Posts from the ‘What to Eat’ Category

May 11

Otto

Enoteca Pizzeria whatever. I'd been wary of the place. The reviews weren't
so hot (something about crust like a cracker) and the crowds allegedly
monumental. Maybe it was the gloomy weather, or maybe it was the 4pm
in-between mealtime arrival, but on Mother's Day, the celebrity pizza and
wine bar was nearly empty. We had lemony, spicy fried chickpeas, and I had
to have the lardo pizza. The toppings were sparse, with just the right
flavor of rosemary, nutmeg and wonderful pork fat. If you got a good bite
that was drenched with olive oil and also contained a bit of lardo, it
created this great slick, salty sensation in your mouth and throat like when
you get a big mouthful of movie theater popcorn from the top where all the
fake butter has pooled. What a great fatty feeling.

Otto* 1 Fifth Ave., New
York, NY

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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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May 4

Minado

1/2

Minado is clearly the Japanese version of East
Buffet. And if you're familiar with East Buffet, I barely need
elaborate. It's an over-the-top, horn-of-plenty feeding frenzy. The dcor is
definitely more restrained than it's similar Chinese all-you-can-eat, but
being in a Long Island strip mall, you could hardly call it tasteful. It's
not someplace I'd normally frequent, but it's near the Hicksville Ikea and a
person can only take so much meatballs and lingonberry after a hard day's
shopping.

Of course, there's a sushi bar with all sorts of varieties including one
baffler with pink rice. There are also standards such as teriyaki, wakame,
and edamame. But like any good "ethnic" buffet, there must be American
banquet pleasers a la lobster thermador, and pasta. Being a lover of tiny
not-quite-sweet-enough Asian desserts, I was happy with the rows of light
layered sponge cakes flavored with mocha and green tea.

Load up, but don't waste (throwing out uneaten sushi will net you a 20%
surcharge) and don't overstay the 1.5 hour limit. Ha, we always end up past
the two-hour mark without even realizing it. It's not a matter of being
piggish, it's just that normal, i.e. myself, people eat at a reasonable pace
(you may be aware of my "shovel time" grade school lunch trauma). Everyone
around us came and went, new crops filled the tables while we held our slow
and steady ground. And slow and steady wins the race, right?

Minado* 219 Glen Cove Rd.,
Carle Place, NY

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Apr 26

Battery Park Applebee’s

1/2

Feeling good in the neighborhood…I'm not sure that Battery Park City
really qualifies as a neighborhood, but you know. I just thought I'd give
the briefest mention of my first Manhattan Applebee's experience. There's
nothing finer than downing massive nachos, riblets, quesadillas and
mozzerella sticks (and that's just the appetizer) catty corner from the
World Trade Center crater. We will rebuild!

Applebee's * 102 N. End
Ave., New York, 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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Apr 10

Rai Rai Ken

Who says the obnoxious practice of bombarding apartment buildings with take
out menus doesn't work? I'd always meant to try Rai Rai Ken, but it's tiny
and it just never seemed to be the right moment…until James had a menu
slipped under his door. I'm not a huge ramen fan, and yes I know ramen is
not all like Top Ramen, but this soup was on the tastier side. What was
truly baffling were the list of extras: green onion and roast pork I
understand, but butter?! I knew those Japanese had a fetish for
mayonnaise, but apparently they're nutty for dairy in all its inappropriate
forms.

RaiRai Ken * 214 E. 10th, New York, NY

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Mar 29

Les Halles

Duck leg confit and crispy potatoes coupled with a side order of fries. I
swear I didn't know I was ordering double fries (the menu didn't mention
potatoes with the confit). It seemed like an acceptable indulgence,
considering it was to be my last pre-weight watchers brunch. Gluttony was
the least of my sins that morning. James chided me for talking about nurses
raping patients at the breakfast table. I was only discussing the previous
night's bit of arts and entertainment, Talk to Her. Jeez, people just
need to keep their eyes on their own plates. I was disgusted with the nearby
Midwesterners with moustaches' mundane conversation, but I kept my ugly
expressions to myself. It's all about composure, see?

LesHalles * 411
Park Ave. S., New York,NY

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Mar 23

Friendly’s

1/2

This wasn't my first Friendly's excursion, that would've been my maiden
voyage into Staten Island with the specific goal of trying Friendly's (it
was mildly traumatizing, lots of dirty, misbehaved kids and older, hefty
adults in wheelchairs). I've since tried one in Connecticut, one in New
Jersey (I never know the specific cities) and one in Saratoga Springs. I
know Friendly's is nothing special, but it played a pivotal role in my
mental well being when I first moved to NYC. I was poor, friendless, jobless
(huh…five years later and not much has changed) and would sit in the
sweltering heat on the ratty left-behind mattress on the floor and watch my
little TV. I'd see all these ads for Friendly's with candy sundaes and it
just seemed so suburban and safe. I'd never heard of Friendly's so I wasn't
identifying with it specifically, just the genre, and became hell bent on
finding one. But as it turned out the only location in all of NYC is at the
Staten Island Mall, which I didn't have the luxury of visiting until two
years later when I was privy to a car. Now that I have a boyfriend with a
shiny automobile, Friendly's can be mine any time I'd like. But jeez, one
wouldn't want to become spoiled and jaded. I play it conservatively with my
Friendly's excursions.

Friendly's* somewhere about
45 min. NW of Philadelphia

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Mar 23

Monk’s

First off, I'm not a beer person. Not that I dislike it or anything, but I'm
certainly not an expert. I'm not sure if this Belgian place is more
restaurant or bar. Size-wise you'd think restaurant, but they're pretty
obsessive about their Trappist brews. During the 30 minute wait for a table
(which would lead you to believe food is the emphasis), I was able to pour
over one of their pamphlets, complete with glossary, categorization by
styles, and price list by country. It was all a bit overwhelming if you ask
me.

When all was said and done, I tried a Rodenbach Flemish Sour Ale and
Boon Kreik, a bright red, sour cherry brew. I guess I must like tangy, red
beers since they were both in that vein. But I was there for the mussels and
fries, which were good even though there were a few duds in the bucket. A
smoked salmon appetizer with Boursin and a tart cucumber dill salad was
refreshing. It's a fun night spot, and one of the few places I found in town
to serve real food till 2am. (5/12//01)

This is the place for beer, mussels and fries. But apparently not the
place for brunch. I only say that because I'm not a terribly critical eater,
I don't love everything, but I rarely dislike anything either. With that
said, their eggs Benedictine totally disturbed me. They came on heel ends of
very hearty, crusty, peasanty bread that were impossible to cut through, so
logistically they're impossible to eat (I did see someone eating them out of
hand like a sandwich-the correct procedure?) and then the hollandaise was so
sour (vinegar? Lemon juice?) it was unpleasantly tangy. The spinach was
doing that grainy thing on the teeth it often does, but coupled with the
awkward presentation and too-tart sauce, I had no desire to finish my food.
And in a food city like Philly, there's no reason to fill-up on mediocrity.
(3/23/03)

Monk's Cafe * 264 S. 16th
St., Philadelphia, PA

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