lost in the supermarket

Falling in Love Again

2007-11-09T10:43:00.000-05:00

Kerouac's reading overlaid on Woody Allen's Manhattan: enough to make you forget all of the city's transgressions and grotesqueness in favor of her lovely luminous loneliness...

Beijing III: The Forbidden City

2007-08-12T19:32:00.000-04:00

Yeah. No kidding.

Hazy central courtyard when you first walk in. The white marble meridian was the emperor's path and the only point upon which his feet touched the ground. Though word on the street is that Marco Polo got to walk it. Note that the largest, most-grandiose structure on the horizon is closed for renovation.

Detail of the giant doors at the gates between courtyards.

The "rank" and class distinction of each building in the city center is rated and displayed using what I call the "little-fanciful-animals-on-the-roof" system. The sequence of mythical creatures is static and only the number of figures indicates rank: the more figures, the higher the rank of that particular address. The only building with nine (the most divine and highest rank) animals is the central temple in the Forbidden City. Most concubines got 3 or 4 on their roofs.

Robert flexing with mom in the imperial garden.

Some more humble corners of the vast imperial palace have yet to see renovation... perhaps retaining some faded charm?

Gold plated vats were used to store rain water for extinguishing fires in the Forbidden City (built of all-wood and lit by oil lamps, the buildings often fell victim to destructive conflagrations). The scraped marks are those famously left by the Allied Forces of the Eight Powers when they occupied Beijing post-Qing dynasty; the "barbarians" of the west proceeded to plunder all the riches of the middle kingdom's capital, including using their bayonets to scratch even the plated gold off these urns. Some bookish types out there suggest that this helps to explain some of China's intransigent attitudes toward outside political involvement today... gee, ya think?

Beijing II: The Great Wall at Mutianyu

2007-08-12T19:10:00.001-04:00

Early on a Sunday morning at the beginning of June, our trip to the Great Wall of China was almost derailed when the van my mother chartered through friends broke down. Temporarily demoralized, we sulked in the lobby of our courtyard house hostel. It was only through Ginger's quick thinking, a few hundred RMB, and the goodwill of the staff of the Red Lantern House that we were able to hire another van, complete with driver--who was willing to shuttle a carload of tourists on his precious day off. We set out for the Great Wall at Mutianyu, a paltry 1-2 hours drive from the east side of the city.

Though it is only about 90 kilometers from (and just outside the Sixth Ring of) Beijing, the route up to this stretch of the Great Wall seems a world away from any urban center. On the way, I leaned out the window of the aging Toyota's back seat and captured some of my favorite images of a changing China and the indomitable spirit of the people who live here.

Ancient remnants of communist proclamations and advertisements are more numerous once you leave the city proper. A lot of property is available out here, and the ubiquity of phone numbers painted up on every wall remind you that anything is for rent/sale.

The rural lunch hour is comprised of these shabby roadside canteens, complete with sprinklings of local patrons sitting at hodgepodge outdoor tables. No shirt, no shoes? No problem. We didn't have time to stop, but I am certain that the food here would be delicious.

Many little grocers flank the one-lane highway. I love the little kids and their versions of the Big Wheel trike.

This man, capable of competing with the best of the Tour de France--without performance-enhancing drugs and with a cartload of produce in tow, mind you--kept pace with our car for a small distance.

These women seem like old friends (or rivals?) They are some of the few people who seem to stand still amidst China's whirlwind of perpetual progress and modernization.

Once you get to the foothills, you can spend most of the day just climbing up to the Wall, or you can join the bourgeoisie in taking the cable car up. Afterall, the ascent is great, but you want to have enough time to actually traverse the wall before nightfall!

A stretch of the Great Wall that is known for its accessibility to most levels of hikers, Mutianyu can however be a steep (but unprecarious) climb in some spots.

Inside the lower level of each of the watchtowers are a series of intricate archways and rooms--built long before the Medieval cousins of which we first think...

Wide group shot from atop a watchtower.

A local resident of the Wall, a cartoony green bug, looked incredulously down on the rest of us before flying away.

You can now pay to take a toboggan ride down from the Great Wall. Incredible fun! My mother, an adventurer at heart, was a great sport and joined us in sliding down the German-made giant metal track. This was definitely the funnest part of the excursion; so much so that we went back up via cable car just to slide back down a second time (sans my mother, who had her fill).

Here's a video that Eric took of the ride down.

A man (with the same surname as my family!) at the foot of the Wall, hand-carving a chop to order-- with my Chinese name on it. I think it cost about 180 RMB, which comes out to less than $25 USD.

The trip up to the Great Wall was incredibly strenuous for my brother Kevin.

The Lobster Roll (Lunch)

2007-08-10T21:24:00.000-04:00

Like the multitudes of citydwellers every sweltering summer, we recently made that ritualistic pilgrimage out to the East End of Long Island for our Hamptons/Montauk weekend (my first time out there!!). Because we're more about the lowly food stands and beaches than the clubby celebrity-sighting East Hamptons scene, the unassuming but legendary Lobster Roll restaurant was naturally our first stop. Affectionately known as just "Lunch", this place is for many a destination unto itself, for its simple, fresh seasonal seafood specials.

It's easy enough to spot the fabled sign and lonesome building; just be sure to stop by early since the lines can get long later in the day.

The Fried Soft Shell Crab Roll is really just a whole batter-fried soft shell crab slapped on a flimsy little hamburger bun. Simple, tasty, fried-but-not-greasy, and served with lettuce, tomato, and a tangy tartar sauce for dipping. $11.95.

The eponymous Lobster Roll: gorgeous, meaty, buttery, and packed with an extraordinary volume of pink fleshy goodness. The mayonnaise was not overwhelming but substantial (necessary in my opinion). The hot dog bun was probably the biggest disappointment for me personally: untoasted store-bought generic pale doughy stuff.

For the purists, this is the only true vehicle for the lobster salad. But I'm already thinking, "Would it kill you to use a nice crusty ciabatta roll, or a fluffy country potato roll?" Especially since the market price for this little delicacy was a not-insignificant $17. Of course, I am the same person that prefers provolone to Cheez Whiz on my philly cheese steaks... so you can make the call.

All in all, a simple summer pleasure, showcasing the sweet lobster--unadorned and unfettered with fancy shit.

The Lobster Roll (Lunch)
Napeague Stretch, 1980 Montauk Highway between Amagansett and Montauk
631.267.3740
Open only seasonally (June to September)

No Sleep 'Till...

2007-08-10T21:15:00.000-04:00

Beastie Boys' First Show Ever in Brooklyn. McCarren Pool.

More pictures at my Flickr

Not Chinese: Zucchini Fritters

2007-07-25T21:29:00.000-04:00

Zucchini Fritters
5 various squashes, including patty pan! (about 1 1/4 pounds), grated
1 cup finely chopped onion
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 cup chopped fresh Italian (broadleaf) parsley
1 cup freshly grated pecorino/romano cheese
1 cup (scant) breadcrumbs
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 tablespoon dried oregano
Vegetable oil (for frying)

Yogurt Dip
plain yogurt (FAGE brand!)
scallions
squeeze of lemon
drizzle of olive oil
white pepper

Toss zucchini, onion and salt in large colander. Let stand 1 hour; squeeze
as dry as possible. Transfer mixture to large bowl (do not rinse!) Beat eggs in bowl and then mix in next five ingredients.

Pour vegetable oil into heavy large saucepan to depth of 1 inch. Attach
deep-fry thermometer to side of saucepan; heat oil over medium-high heat to 350°F.
Working in batches, shape zucchini-onion mixture by tablespoonfuls into balls. Add
to hot oil. Fry in batches until fritters are brown, turning once, about 3 minutes
total. Using slotted spoon, transfer fritters to paper towels to drain. Transfer
to platter. Sprinkle with sea salt and serve with yogurt dip.

Please Be Cautious

2007-07-25T10:50:00.001-04:00

At the Forbidden Palace, Beijing, China

Beijing hutong marketplace

2007-06-11T23:15:00.000-04:00

We happened upon a sprawling outdoor market on our second day. Hidden in the expansive heart of a byzantine hutong near our hostel, this bazaar had a huge covered hangar for the produce, bordered by little prepared food and butchery stalls. On one end it drew itself through a gauntlet of junk dealers and into an open courtyard jammed with tables of treasure masquerading as communist-era surplus knick-knacks. This is a corner of Beijing that I hope most will survive the imminent bulldozers, and these are some of the faces that I hope will survive Beijing rising.

Stand aside, Gilroy: almost all of the garlic available in supermarkets today is grown in China.

Eggs and more eggs. A staple of the Chinese diet, the delicious ova from a variety of animals (quail, duck, pheasant, etc) can be found preserved (thousand-year old egg, anyone?), pickled, smoked, hard-boiled or just raw. Look closely at the sample in the front, cracked open for your perusal.

Pickle Heaven! Not only a clever method of preserving surplus produce, pickled veggies are also deeeelicious, briny, crunchy, sweet and sour gems from the gods.

Forget about the sterile tetra-pak blocks of bland bean curd from your supermarket... this is TOFU. You can smell its freshness, hand-made and blocked and sliced to order. Vegetarians of the world, you have these people to thank for perfecting the art of vegetable protein.

A wealthier woman and her shopping companion.

This man is rolling out his wheat dough for hand-cut noodles. In Mandarin, handmade noodles (made traditionally and most impressively without the assistance of a knife) are called soh-la-mien, or literally "hand-pulled noodles". More simply found on menus: la-mien.

Unlike their American counterparts, Chinese children actually interact with food in all its rudimentary forms. Its a facile and intimate knowledge born out of humble markets like this one. Needless to say, I LOVE his little velcro panda shoes.

Beijing rising

2007-06-11T23:03:00.000-04:00

Tune in, kids... we're back from the Middle Kingdom, and ready to show and tell.

Family.
As seen out the car window, en route to the Great Wall at Mutianyu.
June 3, 2007.

Waffle House

2007-06-11T22:46:00.000-04:00

Orlando, Florida, USA.
April 2007.
Yes, I ate this stuff.
And yes, it was delightfully, magically mediocre.

Viva Mexico

2007-02-22T21:49:00.000-05:00

Luis Tigre (or someone playing his accordion), as seen on the N train.

men are the new women

2007-02-22T21:44:00.000-05:00

As seen on the Bowery while waiting in a long ass line to not get into 11 Spring Street...Brought to you by the Most Official Bitches.

A timeless classic: Muppets Take the Subway

2007-02-22T09:41:00.000-05:00

Hey Mister DJ

2007-02-08T20:33:00.000-05:00

So if you're smart, you'll come to see mad fresh DJ Lo-Fi twirl some tunes and thrown down the funk this weekend. In Astoria, fool!

But then you whine, "Ehhhh I don't know where he's playing, nor how to get there!!"
So I slap you upside the head and say:
Hell Gate Social.
12-21 Astoria Blvd.
N/W to Astoria Blvd, walk toward the East River.

So you start crying like a little little baby, "But WHEN this weekend? I'm soooooo busy doing weeeeird stuff as usual!"
Then I stab you in your neck and proclaim:
Saturday Feb 10.
9:30pm.

Thinking you're clever, you tearfully blurt out, "Buuuuut I can't pay a cover!"
To which I respond:
NO COVER.
And then I skull-fuck you.
You know, in the eye sockets and stuff. With a broken bottle.

And that makes little JazzyJeff and the FP really sad. Just do what's best for everyone and come on Saturday to dance dance dance your ass off.

So guns must be the answer, right?

2007-01-16T13:24:00.000-05:00

From yesterday's New York Times:

"After more than 50 years of stability, federal and state prison populations skyrocketed from under 200,000 persons in 1970 to more than 1.3 million in 2002. That year, our imprisonment rate rose above 600 inmates per 100,000 adults. With the inclusion of an additional 700,000 inmates in jail, we now incarcerate more than two million people — resulting in the highest incarceration number and rate in the world, five times that of Britain and 12 times that of Japan."

Full Op-Ed piece on America's wacked-out "mental health system" (read: "incarceration fetish") here

Tournesol: A bit of Left Bank this side of the East River

2007-01-06T22:05:00.000-05:00

Clinton Street Baking Co: Now with 92% less waiting!

2006-12-14T15:23:00.000-05:00

On his recent trip out east, my brother Robert and I ventured over to the LES to sample some of the home-grown breakfast fare at the highly touted Clinton Street Baking Company. It was a random Friday before noon and thus the ONLY time I have ever seen that little cubby hole of an eatery without a wait. That's right, I said it: NO WAIT. Giddy with our good luck and marvelous timing, we immediately snagged one of the half dozen coveted tables (the one by the window, no less!) and got comfy.

The Buttermilk Biscuit Sandwich. Tasty, but let's just say that without the bacon, it would have been a blander eggy-crumble. So shell out the extra $2.50 for the two criss-crossed strips. The cheddar was a bit oily and too mild, but now I'm just being nitpicky. The highlight was the homemade tomato jam-- bright and tangy like a Christmas sweater on an otherwise pallid little kid. Beautiful. But soaked into the crumbly biscuit a little much, making it slightly mushy. The side of home fries were spectacular: golden crunch around the edges, and without any of that crappy red-and-green-bell-pepper junk that most places use to spruce up sub-par potatoes. $10.50 (with bacon)

This is it. Alongside the fabled pancakes, the Brioche French Toast with roasted pecans and caramelized bananas is the raison d'etre for this place. Parfait! Robert wins this round by ordering the best french toast this side of Houston Street: its slightly crisp on the outside and buttery fluffy briochy on the inside. The maple butter served alongside is indispensible. Like Jack Tripper without Janet or Chrissy. The sweet compliment is made for drizzling over each toasty bite. No need for fruit or whipped cream or corn flake coatings, this masterpiece is perfect the way it is. $12

Overall food: A-
Truly tasty, but its not like the biscuits were descended from the hand of Jesus or something (which is what I was led to believe). The coffee was weak but above average. Tried one of their omelet skillet specials once (the "spanish scramble") and it was a bit insipid. The flavors were dissonant. I keep thinking that I should ditch the savory dishes and go for the sweet ones... pancakes next time!
The french toast behemoth was the real star. Having a liquor license (and thus breakfast cocktails) as well as an actual bakery counter is also a plus.

The service: B-
Besides the ludicrous lines and wait times, the wait staff seems overwhelmed in general. The food comes out quickly but rarely are you checked on again. I got my coffee refilled but not my water. You definately feel the push of their table turnover; its not the most relaxing nor leisurely of environments. If you plan on going for Sunday brunch, bring a message in a bottle, because you'll be marooned on Houston Street for hours while your friends chow down at El Sombrero.

The ambiance: B
Frenetic, energetic, and amiable but not convivial or warm. It's got heart, but right now it's totally enamored with being the popular kid so don't expect it to say hi to you in the hallways at school, ok?

Clinton Street Baking Company
4 Clinton Street (East Houston & Stanton), Lower East Side
646.602.6263

juicing without a permit

2006-12-12T23:06:00.000-05:00

As seen posted on the closed doors of the Union Square Jamba Juice. Perhaps the city has found an unlikely source of illicit trans fats? Mmmmm deep fried smoothie...

napping on orchard street

2006-12-12T22:51:00.000-05:00

Not beautiful enough to work at the American Apparel store behind him. Not dapper enough to shop at BBlessing, a block down. Not hip enough to eat at Zucco, accross the street. Not affluent enough to live at the Avalon Chrystie Place. He is the forgotten Lower East Side, and he has a plastic soup jug tied around his neck in case you can spare some change.

Pigeon pancake

2006-12-12T22:48:00.000-05:00

As seen in the middle of the intersection, Allen Street and Houston, the Lower East Side.

Mississippi. Fuggedaboutit.

2006-12-05T15:29:00.000-05:00

From those snarky kids at Gawker, a new reason to book your next vacation in the nation's least literate state:

And their inspired rebuttal:

I think david Berkowitz might just be a better mascot for state tourism than Faith Hill. And everyone knows that poor Jim Henson died of pneumonia only because he was horrified at the idea of going back to Ol'Miss.*

*No one knows this.

HOLY CRAP its like Christmastime

2006-11-08T13:54:00.000-05:00

The Dems win the House. Possibly the Senate. Impotent losers no more! What else could possibly happen on such an auspicious day?

Donald Rumsfeld has resigned as Defense Secretary/Arbiter of Warfare and Senseless Death.

Who will fill the seat? Is little Georgie Bush sad and confused? Is Don just taking the fall for this latest coup d'etat? Will Jesus bring us any other gifts during this glorious holiday season? Will the Rummy action figure skyrocket in eBay value?

So many questions, not enough bow-tied Georgetown pundits to answer them. While our country's varied electoral districts continue to sort out the complex methodologies and malfunctions of rigging elections, at least I take solace in the fact that yet another dastardly robot has been put out of commission.

Bill Frist, you're next.

Hardwired Morality?

2006-10-31T11:54:00.000-05:00

Having grown up, like most Americans, with the cartoony figures of a little angel and a little devil balanced on either shoulder of a perplexed protagonist, this latest article in the New York Times really peaked my curiosity.

The book review takes a brief look at Marc D. Hauser's newly released piece of nerdo porn, Moral Minds (HarperCollins 2006). The question is eternal: Is the moral compass inherently and ephemerally human, distinct from the cold hard truths of natural selection, or could it be yet another target of our burgeoning understanding of evolutionary biology? I, of course, favor the latter. I think progressive thinking has always begun with disillusionment: contrary to religious dogma, we are less the magical children of some patriarchal cloud-dwelling diety than dirty, hairless primates struggling with existence. Our most base instincts are more easily explained by the emerging studies of neurobiology than by the little devil-and-pitchfork perched on our shoulder (left one, of course, sinistre).

Can't wait to put this on the Wish List!

Have you read it? What do you think?

Where's Operation Rescue now?

2006-10-24T09:35:00.000-04:00

This city gives almost-daily examples of neglectful, ignorant, and often poverty-stricken and young parents who made some bad decisions for their children (and by "bad" I mean "abusive or homidical"). Time after time, ACS comes and tries to manage these broken familes while case-workers are overwhelmed and the children just keep coming. Young mothers, without means or an education, periodically accompanied by temporary boyfriends, just keep falling into the same traps of having more and more children for which they are totally unequipped to give care.

So where are all the fanatical pro-life, anti-choice, fundamentalist Christian activists now? They are all so vehement in calling to arms against the innocent physicians and women of America who exercise their right to reproductive health and family planning... only to drop the cause the minute all these "saved" babies are born into environments that never welcomed nor planned for them.

Kevin is a ninja.

2006-10-23T09:51:00.000-04:00

This is my little brother.
He "teaches english" in Japan.
I don't know what he is doing but its hilarious, couched in broad stereotypes and brimming with sophomoric fun, so I stole this video from my other little brother, Robert.

"A gun rack?"

2006-10-19T17:08:00.000-04:00

Stacy: Well, don't you want to open your present?
Wayne Campbell: If it's a severed head I'm going to be very upset
Stacy: Open it.
Wayne Campbell: What is it?
Stacy: It's a gun rack.
Wayne Campbell: A gun rack... a gun rack. I don't even own *a* gun, let alone many guns that would necessitate an entire rack. What am I gonna do... with a gun rack?
Stacy: You don't like it? Fine. You know Wayne, if you're not careful, you're going to lose me.
Wayne Campbell: I lost you 2 months ago. We broke up. Are you mental? Get the net!

Sometimes the only language a psycho hose-beast understands is that of humiliating rejection.

Relive the infantile joy.See more immortal Wayne's World clips on YouTube

This train is not in service either.

2006-10-18T19:28:00.000-04:00

The garbage train at Union Square.

The Flaming Lips: An Epic Experience.

2006-10-16T21:09:00.000-04:00

Wayne Coyne.
The Flaming Lips.
September 25.
Hammerstein Ballroom, NYC
Giant plastic bubble.
A sea of blue rubber balls.
Teletubbies.

And of course, no show is complete without the requisite appearance by the Teletubbies. You don't even need to be high for this shit.

Momofuku: Top Ramen!

2006-10-11T21:14:00.000-04:00

Of course you've heard the buzz. Some people live by it and others eschew the long lines and immoderate pricing. It's no Sawtelle Blvd but that's not what it's aspiring for. The food is great and the locale is accessible and fun. I vote this eatery as Best Gratuitous Use of Pork in 2006. And when you find out that its also the name of the mythical founder of Nissin Foods (Cup O' Noodle), Momofuku Ando, the joy and bemusement becomes unstoppable. Who better to name your ramen house for than the Chairman of the International Ramen Manufacturers’ Association? If only I could have stocked my dorm room with this stuff instead of those evil Top Ramen bricks...

The tight shoebox of a dining space is centered around the open kitchen, where a hip young squad of chefs sling noodles and pitch the pork. The pace is fast and frenetic and convivial, however you are never rushed during your meal. Even large groups (at the larger communal tables near the front of the shoebox) wade through their meals at a leisurely pace while marveling at the dexterity of the kitchen crew. The decor is clean and minimalist (you can only fit so much in here after packing all the Berkshire pork in). You get the feeling that Masaharu Morimoto might come here for late night ramen after a long day on the Iron Chef set.

So there are pork buns and there are steamed Bershire pork buns. Pork buns are already the food of the gods. This interpretation is murderously good; and I've had my share of this delicious dim sum fare. The pulled pork was fatty but not greasy, glistening gloriously in its little pillow. Simple, elegant and unadorned, this is Momofuku's true legacy... Doesn't it look like the little guys are humping? SO cute. $9 for two.

Pickle Mania!! The assorted seasonal pickle platter is definately the way to go: whole baby carrots, cucumbers, celery root (my favorite), radishes, and randomly, pineapple chunks. The sugary tartness of the latter was the perfect compliment to the lightly tangy vingeary crunch of the pickled veggies. Heaven for $7.

Eric wisely opted for the eponymous Momofuku Ramen: Bershire Pork combo atop traditional ramen and topped with the heavenly poached egg. Both noodle bowls were generously garnished with collared greens (more use for the pork fat!), scallions, sliced bamboo shoots, and a sheet of nori (dried seaweed). The broth in this bowl was voluptuous and irresistable. Like $10 crack. But infused with pork.

The gorgeous Pork Neck Ramen. Who knew that a braised pig neck could be so buttery tender and delicious? Well, I guess lots of people. But until this very moment, I was not in the loop. Needless to say, I am now an advocate of this overlooked little part of the porcine anatomy. I loved the broad shanghai ramen, too. Firm and toothsome, this is the meatiest of noodles (without going overboard with something like the doughy udon)... reminds me of my mom's noodle dishes. My favorite part? The poached egg, glossy and wobbly and perched precariously atop the bowl, crowning the dish with its golden gooey eggy goodness. $10

Sweet sweet sake, such a sultry salvation. Junmai variety, chilled: Akitabare Koshiki Junzukuri. Perfect and crisp, not too dry, not too expensive. In short, the noodle bowl's ultimate soulmate.

Momofuku, 163 First Avenue (between 10th and 11th Streets)
212.475.7899
Get ready for a long wait most weekend evenings. Dinner after 5pm.

embrace the consumerist

2006-10-11T14:11:00.000-04:00

Yes, it is exceedingly shallow to covet ridiculously overpriced material goods simply for the superficial joy of owning them. Indeed, Buddhists are renowned for their sagacity in preaching the tenets of minimalism and austerity. Need little, want less.

Clearly those dudes have never felt the demonic, gravitational pull of
The Perfect Shoes.

I would forsake eternal spiritual transcendence for these shoes.

I mean, look at them.

Only at Anthropologie online.

Someone give me $400, quick. Before I come to my senses.

On a slow day in Self-Appraisal Land...

2006-10-02T16:16:00.000-04:00

... I stole this bit of introspective indulgence from the illuminating ms. duluoz cats. Because... why not? Oh, and also because being a wage slave waiting for 5pm totally sucks.

Things I'd like to do before I die
1. Become an expatriate.
2. Learn and record my grandmother's recipes.
3. Acquire life-career fulfillment.

Things I cannot do
1. Enjoy going to the gym.
2. Hold my tongue.
3. Save money.

Things I can do
1. Read Nature for sheer enjoyment.
2. Make a great sandwich.
3. Recite all 50 states in alphabetical order.

Things that attracted me to my significant other
1. Generosity: giving freely of himself.
2. Intelligence: showing me connections that I didn't know existed.
3. Chemistry: inexorable physicality and physiology.

Things I like to say
1. "I mean ..."
2. "I'm just sayin'"
3. "Word."

Books I like best
1. Mother Night, by Kurt Vonnegut
2. Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller
3. The Subterraneans, by Jack Kerouac

Movies I like to see
1. The Big Lebowski
2. Stand By Me
3. Breathless

The Meatpacking District Pledge

2006-09-29T10:59:00.000-04:00

You know how I feel about the vile Meatpacking District. By this time, I've surely broadcasted my vehement disdain for this place everytime a friend reprimands me for having flaked-out on some group event. Invariably, I say "but the friggin' Meatpacking District totally sucks" and somehow feel vindicated in not having shown up to someone's birthday party. I mean... I'm sorry I didn't make it to your Grandma's wake but it was in the MPD and that makes it suck. And its way far west. And it comprises the most pretentious and ostentatiously vacuous stretch of clubs and eateries this side of Hollywood Blvd. No wait, even the Chateau Marmont is more down to earth than the godforsaken MPD! (And believe me, I know... in college we tried to sneak in there). Which is why I was elated when Gawker started their Rancid: How the Meatpacking District Went Bad expose series. It's about time the world knew! Thank you, Jessica Coen!! In your final days as the arbiter of all things judgemental, you have created your most lasting legacy: The Meatpacking District Pledge. I have already committed this pledge to heart and will cite it immediately upon any occasion whereas I am asked to go there. You should too. Because its totally the most bogus neighborhood in New York City. Fuck you, Keith McNally, I choose your pricey brioche at Balthazar, not Pastis! Oh yeah, and Spice Market is totally 2002. Get over it.

then it hit me...

2006-09-25T15:49:00.000-04:00

The dream is dead. Captured by the visionaries over at Streetsy.

Sandwiches for Breakfast

2006-09-24T14:40:00.000-04:00

I think it was former Secretary General to the UN, Boutros Boutros-Ghali, who said that anytime is a good time for sandwiches. I'm lying. But clearly sandwiches are good for much more than lunch, as I've endeavored to prove here. And I don't mean the evil Egg McMuffin (twelve friggin grams of fat?!). Today's breakfast was french toast sandwiches, inspired by my perverse dream of marrying the venerable Monte Cristo with a kitchy cheese blintz. Instead of the traditional ham and turkey, I used cream cheese (and Nutella in an alternate version). Great with Bonne Maman's Four Fruit confiture slathered on top! I used a days-old loaf of ciabatta from our own D&F Deli, sliced the pieces pretty thin, assembled the sandwiches, and then dipped each sandwich in an egg mix (with a bit heavy cream in to add more body to egg). Cooked on a non-stick griddle (with a little butter if you're feeling plucky) for 2-3 minutes on each side... and you're ready!

Versatility in sandwichery is very important, so imagine all the filling possibilties: PB&J, swiss cheese and bacon, honey and walnuts, fruit and chocolate... et cetera. The filling ideas are analogous to those for a crepe but easier to make and you could even freeze them individually and stick them in the toaster for a quick hand-held breakfast on the train.

Oh revered sandwich, how I love waking up to you...

Vamos ala Cafe Habana

2006-09-19T21:14:00.000-04:00

We try to explore new brunch places, but when you have a favorite, its hard to give up that comfy and assured goodness. Cafe Habana is our reliable pillar of brunch strength in Nolita so when my good friend from the college days, Tannaz, came into town we took her straight there. Despite the thicket of oft-obnoxious supermodels and hipsters that also call this tiny eatery home, I am still loyal because of the splendid, vivid food at a cut-rate price. We've been known to wait for up to 30 minutes for this place, so you know its good. The meal started the way they all have: with a double order of their grilled corn. Unfortunately I didn't take any pictures and just ate it, but here's one. Eat your heart out!

The Corona Michelada was first introduced to me by Pham and Amy awhile back. Once partaken, there's no going back, I've been hooked on them ever since. Served as a tall glass of lime juice generously spiked with hot sauce, you pour the cold bottle of Corona into the glass and watch the magic happen. Like a beer-garita! Or a golden [bloodless] mary!

A foray into the sacred realm of the fish taco proved successful. I was nervous at first. I have a special reverence for this one golden child of Baja California and I've had my heart broken by poor facsimiles before. But encouraged to branch out from my usual torta de aguacate, I enthusiastically wolfed this down. Appropriately beer-battered and topped with thin-shredded cabbage, it met all the basic requirements. The fish (probably a cod or other white flaky species) had a nice char along with the crisp batter. My only minor gripe is that there was no chipotle smokiness or creamy white sauce. But these are a point of taste, I suppose.

Eric's quesadilla with chorizo, avocado, and lots of spicy cheese tucked into roasted-pepper tortillas. Dee-licious!

Tannazie's huevos rancheros (you just can't beat that color!)

Out front of the cafe is... Beautiful people and random street trash: big Dior sunglasses barely notice the half-empty bag of rice and old restaurant wok perched on a rattan cabinet.

Cafe Habana
17 Prince Street (at Elizabeth), Nolita
212.625.2002

US Open ...the sideshow

2006-09-06T23:03:00.000-04:00

In the midst of all this tennis fervor, I'd like to take this moment to call attention to the lesser-known beauty of the grounds surrounding Arthur Ashe Stadium: Flushing Meadows Corona Park. Home of the Hall of Science, the Queens Museum of Art, an ice skating rink, paddle boating on the pond, Shea Stadium around the corner, and a plethora of 1960's archetectural ephemera, this park is a lot more than just the scene of ABC Sports' latest cash cow. Sure, its a little shabby around the edges, but it's been awhile since that World's Fair when a lot of the structures were built to impress. At any rate, I would prefer hanging around the giant globe over schmoozing in the US Open big white tent anyways.

Eggplant Sandwich

2006-08-30T21:53:00.000-04:00

The weather has cooled substantially so we decided to actually turn on the stove again ...what better way to signal the end of summer than with some fried eggplant? We got a big beautiful aubergine along with a gorgeous leafy bunch of spicy basil from our trusty CSA and immediately I thought to apply it to Gary's fresh homemade mozzarella in this great recipe. We even used our homemade bread crumbs (created off totally stale baguettes from the Galleries Lafayette, brought back from our Paris trip!) Paired with a zesty bruchetta made with last week's farm fresh tomatoes, this dish makes for a satisfying and glorious dinner (as well as party appetizer if you're so inclined!)

Eggplant Sandwiches

1 big eggplant (or 2-3 medium ones)
1 pound fresh mozzarella ball
3 eggs, beaten
2 cups bread crumbs (seasoned with dried oregano, rosemary, and some thyme)
freshly grated Parmasean cheese
fresh basil leaves
lots of vegetable oil for frying
sea salt & pepper
lemon wedges and/or bruchetta to finish

Cut the eggplants into round slices, about 1/4 inch thick. Soak slices in room temperature salted water for 30 min - 1 hour. Rinse eggplant slices in cold water and press thoroughly dry with kitchen towel.
Cut the cheese into thin slices to match the size of the eggplant rounds.
Mix the dry bread crumbs with parmasean cheese and seasonings in a large shallow dish.
Take two equal sized slices of eggplant, and place a slice of cheese
and a fresh basil leaves between them. Carefully dip the "sandwich" first
into the beaten, and then dredge through the bread crumb and cheese mix, being careful to cover the whole sandwich while keeping it together.
Heat the oil in a large deep skillet about 1 inch deep.
Cook the eggplant sandwiches until they are golden brown (about 7 minutes on each side).
Keep them warm in the oven, while you continue to cook the rest.
Serve them hot, or at room temperature, with a squeeze of lemon and topped with bruchetta.
Yields 6-8 sizeable sandiwches.

With the garlicky bruchetta, it's like an eggplant parmagiana but better. The eggplant slices are golden crisp on the outside and almost melty buttery on the inside. The sandwich holds together well thanks to the egg battering, so this a natural choice for picnics and potlucks! Our next thought is tweaking it, of course, by sticking a slice of heavenly proscuitto di Parma (portabella mushroom for the veggiefarian set) in it. You could also do: thin slices of grilled zucchini or squash, some chunky olive tapenade, or quattro formaggio (mmmm Fontina!)... the possibilities are only as finite as your sandwich-imagination.

Ahhhhh sandwich, you are truly the zenith of hand-held cuisine.

Death to Williamsburg!

2006-08-29T15:25:00.000-04:00

The snarky folks at My Fall Collection tip us off to a new terrorist threat lurking on the L line to Bedford: Hipster Jihad!!!! Be afraid. Or just moderately amused and not afraid at all. Unless you are wearing an ironic t-shirt from 1982 with your $300 shag haircut. Then you should fear for your life.

NYT graphic illustrating the rise of "hipster" in its lexicon over the past twenty years.

More Breaking News: NYC Is Totally Done.

2006-08-25T09:49:00.000-04:00

Listen up, all you starry-eyed, trust-funded NYU undergrad-wannabes from all over the planet! Gawker's got a gem of wisdom this week: New York is Already Over!!

CBGB's is going to Vegas. Ratner's plowing Brooklyn over. Second Avenue Deli's just a memory. Homelessness and abject urban poverty are on the rise. Dismembered body parts are sometimes found on subway tracks.

It is an art form to hate New York City properly. So far I have always been a featherweight debunker of New York; it takes too much energy and endurance to record the infinite number of ways the city offends me. Were I to list them all, I would fill up a book the size of the Manhattan yellow pages, and that would merely be the prologue. -Pat Conroy

6th Avenue Rat, by misterjt

Breaking News: Pluto is dead to me!

2006-08-24T12:27:00.000-04:00

Bastard Ninth Child of our solar system...

...or poorly-defined satellite of a nebulous nature?

Looks like you can forget about that hokey mnemonic you learned in fourth grade to remember the order and number of the planets in our solar system, because look out, Pluto is being booted off the list! The uber nerdos at the International Astronomical Union (IAU to those of us in the know) decided that what we've labeled as the tiny outpost of our planetary neighborhood is actually not a planet proper. This is based on lots of intense data and stuff that no one but CalTech post-docs understand (might I remind you that I got a C+ in Physics 6A in college). Damn you, vectors! But I trust the physicists. I mean, if we stretch the planetary criteria to include Pluto, what's to stop the Death Star from becoming classified as one as well?? Pluto, you are dead to me!

Squasheriffic!

2006-08-22T00:03:00.000-04:00

Its summer squash season! Here's a recent selection we obtained from our CSA and the Greenmarket at the Botanical Garden.

In adoration of bridge-burning.

2006-08-14T11:27:00.001-04:00

I know some people who would be really good at this game. Since I have a streak of masochism, I would try and play along; if only the concept didn't make me want to stab my own eyes out with sharpened popsicle sticks. But if I did that, I'd be no better than the pathetic losers of the world who cling to and make asinine drama out of old shit. I would also have popsicle sticks sticking out of my head. Its just like high school except all the residents of psychoworld are older, fatter, and more excruciatingly trite than I could even imagine. Game on!

dadadadadadadadada

2006-07-31T22:24:00.000-04:00

One beautiful Friday evening we decided to tackle the new Dada show at MoMA and then (with a little planning and reservations for Restaurant Week) transition seamlessly into dinner at the well-regarded Modern Bar Room at MoMA. No pictures allowed in the exhibit, of course. But just imagine the overwhelming majesty of a HUGE and comprehensive survey of Dadaism... inclusive of all media and with multiple historical narratives from the POV of the different international cities (Zurich, Paris, New York, etc) in which the movement sprouted... and there you go. See? you're living Duchamp's ideal of readymade. Complete with urinal. Note that the original "Fountain" was lost years ago and the one that appears in the exhibit is a replica he made years later. I mean, who "loses" a provocative work of art-slash-urinal?

My only true gripe with The Modern's Bar Room is that the illustrious bartender of said Bar Room didn't even know what a Pimm's Cup was. (Did you hear that, Dawn? Taaaacky!) It was like he never even heard of it. Even after some bystanders instructed him (after I gave him the step-by-step recipe), he acted all confused and the drink turned out like total shite. And did I at least get comp'd in such a chichi place?? Noooooooooooope.

A meaty terrine. So dada. And by dada I mean awesome.

Is it an edible work of dada? Is it a perfectly shaped puck of pate? Is it foie gras? Yes.

Duck confit!! I can say no more.

Eric opted for spice-crusted lamb with some sort of noodle (spaezle like?). Well-cooked to perfection (rare) and quite savory.

Dessert: Rum baba ala mode. The ice cream in these things are always too melty runny for me but this was passable. Tasty and not too filling.

Then, on our evening stroll up Fifth Ave toward the N station at Central Park, we passed these chic store windows (Bergdorf? Sacs? something like that)...

Hot Hot Heat

2006-07-31T15:10:00.000-04:00

Zucco: C'est Tres Bon!

2006-07-08T18:12:00.000-04:00

Less than three months after returning from our monumental maiden voyage to France, I am still pining away for the vivid flavors and charming milieu of Paris. In an attempt to ameliorate the mounting cravings for le Pot Au Feu served in a homey, cluttered Parisian bistro, we sought out a recently opened 'french diner' that promised dependable but heady fare like cassoulets and escargot. Zucco: Le French Diner turned out to be even better than a retracing of our steps through the 15th Arrondissement. Just a few subway stops from home, but a world away from the hurried, overly-processed, excessively fattening, factory-fed manner in which Americans are accustomed to eating (see: Applebees, Chilis, Olive Garden, TGIFridays, etc ad infinitum), Zucco and his eponymous bistro are already an indispensible part of this city's culinary skyline.

I have come to covet the hidden little storefront restaurant. The subtle hole-in-the-wall aspect has become a remarkably good indicator of probable dining delight. Zucco's place exemplifies this axiom with its teeny space (there's only room for about 15 people, chef and waitstaff included) brimming over with blooming aromas and tremendous character.

You are warned even before you approach the narrow doorway of the mini-eatery with this hilarious caveat on the sidewalk's blackboard: No ketchup. No Bud. Now that's admirable. He's French so he doesn't give a shit if you bypass this chance at real good French cuisine for another blissfully gluttonous moment at McDonalds. My advice is to venture inside and pretend like you're never heard of Heinz.

My favorite way to incorporate cheese into a meal is as the appetizer (mozzarella sticks be dammed). The salade chevre chaud is a classic course for bistros all across the Continent. Zuccos' version is actually better than its cousin across the ocean because: (1) sheer volume-- you get a giant pillow of warm goat cheese stuffed into a (2)delicately fried, flaky Philo dough pocket. Your generous package of warm, tangy creamy goat cheese is placed, ready for opening, atop a bed of mixed greens tossed with a perfetly complimentary [Dijon] mustard vinegrette dressing. How can I successfully subsist on this alone for the rest of my life? Tell me!! How?!

When we were in Paris, I could not resist getting a croque monsieur, even at the crappy deli/bakery where they were shamelessly pandered as pre-fab bricks of cheap white bread with lumpy bechamel. And so I could not resist the temptation of getting Zucco's croque madame (the monsieur with a fried egg on top) and reveling in even the remote possibility that I might get a moderately priced croque of a better quality on the streets of my own Lower East Side than on the Rive Gauche... and indeed such is the case. This is the Queen of All Hot Sandwiches and this particular one is a perfect homage to such sandwich royalty: thin sliced real ham with gruyere and bechamel, broiled on airy french bread and finished with a fried egg, sunny side up. The bad news? If you haven't tried this, your life is empty.

Tarte tatin!! The apples were perfectly cooked: uniformly tender and buttery without being mushy or mealy, almost like a firm pudding, but better because it was all apple. Eric pointed out the primary fact: that unlike that American icon apple pie, there is none of that syrupy gooey sugary gelatinous binding agent in this tarte tatin that is de rigeur in the apple pie with which we grew up. The crust was almost noodley in consistency. Not flaky (as in shortening based) but soft and thin. The best part? The creme fraiche that accompanies. The genius lies in the savory contrast of the sour cream. Fuck that Cool Whip crap (its not even cream).

Appetizers $6 to $11; salads $6 to $14.50; sandwiches $7 to $11.50; entrees $7.50 to $18.50; desserts $5

Zucco: Le French Diner, 188 Orchard Street (at Houston)
Lower East Side
212.677.5200

Best Homemade Brunch of 2006... so far.

2006-07-05T21:46:00.000-04:00

I love eggs. One time, years and years ago, I had the most perfect incarnation of these delicious proto-embryos. I don't even remember where it was. Somewhere in LA, of course. But I made the attempt to replicate something like that eventful dish last weekend, with mixed results. Though totally yummy, my little experiment didn't turn out exactly as I had planned... Baked Eggs in ramekins with Crisped Proscuitto and Roasted Asparagus. Yes, that's a side salad with goat cheese and cherry tomatoes (to hell with nappy home fries!)

The problem was simple: the eggs were overcooked. Besides the fact that our oven is an abomination to all things culinary (the numbers on the dial are all arbitrary and indicate nothing of the actual real-time temperature), I neglected to place the ramekins into a hot water bath in the oven. DOH! But the roasted asparagus was phenomenal (rubbed with some olive oil and sea salt, spread out on a cookie sheet and placed under the broiler). The proscuitto de Parma puts ordinary hams (Canadian bacon included) to shame and crisped perfectly (with a sprinkle of savory) and made a nice little cup for the eggs... I'll be making attempt Number Two soon using this timely recipe from Anne Quatrano in today's New York Times. What serendipity!

Taste of Brooklyn

2006-07-01T14:20:00.000-04:00

We recently scored free VIP tickets to the Taste of Brooklyn event to benefit City Harvest and other food banks (thanks Kathira!). Four hours of eating awesome little bites from some of the borough's finest restaurants, kickass cocktails and champagne, and of course free schwag bags courtesy Brooklyn Industries at the end of the night. And 100% of the proceeds went toward the charities (not that we contributed much else than our presence). I totally felt like a freeloading college student again (minus the part where I would hoard free sodas from alumni events in my backpack). Awesome.

Behold: the swanky (pronounced "schwankeee") VIP lounge. Some chumps (nee well-heeled Brooklynites) paid $150 for access to this. Too bad it sucked. Sure, Blue Ribbon Sushi was headquartered in this tent. And there was the 1000 year old cognac booth. But all in all, it was just a dead space where the easily fatigued could sit on hastily-upholstered ottoman-chairs while rifling though the free Brooklyn Industries schwag bag (which in itself was quite good). But all the action was outside. With Jimmy the Bartender and the many restaurants' wares...

Several bars were also in good showing, among them the hip Brooklyn Social of Carroll Gardens and the avant garde Galapagos of Williamsburg. Fancy seeing our favorite bartender Jimmy (formerly of the now-defunct Junno's on Downing) there, workin it for Brooklyn Social. The man was slinging out retro rum drinks like nobody's business, proving that he'd lost none of his edge even though Junno's is only a memory now...

Sweet, creamy veloute (of corn?) with some spicy dollops of pepper sauce. If only all cold soups could have this luxurious texture and flavor. Welcome to summertime!

Blue Ribbon Sushi!! Exclusive to the VIP lounge (sort of) and totally worth it. Not because it was mind-blowing sushi or anything, but because these guys were consistently churning out some of the freshest, most coveted food all night... all you can eat!! Some poor planning meant that the best rolls were made too early in the night (avocado-asparagus-flying fish roe-salmon!) and therefore ran out. But even hours later, a reliable spicy tuna roll, no frills, was the perfect amuse bouche.

The professionals at work. Best to get there early (if you sprang for the luxe VIP tickets!) to observe all the last-minute artistry.

A rich stew made from oxtail-- some Australian outback delicacy. Tangy and tomatoey... yet I was told that there's no tomato in it! Just slow-cooked tail. The bony rod sticking out of the pot is just that.

Slices of fresh, rustic bread with little savory treats baked right into them: one variety had sausage or something and the other had duck confit. Brilliant! And goes perfectly mit bier
(a savvy move on their part since this restaurant's also a brewery).

Chicken liver schnitzel: the grossest thing I've ever eaten under the premise of 'good food'. I have no qualms with liver (foie gras rules!) but this was terrible. Greasy, mealy, stone cold and utterly icky.

Fresh mozzarella "eggs" with a little grape tomato as the "yolk", micro arugula, and a pinch of chunk grey sea salt. YUM

Chocolate cake from the Chocolate Room.

Perfect way to finish up the night: with a glass of billion-year old cognac. Mmmmmm.

The Old Tobacco Factory at Empire Fulton Park was the most amazing venue... yes, its right under the majestic Brooklyn Bridge.

Back to Brooklyn, via the LIC.

2006-06-15T21:54:00.000-04:00

Last weekend we decided to brush off the old bikes for their inaugural summer season ride. Having gotten to the LIC and PS1 pretty quickly, we endeavored to head over the Newtown bridge into Greenpoint and Williamsburg. Along the way we made a pitstop to check out 5 Pointz, LIC's own 'Institute of Higher Burnin', where artists have legally overtaken a series of old warehouse buildings under the 7 train tracks to create a living monument to street art. Artists are free to add their distinctive flourishes to any open surface on the grounds over the weekend, and during the week you must call/e-mail to make 'reservations'. Legit! MoMA's sexy bastard Queens offspring PS1 Contemporary Art Center is across the street and it preens with jealousy.

Ode to the Dutch Master: who said that street art isn't high art?

New York City's Finest doing what they do best: standing around, scratching their crotches and suspiciously eyeing the Puertorriquenos at McCarren Park, Williamsburg.

Condemned pool complex that will play host to one of this summer's most insane shows: Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Sonic Youth.

Someday, when ClearChannel finally turns the pool at McCarren Park into the Fanta-WorldCom Memorial Stadium, you will tell you kids that it used to be this.

Greatgodfather of Soul!

2006-06-15T21:50:00.000-04:00

That's Mister James Brown to you. And yes, he can still do the splits. Irving Plaza. A few weeks ago.

Waiting outside a Shack

2006-06-15T21:00:00.000-04:00

In the short time since its birth, the bouncing bundle of joy known as the Shake Shack has been terrorizing the hearts and minds of New Yorkers everywhere. The lines are long. The wait for your food is equally arduous. The pidgeons of Madison Square Park are getting ready to poop on your head. The price is reasonable, but by no means dirt cheap. Why queue up for a designer burger when you can walk over to the Wendy's on 23rd and grab one there for half the price? I contend that its (1) become a right of passage for burger aficionados, and (2) really one of the best in the city. Additionally, their menu is quite extensive, which is like its only point of domination over the monolithic In-N-Out Burger of my homeland...

The corrugated metal siding gleams in the sun, forming a clarion call to all new york burger enthusiasts. The outdoor seating is plentiful but on a day like this (we went on a Sunday at 6pm) the line is still totally ludicrous... our wait time was only about 40 min that day. But the stories are true about the lunchtime crowd wrapping a line out the park and onto 23rd Street. Bring a book.

Shack Burger, thy name is hallowed. To settle the matter off the bat: no, it is not at good as In-N-Out. Are you crazy? But for $4.38, its cheaper, bigger, tastier and better made than the Burger Joint. The handmade pretty patty is juicy, not overcooked, and well-seasoned. Word on the street is that Danny Meyer grinds the chuck (high grade sirloin and brisket) at his nearby restaurant 11 Madison. Good to know. The toasted bun is springy and absorbs the greasy meat juice runoff perfectly. Again, its no sponge dough from In-N-Out, but not everyone can make hamburger buns like the crazy Mormons.

The fabled CONCRETE frozen custard shake changed my life. Pictured here is the best of their evil creations: the Hopscotch. For $5.77 you get a vanilla frozen custard blended with chocolate toffee, hot caramel, and Valhrona chocolate chunks. There was so much dark, delectable chocolate at the end of the shake that I had to bring the chunks home and put the cup in the freezer. Totally worth it.

Golden krinkle cut fries: reminisent of elementary school lunches, only not soggy and laced with crack. Well, maybe a little crack. $2.08

Wash it all down with... a Chicago Dog! $2.77 for your daily allowance of sauerkraut and tomatos on frankfurter. I wasn't man enough to do it but my husband was and from what I can tell, the hotdog should constitute its own dessert course.

Thank you for your understanding... that no normal human being should be hoarding more than six Shack Burgers at once. Chubbo!Its still debatable whether they'll do an 'animal style 4-by-4' ala In-n-Out.

Shake Shack
Southeast corner of Madison Square Park, near Madison Ave. and E.23rd St.
212.889.6600

Bloated smoker

2006-06-15T09:43:00.000-04:00

Photograph of NYC "6th Ave" rat enjoying a cigarette from Jason Toney, misterjt on Flickr, via Gothamist. Mmmmmm ripe like summertime!

Sleepy

2006-05-19T16:17:00.000-04:00

Find your own pose!

"Sometimes I think that I'm bigger than the sound"

2006-05-04T22:30:00.000-04:00

My favorite band of the past 13 years played the Roseland Ballroom on Wednesday night and not even a suffocating sea of obnoxious music geeks packed into a notoriously cavernous venue could stop me from seeing them play. They were only playing two dates in NYC and we had already heard about the hijinks from the first night's show (Karen O's unabashed, show-stopping energy and propensity for spitting beer into the audience was a selling point).

I don't know who opened for them and frankly who cares. Although they were a bit late in starting, once they hit the stage the YYYs were unstoppable. They are among the most earnest and heartfelt performers I've ever seen, and their fervent honesty beguiles the masses. Or at least placates them with infective, thudding beats.

"Y Control" was phenomenal. "Phenomenon" was phenomenal. Their only shortfall was neglecting to play "Art Star", as everyone had expected. But I'm pretty sure the YYY's don't give a fuck about expectations.

You know that their YYY logo would make a great nouveau hipster menorah. No pyrotechnics, just a gigantic logo backdrop that seemed diminutive when fronted by the enormous sound.

And as a part of their orgiastic finale, Karen O burst into flames. Not really but isn't that what she looks like? A flaming ball of rock n' roll. She actually came back onstage for the encore dressed in a scrappy Halloween skeleton-cum-StevieNicks outfit. "They don't love you like I love you..."

The Yeah Yeah Yeah's long-anticipated new album is
Show Your Bones. In stores now. In my head for weeks. Touring through the UK and then hitting Europe. Hard.

As seen on NewYorkOverheard

2006-04-27T22:32:00.000-04:00

Guy: Hey, Mayor Koch!
Ed Koch: Yes?
Guy: You were the worst fucking mayor.
Ed Koch: Yeah? Well, fuck you!

–West 4th & Greene

Kabab Cafe: The crown jewel of Astoria's Little Cairo

2006-04-27T18:12:00.000-04:00

If you didn't know what to look for (eg, if you're a Manhattanite) you might miss the totally nondescript storefront entrance to this fabled eatery. You look down at the torn Time Out article clutched in your hand and wonder if this is the place, since the last three stores you passed all seem to share the same street number. Your bravado is rewarded the instant you step into the world of Ali El-Sayed, chef and propietor of the Kabab Cafe.

The intoxicating smells of grilling meats melds perfectly with the wanderlust inspired by the colorful and heartfelt dining room. The casual seating and eclectic art inspire conversation and sharing. Ali decorated the space with a mix of the domestic and exotic: sepia-toned portraits of his mother and other family hang near old newspaper clippings and rare musical instruments. His brother Moustafa (who owns his own restaurant, Mombar, a few stores down) hand-crafted all the beautifully intricate mosaic tops of all the tables. Not only are you eating works of art, you are immersed in them.

The artisan in his studio. The open kitchen is the small but vibrant heart of the space, with 6-8 tables arrayed against the walls. Even without the enticing aromas, this world-class chef would be able to fill a room based on the sheer force of his charisma alone. If you go early enough to have him to yourself, he will talk to you from his open kitchen, waxing philosophical on everything from recipes to relationships. Assisted by only one other cook, Ali has been transforming a tiny Steinway nook into a convivial salon for friends and foodies alike for over a decade.

I deem you The Best Mixed Meze Plate in Astoria. Which is saying a lot since this neighborhood may singlehandedly churn out the majority of the hummus consumed in the tri-state area. This unbelievable spread contains the requisite buttery nutty hummus, but also the creamiest baba ganoush I've ever tasted. The fool (lentils) is the savory superior of a bean dip. The physical and spiritual heart of this appetizer plate is the deep-fried escarole: served directly from the sputtering pan, it is amazingly crisp and melts in your mouth. Not to be outdone, the cute little falafel balls that ring the plate are perfectly crunchy golden on the outside and slightly green and tender on the inside. They were born to be married to the hot sauce in a glorious ceremony in my mouth. Everything is spiced with some magical proprietary mix containing sumac, which is a delightfully tart powder that Ali sprinkles on your plate before serving. Ten dollars. Yes, you heard me right. $10.

Heavenly homemade hot sauce. I don't know what was in it, besides what Ali loving calls "Egyptian hocus pocus".

The eponymous kababs. The combination platter is the way to go: for $15 you get lovely tender chunks of grilled meat (your choice of chicken, beef, or lamb served off the skewer) as well as kefta nuggets (ground beef and lamb). The meats are perfectly supported by a medley of grilled vegetables: zucchini, carrots, onions, and peppers. One bite is enough to convince you that humans were designed to be carnivores.

The perfect palate cleansers: hot tea. The licorice tea with apple slices as well as the traditional mint (not pictured) were piping hot yet mellow, calming and refreshing. Like going to a day spa but only costing $2.50.

Once, I thought I knew what lamb was. Then I ordered one of the specials of the day: slow cooked lamb shank in a chunky tomato sauce with grilled vegetables. Never once did I grapple with a knife, the succulent meat just fell right off. The white rice pilaf is fluffy and flavorful. The sauce was so tangy that I asked Ali if vinegar was the secret ingredient. He laughed and fervently motioned me over to him, standing at a burner in the kitchen. He generously invited me to look at the key ingredient, sitting in a colander amongst all the other accoutrements of a masterful kitchen... it was whey. As in the liquid that runs off of the homemade yogurt (curd) when strained. Mixed right into the sauce! It was as if the secrets of the universe were revealed to me and I returned humbly to my table a few feet away to devour the fruits of genius. Ali is practically giving this away to the masses at $13 a pop.

These two guys walked in while we were eating. Old friends who have been patrons for more years than I've had a driver's license. They were vegetarians and got plates and plates of special salads (avocados?!) dished up fresh... none of which were on the menu. Ali saw me eyeing one and boisteriously threw me some salad from the bowl to sample. Delicious! What is this and how do I order it? Call ahead, he said. Mental note: put Ali on speed dial.

Utterly stuffed, we had no choice but to decline the dessert offerings. Next time, we said. But before we could finish saying "no thanks" Ali was there with this plate in hand; he said I had the "look" that said I really did have room for dessert. His gift to us was the golden honey cake made with semolina so refined that it was hard to believe that this was born of the humble corn plant. Soaked in a toothsome yet light honey syrup, this little delicacy reminded us yet again that indeed Ali knows best.

Kabab Cafe, 25-12 Steinway Street, Astoria (at 25th Avenue)
718.728.9858

Midtown's worst-kept secret: the Burger Joint

2006-04-24T17:00:00.000-04:00

No one even pretends to maintain secrecy about the famed cheap eats Burger Joint nestled within the sleekly gilt lobby of Le Parker Meridien hotel on 57th Street. Walk authoritatively through the schmancy hotel foyer and aim directly for where everyone is: the dark nook behind the brown velvet curtains. Nowadays you'd have to either be unemployed or the office sycophant to be able to justify the hour-long waits at lunchtime just to get an order in. After more waiting, your best bet is to take your precious packages to nearby Central Park for the actual devouring because the limited communal tables and elusive booths are perpetually packed. Yes, the crowd is very discouraging. But where else in midtown can you get such a great burger for $6? Maximize your dollar further with a $17 pitcher of Sam Adams. But if you're in for the splurge, get the old-fashioned milkshake for $4.50 a pop. And feel free to tell everyone about it; afterall, they already know.

The way to the Joint is now clearly marked by a kitchy neon sign (to go along with its nouveau-ironic, wood-paneled interior), as if the giant gauche brown velvet curtains weren't enough of a trailmarker. Follow your nose.

If you're lucky, the queue will only be to the door. With high demand as a constant, the folks here have no times for games. There are instructions for "how to order" handwritten up on a piece of cardboard so that you won't be a stuttering idiot when its your turn (if you still falter, they warn you that you'll be sent to the back of the queue). So be decicive, don't get distracted, and if all else fails just say "the works" and something yummy will eventually come to you. Savvy table-hawks will pounce on one of the few coveted booth seats as soon as they hear the hollow slurp of the empty soda.

Behind the counter is an earnest and efficient staff of no-nonsense burger chefs. The deep fryers are the birthplace of their evil french fries: hot, fresh, slightly greasy and nostalgic of drive-thru fast food.

The cheeseburger is solid: cooked to specification (yes, they gladly do "rare") and topped with a variety of condiments, this meaty darling is slightly bigger than a slider but smaller than a restaurant-sized entree. Which is perfect because it leaves room for the golden shoestring fries and thick ice-creamy shakes. Order the burger with the works for the best effect (ketchup, mustard, pickles, lettuce, tomato, onion, mayo). The buns are minimalist supermarket generic and perfectly fulfilled in their purpose of holding the whole show together. There's nothing elaborate about this meal; you're in it for the no-frills flavor, remember? The fries come in a greasy brown paper bag and the generous milkshake comes in a waxen-paper cola cup but the effect is worth a million dollars.

And of course, the endorsement with the greatest gravitas is that of the illustrious Stephen Colbert. If I trust anyone's estimation of burgeriness, its Mr. Colbert. Go America.

The Burger Joint at Le Parker Merdien Hotel, 118 W. 57th Street, Midtown
212.245.5000 (main hotel line)

Off to Paris!

2006-04-06T18:35:00.000-04:00

We are off to Paris for a week so get ready for all the scrumptious food pictures to come! Until then, here are some selected shots from our own metropolis that inspire the Parisian spirit... A bientot!

The lights at Grand Central Terminal, above the Vanderbilt Ave entrance.

Food is love. (Chinese food cart at W. 46th St and 6th Ave, next to Moshe's falafels)

St. Patricks on St. Patricks.

My husband the boulanger: homemade sourdough loaves.

Inside looking out, eating at Mundo in Astoria.

The fountain at the New York Botanical Gardens.

Lil' Bistro 33: more than a lil' delicious.

2006-03-25T12:29:00.000-05:00

On a brisk Saturday afternoon last week we were lucky enough to join some friends for brunch at Lil' Bistro 33, an inconspicuously tiny restaurant in our neighborhood that can barely contain its boundless charm. Touted as french/asian fusion, this diminutive gem serves dinner every night except Mondays (closed), and now brunch on the weekends.
The restricted hours are a reflection of the bistro's homegrown sensibility-- it feels more like you're eating in Chef Gary's living room than in a commercial operation. Indeed the chef is making his magic not more than a few feet away from you in the boxcar-shaped kitchen with a cut-out counter (for additional seating and views of the culinary feats). And magic it is: Gary and his sushi chef Jasmine are the dynamic duo behind all the creations, from inception to execution. His inspired dishes seem to begin as just a sketchy idea, to be fleshed out through experimentation and careful artisanship, finally reaching your mouth in a crescendo of flavor and invention.
The brunch menu runs the gamut from comforting favorites (french toast) to innovative tributes to true fusion cuisine (bok choy could be a good side dish to the crispy tofu). The same is true of the dinner menu, where you could be chasing a duck confit salad appetizer with some curry vegetable tempura. The sushi menu is substantial, with lots of original special rolls, but take note: its only available Thurs-Sat nights. A good time to confirm their flexible and fresh menus is when you call in for reservations (highly recommended).

This was a special treat sent to us by the chef: panko-crusted fried goat cheese with an apricot sauce... we've had this before at a previous meal here at Lil' Bistro and I can say in all honesty that its my favorite amuse buche in the world. Like a crackhead, I might rob an old lady for another fix. The stout disk of goat cheese is rich, creamy, tart, and slightly warm from being fried. The consistency is pure food magic: its got integrity (not runny) but it literally melts in your mouth. The lightly crunchy crust (never greasy) holds it all in and makes the whole experience feel so marvelously guilty.

You're looking at the Seared Sesame Tuna Salad with bacon vinaigrette. ($12) This tasted just as good as it appears: the fresh tuna slices were tender and almost buttery in texture while the sesame crust gave it perfectly nutty flavor. The dressing was the actually the scene-stealer, with its tangy bacony zest that mingled the tuna ideally with the bed of greens underneath. Real smoky chunks of bacon. Sweetened vinaigrette. Soft seared tuna. You could never go back to pancakes for brunch again.

As a side, the crispy shredded potato sticks were both a fun and yummy solution to the typical too-filling homefries fiasco. I love my potato-based sides, but most of the time the mountain of bland starch (sometimes with a few pathetic green peppers, right?) you get only weighs down the entree. For a measely $2 this clever alternative keeps it light and crunchy, like skinny little kettle chips but better.

The real stand-out on this menu of imaginative delights was the Truffled Eggs and Salmon in Puff Pastry Bowl. The scrambled eggs were fluffy and made pleasantly earthly by the truffle oil, complimenting the delicate but large chunks of salmon as god intended. The puff pastry was flaky and buttery and did its part to hold its precious cargo. I especially liked piling a little mound of the shredded crisped potato in each bite to give it a little more of a salty crunch (I'm also guilty of tucking potato chips into my tuna sandwiches sometimes, don't hate me). Amazingly, this too only sets you back $12.

Most brunches aficionados know that the meal typically includes either a less-than sanguine bloody mary or a watery mimosa. But brunches here include the option of a Tokyo Sunrise, an ingenuious concoction of chilled sake, yuzu juice, OJ, and a little grenadine for that lovely sunrise. A sublime accompaniment to such innovative and delicious cuisine.

Lil' Bistro 33, 33-04 36th Avenue, Long Island City
718.609.1367 (be sure to make reservations!)

Midtown's Hidden Cheap Eats: double-time action!

2006-03-23T20:49:00.000-05:00

I resolved to explore a new stratum of midtown lunch options in and about Rockefeller Center as part of my ongoing battle against the overpriced mediocrity and fast food that had overrun this land of skyscrapers. Since I've exhausted most of the kabob/falafel carts in a 5-block radius, I decided to transition into brick-and-mortar establishments. But my criteria was twofold: it should be reletively cheap and absolutely quirky. So naturally I tried both a Jewish Uzbek place and a Punjabi buffet... who needs crappy Quizno's?

Here you'll find something more coveted than the millions of carats of diamonds packing every window front: hot and fresh homemade Glatt Kosher Uzbek cuisine.

First sign you're on the right track: the conspicuously long line of people who look like they're loitering in a stairwell. Because they are. Urgently.

More waiting...

Look for this window on the fourth floor. You should push your way past the tense, waiting queue. Look like you know what you're doing. Once you get the attention of someone on the other side of the hole, you only have a few seconds to blurt out your order-- they're insanely busy here. After you say something that sounds like "meat dumplings" or "kabob", wait nervously as they make it fresh and toss it to you. Of course if this is all a little harried for you, just join the queue to start the arduous wait for one of those coveted half a dozen tables.

This is what all ethnic, cheap, hand-held foods aspire for: the meat pie!! This incarnation is called the samsa but I can only muster one component sound: mmmmmm. Unlike the more familiar Indian samosa, this delicious little gift is not fried but baked. Its HUGE. The pastry shell is not as flaky as crunchy. The filling is serious stuff: minced (not ground) beef with lots and lots of sauteed onions. Another perfect partner for some hot sauce.

This is lepeshka, or Bukharian homemade bread. For $2 you get a hefty chunk (a quarter of a huge circular loaf) that is still warm and spongy on the inside but delightfully crusty on the outside. The skin is a little blistery and crackly like a sourdough, but thinner. If only they included some olive oil for dipping!!

The enduring favorite of Central Eurasia peoples: the manty (the Afghani incarnation is manto). These beautiful handmade dumplings are packed with savory beef, onions, peas, and other symphonic spices. Their delicate appearance betrays their savagely tasty inner nature; they virtually fall apart in your mouth to reveal a slow-cooked marvel that humbles any home chef. The only drawback? This dish calls in vain for real hot sauce.

Nestled between numerous nondescript delis and expensive sandwich/salad bars, this vegetarian haven in the middle of 45th Street is much bigger than it looks from the outside. The interior is modern and exceedingly clean, with a substantial pastry display tempting you the minute you enter. Keep walking and you get to a cozy dining area in the back, where you can get a $10.95 all-you-can-eat lunch buffet (including desserts and hot masala tea). Sadly, if you're one of a gazillion midtown office slaves that has no time for eating-in (welcome to my life), take pause at the large hot bar offering up endless combinations of Indian delight.

Half of the offerings at the take-out lunch buffet counter. From left to right: the hearty suki bhaji (potatoes with cashews, golden raisins, and coriander... spicy!), the tangy chana masala (my favorite! chickpeas and onions in a rich tomato based sauce), the fragrant kadhai paneer (homemade cheese cubes with peas and other veggies in a spicy creamy sauce), and the anchor of all Indian cuisine, dal dhokli. Unlike the watery, runny salty brown mess you get at most cheap Indian restaurants, the dal here is rich and savory with whole piles of dark lentils that gather on your naan as you dip. Its all spicy enough to warrant a cooling nip of raita but never overwhelming. For $4.99/lb, you'll lament the inherent weight of such satisfyingly rich foods (it can easily cost $8-$10 for a lunch so filling you might skip dinner). There's also the Lunch-To-Go special for $8 (best buy) that includes 2 vegetable entrees, dal or kadhi (thick sauce sometimes with pakoras), farshan (crispy fried snackies), sweets, paratha, rice, and pickle!!! Oh yeah, they even have half a dozen dosai.

Poori, the puffy crisp fried bread that forms the basis of many tasty chat (small bites or snacks). For a measely $5 you can get the Sev Poori: puffy bread stuffed with potato, onion, sweet & sour sauce and topped with sev (the crunchy, thready lentil noodles) and coriander leaves. All chat dishes are $5, except the Chutney Sandwich that tops the menu (consisting of potato, cucumber, tomato, onions, and coriander chutney). The strict vegetarianess of it all almost escapes you in the midst of all the yummy possibilities...

Taam Tov Glatt Kosher Restaurant, 46 W. 47th Street, 4th Floor (between 5th and 6th Aves but soon to be moving across the street to 41 w. 47th, 3rd Floor), Diamond District
212.768.8001

Sukhadia's Indian Vegetarian Gourmet, 17 W. 45th Street (between 5th and 6th Aves), Midtown (locations also in NJ and Chicago!)
212.395.7300

Johnny Walker Blues

2006-03-23T20:36:00.000-05:00

As seen at the Johnny Walker Blue whiskey tasting event...

D&F Italian Deli: A sign that God loves us and wants us to eat cheese

2006-03-20T21:08:00.000-05:00

I don't have an old Italian grandmother but if I did I'm sure she'd come and stock her pantry here. Conveniently located between the fabric store and the hardware store, all your imported gourmet food needs are met here. Be sure to go early because the ciabatta bread in the window tends to sell out early everyday.

The big shiny freezer case is home not only to "John's" brand of raviolis and pastas but also Casinelli as well as D&F's own pre-prepared dinners. Take home a veal scallopine and pretend that you can actually cook. My favorite is the spinach raviolis by Casinelli but John's artichoke ones are great too.

The Man himself. Gary leads a team of deli professionals who are all super awesome dudes: they're always smiling, knowledgeable and courteous and wield the chromed beast of the deli slicer with skill and love.

Look for the imported torrone (nougat) in the green box... and the fresh breadcrumbs behind the counter... and the Illy coffee... and the homemade basket cheese... and the big can of sardines in olive oil...

Cacciatores and sopressatas are so versatile that they function as interior decoration too. Cured meats grow on trees? No just from the little meat hooks that dot the space above the counters. Gary will tell you that "cacciatorini" means "little hunter" because the hunters of yore would pack these little meat snacks into their pockets for brief forays into the woods. Trail mix be damned. Cured meats AND an education!

Lightly salted mozzarella ball: still freshly squishy and warm to the touch. Note the bubbles and pockets. That's where the flavor's at.
(Tip: their best imported cheese is the Flor di Sardegna
which is my absolute favorite for picnicking-- its a sheep milk cheese that is crumbly, tart, dry, and salty... almost like an aged parmasean that melts in your mouth!)

"Polly-O" is thoroughly humiliated by this incredibly fresh and juicy mozzarella. The whey is still settling out of the cheese and the slices are so springy that they squeak against your teeth.

D&F Italian Deli, 35-13 Broadway, Astoria
718.728.2422 (YES they do catering!)

All in the Family

2006-03-16T19:56:00.000-05:00

Let's say you're as lucky as we are and live in Astoria. One Tuesday night it occurs to you that you urgently need some mochi ice cream (green tea flavor of course), a bamboo sushi mat, MSG-coated salt, BOSS coffee drink, squid jerky, Tokyo-action-video rentals (!) and of course a shiso leaf. Its midnight. What the hell do you do? Take a leisurely stroll down to Family Market, of course! Pictured here is but one of their cornucopia of Japanese delights: CalorieMate balanced food block. Only 400 calories, block-shaped to boot and available until 1am, seven days a week.

Family Market Japanese Convenience Store, 29-15 Broadway (across the street from Crap Town supermarket), Astoria
718.956.7925

FilmChefs: the blockbuster hit of the year...in my belly.

2006-03-15T20:45:00.000-05:00

A few hungry Astorians set out for a gratifying lunch one gusty afternoon. They found themselves at Jonathan Forgash's outpost of culinary delight in Long Island City, conveniently nestled between half a dozen train lines and the Silvercup Studios. Sure, they deliver. But why not just invite 25 friends over for their catering magic?

This expansive torpedo of foil-paper-wrapped sandiwichy goodness is how you'll get your hot sub. Big, sleek and shiny, its a lot cheaper than a sportscar. And tastier.

Jonathan's fabled Cubano Melt in detail: roast pork, ham, swiss, garlic mayonnaise (this is seriously great schmear), pickles, and hot peppers. I am an evangelical follower of the cult of the cubano and this was one of the best I've ever devoured. It can convert anyone with its juicy pork accentuated with crisp tart pickles and peppers. Where does the melty cheese end and the mad garlicky mayo begin? It doesn't matter, don't question the Cubano.

The Turkey Club Melt was Meg's wise choice: fresh roasted turkey, bacon, swiss, and mayo on an italian hero. What can melty savory cheese not do? The answer is nothing.

The Key Lime pie is the perfect tangy yet rich finish. There's also apple and pecan varieties, chocolate cake or fruit plates depending on availability (and space in your belly).

The space is really bright and relaxing while not sacraficing efficiency and still being incredibly accessible. A big wall of windows flanked by more counterspace seating is facing 43rd Ave and brings in so much light that the room feels much bigger than it might be. They've got tons of daily specials (next time I get a chance I will do the soups) as well as reliable favorites written up on consecutive backboards. On a blustery day like this, this warm inviting spot with its gracious host was a welcome respite from an otherwise blah Wednesday.

FilmChefs, 43-01 21st Street, Long Island City
718.956.0725

The Orchid Thief

2006-03-15T19:39:00.000-05:00

I was never a flower aficionado. Sure, they're pretty but most bouquets are just as nice as others (barring the use of the dreaded carnation)... aren't they? I mean, they eventually die anyways. And everyone can agree that wearing floral patterns is OUT. But then I read a bit of Susan Orlean's New Yorker piece on how the most sensuous of these plants are obtained and trafficked (infamously immortalized by the film 'Adaptation'). Could the source of honeybee attraction be anything more than watercolory pastel pastiches? I went to the New York Botanical Garden's breathtaking Orchid Show and found the answer is yes. [I've included the tag names where I could, following the picture]. And no, I did not steal any.

Brassolaeliocattleya, or Wanda's Fire "Orange Delight".

Miltassia, or Charles M. Fitch "Izumi".

Ludisia discolor jewel orchid.

Phalaenopsis moth orchid.

Paphiopedilum Saint Swithin type of slipper orchid.

Odontocidium Wildcat "Green Valley" type of American Moth orchid.

Thunbergia mysorensis,the mysore clockvine.

Oncidium Twinkle "Whitecap" or, dancing ladies orchid.

Vuylstekeara cambria "Noyo"

Mo Pitkin's satisfies

2006-03-15T18:55:00.000-05:00

Sunday night cries out for kosher fusion comfort food. So we answered the call, along with our friends Pham, Amy and Adam and headed over to Mo's House of Satisfaction in Adam's new neighborhood. They've got a respectable bar in front, true. But venture past it into the cozy dining room and settle into the vintage booths-- if only in preparation for your own upcoming Neo-Seder. When we went the place was all ours: empty except for a few grizzly evillage locals lurking in the shadows like film extras. And the host that looked like pre-makeover Jack Osbourne.

Did you think you'd had the most delicious fries in the world already? I did. Then we ordered the insane Manchego Garlic Fries side dish and suddenly there was a paradigm shift. Golden crispy from the subtle coating of manchego cheese, these things use the slivers of garlic to transcend normal potato finger foods and enter the realm of mythical. Heart disease be damned!

These monsters of crustacea, the Shrimp al Ajillo might seem like they were going to conquer Amy, but don't let appearances fool you. This girl knows how to eat and made short work of these jumbo shrimp.

Pham's enviable order of Grilled Skirt Steak with chimichurri served with fries isn't exactly what your bubby would serve at Passover but damn it was good.

Adam got the Rotisserie Kosher Chicken served with a side of scallion cream cheese mashed potatoes au jus. He battled valiantly and devoured most of the bird uninterrupted by his Blackberry so I must assume it was delicious. And kosher!

A new level of cuban sandwich art: Mo's Cuban Reuben sandwich. For a substantial $12 you get this fabulous study in fusion, the bastard lovechild of the porky cubano with the zestly reuben. Thick-cut bacon, shredded pork, corned beef, sauerkraut, melty cheese, pickles, and Russian dressing. The bread is good but barely stands up to the load. If you think you're ready for this, think again. Not for the faint of heart (or the kosher of diet). But rewarding for those who are willing. Reheats well the next day (normal human usually eat only half, I think).

Naturally you get a few gelt with your check at the end of the meal. It has nothing to do with pirates, as I've learned... so who cares if Uncle Mo was a real person when you get chocolate coins at the end?

Mo Pitkin's House of Satisfaction, 34 Avenue A (between 2nd and 3rd streets), East Village
212.777.5660

Springtime calling....?

2006-03-13T22:28:00.000-05:00

As seen sprouting from the front yard of the Davidson homestead (soon to be vacated) in Copiague, Long Island.

Vamos ala Mercadito

2006-03-13T20:23:00.000-05:00

Although my legendary Search for the Best Burrito in NYC ended without much fanfare a couple of years ago, the lure of authentic fish tacos drew my vulnerable side out once again to venture in Alphabet City for the much-touted Mercadito.

I've been hurt before. My disappointment ran the gamut from the exorbitantly expensive to the cheap and mediocre rice-filled abominations of the East Village. Rosa Mexicana was a wretched whore who tempted this displaced Angeleno with the promise of real mexican food but only broke my heart with criminally overpriced gringo facsimiles. Burritoville was a leukwarm attempt at the burrito arts, as was San Loco. Let's not even talk about the ubiquitous Fresca Tortillas run by well-meaning but not-Mexican Chinese people.

I only struck gold when I moved to Astoria and discovered the truest taquerias in Nueva York (see posting on Los Portales). Since then I have been more forgiving and here I am, willing to try what is rumored to be "pricey" Mexican fare... if only because the elusive fish taco is still like a sasquatch around here: mythical but never convincing.

Here is what we found at this East Village bastion... Most notable is the fact that this place is not of the hearty burrito type. This place doesn't dish up a sea of rice and beans with anything because the portions are small and meant to be like tapas and shared amongst dining companions. Average cost of the taco platters are $10-$15 for four petite works of art. Not unreasonable but definately not Chipotle fare. Its worth remembering that they also serve brunch... and that they have an awesome sounding "All You Can Eat" taco proposition after 11pm on selected nights. $20 gets you all the tacos you can bear. See you there.

You thought you knew what a margarita was. But perhaps we should all stop embarassing ourselves (as well as Jimmy Buffett) and think outside the box. Pictured here is the Margarita Tres Citricos with Torada tequila anejo, orange, grapefruit and lemon juices, and... get this, HABANERO chiles! Total genius. My husband was ballsy enough to actually take a bit out of the garnishing habanero straddling the glass and yeah lets say thats some authentic pepper action. It brought out the tang of the citrus triplet and in turn was made spicier by the acidity of the juices. The fine tequila drew them all together with its smooth but volatile finish.
[Not pictured: my Margarita de Pepino with Torada, cucumber, chile de arbol and scant lime. On the other end of the spectrum of spice: not hot but kicky and tempered with the coolness of the cucumber. Its got a goofy spa-like feel to it and I think the Oasis Day Spa should start serving this along with those massages.]

The space is so warm and intimate you almost feel like a massage is in order, not plates of delectable mexican food. The front dining space is narrow for the bar (mas tequila mas) but walk a bit further and down the back stairs and you get to a little sunken dining room lined with high windows that they open in the summer. The tables are cozy with concrete benches lining the walls. The vibe is classy but not snooty at all.

Avocado Lovers Unite!! Under the banner of this Three Guacamole Tasting I believe that world peace is attainable. Experience this:
1) tradicional: the simplest most beautiful expression of love.
2) mango: jicama is also hidden in here for crunch. A wonderful pairing that brings out the nuttiness of what we from the West call green gold
3) pina: the most complex of the trio, containing pineapple, habanero, tomatillo and mint. It was like falling in love all over again. There was no flavor conflict and the mint was so subtle yet integral to the refreshing quality; it totally complimented the spike of habanero and the slippery acidity of the tomatillo. Pineapple wins!

The sleeper hit of the evening: Three Ceviche Tasting!! This sampler was a splurge (setting you back $23 or so) but what the hell, its ceviche and if you want anything done right, its this. The chefs at Mercadito do not fail. The dishes are served with a slight nod to the traditional-- baked crackers. We chose:
1) camaron: shrimp, pico de gallo con pina and tomato in a jalapeno broth. The amazing flavor sensation was the pinapple pico de gallo since it brought out an unrivaled sweetness in the shrimp.
2) atun: tuna, mango, onion, chive and jicama in a chipotle broth. Now I love tuna in all its incarnations (yes even Star Kist form) but this is in the Tuna Hall of Fame for its amazing texture diced with jicama. Unfortunately the mango was lost in the smokiness of the chipotle. The tune should be spared from being diced into such small cubes...
3) dorado: mahi mahi, avocado and tomato with chile de arbol broth. The simple elegance of this ceviche is only half of the allure. The mahi mahi is cut in bigger fleshier chunks than the atun and that makes all the difference. Besides, the broth should be catagorized as an addictive substance; help me I am a ceviche junky.

Tacos de cochinita pibil, literally translated to mean phenomenal banana leaf-steamed achiote pork bits with cured onions and salsa verde. In practice, you could just call it sublime. These were everything we had hoped: smoked porky goodness paired with the pickly tartness of crunchy onions. How do I mainline this dish?

This is what we've been waiting for. The fish tacos (tacos estilo baja) have finally arrived. This fabled beauty consists of beer-battered fish (market choice of the day) topped with mexican "cole slaw" and drizzled with chive-habanero aioli. My level of salivation would have boggled Pavlov's mind. Verdict: terrific. Not necessarily autentico but whatever, New Yorkers can't be choosers about this one. The fish was perfectly crispy and flaky and perky from the aioli. The underwhelming "cole slaw" was probably the weakest link since we are purists and believe that it didn't contribute so much more than a nice traditional mound of fresh raw cabbage would have. All in all, crowned Best Fish Taco in New York City.

Ah Tres Leches cake... is your deliciousness unrelenting? Frankly it was yummy but forgettable (I prefer a creamier tres leches; this one was a bit crumbly and light) and although I'm sure the desserts in general are great (flan is another staple represented), I would recommend forgoing them next time for more tacos.

We ended with a tequila like no other: Agavero. This is no kin to your cheap college body-shots days. This stuff is buttery and rich; my husband commented that it acts more like a scotch than a tequila. Hailing from the exotic mountains of Jalisco, Mexico, perhaps its the secret ingredient that sparks up this distillation of blue agave: "essence of damiana flower"? Whatever it is, it was boozetastic!

Mercadito, 179 Avenue B (between 11th and 12th streets), East Village
212.529.6493

Los Portales-- El mas sabrosa!

2006-03-09T20:25:00.000-05:00

This is what draws you in: a fogged-up, grease-splattered storefront window that gives you a peek into the savory simmering setting inside.

Upon closer inspection, you're treated to the splendid aromas that come wafting out of this thing. I don't know what its called but this shallow vat of bubbling meats and veggies was constantly being hand-tended by an attentive chef who was stirring and adding and replenishing ingredients as things cooked down. If you had an abuelita, this is how she would probably do it. The fragrant layers of slow-braised pork and browning onions were almost too much to handle and I almost jumped over the counter.

Horchata-fest! This mexican sweetened rice milk drink is really the only accompaniment to the chipotle-infused flavors. Although the taqueria also serves a full selection of Jarritos, we didn't see any cervezas on the menu.

I fervently believe that every meal's first course should be authentic tacos. Pictured here are the tacos con chorizo (background) and tacos con suadero (broiled veal flank!). It is not hyperbole to say that the suadero was the best taco I've had in New York City. Yeah yeah "immobilized baby cow" arguments aside, this dish is amazing. I am convinced that if the baby cow could know that its destiny was fulfilled in perfection of this type, it would hop right into the tortilla itself. Calves are loving. And juicy. And at Los Portales, they are honored in the highest form of praise: the taco. The chorizo was also a smashing hit. Not too salty, not too oily, it would have been great even with the counter-intuitive 'con huevos' option! Even the cebollita (the grilled sweet spring onion) served with these tacos was tasty. $1.50 a piece, sucka.

Hot sauces are to food what George Michael was to Wham!-- essential for color and seasoning, taken for granted, and sometimes show-stoppers unto themselves. These are no exception. The salsa verde was piquant and yummy, but the red chipotle sauce was the real flaming star: smokey, spicy, thick and peppery. I tried to sneak some into my handbag but the waitress was looking.

The majestic Torta Al Pastor reigns over my tastebuds. Along with the spicy pork, this delicious king of mexican sandwiches is stuffed with lettuce, tomato, onions, cheese, and pickled jalapenos. Everything I've ever dreamed of in life is encapsulated in this hand-held beauty. The spicy pork is not so hot that you can't taste the roasted chipotles it in which it was cooked. The queso blanco is gentle but holds its own in this complex flavor bonanza. The lettuce was crisp (not that wilty shredded crap at the bottom of the bin at the deli) and the jalapenos were tart and hot and magnificent! But wait till you get this part-- it will only put you back $4.50... Peace on earth is possible with this sandwich. Tortas Los Portales para todo el mundo!

Cemitas carnitas is another hefty sandwich served on a fluffy chunk of hero (semolina) with: shredded cheese, chipotle peppers, lettuce, onion, avocado, and papalo (an herb related to cilantro, the name comes from the word papalotl, or native Nahuatl for butterfly). All for only $5.50!

Your inconspicuous ticket to tasty trevails in fronteras of Astoria/Long Island City.

Los Portales
25-08 Broadway, LIC (across the street from the blightful Blockbuster Video)
718.204.6736

...and yes, they do deliver.

that crrrrrazy apple is mad as hell and he's not gonna take it anymore.

2006-03-09T10:46:00.000-05:00

As lifted off the Gothamist site...
This means the crazy apple will invariably become the de facto mascot in the coming revolutions (designated to kickoff at the gilded gates of Gramercy Park, as we've established on many an occasion).

Photo taken by Neil Epstein.

bay leaves drying in the kitchen

2006-03-08T22:51:00.000-05:00

"you must answer to get help"

2006-03-08T22:48:00.000-05:00

Doodle a cock... for a good cause

2006-03-08T22:26:00.000-05:00

Satisfy your inner artiste at this fun site while raising awareness for cute smutty cartoons... your own version of a johnson immortalized in doodle.

This train is not in service...

2006-03-07T20:07:00.000-05:00

...the MTA just likes to torture rush hour commuters by having it sit fallow in the station. Doors open. Empty train. Full platform. Baited breath... when can we start the ceremonial Battle-For-Seats, they ask.

I myself turned right back around to go outside and walk to the 49th Street N station.

Heinz sauce mit exotica

2006-03-06T22:49:00.000-05:00

As seen on the back shelves of the Heliopolis deli on Broadway (my local source for some real delectable homemade spankopita). What is this and how would Germans use it?

Mundotastic!!

2006-03-04T15:22:00.000-05:00

In lieu of traveling to Turkey, Argentina, Brazil, the Middle East, and the Mediterranean, we instead decided to go the easy route and visit this little restaurant down the street from us. For $60 (food, drinks, and desserts for two!), it turned out to be a cheaper and much more accessible alternative to booking tickets to Ankara. Especially when you can either order many small plates to share (as we did) or get more traditional entrees like the crab burger.

Mundo, 31-18 Broadway, Astoria (the entrance is on 32nd street, around the corner from the deli)
718.777.2829

The tastiness of this dish is matched only by its awesome name: the Red Sonja. Lame Schwarzenegger movie jokes aside (Brigitte Nielsen was the real star), these red lentil patties are so kickass they could beat your little brother up. They are a mixture of mashed red lentils, bulgur, scallions, parsley, and "oriental spices" that is surprisingly soft and served at room temperature on a lettuce bed. Be sure to squeeze the lemon wedge on and then eat it like a little lettuce wrap. So good that I'm having tastebud flashbacks right now. mmmmmm

Displayed here are the crazy delicious innards of the Brazilian Coxinha, or chicken croquette with "catupiry cheese". Whatever cheese this is, I need 6 lbs of it right away, it was that good. The outside shell of the croquette was perfectly golden, fried and crunchy. The chicken was tender and impeccably seasoned. Sleeper ingredient: a thin insulating layer of potato!

The Pearl Barley salad was fantastic. I am already working on emulating this at home. It contains barley, roasted red bell peppers, celery, corn, green bell peppers, dill, parsley, fresh mint, and... middle eastern pickles!! This is very high on my list of favorite salad mashups.

Crab Artichoke Dip! Winner of my Award for Best Usage of a Tart baking crock. Wonderfully savory. Served with little toasted pita triangles.

Okay so this was the most delicious dessert but you can't tell from my crappy picture-- I couldn't capture the toothy sweetness of the warm semolina-and-cheese balls mingled with the smooth cool creaminess of the vanilla custard. You have to experience this: the Pasha Mundo, its called. Just don't go by this picture.

Toasted Almond Cake!! So decadent, I met my marscapone quota for the year. The amarettini were perfectly saturated and the toasted nuts on top were the perfect finish; it just cries out for some espresso. Next time, Mundo, next time.

My Neighborhood-- Part Deux

2006-03-04T14:59:00.000-05:00

Sleet and freezing rain.
Slick patches.
Sleepy bodegas ("BUDegas"?).
Weathered lawn statues depicting catholic saints I don't know.
Old folks hobbling cautiously.
Basements with bellies of fire.
The "Cretans Association": members only.

German woman posing as Brazilian Girl at Polish National Home

2006-03-04T14:48:00.000-05:00

As seen at the Warsaw, Greenpoint, Brooklyn.

Comida Columbiana de Jasmin

2006-03-03T23:56:00.000-05:00

A fellow astorian turned me on to this local Columbian joint for its arepas. I wasn't expecting much more than a small storefront cafe but was delighted to find a real cozy little restaurant snuggled amid 34th avenue bodegas and veterinary clinics, ready to greet my hungry belly.

Jasmin Restaurant
32-20 34 Avenue, Long Island City
718.472.9066

A handpainted sign proclaims my target for a wintery lunchtime treat in the neighborhood.

The space inside is a warmly decorated room replete with cute faux roofing over a counter over which you can order take out. The feeling is earnest and welcoming; my host was gracious and attentive. He wore a suit. There are only four tables but ample elbow room. Potted plants from the Home Depot hang from the walls. A warm oasis on a frigid afternoon.

I'm now entering my "mora batido con leche" phase. This entails ordering the blackberry shake (with milk of course, not water) whenever I can, preferably while eating fried latin foods. The man at Jasmin obviously knew this about me and gave me an additional cup of shake-runneth-over (the paper cup) and I was happy.

The "hot sauce" vat: always key in any meal. This one was more like a picante sauce with lots of vinegar so naturally I drowned my food in it. Super good.

Areparrific! Although it technically is not on the menu, I just asked the man if he could put stuff on my arepa-- you know, 'the works'!! Here's what I got: a marvelously hearty but surprisingly light corn masa "pancake" topped with refried pinto beans, avocado, chorizo, and chicharrones. The latter part I actually didn't like too much; fried beef fat sounds good in theory but is tough chewing in practice. Otherwise, the chorizo was savory and the beans were zesty. Next time I will specifically order it with some queso.

Egon Schiele show closing...

2006-02-28T22:46:00.000-05:00

more Rockefeller Center ephemera...

2006-02-27T20:39:00.000-05:00

Balkh Shish Kabab House

2006-02-26T21:52:00.000-05:00

Is that 'badass-kissstan'? From the looks of this unassuming Afghani restaurant tucked away under the elevated N/W tracks, you would think so. Apparently named after a neighborhood near Kabul, this storefront eatery is the real deal, from the delightful cardamom tea served on little beaded trivets to the distinctively tasty hot sauces placed on each table.

Hot sauce madness! Seriously, it was good with just about everything. Roasted bell pepper tinged. There was also a green cardamom sauce but I liked the spicier (red) one better.

Meat samosa appetizers here are different than the Indian samosas with which we're familar and fans of-- there's no potato or peas, only a smidgen of seasoned ground beef in a small triangle of deep fried dough.

Scallion "turnover" appetizer was the best part of the meal (although it came last, after everyone else's had come and gone). Crispy, hot layers of deep fried scallion pancake-like goodness served with an herbed yogurt dip.

Ashok dinner, steamed vegetable dumplings with yogurt. My husband was fairly disappointed with how the scallions "overpowered" the delicate dumplings who were themselves a bit bland and unremarkable. So sad.

Kabab combo platter for one: chicken, beef, and lamb from skewers served with basmati rice (has raisins and sweet carrots) and side salad. Only gripe? $10 for a "single" serving combo is mostly a mountain of rice; although the rice is yummy, I could have settled for a bit more meaty meat.

Balkh Shish Kabab House, 23-10 31st Street, Astoria
718.721.5020

New Locale

2006-02-26T20:40:00.000-05:00

Ever since its subtle entry into our neighborhood, I've been attracted to the large black-framed windows and painted brick chic of Locale. After eluding us for awhile (we were turned away the first time because they were taping some tv show pilot), we finally partook of their vaguely mediterranean-style bistro fare. The ambiance is the highlight of the experience.
Besides having a reasonable (but not inexpensive) wine list, the modestly-sized restaurant has a respectable appetizer selection. Our absolute favorite was the fried artichoke dish with lemon vinaigrette dipping stuff. Unfortunately my pressed sandwich (basically grilled chicken panini) was mediocre at best; they gave me cold bell peppers on it despite my order for grilled tomatoes. The foccacia bread was solid but the chicken breast was slightly fatty and only leukwarm. The aioli spread was overly oily and reletively flavorless. For something like $8-$10, its an express train to disappointment-ville. However, my husband had the proscuitto and bel paese panini and that was fairly good. The laudable desserts seemed well-respected by the other patrons, so we indulged in the bananas-flambe crepes (no flames on show though). Rich and creamy, buttery but fluffy, it was excellent.
It seems Locale is a viable option for small plate appetizers, cocktails (elegant and well-appointed bar), and desserts but sandwiches are hit-or-miss.

Locale, 33-02 34th Avenue, Astoria
718.729.9080

Dentist as Matchmaker? Only in Manhattan.

2006-02-24T10:27:00.000-05:00

So we got this in the mail the other day. At first glance I wondered why my dentist would send me a reminder card when I had just been in for my checkup last week... but then, upon further inspection I saw that it was yet another bizarro idiosyncracy of living in this city.

Northwestern Queens: Land of Winos?

2006-02-22T21:42:00.000-05:00

I am part of a small but nerdy slice of society-- what my friend Scott Eastman affectionately coined as 'data junkies'. Addicted to data. Maybe its my useless academic training. Maybe its my asianness (I'm actually not very good at math, thank you very much). Whatever it is, I love charts, graphs, histograms, plots, tables, et cetera ad infinitum. I found this glorious bit of esoteric data on the DOHMH website. Am I the only person that surfs around public health agency sites? Don't look at me that way. I couldn't make this data up, even if I were a prominent Korean stem cell researcher! (ouch.)
Who would have guessed that our very own Astoria might out binge-drink the average booziness for all five boroughs??! Well, the dudes regularly outside Mary Maguire's at 9am might.

See-thru restrooms + upscale comfort diner fare = Soho standard

2006-02-22T20:43:00.000-05:00

Need a deceptively swank pit-stop amidst your Spring Street shopping spree but don't want to throw down freakish amounts of cash? Bar 89 on Mercer is your best bet, with their storied buffalo hot wings and gussied-up burgers conveniently located off the boulevard of skinny jeans.
Yes, the semi-transparent magical bathrooms are overrated.
No, the drinks are not that good.

Bar 89, 89 Mercer Street (between Spring and Broome)
212.274.0989

Buffalo wings plate: meaty, tangy, but not really that spicy. The criss-cut waffle fries and cut veggies are totally rad.

Their southwestern/tex-mex/salsafied burger: its my own fault, really since I simply cannot resist most dishes involving avocados. Medium-rare THICK cut patty with pickled jalapenos, salsa, avocado (paltry as usual), lettuce, tomato, onion, and jack cheese on a nice bun... buns are so important, don't you think? Totally underrated. I mean, not everyone can do a brioche bun burger, I know, but seriously the sesame-seeded-crumbly-dry-crimes-against-humanity that usually pass in diners is really offensive. All in all, der burger was pretty yummy (and reasonable) at $11.50 including more waffle cut fries.

Opium Chic

2006-02-22T20:40:00.000-05:00

Hiro Ballroom last week

In Hipster Denial

2006-02-22T14:54:00.000-05:00

How lame is this? Its so lame I didn't even know how lame it was.

Gud Stuf!

2006-02-22T13:14:00.000-05:00

Yay!! Thanks to the magnanimous astorians.com and all the great foodies I've encountered on it, I've got my very first link/blog review! I've got great company, as floozigrl also posts some other fellow Astorian blogs and sites of interest. Check it out. She's GUD.
Gud Stuf NYC: Links for an Astorian weekend.

I heart street food! -- Part Two

2006-02-18T14:29:00.000-05:00

More offerings from the corners of midtown-- land of the lunch carts! I used to think that midtown was a barren godforsaken place of over-priced delis and stuffed suits. But that was before I discovered the plethora of exemplary street vendors and their tasty wares.
Moshe's Falafels on the corner of 6th Ave and 46th Street (just past the Diamond District hoopla) is yet another fine purveyor of great food at dirt-cheap prices, saving midtown office slaves everywhere. And its seriously Kosher, too. woo-hoo!

For your hard-earned $3.75 (and some wait time in a long line), you get four perfectly golden and nutty falafel balls (hehe) stuffed into a huge pita along with lettuce, tomato, pickles, onion, tahini sauce, and homemade hot sauce. Its probably enough to feed three small children but office work is so strenuous that I ate the whole thing. Yummmmmmm. The falafel is pretty great: hot and fresh out of the fryer, they are only lightly tan colored and very crispy, unlike the almost-charcoal abominations you get at some places. My only critique? Stop holding back on the pickles and tahini sauce, Moshe!

Eric and Annie's Day Off

2006-02-18T13:57:00.000-05:00

Hookey days are highly underrated. As grassroots proponents of hookey-ness, Eric and I endeavored to keep the fight alive for all cubicle jockeys everywhere and ditch the workday on Wednesday in order to do important things like eat Cuban sandwiches, walk around, and of course take a nap.
Ferris Buellers we are not, but we still made the most of a beautiful day and discovered yet another neighborhood culinary gem: a colorful and spacious cafe serving kickass treats of my latin american brothers and sisters. We got two Cuban sandwiches ($4.25/ea), two batidos (fruit shakes at $3-$4 each): mango and mora (blackberry), an empanada de carne (beef and pork), and a papa rellena to share. Now I may be talking crazy but the food there is better than most fancy-schmancy latin-themed places I've tried in the city. AND two people can eat (stuff their faces, really) for less than $20 total... what gets better than that?

Latin Cabana
34-44 Steinway Street (between 34th and 35th Avenues, amongst the car repair garages), Astoria
718.729.3900

Let it snow ...and then snow some more

2006-02-13T20:00:00.000-05:00

2006-02-06T21:17:00.000-05:00

From a bathroom window somewhere on Madison Ave near 33rd Street (dentist's office)

Anthropologie's marshmallows

2006-02-05T22:57:00.000-05:00

2006-01-31T22:17:00.000-05:00

Dog Day (Year?)

2006-01-31T20:11:00.000-05:00

Welcome to the year 4704. We are not novices. In the spirit of all great Chinese people before us, we bundled up against the cold wet grey sky and headed off for Canal Street to celebrate the new year. Apparently 8 million other people, tourists and locals alike, had the same idea. We arrived at Jing Fong on Elizabeth Street just as the Firecracker Ceremony was starting. Maybe it was the hunger pangs of a Sunday morning or maybe it was the slick and crowded confetti-lined streets, but the allure of cheap fireworks couldn't compete with the prospect of some hot dim sum. Unfortunately we were #142 ...while they were calling #38. We played with the idea of waiting amidst the desperate masses for a cramped table inside but quickly decided to trek further downtown to the reliable favorite, Golden Unicorn (on Catherine and Broadway, near Confucius Square). There we were lucky enough to beat out the dilettantes (aimless groups of white college kids). We waited patiently and eventually got to stuff our faces with yummy oriental treats off a dingy pushcart served by surly Chinese ladies with a heavy disdain for english-speakers. yeeeeaaaaaaaaaah!

Golden Unicorn, 18 East Broadway (at Catherine Street)
212.941.0911 (good luck calling them)

After some inauspicious run-ins with the NYPD (let's not talk about it), we cowered to the weather and went home again to dry off and eventually make our own New Year's HappySuperFuntime#1LuckyFortune dinner.

Better than dim sum? Maybe. At least not as greasy (how to translate the Chinese concept of "too-much-fried-food-imbalance-of-chi-firebreath"?)
Salmon ala Eric (marinated with Ponzu sauce, soy, white pepper, garlic, etc) served with sauteed spinach, shiitake muchrooms, and sesame soba noodles.

Best Soup of 2006... so far.

2006-01-23T21:41:00.000-05:00

The following soup delight was inspired by an amazing one that I had a few weeks ago at our local bistro, Brick Cafe. Its fast becoming one of my favorite restaurants: its right around the corner from our house, its inexpensive, the service is great, there's a kickass bar, and did I mention the food is fantastic?? AMAZING. Their soup du jour was some magical blend of garbanzo beans, spinach and morel mushrooms in chicken broth. Mine is a slight variation and uber-easy...

Brick Cafe, 30-95 33rd St Astoria
718.267.2735

Annie's 'shitake asparagus soup'
1 lb fresh asparagus, cut into little chunks
3 big leeks
1/2 lb shitake mushrooms
1 big tetrapack of chicken broth
1 can garbanzo beans
lots of greek (strained) plain yogurt
pinch of coriander

Saute everything up with some olive oil, softening the asparagus and leeks significantly before adding the beans and then the chopped shrooms... Add chicken broth and simmer for like 10 min. BLEND (puree) 2/3 of the soupy stuff and then add it back to the pot (be careful, I almost exploded my blender from the heat). Turn off heat and stir in generous amounts of yogurt. Eat. Smile.

I heart street food!-- Part One

2006-01-23T21:35:00.000-05:00

Halal kabob dudes on 49th Street and 6th Ave (conveniently located across the street from my office of course)... the only guys who do falafel too!

Chairman Mao plays Radio City

2006-01-21T00:17:00.000-05:00

"If we have shortcomings, we are not afraid to have them pointed out and criticized, because we serve the people. Anyone, no matter who, may point out our shortcomings. If he is right, we will correct them. If what he proposes will benefit the people, we will act upon it."
--Mao Tse-tung Serve the People (September 8, 1941), Selected Works, Vol. III, P. 227.

Readymade

2006-01-16T22:56:00.000-05:00

My husband inspired the mirror to stand behind the faucet in the bathroom.

'Whether Mr Mutt with his own hands made the fountain or not has no importance. He CHOSE it. He took an ordinary article of life, and placed it so that its useful significance disappeared under the new title and point of view - created a new thought for that object.'
-The Blind Man, May 1917

Would William Burroughs have liked a turkey burger?

2006-01-15T20:01:00.000-05:00

Last night, bearing our bravado on our sleeves, Eric and I ventured out of our safe and warm hovel in order to see a screening of David Cronenburg's Naked Lunch at our neighborhood museum.
Author's Note: get a membership at the Museum of the Moving Picture. Today. Its supersweet. You get to see all their movie screenings for free.
I had never seen Naked Lunch before and hadn't eaten anything beforehand in anticipation of the grotesque big-screen depictions about which I read so much. Although the film was stellar (ohhhh the bug powder!), we left the museum's theatre with cavernous stomachs ready for indiscriminant devouring. Luckily, our favorite neighborhood diner's soggy neon signposts beckoned to us from right across the street-- convenient since by this time stinging needles of freezing rain began to come piercing through the sky into my frightened face. Not only was I hungry but the sky was attacking me again. At least I didn't shoot my common-law wife in the head.

Museum of the Moving Image, 35 Avenue at 36 Street Astoria
(718) 784-0077
Cup Diner and Bar, 35-01 36th St Astoria
(718) 937-2322

Safely inside CUP, we began the feast with their phenomenal onion rings and some hot green tea (actually a great combo). I had my comfy favorite: the turkey burger with melted swiss and carmelized onions. yuuuuum. Let's not even talk about their curly fries. However, it must be said that their menu changed dramatically sometime late last year (new management?) and some of the coolest foods disappeared in favor of a more orthodox diner theory involving 'roumanian shell steak' and grey-colored vegetable sides, etc. I say: stick to the burgers, steer away from their salad-type things, and mourn only lightly for the now-defunct fresh Kesso yogurt and granola at brunch.