Apr 26
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
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
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
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
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
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
1/2
Part of the great NYC pizza frenzy of 2002-03. Their shtick is pizza by the
pound. But as it's just around the corner from James', it was at least worth
a try. A small slice of potato-rosemary and egg and bacon were quite good.
My only issue might be the potato, which they also do at Sullivan St. Bakery
and though I've only sampled it once, if I'm correct the potatoes stay soft.
Here they reheat the potato slices and they become like potato chips, and
well, I don't care that much for potato chips. Heck, they'd make good
homemade potato chips, if you're into that sort of snack, but I'd like a
little chew to my thinly sliced tuber. Nonetheless, Pie beats other blah
pies nearby (no, I'm not referring to Otto).
Pie* 124 Fourth Ave., New York, NY
I've declared Keens the fertile-making steak house. I'd always considered
myself more of a Luger (not Lugers, dammit, no extra Ss, just like it's not
Barnes & Nobles either) girl, and now I know why. James's college pal, Pat,
the recent transplant, got in his head that Luger was the place to impress,
the spot to take the ladies (nevermind that he didn't have a lady, and the
few dates he eventually scored were with a vegetarian).
Then another old college buddy that James isn't fond of took Pat to
Keens and that's when all hell broke loose. Keens took the place of Luger in
his mind as the chicks-dig-it restaurant (I don't know where he got the idea
girls are nuts for meat and potatoes from in the first place). His fate was
sealed when he took a mousey, classic meat and potatoes gal/coworker out to
Keens. Soon after, we don't know if it was actually that night, he knocked
her up.
There might be something to all this. I recall a beef council commercial
where the old stodgy guys get scared because their steakhouse has been
overrun by women, one very pregnant. What, is iron the latest aphrodisiac?
Beef might be what's for dinner, but you'd better think twice about what
you're going to get for dessert.
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
I guess I eat, well at least I order, too much. A request for Nasi goreng, fish in chili sauce, sate, corn fritters and fried chicken caused the waitstaff to move us from a two-seater to a bigger table. Was I a pig? I started eavesdropping and people on one side of us were just eating soup, while the couple on the other side were only eating appetizers. What's wrong with these people?
Cafe Borobudur * 128 E. Fourth St., New York, NY
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