Goodies First

Dec 18

Hill Diner

I don't generally do brunch. Not out of any sort of principle. I like breakfast food and I never cook it myself, but I just cant get up and going early enough. Brunch usually means close to home and my close to home equals lots of strollers and needlessly affectionate couples that I already get enough of on the F train.

So, Hill Diner was random and spur of the moment. And it didn't kill me to wake up and get myself together on a late Saturday afternoon. I've discovered that there's no one worth impressing in the vicinity of my apartment anyway, and South Brooklyn chic consists of women with no makeup, ponytails, glasses and Patagonia fleece. I've never gotten the I'm so full of substance and intellect that I have no need to enhance my looks aesthetic. Getting dolled up for omelets in this climate is futile and a waste of good product.

My croque madame, roasted potatoes and coffee were enjoyable. The company around us, not so much. My jest "doesnt being in here make you want to start a family?" was met with a steely glare, and made me ponder what life would be like with a boyfriend possessing a better grip on jibing humor. Clearly, my problems with brunching has nothing to do with the actual food.

Hill Diner * 231 Court St., Brooklyn, NY

Share on Tumblr

Dec 17

Savoia

Savoia has reasonable prices, better than average pizza, and is a little more inventive than many of the Carroll Gardens (or is this Cobble Hill? I get the borders confused) red sauce restaurants I like to avoid, but its probably not a draw if you live outside the neighborhood. Smith St. is pretty blah despite everyone seeming to bestow it restaurant row status. We were going to try the new, probably mediocre Cuban place, but it was full as new restaurants often are. Savoia, with free tables and a warm glow, beckoned from across the street.

I had reservations about ordering the fattoressa pizza (spinach, gorgonzola, sausage, mozzarella), not because it didnt sound enticing, but because somehow saying the word fat might make me seem fatter myself (this is the sort of bizzarro self-consciousness that a skinny individual would never even consider). Though I've ordered lardo without giving a thought to being viewed as a lard ass. So, the fattoressa was fine, if not a touch over-charred around the edges (I know, wood-burning ovens and all that).

With the number of yet untried restaurants clogging Smith St., it'll probably be a while before I return. Thats the problem with these types of establishments. I've never had a horrible meal in the neighborhood, but I've also never been revved to revisit a place.

Savoia* 227 Smith St., Brooklyn, NY

Share on Tumblr

Dec 9

Yagura

1/2 Sometimes addictions creep up on you. I was initially attracted to Cafe Zaiya as a lunchtime destination at my new midtown job. It's bright, shiny, bustling, and heck there's a Beard Papa stand inside. But a few storefronts closer to me is no frills Yagura. There's a small Japanese grocery store in back, sparse, elevated seating to your immediate right, then the main event to your left, a bustling counter with perpetual lines.

Katsu, teriyaki, noodle soups…I'm not sure what the main draw is, but I always stick with the $4.50 chicken udon and have never been disappointed. Initially, it seemed straightforward, nothing special, but now I'll find myself thinking about it and looking forward to running across the street for a fix. The broth helps, it's very rich and flavorful (is that dashi?) and the noodles are thick and perfectly chewy. The chicken, usually five large chunks or so, has the skin on, making the whole bowl of soup tasty and probably too fatty for some. The best is when you get pieces where the skin is still crispy, the meat seems more fried or broiled than stewed, and maybe that's the secret.

Yagura* 41st St., New York, NY

Share on Tumblr

Dec 7

Mermaid Inn

1/2

Now that high concept spots like Lure Fishbar, Bar Tonno and ten million
others have turned seafood into low carb crudo, its only fitting that I,
always behind the curve, finally try Mermaid Inn, part of the New England
clam shack craze of 2003. Yes, loving french fries, breading and things
served on buns, is so last year.

The upside of avoiding the trendier restaurants until no one cares about
them anymore is that long waits for tables arent as major of an issue. It
was also early, 6pm on a miserably rainy weeknight, which I'm sure
contributed to the desolate feeling inside. Though it wasn't helped by being
seated in the woody carpeted empty back room that truly did look like it
belonged in a small-town Elks lodge. Maybe its cozy and fun when its filled,
but it felt perturbing when a couple other twosomes were seated in the
warmer, more ambient main space. I'm not usually a nitpicker like this,
maybe the foul weather had dampened my soul in addition to my head and feet,
but it also rubbed me the wrong way when out waiter called me
“maam.” It's one thing coming from a bagboy type teen, but quite
another from a gentleman who couldnt be more than five years younger than
me. It was off-putting. And James though it was irritating that they only
list wines on the menu. I kind of agree, given the urban/downhome vibe beer
wouldn't be totally outrageous.

Perhaps my expectations arent well defined, its not as if I grew up with
coastal traditions (despite being raised barely more than an hour from the
Pacific Ocean), but I'm often disappointed with seafood restaurants. They
always seem blah and overpriced. Now that I think about it, fish prepared in
non-Asian styles kind of bores me, and any battered and fried sea creature
(except soft shell crab) gives me stomach trauma.

My grilled dorade stuffed with lemon slices, thyme and cloves of garlic
was rustic and tasty, very Naked Chef, but it wasn't terribly exciting. And
I'm pretty sure the thick slice of bread that sat under our sardine and
tomato-avocado relish was charred, not toasted. I mean, the crust was black
and peeling off. The free chocolate pudding that ends the meal is a nice
touch, though. Or maybe my memory is being clouded by the concept of
complimentary treats. In any case, I expect to report on hot raw fish
trend–I don't know–sometime in early 2006.

Mermaid Inn * 96 Second
Ave., New York,NY

Share on Tumblr

Nov 29

‘inoteca

I'd just gotten over a week-long severe stomach illness and was ravenous,
and strangely my normal food cravings were totally absent. Not wanting any
form of Asian food isn't like me. I feared my body had gone through some
bizarre realignment after barely eating for seven days when I found myself
wanting either German, English or Italian cuisine. I think it was their
perceived heartiness that was appealing.

I love the idea of lots of little things, but invariably small plates
leave me eating leftover Thanksgiving turkey a couple hours later. We
should've ordered at least four things, but I felt like we were being capped
at three, like that's when the waitress seemed satisfied with our choices.
But then, I'm self-conscious about things like eating alone in public (which
I wasn't) and looking gluttonous (which I am), so maybe I was being
hypersensitive.

I'm bad with Italian food, seriously, pardon my ingredient ignorance,
but I'm going with English terms. The first thing that came from the kitchen
was a warm brussels sprout salad with pancetta, a soft white cheese shaved
into squiggles, and a balanced vinaigrette (I'm not a fan of severe
tanginess). We also shared a special of lamb that came sliced and was
surrounded with a sweet/savory chutney, and prawns wrapped in prosciutto.
The prawns might've been my favorite, though all of it was quite tasty. I
just could've eaten more, that's all. An accompanying polenta might've rounded
out the meal.

I never see celebrities, I'm not sure if its because I don't pay attention
to my surroundings or that I don't frequent their lairs. And oddly, whenever
I do spot one there's a Coen brother connection. Not too long ago Tim Blake
Nelson sat next to us at Lombardis. This evening Frances McDormand and two
gentlemen were seated at the table across from us. They came after us and
left before we did, so obviously they were fine with eating even less food
than we did, or else they're really fast eaters.

'inoteca* 98 Rivington St., New
York, NY

Share on Tumblr

Nov 27

Petit Fours–All That?

You know, the more I think about it I bet those Swiss Colony petit fours aren’t all that. I recently picked up a box of pretty pink and minty green little cake squares at the International Food Warehouse in Lodi, NJ because they were so alluring. But like much of the food at IFW, they looked better than they tasted. I actually ended up throwing half the box out this morning because I’m trying not to be a calorie waster. It’s a shame to get all fat and sugared up on bland treats. I want to save my gluttony for only the most delicious of items.

Share on Tumblr

Nov 25

Shrek & Spice

Yeah, Shrek’s made his ugly way into everything. But these fluffy green filled Twinkies caught my attention anyway. It’s probably due to my love of any unnaturally green food (lettuce? Not so much love). I used to go nuts every St. Patrick’s Day when McDonald’s would do shamrock shakes and sundaes. After begging for one, I’d invariably be disappointed by the mint flavor (mint’s never done much for me, which is troublesome for someone with green as a favorite color). I’m not sure how many years this begging then rejecting scenario ensued before my parents stopped giving in to my demands. Luckily, Shrek Twinkies don’t taste minty green, they just are.

Once again, I’ve become fascinated by soda even though I don’t really have a taste for it. No, I’m not even going to discuss those limited edition Thanksgiving-themed Jones sodas. Pepsi Spice is for the masses. More interesting than the beverage are the scary little recipes for things liked baked yams using…you guessed it, Pepsi Spice. Perhaps even scarier is this person’s quest to only drink Pepsi Spice for a month and a half.

Share on Tumblr

Nov 20

Traitor Joe?

I don't recall Trader Joe's opening with much fanfare, it just started existing in Portland sometime in the mid-'90s and has continued ever since. At the time there was only one location, over in that out-of-the-way S.E. Portland pocket near Holgate and 39th streets (actually, I'm embarrassingly over familiar with that area since it was where my teenage stalkee lived). I'm pretty sure they've multiplied since I left in '98.

Though I only spent a few brief years getting to know Trader Joe's, it made an impression on me, and I've discovered I'm not alone. It's one of the few stores I can get staunch New Yorkers worked up over. None of these everything's-better-in-the-city types get my fascination with Wal-Mart, strip malls, or even Target (which I'd mistakenly thought was the new Manhattanite darling since opening in downtown Brooklyn). But when Trader Joe's is mentioned, eyes brighten, heads nod, I've made a breakthrough. It seems that practically everyone has had the opportunity to visit the store somewhere in the U.S. and with this little taste, know they're missing out.

I've always viewed Trader Joe's as a source of cheap, semi-healthy and passably gourmet/specialty items. Honestly, that's not a huge deal in Portland since the city's bursting at the seams with organic crap, but in NYC, inexpensive quality food is a rare species, indeed. But TJ's (ew, that sounds gross, but I've heard people refer to it as such) ain't what it used to be, at least not in my nearby travels.

So far, I've tested Scarsdale and Hewlett (the only one really accessible to New Yorkers via LIRR) in New York and Westwood and Westfield in New Jersey (why the two wests, who knows'). Westfield has become the Trader Joe's of choice, if not because they're the only branch that sells alcohol, but also due to their proximity to the most kickass Hong Kong Supermarket I've ever seen (to be written about soon).

I'm not sure if it's Westfield that's been clouding my Trader Joe's nostalgia or if the store itself is just changing. On my most recent visit I felt like they'd hired character actors to populate the store. The nasal New York accent (or is that New Jersey' I can't tell. Think what's-her-name, that girlfriend of Chandler's on Friends–not that I ever watch lame sitcoms, of course) was rampant. I guess it's my own fault for doing the NJ trek on weekends, but in typical tri-state fashion the aisles are always so jammed you'd think they were giving away free Trader Giotto's marinara or some shit.

Level-headed shoppers have been replaced with zombies mobbing the back corner for cases of 'Two-buck Chuck,' geriatric couples with wives who loudly lecture their hubbies on what the doctor said they can and can't eat, the ladies who low carb, fervently checking labels and creating cart jams in the bagged nuts section, and the fresh off the turnip truck crowd (do they even have turnips in NJ'it is the Garden State, right') who act like they've never been in a store that sells faux health food before, "would ya look at this–chocolate-covered soybeans."

I never thought I'd miss those free trade coffee swilling, Tom's of Maine using, soyrizo-scarffing Oregonians, but they're benign in comparison. Quaint. I used to pine for an NYC Trader Joe's, but visions of Park Slope 40-year-old first time mommies, or worse, Williamsburg parents who think it's cute to dress their babies in deconstructed rock tees from the '80s, snatching up lunch box-sized chocolate soymilk with glee keep my dream in check. I'll suffer sans Trader Joe's if it means keeping precious NYC riff raff at bay.

Trader Joe's * 155 Elm St., Westfield, NJ

Share on Tumblr

Nov 20

Laksa Trauma

I hope this is just an unfortunate coincidence, but the two times I’ve decided to make laksa (lemak) from scratch I’ve ended up sick. The last time, a few years ago, it was nothing major, just a little queasiness and dismay at the gritty quality of my broth (I’m not sure if you’re supposed to pound the paste even finer or strain to catch the little bits).

The weekend before last I trekked out the Edison, NJ Hong Kong Supermarket. The one in my old stomping ground, Sunset Park, is fine, but this behemoth totally blows away any NYC Asian grocery stores. Plus, in the back of my head I was thinking how the NJ location is the only place I’ve seen rau ram (or daun kesom to be more Malay about it) for sale. While I’ve never knowingly tasted this herb, I know it’s integral for laksa.

Of course it wasn’t in stock on this trip. But I decided to go ahead with the laksa-making project anyway. Using a combination of three recipes I went for one that used both coconut milk and broth (last time I made shellfish stock from scratch, but I wasn’t so gung ho this time), shrimp, fried bean curd, fresh rice noodles, bean sprouts, fried shallots and a paste with candlenuts, lemongrass, turmeric, belacan, galangal, etc. I didn’t use cockles or garnish with hard-boiled eggs.

I won’t go into the detail, but I became violently ill the day after eating my soup and have been seriously out of sorts since. I was too sick to eat the Thanksgiving food I’d spent a lot of time on and am just starting to get a normal appetite. I honestly don’t think the laksa is to blame since James also ate some with no ill effects. But like being turned off from root beer floats after a bad childhood experience, I’m afraid that I’m now going to have bad laksa connotations. That’s a damn shame.

Share on Tumblr

Nov 20

Berry Picking

Not all Strawberry shops are created equal. Some are cramped, some are sprawling. The Union Square location kind of sucks, while Grand Central's might be my favorite. And it's mostly about the shoes because I'm less than enthusiastic about their middle-of-the-road misses offerings . There will always be at least one pair I would like (often more) and they're rarely over $39.99. I like to set my limit at $25 for this genre of shoes, though. The stock is similar to Century 21 really, but condensed and not as manic. And also like Century 21, whether of not they'll actually have your size in stock is a crapshoot. I don't know if I'm just easily pleased footwear-wise (I don't think so) but there's always something that suits me and people often seem surprised when I mention Strawberry if asked where I got a particular pair of shoes. It's a step up from Rainbow's shoe department, though not a massive step.

Strawberry * 129 E. 42nd. St., New York, NY (and elsewhere)

Share on Tumblr