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Posts from the ‘American’ Category

Skylark Diner

It used to be Bergen County for New Jersey excursions, but lately the communities along the Middlesex and Union county borders have won me over. Edison is as suburban as anything but there’s a substantial Indian and Chinese community that makes food shopping and dining more interesting while hitting the biggies like Costco, Target and Trader Joe’s.

Skylark_interior_2We were looking for a Sally Beauty Supply so I could pick up some bottles of professional hair color (it’s cheaper than buying consumer boxed dyes and I was specifically looking for the Miss Clairol Gray Busters line, which you can’t get at your corner Duane Reade) and a few blocks before our intended address we impulsively pulled into a mini mall, lured by the A&W/Long John Silver’s combo store advertised on the sign. I then remembered that we’d eaten Indian food in this strip before, ages ago before I even knew what Edison was. There was still an Indian place, but the name has since changed from Delhi Gardens to Hyderabadi something-or-another.

Skylark_bruschettaStill hungry, we noticed a gleaming, tricked out modern diner across the street. Skylark. I’d actually heard about this relatively new eatery, but didn’t realize this was where it was located. It was worth a try. I might’ve called it an upscale diner but that was before I saw the last episode of Top Chef. There were no tempura vegetables & mozzarella with cornichon aioli, but they did have crispy shrimp tempura with spicy citrus aioli.

They also ask if you want bottled or tap water, which is a bit too much. However, the emphasis on wine and cocktails didn’t put me off. It was too early for a martini, but all of the many color coded iterations using scary things like Midori and chocolate sauce were only $7. Maybe I’m just Manhattan-ized but that seemed like a good deal (minus the Razzmatazz liqueur).

Skylark_tasso_eggrollI was a little freaked out when they brought complimentary bruschetta to the table. It just seemed like an odd thing, and initially I was concerned that we’d gotten someone else’s starter. To be honest I’ve never understood the appeal of chopped tomatoes on bread. Let me clarify, pa amb tomaquet is surprisingly good in its simplicity and I’m sure “real” bruschetta with garden grown produce is similarly bewitching. But supermarket tomatoes in the middle of winter not so much. But I like free, so no complaints.

I really loosened up with the appetizer. Melon is my enemy but I was willing to try the chicken and tasso ham egg rolls with a jicama watermelon slaw and bourbon bbq sauce. The crunchy pink cubes didn’t really bother me as much as I’d feared and it was a tasty, albeit slightly overwrought dish.

Skylark_monte_cristoEven though it was 4pm, we hadn’t eaten anything yet so it was a toss-up between breakfast and lunch food. I chose the best of both worlds, my old Portland fixation, the monte cristo. As I’ve recently pointed out, it’s treated more like a breakfast food in NYC. I was pleased to see that this specimen was listed with other sandwiches and came with fries. But it did come with a little metal pitcher of warmed maple syrup. In the NW you’d just get jelly. This version came on cinnamon-swirled french toast. Classy. The sliced turkey was on the dry side but as a whole the sandwich was satisfying. I ate it with a knife and fork because it seemed wrong to drizzle or dip into syrup when eating with your hands. The fries were also better than decent and came covered in a spice blend that’s more typical of curly fries (why are curly fries frequently spiced, anyway?).

The one thing I’ll say for New Jersey is that they keep it nice and Jersey for you. Yes, they were pumping in the dreaded ‘80s music but it was all rock: Bon Jovi, Journey and more. At one point it struck me how jarring a random dirty guitar solo stood out amidst the retro-contemporary décor. Around 5pm, it started getting dark and smooth jazz came on. I got scared for a second like it was now officially moody dinner time, but then the power chords came back on after the brief interlude. Phew.

Skylark Diner * Rt. 1 N. & Wooding Ave., Edison, NJ

More: route 1

Hash House a Go Go

1/2 Ok, I wanted to get all of my Las Vegas food ventures written up by the new year, but here’s a straggler that I don’t feel I can just shit can because it’s 2007. I never start with a clean slate until the second week of a fresh year anyway.

Despite the kitschy name, the food at Hash House a Go Go isn’t silly. I only tried breakfast but their M.O. appeared to be creative country style standards, served in enormous portions. We chose this place after getting scared by buffet crowds. I figured that any place requiring a car to get to (and good enough for Martha Stewart) would be wiser.

Hash_house It’s practically like three buffet trips on a single plate anyway. The dish looks bizarrely flattened and smaller in 2D—the thing took up like half the table. My Andy’s Sage Fried Chicken from the “Indiana Favorites” section, did contain a chicken wing but that wasn’t really the bulk of the dish. It came sitting on a giant pile of bacon mashed studded mashed potatoes that also had strips on top for good measure, and was matched with two eggs, a massive biscuit, numerous tomato slices and the edges of the plate were glazed in a maple reduction. Oh, and there was a watermelon wedge, which I didn’t touch because I don’t eat melon.

I washed it all down with two giant $7 bloody marys, garnished with cornichons, olives and pickled beans. I love green beans in a bloody mary—it reminds me of the days and nights spent at Holman’s in my old Portland neighborhood (I’ve never understood why monte cristos are so scarce in NYC and why they put them on the breakfast menu when they’re sandwiches for any time).

I hate wasting food but it’s just not sensible to wrap up leftovers on vacation. I’ve learned this the hard way many times (for instance, eating cold, gelatinous Sichuan beef and ma po tofu while packing in Hong Kong because I couldn’t bear to toss it out). James still insisted on getting his jalapeno, chorizo hash to go, only to throw it out the next morning. He’s even thriftier than I am.

Hash House a Go Go * 6800 W Sahara Ave., Las Vegas, NV 

In-N-Out Burger

As I know I’ve said before, the west coast has all the best burger chains. And by best I kind of just mean that by their mere foreignness they instantly seem more appealing. I don’t know if I shun fast food in NYC because it’s frowned upon (though I doubt it’s any more acceptable in the western states—healthy stereotypes and all) or because the Burger King, McDonald’s and Wendy’s standards just don’t entice me (ok, we do have White Castle). Jack in the Box, Carl’s Jr. and Sonic seem more exciting. Whoppers? Quarter Pounders? Classics, but EH. Fast food for me is about novelty and unnecessary inventions.

So, it doesn’t make much sense that I’d go for In-N-Out Burger. No Philly Cheesesteak Burgers or Sirloin Steak ‘n’ Cheddar Ciabattas to be found. Hamburger, cheeseburger or double cheeseburger (double-double): that’s it in the meat and bun department.

Burger
Just so you know, I only ate one of the four burgers. The other three were consumed by a single human being who's not even fat.

I’m not a burger connoisseur by any means. These specimens are just simple, fresh and good. We didn’t try any fancy ordering lingo and took the default double-doubles with raw onion. I’m curious what’s in the spread. I like spread. There used to be a chain in Portland called Arctic Circle, which may or may not still exist (ok, they live on) and they made good use of spread, too. I’d always get fry dip in to go containers.

That’s why I’m loving the concept of animal style fries: cheese, grilled onions and spread. There’s always next time. Despite hand-cutting the fries and frying them on demand, they didn’t taste all that special. It didn’t seem right that real potato would impress less than frozen in a bag.
We tried two different Las Vegas locations, one Friday on Sahara Avenue for burgers and fries, and one Sunday on Dean Martin Drive for vanilla dessert shakes after our dinner at Rosemary’s. Unfortunately, I was so violently full and tipsy (we only split a bottle of wine but over the course of the afternoon I’d also downed two bloody marys and three gin and tonics) I could barely manage sip. I tried a little leftover melted milkshake the next morning but it wasn’t the same.

In-N-Out Burger * 2900 W Sahara Ave., Las Vegas, NV

Rosemary’s Restaurant

I never went to Las Vegas with the intention of dining exclusively on the strip. That’s why I rented a car. What I hadn’t considered was how non-strip still translates to strip mall.

RosemarysYou can barely read a food blog mentioning Vegas without a Lotus of Siam or Rosemary’s rave. Must-eats, to put it mildly. Many make a point of noting that Lotus of Siam is in a strip mall, yet no one says the same of Rosemary’s, a serious restaurant with prices to match. I was initially scared of fine dining in a complex that’s also home to a Dollar Tree, and I got more nervous when a truck limo pulled up out front. Maybe I’ve been in NYC too long, but who seriously rents out vehicles like that? At least it wasn’t a stretch Hummer, I suppose.

I guess this is standard building practice with new-cities. I mean, where else would you put a business? You’re practically starting from scratch. But even in Portland, which never struck me as old or traditional, restaurants are generally embedded in storefronts or are free standing. You don’t get the mall aesthetic until you reach the outskirts and head into the Beavertons and Greshams of the world. I had no understanding of Las Vegas, it’s really a suburb of a city. And once I got that, I was cool with the lack of gravitas.

I intentionally booked on Sunday, half-price wine night (also a very un-NYC move. Coupons, promotions, gimmicks, whatever you call them, just don’t exist. I thought these Diner's Deck cards seemed like a fun gift but I’d be too embarrassed to use them) because I usually splurge on food yet skimp on wine. An $88 bottle of Domaine Drouhin Pinot Noir becomes much more attractive when it’s price-chopped. This would be a great way to try wines I might normally shy away from.

While skimming the menu, James and I were trying to estimate what portions would be like. After Joel Robuchon’s precious tastes the night before, we were kind of warped. Would the three-course prix fixe leave us starving or stuffed? I was guessing Rosemary’s would be on the small side of medium but their servings turned out to be surprisingly hearty. I actually left food on my plate and that 's a rare occurrence.

Not hearty enough for all, apparently. The two very large gambling type gentleman, one flat-topped forty-something in a Hawaiian shirt, the other closer to seventy and wearing suspenders, were complaining to each other about the size of their food. They also seemed a little irritated when told about the half-price wine promotion and insisted they only wanted beer and cocktails. I was trying to eavesdrop while the waitresses sweet talked and tried to smooth over any potential problems, and could only hear that their usual favorite restaurant was a casino steak house (I couldn’t catch the name) so it really just wasn’t their scene. I’m curious how they ended up there in the first place because it takes effort. I can see that if you’re accustomed to either all-you-can-eat or steakhouse fare, the price point and portion size might give you pause. But this wasn’t even close to foofy food.

The $49 prix fixe includes three courses of your choosing from appetizer, salad/soup, entrée and dessert. We went all savory decided to try In-N-Out shakes on the way back to our hotel. An appetizer and entrée would’ve been sufficient. I ordered with my gut, whatever sounded good on impulse, no planning. I ended up with andouille and blue cheese in two dishes. No complaints, but I ordered a very decadent trio.

You could call the style new or creative American with Southern touches, French technique (they even use a little of that ever popular sous vide). Maybe not the décor, but I could totally see this restaurant blossoming on Fifth Street in Park Slope. Smith Street could seriously use a place like this instead of the blah Italian and Thai food that persists.

I’d been taking outdoor photos earlier in the day and forgot to change the setting on my camera so they turned out atrociously dark. Even after playing with photo editing software, they look like shit. I’ll just include some tiny thumbnails for background color. 

Carpaccio_1Beef & Maytag Blue Cheese Carpaccio: Arugula & Granny Smith Apple Salad, Sicilian Pistachios & Port Wine Drizzles

I started off right. While this could’ve been very heavy, the apple and wine were sprightly enough to keep me alert.

I originally wanted the Texas bbq shrimp with Maytag blue cheese slaw, but let James have it. He always seems to inadvertently order things with bbq sauce and then bitch about it (I do understand that bbq can be read as barbecued, i.e. grilled) so I was amused that zeroed in on this dish. Though as you can see from this recipe that said bbq sauce contains a good dose of heavy cream. And I wondered why the food was so tasty but filling.

Frisee_saladWarm Frisee Salad: Roasted Golden Beets, Roquefort Cheese, Candied Walnuts & Homemade Andouille Vinaigrette.

There’s that blue cheese again. It was the candied walnuts that clinched it for me. This was really good but I probably should’ve eaten this or had the blue cheese and beef carpaccio, not and.

Last week we ordered sandwiches from ‘Wichcraft for a holiday office lunch and people didn’t know what things like frisee or aioli were and seemed suspicious. I don’t understand this. I’ve always worked with chicken Caesar salad/four-cheese ravioli folks. James talks about the guys he works with and they’re always going to exotic, obscure or ostentatious places for lunch, they totally know food. My only guess is that a financial salary allows for more dabbling and experimentation than a library salary, or that librarians just aren’t very adventurous, regardless of cash flow.

SeabassCrispy Skin Striped Bass: Andouille, Rock Shrimp & Fingerling Potato Hash, Hushpuppies & Creole Meuniere Sauce

I didn’t even notice the andouille in the description. Spicy Cajun sausage is amazing but I’d already downed more than my fair share drenched in oil and vinegar from the salad. It was the rock shrimp and hash that grabbed my attention. I left like 20% of the food on my plate, which never happens. My stomach absolutely gave up on this trip. I think I caused irreparable damage and will now have to have a six-pack surgery to make me feel better about myself.

Rosemary’s Restaurant* 8125 W Sahara Ave, Las Vegas, NV

Waterfront Ale House

1/2 I wasn’t going to mention this restaurant from last week because I didn’t have anything remarkable to say, but then I realized that it’s rare that I do so why not. There’s something about the end of the week that makes me uninspired and lazy (which would be today). Rather than vague adventure, I often don’t feel like leaving the neighborhood once I get home and am fine with things like burgers and fries. Waterfront Ale House fits that description, I’d never been, plus they supposedly make great eggnog. Yes, I love eggnog (and fruitcake, as well). And in case you were wondering, it's not on the water, though it's vaguely near the East River.

It’s a packed place, part pub with small tables filling half of the space. There was a wait for seating. By pure happenstance, we got one of the two roomy booths. That never works in my favor so it warmed me a bit. Our timing must’ve been just right because minutes after we were seated and throughout the rest of our meal there was an enormous crowd waiting for seats with antsy folks practically hanging over you or at least salivating over your spot. I didn’t take any photos because it’s like freaking’ Schiller’s or Freeman’s or whatever inexplicably cramped Lower East Side nonsense in there. I just wanted to make sure we were out by 11pm when live jazz was scheduled. Live jazz is rarely a good thing.

My jack cheese burger was so-so, nothing remarkable. The fries were fine. I was more impressed with the large amount of sauces perched on the ledge of our booth. There wasn’t just HP sauce but HP fruity sauce and squeeze curry sauce for chicken (which also worked well with fries), three mustards, a house hot sauce and something strange, peppery and sherry-based from Jamaica but not this brand.

So, if you want to play with sauces and drink a variety of beer, this is your place. If you want to relax and savor a burger or nurse an eggnog, coming back on a weeknight is probably wiser.

Waterfront Ale House * 155 Atlantic Ave., Brooklyn, NY

Flatbush Farm

1/2 Bar_1I’m so not into the whole urban “farm” trend. Terms like seasonal, organic or locally grown excite me slightly less than fritter, popper or bacon wrapped (I realize the two sets needn’t be mutually exclusive—now, that would be a restaurant concept I could support). But I can venture into this terrain if doesn’t entail straying too far from my apartment and Flatbush Farm, while not walkable, was close enough for at least one visit.

The restaurant, which is situated on that semi-Prospect Heights, kind of Park Slope, mini-strip of St. Mark’s between 6th Avenue and Flatbush that’s nearly the tip of a triangle, wasn’t terribly crowded at 9pm on a Saturday. Bad for them but a boon to me. There’s nothing convivial about being wedged into a squished row of two-seaters.

Lamb_2They had the atmosphere down pat, slightly woody and candlelit yet modern and enhanced by design-y hanging bulbs. A Mo’ Stomy, their minty take on a Dark ‘n Stormy, was the perfect warming beverage to sip while skimming the menu, which was spot on with the sudden drop in temperature. Braised, stewy dishes were exactly what I’d had in mind and that’s where they excelled. I had a lamb shoulder with bubble and squeak, as they said. That’s one British classic I’ve never actually tried so I cannot vouch for any authenticity. This rendition seemed to consist of pureed potatoes (possibly with cabbage mixed in) topped with chunks of meat and whittled carrots and turnips, all sauced. James had the pork goulash topped with a wad of hearty egg noodles.

Terrine The country farm terrine with pickled fruit and toast was kind of flat and flavorless. I want terrines to be unctuous and rich. The plums brightened up the dish a bit, but essentially this was a chilled slab of what seemed to be canned chicken. I don’t know that I’ve ever had canned chicken but I imagine it would be like this: dry, chunky, grocery store tuna style. Maybe there’s a poultry based Chicken of the Sea product, after all. And initially our waitress thought that they’d run out of this starter, so obviously we weren’t the only ones ordering it. I’d love to hear other takes on this because it takes a lot to induce finickiness in me.

Goulash We finished with a piece of gooey chocolate peanut butter pie, which probably wasn’t necessary but hard to say no to. The feeling was relaxed enough that I could’ve lingered around for one more drink. I could see Flatbush Farm as fitting for cocktails and bar snacks. That menu includes things like fries with herb mayonnaise, radish and butter baguettes and tempura onion rings.

Because that’s the way I am, I have to toss in one unsavory tidbit. James threw up around 3am the night we ate here, which is something I’ve never known him to do in the eight years we’ve been acquainted (though I did hear a story about puking up his mom’s home cooked hamburger in a Northern Virginian movie theater restroom during The Aviator) and I really don’t want to blame the faux farm food. He insists it was the beer later consumed at Moonshine but we only had a couple I.P.A.’s. Maybe all that hormoneless, antibiotic-free meat was too much for his system.

Flatbush Farm * 76 St. Marks Ave., Brooklyn, NY

Applebee’s Linden

Sampling Tyler Florence’s corporate handiwork had to be done. I just didn’t realize it would happen so soon. It was 9pm, Saturday, and we were in a Linden, NJ strip mall parking lot. I’d already eaten at the Chevy’s earlier this year and wasn’t feeling inspired by Boulder Creek Steakhouse (I like lots of little caloric things not one big chain restaurant steak) so it was Applebee’s by default.

Dip We tempted fate and ordered the spinach and artichoke dip. E coli is passe by now, right? I’m all for unneccesary fat but do you really need a huge side dollop of sour cream (not pictured) to accompany a crock of melted cheese?

I lamed out and instead of getting the crispy brick chicken I tried the non-Florence bistro steak sandwich instead (I wanted fries, not a salad). Luckily, James came through and got the bruschetta burger. The thing was like a damn shape shifter, no matter how many times I snapped shots the pesto foccacia creation turned out blurry.

C6_bruschettaburger_det The most remarkable thing about Tyler Florence’s "huge flavors" (next to the giant photo of his beginning to pudge-up mug emblazoned on the front of all the menus. I know I’m not the first to notice his treading into the fat man waiting to happen territory of D’nofrio, DiCaprio and Sarsgaard) that I sampled were the "crispy garlic fries sprinkled with shaved Parmesan," which tasted supremely unhealthy. I grabbed a few out of James's ramekin (yeah, the TF fries come in a freaking ramekin—mine were just scattered on the plate) and was like “those are really good.” They were sprinkled with rosemary (which you’d think they’d mention as it sounds vaguely upscale) and wet like the top of movie theater popcorn.

What the hell did they do to those things to give them that addictive buttery taste? Perhaps those huge flavors are the result of kitchen chemistry, trans fats and food additives. All I know is it worked on me.

Applebee's * 671 W. Edger Rd., Linden, NJ

T.G.I. Friday’s West Nyack

Tgi_fridays_mac_and_cheese I was bummed that we didn’t get to eat at Cheesecake Factory during my Palisades Center excursion but we couldn’t risk the hour wait because the last bus back to the Tarrytown train station left at 9:45pm. I would hate getting stranded in the middle of nowhere just because I had to have a Tex Mex Eggroll. T.G.I. Friday’s only had a five minute wait, which was about all I could stand for anyway.

I was secretly happy to try T.G.I. Friday’s because I’d just been talking about their new appetizers. If it was solely up to me I would’ve gone for the battered, fried green beans. But when dining with companions that aren’t your boyfriend you have to be more accommodating. If you’ve been with someone for seven years it’s ok to fuss about things that don’t matter, but if friends and acquaintances want to eat fried macaroni and cheese (I know, I’m the only person alive who’s lukewarm on mac and cheese) it’s no great shakes. Tgi_fridays_quesadillaI’ll try anything fried. I just noticed that Cheesecake Factory does a similar item but served with creamy marina. Why is the marina creamy, anyway? Don’t tell me it’s more cheese.

After a couple Ultimate Electric Lemonades and a Double-Stack Quesadilla, I was fortified for the bus, train, subway journey back to Brooklyn. I didn’t get home till midnight but all the cheese, sugar and grease kept me going.

T.G.I. Friday’s * 1000 Palisades Center Dr., West Nyack, NY

Fatburger

There is a closer Fatburger in Jersey City, but I never get to Jersey City. JC is more of a place you pass through. Yes, as it was pointed out to me, we could've gotten cheaper burgers and fries at the Wendy's also in the Palisades Center. But perhaps Fatburger's value exceeds the 99-cent offerings at its fast food competitor.

Fatburger For one, we received the most pleasant service ever in a mall (or most NYC sit down restaurants, for that matter). Your food is brought out to your table, staff comes around and checks on you and brings you things like ketchup and napkins and drink refills and they clear your tray when you're done. And they smile.

The food is cooked fresh to order you get to choose your burger toppings-I had almost everything-pickles, relish, mustard, tomatoes, onions, and lettuce, no mayo. There is a bit of an In N Out vibe to the place, and since that chain comes nowhere near New York, Fatburger clearly has an edge by default. I had a Baby Fat and skinny fries, which was more than enough and way better than average. I was trying not to ruin my appetite since it was late for lunch but too early for dinner.

When asked my name I didn't spell mine out because I was curious how it would be interpreted. Krista is so not an unusual name but people mangle it 90% of the time. My receipt came back as Crysta like Crystal without the L. Creative.

Fatburger * 1000 Palisades Center Dr., West Nyack, NY

Gus’ Red Hots

Gus Do you know what a Michigan is? I’d never heard of such an edible until we made the mistake of believing an I-87 roadside sign with the generic symbols for food and gas. Ten winding miles later we were in Willsboro faced with nothing more than a ratty convenience store/bait and tackle shop. There wasn’t much in the way of sustenance, they didn’t even have seltzer water, the only thing I could’ve dealt with. James picked up a soda and dill pickle Lay’s. The only thing that caught my eye was an upside down paper plate covering an empty metal vat with “We’re out of Michigan sauce today. Sorry.” chicken-scratched on its back.

Gus_michigansStill starving, we took our chances a few miles up in Plattsburgh, due to a highways sign that said Gus’ Red Hots. I’m a freak for chains in big cities, but there’s no need for that in little towns. I knew red hots were hot dogs. What I didn’t know is that they’re also Michigans. I’m a weirdo who doesn’t like hot dogs so I convinced James to order the combo meal so I could at least look at them. Michigans are essentially chili dogs. These came with a sloppy joe looking meat slurry that had a faintly sweet cinnamony aroma like Cincinnati-style chili. Chopped onions are optional. Gus_french_toastThey don’t use typical hot dog buns, but a top-sliced bun almost resembling white bread. James insisted these are common, though I swear I’ve never seen them.

I had french toast, eggs and bacon. The staples were all diner good, but I was disturbed by the default three mini packs of Smart Balance and synthetic syrup. Being an inexplicable condiment skimper, I only used half a vegetable oil spread and a third of one syrup container anyway. Gus_bearBut whatever happened to butter and maple syrup? Heck, we were only 22 miles from Canada.

I love discovering new regional specialties (and bear art–I loved the painting over our booth)New to me, I mean. Obviously, upstate New Yorkers have known about Michigans for some time. Me, I’m only hip to bar food staple Buffalo wings. Apparently, Michigans can also be found in Montreal, which is news to me. Chili dogs just feel completely un-Canadian. Maybe if they swapped the ground beef for gravy and cheese curds, I’d be convinced.

Gus’ Red Hots * 3 Cumberland Head Rd., Plattsburgh, NY