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For this year's bûche de Noël, I returned to one of my favorite French pastry shops on the Upper East Side. When last I purchased a Yule log (a sinful Saumur) from Payard, it was at the pâtisserie's original site at 1032 Lexington Avenue—a hallowed space that once housed the delightful Délices La Côte Basque, and its desirous successor, Désirs La Côte Basque. After the inexplicably long hiatus, I felt a bûche from Payard was overdue.
Beyond having relocated one block east to 1293 Third Avenue (next to J.G. Melon), Payard has added several new locations in Manhattan, as well as branches in Las Vegas, Japan, and Korea. Payard's expansion and continued success should come as no surprise to anyone. A third-generation pâtissier, François Payard found himself immersed in the art of pastry while growing up around his grandfather's acclaimed Au Nid des Friandises in Nice, France. After burnishing his skills under the tutelage of his family, Mr. Payard left the French Riviera for Paris, where he became the pastry chef at the venerable La Tour d’Argent, and later at Alain Senderens at Lucas Carton. After Paris, where else but New York? In August of 1997, following successful stints at Le Bernadin and Restaurant Daniel, François Payard opened his eponymous pâtisserie and bistro at the aforementioned Lexington Avenue address.
Payard's selection of bûches de Noël this year seemed more tempting yet than what I could recall from my last visit: Chestnut Cassis (vanilla bean pound cake with candied chestnut mousse, cassis crémeux, and poached cassis); Chocolate & Berries (milk and dark chocolate mousse, chocolate flourless cake, raspberry, strawberry, and currant jam, and raspberry crémeux); Caramel Chocolate (sablé breton topped with caramel mascarpone, salted caramel chocolate mousse, and chocolate cake); and the Louvre (layers of chocolate and hazelnut mousse, with a crispy hazelnut wafer, hazelnut dacquoise cake, and dark chocolate glaze). The foregoing bûches were available in sizes of four ($28), six ($42), and eight ($56) servings.
Though each was extremely appealing, I chose the six-serving Louvre, a work of art worthy of its name. This rich, decadent bûche delivered the sort of complexity not normally found in such a confection. The various levels of hazelnut, chocolate, and cake, each with its own flavor and texture, were coated in an exquisite dark chocolate ganache, and embellished with macaron "mushrooms." François Payard's Louvre elevates the Yule log to a veritable art form.
All the artistry comes at the expense of tradition and verisimilitude, however. Payard's bûches lack the rustic look and feel of a log. Absent are the nubs, the bark-textured frosting, and the meringue mushrooms. That said, it's hard to find fault with Payard's exquisite pastry; it's among the finest I've tasted.
Finally, to add a little Christmas spirit to the Louvre log, a glass of Frangelico is the perfect accompanying libation.
1293 Third Avenue (near 74th Street),
Upper East Side, Manhattan (map)
Related post: Ceci-Cela's Bûche de Noël
It's gritty, it's simple, it's unpretentious—and it's a relic. Most of all, however, it's good. After 64 years (although the sign proclaims 65) of dishing up tasty fried grub, Johnny's Reef, continues to draw hungry seafarers as well as landlubbers to the southern tip of City Island.
With sweeping views across the Sound to Long Island and a distant Manhattan skyline, this seaside cafeteria offers a great escape amid a hot, sunny afternoon. While the weather may have turned colder, summer doesn't seem all that distant here.
To reach Johnny's Reef, one must travel the length of City Island past countless seafood places that range from grungy shacks to tony restaurants. A glimpse of Johnny's exterior back wall—a first impression for many—reveals this eatery's place on the foregoing continuum: empty five-gallon coleslaw buckets and other service discards share their space with employees on a cigarette break. Finding a parking spot can seem like a bumper car ride, especially when other drivers disregard the arrows on the pavement. New visitors should not be discouraged by outward appearances, however; exceptional seafood awaits within.
The amusement park-like ambiance plays out further inside. Resembling a midway, the restaurant's interior comprises a vast array of food, beverage, and service stations along an L-shaped counter that extends the length of two walls. Tables and chairs are arranged to take advantage of the pleasant waterside views afforded by a wall of windows.
The noisy hustle and bustle, without directions for how to proceed, could conceivably overwhelm the novice. Thus, a few guidelines here might not be amiss. First, it's important to note that disparate foods and beverages are ordered and paid for separately. Seek out the desired overhead menu, decide what to eat, and step up to a numbered station at the counter. A helpful cashier will take your order as well as your payment (cash only). When your order is ready, proceed to the service area, and help yourself to plastic utensils, condiments, and lots of napkins. (The diner-style napkins are flimsy, wholly inadequate to the task, and will fly off the tray with every attempt to reach for one.)
Stop at the beverage station or at Johnny's Bar. Don't be discouraged by the limited list of beers posted overhead; the bartender will offer additional (and more appealing) selections upon request.
If weather permits, carry your tray to a picnic table on the arena-sized terrace, where you can catch all the action that happens outside. On a recent visit we were entertained by such divertissements as children feeding the Hitchcockian mob of gulls and hot-dogging jet skiers determined to drown one another—all amid a spectacular sunset. There seems to be a wind-tunnel effect in the vicinity: if it is at all breezy, be prepared to batten down everything, including your plate and cup. If it's cool or breezy, consider staying inside; the food cools quickly in the wind.
On my visits, I usually head straight to station 4 in the fry section. Though the shrimp ($13) are rather good, I almost always order the fillet ($13), a superb fried sole that is without peer. Moments after the cashier turns and calls out, "filete," an overflowing basket (large enough to share) of fish atop a mound of fries arrives on my tray, together with a paper plate. Although a single wedge of lemon is included, I always ask for more. (This is where to make that request.) Tartar sauce, ketchup, hot sauce, and salt also complement the fish and chips well. To wash it all down, I much prefer beer to Johnny's overly sweet cocktails.
To put it simply, Johnny's fillet represents some of the best fried fish one might hope to encounter anywhere. Fresh, and fried perfectly to a delicious golden brown, the fillet is sweet and has a nearly silken texture; its breading and spicing complement the mild fish without overwhelming it. For some, it could be the sole reason to come here. The french fries are fairly thin, and quite delicious. Buried within this fresh, hot, not-too-greasy treasure, is a tiny container of coleslaw, which, especially after being heated by the fries, tastes every bit as industrial as its five-gallon container would suggest. Fortunately, the slaw is the only weak element of the meal.
As the season winds down, we've gone the long way around the island to come to a conclusion that is short and sweet: For a huge portion of super fresh, perfectly prepared fish fry at a reasonable price with a great view of the water, it's hard to imagine any place better than Johnny's Reef.
Johnny's Reef Restaurant
2 City Island Ave
Bronx, N.Y. 10464-1607 (map)
By bus: Bx29
The aptly named Red Barn Farm in Stonington, Maine is nestled unassumingly at the end of a residential driveway. Its doors are a gateway to one of the most delightful experiences one might have Down East. Donna Brewer is a woman of many talents; her primary skill had been upholstering, as advertised on the roadside sign. Her husband, Marsden, is a lobsterman. But how did an upholsterer and a fisherman become consummate cheesemakers?
For 20 years Donna and Marsden kept goats on their farm as pets. The Brewers hadn't discovered their taste for chèvre until they bought some from a friend who is also a goat farmer. Not long thereafter, the couple decided to take advantage of their natural resources by using the milk of their own goats to make cheese. They made chèvre for themselves and their friends the first few years, but after Donna and Marsden received their state certification in 2012, their avocation officially became a business.
Red Barn Goat Cheese sells some of the finest fresh chèvre it has been our pleasure to sample. Made with milk from Anglo-Nubian goats, it hits all the marks: a tangy sweetness embodied in a texture that is neither too dry nor too moist. And it's available with a wide variety of harmonious seasonings. For example, a taste of the seemingly unusual combination of peperoncini and goat cheese reveals a match made in chèvre heaven: the sourness, heat, and tang of the peperoncini comprise the perfect foil to the creamy richness of the mild cheese—which, of course, has a tang of its own. The garlic-and-herb remains my favorite, however; its bold flavors—similar to those of Boursin—satisfy all that may ail my palate.
We loaded up with five pounds of Red Barn's cheese, which we hope will tide us over until we visit again next year. (We order a few days ahead, and, by having the chèvre wrapped in bulk, we receive a discount.) Once home, we rewrap the cheese into smaller portions; not only does this chèvre freeze well, it freezes beautifully. Eleven-and-a-half-month-old specimens are virtually as tasty as fresh ones.
Donna has expanded her ever-increasing variety of goat milk offerings to include yogurt, feta, and even soap. The soap comes in a wide variety of scents, is creamy smooth, and feels quite nourishing on the skin. Reasonably priced and packaged aesthetically in fabric and ribbon, it makes a lovely gift.
Of course, what cheese-and-upholstery operation in Maine would be complete with a lobster tank? Yes, Red Barn sells live lobsters, too. (Donna is happy to steam them for those wishing to save a little time.) Some say that the Brewers sell some of the best lobsters on the island—quite an achievement considering they belong to the largest lobstering fleet in the United States!
Despite the level of accomplishment on offer at the Red Barn, the true reward of a visit here is Donna Brewer herself. Unassuming and exuberant, knowledgeable and compassionate, she is one of the most delightful people we've met in these parts.
Alas, having been in somewhat of a hurry, we did not sample Donna's two newer wares: yogurt and feta. We'll certainly try them next year. And since guests are welcome to visit the goat herd, we'll be sure to head out back and thank the ladies for their role in the production of such a delectable cheese.
Red Barn Farm
88 N Stonington Rd
Stonington, ME 04681-3531 (map)
Had we not enjoyed gracious service and fine dishes at Buck's Restaurant in Brooksville, Maine a couple of years ago, we might have been merely annoyed, rather than utterly shocked, by the unforgivable rudeness we encountered there recently.
While the first incident upon our arrival was easily the most offensive, it presaged what was to be a long evening of annoyances and disappointments.
When we approached the lectern, the hostess was engaged in what was clearly a personal phone call. After chatting a few more moments, she turned to us and asked, sotto voce, lest she disturb her caller, "Jones?" "No, Smith," I replied. She glanced at the reservation book, mouthed "oh," and without further words to us, resumed her telephonic gabfest, grabbed two menus, and walked into the dining room. The first table onto which she began placing our menus ("seating us" would be inaccurate, as she never made eye contact or spoke with us) was by far the worst in the house, and should probably not even exist: a two-top along the restaurant's main artery that required a person of average build to turn slightly in order to maneuver between it and a nearby guest. Upon requesting a different table, we were led down to a two-top in the confined, sunken bar area that was dominated by a party of ten that evening. Though the large, convivial group did not behave offensively in any manner, the acoustics were such that their modest merriment reverberated to a distracting level. Unfortunately, no other table was available to us.
All the while, the so-called hostess never abandoned her telephone call. Whether she uttered any words beyond the ones explaining our dearth of seating options, we can't recall. Of what we can be certain, however, is that, with one notable exception, neither of us had ever been treated so rudely by any greeter in any establishment—not even in the grungiest beanery. Worse yet, this ungraciousness could not be ascribed to the callowness of youth; nay, the gray-haired woman masquerading badly as a hostess that evening was clearly old enough to have known better.
Normally, while waiting for a server, we chat with our host or hostess briefly, and then between ourselves. That evening, however, the two of us had yet to exchange a single word; so stunned were we by this woman's rudeness that we simply stared at each other in silence, eyes wide, and mouths agape.
The menus revealed further signs of lax management. Various errors on the food and beverage cards suggested carelessness and inattention to detail—characteristics entirely too consistent with our reception.
Although our waitress was polite and seemingly well-meaning, she wasn't very knowledgeable or particularly attentive. About a minute after requesting olive oil for our bread, we watched as she engaged another server in a lengthy conversation in the next room. By the time she returned senza olio, it was already too late; our starters had arrived.
We expect very fresh seafood in Maine, especially if it is caught in the immediate vicinity and served in an upscale setting. Alas, the modestly sized yet grandly priced ($15) Insalata Frutti di Mare [sic] contained mussels that were clearly stale and very, very close to being bad. The three small pieces of lobster were reasonably sweet, however, and seemed to be the freshest among their plated sea mates. And while the large shrimp were fairly good, they should have been fresher. The snap of biting into a very fresh shrimp is unmistakable. Sadly, these little crustaceans had drifted beyond their "snapping point" at least a day or two earlier. The baby octopus and calamari were similarly unremarkable. To recapitulate: Buck's charges $15 for a salad comprising a few stale mussels, about an ounce and a half of lobster, three large (not jumbo) shrimp, a tiny octopus tentacle, and a few pieces of calamari (which cost the restaurant almost nothing).
The Classic Caesar Salad ($9) telegraphed its inadequacy by claiming to include a "creamy parmesan" [sic] rather than an authentic Caesar dressing. Not surprisingly, there weren't the slightest hints of fresh garlic, anchovy, Dijon mustard, fresh lemon juice, or egg yolk—the sine quibus non of a true Caesar. Inexplicably, this "classic" was served with a wedge of tomato. (Et tu, tomate?) On the positive side, the shaved Parmesan atop the romaine added a nice touch, but it alone could not elevate this salad above banality.
The Poached Atlantic Salmon ($24) owed its flavor and tender moistness to freshness and competent simmering. Sadly, it had been drowned in a creamy dill sauce that was trite and unimaginative. The boiled red-skinned potatoes with parsley butter were even less stimulating. Worst of all, however, were the vegetables that somehow managed to avoid both seasoning and cooking. (More about that anon.) With regard to its appeal, this course was an apt successor to the Caesar salad.
The only highlight of the evening—for which the chef truly deserves kudos—was the Tuscan-style Rabbit ($27): rabbit leg served in a delicious sauce featuring a medley of porcini and button mushrooms, rabbit sausage, olives, and white wine. (As with the seafood salad, it happened to be the priciest item in its menu category.) At its very best, rabbit tends to be a bit dry. This preparation, however, was absolutely succulent, and seasoned to perfection. The deep, earthy flavors of the wild and cultivated mushrooms, together with the savory brown sauce, created an inspired interplay that enhanced the rabbit's own inherent earthy (but not quite gamy) flavors and exquisite moistness. (Think primal and moist forest floor in their very best senses.) Alas, the inspiration did not extend to the bed of polenta upon which the rabbit lay; the cornmeal tasted as though it hadn't seen a grain of salt or any other seasoning.
Finally, and again, inexplicably, the green beans and carrots that accompanied both main courses were unseasoned and raw; the squash, though steamed superficially, was raw inside. Plating this small offering separately from the rabbit further underscored its oddness.
Aside from the outstanding rabbit, the only other vaguely positive aspect of the evening, was the reasonable wine list. It is far too common to encounter larcenous prices 200, 300, or even 400 percent above retail. (Restaurants purchase wines wholesale at prices roughly two-thirds those of retail.) Buck's, however, seems to price its wines about 100 percent over retail—even slightly lower in a few instances—for which it deserves praise. We enjoyed a relatively inexpensive bottle of rosé, the $24 price of which seemed quite fair.
Although the dessert menu beckoned, we'd already had quite enough—in more ways than one. We simply wanted to leave. But first, we had to point out that we'd been charged twice for the wine. (How ironic!) The hostess's assurance that she would have caught the error at the time of payment was most comforting, however.
As if we hadn't suffered enough indignities theretofore, the final insult was yet to come. I had noticed something that had been splattered onto the wall next to my Comestaccomplice's seat (by a previous diner, possibly). It was clearly a splash pattern that had dried to form an unheavenly constellation of white droplets against a crimson backdrop. My companion dipped her serviette into water and, without difficulty, wiped some of it off. As we left, we notified the hostess of the maculate wall. But instead of sparing a few more seconds of her precious time to acknowledge our concern, she dismissively imputed the mess to an imperfection in the plaster. (Should a plaster problem exist in fact, the area ought to be wiped down between seatings, covered by something decorative, or repaired.) Allowing guests to think they are sitting beside filth is unacceptable.
This was once a very pleasant restaurant. Alas, an ill-mannered hostess, a minimally trained waitress, misspelled menu items, and a food-flecked wall constituted an unsavory recipe that left a bad taste in our mouths. What a pity the management has become so uncaring and apathetic. Unless it undergoes a drastic reorganization, Buck's will not see my bucks again.
6 Cornfield Hill Rd
Brooksville, ME 04617-3654 (map)
Do you order a 20-ounce cup of coffee or a Venti? Do you reward service with a tip or a perquisite? Cloaking simple meaning in pompous diction can be both confusing and exasperating. One such intrusion into restaurant argot is the incipient use of the word temperature to express a degree of cooking.
Merriam-Webster has yet to include doneness in its full definition of temperature. Nevertheless, the familiar question, "How would you like that cooked?" is being smoked out in favor of "What temperature would you like that?" Regarding a steak, the expected rejoinder would probably be a named point somewhere within the continuum of raw to shoe leather (with medium-rare typically serving as the default). But what if the reply were given as a temperature in the literal sense of the word?
When I'm at the grill, I rightly concern myself with cooking temperatures and times; when I'm at a restaurant, however, someone else is supposed to do that on my behalf. I don't pack a meat thermometer when I dine out, but perhaps I should. In this way, I could specify an actual temperature—in either Fahrenheit or Celsius—and then measure my order's accuracy at the time of presentation. (My preferred steak temperature, incidentally, is 115.7°F or 46.5°C.) If the thermometer reading were beyond, say, a three-degree margin of error, I could justifiably send my order back. Would such mockery help to banish this pretentious use of the word temperature? I'm already champing at the bit for some server to ask, "How many minutes per side?"
To what temperature would you like your steak cooked? The table below lists degrees of cooking and corresponding internal temperatures for fresh beef.
|Steak Doneness||Core Temperature|
|Very rare, blue, Pittsburgh||110-120 °F
|Medium rare||130-139 °F
|145 °F *
|Medium well||150-159 °F
|Well done||160-174 °F
|Very well done, shoe leather||175+ °F
|* FDA / USDA minimum, before a 3-minute rest
A record-setting 49 vendors served the world's fare to the more than 700 eager participants who braved the elements to take part in Queens Taste 2014 at the Sheraton LaGuardia East Hotel in Flushing. Hosted by the Queens Economic Development Corporation, the twelfth annual gastronomic extravaganza included performances by a Big Apple Circus clown, two tables of World's Fair memorabilia from the Queens Historical Society and The Port Authority of NY & NJ, and special Mets ticket offers.
Queens Taste 2014 video
The Taste welcomed several newcomers this year, including Pa-Nash, a new "Euro Soul" eatery in Rosedale that fuses Mediterranean and Moroccan cooking with Caribbean and Soul Food influences. The Fig-glazed Chicken Wings, though tasty, were not warm enough to allow my full appreciation of them. The meatball and the Herb-Crusted Lump Crab Cakes, on the other hand, were warmer, and, thanks to the savory Moroccan spices, hotter.
Another newbie, Murphy's Lobster Grill, fared very well at its Queens Taste initiation. Michael Patrick Murphy's Sunnyside pub received the Best Appetizer award for its Oysters on the Half Shell. In addition to its victorious raw oysters, Murphy's Bar offered Steamed Mussels and Mac 'n' Cheese.
Also making a triumphant debut was Zenon Taverna of Astoria. The Greco-Cypriot eatery earned Best Entrée honors for its Mediterranean Octopus, Lamb Meatballs, and Taramosalata (ταραμοσαλάτα). While the char-grilled meatballs—seasoned with salt, pepper, fresh garlic, onion, and parsley—may have been slightly oversalted and a bit chewy, they were delicious nonetheless. The Taramosalata (carp roe, or taramas, mixed with mashed potatoes, lemon, and onion, served in a phyllo cup) was a tasty meze as well. The veritable standout, however, was Zenon's grilled octopus. Perfectly seasoned with oregano, pepper, and bay leaves, then drizzled with olive oil, vinegar, and lemon, this preparation was tender, moist, and unquestionably deserving of its award.
Dutch Kills Centraal, a Long Island City gastropub, marked its first appearance with housemade Chicken Liver Pâté on Crostini and Deviled Eggs with Bacon—some of my favorite picnic fare.
It was also the first time round for Bill's Balls, a purveyor of artisanal meatballs from Astoria. Bill tailors his spherical concoctions to suit various localities, such as Astoria, Mulberry Street, Upstate, and even Philly. To honor the venue of this year's event, owners Bill Morris and Daniela Del Giorno rolled out The Flushing—a pork dumpling ball served with Sweet Thai Chili sauce and and cabbage-scallion slaw.
DF Mavens completed the list of successful 2014 premieres with its dairy-free frozen desserts. The chill, non-dairy Salted Praline (soy milk), Mint Chocolate Chip (almond milk), and Mango (coconut milk) scooped up the award for Best Dessert.
It was a pleasure to see a number of returning favorites as well.
Though it failed to receive an award, Chef Mina Newman's Braised Short Ribs from Christos Steak House in Astoria represented perfection on a plastic plate. Tender, succulent, and seasoned just right, this marvelous viand melted in my mouth.
The Dog and Duck gastropub of Sunnyside served sliders again this year. I still miss the duck confit from 2012! Next year, Padraigh?
Woodside's F. Ottomanelli Burger & Belgian Fries returned with more burgers with which to defend its 2013 Best Entrée title.
La Adelita was back with more good Mexican eats.
Uncle Peter's of Jackson Heights spooned up its Seafood Salad Supreme of lobster, shrimp, crabmeat, and avocado.
The sport of kings is celebrated in Queens at Elmhurst's La Fusta. Holding the reins at his Argentinean homage to horse racing (fusta means rider's crop) is Stephen Tatarian, one of the Taste's most engaging restaurateurs. This year, he trotted out skewers of skirt steak, grape tomatoes, portobellos, and sausage.
And what would a visit to this event be without a bite of the signature sandwich from Leo's Latticini? In addition to its famous hero of peppered ham, salami, fresh mozzarella, roasted peppers, and mushrooms, Mama's of Corona (as it's known locally) reprised its Caprese Salad (fresh mozzarella with basil, tomatoes, and olive oil), Prosciutto Bread, and Biscotti.
Flushing's Magna Ristorante, another perennial favorite (awarded for Best Entrée in 2012), returned with a pair of tasty pastas, and introduced a highly popular dish of sweet, spicy peppers with ricotta and mozzarella inside.
After last year's success, McClure's Pickles of Brooklyn and Detroit was back with more brined bits. The Sweet Spicy, my favorite, packed plenty of heat—perhaps even more so than did the Spicy.
The beverages seemed to include fewer wines this year. SquareWine & Spirits returned as one of the few vino vendors.
Having sampled the aforementioned Bill's Balls, it was only fair that I tried Pat's balls again for dessert.
Pat Pilla describes her cheesecake balls as "a little bite of heaven and an explosion of flavor in your mouth." Her company, Chee'Bonnet, is one of the many successful ventures launched at QEDC's Entrepreneur Space.
And finally, Ridgewood's venerable Rudy's Bakery and Café, famous for its Süßigkeiten since 1934. For this year's Taste, pastry chef Cristina Nastasi prepared Mini Cupcakes, a seasonal Strawberry-Rhubarb Crisp, and Oatmeal Marshmallow Sandwiches.
"A great time was had by all," declared QEDC Executive Director Seth Bornstein. "The food, the beverages, the networking, and the upbeat atmosphere were simply fantastic. I'm already looking forward to next year, and I am extremely grateful to our lead sponsor, Fairway Market."
Queens Taste 2014
Tuesday, 29 April 2014, 6:00 P.M. till 9:00 P.M.
The Queens Economic Development Corporation, the Queens Tourism Council, and lead sponsor Fairway Market are proud to announce that the borough's premiere food-and-networking event, Queens Taste 2014, will take place at the Sheraton LaGuardia East Hotel, 135-20 39th Avenue in Flushing, from 6:00 P.M. till 9:00 P.M. on Tuesday, 29 April.
The reasons to attend are as diverse as the borough itself. Foodies can expect to feast on everything from sweet to savory; Mexican to mainstream; and crunchy to creamy (including artisanal specialties prepared by Entrepreneur Space clients). And, of course, there will be various libations to fortify the spirit of the event.
As part of the fun, clowns from the Big Apple Circus will perform magic tricks and distribute free red clown noses to all attendees (or at least to those who want one). In addition, QEDC and the Queens Historical Society will host a table exhibiting memorabilia from the 1939 and 1964 World's Fairs—both of which took place in Flushing Meadows Corona Park.
Finally, this event affords a perfect venue for networking. QEDC hopes to attract some 1,000 attendees, with most either residing in Queens or doing business in the borough. Thus, Queens Taste 2014 provides a convivial setting in which to meet like-minded individuals, talk shop, and exchange business cards.
Queens Taste 2014 costs $100 for an individual ticket, or $175 for two. Proceeds support QEDC's ongoing efforts to attract and maintain jobs in the borough through business services, neighborhood development, the E-Space, and marketing attractions through QTC and the Discover Queens brand. As QEDC is a 501 (c) (3) nonprofit, proceeds are tax deductible as permitted by law.
To enter for a chance to win a pair of tickets to Queens Taste 2014, please click on: https://www.facebook.com/ItsInQueens.
Queens Taste 2013
Tuesday, 29 April 2014, 6:00 P.M. till 9:00 P.M.
* * *
To view last year's event, please click on the link: Queens Taste 2013
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