On Axel's recommendation I went to try Crispo, a cavernous basement level Italian place on 14th Street (next to, I should mention El Rey, which has the best margarita-drinking patio ever). Crispo has nothing to jinx or wow you in terms of space or decor. It's your basic restaurant and the menu has many many choices.
The place to stay on the menu is the small plates - I made the mistake of ordering the orchiette with rabe and sausage ($20). It was mediocre, too oily and was an enormous, hip-widening, mid-America portion that seemed unecessary. We had pickled beets and crostini to start, which were just fine, and then "Artichoke alla romana" which was serveed with almonds, mint and fontina. This was quite tasty. The Boyfriend went for the Veal with lemon and artichokes, served with potato croquettes - which was tasty, though lacked anything special. Overall, it was fine. A B+ you might even say. (Boyfriend says this is generous rating; or rather my rating scale changes from place to place.) The kind of place that serves its central location very well or would be a good in a group situation. We ordered the hazelnut praline for dessert and it was terrible - there's no need. Stick to the antipasti and small plates and you'll have a very nice meal.
Where: 240 W. 14th Street
Friday, November 30, 2007
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Bettola
It's the plight of the local; the place you go over and over again but you kind of forget about until the moment you know you need something reliable and good and simple. It's only taken me six years to figure it out: Bettola is that place for me.
Went with the Ex last night for our monthly chew and chat (yes, we are still friends). And we always go here or across the street to Swagat Indian. The menu, laquered on a board, never ever changes - six pasta dishes, a selection of wood-stove pizzas and some meat plates. They do always have daily specials and I always order that. Last night it was flat pasta with wild mushrooms and goat cheese ($15). You can just never go wrong here - the environment is warm and inviting, with the heat from the pizza oven keeping it cozy. In the summer they open to a full people-watching gallery with sidewalk seating. The waitresses are always from some Eastern block country, barely understandable and gorgeous. Anyway. It's my local. Go find yours now and write me back and tell me about it.
Where: 412 Amsterdam Ave., 212-787-1660
Went with the Ex last night for our monthly chew and chat (yes, we are still friends). And we always go here or across the street to Swagat Indian. The menu, laquered on a board, never ever changes - six pasta dishes, a selection of wood-stove pizzas and some meat plates. They do always have daily specials and I always order that. Last night it was flat pasta with wild mushrooms and goat cheese ($15). You can just never go wrong here - the environment is warm and inviting, with the heat from the pizza oven keeping it cozy. In the summer they open to a full people-watching gallery with sidewalk seating. The waitresses are always from some Eastern block country, barely understandable and gorgeous. Anyway. It's my local. Go find yours now and write me back and tell me about it.
Where: 412 Amsterdam Ave., 212-787-1660
Bun
Given my mediocre experience with Bao 111, I was eager to see if I could have a better Vietnamese experience with Bao 111 founders Michael Bao Huynh and his wife Thao Nguyen at their newest venture, Bun, in Soho. We trotted over for lunch on Tuesday around 1 p.m. and it was quite empty. The space is pretty and modern and displayed the open kitchen to lovely effect.
We ordered the shrimp and Berkshire pork summer roll ($6), which is really too small for sharing (I was desirous of BOTH diminutive rolls). Then I ordered Pho Ga ($11), in a ginger and anise broth and Axel F. went for the Bun Fish ($11). The Pho was the winner - the broth flavorful, but light, and with a squirt from the lime wedge and a dollop of chili sauce it was one tasty meal. It's a success - simple and to the point, as good food should be!
Where: 143 Grand St., nr. Lafayette St.; 212-431-7999
We ordered the shrimp and Berkshire pork summer roll ($6), which is really too small for sharing (I was desirous of BOTH diminutive rolls). Then I ordered Pho Ga ($11), in a ginger and anise broth and Axel F. went for the Bun Fish ($11). The Pho was the winner - the broth flavorful, but light, and with a squirt from the lime wedge and a dollop of chili sauce it was one tasty meal. It's a success - simple and to the point, as good food should be!
Where: 143 Grand St., nr. Lafayette St.; 212-431-7999
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Momofuku Noodle Bar
First of all, I'll Momo your Fuku. You got that, asshole?
Alright, onto the food. I had been to Momofuku Ssam bar twice, opting for the place's signature "Asian burrito" both times. With the white hot hype surrounding it, I had expected something transcendent, and had come away mildly disappointed. The concept was unique, but the actual good only good--nothing special. I pronounced the Momofuku mini-empire a casualty of the New York hype machine (as in, it couldn't possibly be as good as you expect). Still, if you read websites like Eater, it's hard to avoid a lot of talk about "genius" David Chang--and with the original Momofuku Noodle Bar moving down the block to more spacious digs on First Avenue, and dinner with a friend who lives in the area, I decided to give Chang another shot.
This time was different. My coeditor of this blog, Catherine Niu (don't you know it's the new hotness to misspell things intentionally?), had warned me to stay away from the ramen noodles, which are the centerpiece of Momofuku's menu. "Try the small plates," she counseled. "The Shins will change your life." Oh wait, that was Natalie Portman in Garden State. But anyway, it turned out to be sage advice. My friend and I split three dishes: octopus salad, roast pork buns, and veal sweetbreads. The roast pork buns were probably the best of the lot, though the portion was a bit small for what they charged. The octopus in the salad was succulent and the dressing (or whatever it was) even succulenter. When I ordered the sweetbreads, I knew I was getting something exotic, though I didn't realize it was pancreas until I looked it up when I got home. (Isn't "sweetbreads" an odd name for something like pancreas? When i hear "sweetbreads," I think of down-home Southern cooking, not veal viscera.) The sweetbreads came out looking like something you might get at a Cape Cod seafood shack--deep fried golden nuggets in a basket. They were pretty damn good, though after eating most of the portion myself, I got a little sick of them and couldn't finish all the breads.
I also enjoyed the atmosphere of the place--bustling tables and an open kitchen where you can watch Chang's minions cook your victuals. Long story short: I've finally come around to Momofuku, and will now Momo your Fuku on demand!
Momofuku--163 First Avenue (212) 475-7899
Alright, onto the food. I had been to Momofuku Ssam bar twice, opting for the place's signature "Asian burrito" both times. With the white hot hype surrounding it, I had expected something transcendent, and had come away mildly disappointed. The concept was unique, but the actual good only good--nothing special. I pronounced the Momofuku mini-empire a casualty of the New York hype machine (as in, it couldn't possibly be as good as you expect). Still, if you read websites like Eater, it's hard to avoid a lot of talk about "genius" David Chang--and with the original Momofuku Noodle Bar moving down the block to more spacious digs on First Avenue, and dinner with a friend who lives in the area, I decided to give Chang another shot.
This time was different. My coeditor of this blog, Catherine Niu (don't you know it's the new hotness to misspell things intentionally?), had warned me to stay away from the ramen noodles, which are the centerpiece of Momofuku's menu. "Try the small plates," she counseled. "The Shins will change your life." Oh wait, that was Natalie Portman in Garden State. But anyway, it turned out to be sage advice. My friend and I split three dishes: octopus salad, roast pork buns, and veal sweetbreads. The roast pork buns were probably the best of the lot, though the portion was a bit small for what they charged. The octopus in the salad was succulent and the dressing (or whatever it was) even succulenter. When I ordered the sweetbreads, I knew I was getting something exotic, though I didn't realize it was pancreas until I looked it up when I got home. (Isn't "sweetbreads" an odd name for something like pancreas? When i hear "sweetbreads," I think of down-home Southern cooking, not veal viscera.) The sweetbreads came out looking like something you might get at a Cape Cod seafood shack--deep fried golden nuggets in a basket. They were pretty damn good, though after eating most of the portion myself, I got a little sick of them and couldn't finish all the breads.
I also enjoyed the atmosphere of the place--bustling tables and an open kitchen where you can watch Chang's minions cook your victuals. Long story short: I've finally come around to Momofuku, and will now Momo your Fuku on demand!
Momofuku--163 First Avenue (212) 475-7899
Friday, November 16, 2007
Hecho in Dumbo
Boo. Coulda, shoulda, woulda. All things pointed to greatness here – amazing, tranquilly lit loft space in the hip heart of Dumbo and perfectly located for post-gallery noshing. But then they were just kind of stupid: to wit, the Pellegrino arrived pre-poured over a large amount of ice in a high-ball. Sparkling on ice is yuck. Point 2: I was told I could mix and match the tacos and burritas for the $8 trio plate. I ordered three different ones for my plate, and instead received three whole different orders, which the waiter insisted I had asked for. I looked at him as if to say “Do I look like an obese pig who would order three entrees all for myself?” His waifesh self seemed to "Yes, maybe you might." Aghhh! We had to argue to get him to take two of the orders off the bill. The food was fine, delicious even, despite the over-salt of annoyance. I can say this: check it out at your own peril.
Where: DUMBO General Store, 111 Front St., Brooklyn, NY 11201, 718-855-5288
Where: DUMBO General Store, 111 Front St., Brooklyn, NY 11201, 718-855-5288
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
9 ways to eat
I have been lazy. So so lazy. You might even say "getting fat and lazy" when you find out that my lack of reviews has nothing at all to do with a lack of eating at restaurants. I have been eating plenty and will turn this exercise of laziness into an exercise in tight writing. The 50-word reviews (next week, I will write haikus).
Indochine
Their man-candy waitstaff serves beautifully plated and sumptious Vietnamese fusion that does not feel trite. The Seafood Bouillbase and Grilled Prawns were excellent, if pricey; and their extensive and creative list of mocktails was appreciated. Overall, a pleasant surprise despite an overwhelming amount of Euro-trash and Upper East Side frat-folk.
Sapphire
I thought I liked this UWS Indian staple until I looked around the dining room – it is packed with middle-class white people, nary a desi to be found. And Boyfriend, who grew up on curry and daal, declared it "Spiceless!" And though the waiter sprinted us through the meal, my mid-western tastebuds secretly thought it was ok.
Balthazar
It's best for breakfast, unless you go late for the seafood tower and champagne. Like I even need to put in a review. If you have not had the pleasure of breaking fast there: arrive around 8:30- 9 a.m., get your bowl of cappuccino and a croissant and preen. Just do that, and you'll be happy.
Da Silvano
http://www.dasilvano.com/
Speaking of preening, I was feeling especially buoyant on a recent Sunday. "Da Silvano?" I queried to Boyfriend as we tromped the brunch trail. Soon after, nestled on the heated terrace, we feasted on crostini, steamed artichoke ($24!), pumpkin ravioli and ossobuco while watching euro-trash navigate cocaine hangovers and display themselves. Love it.
Cafe Gray
http://www.cafegray.com/
Gorgeous Columbus Circle views, open kitchen, cougars galore. The steak tartar with katjup tasted fancy-pants McDonald's; the poussin was nice but unremarkable and the key lime tart could have come from Miro, the ubiquitous downtown coffee shop. Service failed to clear our finished dinner plates for 23 minutes after the last fork had been settled, and failed to ask for our coffee order. Verdict: tourist trap.
Bao 111
http://bao111.com
I wanted to like this place, I really did. But the Crabmeat Noodle Soup was a muddy mess with so much salt it burned my mouth. It makes me sad when food is completely inedible and I want to cry with disappointment. Other savory nibbles, such as the Truffled Tuna Spring Roll and Lollipop Chicken did sort of make up for that. Maybe I'll try again.
Degustation
http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/degustation/
Despite Eater's deathwatch, or because of it, this was one of the most engaging and rewarding dining experiences in recent weeks. The dark and intimate setting – sexytime! – and amazing menu was a true restaurant experience in every way. To wit: you select 3-4 small plates, exquisitely rendered, with brilliant Spanish reds playing back-up, to get wonderfully soused.
Momofuku Noodle Bar
http://www.momofuku.com/
I love me some pork products, and finally got my own oink on at this place I keep hearing so damn much about. The noodles were eh but really why noodles, when you can have hot, braised pork rind dripping in hoisin squeezed into a steamed bun? Or roasted brussel sprouts with kimchee puree and bacon? Enough said.
Ronnybrook Milk Bar
http://www.ronnybrookmilkbar.com/
It would be easy to get Shanghai-d by all the choices at Chelsea Market, but keep your head on and beeline to Ronnybrook. I exalted my inner farmgirl and lapped up the eggs, milk and cheese like a crack head from Wisconsin: egg salad, egg-in-a-whole, cream in my coffee, a couple cookies. And everything is under $8.
Indochine
Their man-candy waitstaff serves beautifully plated and sumptious Vietnamese fusion that does not feel trite. The Seafood Bouillbase and Grilled Prawns were excellent, if pricey; and their extensive and creative list of mocktails was appreciated. Overall, a pleasant surprise despite an overwhelming amount of Euro-trash and Upper East Side frat-folk.
Sapphire
I thought I liked this UWS Indian staple until I looked around the dining room – it is packed with middle-class white people, nary a desi to be found. And Boyfriend, who grew up on curry and daal, declared it "Spiceless!" And though the waiter sprinted us through the meal, my mid-western tastebuds secretly thought it was ok.
Balthazar
It's best for breakfast, unless you go late for the seafood tower and champagne. Like I even need to put in a review. If you have not had the pleasure of breaking fast there: arrive around 8:30- 9 a.m., get your bowl of cappuccino and a croissant and preen. Just do that, and you'll be happy.
Da Silvano
http://www.dasilvano.com/
Speaking of preening, I was feeling especially buoyant on a recent Sunday. "Da Silvano?" I queried to Boyfriend as we tromped the brunch trail. Soon after, nestled on the heated terrace, we feasted on crostini, steamed artichoke ($24!), pumpkin ravioli and ossobuco while watching euro-trash navigate cocaine hangovers and display themselves. Love it.
Cafe Gray
http://www.cafegray.com/
Gorgeous Columbus Circle views, open kitchen, cougars galore. The steak tartar with katjup tasted fancy-pants McDonald's; the poussin was nice but unremarkable and the key lime tart could have come from Miro, the ubiquitous downtown coffee shop. Service failed to clear our finished dinner plates for 23 minutes after the last fork had been settled, and failed to ask for our coffee order. Verdict: tourist trap.
Bao 111
http://bao111.com
I wanted to like this place, I really did. But the Crabmeat Noodle Soup was a muddy mess with so much salt it burned my mouth. It makes me sad when food is completely inedible and I want to cry with disappointment. Other savory nibbles, such as the Truffled Tuna Spring Roll and Lollipop Chicken did sort of make up for that. Maybe I'll try again.
Degustation
http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/degustation/
Despite Eater's deathwatch, or because of it, this was one of the most engaging and rewarding dining experiences in recent weeks. The dark and intimate setting – sexytime! – and amazing menu was a true restaurant experience in every way. To wit: you select 3-4 small plates, exquisitely rendered, with brilliant Spanish reds playing back-up, to get wonderfully soused.
Momofuku Noodle Bar
http://www.momofuku.com/
I love me some pork products, and finally got my own oink on at this place I keep hearing so damn much about. The noodles were eh but really why noodles, when you can have hot, braised pork rind dripping in hoisin squeezed into a steamed bun? Or roasted brussel sprouts with kimchee puree and bacon? Enough said.
Ronnybrook Milk Bar
http://www.ronnybrookmilkbar.com/
It would be easy to get Shanghai-d by all the choices at Chelsea Market, but keep your head on and beeline to Ronnybrook. I exalted my inner farmgirl and lapped up the eggs, milk and cheese like a crack head from Wisconsin: egg salad, egg-in-a-whole, cream in my coffee, a couple cookies. And everything is under $8.
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