Skip to content

Posts from the ‘American’ Category

Jan 13

Irving on Irving


I'm not sure what the heck this new restaurant's name is. I've seen it
called Irving Irving, Irving and Irving, but I'm sticking with what's
written on the menu. This confusing place peaked my curiosity when I heard
they did some new take on the Philly cheesesteak. That's a sandwich near and
dear to my heart. And since Irving on Irving happened to be right on the way
to where I was meeting acquaintances, it seemed like a good opportunity to
sniff it out.

Unfortunately, the cheesesteak is on the lunch menu so we had to opt for
dinner fare. There was absolutely nothing wrong with anything, but I
couldn't choose an entree for the life of me. Nothing jumped out at me. The
appetizers were appealing, the pizzas sounded good, but the entrees lacked a
pizzazz I craved. To start, I had sangria and a nice antipasti with a
generous selection of cured meats (do I ever love cured meat), olives and
cheese.

I ended up choosing the salmon with a vegetable ragout over something
that could've been beans or a thick round grain (I was tired and didn't
scrutinize before I ordered). It was perfectly edible, even good, but my
socks weren't knocked off. James's kielbasa with potatoes and red sauerkraut
in an extremely sweet sauce (honey? maple?) didn't seem like a bad choice
either.

The vibe is small, cozy, agreeable and possibly better suited to lunch.
It's a neighborhood type of place, and I'm often nearby so it's not
inconceivable that I'll be back.

Closed: It's Casa Mono now.


Irving on Irving * 52 Irving Pl., New York, NY

Email, RSS Follow
Pin It
Share on Tumblr
Email

Jan 6

Lansky Lounge

I'd never felt inclined to visit Lansky Lounge, but somehow I ended up at
their new restaurant and felt o.k. about it. Supposedly the former personal
chef for the King of Norway is the chef. That could be, but you'd be hard
pressed to find a single Norwegian item on the menu. This is old-fashioned
American classic territory, which fits in nicely with the gangster hideout
theme.

A friend who never gets asked out on proper dates was trying to find a
way to get to the traditional dinner-and-movie-where-the-guy-pays stage
after sleeping with her new suitor on the first date. In my head I was
thinking, "yeah, good luck" but my mouth suggested Lansky as a cool, classy,
get-to-know-you joint. But the girl doesn't eat meat (that's the least of
her problems), and this is no place for a vegetarian. She's on her own here.

A large part of the menu is devoted to steak, with quite a selection of
cuts. These guys are obviously hip to the steakhouse trend. We started out
with Caesar salad and calamari in a light cornmeal batter with a tangy
(tamarind?) gingery dipping sauce. Neither of us could resist the filet
mignon. The waiter suggested it, saying that the sirloin was bigger, but the
filet was the best. I expected a puny, albeit succulent, speck of meat, but
the juicy hunk that came out was an unexpected surprise. Perfectly rare.

There's a list of sides (and befores and afters) from which we chose
sauteed spinach (though I wanted it creamed to up the cholesterol quotient
even further) and extremely rich and pungent gorgonzola mashed potatoes. I
thought they were a hit, but James insisted he could still taste them the
next day and I'm not sure if that's exactly a compliment.

There's an airy, roomy, swank '40s feel to the place. I don't think I've
ever dined with that much elbow room in Manhattan. It was filled, but not
crowded, which is the dead opposite of the bar just beyond the swinging
doors. We'd had a quiet 9:00 drink at the bar before dinner and by the time
headed back that direction, quite a party had developed. I was always under
the impression that Lansky was annoying and hip, but the folks grooving on
the funky 70's tunes (courtesy of a DJ that happened to be James's
downstairs neighbor) were lacking the hip part. Unless you're talking twin
sets and polos in a hip to be square sort of way, which they most definitely
weren't.

The evening was fun and satisfying. But where usually it's wise to stick
with drinks when bars get the notion to serve food, in this case I'd opt for
the dining experience and imbibe elsewhere.


LanskyLounge and Grill * 104 Norfolk St., New York,NY

Email, RSS Follow
Pin It
Share on Tumblr
Email

Jan 1

Pat’s


Pat's claims to be the birthplace of the cheesesteak, and who am I to doubt?
Pat's is plain, white and less flashy than Geno's
across the street. I was scared off on New Year's eve by their lack of
business, but on Jan 1. they seemed to be on equal footing. I'd learned my
lesson the hard way the night before and I was determined to order properly
this time.

The tone at Pat's was even more no-nonsense, the line seemed to move
quicker and they didn't even bother to close the sliding window while making
the order. I was shaking in my boots. I sauntered up to the counter and said
with relative confidence, "cheez whiz steak with." I balked at saying "wit"
out of fear that they'd know I wasn't a local and think I was parodying the
colloquialism. But it seemed to do the trick. I was presented with a huge,
juicy, processed cheese-filled sandwich in mere seconds. James made the
mistake of saying "cheez whiz steak with onions." He added the onions
part and got a measly sandwich. I felt pretty smug with my prize specimen.

I was pleased that Pat's had napkins, but they serve their cheesteaks on
an open piece of paper where Geno's wraps theirs up. This would not be a
problem if they were to be immediately consumed, but our intent was to take
them home with us for later (James went as far as also going to Geno's to
get two for the road). We wrapped them tightly in newspaper and stuffed them
in our bags. And even after a two hour car ride, a harrowing trek through
the icy streets of Orange, New Jersey (where we dropped the rental car off)
to the train, and the subsequent subway ride, the cheesteaks held up! We did
have to re-warm them, but their Philly-ness was not lost in transit.


Pat'sKing of Steaks *
1237 E. Passyunk Ave., Philadelphia, PA

Email, RSS Follow
Pin It
Share on Tumblr
Email

Dec 31

Geno’s

From what I'd gathered during my extensive Philly research, it appeared that
there was a rivalry between Geno's and Pat's since
they're across the street from each other and both do a booming cheesesteak
business. I got the impression that Geno's was rowdier, more of a late-night
drunk food hang out.

We poked around both early on New Year's eve and there was a crowd at
Geno's (I'm always scared of places with no customers) so we ate there
first. I'd also read that there was an ordering protocol, along the lines of
the Soup Nazi so I was a bit nervous. And of course, I botched my order. I
knew that Cheez Whiz was the default cheese and that you could also get
American cheese or provolone. This is the first component of the order, you
must specify cheese choice. "Wit" means with, which means you want it with
onions.

I got up my nerve, approached the take-out window, got my money out
(they're brusque and wait for no one) and repeated what the guy ahead of me
said, "steak with," which got me a steak sandwich with onions, yet no
cheese, which is the whole point of a cheesesteak! Duh, I didn't say cheese
because I thought that was a given (and I was mimicking the previous
customer, thinking he knew what he was doing). It was perfectly fine, but
not a cheesesteak. My only complaint was the peculiar absence of
napkins (I'm so not an eat-with-my-hands person). I gobbled it down in the
freezing cold and rehearsed how I'd order at Pat's later. (12/31/00)

I always forget to mention when I go to Geno's. I seem to be there at
least twice a year. They give you napkins and bags now, which is a plus when
you're transporting a near trunk load of cheesesteaks back to NYC. But the
best part of bringing my visiting from out-of-country sister to Philly for
no good reason was seeing a fight break out between a big, drunk oaf and the
Geno's staff. (4/29/04)


Geno's* 1219 S. Ninth St.,
Philadelphia, PA

Email, RSS Follow
Pin It
Share on Tumblr
Email

Dec 29

Relish

This seems an odd second dining choice compared to my first, Outback
Steakhouse in New Jersey. But after being quoted an hour wait (and feeling
tears well up–I'm serious, it was an emotional evening), I had to go to
plan B, and Relish was vaguely on the route from New Jersey to Queens.

Actually, it was a fine, solid choice. sat in the back lounge, had a
lamb chimichanga (which wasn't much like a "real" [as if there is such a
thing as an authentic chimichanga] one) appetizer with a sort of hominy
sauce/soup and prepared for the impending blizzard. I had a thick, meaty
pork chop with a rich oniony sauce and potato pancakes with apple sauce.
This is food food. I left full, but not overwhelmingly so.


Relish * 225 Wythe St., Brooklyn, NY

Email, RSS Follow
Pin It
Share on Tumblr
Email

Nov 19

Junior’s

The first time I visited this Brooklyn institution was quite an experience.
I naively chose the smoking section at 1 am on a Friday night and ended up
being seated in thug central. O.k., I don't really know if the room was
filled with actual gangsters or not, but I felt pretty out of place. I was
most impressed with how the waitstaff left your half-smoked butt in the
ashtray when they dumped out the ashes. Classy. Clearly, they had been
reprimanded for tossing out still smokeable cigarettes before.

On my most recent visit at 5:30 on a Sunday it was a different scene
altogether–families galore and no apparent smoking section in sight. This
was o.k. too. The setting isn't as important as stuffing yourself to the
gills.

A reuben sandwich and side order of fries was just the ticket. But
Junior's is famous for their cheesecake so I couldn't leave without a slice.
However, I veered from the standards and opted for the black forest
cheesecake, which may not have been the wisest choice. It wasn't bad, but it
wasn't cheesecake. I'd liken the taste to a dense, creamy crunchberry a la
Captain Crunch. I suppose one should stick to the basics when it comes to
diner food. (11/19/00)

Junior's is fun. Though it was more fun when you could smoke in the back
room late at night surrounded by sketched-out characters. It sort of felt
like when you were in high school and would hang out smoking and drinking
coffee at Denny's because there wasn't anything better to do. Maybe the
cheesecake isn't what it used to be, but I'm no old-school Brooklynite, no
nostalgia for me. I just get a kick out of the place and the way it's
changed with the neighborhood. The cocktail menu (I love it when places
actually list choices of drinks) has this retro design, I think they've
re-branded themselves in a slightly knowing kitschy way, though it's by no
means a hip haunt. And there are things like sidecars and brandy Alexander
listed, but you know it's downtown Brooklyn by classics like sex on the
beach, screaming orgasm, and my favorite: thug passion. What the heck is in
a thug passion? I wonder what will happen to Junior's clientele when the new
T.G.I.Friday's opens down the street in the old Gage & Tollner space. Ghetto
mudslides will have to be concocted to keep up. (3/5/04)

I don't recall Junior's having bathroom attendants before. But then,
maybe I never used the facilities in the past. It's a weird bathroom scene
(and hardly the freshest smelling) for sure. Clearly the attendant is more
security guard than social marker. (1/29/05)


Junior's * 386
Flatbush Ave., Brooklyn, NY

Email, RSS Follow
Pin It
Share on Tumblr
Email
Newer Entries »