Posts from the ‘NYC’ Category

Jul 6

Big Eat

The most direct route from James's to my place involves a straight, but
treacherous shot down Bowery to the Manhattan Bridge. It's a total obstacle
course, but at least mini traffic jams allow me to take note of new
restaurants like Big Eat. The name alone sold me. Big Eats would've been ho
hum, but Big Eat…now that's got flair. I vowed to check it out the
very next day, and for once, I actually did what I said I was going to.

It was a big, flashy, two-level, Hong Kong-style (not that I've ever
been to HK, but it's the look that I imagine they're going for) affair. We
were the only non-Asians in the place (which could be good or bad, who's to
say) which proved to be a tiny problem when it became apparent that the
waiter couldn't really understand or read English (though he seemed able to
speak it). Not a big deal, after I figured out that pointing to the Chinese
(Sorry, I don't know my Cantonese from Mandarin, though I will start a
Mandarin class next month) characters worked like a charm.

We ordered crazy east-west things like crab wrapped in Canadian bacon
(it was fake crab and regular bacon) and honey-garlic chicken. There was
also a scallop in XO sauce dish in there somewhere. The overall impression
was that Big Eat was akin to Sweet and Tart in mood, though in menu less dim
sum-y. I'd go back.

Big Eat * 97 Bowery, New York, NY

Share on Tumblr

Jun 21

Cositas Ricas

Rule number one: Hawaiian anything always rules. Rule number two: anything Hawaiian by way of Colombia is bound to puzzle…and yet still please. After a scary engagement party on the Upper East Side, we ended up like bats out of hell drunk, and still hungry (little crackers and pates just don't cut it) on the BQE. A food trek to Roosevelt Avenue didn't sound like a bad idea, and Cositas Ricas was still brightly lit and beckoning post-midnight.

The menu has a stuffed arepa section and a crazy juice/fountain drinks (jugos, mixtos) section, but I was mesmerized by the "caprichitos ricos" i.e. delicious caprices. Well said. This is where things like hamburguesa farahona: farahona (whatever that is) hamburger with ham, cheese, demiglase(sp) sauce and french fries and salchipapa, which is a plate of fried, chopped up sausage, french fries and hard boiled egg, are found. Of course, my personal favorite is sandwich Hawaiano: french bread, baked pork loin, and Hawaiian sauce because I'm crazy for pork and pineapple. The sandwich is large and pressed cubano-style. Absolutely what I was looking for, perfect late-night food. Perfect anytime food, really.

Even if you're stuffed to the gills, grab something to go from the bakery/dessert case. You'll be glad you did the next morning. (6/21/03)

I wouldn't have predicted Cositas Ricas would be my first NYC meal back from a short notice Portland family emergency trip. But its sort of near La Guardia, open late and does the ham and pineapple combo like no ones business. I needed to get my bearings, and Hawaiian sandwiches can be very grounding. (10/23/04)

Cositas Ricas * 7919 Roosevelt Ave., Jackson Heights,NY

Share on Tumblr

Jun 20

Cocotte

Duck confit, frisee and fries certainly don't feel like diet food, but then,
I don't really profess to be on one (I'm a very covert calorie
counter…duh, if I'm eating fat like it's going out of style). But
eating a little French food every now and then certainly won't kill you. I
haven't really patronized the seeming glut of new-ish bistros popping up in
Park Slope, so I can't compare (though I've heard disparaging things about a
few others). But the mood at Cocotte is relaxed, the food is good and the
prices were fair. I can't complain.

Cocotte * 337 Fifth Ave., Brooklyn, NY

Share on Tumblr

Jun 11

Komodo

Mexican-Asian, huh. In this fusion crazy city (I don't know, are people
still into fusion?), why not go a little wild? I must have walked past this
place at least 500 times in my NYC life (my most frequented bar is on the
next block), so after five years, it had to be done.

The flavor combinations are relatively restrained, in practice. James
had fish tacos, which were only unusual with the inclusion of a spicy, honey
mustard dipping sauce. I tried the unadventurous diner's favorite: roast
chicken. I only did so because I'm a sucker for sides. They totally make the
meal, and the idea of espresso, pomegranate black beans and chili butter
sweet potatoes coupled with chipotle honey-glazed chicken caught my
attention. The food was good, not amazing, but good. Certainly worth one
visit in half a decade.

Closed: Komodo is a goner.

Komodo * 186 Ave. A, New York, NY

Share on Tumblr

Jun 7

Itzocan Cafe

After waiting 45 minutes for a table that wouldn't clear on our original
attempt to dine, I was wary about a second try. It's a tiny place, and we
got a weird table by the door this time. The feng shui must be a nightmare
at Itzocan.

I had wanted to try the place because I liked the idea of Mexican
brothers who'd spent years working at French restaurants doing their own
thing. The food I tried was more than fine, but it lacked some sort of
oomph. It could be what I chose, but it felt diet-y. For an appetizer, James
and I shared a souffl, cake thing made of blue corn and huitalocoche with
radishes and mesclun. I ordered a short rib entre, the man's dish and James
a shrimp and brown rice dish, totally girlie. We ate half each, then swapped
plates for variety. The short ribs did it for me, but I lean towards the
meaty, heavy, strong flavors camp. The dessert, a sort of warm bread pudding
with caramel, walnuts and raisins was also a keeper.

Itzocan Caf * 438 E. Ninth, Ave., New York, NY

Share on Tumblr

May 26

Truc Mai

*Truc Mai has become a Malayisan place, Blacan something-or-another.

I think I need to explore Truc Mai more. I only had basics like spring rolls (they had some crazy sounding version that involved "hash" and both soft and crispy skins) and grilled lemongrass pork on rice vermicelli. I'm fanatic about banh mi and Vietnamese snacks and desserts, but I'm not up to speed on entrees. I did enjoy the overheard conversation between the husky teenage waiter and a loud middle-aged woman with a heavy Brooklyn accent and a weed problem (I've got one too–weed problem that is, not a Brooklyn accent). He suggested she get a goat to eat all the crap in the yard and then when that's all done turn the goat into gyro (pronounced ji-ro, of course) meat. Why didn't I think of that?

Truc Mai * 6102 Seventh Ave., Brooklyn, NY

Share on Tumblr

May 25

Maryann’s

This is rapidly becoming the new Cowgirl Hall of Fame. A place with so-so food that's good for groups, I guess. A few months ago we held a party for a coworker here. More recently it was a Memorial Day meet-up location. I think it's because people dig margaritas and large plates of reasonably priced food. I just don't know. But in mixed company it's never flattering to come across as a difficult food snob. I have countless other ways of alienating people so I'll just keep my opinions on festive food to myself.

Mary Ann's * 86 Second Ave., New York, NY

Share on Tumblr

May 23

La Portena

Friday afternoon I had no idea, all the organ meats I'd be eating Friday
night. But Friday afternoons are like that. The evening was all about la
parilla, the mammoth mixed grill at La Portena. They have that oddball
Argentinean-Italian thing happening that makes me realize how little I know
about South American history. So, we had antipasti pre-meat. The meat
included regular sausage, blood sausage, tripe, sweetbreads, shell steak,
and tongue. Enough to easily feed three. No starches, no sides (except
chimichurri, of course). It was total Atkin's paradise…too bad I'm doing
Weight Watchers now.
The family sitting across from us, who were splitting la parilla three ways,
had me mesmerized for no good reason. I was oddly attracted to the Mexican
teen I assume was out with his younger brother and dad. He had this
androgynous, handsome, soft face and Sun-in orange streaked bangs a la me in
1984. He seemed so gentle, and upstanding (that could have something to do
with the fact he wasn't speaking English), so unlike all the bratty teens I
usually see around. He still had that immigrant-y politeness to him. He
hadn't gone bad yet. God bless him, out on a Friday night with his family
eating organ meats. I couldn't stop staring. Thankfully, the walls are
covered in mirrors. Perfect for ogling. (5/23/03)

La Portena * 7425 37th Ave., Jackson Heights, NY

Share on Tumblr

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

Share on Tumblr

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

Share on Tumblr

Posts from the ‘NYC’ Category

Big Eat

Cositas Ricas

Cocotte

Komodo

Itzocan Cafe

Truc Mai

Maryann’s

La Portena

Otto

Amarin

Featured

Occasional Instagramming

Yes, it’s come to this

My Other Blogs

What?

The Past Will Haunt You

Pigeonholing 101