On a recent bone-chilling day, a ravenous Comestaccomplice stopped by and suggested we eat something "warm and hearty." Knowing how much she likes lamb, I asked, "How about Turkish?" She knew immediately what I had in mind: Memo Shish Kebab in Midwood, Brooklyn. My erstwhile super, a Turk, introduced me to this marvelous Mediterranean eatery several years ago. It has remained my favorite place for doner (gyro) ever since.
Babaghanoush/Patlican Ezmesi
Our meal began with a generous, "small" portion ($5 small/$8 large) of patlican ezmesi (babaghanoush), a delicious purée of eggplant, prepared with tahini (sesame paste), olive oil, onion, and garlic. Its delightful smokiness distinguishes it from similar preparations I've tried. Memo's home bread—a soft, round, seeded flatbread—made a splendid companion. We were off to a great start.
Lamb Gyro/Doner
Having tried a number of dishes, including the highly recommended Iskender kebab (a seasonal offering, featuring a lightly hot tomato sauce), I continue to prefer the lamb doner (pronounced doh·NAIR) to all the rest. Memo's exquisitely seasoned ground lamb, cooked on a spit over charcoal, is among the most flavorful I've tasted. The fresh spices, together with the accompanying cacik and spicy red sauce, yield an harmonious gustatory union. On this visit, I ordered my favorite: a large portion of the #4 Lamb Gyro/Doner. Whether served as a platter ($8/$13) or as a sandwich ($6/$7), this is one tasty viand.
Lamb Gyro sandwich on Home Bread
My Comestaccomplice raved about the succulence of her #2 Shish Kebab ($8.5/$13). (She was quick to concede that her numerous kebab efforts have never produced the same degree of moistness.) Rather than overwhelming the charcoal-grilled chunks of lamb, the marinade is subtle enough to reveal the rich flavors of the meat, yet savory enough to obviate the need for additional seasoning. While shish kebab is normally served with rice, my dining partner opted for "pretty good" French-fried potatoes instead.
Shish Kebab
Although the menu lists baklava and puddings under the heading, "DESERT/TATLILAR," I had another place in mind for dessert: a little Turkish café not far away. (Ah, but that's the subject of another post.)
Memo underwent an expansion a few years ago. Though still somewhat spare, the larger space is comfortable and inviting. Its true appeal, however, continues to be the appetizing redolence of grilled meat and fresh spices.
No Italian New Year's Eve dinner is complete without Cotechino con Lenticchie, a traditional dish of lentils and fresh pork sausage. Symbolizing coins, lentils are believed to bring luck and prosperity for the coming year. Cotechino (pronounced koh·teh·KEE·no) is a mild, fatty sausage of considerable girth (roughly three inches in diameter). It is made from coteca (pork rind) and meat from the cheek, neck, and shoulder, and seasoned delicately with clove, nutmeg, salt, and pepper. The resulting sausage is very soft—almost to the point of being creamy.
My pre-New Year's Eve sample of this holiday classic came in the form of a warm bowl of Umbrian lentil soup with cotechino. Will it bring me prosperity early?
Indulge your champagne taste at one or more of these free bubbly tastings:
Tuesday, 29 December:
Candoni tasting
This tasting features two Italian sparklers from Candoni: the delicate, fruity Prosecco; and the more sweet, less alcoholic, frizzante Moscato D'Italia.
Long's Wines & Liquors
7917 5th Avenue (between 79th & 80th Sts), Bay Ridge, Brooklyn 4:00 P.M. to 7:00 P.M. Free.
By train: 2,3 (IRT) to Wall St; 4,5 (IRT),J,M,Z (BMT) to Fulton St; A,C to Broadway-Nassau By bus: M1, M6
Tasting times at both stores: 5:00 P.M. to 7:00 P.M. Free.
Wednesday, 30 December:
Grower Sparklers
Discover why the folks at The Greene Grape believe that "champagne from those who both grow their grapes and bottle their juice is superior to negociant champagne." Five grower sparklers will be poured at The Greene Grape's two stores.
See above for locations and directions. 5:00 P.M. to 7:00 P.M. Free.
Thursday, 31 December:
Roederer tasting
Heather Hamilton at Long's Wines in Brooklyn invites you to compare the citrus and apple flavors of the French Louis Roederer Brut Premier (91 points—Wine Enthusiast) with the pear, spice, and hazelnut flavors of the American Roederer Estate Brut.
Since 1983, The Food Bank For New York City has devoted itself to ending hunger through various programs designed to provide emergency food assistance, information, and support "for community survival and dignity." An independent, non-profit organization, the Food Bank procures and distributes comestibles to a network comprising roughly 1,000 food assistance programs throughout the city.
With the number of needy New Yorkers having doubled to some four million over the past six years, the Food Bank's donated food assets have reached an unprecedented low. Regardless of your views concerning recent bailouts of financial institutions, this bank could really use your help.
Today we give thanks and celebrate the bounty of the harvest. To those expecting to feast heartily, may I suggest punctuating your meal with a trou normand (pronounced true nor·MAHN; literally, "Norman hole")? At a certain stage of a grand dinner in Normandy, it was customary to pause for a glass of calvados to boost the metabolism and create a "hole" to make room for additional comestibles. Nothing prolongs the pleasures of overindulgence more than a good shot of calva.
Calvados (pronounced cull·vah·DOSE) takes its name from the eponymous département in the northwest of France, a region that does not produce wine. Normandy's rich pastures and orchards are better suited to dairy farming and apple growing than to viticulture. Apples have a lengthy history in this area: cider dates back to the eighth century, long before its first documented distillation in 1553.
Although best known as an apple (cider) brandy, calvados can, by law, be produced from apples or pears. Over 200 types of apple—ranging from sweet to inedibly tart—are permitted in its production. The fruit is harvested, pressed, and allowed to ferment (four to six weeks) into a dry cider, whereupon, it is distilled and aged.
As with grape brandies, calvados is protected by its own appellations. Pays d'Auge, the premier appellation contrôlée designation, applies to the core of the apple brandy production area, and continues to yield the highest-quality calvados. Second-tier appellations refer to areas surrounding the Pays d'Auge. The biggest difference is that Pays d'Auge cider must undergo a double distillation in a pot still, whereas others typically go through a single, continuous distillation in a column still. The former method yields more flavor and complexity, while the latter produces a lighter, more apple-like flavor.
Age is a matter of taste and budget, of course. Nevertheless, the older the calvados, the smoother and rounder it tends to be. The age given on the bottle refers to the youngest component in the blend. The following is a guide to age-related terms found on labels:
Trois étoiles, *** (2 years)
Vieux, Réserve (3 years)
VO, VSOP, Vieille Réserve (4 years)
XO, Extra, Napoléon, Hors d'Âge, Age Inconnu (6 years)
My personal favorite comes from Château du Breuil, in the Pays d'Auge. The Réserve des Seigneurs - XO and, especially, the Royal are among the smoothest, richest, most complex I've tasted. Their deep, dark color makes no secret of old age. It's well worth spending a little more for a more mature brandy. Regardless of your choice, a good calvados makes the perfect digestif—tried and trou Normand. Santé!
Anahad O'Connor of The Caucus, the politics and government blog of The New York Times, reported that a number of spelling errors appeared on the menu at President Obama's state dinner last night. Among the mistakes: a reference to a wine from Oregon's Wilamette (instead of Willamette) Valley; a description of a dish made with chick peas (instead of chickpeas); and the unhyphenated name of Thibaut Janisson Brut, a Virginia sparkling chardonnay.
The author also condemned the misspelling of Grenache as follows: "The correct spelling of the popular varietal, one of the most widely planted types of red grape in the world, is actually 'Grenache' with only one 'a,' not two." Sorry, Mr. O'Connor, but Grenache, when described as a type of grape, is correctly called a variety, not a varietal. (The wine produced from the grape variety is the varietal.) If you're going to split hairs, at least try to use the proper terminology.
Fat Franks, the self-proclaimed Wurst Place in Bellows Falls, is a place to relish. Anyone can serve a hot dog, but not everyone can do it right. This little place offers perfectly prepared frankfurters, sausages, and burgers in a clean, friendly, and welcoming environment. Though the franks and such are not made here, their provenance is local and regional. To wit, the bacon and most of the smoked sausages come from nearby Claremont, New Hampshire, while the wienies and other wursts come from Boston, Springfield, and Mattapan, Massachusetts. Even the ale used to poach the knackwurst and bratwurst hails from Vermont's own Long Trail Brewing Company.
Begun some three-and-a-half years ago, this excellent wurst venture was a result of some compelling circumstances. While Jim Mort was growing dissatisfied with his job, a Chinese restaurant, the sole tenant of his building next to Miss Bellows Falls Diner, closed and vacated the premises. The time was right for his embarkation into the man-eat-dog world of wieners.
Visitors to this Bellows Falls wienery can enjoy their red hots in three of the wurst ways: eat-in, take-home, or self-serve. Perusal of the comprehensive menu reveals every manner of encased meat imaginable, including lamb, chicken, andouille, and Italian sausages, kielbasy, and German-style würste. Each of the seven types of sausage is smothered in its own perfectly matched sauce-and-veggie concoction. For the dogs, at least 15 toppings are available, along with several sides such as hand-cut Russet fries (with optional chili and cheese), homemade coleslaw, and beans laced with maple syrup. Beyond the wurst, Fat Franks offers seven-ounce beef burgers (as well as turkey and vegetable varieties), also prepared in seemingly infinite ways. For those who prefer a doggie bag, three sizes of frankfurter—Everyday, Skinny, and Fat—are sold by the pound, along with the aforementioned bacon and sausages. One can even purchase the perennially popular Sabrett's sauerkraut by the bag. Finally, to satisfy stomachs growling for a quick bite, there's the self-service steam table at which one can dress up a so-called Everyday Dog in fine fashion. This is how my Comestaccomplice and I sampled the best of the wurst.
The Everyday Dog’s meaty flavor and proper "snap" reflect Fat Franks' attention to quality. Though not all the menu's add-ons are available here, the superior toppings and condiments more than adequately round out a truly delicious experience. While this New Yorker has grown accustomed to Sabrett's sauerkraut (and was pleased to see it among the self-service offerings), I've never enjoyed a tastier, spicier (homemade) chili topping anywhere. In addition, the well-chosen Raye's Stone Mill Mustards from Maine afford a deeply-flavored sauce for every sausage. Lastly, to help tame the dogs, beer and wine are available.
Frankly speaking, in the world of wursts, this place is a wiener.
Fat Franks
92 Rockingham Street Bellows Falls, VT 05101-1316 (map)
Can KFC do a grilled chicken giveaway right this time? Find out for yourself today, Monday, 26 October 2009 when participating restaurants offer one free piece of Kentucky Grilled Chicken per person.
I have to admit that the Colonel's grilled samples were hot, succulent, and very tasty.
Were the name Steve's Authentic Key Lime Pies not already sufficiently long, the term Old-Fashioned could be wedged in. Steve Tarpin grew up around Key limes and knows what it takes to make a good, traditional pie therefrom. Because of his unending disappointment with commercial varieties, the Florida woodworker-carpenter decided to bake his own Key lime pies at home for family and friends. That was over 30 years ago. Roughly a decade later, Tarpin came to New York from his native Miami to work with a friend. After an injury in 1995 left him unemployed, a fortuitous meeting led Tarpin to hammer out a new career. It was at a barbecue of the Red Meat Club that Steve's pies drew the favorable attention of a Manhattan restaurateur. From an initial order of three pies, Steve's Authentic was born.
As business increased, so did the need for a capacious delivery vehicle. Tarpin's purchase of a '53 Ford F-100 Flathead V8 embodied utility and marketing savvy. The unmistakable pale yellow truck turned heads everywhere it went. Needless to say, the Key Lime Express accelerated press coverage and helped to drive up sales. Though mainly out of the limelight now, the truck still greets visitors to Steve's at Pier 41 in Red Hook.
One might say the quirky 50-something adheres to his own version of the KISS principle: Keep It Simple, Steve. (Even his surname is a simplification of the Armenian Tarpinian.) Five ingredients—pasteurized egg yolks, sweetened condensed milk, butter, graham crackers, and Key limes—comprise his sole product. Though the recipe may sound simple, the key to its authenticity is in the limes and in the preparation.
Steve's pies are made with freshly squeezed juice from true Key limes that his supplier ships to him every few weeks. (Key limes are smaller and more acidic than the Persian variety typically found in grocery stores.) No bottled juice or concentrate is ever used. Furthermore, the pies are not baked. Rather, they are "filled and chilled" to preserve the integrity of the lime juice as well as the consistency of the filling. And because no coloring is added, the filling's pale yellowish hue remains faithful to the fruit. Though a little sweeter than I'd prefer, the resulting confection is creamy and quite tasty.
Steve's wares are available in three sizes: 10-inch and 8-inch pies ($25 and $15, respectively), and a 4-inch tart ($4). Several years ago, the Swingle ($5), a variation of an ice cream bar, was added to the offerings. This unique warm-weather treat was named in honor of Dr. Walter Tennyson Swingle (1871–1952), the American agricultural botanist who categorized the Key lime (Citrus aurantifolia). It's a 4-inch tart on a stick, dipped into melted chocolate, and frozen. Tarpin uses Belcolade, a dark chocolate from Belgium. As with other Belgian varieties, this one is overly sweet and thus overpowers the crisp, key lime flavors it envelops. While the cacao adds an interesting twist, a thinner coating or a less sweet variant (from fellow Brooklynite Jacques Torres, perhaps?) would yield a better balance of flavors. I wish a naked Swingle, sans chocolate, were available.
Although recent changes, including the openings of Fairway and IKEA, have drawn an influx of new residents and visitors to Red Hook, Steve's Authentic Key Lime Pies remains off the beaten path. The entire operation is run from a Civil War-era warehouse on the waterfront. The bakery, small retail shop, and outdoor patio provide a laid-back setting far more reminiscent of South Florida than of South Brooklyn. Nestled among tropical plants and a mechanical waterfall, the outdoor seating area affords a relaxing spot in which to enjoy a Swingle or a tart while sipping a Key Limonade ($2). Spectacular vistas of the harbor and the Statue of Liberty are to be had just around the corner. Though a considerable distance from the nearest subway line, it's worth a trip to Steve's for an authentic, old-fashioned, taste of the Sunshine State.
Steve's Authentic Key Lime Pies
204 Van Dyke Street (at Barnell St), Pier 41, Red Hook, Brooklyn (map)
Were it not for the billowing smoke and hunger-inducing aromas wafting though the air, it would be easy to miss the two blue school buses that house "The 9th Wonder of the World." Curtis' Bar·B·Q, just up the hill from exit 4 on Interstate 91 in Vermont, is in its 41st season of serving southern-style barbecue in the quaint village of Putney. Over the years, this seasonal, unassuming stand has garnered a loyal following not just locally, but well beyond these verdant hills as well.
What brings people back season after season? The answer begins with the man behind the grill. Curtis Tuff, a native of Macomb, Georgia, was a migrant farm worker who followed harvests from Florida to New England. In 1961, Curtis' itinerancy came to an end, however, when he found steady work picking apples for the Darrow family at Green Mountain Orchards in Putney. To augment his income, Tuff used his know-how to prepare pig roasts for special events at area schools. Using temporary cooking pits he fashioned from cement blocks, as well as a sauce based on his grandfather's recipe, Curtis gradually introduced Vermonters to real southern barbecue. It wasn't long before word-of-mouth generated consistent demand for his cooking.
The aforementioned cement blocks proved unwieldy and short-lived, however. That's where the school buses entered the scene. Employing a little Yankee ingenuity, the Southerner outfitted the vehicles with a fire pit crafted from a 275-gallon oil drum, halved lengthwise, and vented through the roof with stove pipes and a fan.
By 1968, Curtis' Bar·B·Q was a going concern. With his newfound grilling mobility, Tuff took his barbecue act on the road to nearby locales including a number of school campuses. His popularity among lucubratory students earned him the unofficial title of "The 9th Wonder of the World," a slogan he uses to this day.
The limited menu of pork ribs and chicken hasn't changed much over the years. Nevertheless, it was enough to draw the attention of The New York Times, whose favorable, 1988 article helped Tuff find permanent parking spots for his blue school buses. The newer bus serves as the main stand, with a small counter and two of its windows flipped up to accommodate customer orders and pickups. To the right, under a corrugated metal roof, the affable, 72-year-old Curtis Tuff can be seen grilling meats amid clouds of smoke. He still uses his halved oil drums, now mounted atop an old hay wagon.
Service seems to be instantaneous. I scarcely had time to put away my change when my order was ready. Seating is available at picnic tables that flank the unpaved parking lot. A new open-sided picnic shed seems somehow out of place. Though it is the only structure on the premises that does not appear ramshackle (or perhaps because of that), the older seating area with umbrellas—nearer the road—tends to be more popular.
Cooking time is roughly 80 minutes for a slab of ribs; 90 minutes for a three-pound chicken. Curtis refuses to use charcoal, opting, instead, for hardwoods—which include, of course, maple. The meat is done to perfection, its succulence imbued with a rich, sweet, smoky flavor. Though the barbecue sauce delivers the right amount of heat, its tang verges on being overly vinegary. The flavor reminds me somewhat of Tabasco®. There's a practical reason for the acidity, however. Because the recipe predates the advent of refrigeration, vinegar was added as a preservative.
Small portion (2) of Ribs
Although barbecue may not be the first thing that comes to mind when visiting the Green Mountain State, Curtis' quality and convenience make this a perfect stop for a quick bite while leaf-peeping. The experience is quite satisfying. While wiping his mouth and preparing to leave, a person at the next table declared, "Another great meal!"
Not so many restaurants can boast of a history as long as that of Pals Cabin in West Orange, New Jersey. This "heritage of hospitality" began as a summertime venture by two friends during the Great Depression. Martin L. Horn and Bion LeRoy Sale obtained permission to squat on a bank-foreclosed property at the busy intersection of Prospect and Eagle Rock Avenues. On 18 May 1932, "Marty" and "Roy," as they were known, began selling 10-cent hot dogs from a 10-by-12-foot stand they had constructed. "It was better than selling apples on a street corner," Martin Horn was wont to say.
Following their initial success, the pals enclosed the hot dog stand as the first of many expansions to their cabin. Within three years, Pals Special, a highly popular 50-cent charcoal-broiled steak, was added to the menu. By 1936, Pals Cabin had become a full-service restaurant, and the price of its signature steak had risen to 75 cents. Numerous additions over the years have resulted in the current space—a vast edifice that reveals little of the restaurant's humble beginnings.
Pals offers several areas in which to dine and unwind, including the Tap Room, the formal Winchester Room, the counter, and The Cabin. With its high ceiling, exposed beams, stone walls, and capacious wooden booths, The Cabin is the restaurant's core and mainstay. Were its scale not quite so grand, one might consider it cozy. But let's just call it very comfortable.
The Cabin
Occupying a category between family and formal, this was the sort of place at which I seldom dined as a young child. Any gustatory recollections of Pals Cabin derive from my so-called adulthood. My earliest impressions were based more on fantasy and speculation than on direct experience. I remember it as a prominent landmark that stood across Eagle Rock Avenue from the now-defunct Korvette City, a large shopping center that my family frequented. In certain respects, however, Pals does evoke childhood memories of dining out. The service, in particular, is reminiscent of my early years. It is extremely gracious without being affected or overly formal. There appears to be none of the trite, artificial familiarity that has become so inexplicably fashionable these days. Instead, the demeanor of the staff is warmly polite, yet conservatively respectful. It comes as a refreshing change not to be addressed as, "you guys." Perhaps it is this old-fashioned deportment that most reminds me of dinners out as a child.
Pals Famous Cream of Mushroom Soup
Among the 15 starters on the menu, one is a must: Pals' velvety, justly famous, Cream of Mushroom Soup ($5.50). Its rich velouté of roux and chicken stock, combined with an abundance of chopped, sautéed mushrooms and finely chopped shallots, is irresistible. I order it without fail. Many soups of this sort emphasize cream at the expense of a deep mushroom flavor in the broth. Pals', however, offers both the cream and the rich, earthy flavor I seek. It's easy to understand why this award-winning soup continues to be a customer favorite after more than seven decades.
Included with my main course was Pals' double salad, a somewhat ordinary bowl of tossed greens with croutons. The homemade bleu cheese dressing continues to be the best option.
Hungarian Goulash
My Comestaccomplice and I both ordered the Hungarian Goulash over egg noodles ($19.95) as our main dish. The recipe of is said to have been "handed down from generations of the Horn family." To be honest, it could have been stewed—but even more critically, allowed to marinate—significantly longer. Although the flavors were very fresh, the cabernet-infused sauce was noticeably under-salted. Furthermore, the cuts of beef were slightly tough and not optimally integrated with the sauce. The goulash should have been prepared at least a day in advance, and cooked till the meat opened up to allow the sauce to tenderize each chunk. Tenderization occurs only when the meat is permitted to rest awhile; the longer it sits, the more flavor permeates each grain. The portion, incidentally, was so large that my Comestaccomplice took home most of hers. The leftover goulash lasted her three days, a period during which it developed an increasingly deep and rich flavor. By the third day, it was a remarkably good goulash!
After dinner, we took a stroll down memory lane. In the lower entryway, and scattered elsewhere in the restaurant, the walls are adorned with photographs, menus, and other mementos from Pals' early days. Among the memorabilia is a bill, from the 1940s, promoting a "sensational young pianist" named Walter Liberace who played the baby grand here for his supper and $50 a week.
Please click on an image above to view an early Pals menu.
The steaks are higher nowadays, as are the hot dogs. Today, Pals Famous New York strip steak costs $30.95 for an 18-ounce serving; 25.95 for a 14-ounce cut. A foot-long frankfurter now sells for $7.95. Though times have clearly changed since the two pals sold hot dogs from their small cabin, this venerable eating establishment continues to draw diners from near and far. With Martin Horn's grandchildren currently at the helm, Pals Cabin is in its third generation and eighth decade of family ownership. Who would have imagined that a summer venture would have produced such a legacy?
Pals Cabin
265 Prospect Avenue (SW corner Eagle Rock Av) West Orange, N.J. 07052-4205 (map)
Baltimore Summer Restaurant Week starts today, Fryday, and highlights "a different kind of delicious daily" through Dim Sumday, 16 August. Over 90 restaurants offer three-course meals, fixed-priced at $20.09 for lunch and $30.09 for dinner
(excluding beverages, taxes, and gratuities).
Up the Eastern seaboard, Restaurant Week Boston® offers a fortnight—Sunday through Friday, 9-14 & 16-21 August—of discounted dining at more than 200 restaurants in the Greater Boston area. Prix fixe options include two-course lunches for $15.09, three-course lunches for $20.09, and three-course dinners for $33.09 per person (excluding beverages, taxes, and gratuities).
During my early years in West Orange, New Jersey, our family often ate at some of the area's various beaneries. They weren't all that good or bad, they were simply all I knew. Most of the old places have long since closed or disappeared altogether. It was most saddening, for instance, to discover the Claremont Diner and the White Castle in Verona had made way for an automotive dealership. There is, however, an extant relic from my childhood at Tory Corner, just a few blocks up Main Street from Thomas Edison National Historical Park. The West Orange Pancake House and Diner, mirabile dictu, continues to serve decent victuals, and now does so round-the-clock, seven days a week.
I knew this 1950s-era stainless steel edifice as the Tory Corner Diner, the initials of which remain inlaid on the floor of its vestibule. Aside from the name and a few cosmetic updates, little else appears to have changed over the years. Looking at this place evokes childhood memories of black-and-white television sets, named telephone exchanges (ours was REdwood), drugstores with soda fountains, and life before the Essex Freeway (I-280). After a warm, enthusiastic welcome from owner Paul Mihalitsianos and his son, Gerry, what could be finer than eating in this diner again after so many years?
While it seems that diners typically offer extensive menus, this one's is so vast as to make it difficult to make a selection. Its 15 pages offer everything from appetizers to "fantastic finishes." Though several items entreated, I felt as though I'd discover something even more appealing the moment I placed my order.
West Orange Special
Listed under Sandwiches Paul's Way, my West Orange Special ($11.95)—sliced London broil on garlic bread with lettuce and tomato—was a standout. The broiled meat was seasoned with a heavy hand, which, under most circumstances could have ruined it. But the cook understood the fat content and age of the cut with masterly precision. As a result, the spices were on target for maximizing this steak’s succulence and flavor. I’ve been served beef in very fine restaurants that was analyzed and prepared with far less skill than it was here. The accompanying thickly cut onion rings were quite all right, but the reconstituted french fried potatoes failed to measure up to the taste and quality of their plate partners.
Harold's New York-style Deli Sandwich
Harold's New York-style corned beef sandwich ($12.95), my Comestaccomplice's selection, was advertised as the best available. (Namesake Harold Jaffe once operated the aforementioned Claremont Diner as well as New York's Carnegie Deli.) Extremely lean and flavorful, the corned beef was piled high between two slices of rye bread and served on a platter that was as almost as big as the menu itself. While it was very tasty indeed, the corned beef was also somewhat dry—perhaps owing to its leanness. Fortunately, the accompanying coleslaw and half-sours, both excellent, added welcome moisture between meaty mouthfuls. The garlic bread was yet another very tasty side.
Comfort food somehow seems even more comforting when consumed in a familiar environment. Though I don't return to West Orange often, it's reassuring to know I can still revisit a "living" childhood memory here.
West Orange Pancake House and Diner
270 Main Street (between Prospect Pl & Kling St) West Orange, N.J. 07052-5617 (map)
Special thanks to Michelle Colombaris Berger for sharing the following memories from the days her family owned the Tory Corner Diner: (Please click on any image to enlarge it.)
"My dad used to tell a story about a family trip we made to Canada in the 60's. When we got there and checked into the motel there was a book of matches from our diner sitting in the ashtray in the motel room!!!!"
"The two men are my dad, Nicholas Colombaris and an unknown. The pic is dated May 1962, the year that West Orange celebrated its centennial. There was a parade and many men grew beards and marched as the Brothers of the Bush (or Brush)."
"Nicholas Colombaris, my dad, sitting in his favorite booth. This was right inside the front door on the Main Street side of the building."
With the arrival of the summer's heat and humidity, how does a refreshing, ice-cold glass of lemonade sound? My high-octane variant of the summertime favorite combines vodka, limoncello, fresh lemon juice, and seltzer to produce a refreshing, effervescent cooler.
My spirituous selections include the citrus-flavored Absolut Citron Swedish vodka and Sogno di Sorrento™ Lemoncello made from I.G.P. Amalfi Coast lemons. While plain seltzer is fine, lemon seltzer (from Polar, if possible) is preferable. In any case, it's best to avoid club soda.
Comestiblog Lemonade (or Lemon Fizz):
1½ ounces Absolut Citron
2½ ounces Sogno di Sorrento™ Lemoncello
3 ounces lemon seltzer
Juice of 1½ lemons
Stir, add ice, and serve. Garnish with a slice of lemon. (Not to be served at a lemonade stand without proper license.)
Dine-In Brooklyn was winding down, it was rainy, dark, and becoming late. Where to eat? Several unsuccessful attempts to score a last-minute reservation ultimately led to an enthusiastic availability at Chez Oskar in Fort Greene. I'd passed the French-style bistro on several occasions but never paid it much heed. But what the heck? The situation was becoming desperate enough to warrant a $23 gamble.
Chez Oskar is a lively place that seems quite at home in this diverse neighborhood. It could best be described as a bistro à la Brooklyn—casual, funky, and comfortable. The service is friendly and the food is good, but I'd restrain any praise beyond that.
Country Pâté
I seldom surrender to cravings involving cholesterol-laden foods, but the Country Pâté sounded the most promising among the five starters on the restaurant-week menu. Though the presentation was attractive, the taste failed to live up to the promise. Bland and uninspired, this dish made me rue my dietary transgression. It's a pity that the comparably priced escargots or the slightly more expensive salmon-and-tuna tartare were not offered. Perhaps they would have made a better first impression.
Lamb Shank
The five main course offerings—comprising fish, chicken, lamb, beef, and mushroom risotto—were ostensibly well-chosen, appealing to a broad array of tastes. Owing to the weather, I ordered the Lamb Shank to help defend against the chill that awaited me outside. The meat, tender enough to fall off the bone, was served with fingerling potatoes, artichokes, sautéed endives, and pomegranate sauce. The resulting concoction tasted much like a lamb stew. While not bad, it was unremarkable and rather ordinary. Statistically speaking, it seemed fitting that, among les plats of my two Comestaccomplices, mine ranked squarely in the middle.
Free Range Chicken
As at Pó Brooklyn, the fowl was a better choice here. The Free Range Chicken with pancetta-potato gratin, caramelized onions, fava beans, and red wine sauce was rather tasty, albeit unexceptional. Instead of educing flavor from the chicken, however, the sauce's role was reduced to that of an inoffensive, unassuming accompaniment to the bird. It was a pleasant dish that would have benefited from a more aggressive sauce. Perhaps I was foolishly expecting something a bit more akin to a coq au vin.
Lemon and Garlic Crusted Codfish
The Lemon-and-Garlic Crusted Codfish was the weakest of the main courses I sampled. Served with poached leeks, potato crisp, and whole grain mustard vinaigrette, this offering could be aptly described as an insipid piece of fish with a few embellishments. Unfortunately, its plate mates were too bland to rescue the foundering cod.
Sweet Apple Crêpes
Desserts were commensurate with the courses that preceded them—lots of promise unfulfilled. I'm not sure why I had high hopes for the Sweet Apple Crêpes. They certainly looked good. The dry, flavorless pancakes with caramelized apples left me as cold as the accompanying cinnamon ice cream, however. Although the Warm Chocolate Cake with vanilla ice cream was slightly better, it failed to catapult my taste buds into cacao ether. None of us was tempted by the Mango Crème Caramel.
Warm Chocolate Cake
Unfortunately, none of our dishes seemed to cross the threshold that separates the extraordinary from the ordinary. Most of the flavors failed to soar and some never even managed to take flight. Nevertheless, Chez Oskar's following has continued to keep it afloat since 1998. In terms of the $23 gamble, we probably broke even. This is a good neighborhood bistro, but scarcely worth a trip on the G train.
NYC Restaurant Week™ Summer 2009 starts today and continues through the end of the month. The "week" actually spans three
weeks—12-31 July—and includes over 250 New York City restaurants. Three courses cost $24.07 for lunch and $35 for dinner (excluding taxes, beverages, and gratuities).
Update: NYC Restaurant Week™ has been extended through Labor Day.
Up the coast, Providence Restaurant WeekS also starts today and will run through 25 July. Over 75 restaurants will offer three-course meals, fixed-priced at $12.95 for lunch and $29.95 for dinner
(excluding taxes, beverages, and gratuities).
Liberté, égalité, and fraternité will be celebrated slightly early again in Gotham this year.
Manhattan
On Sunday, 12 July, from 12:00 Noon till 6:00 P.M., everyone is invited to celebrate Bastille Day on 60th Street, New York's "street fair with French flair." The three-block fête takes place between Fifth and Lexington Avenues. Enjoy Gallic delicacies at one of the many pique-nique tables provided.
By train: N,R,W to 5th Avenue or Lexington Avenue; 4,5,6 to 59th Street
On Tuesday, 14 July, le quatorze juillet, Cercle Rouge brings Bastille Day festivities to TriBeCa. From 12:00 Noon till 8:00 P.M., pétanque sand courts, football de table (foosball), and entertainment will fill the block on West Broadway between Beach and White Streets. Mangez traditional merguez sausages and frites while sipping Lillet, Deutz champagne, or another favorite libation.
On Sunday, Smith Street becomes Rue Smith when it hosts Brooklyn's Bastille Day festivities. Both Bar Tabac and Provence en Boîte will hold all-day celebrations featuring French food, drink, and pétanque tournaments.
In 1993, before his celebrity on the Food Network, Mario Batali opened Pó, a small trattoria in Manhattan's West Village. Despite the founding chef's departure seven years later, the Cornelia Street eatery continued to thrive. Following the success of the original, Pó Brooklyn was launched in 2007 and has been on my radar ever since. A friend's recommendation, nay, insistence, compelled me to try the Smith Street edition during Dine-In Brooklyn 2009.
It was rainy and raw the day of my visit. Mother Nature did little to brighten the dim interior, which my Comestaccomplice called soigné. Nevertheless, the white table linen lightened the dark and cozy dining room while adding a touch of elegance to the casual setting. The service was consistent with the ambiance—very accommodating without being intrusive.
The restaurant week menu choices were considerable, comprising four starters, five main courses, and three desserts. Worthy representatives from the regular menu, including vegetarian options, were selected judiciously. In general, gustatory ratings for promotional prix-fixe specials range from tolerable to very good. The cucina of Pó Brooklyn raises the bar, however—my meal was excellent in nearly every respect. Lacking any hint of mass production, each dish looked and tasted as though Chef Lee McGrath had prepared it especially for me. This trattoria represents one of the best values I've encountered during Dine-In Brooklyn—not necessarily in quantity, but in quality. It's hard to imagine a better $23 dinner anywhere.
White Bean Bruschetta
Our meal began with a complimentary (normally $2) White Bean Bruschetta. The combination of canellini beans, olive oil, herbs and spices (including hot red pepper flakes, the sine qua non of Batali dishes) provided a pleasant deviation from common tomato-based toppings. Receiving a corresponding recipe card with our snack added an ingratiating touch. We were off to a propitious start.
Cured Tuna
My Cured Tuna antipasto yielded a bit of a surprise: the blend of tuna, canellini beans, sliced artichokes, and red onion atop a bed of frisée—all amid a chili-mint vinaigrette—gave every indication of being an insalata. Regardless of its name, however, the successful union of ingredients resulted in an uncomplicated, yet excellent, starter.
Cider Brined Grilled Pork Tenderloin
My secondo piatto, unlike my "antipasto," was much as I had envisioned it to be. The Cider-Brined Grilled Pork Tenderloin with braised cabbage and apple mostarda combined elements in a manner akin to reuniting old chums. Though well-prepared and beautifully presented, this dish took no risks and demonstrated little desire to stray from anyone's comfort zone. There's nothing intrinsically wrong with that, because it was tasty. But in the company of more inspired offerings, the pork tenderloin was bit trite.
Grilled Guinea Hen
I realized I could have chosen a better main course upon sampling my Comestaccomplice's Grilled Guinea Hen. It was a masterpiece that united simplicity with exquisite flavors. Grilled and seasoned to a dark perfection, the bird was served atop pumpkin-and-scallion fregula (pearl-shaped pasta) and encircled by a ring of olive oil and saba (Italian grape syrup). This was the pièce de résistance of the evening—a veritable symphony of flavors. The succulent hen, with its masterly preparation, provided incentive enough for me to become a regular here.
Dark Chocolate Terrine
Finally, the dolce did not disappoint. My Dark Chocolate Terrine (amaretti Sorrano, Vin Santo, and espresso-caramel sauce) tasted every bit as good as it looked and left me with a sort of cacao "high." It provided a sweet ending to a marvelous meal that didn't make me Po'. This was a delightful meal, from start to finish. But then, alas, it was back into the rain for me …
Pó Brooklyn
276 Smith Street (between Degraw & Sackett Sts), Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn
When last I dined at this Bay Ridge bistro, it was called Provence en Boîte. Although owners Jean-Jacques and Leslie Bernat have since packed up and relocated their Provençal "box" to Boerum Hill, this space retained its Gallic flavor when Jerome Vidy reopened it as Saint Germain in August, 2004. (The name, incidentally, comes from the Left Bank district in Paris around the quartier latin, or Latin quarter—an historic area known for its literary and artistic life.) I've wanted to try the Third Avenue namesake of Saint-Germain-des-Prés for some time, but have always considered the prices un peu cher. This spring's Dine-In Brooklyn, however, afforded me an affordable occasion to sample their cuisine.
Being seated at my favorite table brought back memories of this bistro's previous incarnation. Little has changed in the dining room since my last visit: guests must still pass the enticing dessert showcase upon entering; the bar still stands along the wall beyond the confections; and the banquette still lines the opposite wall. Though the cooking has remained French, the service has not. (I miss the Bernat's lovely niece, a delightful French serveuse.)
The special prix-fixe menu (please see below) comprised four starters, four main courses, and seemingly countless desserts. It offered a well-chosen selection, mostly from the regular menu. The unaccustomed generosity of the promotional portions came as quite a pleasant (and satisfying) surprise.
My Kir Royale apéritif set the tone for the first course. Its rosy effervescence made a delightful partner to the smoked salmon platter. The sparkling wine, combined with the sweet influences of the cassis, complemented the rich smokiness of the fish as well as the piquancy of the caper garnish. Generously portioned and served with toast and lettuce, this was a marvelous starter. Interestingly, the salmon platter does not appear on the regular menu, though it probably should.
Smoked salmon platter with toast and lettuce
I should have ordered wine for my second round. Instead, I succumbed to the seductive appeal of the Brigitte Bardot cocktail. The mixture of lemon vodka, triple sec, and sparkling French pink lemonade sounded better than it tasted. What was I thinking? (I wonder whether I'll fall victim to Wild Love or a Screaming Orgasm next time.)
Onward to the main course. Since I had a hankering for meat, I chose the Flank Steak au Poivre with pommes frites. Popular in French kitchens, this cut comes from a part of the cow that normally receives considerable exercise. While quite lean, the flank can be somewhat tough and stringy. Thus, it requires rapid cooking on high heat. As for my steak, it was slightly tough (predictably), but very flavorful, and cooked almost perfectly. I say almost because it was not quite so rare as I'd requested—a minor point, overall. The peppercorn sauce (made with green peppercorns, brandy, and cream) was consistent with my expectations: not great, but not bad, either. It could have benefited from additional brandy. The crisp pommes frites were authentic and very good, indeed. Why can't all french fries be made from real potatoes? Again, the ample portion's scale was more American than it was French.
Flank steak au poivre with pommes frites
Though sated after the main course, I still faced the prospect of selecting a dessert from the large display case. With so many délices from which to choose, I picked the one that seemed to be exhorting me to consume it: the apricot amandine. My initial bite, however, revealed the real reason behind the tart's entreaties: fear of being the last to be chosen. Apparently, this dessert had been deserted awhile. I found myself doing battle with the crust—it was far too rigid. Age may have also played a role in helping the almond paste overpower the retreating flavor forces of the sliced apricots. I prefer my steaks aged, but not so my desserts. (Perhaps I should have ordered the Porcupine confection instead.)
Apricot amandine
Among my Dine-In Brooklyn meals so far, this one has represented the best value. Considering that the regular dinner menu lists steak au poivre at $21.95 and desserts at $6 apiece, the $23 fixed price for my three courses was a bargain. Overall, my dinner was quite satisfactory despite the disappointing apricot amandine. While the bistro fare at Saint Germain is unlikely to win awards for creativity, it is fairly reliable and tasty.
Saint Germain
8303 Third Avenue (near 83rd St), Bay Ridge, Brooklyn
(718) 745-8899
By train: to 86th Street By bus: B37
Please click on the image above for a larger view of the menu.
Although I had just finished a very satisfying dinner, replete with dessert, the sign outside Jacques Torres' latest venture was too inviting to ignore: "Come In! Try Our Ice Cream," it beckoned. Inspired by the success of their ice cream sandwiches over the past four
years, Jacques Torres and his partner Ken Goto opened an
ice cream parlor adjacent to their chocolate factory on Water Street in D.U.M.B.O. The new shop began dishing up its frozen wares two Saturdays ago, on 30 May. Could the renowned chocolatiers also churn out superior ice cream and sorbet? In spite of my satiety, I was determined to investigate.
Co-owner Ken Goto
An initial taste of the mango sorbet failed to portend a second dessert
that evening. Its formidable fruit flavor was, alas, unable to subjugate the surge of insuperable sweetness. A second sample altered my supplemental dessert plans instantly, however. A diminutive spoonful of the exquisite raspberry sorbet virtually exploded in my mouth, leaving behind its fruit-laden shrapnel for my taste buds to savor and exhort for more. A small cup of this tasty treat revealed its silky-smooth texture that could best be described as mousse-like. Its flavor and consistency make this possibly the best raspberry sorbet I've tasted.
Though I limited my trials to sorbet this time, a couple of ice cream flavors aroused my curiosity: namely, the Wicked (spiced with ancho and chipotle chilies) and the Vanilla Caramel Popcorn Crunch. In all, Mr. Chocolate offers more than a dozen flavors of ice cream and sorbet at very reasonable prices. Cones and cups: one scoop ($3); two scoops ($4.75); three scoops ($6). Having mastered chocolates, truffles, bonbons, and now ice cream, Mr. Torres is becoming the Jacques of all treats. What sweets will he conquer next?
Jacques Torres Ice Cream
62 Water Street (near Main St), D.U.M.B.O., Brooklyn
By train: 2,3,4,5 (IRT) to Borough Hall, M,R (BMT) to Court Street By bus: B41, B61, B63, B75
Gateway to Nations, NYC Native American Heritage Celebration
The largest Native American festival in New York City features three days of Native American singing, dancing, drumming, food, crafts, jewelry, birds of prey, and more.
Floyd Bennett Field Gateway National Recreation Area
50 Aviation Road, Brooklyn
Friday, 10:00 A.M. to 4:00 P.M. Saturday & Sunday, 11:00 A.M. to 7:00 P.M.
Rides, games, food, and entertainment for the whole family.
86th Street (19th Av to Bay Pkwy), Bensonhurst, Brooklyn
Sunday, 7:00 A.M. to 6:00 P.M. Free.
(718) 745-3511
By train: D,M to 20 Av
By bus: B1, B6, B82
Farther afield in the Comestiblogosphere:
Schweppes Great Chowder Cook-Off
About two dozen competitors from around the country serve up some 3,000 gallons of chowder as they vie for soup-remacy in Newport, Rhode Island's 29th annual cook-off. Taste and vote for best chowdah, as well as for best clam cake. Over $10,000 in prizes are at stake.
Saturday, 11:00 A.M. to 6:00 P.M.
Admission: $20 (children 12 and under free with an accompanying adult)
Second Annual Food & Wine Festival at National Harbor®
This food fest returns to National Harbor on the Potomac River in our nation's capital. This event celebrates the use of "local, fresh and responsibly sourced ingredients from both land and sea." Admission includes tastings of food, wine, beer, and spirits, as well as access to seminars, chef demonstrations, and workshops. Attendees also receive a souvenir bag and wine glass.
Saturday, 12:00 Noon to 8:00 P.M.
Sunday, 12:00 Noon to 6:00 P.M.
This weeklong event concludes Sunday, 7 June. Fifteen Northampton, Massachusettsrestaurants strut their stuff with three-course menus at the fixed price of $20.09 (excluding taxes, beverages, and gratuities).
Every year, the first Friday in June designates National Doughnut Day. This holiday originated in 1938 with the Chicago Salvation Army to help feed the hungry during the Great Depression, as well as to honor the Salvation Army's female-volunteer "Lassies" of World War I. Often using helmets as cookware, the Lassies prepared thousands of doughnuts for American infantrymen—or doughboys—behind the front lines in France. The first Salvation Army doughnut was served in 1917.
Each of us has a private, nostalgic universe—that combination of sight, sound texture, smell, and taste that informs our memories. I say "private" because it is impossible for another person to share our experience, even simultaneously, let alone after the fact, because our personalities and biases shape what is ultimately stored as memory.
Impossible as it may be to share an exact memory, there is a place that is special enough to conjure what my Comestaccomplice termed a "near-memory experience."
Verona Park in Verona, New Jersey was my boyhood haunt. Nearly every day during the warm months, my grandmother and I made the long walk thither from my house in West Orange. On the occasion of my recent visit to my childhood home, however, we drove. As we followed the familiar old path to my little paradise, my friend marveled at how much ground my little legs were willing—nay, eager—to traverse to reach the park. This alone conveyed the idea that Verona Park had to be very special.
When we arrived, my friend understood how heavenly this place must have been for a small child, with its variety of features to explore: a lovely lake with wetlands, inlets, an island and waterfalls; a playground; a bridge; a fort with a dungeon (or, in grownups' parlance, a bandstand). My friend dug deeply into her five-year-old self to see this place through my young eyes. The emotions from her own nostalgic venues were easily accessible as she immersed herself here. For the rest of our sojourn at Verona Park, she was able to remain in that child's shoes, and experience it as I might have. Contributing to the magic of this experience was that very little had changed in the decades since my childhood.
Of all the things that had not changed, or hadn't much changed, was the concession stand and the superior hot dog that it offers. When I was a lad, the snack bar was situated inside the boathouse. One could eat inside, or enjoy the food outside on the deck overlooking the lake. Today the concession stand faces out to the deck, and the boathouse interior is closed. It was a very busy day, yet there were plenty of spots available at the long picnic tables alongside the water's edge.
Consistent with the crowds was quite a wait for our franks (there's an ample menu, but no reason to order anything else). Finally, they were handed to us across the counter … my Comestaccomplice could hardly contain her disappointment. It took only one whiff of the hot dog's aroma and a glance at its crackly skin to realize that ordering just one had been a serious mistake. Two or three would have been much wiser.
The hot dog's appearance—fine as it was—could only hint at just how good it actually tasted. The grilled skin offers a gratifying snap as one bites into it. The juice inside is just enough to keep the meat moist without it running down one's chin. The flavors meld perfectly: good quality beef is blended with just the right amount of salt and savory spicing, and encased in that snappy skin with its slight charred flavor.
It is rare that as adults we can revisit a favorite childhood experience and even find it still enjoyable. It's truly special when a visit down memory lane is not only pleasant, but measures up to our inner child's expectations. Amazingly, the hot dog was exactly as I remembered it—how truly remarkable after all these years. What a treat it was to share such a delectable old memory.
A number of years ago, my friend Darrin Siegfried of Brooklyn's Red White & Bubbly introduced me to a delightful—albeit potent—cocktail. As he put it, "the people from Lillet came up with it to help promote their apéritif, but they gave it the improbable name of the Lillet-tini. Now, seriously: who is going to order that?" Perhaps it wasn't the best choice of names, but it remains an undeniably delicious drink. It was my late wife's favorite.
The Lillet-tini (Jennifer's drink):
1 part Lillet Blonde (also known as Lillet Blanc)
1 part Stolichnaya Ohranj
Pour over ice in a rocks glass, garnish with an orange slice.
or
Stir over ice, strain into a chilled cocktail glass, garnish with an orange slice.
This Memorial Day weekend coincides with commencement activities at the University of Massachusetts, my alma mater. Not much has changed since the time of my studies there last century. Bars, pubs, and other banal food purveyors continue to dominate Amherst's restaurant scene. How much beer, pizza, and ice cream does the average student require? The recent opening of Miss Saigon, however, changed that somewhat by introducing the Vietnamese bánh mì sandwich to this college town.
Having been spoiled by the marvelous sandwiches of Sunset Park's Ba Xuyên (as well as those of several others in Brooklyn and Manhattan), I was quite disappointed with the mediocrity of Boston's putative best. Thus, I was highly skeptical of what Amherst's Miss Saigon had to offer. That skepticism was quickly dispelled with the first bite, however.
Miss Saigon's version of the bánh mì sandwich is quite tasty. A crusty baguette, pâté schmear, meat, cilantro, julienned carrots and daikon, onions, jalapeños, and
sliced cucumber are collated expertly to produce a successful flavor alliance. Eliminating even one of the foregoing ingredients would result in a lesser sandwich. Though the meat choices—classic pork, BBQ beef, and BBQ chicken—seem somewhat limited, they afford a satisfactory variety. Better to have a few good selections than a lot of bad ones. The $3.95 price represents a relative bargain when compared with Quiznos' $4 bomb it calls the Toasty Torpedo (a foot-long breadstick disguised as a sandwich).
While a bit pricey at $4.50, the milkshakes are delicious. Their lack of sweetness makes them particularly refreshing compared with the average shake. The durian, with its clean taste, is rapidly becoming a favorite. (In an earlier post, I had described the flavor as a combination of egg salad and papaya.) Also available are the increasingly popular pearl boba drinks (bubble tea), priced at $3.
In addition to its bánh mì sandwiches, Miss Saigon offers an extensive selection of Vietnamese dishes. Meals are available in the dining room or for takeout.
To celebrate its millionth post, Foodbuzz threw a bash fit for a millionaire on Tuesday, 12 May 2009, at davidburke townhouse on Manhattan's East Side. Even this old fresser was not prepared for the unending barrage of delights with which I was besieged. Never has my appetite been so helplessly overpowered.
If David Burke, one of this year's inductees into the James Beard Foundation's Who’s Who of Food and Beverage in America and 2009 chef/innovator honoree by the Nation's Restaurant NewsMenuMasters was out to impress a bunch of foodists, he surely succeeded. Chef Sylvain Delpique's variety of gustatory masterpieces—highlighted by mouthwatering hors d'œuvre—provided a culinary version of Plato's Retreat. Needless to say, it was a marvelous evening of merrymaking with my fellow food bloggers. Thanks a million, Foodbuzz!
How's this for openers?
Assorted dumplings
Scallop ceviche
Lobster flan in an eggshell
The Lobster Scramble was one of my favorites
Foie gras
Chicken Satay
The tuna tartare was my overall favorite
The sliders were cooked and seasoned to perfection
The Carving Station:
The salmon was moist, tender, and seasoned perfectly
Medium-rare: Just the way I like it!
Succulent roasted turkey
The sauce complemented the bird well
Prime rib of beef au jus—need I say more?
The Desserts:
Apple tartlets
Butterscotch panna cotta
Chocolate bouchons
Doughnut-like creme-filled beignets—Beighnuts?
The signature Cheesecake Lollipop Tree
Some of the people who made it possible:
David Burke
Sylvain Delpique, chef de cuisine
Ben Dehan, Foodbuzz CEO and founder
Foodbuzzers Ryan Stern, managing editor (left), Devon O'Donell, director of partnerships (right)
davidburke townhouse
133 East 61st Street (between Park & Lexington Avs), East Side, Manhattan
One needn't wait till Cinco de Mayo to enjoy a Margarita—any warm day would be just fine. Contrary to popular belief, the Fifth of May is not Mexico's Independence Day. Rather, it is a somewhat minor, regional holiday—observed mainly in the state of Puebla—commemorating the Mexican army's improbable victory over superior French forces in the 1862 Battle of Puebla. Curiously, the holiday is celebrated chiefly north of the border. (Mexico's actual Independence Day falls on 16 September: dieciséis de septiembre).
Enough about history—how does one make a great Margarita? To begin, it's best to avoid mixes. While they may taste insidiously good, they contain ingredients that sound as though they'd be best avoided. For example, Jose Cuervo's Margarita Mix—admittedly one of the tastiest of the genre—contains "water, high fructose corn syrup and/or sugar, citric acid, natural flavors, sodium citrate, sodium benzoate and potassium sorbate (to preserve flavor), cellulose gum, polysorbate 60, gum Arabic, glycerol Abietate, and FD&C Yellow No. 5."
Instead of mixing with all those chemicals, why not simplify the drink to include just three components? The best Margaritas are made with tequila, triple sec, and fresh lime juice. Using premium ingredients may cost a little more, but the results are worth every penny. Begin with a superior tequila—never settle for anything made with less than 100% blue agave (Mexican law mandates at least 51% agave; no such minimum exists for domestic "tequilas"). Cointreau, a liqueur from Angers (pronounced ahn·ZHAY), France—produced from curaçao oranges—ranks as the crème de la crème of triple sec. Its orange peel flavor is an essential part of a great Margarita. Not to be overlooked is the fruit juice: fresh squeezed limes are a must. Again, a mix tastes all right; fresh lime juice, however, tastes far better.
While optional, the final ingredient is Kosher salt. Use it to salt the rim of the glass, if you so desire. Now that we have all the ingredients, is there anything else we need? Yes! Never underestimate the importance of proper glassware. Genuine Margarita glasses add that little extra appeal to the drink. Avoid water goblets or anything of that ilk.
Ready to mix? Here, then, is my recipe for the perfect Margarita:
The ideal tequila-to-Cointreau ratio is 4:π (or roughly 4:3.1416).
In terms of measure for one drink:
2 ounces 100% blue agave tequila
1½ ounces (+ a drop or 2) Cointreau
Juice of 1 to 1½ limes
Your interpretation of perfection may vary, however. It's easy to adjust the ingredients to your taste.
Shake well, serve with a slice of lime, and enjoy!
A few years ago, a good French bistro like Pomme de Terre would have seemed unthinkable in this part of Ditmas Park, Brooklyn. It still appears somewhat improbable today. For instance, the nearby Newkirk Avenue BMT station has no fewer than two transit cops present at any given time. And while undergoing its transformation from seedy grocery to upscale eatery, this space suffered numerous acts of vandalism. Despite the annoying setbacks, owners Gary Jonas and Allison McDowell (founders of The Farm on Adderley nearby), and Jim Mamary (one of the founders of Patois) persevered and, on 31 March 2008, began serving, in their words, "well-loved food." Since then, I'd always wanted to give this little bistro a try. The recent Dine-In Brooklyn week afforded me a fine opportunity.
Dining weeks allow restaurants to showcase certain dishes at a reduced price. Many restaurateurs use such occasions to put their best food forward. Unfortunately, that was not the case at Pomme de Terre. Their Dine-In Brooklyn menu seemed to target regular customers at the expense of newcomers. Instead of featuring signature dishes, they offered items not found on their regular menu. Perhaps with good reason. After all, this little restaurant appears to have established a constant clientèle. Nevertheless, I'd have preferred something a bit more representative—such as Steak Frites au Poivre—of their typical fare.
Although the bread is ordinaire, Pomme de Terre adds some nice French touches such as homemade butter to accompany it. My meal began with a garlic soup containing a poached egg and topped with a croûton. Perhaps I'm a bit too fond of garlic, but it seemed there just wasn't enough of it in the broth. While this starter was a tasty and pleasant departure from the ordinary, its lack of ail intensity did not yield a favorable comparison with garlic-based concoctions I've enjoyed in Europe.
Garlic Soup
For the main course, chef David Pitula offered two choices: Warm Country Pâté and Chicken Paillard. I opted for the latter, which was served in a goat cheese-basil vinaigrette, topped with grilled eggplant and squash, and accompanied by Yukon-Rosemary potatoes. It was good, possibly even very good. The overly acidic vinaigrette created a slight detraction, but was ameliorated somewhat by the sweetness of the grilled vegetables. Overall, the flavors melded well.
Chicken Paillard
Had the cellar been commensurate with the wine list, I'd have found it quite acceptable. I've come to expect a bistro's carte des vins to comprise few, but well-chosen—possibly esoteric—wines. Unfortunately, it took four tries to find a wine that was actually in stock. I finally settled on a glass of Vin de Savoie "Abymes," whose $9 price would have bought a bottle at a retail shop.
The dining room's décor is consistent with that of bistros one might find in Manhattan. To wit, it has a sort of French feel. Nevertheless, a Gallic bistro experience should transcend French-accented fare and décor. Alas, the service was decidedly un-French. My waiter made no efforts toward any sort of authentic pronunciation whatsoever. (My request for a glass of "van de sahvwah" was met with a "vin da Savoy." Oh well.) While competent and not unfriendly by any means, the glib service was not all that ingratiating. Perhaps I simply expect too much.
Lemongrass Panna Cotta
For dessert, I chose the Lemongrass Panna Cotta with mixed fruit. While the tropical infusion provided a tangy twist, the consistency of the panna cotta lacked the buoyancy I've come to expect. Again, at a purportedly French bistro, I'd have preferred the Gallic version of burnt cream: crème brûlée.
Whatever its minor shortcomings, Pomme de Terre is a welcome addition to a neighborhood that has been bereft of superior dining spots far too long.
Pomme de Terre
1301 Newkirk Avenue (NE corner Argyle Rd), Ditmas Park, Booklyn
The plastic corks are popping and the André Cold Duck is flowing to celebrate Comestiblog's ignominious first anniversary. It is hard to fathom why the weblog of comestibles, eating, drinking, and dubious taste was permitted to endure an entire year—or, for that matter, why it was allowed to begin in the first place! There's really no excuse.
During the past 12 months, the curious ruminations and pointless musings posted on these pages have generated opprobrium far beyond my wildest imagination. Yet, despite all the importunate recommendations to the contrary, I've decided to continue this affront to the blogosphere by prolonging my failed experiment to determine whether it is really possible for Comestiblog to degenerate into even greater ignobility.
Tanoreen, the popular Bay Ridge, Brooklyn restaurant, is moving across Third Avenue to usher in its second decade. Within the next two months, Rawia Bishara's "Middle Eastern cuisine with Mediterranean aromas" will be served in the dining room vacated a year ago by the venerable Mr. Tang (whose take-out branch continues to operate next door.)
For the time being, wistful diners who pass 255 Smith Street, Brooklyn will have to adapt to the patois of Little Italy to enjoy some of their Gallic favorites. In January, Patois, a 1997 pioneer of Smith Street's restaurant row, closed its doors with the promise of reopening across the street in the near future.
Last Wednesday, meanwhile, the Mulberry Street incarnation made its debut. Although the new digs are brighter and cleaner than the recently abandoned ones in Carroll Gardens, they somehow lack that je ne sais quoi. Nevertheless, "the food is the same," I'm reassured.
Incidentally, Patois' prix fixe menu ($9.95 from 11:30 A.M. till 4:00 P.M.; $19.95 after that) represents an extraordinary value.
The future of the Manhattan location is uncertain, however. Will the new Patois will continue to operate should indeed the newer one open at 254 Smith Street? Stay tuned. But in the meantime, bon appétit!
Patois
177 Mulberry Street (near Broome St), Little Italy, Manhattan
(212) 925-8157
By train: 6 to Spring Street; J,M,Z to Bowery By bus: M1, M103, B51
On Thursday, 26 March, sample signature dishes from the World Financial Center's eclectic array of restaurants for $1 to $5. Choices range "from mini-burgers and pork dumplings to silky gelato and crème brûlée." Sounds good.
Toward a verdant goal, Brookfield Properties, the event's sponsor, will use biodegradable or compostable trays and flatware.
EAT: World Financial Center Restaurant Showcase
Winter Garden
220 Vesey Street, Lower Manhattan
Thursday, 26 March 2009, 11:00 A.M. to 2:30 P.M.
"Foodies, the wait is over!" proclaims Marty Markowitz, Brooklyn Borough President. This weekend, the protracted NYC Restaurant Week™ (begun mid-January) passes the torch to Dine-In Brooklyn 2009. From 23 March through 2 April, over 200 Brooklyn eateries will offer three-course lunches or dinners for $23 (excluding taxes, beverages, and gratuities). In addition, some 20 restaurants will serve two meals at the aforementioned fixed price. That's one of the best dining bargains anywhere.
Not sure which restaurants to try? Pick up a free 2008 Zagat Guide to Brooklyn Restaurants—while supplies last—at the Brooklyn Tourism and Visitors Center inside Borough Hall. Last year, I used the occasion of Dine-In Brooklyn to sample Le Petit Marché and to revisit Rose Water. This year? I'll keep you posted …
Brooklyn Tourism and Visitors Center
Borough Hall 179 Joralemon Street, Ground Floor, Downtown Brooklyn
Free food? Sign me up! This weekend starts a little early at F. Martinella on Court Street in Downtown Brooklyn. Although this retro-themed deli opened in November, its coming-out party takes place today through Sunday (19-22 March) in the form of a Grand Open House. Enjoy food samples, cooking demonstrations, entertainment, prizes, and much more. Please visit their website for details.
Everything I tried was delicious, incidentally.
F. Martinella
119 Court Street (NE corner State St), Downtown Brooklyn Thursday through Sunday, 10:00 A.M. to 4:00 P.M.
Fortune cookies, those little curved biscuits containing printed slips of pseudo-Sino wisdom, are typically served together with the check at Chinese restaurants around the world—except, however, in China. If they're not Chinese, whence do these cookies hail? Their true origins may be somewhat surprising.
Recent evidence traces the fortune cookie's ancestry back to Kyoto, Japan, where small, family-run bakeries have produced similarly shaped crackers—replete with fortunes—since the 19th century. The first American fortune cookies were undoubtedly served in California—exactly where and when is still a matter of debate, however. The most common belief is that Makoto Hagiwara, a Japanese immigrant, served America's first fortune cookie about a hundred years ago in the Japanese Tea Garden he designed for San Francisco's Golden Gate Park.
Regardless of its history, the fortune cookie has always managed to elicit a smile or two. On 30 March 2005, its recommendations even led to an unprecedented number of Powerball winners. Since this represents the second straight month in which the 13th falls on a Friday, I thought a little good fortune would be a possible antidote to paraskavedekatriaphobia.
Please click the links below for some fortune cookie amusement:
It could take an out-of-towner two passes down New Haven's Crown Street to find the improbably situated Louis' Lunch: smack in the middle of a parking lot, rather than among the restaurant cohort lining the opposite side of the street. The ancient, gnome-scaled brick edifice's location is, however, a testament to the burger joint's devoted following. City redevelopment plans had called for razing this diminutive landmark (a former tannery) to make way for a high-rise building. But in 1975, following years of wrangling between the owner and the city, public outcry saved the venerable luncheonette at the last moment. Dodging the wrecking ball by a matter of hours, the home of the hamburger was deracinated from its foundation at 202 George Street and moved to its present location—its fourth—about a block away.
It would be difficult to find a story more steeped in tradition than that of the Lassen family and the birth of the hamburger as we know it. The legend begins in 1895 with a lunch wagon on Meadow Street—near Union Station—from which Louis Lassen served steak sandwiches to factory workers. Not wanting to waste the trimmings, he ground and broiled the leftover meat. Initially, he served it as a patty, on a platter, together with a slice of onion and home fries. One day, however, a customer rushed in and requested a fast meal to go. Lassen responded by sandwiching one of his broiled patties between two slices of white bread, and with that, according to local lore, served the first hamburger. While this may be an interesting origins story, there must be another reason that Louis' Lunch, now in its fourth generation of family operation, is still in business after more than a century.
Indeed. Why didn't the denizens of the Elm City allow this family-run establishment to go the way of so many others during urban renewal? The answer is found between those two thin slices of white toast: a generous, top-quality ground beef patty, cooked in much the same way it was over a hundred years ago. Add onion and tomato ("the works"), cheese spread, or any combination thereof, if you must. But ultimately, it's all about the beef. Louis' Lunch takes this premise to an extreme by offering no other accompaniments or condiments (with the exception of salt and pepper packets, upon request). Please don't even think of asking for ketchup. The Lassens believe that such additions are unnecessary, and serve only to cover up mistakes. The enduring ban on condiments also honors the legacy of the founder. The point is, if they are going through the trouble of cutting and grinding their own fresh meat daily, you should taste the beef! (To those unfamiliar with Louis' credo, various signage offers a guide to their dogmatic service protocol.)
Returning to how deeply in tradition the food is steeped, Jeff Lassen rightly points out that his hamburgers owe part of their flavor to the original 1898 apparatus in which they're cooked. The gas-powered stoves from Bridge, Beach & Company afford a healthful side benefit, so to speak, by broiling the patties vertically to reduce excess grease. Over the years, the grills initiated by Jeff's great grandfather have been seasoned with the essence of burgers prepared for Charles Lindbergh, Artie Shaw, Bing Crosby, Rudy Vallee, and countless others. That's a quality for which there is no shortcut; it can only be earned with time.
The toaster tells a similar tale, nearly as old: it has been preparing the "bun"—two slices of Pepperidge Farm white bread—since 1929. As we waited for our burgers, we watched these antiques in action, marveling at how they continue to operate flawlessly after all these years—a testament to superior workmanship and caring ownership.
The verdict: the hamburger is good, honest food. Its flavor is fresh, clean, and lean. With onion and tomato options, Louis was astute in serving his mission—the additions complement the beef without masking anything. We found that a touch of salt was necessary to bring out all the succulence this fine burger has to offer. In an age of industrial fast food, this is (reasonably) fast food that tastes like real food. Simple, satisfying.
For the lunch crowd, the menu consists of exactly two choices: a hamburger or cheeseburger for $5. On Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evenings, however, the menu often expands to include a hot dog and a steak sandwich.
If the bread is not enough, you can augment your carbs with potato salad, a wide selection of good-quality chips, and one or two homemade pie offerings. In addition, Louis' Lunch offers an impressive assortment of soft drinks, many of which are local and off-beat. But you will never, ever, enjoy a Coke here, because, as Jeff says, "we can carry a grudge." Jeff's grandfather Ervin Lassen (Louis' son) severed relations with Coca Cola during the Great Depression. Purportedly, an unscrupulous distributor decided that Louis' share of the soft drink could fetch a higher price on the black market. The Pepsi salesman, on the other hand, was eager to deal legitimately—his product was welcomed in and remains on the menu some 70 years later.
Nostalgia is one thing, but Louis' Lunch is sensitive to the current climate as well. Mindful of the economy, Jeff has held his prices down since 2006. Within the past year, he's even enlarged the burger by nearly an ounce as a way of giving his customers a little extra during tough times. (Though he doesn't specifically measure the patties, Jeff approximates the weight of each to be about six ounces.)
Fourth generation: Jeff Lassen, C.S.K. ("Crown Street King")
Decent people, decent food. That's a recipe worth saving.
Louis' Lunch
261-263 Crown Street (between College & High Sts) New Haven, CT 06511-6611 (map)
After dinner, we return to the French Quarter and make our way up Bourbon Street. When the sun sets, the area bustles with the effusive din of partyers determined to make merry. We turn right onto Saint Peter and enter the carriageway of a 1791 building that once housed the first Spanish theatre in the United States. This is Pat O'Brien's, home of the world-famous Hurricane—a fruity rum concoction that originated here in the early 1940s. Albeit there's a wait for a table on the open-air Patio, it's well worth it.
Though I'm not particularly fond of sweet cocktails, I do make an exception with Pat O's Hurricane. We delight in the aura of the Patio Bar's flaming fire fountain as we sip a New Orleans original under the night sky.
"Now I know why they call it a Hurricane: the room was spinning when I got back to my hotel!" declared Brian, a colleague of mine from Canada, who thus described his baptism of fire here. In truth, the cocktail isn't all that potent, but it is insidious—it's probably advisable to stop at three. The real derivation of its name, incidentally, comes from the shape of the glass—similar to that of a hurricane lamp—in which the drink is served. (Customers receive their logo glass as a souvenir as they leave.)
The upshot: follow the advice of Pat O'Brien's motto and Have Fun!
Pat O'Brien's
718 Saint Peter Street (between Bourbon & Royal Sts) New Orleans, LA 70116-3119 (map)
With so much to explore in New Orleans, there are countless ways in which to work up an appetite. One particularly pleasant divertissement is a ride on the historic St. Charles Streetcar line to the Garden District. Magnificent mansions of various architectural styles afford a delightful setting for an afternoon constitutional. When evening arrives, we return to the Central Business District and prepare ourselves for an authentic Cajun dinner.
We pass Emeril's and follow Julia Street four blocks to our destination at the corner of Convention Center Boulevard. A group of colleagues introduced me to Mulate's 14 years ago while we were in the Big Easy to attend a convention—I've been a fan of "the original Cajun restaurant" ever since. From the street, we can hear the cavernous hall resonating les bon temps. The party is already in full swing as we enter the circa 1885 Italianate warehouse. A Cajun band is playing, people are dancing, and everyone appears to be having a good time.
In terms of food, Mulate's sets the standard for Cajun cooking. From the gumbo to the alligator to the catfish to the crawfish to the jambalaya, this is the real deal. We ordered the Catfish Mulate's—a seasoned fillet, lightly floured, grilled, and topped with crawfish étouffée. Jambalaya, sautéed vegetables, and a twice-baked potato filled out the remainder of the plate. Beer was the perfect libation to accompany the food, music, and checkered napery. With everything having been prepared to perfection, this remains one of the tastiest Cajun meals I can recall.
Catfish Mulate's
Celebrating its nineteenth year in New Orleans, Mulate's continues its tradition of blending authentic Cajun food, music, and culture with reasonable prices. Though I prefer the shack-like ambiance of the original Mulate's in Breaux Bridge, the large space on Julia Street has its own charms—to say nothing of its easier accessibility to conventioneers.
Mulate's Restaurant
201 Julia Street (NW corner Convention Center Blvd) New Orleans, LA 70130-1622 (map)
There's nothing like a stroll through the French Quarter to help burn a few breakfast calories. As we wend our way through the charming streets, we pause at various landmarks, museums, and shops. After a visit to the French Market, it's time for lunch.
Would having a sandwich be too banal in this epicurean city? Yes, if it were an ordinary ham-and-cheese or something of that sort. But I have an extraordinary kind in mind—a Muffuletta (pronounced "moof·fuh·LET·tah," often abbreviated, simply, to "muff"). It's made with a fresh, round loaf of Italian bread, onto which generous quantities of imported salami, ham, cheese, mortadella, and special olive salad are layered, and served at room temperature. (Don't even think of asking to have it warmed!) This is one big, tasty sandwich that easily feeds two people. Half a sandwich at midday is ample—especially if one is still planning to have dinner.
As we cross Decatur Street and enter Central Grocery, we take a step backward through time. The old-fashioned Italian-American emporium that proclaims itself to be the "home of the original Muffuletta" gives the impression of having forgone any sort of redecoration since its founding in 1906. Apparently, there's no need to change—this place draws visitors from all corners of the globe. No trip to New Orleans is complete without a stop here. The Muffuletta's putative place of origin is also where the sandwich reaches its acme of perfection. Purportedly, it was created here by Salvatore Lupo the same year he founded the grocery. Though time seems to have stood still at Central Grocery, its most famous product remains a timeless classic.
Central Grocery Co.
923 Decatur Street (between N. Peters & St. Philip Sts) New Orleans, LA 70116-3307 (map)
Breakfast at Brennan's is something everyone should try at least once. Situated in the French Quarter, this lovely dining spot has been a Crescent City phenomenon since 1946. Owen Edward Brennan's elegant culinary namesake evokes images of New Orleans French aristocrats sipping wine and enjoying leisurely breakfasts on the patio nestled among exotic plants and redolent magnolia blossoms, cooled by Palmetto fans.
Eggs Sardou (foreground) and Eggs Hussarde
We began our aristocratic breakfast with an "eye opener" called Fleur de Lis—Champagne with Grand Marnier and Lillet Blanc. (One might think of it as orange juice with a kick.) With appetites whetted, we were ready for our main course. My Comestaccomplice ordered the Eggs Sardou (poached eggs on artichoke bottoms in a bed of creamed spinach and covered with Hollandaise sauce) while I chose the signature Eggs Hussarde (poached eggs atop Holland rusks, Canadian Bacon, and Marchand de Vin sauce, topped with Hollandaise sauce). Ahhh … If only all eggs were this good!
Crêpes Fitzgerald (aflame, left) and Bananas Foster (right)
To finish on a sweet note, we ordered two Brennan's originals: the Crêpes Fitzgerald (crêpes filled with cream cheese and sour cream, topped with strawberries flambéed with marischino liqueur) and the signature Bananas Foster (bananas sautéed in butter, brown sugar, cinnamon, and banana liqueur, flambéed in rum, and served over vanilla ice cream).
What a delicious way to start the day!
Brennan's
417 Royal Street (between Conti & St. Louis Sts) New Orleans, LA 70130-2103 (map)
The carnival festival that portends the coming of lent is winding down. With celebrations culminating today, Mardi Gras (literally, "Fat Tuesday," the eve of Ash Wednesday), I thought I'd share a few of my favorite New Orleans memories with you.
Jackson Square (Place d'Armes) in the French Quarter
Comestiblab: The word carnival comes from the Italian carnevale, an alteration of the older carnelevare (from carne, flesh, meat + levare, to remove (from Latin levare, to raise)). Thus, the literal translation of carnival is, "removal of meat."
Champagne and chocolate are not necessarily ideal partners, but they're not bad together—especially if both are free. Join Le Dû's Wines from 3:00 P.M. till 6:00 P.M. for a Valentine's Day tasting of Georges Gardet Cuvée Saint Flavy, Henriot Brut Souverain, and Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin 2002, as well as a sampling of the exquisite chocolates of Jacques Torres—all gratis. Not a bad way to set the mood …
Le Dû's Wines
600 Washington Street (between Morton & Leroy Sts), West Village, Manhattan 3:00 P.M. to 6:00 P.M. Free.
Since its American debut in New York, Fauchon had topped our list of favorite chocolatiers. To enter the elegant Park Avenue salon de thé was to step into a little corner of Paris; to sample their ethereal wares was to taste a little piece of heaven. Sadly, our special seller of sublime sweets shuttered its Manhattan outpost last year. While Fauchon's closing may have left a cavity in the Big Apple, other fine purveyors around town have reduced the void with their superb chocolate fillings.
The Paris-based La Maison du Chocolat was our chocolatier of choice until the arrival of Fauchon. The House of Chocolate's exquisitely crafted cacao creations—including the Dark Ganache with Two Vanillas (made with Bourbon vanilla from Madagascar and aromatic beans from Tahiti) and the masterly Dark Ganache Porcelana (a Maison du Chocolat exclusive, made with the Venezuelan Porcelana bean)—are available in various Stitches of LoveValentine's Day collections. Prices for the assortments range from $15 (for a box of four) to $85 (for a box of 39).
While I enjoy the large selection at La Maison du Chocolat's premier boutique on the Upper East Side, I prefer the quiet and convenience of the new location on Wall Street.
Should you fancy French chocolates with a Brooklyn twist, you could look to our own (somewhat) local hero, Jacques Torres. Originally from Bandol, France (a small, seaside resort town in the south of Provence), the self-proclaimed Mr. Chocolate established his first factory along with a diminutive retail shop in D.U.M.B.O. (the lowland between the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges—a former paper-box manufacturing area once known as Gairville). His December, 2000 opening came at a time when that deserted part of Brooklyn had little else to recommend it. My late wife and I were among Jacques Torres' first customers; I remain a devotee.
Jacques Torres' spaces are more approachable and his prices are more accessible than those of the upscale Parisian-styled boutiques. And Mr. Chocolate seems to convey a greater sense of fun. Valentine's Day treats like The Spanker ($12; "it's sure to leave a mark!"), Body Paint, Love Tonic, and Body Butter ($9 apiece; "don't make us give you instructions…") demonstrate a sort of playfulness not readily apparent at La Maison du Chocolat or the erstwhile Fauchon. Of course, Jacques also offers various artisanal collections ranging from the seven-piece Heart Truffle Box ($10.50) to the 50-piece Champagne Kisses ($57.50) as well as the large, 34-piece heart-shaped box of bonbons ($49). I opted to create my own assortment of 25 quasi-Valentine's Day chocolates ($33, please see below). Chocolate was never so much fun!
My personal selection. (The hexagonal Liquid Caramel was my late wife's favorite.)
In addition to expanding his original D.U.M.B.O. space, Jacques Torres has opened shops on Hudson Street and on Amsterdam Avenue in Manhattan. The newest store (and the first outside New York) is scheduled to open next month in Traverse City, Michigan.
Latest reports indicate that the peanut butter-borne salmonella
outbreak is responsible for 575 illnesses and possibly eight deaths in
43 states. As a result, over 1,550 products have been recalled
nationwide.
My visits to Tampa, Florida customarily begin and end at Landry's at Rocky Point. The restaurant's proximity to Tampa International Airport and its lovely waterfront setting make it a convenient and relaxing dining spot—indoors or alfresco—before or after a flight.
As its name implies, Landry's Seafood House specializes in sea fare—with a bayou flair. While dishes featuring catfish, grouper, red snapper, redfish, mahi-mahi, and gulf shrimp showcase the Gulf of Mexico's bounty, toppings such as Pontchartrain (creamy white wine sauce with mushrooms and jumbo lump crabmeat), crawfish étouffée (a tan roux with sautéed crawfish tails), and Acadiana (crawfish tails and corn pico de gallo in an Andouille cream sauce) add a savory Louisiana touch. Aside from its seafood offerings, the menu throws a bone to landlubbers in the form of a few beef and fowl dishes. Salads, pastas, burgers, and sandwiches are also available.
Though the wine list is unexceptional, it does offer a reasonable number of selections by the glass. On my last visit, however, I forwent my usual libation in favor of Landry's signature drink: the 21-ounce Mai Tai ($7.99), a cocktail made with light and dark rums, Crème de Noyaux (an almond-flavored liqueur made from fruit pits), pineapple juice, and sweet-and-sour mix. Its tropical flavors were quite refreshing.
Fried Oysters with steak fries and onion strings
Starters I've sampled have tended to be somewhat oily and insipid. The Fried Calamari ($8.99 lunch; $9.99 dinner) is a typical example: it's greasy, limp, and considerably less tasty than similar preparations at other restaurants. I've found the soups to be a better choice. Landry's New England Clam Chowder ($4.99 lunch; $5.99/$7.99 dinner), for instance, is quite delectable (though its subtle smoky flavor diminishes its authenticity slightly).
All main courses include Landry's Famous Salad Bowl—a satisfying, unlimited serving of fresh greens, tossed tableside. (The creamy, golden Italian dressing, incidentally, is a superior alternative to the standard vinaigrette.) A tasty loaf of hot, crunchy garlic bread accompanies the salad. (Please note that within the past year, garlic bread is served upon request only. Be sure to issue your request!)
For my main course, I usually order a broiled, fresh fish. I particularly enjoy the firm, moist Gulf Snapper ($18.99 lunch; $21.99 dinner) blackened ($1 additionally). The Cajun-style seasoning complements the snapper's mild, nutty flavor perfectly—thus rendering the small cup of dipping sauce superfluous. The rich and flavorful vegetable risotto is a well-chosen accompaniment. I can also recommend the Catfish Fillets ($9.99 lunch; $16.99 dinner), another of my favorites.
Blackened Gulf Snapper with vegetable risotto
While I've never tried Landry's Bananas Foster (their signature dessert), I recommend the Key Lime Pie ($5.99)—a pleasing combination of sweetness and lime. (My choice is based on a bifurcated desire to preserve my fond memories of Brennan's musaceous original and to enjoy a native citrus pie whose authentic confection is scarce outside Florida.)
Although Landry's has served as my welcoming gateway to the Tampa Bay area for some time, its overall atmosphere has suffered a decline since the departure of general manager Howard Cohen (the last to have his name inscribed on the front door) a couple of years ago. Most notably, the reception and service now seem to lack their erstwhile vitality and spirit. The food quality remains rather good, but the mood has waned somewhat. I sincerely hope Landry's management will turn the corner soon.
Landry's Seafood House
7616 West Courtney Campbell Causeway (SR 60) Tampa, FL 33607-1432 (map)
The free, passport-sized Zagat guide—From Tailgating to Touchdowns—that was thrust
into the hands of all who arrived at Tampa International Airport over the past several days contains an underwhelming five pages of reviews. It's hard to understand how—or why, for that matter—the list was compiled. Of the 20 restaurants named, more than half belong to a chain and several are situated more than an hour's drive from Tampa. Trendy nightlife areas, such as Ybor City and Channelside, were left unrepresented. (Incredibly, Columbia, Florida's oldest restaurant, received nary a mention.) Local flavor seems to have been kept to a minimum. One would think Zagat could have done a little better than this.
Ever try an Arabian Nights or Earl Grey Tea hot chocolate? Baker-and-owner Maury Rubin tempts us with these and other daily flavors throughout February at his 17th Annual City Bakery Hot Chocolate Festival. Other creative con-cocoa-tions include the ever-popular Banana Peel, the Sunken Treasure, the Passion Fruit Cream, the Hot Chocolate A-Go Go, and, on Valentine's Day, the Love Potion. Since City Bakery hasn't a license to serve alcohol, it'll be interesting to taste the Beer and Bourbon cocoas. The festival culminates with a surprise finale on the 28th.
The City Bakery
3 West 18th Street (near Fifth Av), Flatiron District, Manhattan
Selecting the right wine for your Super Bowl party can be (and perhaps should be) a Bitch. This South Aussie red from R Wines is made from 100% Grenache—the dominant variety of Southern Rhône wines such as Châteauneuf-du-Pape and Gigondas. Winemakers Chris Ringland and Lisa Wetherell use grapes from the Barossa Valley to produce a tasty, affordable (about $10) wine that offers hints of plum, berries, and spice. It's unoaked and, at 15.0% ABV, rather hefty. And it goes great with pizza!
It's probably wiser, however, to serve this wine at a Super Bowl party
than to present it to your wife or girlfriend on Valentine's Day.
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