metromix, a survey of drunken hook-ups and bad pickup lines direct from NYC singles bars. The next time you're wondering where to find single people in NYC, look no further.

LA: From Hate to Love

2010-02-02T17:18:00.010-05:00

Oh LA, I always hated you, but perhaps I just didn't understand you. Despite all your shortcomings, (freeways, parking, smog, lack of culture), you've slowly started working your way into my heart, mostly, I admit, through my stomach. LA has arguably one of the most exciting food scenes in the country right now, and last weekend I got a chance to check out some of the hot spots first hand. The lineup: Tasting Kitchen in Venice (menu pictured to the right), Umami Burger, and Animal, among others.

Tasting Kitchen is a combination of so many trends that are predominant in NYC: classic cocktails/speakeasy, small plates/wine bar, market menu, etc. reminded me a lot of Marlow and Sons in Brooklyn meets 'inoteca but with much hotter waiters. Although ours was sporting an 'irony stache', he was the epitome of the long-blonde-haired California surfer dude/actor type that you'd totally expect to be working here. What we had: scallops with hen of the woods mushrooms, pork rilettes (these were off the hook), whole orata (they were out of the filleted fish), steak (so bomb), and two pastas: chicken with leeks and mushrooms, and salami pilote (almost like an Italian fried rice). Oh and dessert, bread pudding and something chocolately. Let's face it, I was half in the bag by then. Both were fantastic.
Umami Burger OMG. The "umami factor" here is SERIOUS. I tried the classic Umami Burger which had sun-dried tomatoes, shitake mushrooms and a parmesan wafer--so rich, complex and delicious. Wish I could have tried the triple pork but alas they were out of it. Will definitely be back on my next trip.
Animal Wow. Animal was like a pork tornado. In a good way. We had: gnocchi with goat cheese and bolognese, rabbit loin wrapped in pancetta, chorizo and cheese dip, pork belly and slaw sandwiches, carrot and sunchoke salad, and tres leches cake with dulce de leche for dessert. Everything was great but the space definitely leaves something to be desired. A little sprucing up might make it feel more cozy and less sterile. But with food that on point, who really cares anyway.

Other notable meals: El Compadre on Sunset: Your classic kitschy old-school Mexican joint complete with mariachi band and flaming margaritas. Loved it. Amazing enchiladas verdes.
The Griddle: Three words. Nutella french toast. Maybe one of the best things I've ever eaten in my life. Kings Road Cafe: Really impressed with the quality of ingredients here. Bread was freshly baked and mozzarella was incredible. A tad sceney/Hollywoody but a good place for a sandwich to be sure.

21 Things Restaurant Patrons Should Never Do

2009-11-15T03:03:00.003-05:00

In response to the NYTimes Blog post, "100 Things Restaurant Staffers Should Never Do," I present a server's list of things that restaurant patrons should never do. If you ask me, servers are usually far better behaved than their patrons. You wouldn't believe some of the shit people say/do when they're hungry.

1. Never seat yourself unless explicitly told that you may do so. If you see an open table, do not go sit there before checking in with a staff member. This includes outdoor tables.

2. Never sit at a table that has not been bussed. If told you may sit anywhere, this does not include dirty tables. At least wait until it has been cleaned and a staff member has given you the OK.

3. This is a new one from the other night: Do not ask the server for a “pitcher” of water unless you see other tables with them. A restaurant that offers decanters of water will generally put them down at seating. Asking me for something I don’t have is just annoying.

4. Do not order more than one alcoholic drink for yourself at a time. You're not at a frat party.

5. Don’t act like a douche when ordering. Please don’t say you’d like to “double down” on that last order, or other douchey phrases of the like.

6. In fact, don’t act like a douche period.

7. Do say please and thank you.

8. Always order your meal in the order you'd like it served. Ex: “To begin we’ll have x and y, etc.” Throwing in apps at the last minute makes it much more likely that your server will forget.

9. Don’t voluntarily “summarize” the order for the server. This is their job. It usually only leads to confusion. It’s also an insult to their intelligence.

10. When a server passes by you holding a stack of dishes, this is not an opportune time to flag him/her down for your order.

11. Also do not shove plates at a server or busser on their way by.

12. Additionally, when a server is entering an order into the computer, this is not a good time to talk to them.

13. Do not go into the kitchen. Ever. For any reason. Unless a patron is on fire.

14. If you see your server in the kitchen, bathroom, or outside, do not ask them for anything/change the details of your order etc. Your time with them begins and ends at the table.

15. Don’t lie about/underestimate the number of guests you are expecting. Do not tell a hostess that you have a party of 4 when really you have a party of 6. Squeezing extra seats in is often difficult to do.

16. Don’t ask for separate checks at one table. One table, one check. You figure out the rest.

17. Don’t ask for “water for the table” unless each person has concurred that they do in fact want water. It’s wasteful and time consuming.

18. Don’t touch the staff. For any reason. Additionally don’t get an inch from my face when you talk to me.

19. Don’t flag me down and then when I get to the table still have no idea what you are going to order. At least ask me a constructive question so it’s not a total waste of time.

20. Don’t get involved in me and my life. I’m here to take your order, not provide you with entertainment. Ex: “you look bored today.” “Where are you from?” Additionally don’t make jokes to the table at my expense. (at least in front of my face.)

21. This one is obvious but do tip 20% for good service, regardless of what you've ordered. $60 worth of drinks does not mean you leave $6. Whoever started that rumor that you "only tip 10% on drinks" is a cheap asshole.

Dutch Kills/Detroit's Last Word

2009-05-20T14:45:00.008-04:00

Went to Dutch Kills in LIC on Monday night, the newest in the family of old-school bôites brought to you by Sasha Petraske and co. The bar is lined with large, starkly-designed wooden booths, which look kinda like horse stalls. I sampled an Arc Angel (gin, cucumber, bitters, etc) and my favorite Petraske creation, the East Side Company. One of my comrades ordered a Greenpoint, a classic drink made with green/yellow chartreuse, rye, bitters, etc.

The verdict? Solid drinks as to be expected. The place itself is cool but somewhat unremarkable. Points for good music and lighting. If you live in the nabe it should certainly be on your list, but otherwise you can get most if not all of these drinks at a Petraske outpost near you.

Then, today I stumbled upon this article in the Detroit Free Press about the Last Word, an old-school gin drink made with green chartreuse which apparently originated in Detroit. The drink's revival has made it onto cocktail menus around the world and across the U.S. Proud to learn that my hometown has a place in cocktail history both past and present.

Photo via Flickr/Gilrain

Keste

2009-04-03T18:01:00.009-04:00

Another day, another gourmet pizza joint. The latest on the block is Keste Pizza & Vino, noted for its affiliation with the Associazone Pizzaiuoli Napoletana, the association that certifies pizza-makers. Walking into the Keste space you might feel like you are in some cheapie prix-fixe tourist trap or suburban strip mall joint. And the menu looks like it might have been designed/laminated at Kinko's. But once you taste the pizza, any doubts you might have about Keste will quickly fall by the wayside.

The staff seemed nervous, like they were on a first date, and accordingly a bit overly attentive. There were a few snafus--the soda was flat, the server's English was poor, and another staffer kept filling up all the glasses on the table with water, so at one point we had 3 full glasses for two people. (We had to snicker at that one.)

But the pizza is truly first-rate. Based on the server's advice, I tried the basic Buffalo Mozzarella pie, which was rich and delicious, its sauce full of plump, fresh tomatoes. The crust is textbook and spectacular: chewy, crusty, and crunchy in all the right places. My friend ordered a more elaborate pie with ham, mushrooms and artichokes which was also good, but not quite as flavorful as mine. We also shared a mixed green salad filled with chunks of mozzarella (since clearly we weren't eating enough cheese as it was).

All and all, Keste makes a very fine pie. Oh, and also, fire is free here, as noted on the check below. What a bargain!

Marc Forgione fka Forge

2009-02-10T15:02:00.004-05:00

Vegetarians and devout Jews, turn away. The rest of you, behold to your right some piggy porn from the Marc Forgione renaming party last night, (the restaurant formerly known as Forge.) Pretty random turnout but some good apps including a scallop ceviche, duck sliders, curried chicken nuggets, and short ribs with parsnip puree. Oh and the requisite roasted whole pig, as shown.

Adventures in Waitressing, Part 1

2009-02-09T17:09:00.004-05:00

Me: (approach table of 2, pen and pad in hand) Hi there, how are you?

Girl: Oh! I'm sorry, were you sitting here?

Co.

2009-02-02T13:03:00.009-05:00

I stopped into Co. on Saturday night, the trendy "pizzeria of the moment" which already boasts hysteria-level popularity (ie lines out the door) after only a few weeks in operation. We showed up around 6, hoping to forgo the hour-long wait that's been rumored to begin around 7. Luckily, we were seated right away at the end of one of its long communal tables.

Communal tables are definitely fun, but sometimes you just really want your own table, (mostly when you're not seated next to good-looking members of the opposite sex), but also because I find some of them too wide, so that you and your companion have to strain to hear each other across the table. Annoying. This one wasn't too bad.

The interior of Co. reminded me of Momofuku Ssam with its wood-paneled walls, which don't seem all that fitting for a pizzeria. To be sure though this restaurant is very cozy, and conducive to people-watching. You're almost forced to gaze (perhaps longingly) at the restaurant's few 'exclusive' group tables if you're sitting on the 'south' side of the big table. Us lowly communal diners were a bit like the"pizza proletariat."

Anyway, most of the food here was excellent. We started out with the Eggplant Toast, which was yummy. Garlicky, gelatinous, but light and licorice-y. The other appetizers laid out in front of neighboring diners looked similarly as enticing.

For pies, we went with the Boscaiola, a combination of mushrooms, sausage, and chiles. This was fantastic, but definitely hot and spicy. We also sampled the basic Margherita which was frankly a bit lackluster. The top part of the crust was nice and crisp however the bottom was somewhat limp and mushy. I've definitely had better. I wish we had the time/appetite to sample more but I suspect I'll be back for seconds. Is it worth waiting an hour or more for a taste? Probably not. But if you have a hankering for pizza before 7pm, you could stand to do a lot worse.

Scarpetta...Wow

2009-01-24T11:11:00.004-05:00

Last night I finally made it over to Scott Conant's Scarpetta for a little birthday din din and I have to say I am officially wowed. First of all, the restaurant is stunning. The dining room is gorgeous--elegant but not stuffy and totally somewhere you want to be. The service was first rate--a seemingly all Italian waitstaff who were so gracious and attentive. The food...well, it was fantastic. Short ribs literally melted in my mouth, polenta with truffled mushrooms had to be laced with crack, spaghetti with tomato and basil was transcendent with only 3 ingredients, epitomized the taste of Southern Italy. Other favorites: Rabbit cavatelli with mint, agnolotti dal plin, and marinated eggplant salad with burrata. Desserts were amazing, the Amadei chocolate cake was rich and intense, hazelnut milkshake and and coconut panna cotta with guava soup also sublime. Scarpetta is definitely a new favorite and hope to have many many return visits.

Tet: Are You Pho Real?

2008-12-23T00:57:00.005-05:00

Tet, from restaurateur and chef Steven Duong (Nam, O Mai), has been open just a little over six months now and has been reviewed by both Gael Greene and the Village Voice's Fork in the Road. However, on a recent Friday night visit, it was practically empty. Par for the course it would seem for a new restaurant. However if you had the pleasure of tasting the food, you’d expect a line to be forming around the block. I don’t have to reiterate that good Vietnamese or Thai for that matter is pretty hard to come by in this town. So for such an amazing Vietnamese restaurant to go relatively unnoticed is a full-fledged tragedy.

To the credit of some, it is somewhat confusingly situated. Tet is hidden behind an open storefront which houses a staircase to the dive bar, Arrow. But still, well, I can't really understand it. Nothing can stop a determined foodie in this town.

Each dish was better than the next. We started out with the Suon Nuong, grilled lemongrass baby back ribs with honey plum glaze. Sublime. Next came the mains—Ca Hap: Chilean sea bass with mushrooms and greens. It literally melted like a pad of butter in my mouth. I haven’t had fish this expertly cooked and seasoned in as long as I can remember. We also sampled the Cari Tom: prawns sautéed in coconut curry sauce with vegetables, and the Bo Luc Lav: seared sirloin over mixed greens. Tet isn’t reinventing the wheel by any means—they’re cooking dishes that are clearly within the canon of traditional Vietnamese cooking. The difference is that they are doing it right, while most other competitors have got it all wrong. Underseasoned meat and goopy, sugary, and tasteless sauces are typically what you find elsewhere. If you haven't been to Tet you are truly missing out. And if you live in the East Village you have even less of an excuse, it's certainly one of the best restaurants in the nabe.

Red Hook Ballfields

2008-09-05T15:33:00.007-04:00

So I know I'm last on the block to check out the much beleaguered Red Hook Ballfield Vendors, but Labor Day was the weekend I finally made the pilgrimage to this mecca of
Latino Street food. There I consumed the following:

Huarache: Giant Mexican taco filled with beef, chorizo, cilantro, tomato, lettuce, and guac.

I also consumed a pupusa which was my favorite: a pancake made of corn and filled with pork and cheese, topped with pickled cabbage and a strangely marinara-like sauce.

Piadina: The Secret's Out...Sort of

2008-08-20T14:23:00.005-04:00

People are constantly asking me what my favorite restaurant is which I have to admit gets sort of maddening...mostly because people are looking for a certain answer, and beyond that they're not even sure what they want that answer to be. They're also always asking me for recos along the lines of: "somewhere really fun, healthy, not too expensive, unique, can fit large groups, etc" (Yeah...when's the last time you had "fun" at a restaurant?") I've started responding to the former question by thinking about the places that I always want to visit (within my meager financial reality). Top on that list is Piadina. The ragu there is probably the best I've ever had...anywhere, and everything else on the menu is as good as any other Italian in the West Village or elsewhere. And..YOU NEVER HAVE TO WAIT. I hate waiting, making resys, or traveling long distances (more than ten blocks) for food. So as you can imagine, Piadina is among my favorite restaurants in the city. But recent visits have confirmed that I'm not alone in my sentiment... Lindsay Lohan, Samantha Ronson, America Ferrera and Alexis Bledel all eat there too. (I saw them!) So if you're aching for a simple, great Italian restaurant, you can't go wrong here.

Aperitivo

2008-06-29T20:21:00.003-04:00

Check out my article on aperitivo that ran last week in Metromix/AMNY.

Saying Au Revoir to Florent

2008-06-17T18:07:00.004-04:00

Herewith is my coverage of Florent's "Depression" party for Metromix.

On Selecting a Fine Wine...

2008-06-17T18:03:00.002-04:00

My friend: Can you tell me about the Morellino?

Server: Well, it's Italian.

My friend: Hmmm that sounds good, I'll have that.

I'm Not Dead...and Neither is Sam Talbot

2008-05-12T09:10:00.008-04:00

If I may interrupt the disturbing lack of content on this blog for this important announcement. Sam Talbot will be guest judging on Top Chef this Wednesday. Check out my interview with him for Metromix.

Sigh...

2008-02-12T19:46:00.000-05:00

If one more person asks me if I "review restaurants like Zagat's and get to eat there for free"...I may snap.

Culinary Highlights of Miami

2008-01-15T13:30:00.000-05:00

Puerto Sagua (top). Fantastic Cuban diner. On the bottom, Joe's Stone Crab, of course. Best mussels I've ever eaten, and the stone crabs really are as good as they say. Both photos courtesy of Flickr.

dell'anima, Among Other Things

2008-01-15T12:59:00.000-05:00

While I'm still a bit drunk off of stone crabs, mussels, and picadillo, I wanted to post a word or two about dell'anima, a place I stopped into right before I left for Miami. Dell'anima is a perfect addition to the neighborhood: a relaxed, unassuming Italian bistro with some incredible dishes. The menu is divided into appetizers, pastas, mains, sides, and a bruschette primer course. The bruschette options ranged from lily confit (roasted garlic and shallot), chickpea lemon and mint, to artichoke pesto, and even tuna caviar. I went with the former three and found them all to be really well-executed. But the real star to me was the pasta entree, Pizzocheri: tagliatelle with butter, sage, potato, walnut, and cheese. Honestly if I could only have one dish for the rest of my life, this might be it. Quite a statement, I realize. For dessert we had the Zuppe Inglese with was subtle but wonderful. I guess it's no surprise that the food was so spot on, considering the Batali and Le Bernadin disciples behind it. Oh, and while I'm at it, dell'anima means "of the soul," which couldn't sum up the feeling in this restaurant any better. I'll be back here soon, without fail.

A New Year at the Sauce

2008-01-04T11:56:00.000-05:00

A Happy New Year to all! Hope you spent NYE well. I spent it working, but still managed to imbibe heavily and in typical fashion, ended up at the Pig around 2 for some late night eats. Meanwhile ridiculously frigid temps have forced me to migrate south to Miami for a few days next week, so expect some reports on that trip down the road.

Never made it to Market Table because, well... it's booked solid. But hopefully will get in soon. In its place however, went to Wallse and had the meal of the year: braised rabbit spaetzle, poached lobster with figs, and wild striped bass with bacon, farro, and truffle...still dreaming about this one.

Anyway, I'll be back with more updates most likely after my vacay. Eat well, people.

A Word on: Back Forty

2007-12-18T22:34:00.000-05:00

Besides the usual suspects, where can one satisfy her hungry friends’ demands for a quality burger on a frigid Saturday night? Well, in the East Village at least, the latest answer to that question is Back Forty. Back Forty is a casual, oddly-proportioned restaurant, with tall, sparse walls and two separate dining rooms. The soundtrack is old-school country and the atmosphere, appropriately, could best be described as a hipster-hoedown. But Peter Hoffman’s food concept is intact: a seasonal menu, heavily reliant on Greenmarket foodstuffs and other local, largely organic products. There’s also been a lot of buzz about the burgers, made from grass-fed steer, and topped with homemade ketchup and farmhouse cheese. However, lately I’ve burnt out my palate for burgers (sad but true), and regrettably was not able to taste Back Forty’s due to said impediment.

Fortunately, I did sample some items from the rest of the menu which is broken down into the standard categories of appetizers, sides, and entrees. But the non-standard part about it was that the former two categories heavily outweighed the latter. For an app, I ordered the shrimp and bacon beignets with sweet chili sauce which were excellent, Chinese-tasting almost with those flavor combos. Then for my main course I chose the Blue Crab Roll, which is in the vein of a lobster roll in execution except that the bun was replaced with what I would call, a large challah crouton. We split the rosemary and sea salt fries as well and the donuts for dessert. There’s a good selection of beers including cask-drawn ales plus some interesting-looking cocktails. I went with a basic Kölsch, but the others mixed it up with some of the casks etc.

Back Forty seems to be a solid neighborhood addition, and I look forward to the changing menu as the seasons roll forward. But I don’t know, something about it left me kind of underwhelmed. It's an enjoyable, cozy dining experience, but it also won't be your most memorable one.

(Photo from NYMag)

Dining Out Journal: December 3-12, 2007

2007-12-12T15:55:00.001-05:00

This week, like so many before it, was gloriously filled with all kinds of gastronomic highlights, namely eating out at some new restaurants. Being that it is the holiday season, it seems that I’ve been eating much more than usual, although writing about it less than I’d like. So in an attempt to turn things around, ie the pathetic, content-less state of this blog, below are some notes on various venues where I have dined in the past week. Read on, if you please.

Pamplona: What I’m about to say is one of those cliché, elitist statements that I usually despise, but I have a feeling many of you may understand: lately it’s rare that I venture above 14th Street for any reason. However, certain circumstances, like meeting up with friends who live in all different parts of the city, can warrant the need to dine at a centralized location, which usually to my dismay ends up being the Gramercy/Murray Hill culinary void. Meh. Anyway, things have really been looking up for the area in recent months. Although not a totally new location, Pamplona, Alex Ureña’s reconfigured version of what was once Ureña, has taken up residence on a seedy, vacant stretch of 28th Street near the subway. The reviews looked promising, so I figured it’d be a perfect compromise; satisfying both the location requirements and my need to try a new noteworthy restaurant. The menu, like many others I have seen lately, is broken up into three sections: tapas, appetizers, and entrees. The Tapas, which are all priced around $4-6, are tiny plates featuring items like Serrano and manchego bocadillos, which are essentially little paninis. We ordered these along with the shrimp and chorizo skewers with goat cheese toast to start, and a bottle of red wine. The bocadillos were a big hit among my friends, the chorizo and shrimp skewers—not so much. The goat cheese was too overpowering. We also ordered Tortilla Espanola (passable) and the albondigas, which are a favorite of mine in general. I found them to be very moist and this version also integrated cranberries to the mix, which made for an innovative twist on the classic. For appetizers we ordered the Gambas Pochadas ( shrimp with manchego rice and chorizo sauce), which were good, not extraordinary. (The best part was the rice and my friends ate most of it.) Additionally we tried the merguez lamb sausage with chickpea puree and a grilled mushroom and vegetable salsa, of sorts. I thought the dish was a little on the spicy side but very interesting. We only ordered one entrée, the cod confit, which was served in a bath of horseradish puree and rested on a bed of portobellos and leeks. This dish was the star for me, mostly due to the incredibly rich taste of the mushrooms. For dessert we shared the chocolate and almond mousse tart and the churros. All in all, it was a very enjoyable, well-executed meal and the prices were far lower than I expected. The service was good but spotty and somewhat confused at times; kinks, to be ironed out, no doubt. While its “business casual” ambiance is not the most desirable environs, the food makes it more than worth a visit.

Centro Vinoteca: On Friday night I found myself hungry post-10PM and right near Centro Vinoteca , so me and a friend decided to check the place out. It’s been on the list for awhile but for one reason or another, got a little pushed back. Anyway, I really liked the vibe inside Centro, which is kind of a mish mash of boisterous club (downstairs), and lively dining area upstairs. The architecture is interesting as well, with the buildings slant-y, multi-floor design, going up the steps to the bathroom makes you feel like you’re on stage in front of the entire restaurant. Anyway, I didn’t eat very much but what I did eat I found to be well done. Taking the advice of other reviewers, I went with some of the fried items off the piccolini menu (Italian tapas), and ordered the arancine (fried rice balls), zucchini and parmigiano fritters), and rock shrimp in white wine (which were not fried). The standout were really the arancine, which were deceptively simple looking and tasting at first, but opened up taste-wise into a fried bite of risotto with hints of citrus. For the main course I only ordered one pasta dish, the pasta pica: thick homemade noodles with a sweet and spicy sausage ragu—good, but just on the borderline of being overseasoned and a bit too spicy. On to dessert, the hazelnut cake with nutella mousse was heaven, as it should be. Ironically later on that night after a brief jaunt to both Kingswood and Little Branch, I ended up at Daddy-O’s where Anne Burrell happened to be dining with a friend. I wanted to tell her what a great meal I’d had earlier, but didn’t want to freak her out, obvi.

Holiday Party at Da Andrea: While dining at Da Andrea was definitely not a new experience for me, the holiday party I attended at Da Andrea has got to go down in the books as the meal of the year. This meal defined exactly why I work in the service industry to the tee. Being friendly with the staff, as we are workers from a neighboring establishment, we were treated like royalty during this meal. After ordering both red and wine bottles of wine, we started with the Prosciutto Buns, grilled Calamari Salad, mussels, and the potato-celery soup. Our wonderful friends also brought out some gratis dishes including the mixed salad with radicchio and beets, the salmon carpaccio salad, and the grilled octopus salad. For mains we tried to keep it small: the hanger steak, salmon fillet, pesto salmon risotto, and gnocchi gorgonzola, but of course were treated with two free plates of both the artichoke and veal ravioli. The veal ravioli were the star dish of the evening. For dessert: tiramisu, chocolate cake, biscotti, gelato, apple tart, and limoncello shots, treated once again by the staff. This meal was a brilliant finale to an incredible week of dining. Coming up next week: Market Table and Bar Blanc (if it ever opens). In the meantime folks, happy holidays!

(Photo courtesy of NY Magazine)

Bar Blanc

2007-12-08T12:20:00.001-05:00

Despite reports, Bar Blanc at 142 W. 10th Street has NOT, as of yet, opened to the public. However, the interior looks nearly finished. Perhaps tonight?

Updates

2007-12-05T13:17:00.000-05:00

Hey folks. Just checking in since it's been quite a while. Stay tuned for an applesauce-appropriate latke recipe and postage regarding tomorrow night's meal at Pamplona.

Bobo Ready to Get Busy

2007-09-22T15:08:00.001-04:00

Dining Out Journal: September 10th-17th

2007-09-17T14:24:00.000-04:00

Hi there. It’s been a while, I know. Sorry for the lack of postage. In an attempt to compensate, here are some impressions of the meals I consumed this week.

Little Owl: It’s been on the list forever, and having not yet eaten here was a result of being put off by the monthlong wait for reservations. However, like many places, if you walk in at 5PM, you can more than likely get lucky and snag a seat, which is exactly what happened here. It was kind of a late lunch/early dinner for me and I was just happy to be finally sampling the much raved-about dishes of Joey Campanaro. Anyway, this wasn’t much of a meal, as I was in fact having another dinner a few hours later. (I’m a notorious double-booker.) We only consumed two things: Roasted Corn and Leek Soup and the Dorado special with Calamari and grapes. Honestly I hate ordering specials when I’m trying to get a sense of a place, especially fish because it’s rarely a good indicator of what the food is really like. But I was eating again soon so I knew I had to go light. Both dishes were passable but nothing extraordinary. On the positive side, I thought the staff was fantastic; not pretentious at all, which is always a bit surprising when you’re dining at a ‘hot spot.’ It’s really just a charming little place. I’ll be back for some meatball sliders and pork chops soon enough.

Boca Chica/La Bodeguita Cubana: I’ve been eating so much Cuban and South American lately that it’s getting ridiculous. But I’m not complaining by any means. I love it. It’s homey, comforting, and usually delish. Although if I have one more skirt steak with chimichurri I’m pretty sure I’m headed for a heart attack. My meal at Bodeguita Cubana came first, and it’s the newer of the two restaurants. In fact it just got its liquor license maybe two weeks ago. My experience there was interesting to say the least. First of all the place was smaller than my freshman year dorm room. We had to wait 30 minutes for a table but the manager/owner was really sweet and welcoming. We were seated and our alcohol (which they refrigerated) was brought to us shortly thereafter along with a free rum and OJ (not a fan). Well, I ordered the usual: skirt steak with chimichurri and we had an appetizer of mini empanadas. The food was fair to poor. The empanadas were too crusty and the filling dry, and the chimichurri was too pastey and pesto-like. But what was really disturbing was how the owner/manager nearly molested me to serve me my plate of food. Since the place was crowded he had to reach around me (imagine someone hugging you from behind) to put the plate on the table. I have to say I felt a little violated. Then literally the minute we put down our forks, some cracked-out waiter (who we had never seen until this point) asked us if we wanted dessert, because well, a lot of people were waiting to sit and uh, yeah. Sensing that this was not the most tactful way to handle things, this guy then came back and started apologizing profusely, to the point that it was embarrassing and sad. Something very strange is going at this place.

My dinner at Boca Chica in comparison was so much less eventful. Fair to good South American/Cuban food, with a better atmosphere and more space. Probably the better of the two. However my favorites right now have got to be Cafecito and Havana Alma de Cuba.

Pure Food and Wine: Alright, so as a food enthusiast/blogger/writer/whatever I’m always looking to expand my horizons. And since I now have two vegan cousins living here in the city, pushing my gastronomic boundaries seems to be happening on more of a regular basis. Case in point: Saturday night I met them at Pure Food and Wine, a raw food restaurant on Irving Place right next to Casa Mono. (I have to admit I was secretly wishing we were eating there instead.) The “raw food” in question consists of fruit, veggies, and nuts: the diet of a primal human, and nothing is cooked beyond 118 degrees. Right-o. The restaurant is actually pretty gorgeous. It’s in the bottom floor of a brownstone with a huge outdoor garden in back, which is where we sat. For our appetizer we consumed a mixture of nuts, mango, and cucumber wrapped in a collared green leaf. It was actually pretty good. For my meal I ordered the lasagna, which consisted of zucchini strips, heirloom tomatoes, basil, and some ground up nuts which served as the “cheese.” Er, well, it was certainly edible but for some reason it ended up being too sugary for me. Too much tomato, tomato paste, etc. For dessert I had the classic sundae which is like a hot fudge sundae except that the ice cream is made of ground up nuts and fruit. Pretty impressive actually but again, eating all raw fruits and veggies for me ended up being a sugar overload. Oh and another thing, gourmet raw food is kind of pricey since it takes such elaborate preparation. In conclusion? It’s definitely not a lifestyle I could embrace. Let's face it, I’d rather have a skirt steak.

So all in all, an excellent week of dining out. But my favorite meal of the week had to be the Haddock Chowder and Ricotta and Prosciutto tart at Spotted Pig. That place just continues to blow me away. More next week!

The Place on W. 10th Street--Dunzo

2007-07-28T18:54:00.001-04:00

Walking by The Place on W. 10th St. today, I noticed the awning was rolled up, the menu had been taken out of the window, and inside it looked dead. Further evidence can be found on the website where it notes that the "place on w. 10th street site has moved to the place's site." Sad. But as we've learned, this space will likely be taken over by a Boulud vet and renamed Seven White. Stay tuned for updates.

Jigga What??

2007-07-06T17:09:00.001-04:00

I don't know WHAT Bruni is talking about regarding Lure Fishbar. Although I promise a lengthier review this weekend, I have to share that with the exception of our drinks, the meal we consumed there a few weeks ago was incredibly mediocre. More on this later.

Pearl Vs. Ed's: Shellfish Smackdown!

2007-07-01T10:45:00.001-04:00

In light of recent Lobster Roll-related controversy, I decided it was high time I took the Pepsi Challenge and compared Pearl Oyster Bar with Ed's Lobster Bar, to be able to form any kind of coherent opinion on the situation. Well that and...I really like seafood, and it's marginally embarrassing that as a two-year West Village resident, I've never been to Pearl.

I knew walking into Pearl at 10:15pm on a Friday night wouldn't be a big problem, and I like that. Reservations are so boring to me. I'm a big fan of snap dining decisions. Spontaneity is one of the greatest things about living in New York, in my opinion anyway. As I walked in to Pearl, there's a distinct warmth about the place that you don't get from Ed's. The banker button-downs were the majority demographic-- standard. But there were also some colorful locals, borderline hipster-looking types, and random celebrity sightings. (Wallace Shawn and a woman I'm assuming is his wife sat behind us.) The look of the place itself is similar to Ed's, but it's not a replica. The bar is split onto two walls, and the dining room is attached to the right, as opposed to the very long and narrow corridor of Ed's. Similar decor yes, but it's all along that New England theme, which I don't know if anyone can patent.

The service was worlds better than Ed's, first of all. It was clearly a stressy part of the evening but the staff was focused and attentive. Kind of a no-fuss attitude, which I liked. Me and my dining companion started off with some raw Little Neck Clams ($7), which were very fresh, briny, and pungent in flavor. The trademark bag of oyster crackers at each seat was a nice touch. One I didn't notice at Ed's, but may have been there. Then for the main course I ordered the Bouillabaisse ($18), and my friend ordered the Lobster Roll ($24), an obvious must-try. Food-wise, I thought Pearl's Lobster Roll was the clear winner. Sooo much better than Ed's, which was mostly due to more mayo and more chive flavor. Ed's was a little less mayo-ey, more lemony tasting, and hardly any chive flavor came through. Pearl's bouillabaisse has gotta be one of the best deals in the Village. For $18 you get it all: clams, scallops, lobster, fish, and mussels, in a flavorful broth with a garlic crostini. Outstanding. I don't believe Ed's offers a Bouillabaisse, which may be one of the few points of difference in the menus.

As for the accusation that Ed's lifted most of the menu items from Pearl, I have to say the following. It's a seafood restaurant that's modeled after a certain type of place in New England. How many variations are there on steamed clams, boiled lobster, and Caesar salad? Ed's has a lobster pot pie and a lobster salad, didn't notice those on the menu at Pearl. There's enough differences in my opinion to negate that accusation. Plus most seafood restaurants offer similar dishes.

Pearl is the original and the best, and from what I can tell, still does some great business. So I'm not sure where I stand on the lawsuit, I see the similiarities but assure Rebecca Charles that her restaurant in terms of food, ambiance, and service is still pretty far ahead of Ed's.

Lure Fishbar

2007-06-20T13:52:00.001-04:00

Coming Attractions: Check back soon for a review of SoHo's Lure Fishbar.

Wednesday PM News

2007-06-20T13:49:00.000-04:00

Lots of juicy tidbits this afternoon that we'd like to share:

-A reliable source tells the 'Sauce that Tailor, although expected to open this summer, will not be opening until September.

-Lola's new downtown outpost which was previously reported to be open, is still under construction. The owner "plans" to open in 2-3 weeks.

-Finally, according to a Tasca staff member, Central Kitchen WILL reopen. Although who knows what's really going on.

Motown Eats

2007-06-17T12:59:00.000-04:00

Greektown's Laikon Cafe, as I mentioned in my Parea review, has not changed in over 30 years. Still the same chef, the same dingy decor, but the same unbelievable food and consistent service. I had the opportunity to eat here last night during my brief Father's Day return to D-town. If you can avoid catching fire from the flaming cheese, which is literally set aflame about every 5 seconds, you'll get to taste the extraordinary food. The skordalia is perfection. The egg lemon soup here is literally knee-buckling. If it's any indication, I took home a quart of soup to bring back to New York. Astoria? I'm sorry, it's a joke in comparison.

Laikon Cafe, 569 Monroe St. (@ St. Antoine St.), Detroit, (313) 963-7058.

Ed's Lobster Bar

2007-06-16T22:11:00.000-04:00

So before I begin this review, I have somewhat of a startling confession to make: I've never eaten a lobster roll. The reasons for this likely being that 1. I've never been to the Hamptons 2. I've never been to New England, and 3. until recently, mayo used to scared the sh*t outta me.

Ok, so now that we've gotten this embarrassing detail out of the way, I can tell you that I did eat a lobster roll at Ed's Lobster Bar, a newly opened restaurant in the recently very happening SoLa nabe. The "Ed" in play here is one Ed McFarland, yet another Pearl Oyster Bar alum who has opened their own personalized "version" of said seafood restaurant.

Ed's is a long and narrow space with a small dining room in the back. It's outfitted with grey wainscoting and beige walls, and white brick over the bar. When I was there it seemed pretty hoppin', but for the tiny size of the place, it's not as if the line was stretching around the block by any means. We were seated fairly quickly at the enormous "bar" (they're not kidding about the "bar" part of the name) and ordered some drinks. We shared two entrees: the infamous lobster roll plate (fries, cole slaw), and the grilled halibut, one of the fresh fish of the day. The big appeal of Ed's to me is that the prices are reasonable and the atmosphere isn't stuffy. Most plates are under $25 and many under $20.

Based on my relatively low acumen in judging lobster rolls, (ok, how about zero acumen), I thought this one was pretty good. Not a whole lot of taste really, the sweetness of the lobster is what really came through, as well as the lemon juice. I'm guessing this really isn't the greatest lobster roll on the block, because if it is, I have no idea why everyone raves about them. But the seafood was extremely fresh. The halibut was simply grilled and dressed in butter and was delicious with the accompanying corn and snap pea mixture...very "fresh from the farm," Hamptons-style cuisine. For dessert we had the blueberry crumble pie. Again, extremely fresh ingredients and a very simple yet balanced set of flavors.

Other notable menu items were the mussels, which sounded fantastic (dijon/wine/horseradish cream sauce or lobster broth and fennel), lobster pot pie, a lobster burger, and roasted Montauk bluefish. Oh, and a nice selection of beer. I had a German draft Jever.

Overall, I would come back to Ed's although I wasn't exactly blown away. It's the kind of place I'd stop by if I happened to be in the neighborhood. Beyond that, it's not exactly rave-inducing.

Ed's Lobster Bar, 222 Lafayette Street, SoHo, 212.343.3236.

Roll It Up

2007-06-13T16:08:00.000-04:00

Tonight the 'Sauce heads to the heavily reviewed Ed's Lobster Bar. Will be back with our findings tomorrow.

A Brief Word on Ostia

2007-06-04T14:45:00.000-04:00

I’m admittedly one of the lazier people when it comes to planning a weekend dinner. The good places are booked by the time I decide I want to go, and being a W. Village local, I tend to feel that staying in the nabe, if I can get in anywhere, will usually afford me a tasty meal without a whole lot of effort. Now don’t get me wrong, I love a culinary adventure as much as the next blogger, but with limited time and money constraints of late, I’m okay with just meandering down the street to the nearest place where I can just sit down and eat.

Having probably tried every Spanish and tapas restaurant in NYC, I am strangely still not totally bored with the genre, mainly because most places mix it up just enough to keep me tuned in. Ostia, (which means both “oyster’ and “dammit” in Spanish) has a slightly different flavor than its neighboring competitor, Tasca, across the street. The flavors are richer, saltier, more distinct and evocative of a different region of Spain. (Or perhaps not even Spain at all.) It’s also a place you can usually just walk right into, without a big wait or a major production. It’s reasonably-priced and un-fussy, and actually…pretty damn good.

We consumed:

- Asturian beans and clams (cockles)
- Raw plate of Serrano, Manchego, and Chorizo
- Tortilla con setas (mushrooms)
- Shrimp in White Wine Sauce

All of which were pretty on the money. The tortilla almost had a French taste to it due to the red wine and butter soaked mushrooms. One of the better tortillas I’ve had. Both seafood dishes were on the salty, tomatoey tip; a good combination if you ask me. The place is a bit underwhelming, however, but not in a bad way. It’s simple and not incredibly ambitious, and maybe that’s okay. It’s got some cutesy touches—ie some of the drinks being inspired from the Motorcycle Diaries. On the whole, it doesn't get me super excited. But honestly, what really does these days?

Ostia, 113 7th Ave. S. (W. 10th & Christopher Sts.) 212.924.2305

(apologies for the horrible picture)

Parea

2007-05-24T12:01:00.000-04:00

Last night I dined at Parea, Midwest-based chef Michael Symon’s modern reinterpretation of Greek cuisine. Before I get into the details of my experience, I felt it necessary to bore you with the extraneous details of my own relationship with Greek food. It just wouldn’t make sense not to.

My fervent love of Greek cuisine was cultivated when I was just a kid. My Dad used to take us down to Greektown almost every week to the slightly dingy, somewhat shady-vibed, Laikon Café, one of the older restaurants in Detroit’s Greektown row. (Sidenote: fear of flaming cheese forced me to hide under the table.) These trips were almost always followed by a visit to Astoria Bakery, a few shops down, for dessert. Both Laikon and Astoria Bakery remain today, seemingly unchanged from my childhood days: the avgolemono soup tastes exactly the same, as does the moussaka, and the lamp chops. I guess when it comes to Greek food I’m somewhat of a traditionalist. It’s one cuisine that I tend to feel needs no renovation.

Meanwhile, on the NY dining scene, no cuisine could be hotter right now. Chefs like Michael Psilakis, and Michael Symon are drawing raves for their creative reinvention of traditional Greek food. Notably, taking the Greek version of small plates/tapas, mezedes, to the next level. But let’s get on to the main event.

Parea is a very Park Ave. South-typical kind of joint. It’s oversized, sleekly decorated, and kind of unnecessarily formal and dim. (Whatever; the wrought-iron looking ceiling ‘ivy’ was kind of cool.) We were somewhat hounded by the staff at every turn, which was fine, overly attentive staff is kind of a necessary evil of good service. Another thing to note, the prices have gone UP. In fact, they’ve doubled. From the initial two-star Bruni review, all of the mezedes were $7, now the average price: $14. I guess two stars warrants an upping of the ante. The place was very empty, at 7pm on a Wednesday night. The patrons: yuppie, almost all in suits, straight out of the office or at a business dinner.

Let me start by staying, the cocktail I ordered was positively fantastic. It was kind of a cross between a margarita and a mojito: consisting of high-quality silver tequila, pineapple juice, mint, and lime. Delish.

Anyway, on to the food. We started with the three dip sampler ($15) and chose skordalia, tzatiki, and roasted pepper dips. Before dining here, I thought it was nigh impossible to mess up skordalia: lots of garlic, some mashed potato; start dipping. This version had a lot of lemon juice and almost no ‘edge’ to it. The tzatiki suffered the same problem. In a word, this dish was well, disappointing.

For our meal we ordered three mezedes: crab dolmades (grape leaves), braised lamb, and rock shrimp with citrus aioli. Of the three, the shrimp was my favorite. It was crispy and the citrus aioli was creamy and sweet. As for the other two: the crab dolmades were almost inedible. Stuffing crab into a grape leaf is not a good idea. Do not try this at home. The lamb was tender and falling off the bone, but also kind of fatty and chewy. I prefer lamb leaner and seared in cubes or chops. That's just me.

For dessert we went with the infallible Greek doughnut holes: fried balls of dough coated in sugar with a honey and cream dipping sauce. No complaints here but I had hoped for a version of galaktoboureko on the menu; no such luck.

Honestly I don’t know if I would come back to Parea, maybe we ordered the wrong things, but for three tapas, a cocktail and dessert, $65 seems a bit steep, at least for my budget. And I wasn’t bowled over. I’ve had much better Greek in this town, and in dingy family-run Detroit Greek restaurants to make my Parea experience kind of forgettable.

(photo shamelessly borrowed from Eater.com)

Parea

2007-05-23T10:53:00.001-04:00

Tonight the 'Sauce heads to greek tapas resto, Parea. Stay tuned for full coverage tomorrow.

Sant Ambroeus Suckage

2007-05-17T16:54:00.000-04:00

More Complaints:

Despite walking by it a billion times, I had never eaten at 'charming' little Italian eatery Sant Ambroeus on W. 4th Street and Perry...until last Sunday. We sat outside even though it was a tad cool, relying on coffee and tea to keep warm. When the first server appeared to take our drink order, I ordered coffee; my friend: just tap water. A few minutes later, sans coffee, another server appeared who asked us if we were ready to order, so we did. My friend ordered some tea at this point. Then the server turned to me to ask, “are you ok with just water for now?” I replied, “well actually, I had ordered coffee.” The server snapped: “well, do you want ME to get it for you?” Me: “Um…I don’t know, that’d be nice?” This totally rubbed me the wrong way. Apparently this guy was "not our server” so that’s why he didn’t know that I ordered coffee, as he explained to me. But all I was doing was informing him that I had already ordered a drink, whether from him or someone else. Geez.

Clearly this must have either put us on their bad side, or they wanted to fuck with us, (or they were just plain snobby and thought we looked like we were poor) because thereafter, we received the worst service I have ever experienced. The pasta was delicious, I went with a simple yet exorbitantly- priced Veal Bolognese, my friend went with the Ravioli with Sage and Butter. We asked for more milk, more Splenda, more coffee at least four times from four different people. Finally, as we were PAYING, the manager brought us more milk, but another server had already taken away my cup. Sigh. It was one of those exasperating experiences that makes you not want to go out to eat. It’s safe to say, I ain’t never coming back to this joint.

Opening Alert: Brick Oven 33!

2007-05-14T15:48:00.000-04:00

In the world of low-brow eats, one of my favorite slice chains in the city is Brick Oven Pizza 33. Sure it’s not exactly gourmet, but it’s just damn tasty. (However they do have prosciutto and arugula.) Until recently, the joys of Brick Oven could only be experienced by Chelsea/Murray Hill residents. But a weekend stroll led me to discover that the pizzeria is setting up shop on 14th and 6th Ave., an area in dire need of quality slices. (!!!) Happy days are here again. The place looks like it's due to open imminently, brown paper on walls but sign is up.

BLT's Got Beef

2007-05-10T13:39:00.000-04:00

File Under Complaints:

One of the funnier stories I’ve heard this week came to me last night via a friend and fellow Village resident who frequents BLT Burger often (she lives across the street). When the place opened, all the buzz centered around the outrageously priced $62 Japanese Kobe Burger. (remember, remember?) Yeah anyway, my friend is a big fan of the more sanely-priced American Kobe Burger ($16) and usually orders it whenever she visits. On this particular day, she was dining alone, sipping on a cup of coffee when the waitress came by to take her order. As she ordered the American Kobe Burger she pointed to it on the menu as well. The waitress nodded and walked away.

After my friend had finished her meal, which aside from being way too rare, tasted the same as usual. She was then presented with a $75 check. Obviously you’ve now put two and two together and figured out that she was accidentally served the $62 Japanese Kobe Burger. After arguing with the waitress that the words “Japanese” never came out of her mouth, she asked to speak to the manager. The manager’s response was essentially: “yeah…this really sucks.” You’re damn right it sucks…for you. Eventually, she got them to correct the bill, even though she probably was served the $62 burger by mistake. A very pissed off waitress threw the new check at her and walked away.

So I was thinking that this kind of thing must happen all the time here. And that the waitress should definitely have stopped to make absolutely certain that the Japanese burger was what she wanted. I mean, wouldn’t you? In what universe is it common for someone to order a $62 burger? Is that what the world is coming to?

Hit List

2007-05-03T16:53:00.000-04:00

Hey there friends. Stay tuned for upcoming posts including last week's excursion to East Village Brazilian meatery, Carne Vale, and tonight's visit to Australian seafood resty, Bondi Road. In the meantime, please excuse the lack of postage, and overall lameness of the past two weeks.

Porchetta to Re-open

2007-04-30T13:36:00.000-04:00

The word from the locals is that Porchetta is definitely NOT closed. According to a CG resident and Porchetta regular, it's set to reopen May 11th after a brief kitchen reno. The year of pig still going strong, at least on this side of the bridge.

Stay tuned for more reviews, news updates, and content in general. I know it's been sparse lately but please bear with. The 'Sauce is still here for ya.

FR.OG

2007-04-25T23:22:00.000-04:00

On Monday night I attended the opening of FR.OG, a new SoHo restaurant brought to you by Didier Virot (AIX) and his partner Philip Kirsh. FR.OG (France Origine) is an ode to French Imperialism: combining the French-inspired cuisines of Vietnam, Lebanon, and Morocco. Three cuisines I would list among some of my favorites. The opening party featured cocktails like the Ginger Rose which was a very spicy blend of ginger, lychee, rose essence, and vodka. Appetizers included tomato/cucumber/melon?? spears with some kind of coconut milk/lemongrass dipping sauce, fried filo dough-wrapped crab, duck with marcona almonds and a sweet glaze, and a curried tomato basil soup. (The servers had muddled English, so I didn't really catch the exact descriptions)

Although I don't have any real complaints, I wasn't particularly impressed with the food. I felt that with the exception of the soup, most of the appetizers were very bland and one-notish. I kept longing for garlic. (Would it have killed them?) The soup, which was my favorite, just tasted like tomato soup with a ton of curry on top. FR.OG seems like yet another slick, gimmicky restaurant that I predict will skew a bit more toward older executive than young hip gourmand. Sadly, what I tasted was kind of forgettable. Perhaps the menu items will be exciting enough to lure me back for a real taste.

(Photo by Alecia Reddick)

FR.OG, 71 Spring St. (Crosby St. & Lafayette St.) 212.966.5050

FR.OG Tonight, Comments Tomorrow

2007-04-23T11:40:00.000-04:00

Tonight the 'Sauce hits the opening of Didier Virot's new French/Mediterranean resto, FR.OG. Stay tuned for related content tomorrow. In the meantime, it's Monday and I'm frickin buried over here.

Tasca

2007-04-19T10:29:00.000-04:00

I had a thought the other night about the days when the word “tapas” was still a somewhat foreign concept to me, maybe seven or eight years ago. I remember walking by a tapas restaurant on E. 9th and 2nd with a friend and as we passed she noted, “we should really have dinner here, I love tapas.” Back then I kind of pondered that word with curiosity. I think my first official meal in the genre was at Bar Jamon, which remains one of the original ambassadors, and one of the best spots for tapas in the city. Now tapas restaurants are about as ubiquitous as sewer rats in New York City, which by no means diminishes my affection for them. But it really is mind-boggling when you think about how rapidly the number of tapas joints has shot up exponentially in the past five years.

Anyway, a late night visit to Tasca the other night, (long overdue) in some way renewed my faith in the whole thing, which I think has been waning a bit. Tasca is a warmly lit, triangular- shaped restaurant, accented by Gaudi-inspired light sculptures and a bar made of blue Spanish tile. The prices are very reasonable, with a large tapas menu ranging in price from $5 to $13.

On this trip we stuck just to the tapas, didn't venture into the few "large plate" selections. We ordered the Zanahoria Tapenade ($6); stewed glazed carrots topped with chopped green olives and drizzled in olive oil, which were some of the most interesting glazed carrots I’ve ever eaten. Definitely a fan of these. Nextly, the Albondigas ($9) which were made of lamb and then set in a tomato mint sauce and topped with a sprinkling of Spanish white cheese. In conversation about Tasca, these meatballs always seem to come up as a recommendation, and they were not a let down by any means. Tender and juicy and submerged in a sublimely seasoned sauce, these were a welcome departure from the deep fried meatballs of Sunday’s E.U. excursion. The Croqueta Brandade ($8) I expected to love, as I usually order cod croquettes during a traditional Spanish tapas meal. However the orange aioli that accompanied them was not my cup of tea. The croquette itself was perfectly fine, I just would have picked a different dipping sauce, not the right flavoring for me. The Pinchos Morunos ($11) might have been my favorite: tender skewers of lamb with a cumin-scented, minty flavor, accented by some pulverized chickpeas. Sublime. Finally a personal favorite which I almost always sample at all tapas establishments: Gazpacho ($7). For me it’s not just a warm weather soup, it’s a year-round obsession. Tasca’s version was a cold, smooth consistency, served with finely chopped toppings of red onion, tomato, pepper, and mini croutons. I was very happy with this course to say the least.

We also had the white sangria which was certainly one of the better ones I’ve had in the city: very smooth and flavorful which masked the alcohol taste well. A small pitcher costs $19.

Tasca is a great place for dinner or a late night snack (they are open until 2am) and I have a feeling I’ll be back sooner than later. It's also a tremendous spot for people watching out of the large windows. I’ll hopefully also get around to checking out the connected Central Kitchen next door.

Tasca, 130 7th Ave. S. (@ W. 10th Street), 212-620-6815

P*Ong Open for Business

2007-04-18T20:53:00.000-04:00

P*Ong is open for business as of tonight (Wednesday). Candles are lit, the place is packed, and food is on the tables. Stay tuned for coverage in the coming days.

First Look: P*Ong

2007-04-18T11:19:00.000-04:00

Was at the corner of 10th and Waverly this AM and noticed that the paper has come down. Behold the P*Ongage. At right and below, some poorly taken camera phone shots for your perusal. The 'Sauce hits the joint Friday night.

European Union

2007-04-16T12:55:00.000-04:00

Very rarely do I go to a restaurant so newly Bruni-ized as I did this weekend, and even more rarely do I concur so wholeheartedly with his analysis as I did after my venture to E.U. Perhaps dining during the peak of this weekend’s Nor’easter wasn’t the best time to assess the regular traffic patterns of this East Village gastropub, but the place was dead empty. I’ll write it off as happenstance. I doubt it’s an accurate barometer of the place’s popularity or food quality. But let’s not rule anything out completely.

On the plus side, it did give me a chance to focus more carefully on the food, an artful melding of regional European cuisines, and a striking resemblance to its formidable predecessor, The Spotted Pig. A similarity further indicated by the diagram-style sketches of pigs and chickens that line the walls. Hey, I guess when a formula works, you run with it. But the advantage that E.U. has over the Pig is its size. The high ceilings and spacious layout of E.U. (designed by AvroKo) make it a welcome refuge from the tightly-packed corners and elbow-bumping tables of the West Village original. I can’t speak for how the place fills up during peak hours, but its space is generous enough to keep stress low and enjoyment high: an advantage that it will need once you get a taste of the comparatively lackluster food.

To be fair, I only tasted three dishes at E.U., perhaps not enough of a sampling to fairly assess its quality. Also, it was a slow Sunday night, usually not the best time to give a restaurant a sporting try. But I came and saw and tasted what I did, of which I can only report my experience. We all know the troubles this place has gone through between liquor licenses, chefs, and catastrophic flooding incidents, so I'll spare you the repetition and just get on with the food.

The first brownie point over the Pig I would grant E.U. is the presence of bread. Bread is often a huge indicator of the effort a restaurant puts into its food. And I suppose sometimes it’s just a failproof course to hide behind. The bread was rustic, served in a heavy tin pot, with some peppery European butter on the side. A welcome addition to the table, but nothing to get all worked up over. A small plate of Olives ($4) were our first starter. Not wanting to over-order, we conservatively chose the olives, the meatballs, and the braised veal cheeks, figuring we could always order more if we were still hungry. Well, we were. The portions were teeny tiny, even by the standards of say, a manorexic male model. The Meatballs with mint and yogurt ($10), served in a mini cast iron skillet were tiny, deep-fried cumin bites, whose taste and texture, as noted by Bruni, were much closer to falafel than meatball. Personally I thought the dish needed more yogurt sauce, and that yogurt needed to be a bit thicker. It wasn’t cooling or tangy enough to absorb enough of the overspiced/overfried flavor. Other notable small plates on the menu were the Grilled Octopus, the Black “Orzotto,” and the Veal Sweetbreads “Bruschetta.” Nothing on the whole menu really got me super excited. Most of the selections are somewhat safe, “of the moment” dishes designed to sate the hipster gourmands of the neighborhood.

Next was the main course: Braised Veal Cheeks ($25). That is, if you can find the Veal Cheeks on your plate. Small, tender pieces of veal cheek tasted more brisket-y with a sweet and smoky glaze, accompanied by vinaigrette-dressed parsley and beets, green beans, and tender fingerling potatoes. This dish overall worked for me despite the fact that the portion wasn’t remotely filling, even if I had eaten the whole thing myself. It also bore an interesting resemblance to a Middle Eastern dish I often ate at a friend’s house as a child called Bamya, which consists of pieces of slowly cooked meat and okra in a cardamom-seasoned tomato sauce.

Thumbs up on the beer and wine selection. The crisp German Bitburger Pilsner was a perfect compliment to my meal. And for $10, you can sample 5 of the draught selections that span Belgium, Ireland, Germany, and the U.S. (Although they were out of one of them and I couldn’t do the sampler) “It was a super busy weekend” as our slightly awkward waiter had told us.

For dessert we selected the Rocher, $8, E.U.’s version of the classic candy which combined thick layers or dark chocolate and toffee, paired with a chocolate gelato. Although the portion was again small, and the dessert itself was a bit over frozen, we were generally enraptured by this one.

You pay for what you get at E.U. The prices are reasonable but the portions not overly generous. It’s probably best to go with more people, order more dishes, and sample a bit of everything. And back to my earlier point about Bruni: I’ve never left a restaurant so adamantly agreeing with the man that a restaurant is definitely worthy of just one star. But yesterday, I did. Not so sure I’ll be back because over on the West Side we have our own E.U., whose food brings me much closer to reaching stratospheric levels of gastropub-induced elation.

European Union, 235 E. 4th St. (Avenues A & B) 212.254.2900

Week in Review

2007-04-13T12:23:00.000-04:00

It may have been a slow week here at the 'Sauce, but thankfully restaurant news around town was considerably more dramatic than that mediocre Sopranos premiere. And just as we were starting to doze off too. Here's a rundown of the week's most interesting gastronomic happenings:

Porchetta's Jason Neroni is arrested, released, back in jail again? We're a bit confused. Anyway, it seems a little overhyped if you think about what actually went down. Neroni was accused of signing his own paycheck, (gasp!) which was either (debately) legitimate or in fact, a crime, according to Marco. Whateves. We kind of don't really care. But this story just won't die! Neroni

Wayne Nish takes the helm at Varietal, hopefully revamping Ed Witt's stiff, too-precious menu that failed to produce raves from critics. All I can say is I hope they keep that cute guy with the cart of freshly baked rolls. Ohmahgah, they are good.

Morandi continues to take hits from the left and the right. This time by TONY's Randall Lane. Could the kiss of death come from Bruni next week?

In other TONY news, the 2007 Eat Out Winners were announced. Top honors go to A Voce, Iacopo Falai, Joe., etc.

And finally...the 'Sauce scheduled to hit both E.U. and Alchemy in the coming days. Stay tuned for more postage. As for the weekend, why don't ya eat something?

Hit List

2007-04-11T10:05:00.000-04:00

On the radar this week: newly-chefed gastropub, E.U., recently liquor-licensed Alchemy in Park Slope, and in a week or more: the much delayed P*Ong, small plate/dessert hub from Pichet Ong on 10th and Waverly. Stay tuned for reviews later in the week, and maybe even some postage later today. Maybe.

My Love/Hate Relationship with The Spotted Pig

2007-04-09T11:57:00.000-04:00

You can usually count on a random late night pop-in to The Pig; Friday night was no exception. But I got to thinking, as I tend to do, that despite how much I love the food, the social component of the place is getting harder and harder to bear.

Love: The food, the food, the food. Sea bass with porcini mushrooms and leeks is spot on. The chicken liver of course, all the desserts, the specials (notably this Friday’s cockles with tomato and chickpeas), and the perfect shoestring fries.

Hate: Some of the annoying hipster staff. On Friday a smug, debatably cracked-out 'not host not waiter' guy who was up in our faces. Who are you? (Not you tall, cute, shaggy-haired guy. You’re ok with me, kind of.)

Love: The great beer and wine selection. Old Speckled Hen and Victory Pilsner among the favorites.

Hate: Its recent banker crowd draw. I guess it’s hard to avoid in this town.

Love: How it's open super late, serving food as well. Bonus there.

Hate: Slimy celebrity minglings. A super drunk Paul Rudd ogling among the low points.

Hate: How crowded it gets.

I still love you Spotted Pig, despite your shortcomings. I guess if you can stomach the downsides, your stomach will thank you.

Holy Sh*t--I'm on Eater.com!

2007-04-04T17:47:00.001-04:00

Holy craperoo. Thanks to the folks of eater.com for putting the 'sauce on the map!!

Take a look: The Sauce on Eater

Adios Mom and Pop: An Ode to Hunan Pan, and Other Neighborhood News

2007-04-04T15:03:00.000-04:00

Hunan Pan was probably the best neighborhood Chinese in the West Village. Sadly, after 25 years, it can no longer sustain itself and has gone the way of some other less fortunate mom and pop businesses of late. But what’s most disturbing is that pseudo-Euro bakery/coffee shop Le Pain Quotodien will set up in its stead, which will then sit kiddie-corner to richie neighborhood "stroller and doggie" depot, Panino Giusto, potentially threatening its demise as well. I don’t think I have to tell anyone how frustrating it is to lose small, locally-run businesses to mass marketed corporate chains. Frighteningly, this seems to be more the wave of the future than ever before. Thank you Starbucks, Whole Foods, Le Pain Quotodien. Thanks a lot.

Meanwhile, back on 7th and 10th’s Drywall Lane, the guttings and openings plow furiously along with the continued construction of Birdbath, the eco-friendly “Green” bakery from the City Bakery folk. Once again, said chain moved in at the expense of ripping out a mom and pop photo shop that once very kindly developed my photos. Moment of silence. Photos to come.

The Dark World of Gristedes

2007-04-02T16:53:00.000-04:00

Maybe it’s just me, but whenever I walk into virtually any Gristedes, my heart rate escalates a bit. For the most part, I find them all to be skuzzy, run-down, and well, somewhat creepy. (especially the smaller ones) It’s the kind of place where you’re almost positive that there’s shady activity going on, or at least that’s the feeling you get.

Case in point, the only grocery store within walking distance to my office is the Gristedes at the corner of Mercer and W. 3rd Street. On a recent visit, say around 6:30pm on a weekday night, a time when a grocery store should be packed with people, it was barren, desolate, and eerily quiet. Something told me that if I had mysteriously been abducted in the frozen foods aisle no one would ever have known…

When I mentioned this to a friend, she told me: “Funny you should say that, because I know for a fact there’s shady activity going on at one of them uptown.” (she had a bit of a dubious ex-boyfriend). She also added: “I mean yeah, there’s been times I felt scared for my life there.” Jeez. But what makes it so strange is that there are Gristedes EVERYWHERE, and in yuppified, high-rent areas. And ironically, for the condition of the stores, the prices are some of the highest in town.

There’s no doubt that the chain started out with earnest intentions. Founded in 1888 by two teenage brothers, the first “Gristede Brothers Store” is described (on the official website) as:

“(a) gas lit, scrupulously neat and clean retail store was located at 42nd Street and Second Avenue in New York City. “

Hmm, funny how things change I guess.

Morandi:The First Taste

2007-03-31T20:20:00.000-04:00

So I finally stopped into Morandi the other night. Compared to some other gourmands/writers/bloggers/scenesters, my level of enthusiasm on the prospect of dining here has been relatively low, and could basically be equated with my feelings about seeing the film, Dreamgirls: I just can't get myself psyched about it. To be honest, I'm not really a huge fan of McNally's other ventures. But, before we get too excited (or off on a tangent), I didn't actually eat anything, so it's not fair to call this a real review. Recently it's become the closest place to get a drink in my neck of the woods, and some friends were in town who were a little hungry, so I figured popping by at 11:30 would be prime time to snag an empty table.

I've read all kinds of reviews about the big M; one of the more recent was penned by the Post's Steve Cuozzo, who essentially tore it to pieces. And as we were being seated, I couldn't help but recall his description of Morandi's interior as (roughly): a suburban replica of what a Greenwich Village restaurant might look like. Allow me to go ahead and complete his thought with two words: Macaroni Grill. I too felt the decor was uninspired, and the place in general came off as phony and vapid. But I can't help but think that many of his other 'masterpieces' are similarly as generic, riding heavily on their size and scale to build character and drama. Balthazar? C'mon, it's a French bistro-'themed' megaplex that could be franchised into upscale suburban shopping malls everywhere, devoid of any natural character. I'm still not sure why exactly McNally chose this location. I mean if you're going to do West Village, do it right. Why not buy an old townhouse that has prewar ambience built right in?

Getting back to the point, the whole experience was pretty, I guess you could say, stiff. There were at least 6 hosts/staffers/maitre d's to greet us as we entered.

"Would it be possible to just have a drink?" I asked.

"Anything is possible!" gushed one of the 6 suits. I think McNally himself was even there, although I didn't see him until later.

We sat at one of the banquettes near the front, ordered some drinks and a plate of spinach ravioli with butter and sage. For the hefty price tag, the portion was microscopic. I really don't get that. Why should six small ravioli cost $19? Everything on the menu was a bit overpriced, but perhaps a reluctant future dinner here will prove that some of the items are worth shelling out for.

So let's see: lame ambience, pricey food, oh, and another thing: they close the joint at midnight (even on weekends), which seems kind of strange to me as most of the other McNally hubs are open late. Meh. Whatever. So over this place already.

Whole Foods: An Unsolicited Rant

2007-03-29T10:36:00.000-04:00

There’s just something about Whole Foods that makes me angry. I’ve never been able to pinpoint it, but I think ever since it opened, it’s grown more and more annoying over the years, to the point where today’s opening of WF Bowery makes me want to break things. Yes I think there are good things about it. Glorified megamarts that stock ‘quality’ organic, healthy, all-natural products. Yes, yes it’s wonderful I suppose. Tofu and granola for everyone! But I think what really irks me is the hipster component to the whole thing. 7pm at WF Union Square is a bastion of hipster/yuppie activity. People clutching small containers of premade tofu and noodles, and then paying $11 for it. The bottom line is that: it’s a rip-off, plain and simple. And whenever I know I’m being blatantly ripped off, I can't help but get kind of pissed. What’s most upsetting to me is that it’s helped people make yet another excuse NOT to cook. The line wraps all the way around the store, composed predominantly by 20-somethings with their $12 salads, pastas, or sushi. The pre-made food is, in a word, completely mediocre, overpriced, and to me tastes highly processed. It’s like people are buying into the idea of the place more than anything else. “Yeah I’m gonna head to Whole Foods, pick up something to eat.” Here’s an idea: Why don’t you COOK something? You spoiled, lazy, trustafarian asshat! Ok, I did warn you that this subject made me angry. And yes, I know that lots of people cook, and Whole Foods is a good resource of ingredients for the gourmet chef, supposedly. Although a few years back when I was attempting to make Pad Thai from scratch, I went to Whole Foods in search of a fairly common Asian ingredient, tamarind paste. Not only was it nowhere to be found, but the staff had never even heard of it. Gourmet, my ass WF. A small, organic marketplace just shouldn’t be mass marketed. There’s something inherently wrong about it to me. Forgive the rant, but sometimes things just really get to me…

Schmaltz!

2007-03-26T13:28:00.000-04:00

Comfort food takes many forms, and even as Americans, it doesn’t always mean meatloaf and mac n’ cheese. For the ‘chosen’ among us, it often means matzoh ball soup, a bowl of pickles, fried potato latkes, and well…schmaltz. All these foods, in their ultra fatty and caloric glory, signify home for me. And for being among the older Jewish institutions in the city, I had never been to the New York mecca of Jewish cuisine, Sammy’s Roumanian Steakhouse. I know, it’s kind of embarrassing, but it’s actually more tragic than anything else. Mainly because I can’t recall having more fun at dinner ever in my life.

While it may have started off as traditional, 80 years later, Sammy’s seems to be banking more on kitsch and irony than anything else, or at least that’s how it translates today. The sign above the restaurant looks like it hasn’t changed in half a century, and the dingy basement atmosphere seems somewhat ancient as well. Covered with photos and streamers, the feel inside Sammy’s is bar mitzvah meets bubby’s house. The current ownership (the Zimmermans) won Sammy's during a poker game in 1975, from Sammy himself, and today it's still a family-run operation. The resident DJ/emcee/one man band slings jokes and insults in the school of classic Yid humor, in between raucous sets of “O’Se Shalom,” and “Fly Me to the Moon,” (for some reason, a house favorite). Meanwhile, drinking ensues at the large round family-style tables, in preparation for rounds of drunken hora dancing, of course. The drink of choice is vodka, notably $100 bottles of Ketel One that are encased in blocks of solid ice and served in a white bucket. Wine is available also, but I would stick with either Budweiser or Ketel One at this joint, the wine tends to taste like cranberry juice.

Now down to the food. Sliced brains, liver, and ‘unborn eggs’ aren’t items I could actually conceive of eating, but I was more than ecstatic to sample the other pricey, (and cooked), Jewish delicacies. (The container of schmaltz that rests on each table like olive oil wasn’t so settling either). I think the true test of a Jewish restaurant comes down to its chicken broth, and Sammy’s more than passed on that one. Maybe the best cup of chicken soup I’ve ever had in a restaurant. Following that, we indulged in fried veal-stuffed kreplach (dumplings to you goyim), super-deep fried potato latkes (pancakes), new dill pickles and pickled roasted bell peppers, and of course, Sammy’s signature monstrous broiled steaks that lap over the side of the plate. The steak was slathered in garlic and was tender and juicy. The portions are outrageous, but if you’ve ever had a Jewish grandmother, it’s not really so surprising. By the end of the meal I was schvitzing and ready to plotz, but not before a little hora to help you digest.

After a few laps around the restaurant on an insanely full stomach, you'll be pretty pooped. I certainly was. Being that stuffed is not so fun. Luckily, Sammy’s has thought of everything, providing complimentary Alka-Seltzer packets on your way out. You’ll need them. Take a walk to avoid schpilkus.

Sammy’s Roumanian Steakhouse. 157 Chrystie St. @ Delancey. 212.673.0330

The Old Standbys

2007-03-19T11:41:00.000-04:00

Like most other homo sapiens, I'm a creature of habit. And when I find something I like, I tend to stick with it, over and over again, especially when it comes to restaurants. It's the simple neighborhood joints that provide comfort when we need it most. Here's a brief run-down of my favorite West Village go-tos.

Da Andrea: The food is consistently delicious, ridiculously cheap, and the service is warm and personal. I guess that's what keeps me coming back to underrated neighborhood treasure, Da Andrea. Inspired Northern Italian cuisine is served up by the family-run team who make you feel more than welcome in their own cozy little Italian dining room. A decanter of Montapulcino, a perfectly seared Beef Tenderloin, and a plate of the risotto du jour defines my own gastronomical heaven. You won't have one bad bite in this place, from beginning to end. Sophisticated, un-fussy dining at reasonable prices ensures Da Andrea will always have a place in my heart.

557 Hudson St., nr. Perry St. 212-367-1979

El Faro: Most people are more than familiar with this 80-year-old Spanish institution. But its slightly off-the-beaten path location may have eluded those who don't live nearby. The biggest reason I love El Faro is because I find that trying to get in to most 'of the moment' tapas restaurants can be an exasperating experience. I'm usually not up for the fight and often turn to the classicly-prepared delicious Spanish dishes you'll find here; and usually it's filled with locals who might be of similar thinking. My perfect meal: Shrimp with Green Sauce, Tortilla Espanola (the best in town), a bowl of gazpacho, croquetas de bacalao (cod croquettes), and a pitcher of sangria. If there's such a thing as Spanish comfort food, El Faro has mastered it. For a few hours and not much money, you can escape the stresses of modern day Manhattan to a haven of old-world simplicity.

823 Greenwich St., at Horatio St. 212-929-8210

Extra Virgin: For me, Extra Virgin is the definition of the perfect West Village brunch. With its simple Mediterranean menu, low prices, and lethal cocktails, EV has often become almost a ritual in my weekend routine. The Moroccan Scramble with Merguez Sausage, Chickpeas, and Romesco sauce is my favorite, although the Oregano Roasted Chicken Sandwich with pancetta, avocado, and yogurt sauce is a close second. Roasted Artichoke Provencal also receives an honorable mention, not to exclude the EV burger, one of the best in the city, served alongside the crispiest, most perfectly seasoned fries you'll ever eat. In the warmer months, brunch on the tiny outdoor patio turns into a prime people watching spot. Euro-chic, kiddies. Where's my cigarettes?

259 W. 4th St., at Perry St. 212-691-9359

'Over It' of the Day: Shake Shack

2007-03-19T11:25:00.000-04:00

Disclaimer: I promise this will be the last burger-related posting for a while. But I just have to get this off my chest.

I enjoy eating burgers and hot dogs outside in a park setting. I mean, hey, it’s great. Really. But I’m kind of getting tired of the unending hysteria over Shake Shack’s recent reopening. As if the lines weren’t long enough, every blog in town has been hyping it to DEATH. I know it's a slow week but c'mon now. Folks, it’s not THAT good. I don’t care what award it recently won. And frankly a 45 minute wait is hardly worth the ‘ok’ cuisine you’ll be receiving. So can we just all get over it and move on? Plleease?

Burger Mania...the next chapter

2007-03-09T11:52:00.000-05:00

The quest for the perfect burger charges on dear friends, with last night’s visit to BLT Burger. The fact that I live in such close proximity to several of the city’s latest designer burger ventures has made it very easy for me to indulge my passion for the time-honored American classic, as well as rate my findings of course for your reading pleasure. As for BLT, the reviews for this place range from mediocre to flat out bad, so the prospect of dining here had me somewhat concerned. But honestly this place is actually pretty darn good. I suspect that when it first opened they were having a lot of trouble, as so many places do, “getting into the groove” so to speak, which is unfortunate in that it was reviewed very early on. Anyway, let’s get on with it already, shall we?

BLT Burger is a raucous little place. Depending on the ever-fluctuating music volume, you'll likely find yourself shouting at the top of your lungs. It's a small restaurant, so that could have been the problem, or the fact that whenever $3 PBR cans are on the menu, things tend to get kind of rowdy, (and ironic! No, we were not in fact in Williamsburg). But really, it was quite loud. There's a small dining area, rectangular and bright, with booths lining the sides and back, and tables in the middle--standard. Some “Americana” details are notable (old-school napkin holders, yeah yeah yeah) but the most noticeable feature was the giant stuffed bull's head that protrudes from the back wall. It was at the same time both appropriate and unsettling, (thank you Fast Food Nation). The ambiance here is kind of generic overall, but it didn’t matter that much to me. At the end of the day, it’s a burger joint on 6th Avenue, I wasn’t exactly expecting wonders, (hey, it’s a step up from Joe Junior’s).

I wasn’t very hungry so I decided to keep it simple and just get the basic burger ($7): lettuce, tomato, ketchup, mustard, pickles, onion, and mayo (minus mayo for me). I’m low maintenance. My friend ordered the American Kobe Burger ($16), which had essentially the same toppings. We split some waffle fries ($4) and ordered some beers. I was feeling all warm and fuzzy and basking in my own personal “comfort food zone.” Good times. The menu is straightforward: beef burgers, turkey burgers, salmon burgers, etc, with the exception of the outrageously priced Japanese Kobe Burger, (at a whopping $62). I’m kind of confused about its presence on the menu. Hasn’t this Kobe trend been put to bed yet? For some reason I can’t help but associate it with a popped collar “grey goose and tonic” crowd, and tend to cringe at the mere mention of the word, “Kobe.” I doubt even the most audacious banker would order such a pricey item. It’s kind of too stupid for anyone to really consider. Had I been less tired and more hungry, I probably would have opted for the Merguez Lamb Burger ($11): ground lamb, olives, red onions, yogurt sauce. I'm a big fan of "Greek-inspired" combinations.

The waiter was friendly and attentive, and the service was great; despite having read reviews that it was slow, etc. When our food arrived, the burgers came in a cute lil' basket with cole slaw and a pickle (nice touch), speared with BLT’s trademark cow toothpick (why is it that every one of these places thinks they need a signature toothpick?). The burger was beefy, well-seasoned, peppery, and juicy. In a somewhat out-of-character move, I ordered my burger medium, because of my recent experience at Stand, where I received a super bloody medium rare. It was still juicy and slightly pink in the middle. But the real advantage BLT has over Stand and its competitors is its bun: a seedless, fluffy, doughy hunk of bread that holds up magnificently against a barrage of wet toppings and a juicy burger. Reminiscent of the bready White Castle bun, it was the perfect accompaniment to the meat. For dessert we split a $5 peanut butter/cookie dough milkshake (a slight alteration of the menu version). No complaints in that department. There usually aren’t.

Overall, I was pleasantly surprised at the quality of my meal. I’d definitely come back. I haven’t tried the other BLT restaurants yet but they're on the list. A tip of the hat to Tourondel. Ironic though that it sometimes takes a Frenchman to get an American classic right.

BLT Burger, 470 Sixth Ave., nr. 11th St.; 212-243-8226.

Blue Ribbon Bar: It's a Small World

2007-03-07T20:05:00.000-05:00

So last week I happened to pop into the latest Bromberg Brothers' Downing Street fixture, Blue Ribbon Bar. I have to say that I've seen some small bars in my day, but this one reminded me of my freshman year dorm room, obviously much nicer, but barely big enough to feel remotely comfortable in if any more than one other person is in there with you. It serves its purpose as a waiting room for Blue Ribbon Bakery across the street with some interesting drinks and gourmet bites, but it's hardly worth checking out otherwise. Maybe they'll even give you one of those beepers a la Olive Garden.

...and finally, The Waverly Inn

2007-03-02T12:54:00.000-05:00

At long last, the most overhyped, blatently elitist restaurant in all of New York City has been tactfully perpetrated by the ‘Sauce. But we all know that if it weren’t for a very lucky coincidence, I probably wouldn’t be writing what you’re about to read.

Walking into The Waverly Inn at 7:30pm on a Thursday night makes you feel pretty darn special. While you're not quite sure what to expect, you also know exactly what to expect: semi-recognizable faces, tight security, and old school aristocratic attitude. Predictability as you'll see, will become the theme of the night here. And what I found almost immediately, was exactly what I expected. As you enter, a boisterous restaurant lies just beyond the slew of sharply-attired guardians, including Emil, the host, who greet you and immediately question your presence. Once your name is matched up on their list, everything is just peachy. (I can’t imagine what would happen if you were NOT on the list) Being on that magical list makes you a ‘somebody’ and you will be treated as such. Although, as I was about to learn, even in a place as exclusive as the Waverly Inn, there’s levels of ‘somebody’-ness that will determine the level of attention you receive.

We've all heard the excessive hype about this place, and I must say that some of it is actually legitimate, at least aesthetically. The interior of this restaurant is positively gorgeous. We were whisked to the back so quickly that I barely had but a moment to take it all in. What I can tell you is that it’s a warm and shadowy, oak-lined space with gorgeous Old World light fixtures, mirrors, and banquettes. It’s basically like being in a turn-of-the-century English dining room of a stately manor. We were seated in the garden area of the restaurant which is beautiful, but as I’ve heard, it’s where they seat the least important 'somebodys' in the house. No matter.

We were sitting next to some food journalists, whom I didn’t recognize but seemed to be very friendly with Chef John Delucie who came over to chat a number of times, as well as the host, both hugging one of the two girls occasionally as if they were the oldest of friends. BFFs perhaps!? Making the jump from La Bottega, which I consider to be kind of a subpar establishment, to the Waverly Inn is quite an impressive feat for Delucie. But when it comes down to it, the food here isn't rocket science. It's steaks, and salads, and butternut squash soup: comfort food essentially, and not an incredible challenge. (I happen to think the $55 Mac n' cheese with black truffles is a total cop-out)

Anyway, the pair of writers also received much more attentive service than we did. We were not offered a bread refill, after receiving but two measly biscuits (which were fabulous by the way), and our wine glasses often sat empty. We weren’t asked if our food was satisfactory until we were halfway done with it. You get the idea. If you want to define elitism, there you have it.

Our server was friendly and courteous, and highly effective in his persuasion, doing his best to help us rack up an enormous bill. We ordered two glasses of the Marco Felluga Pinot Grigio (2005), which I have to say was one of the best I’ve ever had, although overpriced at $12 a glass. (at the liquor store, a bottle of it is $13) Slightly inebriated, we placed our order. On a writer's paltry wages, the prices were kind of frightening, but we managed to select the Wood Grilled Mussels ($18) the Cast Iron NY Strip Steak and (truffle) Fries ($34), and a side of the Sauteed Spinach ($7). The menu is about the perfect length, with a selection of both small and large plates, and sides. None of the small plates excited me; in fact, they were kind of boring and hardly worth mentioning. The large plates were a tad more interesting so we opted to head in that direction. Most large plates were between $14-$36 and small plates between $8-$14. The food is classic and traditional American with hints of traditional French mixed in. Chicken Pot Pie, Braised Short Ribs, The Waverly Burger: nothing experimental really, just well-crafted versions of old favorites. It’s country club fare, which is essentially what the Waverly Inn is: a country club for the West Village, and a playground for Graydon Carter and his cronies.

The steak was perfectly seared and very juicy but fairly small for the hefty $34 price tag. Have I had better? Probably. But it was excellent, as were the truffle fries. The spinach was boring and a waste of money, very little flavor or effort put into it. I didn't have too many mussels, but they were gigantic, and the broth was garlicky and buttery; standard, but well done. For dessert we ordered the Apple Crisp ($8), which was very good, but again, completely run-of-the-mill. For what we consumed, the damage was a little larger than it should have been. $80 a person for two glasses of wine, a small steak and fries, mussels, and dessert seemed pretty steep, but I figured that it may be my first and last visit, so I may as well get the full experience.

So the verdict? The food is good, not out of this world, but certainly enjoyable. People come here to see and be seen, period. As I got up to go to the bathroom, every head in the place looked up to try and size up who exactly I was. Was I an actress? An editor? No one was quite sure. You may feel a bit glamourous, and it’s nice to revel for a moment in the curious stares. But in truth, these thoughts and happenings are all pretty silly.

The Waverly Inn reminded me of what a hierarchy of social class New York (and America for that matter) really is. There’s something kind of useless and passé about it to me. Haven’t we evolved past alienating others for the sake of our own egos? Apparently not. To me, it’s kind of a sad state of affairs. Especially when you consider the number of empty seats in the restaurant, and the relative amount of absolute ‘nobodies’ that filled the other ones. A group of very plastic-looking late-40’s blondes in stilettos were seated across from us. They were pretty fussy and asked for no butter, no cheese, no sauce; you get the idea. As if straying from their diets of sushi and soy lattes could swiftly eradicate their trophy-wife status. God forbid. Was I dining at a premier New York restaurant or was I an extra in an episode of “The Real Housewives of Orange County?” Just like most everything else I experienced at this restaurant, it was nothing new; in fact, it had been done to death.

On our way out, my eyes swept the main room for familiar faces. Among them, Graydon Carter himself, brazenly flouting applicable smoking laws, (but hey, it's his place), at a large booth lined with shiny, brainy-looking peers. What a fitting end to a surprisingly predictable evening.

The Waverly Inn, 16 Bank St. (@ Waverly Place) West Village.

Morandi Mania!

2007-02-21T23:29:00.000-05:00

As every magazine, newspaper, website, and blog in town goes apeshit over the opening of Morandi, all I can think about is my own omnipresent fear that my quiet little West Village street is about to become a hipster thoroughfare to the newest and most likely final Keith McNally venture. They've been working on it for most of the time I've lived here, about a year and a half. It was briefly a little outdoor cafe but it quickly went out of business only a month into my living in the neighborhood. Honestly if this thing gets as big as any of his other restaurants, (ie Pastis, Schiller's, Pravda, Balthazar) I'm in for serious trouble. But on the bright side, maybe now cabs will actually know where the hell I live from now on.

Anyway, I plan to review this joint (and Waverly Inn, it's overdue I know) at some point this week. Tomorrow night I head to Blue Ribbon Bar. Details on all of the above to come...

Stand

2007-02-16T15:18:00.000-05:00

Is it just me or does it seem like designer burger restaurants in NYC are merrily on their way to becoming as ubiquitous as Duane Reade? After a recent visit to Stand, one of the most recent forays into the genre, I got to thinking about how this burger thing got to be such a big deal anyway. I thought about the mini-burger, a take-off of low culture favorite, the slyder. The first mini-burger I tasted was at Pop Burger, a MePa restaurant I used to frequent several years back when an actress friend of mine was the hostess. Somewhere around that time, burgers were really starting to pick up popularity, and from what I can tell, this was the product of a few major factors: the comfort food trend, the popularity of LA fast food chain, In N’ Out Burger, and an awareness and lobby against conventional fast food, (Fast Food Nation, Supersize Me, et al).

Consider Stand: a glossy, gourmet-ish burger restaurant from the people who brought you Republic and Bond Street. And by that “ish” I mean, well, it's almost gourmet. As hard as Stand tries to elevate the classic American burger experience to the next level with stepped-up versions of the classics, many of the risks Stand takes ultimately end up hurting them. Now don’t get me wrong, I more than enjoyed my experience here, but think it may require a few tweaks.

When it comes to burgers, I’m pretty settled on what works for me. I don’t eat cheeseburgers, never liked them, and think it fatties up the taste of the meat and takes away from the acidity of the toppings. My ideal burger: medium rare, juicy, covered in raw onions, pickles, and ketchup, with no lettuce or tomato (makes it far too wet). Based on those specs, I ordered the Classic Burger ($9) which consisted of all of the above plus some Dijon mustard, (and the ketchup was homemade). On the whole, this burger was pretty tasty, (and I agree precisely with Bruni/Meehan here) but there was a definite bun issue--that being that the bun is too crunchy on the outside and too flimsy to hold up for more than a few minutes. The burger came out bloodier than medium rare should be, which didn’t help the bun’s cause in trying to keep itself together.

As for sides, an appetizer of cole slaw and assorted pickles were the first thing I sampled. The cole slaw was good, not reinventing the wheel here, as were the pickles. But honestly: pickled eggs? Pickled Grapes? I commend the risk and the creativity but for god's sake, why? Neither of these items were worth the effort, as it turns out. Taking a cue from Asian cuisine on pickling may have helped a bit here.

Moving on to the fried accoutrements: the shoestring fries ($4-6) were excellent and totally up to par. But the real stand out of the meal were the lightly tempura-battered onion rings. In my opinion, if you’re going to make onion rings, ($4) they’ve got to be light and crispy, and using tempura batter is usually a safe bet there.

I also sampled a variety of beverages, including several of the restaurant’s homemade soda offerings: blackberry, ginger, pineapple-lime, and rosemaryade. Oh good lord. While the efforts made in this department were admirable, and were enjoyable to sample, I can’t imagine drinking an entire glass of any of the above, with the exception of maybe the pineapple-lime. Most of these concoctions were too ‘one note’. If the rosemaryade was blended with a fruit combination such as maybe strawberry, it might have a shot of actually being drinkable. The alcoholic shakes however? The combination of chocolate and hazelnut alcohol in my shake was seamlessly blended. Genius.

One thing I regret not saving room for was sampling Stand’s large, unique, and impressive beer menu, full of interesting and rare brews. But another time perhaps.

I tasted a few bites of the lime yogurt parfait, but bowed out gracefully due to my own personal dislike of tangy yogurt. If you can't already tell, dairy and I have a rocky relationship.

There’s no doubt that I would come back to Stand, but it would likely be for a side of onion rings and a crisp Dogfish Head Ale before it would be for the burgers. I guess when it comes to the latter, I’m just more a traditionalist. I prefer the old-school, greasy grill-made ground chuck combo (a la Corner Bistro) almost any day of the week to the pricey, overly fussy execution of Stand. But it certainly deserves a gold star for effort. You’ll try it, and like it, but won’t be bowled over. Though location, ambience, and good beer may bring you back.

Anthony Bourdain...

2007-02-12T16:59:00.000-05:00

Will you be my valentine? Because I heart you.

Clubland officially dead?

2007-02-12T14:30:00.000-05:00

Certain publications (cough: NYMag) have been more than overzealous in heralding the death of 27th street clubland. We've all witnessed its painful transformation from glamorous outpost for the rich and famous to seedy wasteland for B + T poseurati, bottle service devotees, and other sundry C listers (think the crowd from MTV's The Hills). But as far as I can tell, the only notable closings of late were B.E.D., (due to an accidental death resulting from a scuffle) and a rumored, but not yet actual, closing of Bungalow 8. As NYC nightlife history has proven, scenes move from area to area, acquiring cachet for about two nanoseconds, and then meeting their swift demise before Nicole Richie can bat a fake eyelash. While 27th street may go down in history as one of the longest running NYC club scenes ever, I hope none of us are in denial that it stopped being cool maybe two years ago...tops. And despite how badly so many of us want it to go away, dozens of clubs continue to thrive in and around 27th street and in the meatpacking district. The unfortunate reality being that as long as B & T and tourists continue to pump dollars into these places, they will stay in business, no matter how lame the scene has become.

Sustaining a cool scene in Manhattan is nearly impossible, especially those of the "club" persuasion. My personal feelings on the matter? I think clubs in general are on their way out. With skyrocketing rents and real estate prices, most Manhattanites have become increasingly more discerning about how they spend their money. Personally, I'd rather have a relaxing night out with friends at a great restaurant, or enjoy some cheap beers at a dive bar. Clubbing to me is a distant memory laced with images of a (pre-sex tape) Paris and Nicki Hilton dancing on tables, Von Dutch hats, and sounds of Ja Rule and Ashanti's latest collabo. Blegh.

But without any doubt, Sacco and her peers can't help but long for the halcyon days of the late 90's...

Inn-side Info

2007-02-11T22:36:00.000-05:00

So we all know the Waverly Inn as Graydon Carter's newest pet project, designed to elevate the New York dining scene from mildly elitist to full scale high school popularity contest, allowing only the 'in crowd' to perpetrate its walls. But the truth is, all of the mystique surrounding the restaurant itself is more or less, somewhat of an illusion. A recent bit of good luck came my way via a recent chance encounter with a member of the Waverly kitchen staff over the weekend. What she told me is, I suppose you could say, "privileged information," but it's nothing all that surprising. Nevertheless, I know someone is going to be interested in the following. Someone like...you.

First of all, there is no "secret" phone number for making reservations. It simply doesn't exist. So making reservations the old-fashioned way, via telephone, is well...out of the question, which makes this one of the most annoying places to schedule into your calendar. So basically unless you live in the neighborhood, (and if so, are likely pretty well off) it's kind of a crap shoot as to whether or not the effort you've wasted coming down to the joint will be all for naught.

However, if you want to make the attempt, your best bet is to walk in early or late, say 6:30pm or 9:30pm. Odds are that you'll be able to score a table.

And lastly, thanks to my new friend, I will be dining at the Waverly this week, mostly likely Friday. Check back for a full review in about a week. We'll see if it lives up to any of the hype...

my general thoughts on the gawkerization of the food blog

2007-02-05T00:13:00.000-05:00

While perusing this Sunday's Times, those of us in the food blogging universe nearly lost our $17 lunches when we noticed "Sharp Bites"--an article that points out the gossipy, hypercritical tendencies that characterize many current city food bloggers. Among the targets: Eater.com, RestaurantGirl, NY Mag's Grub Street, and Gothamist Food. While the article attempts some mild criticism of food bloggers' cuthroat tactics, (looks like Restaurant Girl got hit the hardest) it served more as a promotional tactic than anything else. My first clue? The fact that the author of this article convinced the Times to get all these bloggers to sit down to two meals together, (I'm sure that aforementioned bloggers involved displayed heavy resistance). So hey--now all of the NYTimes' readership can check out the blogs! Look--here are the links! This is the new wave of food criticism people!! So long Zagat's!

Can we all take a moment to sigh and exhale a collective: DUH... (channeling 1988 intonation).

But the point of my posting, really, is to make a statement about the current state of blogging as I see it. While I'm not sure exactly how or where blogging started, although I would point a suspicious finger at New York or LA, I have a hunch it started off in earnest-- a way of keeping an online journal or diary of one's thoughts or opinions. But the more crafty bunch started using blogging to break news to the public before magazines and newspapers could get to it. That aspect I have no problem with and was no doubt an innovation from which we have all benefitted, (myself obviously included). But what has really begun to bother me is the rapid Gawker-ization of blogging, ie, the kind of neverending "I'm smarter than you" competition that I blame Gawker for popularizing. A little snideness, fine, food criticism wouldn't be what it is without its trademark pretension and snobbery. But it's really the pushiness with which the "my opinion is better than yours" is being thrown at us that I think is out of control.

People, it's only food. Have things really gotten so precious? That the announcement of a new ingredient, a possible closing, a potential shortcoming, is cause for instantaneous gossipy postage and judgemental, sometimes outright cruel commentary? And much like everything in the blogosphere that has become hypercompetitive and increasingly snide, is being delivered to us in a package of "this completely sucks, but whatever I'm over it" hipster snark. In a way I think blogging has become a refuge for the formerly (or currently) nerdy whose ambiguous success or fractured self-opinion is weighted down heavily by insecurities from their pasts. Or how about this: it's straight up revenge. And as all-knowing gatekeepers of all things food, we all know that revenge, much like gazpacho, is best served cold, bitches. (with some creme fraiche, and maybe some shaved truffles...)

By the way, this post in so many ways sums up exactly the kind of hipster pretension I truly despise. Enjoy.

Cronkite Pizzeria and Wine Bar: the Pork Paradox

2007-01-19T15:28:00.000-05:00

I'm always one of the first in line to try a new pizza place, especially one that uses gourmet ingredients, organic flour and vegetables, and whose head chef is Fornino's Michael Ayoub. My expectations were high, but I wouldn't say I was completely disappointed. However looking back now, I really regret some of the ordering decisions that were made; most notably, the decision to include pork in everything that we ate.

When pork is done correctly, there's almost nothing better on this earth--salty, smoky, crispy, etc. But when it's undercooked, swine-y tasting, and limp, it's enough to make someone lose their appetite for an entire month. I like to call it the pork paradox.

We began by ordering a bottle of wine and then an appetizer: a fontina, arugula and prosciutto salad dressed in truffle oil. I figured that whenever truffle oil and prosciutto are involved, you pretty much can't go wrong. It was tasty enough although I'm not as big of a fontina fan as I thought, it really overpowered the dish. Also I positively can't stand when prosciutto is served warm or drowned in some kind of oil or sauce.

In terms of pizza, we opted for a combination of: mozzarella, tomato, shitake mushrooms, and guanciale (a type of Italian bacon that I had been wanting to try). It sounded like it would be a delicious combination. Well... just imagine biting into some raw pig meat and tasting the smell of swine that permeates a barnyard sty. It was basically a pork-tolerant Jewish girl's worst nightmare. Unfortunately, the presence of this undercooked and oily pork tainted the flavor of the rest of the pie and I couldn't really finish it, which is a shame because it would have tasted delicious without the porky stench. The crust was crispy and thin, and the sauce was the perfect balance of salty and sweet. Anyway, I was nauseous for several hours afterwards. Literally, this place left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

Hoping to erase the memory of such a horrifying ordeal, I ordered some tiramisu for dessert which was decent, but a little heavy on the liquor. The most surprising quirk of this LES basement restaurant is that they serve complimentary cotton candy for dessert. Bizarro. But we certainly didn't complain about that one.

Overall I think had I made some better ordering decisions, (perhaps avoided pork altogether), I would have had a much more fulfilling experience. I may be back again to try a different combination.

Cronkite Pizzeria and Wine Bar

144 Norfolk Street (at Rivington)

New York, NY 10003

(212) 375-1500

My Visit to Zenkichi

2007-01-12T00:56:00.000-05:00

This week I ventured over the bridge to Williamsburg to review trendy Japanese gastropub/brasserie, Zenkichi, which is located just down the street from hipster haunts Northsix and Sea. It's not like any place you've ever been, merely in terms of its layout alone. If you're able to find it, being that its exterior is no more than an unmarked wooden shell, you'll come to a roped-off reception area where a Japanese hostess greets you and escorts you up the stairs to the dining area. And by dining area I mean... a varitable funhouse of mirrors and secret compartments, most of which were only big enough for two. It's like being aboard the Orient Express, Japanese-style. It removes the social component from the New York restaurant experience as you can't see who else is in the restaurant, which is perfect for the low profiler or smoochy couple.

Zenkichi has an extensive sake list and a tapas-esq Brasserie-style menu. The nature of such an establishment has been referred to in other reviews as an izakaya, although the definition of izakaya is somewhat confusing and denotes that the menu consists of more than just tapas alone, but that it's a fairly cheap, post-work drinking establishment to say the least. I learned recently that izakaya loosely translates to "place where sake is." Zenkichi, more or less, is just that.

The menu contains unusual dishes like Camembert and Shrimp Tempura, and Monkfish foie gras. Mostly all the dishes were under $10, but were small. Once we summoned our server, (by pushing a button, if you can believe it), we ordered the "Creamy Crab Spring Rolls" which was basically a dressed up Crab Rangoon, a Chinese-American appetizer, wrapped up in a fried shell, which were delicious although the creamy element, (most likely cream cheese), was a bit overpowering. We found the sake list to be intimidating and pricey, so we opted for a crisp Sapporo instead, which never disappoints. Next we tried the Ozoni, which is a traditional Japanese soup, not too different from miso soup, containing whole shrimp and a mochi rice cake. Nothing impressive. The next course was the grilled black cod which was flavorful, although the heavy butter sauce somehow enhanced the briny sea taste of the fish, not incredibly appealing. But it did indeed melt in my mouth. A sidenote about the cod: one of the most popular and sought after delicacies in Japan? Cod milt. Translation: cod sperm. We were literally nanoseconds away from ordering said dish, when the little voice inside me told me not to do it. Thank god for that because as adventurous as I may be, I don't pretend or claim to be any kind of Anthony Bourdain. My favorite dish, sadly enough ended up being the fried chicken wings which were somewhat of a surprise, seemingly more of a Korean-style dish. Clearly this place is bent on fusion, although its steeped in what comes off as old-school tradition. Dessert was equally as inventive. We tried the Green Tea Creme Brule and the Sesame-Chocolate Mousse. Both were excellent.

Overall, Zenkichi is a dining experience not to be missed, although after such a secretive venture you may end up turning to your date to tell them: this never happened. Zenkichi.

7th Avenue Tapas War

2007-01-05T17:23:00.000-05:00

Well, the war has begun on 7th Avenue between two new Tapas joints, tactfully situated diagonal from each other across 7th Avenue near 10th Street. Above are some poorly taken pictures of both Ostia and Tasca. As you can see, Tasca has some artful light sculptures that might just give it that winning edge! The kids are gonna go crazy.

Is The Food Network the Next MTV? (MSN.com demands that you know)

2007-01-03T22:12:00.000-05:00

Oh, MSN, master of cultural zeitgeist. Yes undoubtedly, The Food Network has gained massive popularity in recent years, probably due to younger, more attractive stars who have pioneered the market of the 'home cook" genre. (See this week's Moskin) I know I replaced MTV with the Food Network around age 19. This happened 1) because once I hit 19 or 20, I started to surpass MTV's target maturity level. And 2) I love to eat. I love to think about eating. And I love to watch people making food. It's the creativity that appeals to me, creating something incredible from basic elements (I guess for the same reason I used to enjoy watching Bob Vila as a child. Ok, that skeleton is out of the closet!) But the bigger reason behind its popularity? Food TV is PG-rated pornography. The very first cooking show that really got me into food TV was Nigella Bites on the Style Network. The formula that hooked me? A British accent, full-fat foods, and indulgent cooking filmed in the most sensual style possible. It was hard to resist. Although I must say, these days most of the Food Network chefs are getting almost too annoying to watch (don't even get me started on Chiarello). Speaking of annoying chefs, in this MSN article, they mention how frat boys gather to watch the busty Giada De Laurentiis in her low cut tops (I knew they were too low) spouting overly verbose, sensual descriptions (it's criiiiispy and cruunnnchy and wooooodsy!) of everything she makes. It's the sensuality of it all that people are drawn to, is I guess the point, but also the practicality of it. I like learning how to cook because I like being able to have whatever I want, whenever I want. (Gazpacho in January? Sure!) And I don't really like most take-out food, nor can I afford to eat it everyday, and would be miserable if I had to rely on it like too many Americans. For me it's about taste. As for the other Food Network fans? Who knows. But Food Network will never be MTV. Too many old people are watching.