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Jan 9

Commercial Fiction

Sap alert: there are commercials I hate because they're really freaking horrible like the Chrysler Pacifica hot pregnant moms out on the town or the Crumbelievable Kraft cheese chunks with the bastardized EMF song, but then there are commercials I hate because they so transparently tug at your heart strings even though you know better. Those Zales (I mean, c'mon, Zales?) ads where the guy is getting up the nerve to propose (though they currently only seem to be showing the one where a guy gives a woman earrings) with David Bowie's "Pressure" playing is one such nuisance. The current contender is that Cingular commercial (this is a longer version than what is running on TV) where the guy keeps checking his phone hoping that the girl/woman he just met is going to call him later like she said she would. As if this scenario has any basis in reality. I don't know any guys (well, not guy guys) who get all moony and fixated like this. It's an invention developed to target female customers (or are men meant to identify with this unsure protagonist?). I give this fictional twosome two months tops. I refuse to be tricked and wouldn't buy a cell phone anyway, but whenever this ad comes on it hypnotizes me and induces senseless wistfulness. I don't want to have feelings about fake scenarios on television. Enough sap. I feel much better about all the drunk babies in the news lately. Well, toddler and kindergartener, but close enough. You always remember your first Applebee's Long Island ice tea.

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Jan 9

Day of Rest

This place is best avoided on Sunday evenings. Check out lines creep into the aisles (and this is a larger than average Brooklyn store), legless people in wheelchairs create impromptu obstacle courses and people in line think nothing of asking you to watch their stuff while taking their sweet time going back for items or asking to use your Pathmark card for discounts (I don't have one and James seeing how it's done here, i.e. slow, very slow, stepping out of line at the expense of other's time the norm, decided to go out to the car and look for his card despite being one customer away from the cashier. By the time he made it back in I hadn't even budged).

The produce is nothing to shout about on a good day, but Sundays it's slim pickings. The apples were all brown, the red peppers shriveled and basil awol altogether. I'm hoping that the supposedly soon-to-open Red Hook Fairway will brighten the neighborhood shopping experience a bit. It isn't possible to get much grimmer.

Pathmark * 25 12th St, Brooklyn, NY

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Jan 8

El Huipil

1/2 *I hear that they've closed. I was actually thinking about going this weekend, too. (1/15/07)

I must admit that I wasn't terribly impressed. But I can be forgiving since this desolate pocket of Red Hook isn't a major haul for me. We had driven over to Baked to see if they had their version of red velvet cake available (no cigar) and happened to drive by El Huipil while scouting the area for Fairway and Ikea development.

I was hoping they'd have pozole or something like it (I've given up on menudo in NYC) since it was the weekend, but they only serve the soup on Saturdays. The menu is fairly paltry. I tried for a pierna de puerco torta, but they didn't have the pork, so I went with a pedestrian pollo asada instead. It was ok, not likely their strength. James got tacos dorados, which are like flautas. A couple came in after us and asked for corn, but were informed that there was only one ear left.

I'm not sure if they were down to the dregs because it was Sunday or if they just don't stock everything and hope people will order the greatest hits. I like to feel like I'm surrounded by plenty, spoiled for choice. I hate going into a restaurant and just knowing before ordering that you'll likely be thwarted in obtaining your first choice(s).

Considering the bleak Mexican food landscape in South Brooklyn (particularly when the Red Hook soccer fields are closed for the season) El Huipil is ok. But in the grand scheme of things it's a little ho hum.

El Huipil * 116A Sullivan St., Brooklyn, NY

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Jan 7

DuMont Burger

I don't know why I spent the past two weekends traipsing around Williamsburg (I've tried to avoid the area for the past few years. I had a couple of innocent beers at Zablozki's and was totally scared by the riff raff, all entourage minus the star teeming out of SEA onto N. 6th St. Where do these baseball capped phantoms come from? It doesn't seem worth the travel effort from New Jersey or Long Island. Or from Bay Ridge or Bayside, for that matter) but at least this Saturday I managed to keep my food and drink in my stomach and out of public spaces.

Always the pessimist, I didn't have much faith that DuMont Burger, which somehow became the out-of-the-blue focus of two of the four members I was with, would still be open after 1am, but we were in luck.

The room was comfortably sparse, woody and counter and stool style. I'm more of a booth gal, but eating at the bar felt more personal like our burgers were being crafted just for us (well, technically they were since after the first ten minutes we were the lone diners).

We ordered various permutations, a veggie burger, a mini and two regular burgers, fries and a salad chosen for sides. I can only speak for my own, a medium-rare gruyere topped burger with fries. Having a few drinks under your belt always makes food a little tastier, but I truly think this meal was top notch. The meat was juicy, if not more rare than medium (I like a pink patty, but sticklers should probably order a notch more done than usual) and slightly sweet, perhaps from Worcestershire sauce. I don't think the sweetness of the brioche bun alone would've caused this. They come thick, and with the addition of tomato slice, onion rounds, sweet pickles and lettuce leaf it's a tad too tall. I guess the baby-mouthed could opt for the mini, but I wanted my full 9 ounces, just squished down slightly.

The parsley flecked fries pretty were right on, neither too thick or thin, nor too soggy or crispy. I've never been able to order a side salad when fried potatoes are an option. Though as of January 9 I'm supposed to be eating healthier, I'm not sure how DuMont Burger might fit into my proposed betterment plan. Moderation, right?

DuMont Burger * 314 Bedford Ave., Brooklyn, NY

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Jan 7

Two Floors of Fun

I've steered clear of New York & Company for quite some time. I don't want to relapse with my store credit card usage and I've been trying to wean myself from shimmer and acrylic blends. But I couldn't stay away from their dazzling new midtown location since it's only three blocks from my new job.

The store is a classy, shiny two-floor joint with an escalator, Fischerspooner on the airwaves and no trademark clearance section. What Manhattan will do to a sleazy (not Rainbow sleazy, but Eva Longoria [their new spokeswoman] sleazy. Like their recent press release says "New York & Company offers an extensive selection of sexy fashions at great value.") suburban chain.

But perhaps to make up for the lack of disheveled $9.99 racks, they were having a sale on just about everything. I ended up with three sweaters and two shirts for $66, not bad. Though as usual, once I actually assessed my purchases in the safety of my own home (I never try anything on before buying), two of the five just didn't work. One sweater was just too sparkly and garish and the blouse had belled sleeves which weren't initially obvious, egads.

New York and Company * 715 Lexington Ave., New York, NY

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