Posts from the ‘Brooklyn’ Category

May 9

Amarin

It's funny because Amarin was the first restaurant I ate at when I moved to
NYC (almost exactly) five years ago. It's all a blur, I didn't know what I
was doing, and barely knew the girls I was staying with. It was hot, humid,
I was overdressed (not formal, too many layers) and nervous, the cab got
lost on the way to the apt. and the driver called everyone "Poppy" so I
figured that must be a Brooklyn thing though I've only heard it maybe once
or twice since, and think it's actually spelled Papi. We ordered
take out and two of us got a chicken thing that came as a whole chicken leg.
I was fine with that but the other person was upset that there was skin on
it. I sensed trouble from the get go. What possible friendship could be
forged with someone who's scared of chicken skin? I only stayed with them
for about a month, but they must've liked Amarin because we went in person a
second time (I later discovered that's very Williamsburg, like people only
know a handful of places and only frequent those places in this peculiar
provincial way). This time the skin-shunner ordered the $9.95 fish entre,
which I thought was pretty ostentatious. She'd just started a new, fancy
internet job at Sidewalk.com and was making what I thought at the time was
big bucks (amusingly, I've yet to make that much). It's hard to remember a
time when $9.95 seemed outrageous for dinner, but that's the beauty of
pointless remembrances.

Anyway, I hadn't been back since '98. In fact, I didn't even know where
it was other than in Greenpoint on a main street. It's weird because I
frequent Williamsburg and have friends in Greenpoint, but like a good
visitor I never go over, past McCarren Park. It was only recently when James
was driving around Greenpoint, scoping the neighborhood for a potential move
that I re-discovered Amarin. The food's nothing to write home about, but
it's likeable, nonetheless. They employ oddball touches like serving mashed
potatoes, and putting carrots, zucchini, and bean sprouts where I don't
think they belong, but it's OK by me. I felt comforted like I'd come full
circle, back to where I'd started my NYC food journey. Everybody likes
closure, right? I would've ordered the skin-covered chicken, but now I'm
watching my weight like a true pathetic New Yorker. Jeez, at least I'm
eating carbs. Five years makes a world of difference, no?

Amarin * 617 Manhattan Ave., Brooklyn, NY

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Apr 25

Chickenbone Cafe

Can you separate food from experience? I should've been scared off when I saw the sign on the front door indicating a private party would be taking place from 7-9:30pm. But as it was 10:30, and we were told it would be only a 20 min. wait, I figured we'd be fine.

The place was shoulder-to-shoulder packed, we left, came back, no one had budged from the tables and no one was eating; only drinking. It was a bar scene, and ultimately we ended up waiting around an hour to be seated (one of those situations where you've waited so long, you feel more annoyed by leaving). It was a birthday party, the crowd was drunk and rude, and it was clearly the first time in Brooklyn for many of the revelers (one had rented a Zip Car, especially for the occasion–I only know this because of the loudmouth factor in the room), and it showed. Apparently the crew that had set up shop, thought it was a bar that happened to serve food, and had no plans to vacate any of their spots. When we were finally seated, a drunk girl practically sat on my lap a number of times and people begin throwing wads of who-knows-what back and forth through the open window next to me. An inebriated frat-type randomly tried picking a fight twice with James, "If you bump into me one more time, I'll…." and yelled at us when we left.

By the time we ordered food I just wanted to get the hell out of there. In fact, I can barely remember the food. I did the banh mi, which was good enough, though I would have been fine with a Chinatown rendition. I also had some fennel, citrus-y, prosciutto, parmesan salad, which I can barely remember. James had a pork sandwich that he insisted tasted like tuna fish salad.

It's rare that I leave a restaurant feeling wholly irritated. One could chalk it up to a bad night, and I probably would if this place wasn't so incredibly overhyped. This "Brooklyn global cuisine" they proffer just doesn't cut it.

Chickenbone Café * 177 S. Fourth, Brooklyn, NY

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Apr 18

Taqueria La Campirena

I so rarely venture up (I say up because it's up a hill and the street
numbers are increase that direction, but geographically it's south so I
guess that makes it down, not up) into the 40s and 50s, but on a boring,
lonely Friday night I filled my time with laundry at the shiny 24-hour place
and porky tacos, al pastor and carnitas. There are worse ways to spend an
evening, I suppose.

Taqueria La Campirena * 4010 Fifth Ave., Brooklyn, NY

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Feb 22

La Maison du Couscous

Couscous, tagines, and bastilla, oh my. There's almost nothing finer than
that sweet/savory flavor combo you get from meat and sugar. Meat pies beat
all. This place has it all over Moustache (hmm…they're not Moroccan, are
they? You know what I mean). The staff is incredibly friendly and the food
is affordable, even to folks like me. If La Maison du Couscous was in a
hipper neighborhood than Bay Ridge, it'd be a crowded mess for sure.

LaMaison du
Couscous * 484 77th St., Brooklyn,NY

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Jan 4

DiFara’s

1/2

OK, this is like the holy grail of pizza, so I can't explain my chronic
reluctance to give it a try. People go nuts for Sripraphai as NYC's ultimate
Thai, and I've never had a problem giving into the mania — but pizza — I
don't know. On my final carbohydrate-eating weekend, it seemed like as good
a time as any to pay a visit. The thing with places like this is the
routine, like you're not a regular, and you know there's going to be a
procedure or unspoken rules. I mean, this is NYC. I was aware that
everything is handmade on the spot and that it's manned by an older
gentleman. This makes for a long wait, and everyone else seemed to be
ordering plain slices. I wanted an artichoke and an eggplant, while James
wanted pepperoni. This seemed to cause trauma, at least on our end. James
became convinced he was going to make an entire pie with each topping and
out of confusion we'd be charged for three whole pizzas. I didn't believe
this, but was confused on how they seem to make an entire pie for one unique
slice. See, I didn't know the procedure. We could've made it more efficient
by ordering the same toppings. I got nervous we weren't going to get pizza
at all because like 20 minutes had passed, but it all worked out in the end.
And the pizza was pretty damn good. A nice crispy crust, fresh mozzarella,
parmesan grated on the spot and vegetables sauted to order. I understand
the time involved, but it made me nervous because that's the way I am.
(1/4/03)

This time we thought we were being smart by calling ahead for a pizza
with eggplant and pepperoni, but I don't know that it makes any difference,
or that you're even able to do that. When we showed up 45 minutes later and
the pizza hadn't even been started. What can you do? Don't good things come
to those who wait? Maybe in the rest of the country, but that adage seems to
go against the grain of most New Yorkers. Once again, a very good pizza
resulted. Everything will be fine once I develop my patience building
skills. (2/15/03)

DiFara's * 1424 Avenue J, Brooklyn, NY

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Oct 26

Los Pollitos

I used to get chicken salad for lunch from the Park Slope branch, but that's
all I'd ever tried until I visited the Sunset Park location while
researching a story on places to drink while watching the NY Marathon. Odd
topic? I suppose — drinking at 11 a.m. on a Sunday is a bit much, even for
me. I opted for a fresh-squeezed lemonade instead, which they kindly sweeten
to your liking. And tried a torta even though they're about the rotisserie
chicken. The food is perfectly acceptable, but what really gets me are their
comically portrayed chicken mascots, wide-eyed, wings flapping, strutting in
big red clodhoppers.

Los Pollitos * 5911 Fourth Ave., Brooklyn, NY

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Oct 24

Tacu Tacu

Half Japanese, I've heard of. Half Vietnamese, I'm not so sure about. In
that crazy, oh-so-eclectic Williamsburg tradition, they've created a
Peruvian/Vietnamese restaurant with two separate menus under the same roof.
I guess it works for White Castle/Church's and Dunkin Donuts/Baskin Robbins,
right? Some family members want burgers, others want fried chicken. James
got paella (is that Peruvian?) and I got the whole fried red snapper in a
spicy sweet and sour sauce, which wouldn't be likely at most other
restaurants. So, for variety's sake, it's an amusing concept, though I'd
feel better about eating Peruvian at a Peruvian place and Vietnamese at,
yes, you know, a Vietnamese restaurant.

TacuTacu/Maison Saigon * 134-136 N. Sixth St., Brooklyn,NY

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Oct 3

Karam

I was on a crazy Middle Eastern kick that only lasted this week, but it was
good while it lasted. Nothing beats a shawarma sandwich after a hard day
shopping at the Bay Ridge Century 21 (yet before going to the gym down the
street — there's nothing like doing crunches with a stomach full of lamb).
I've barely delved beyond basics, not because I'm scared of brain or tongue
or anything, but because NYC-style ordering at cramped, busy places like
this frazzle me and I end up blurting out the things I know. I must learn to
slow down and study a menu, no matter how spazzed out this city makes me.

Karam * 8519 Fourth Ave., Brooklyn, NY

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Sep 1

Crepe Place

It was a wedding rehearsal dinner. What more need I say? We were offered a
choice of three crepes, including the amusing Alexander the Crepe (the Crepe
Gatsby, was unfortunately not on our list, though it's on the regular menu).
Oh boy, who could resist. All the 25+ people at the dinner received full
crepes while James and I only got half portions. If I wasn't so tipsy, I
would've been really pissed. Obviously two other people did half orders and
didn't bother to claim them. Were these health-conscious Californians trying
to tell us gluttonous New Yorkers something?

The Crepe Place * 1134 Soquel Ave., Santa Cruz,CA

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Aug 2

Coco Roco

I used to occasionally order a really amazing chicken salad from them at
lunch. And now that I think about it, it'd take an awfully long time to show
up. Maybe they're good, but it was hard to tell, what with waiting an hour
for my entree. The pisco sour I started with was very nice, the mixed
seafood ceviche with the little corn nuts wasn't bad…and then the waiting
began. I can't even remember what I ordered. A snapper with fried yucca, I
think. Who cared at that point. With so many restaurants in the
neighborhood, and Peruvian being such a hot item recently, I doubt I'll be
back soon.

CocoRoco * 392 Fifth Ave., Brooklyn, NY

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