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Eaten, Barely Blogged: Grandma Edition

Because I can be a horrible person, in my 17 years of NYC life I’ve only returned home for a visit maybe four times. Periodically a family member or two will make up the difference and venture here from Oregon. That was the case this weekend and the impetus for social media grousing over the many where-to-dine-with-out-of-town-parents listicles that assume all elders are wealthier than their adult children and can’t wait to treat them to Daniel.

This was an all-Queens extravaganza motivated by the fact that my mom and her mom have experienced Manhattan and Brooklyn many times by now–and more importantly were airbnb’ing four blocks from my apartment in Jackson Heights. If I took away anything from this rare visit it might be that there’s a genetic possibility that between now and senior citizen-hood I could morph from a crank into a ham.

pollos mario spread

Chicken, rice, beans, and salad at Pollos a la Brasa Mario happened before I realized standard food blog photos weren’t going to cut it. Grandma wanted to be in the picture. There were mixed feelings on first experiences with arepas while hearts of palm passed muster.

jahn's waffle

I’ve wanted to go to the last Jahn’s on earth ever since moving here six months ago but wouldn’t drag friends out for the experience and going solo never felt right. The liver and onions, meatloaf, and white zinfandel will still have to wait. There’s no arguing with a fat waffle hiding a trove of bacon beneath, though.

grandma jahn's breakfast

“The fruit is in a can,” grandma was warned when ordering french toast with fruit. Who would have it any other way? Breakfast inspired the first action shot. Life, bowls of cherries and all that.

 

grandma eating takoyaki

Octopus balls became a hot topic after showing a photo of takoyaki made by a friend of a friend for Easter, so I knew that while in Flushing I’d have to flout convention and stop by the only Japanese stand, Mojoilla Fresh, at the New World Mall.

grandma tacuba

If you wrap up a Museum of the Moving Image visit too early for The Astor Room’s 5pm happy hour , newish Tacuba across the street is great for a very strong margarita (or two). I probably wouldn’t suggest pitching in with the guacamole-making service to everyone.

astor room bacon

There are limits to being game. No one could be convinced to eat $1 oysters at The Astor Room, but the candied bacon that’s freely available at the bar was a hit.

grandma astor room

I almost thought I was going to get a new grandpa out of our very sweet bartender.

grandma jackson diner

I regret not squeezing in any momos or thenthuk considering Himalayan is now more relevant than Indian in the neighborhood. Buffets are crowd-pleasers, though, and Jackson Diner is now a classic in its own way.

grandma jahn's

Jahn’s was irresistible. So much so that sundaes were had an hour before dinner. Now I need to convince seven others to go in on the original large format meal, the $51.95 Kitchen Sink.

grandma chivito d'oro

Only a heartless monster could dislike Chivito d’Oro, the lovely wood-paneled Uruguayan steakhouse that’s second-closest to my apartment. This is the first time I didn’t order a full-blown parrillada and ventured into the pasta section (primavera with canned mushrooms that elicited no comment a la Jahn’s). Even though I try to avoid starch during the day, I am eating the leftover pasta for lunch as I type because I abhor food waste with the passion of someone on a fixed income.

grandma kitchen 79

Kitchen 79 has a good $7.50 lunch special (grandma had a simple green salad and pineapple fried rice with chicken) and now serves beer.

Not pictured: Empanadas, pasteles, and mini cakes from La Gran Uruguaya or random pizza ordered from La Pequena Taste of Italy on Seamless for delivery that didn’t arrive and took me over an hour to realize I’d accidentally clicked pick-up (too much happy hour).

Now That’s a Sizzle Reel

This promotional Sizzler video from 1991 has been making the rounds the past few days (even the New York Post has gotten into the act) and has ended up on my timeline enough that it needs a dedicated blog post even if only to say: yes, here it is. I think this is called bearing witness.

What nerve is this creation, coated in a naturally occurring Adult Swim sensibility, touching/soothing/stimulating? It’s the naked 1991-ness at work.

I can’t say this was my 1991. It probably wasn’t anyone’s except for the sea captain, lip-licker, brick phone-gabber and the couple toasting with a carafe of Chardonnay (or was that White Zinfandel?).  I appreciate how it captures those cusp years where the softer pastels and country quilt fonts of the 1980s have yet to give way to the dressed-down yet more exxxtreme ’90s. (That tweener quality is one of the reasons I believe The Americans is so good.) You don’t know what this still newish decade is going to be yet. This tame Sizzler commercial feels more ’90s, which probably means that is from 2002.

We’re smack in the middle of the 2010s, and I still don’t know what to make of them. All I know is that I would like to be the go to person for all things Sizzler. Please think of me in the future for any Sizzler-related needs.

Counting down the days til we get an oral history of the making of the 1991 Sizzler promo…

To Think it All Began With a Burrito Bowl

I had never heard of Clover (then again, I just learned about Hinge this year) but it’s clearly the most amazing dating app of all time. Users only go on first dates to chain restaurants, if the company’s recently released data (and subsequent mocking) is to be taken at face value.

clover infographicThese daters also appear to either be children or very lame adults since more than half of men (51%) prefer restaurants and nearly an equal number of of women (52%) like meeting at coffee shops when everyone knows you’re supposed to drink until you cry on first dates, not eat Southwestern or Tex-Mex egg rolls (though technically you could do both at Cheesecake Factory or Chili’s). Only 16 of the top 30 locations exist in NYC anyway, so it’s all kind of irrelevant.

Since you asked, I’ve only been on four dates in the past year–all firsts and lasts–and I now blame it on the choice of location: Baz Bagels, Niagara, Simit Sarayi, Bushwick Country Club (oh, and someplace to be determined between Jackson Heights and Forest Hills tonight which I may just bail on). Things would be very different if that tri-level Times Square Olive Garden that Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt only succeeded in making seem more appealing played a larger role in meeting strangers.

I will marry the first person who suggests a date at Sizzler.

Shovel Time: Burma Noodle Bar

twoshovelUnlike in the Bay Area, Burmese food has never been a thing in NYC. There was Village Mingala, one of the first restaurants I ever experienced in the city over 20 years ago, that short-lived Burmese Cafe in Jackson Heights, a few food festivals here and there (in fact, there’s a Burmese new year celebration this Sunday) and possession of part of the menu at Crazy Crab, the spot for Vietnamese seafood boils in Flushing–oh, and the Porchetta pop-up that’s actually happening tonight and that I forget about because it’s not immediately logical.

burma noodle mohinga

And because I don’t pay attention to Smorgasburg or pop-ups (not even In-N-Out taunting the Philippines or other Asian cities) I had no idea Burma Noodle Bar existed until I attended a Sunday triple birthday party at The Drink and xeroxed menus started getting handed out as afternoon segued into evening and the scent of spices began wafting from an indoor takeout window.

I’m not sure that the menu is always the same–the one they do for Sycamore in Ditmas Park is slightly different–but it looks like there’s always a noodle soup, and a few fried tidbits like curried beef potato croquettes, onion fritters and samusa a.k.a. potato samosas.

$6 for a small serving of mohinga (large is $3 more) thick rice noodles and catfish in a moderately hot broth described as chowder? You could do far worse for bar food in Williamsburg. Despite my Sunday experience, the website states that this is a Monday evening event.

Burma Noodle Bar at The Drink * 228 Manhattan Ave., Brooklyn, NY