Blue Hill v. Allen & Delancey

A&D has all the pretensions of the LES neighborhood it resides in. It tries to fly under the radar with a windowless, dimly lit interior of rustic details (read: rickety uncomfortable chairs) while still sweeping its Brit-styled snobbery all around. To wit, the beautiful yet dumb wait staff is not yet sure who to fawn over and how to do it. The food is a culinary fashion victim in the current taste for super-foodie things: fois gras with abandon (and not just a little, the whole goose it seems); tasteless sea scallops the size of albino hockey pucks and massive slice of fatty, chunky rabbit terrine served with a wee slice of toast. These appetizers were very large, which justified their exorbitant prices at least (but then were too big to leave sufficient room for the expensive entrée coming next). The main plates were quite small in contrast, which was baffling. They came and went without much anything remarkable (a bad thing, when you're paying $35 plus.) In short the meal was completely and utterly blah, veering towards bad.

In stark contrast is Blue Hill. On Monday night the West Village organic-seasonal resto was hopping. Tables were filled with a wide variety of people: older academics, a mother-and-son discussing a recently departed husband, a pair of pretty young German professionals and some rock-and-roll types squirreled into the back corner. We started with the fennel soup served with sweet Maine crab chunks and candied lemon ($10) and followed with fresh poached farm egg served over wild mushrooms and herb broth ($14). Freshness and delicacy reigns here; even hands in the kitchen render the dishes simple and succulent. My entrée of grilled hamachi with crispy green cabbage and mustard ($34) was fantastic; the fish was unbelievably fresh; it was delicately creamy and matched thrillingly with the surrounding mustard and mussel juice. Steamed cheesecake for dessert and wild mint tea completed the experience. Service was attentive and smiling, and it was all-in-all a class act at a top restaurant.

Here's the bottom line: Blue Hill is the real deal and A&D is a gauche knockoff.

Where: Allen & Delancey, 115 Allen Street, 212.253.5400
Blue Hill, 75 Washington Place, 212-539-1776

Ali's Kebab Cafe

Ali is a friend of a friend. The Alexandria native is also a local Steinway Ave. legend, which was cemented into fact by a recent appearance on "No Reservations" (after many mentions on food blogs and local magazines.) His Kebab Cafe anchors Astoria's Egypt row of hookah and kebab houses. Yesterday, he made us a special dinner for Easter: we started with pita and various dips, on to duck liver on lentils, marinated sardines, poached egg on braised lamb cheeks, sweetbreads with peppers, and then the piece de resistance: a spring lamb roasted with squash, potatoes, Jerusalem artichokes, wild celery and herbs and spices. We finished with with a struffoli, from a nearby Italian bakery, which we brought ourselves. It was amazing; we were the only ones on the restaurant and Ali outdid himself with his amazing hospitality and muscular love of life and eating.

Where: 25-12 Steinway St., Queens, NY, 718-728-9858

Spicy Mina

Axel/Ben (the other belly in this blog) is a devoted reader of Chowhound and, as such, has been spearheading our Queens eating adventures. Last night: Spicy Mina, which is just a few blocks away from the Thai destination, Sriphiphai, where we went several weeks ago. Mina's is traditional Bangladeshi food and according to the message boards has an uneven reputation. Yet our meal last night was fantastic. Bangladeshi cuisine is similar to Indian food, but more lemongrass and ginger and less gravy. We ordered samosa chat ($5) to start, followed by fantastic chicken soup for two ($5) - make sure to generously add the fresh chopped green chilies in vinegar for heat - and then two mains: shok ponir, $9.95 (aka palak paneer or saag paneer and in English: spinach)and shrimp dopeaja, $15.95 and a couple of garlic nans. The total came to $46 before tip. The entrees were great; the shok panir was made with whole fresh spinach leaves, easy on the paneer, and dotted with red chilies. It was extremely fresh and unbelievably tasty. The shrimp was also full of flavor, with a spicy ginger sauce, and was perfect wrapped in a little nan. My only regret that there was not more sauce to mop up. For the most part the restaurant was quiet and the service was languid. No beer served, but they do have fresh lassi. We highly recommend trekking to Mina's!







Where: 64-23 Broadway, Woodside, Queens, NY, (718) 205-2340

Ed's Lobster Bar

There has been some recent excitement in my family. My father, who is semi-retired, has taken on geneology with gusto. In his research he found his mother's maternal grandmother, it appears, came from Russia and was a physician (and had a surname of Melowitz). In remarkable powers of extrapolation, we concluded she must have been a Jewess. Which confirms what I have always known deep down in my heart, that I am a Jewish! This is great news to me. No matter that I'm like 1/116 Jewish, I am still claiming it.

"I always knew it," said Ben (nee Axel). "Welcome! We're the best!"

Rebecca said, "it explains everything."

So in the spirit of my newly-discovered bi-furcated multi-religious heritage, I did what anyone would do. I went to see a holocaust movie with Ben. We saw The Counterfeiters (excellent) at the Angelika. However, lest I forget my goy-ish roots, we promptly skuttled ourselves over to Ed's Lobster Bar on Layfayette Street afterwards for a decidely non-Hebrew dinner of lobster rolls and raw oysters. The decor is a Martha Stewart fantasy: Hampton's white picket fence with sea-faring and preppy accents,; it has a long counter for dining and a hand full of tables in the back. We didn't imbibe, but the bar looked substantial and full of goodies, including fresh muddled (virgin) limeade. I went for the lobster pot pie ($18) that was something of a diet buster with full cream, sherry and nuggets of the sea beast with potatoes and carrots. Ben chomped down on what looked to be a supreme lobster roll (and his fries were excellent.) We slurped down a few raw oysters to top it all off.

Noodle Bar

Last night upon leaving the IFC, after a screening of Blindsight - a doc about blind Tibetan children who climb a mountain (yes, I cried all over myself) - I declared I wanted noodles. Then magically Noodle Bar appeared on Carmine Street, looking about as third-worldly as you can in West Village. Perfecto. We walked in and took one of the three tables-for-two (counter space is king) and ordered some vitals. We started with the excellent chicken roti ($3.5), and crab rangoon ($5), before moving on to five-spiced fish and chip ($9.5) and roast duck broth noodles ($10). In short: everything was great and as it should be except for the fish 'n chips. Ugg. Five-spices? They were soggy, tasteless over-fried lumps of veiny fish. But the roast duck noodles saved me. Spicy, salty, duck-fatty, egg-noodley, enough-veg-to-not-feel-guilty.  The place is great, and what the nabe needed (and I like to think a eff-off to over-hyped Momofuku schlop over on the east side of town.) My only complaint is that it closed promptly at 11 p.m. and IMHO, noodles are great late-night food. Stay open later Noodle Bar!

Where: 26 Carmine Street, West Village, 212-524-6800

ED NOTE: This photo is shamelessly stolen from the ChowHound web site.

Sripraphai

The best Thai food in New York City, as per Bruni, Chowhound and the rest not only met, but exceeded expectations. Ordered: Beef tendon soup (dark), roast duck salad, beef with spicy sauce, southern style beef curry (pictured), BBQ chicken with papaya salad, drunken noodle with chicken, mushroom salad with calamari. It was a feast (it came to $82 total) like no other. I cannot recommend it enough. Photos before, during and after!

Where: 64-13 39th Avenue, Woodside, NY, 718-899-9599
How to get the there: 7 train to 61st Street/Roosevelt Ave., Queens

Winter Feasting

I don't care what people say about this so-called 'mild winter'. It's cold out there. Really cold. And that makes me hibernate and eat like a sad, cooped-up person. To wit, today I ate: A banana, some yogurt, two bowls of Rice Crispies, four cups of coffee, Tasty Bite Spinach Dal (in a foil bag), eight wasa crackers. And so on. I just couldn't do it. Go out there. Not after last night's resto debacle. Graffiti, a literal hole in the wall in the East Village, was a sore disappointment. Trying hard to be an Indian/Spanish fusion wine bar meets tapas, it was just a little too funky. Bright spots included the Green Mango Paneer ($7) and the hamburger sliders ($15); low points were anchovy and seaweed pizza ($12) and chili shrimp ($15). However, the desserts were primo.

Other recent excursions:

Hearth: Loved, loved, loved it. I would go here for the Californicated Tuscan cuisine again and again. They have a tasty assortment of non-alcholic bevs, including vintage grape juice.

Extra Virgin: Friends in from out of town, and it did exactly what we needed: suitably impressive dinner, with hip atmosphere on a show-off block in the West Village. A staple.

Caviar Russe: For power brokers in midtown and us on V-Day. Skip the menu, go straight for the Osteria and don't look back (or at the prices.)

Brown Cafe: Cute as a button seasonal, organic fare in the East Broadway nabe; poster child for "Stuff White People Like".

Franny's Pizza: Mouth-gasm. Did I say that? But much like a hot Russian hooker, I didn't want to pay as much as it actually cost. It was still good. Too good. Give it to me!

Mr.Chow's: To my surprise, it was not over-rated. I loved it and its terrible 80s decor. There was some tender buffalo thing and succulent shrimp, and fish dumplings. Go for it. Drop the cash. (No menu, but it's $65 each and then some.)

Grand Sichuan: The cumin beef was crazy good and different. And the Sichuan Dumplings fiery hot. Cheap, surly and tasty.