Posts from the ‘West Village’ Category

Apr 27

Las Ramblas

Tapas are tricky. I love the little morsels, but I'm averse to the little rooms that usually go along with the package. It's not like I'm accustomed to large open spaces in NYC, but tapas in particular seem synonymous with long waits and being squished. Um, and I have my own issues with bar stools: one, my balance is horrendous, I feel like I'm going to topple over, and two, I have a fat ass, at least fat enough to mush over the sides of many stools' tiny circular tops.

I shied away from Tia Pol for ages because I thought it would be a nightmare, and it wasn't at all. Las Ramblas is more how I envisioned Tia Pol to be, if that makes any sense. Not a nightmare by any means, but bedroom-sized with a handful of nearly touching tables. When I arrived there were actually two spots open, but they wouldn't seat me without my dining companion so I waited the four-stooled bar. Of course, the place filled up in mere minutes and when James showed up we just ate at the bar because there was no telling if anyone was ever going to leave (we were asked if we wanted an open table about half way through, but we were already established where we were).

We didn't go wild with ordering, just four items, and pretty basic ones at that. Everything was likeable, but perhaps a notch below the dishes we had at Tia Pol (I'm only using them for comparison because it's the most recent tapas experience I've had, though it wasn't all that recent).

Simple gambas. There was something almost Caribbean about the preparation. Instead of simply sliced garlic, it was like they'd used a sofrito.

I'm scared of mayonnaise but love patatas bravas. And I never thought I'd say this, but these potatoes could've actually used a touch more aioli.

Albondigas, plain and simple.

Serrano and idiazabal. I could eat this ham and cheese all day.

Las Ramblas * 170 W. 4th St., New York, NY

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Feb 24

5 Ninth

1/2 Jeez, how does someone manage to spend $86 on lunch for two? I've had a $5 lunch limit for the past few years, which is pretty lax considering previously I was a staunch brown bagger.

Well, the secret to running up a hefty tab is simple: order a couple drinks each. That's all. I owed James for his generosity at Blue Hill and anticipated at least being able to get reimbursed for the $15 Cubano that I was using as an example in an article I was writing. Plus, I was using a sick day (I really was sick, I swear, but not too sick to eat, duh) and wanted to make the most of my precious freedom.

But no cubano. They were suspiciously out, and it's certain that they didn't run out since there was only one other table occupied in the entire downstairs room where we were seated. So, I went to the suggested $12 skate sandwich, which was a battered and fried riff on a po' boy, but with aioli, strong green leaves/herbs I couldn't identify and topped with roe. Thick shrimp chips came on the side, which only made me wonder what would've accompanied the cubano (which for the record is a Berkshire pork, prosciutto, aioli [they love their garlic mayo] gouda and pickled jalapeo affair).

James ordered a $18 duck leg curry, which prompted the waitress to recommend a $5 side of rice, which we discovered was completely asinine as the dish comes served over rice. That's the sort of thing that ought to be complained about, but I steer away from. She really shouldn't have indulged in price gouging since they'd already failed to meet my sandwich expectations. I think I should hold Zak Palaccio personally responsible (and I hear the guy is opening another restaurant–didn't we just get Fatty Crab?). I do recall my first and only foray into his "Brooklyn global cuisine" as a frustrating experience.

So, the redundant rice, two Johnnie Blacks and soda and Gruner Veltliners killed me in the end. Now it'll have to be sack lunch for at least week. At least I had a nice cold medicine-wine buzz to last me through the afternoon.

5 Ninth * 5 Ninth Ave., New York, NY

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Feb 22

Son Cubano

I can honestly say that I practically tried everything on the menu. I can also honestly say that I probably wouldn't have visited Son Cubano of my own volition. It's interesting seeing restaurants from a journalistic (I use that term loosely) perspective versus a personal one. You might enjoy the food or respect the chef, but that doesn't necessarily mean that you'd pick the place for an impromptu Thursday night dinner. Clientele and location are also big factors for me, and well, the meatpacking district doesn't need any explaining, does it? I did dig the restaurant's location, smack against the increasingly out-of-place Western Beef.

The chef was beyond generous and wanted to give me a taste of everything Cuban. And I do mean everything. I just expected a couple quintessential dishes, so I could get schooled on what makes Cuban cuisine Cuban for a NY Post article not an encyclopedia entry. Not that I was complaning.

But during at least three points during the evening James and I cried culinary uncle and hoped the procession had come to an end. And then more plates would come out. Four or five appetizers including empanadas, fried pork, a mushy polenta thing with crab, croquettes, then three kinds of rice and beans, a roast pork leg, ropa vieja, boiled yucca, four desserts: a regular flan, a tiny super rich milkless flan, a crazy dulce de leche sweet made from curdling the caramel in lime juice and bread pudding. I know I'm missing a few items.

It was almost like a cruel joke or social experiment–how much free food will a person take before "oh no, I couldn't eat another bite" turns from politeness to terror. But I'm the type who can't bear to waste food, so it was painful to leave so much behind. We didn't pace ourselves in the beginning, not realizing this was a marathon.

I can say that I feel smarter about Cuban food, and that I might not have a craving for Cuban food any time in the near future.

Son Cubano * 405 W. 14th St., New York, NY

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Oct 31

Chipotle

1/2

I really dont get the appeal of overstuffed burritos, particularly ones rife with rice. But I was looking for something quick, cheap and near Sixth Ave. and 12th St. where I would be attending a Halloween party an hour later. So, I went the taco route instead. But I wasnt aware of all the options, I dont like fast food places like Subway or those salad counters where youre on the spot and have to pick and choose. Choice is nice, but I'd rather just have some solid standards. I ended up with three sad soft tacos with some shredded pork, hot sauce, white cheese and sour cream. Each bite was dominated by the chewy creamy combo of flour tortilla and dairy, like an unbaked quesadilla. It certainly didnt kill me, and provided padding for a not-smart-for-a-Monday-night drinking binge.

Chipotle * 510 Sixth Ave., New York, NY

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Oct 28

Cedar Tavern

I never know what to call this sliver between the east and west villages, below Union Square. I think some call it Greenwich Village, but Ive always thought that was a bit more west. I do know its kind of unexciting for dinner options, maybe its the NYU proximity. I worked on Fifth Ave. and 13th St. for a few years, and it was fine for lunch, but evening meals in a three-block radius were baffling. Fourteenth Street is lined with fast food, including Manhattans only Little Caesars. There are also plenty of mediocre Asian chains: Café Spice, Lemongrass Grill, LAnnan (Indian, Thai and Vietnamese).

I wanted to eat something inexpensive and non-bad before seeing Thumbsucker at the nearby Quad Cinema. (In the ‘90s, the façade was completely mustard yellow ‘70s and then once 2000 hit they finally gave it a remodel, which amusingly bumped it up a decade. Now its shiny, glass and metal ‘80s.) Cedar Tavern was it. Burgers, fries and beer. The cheeseburger was a prime specimen, though the limp greasy fries werent up to the same level. Of course, that didnt stop me from eating all my soggy starch strips anyway. I have the worst time turning down food.

I just remembered that I had been to Cedar Tavern once before, but I didn't eat. I went for drinks with a writing class after our last session. I was put off by how our instructor (who is clearly good at self-promotion–I see her face and byline all over the place) spent the evening sucking up to one of the young students whose father was a high powered editor. Unsurprisingly, this girl had just gotten a book deal. I've kind of soured on writing classes, if that isn't obvious enough from my stunted writing style.

Cedar Tavern * University Pl., New York, NY

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Oct 19

Mercadito Grove

I'm scared of small plates, big prices kinds of places. Neither hole-in-the-wall authentic nor burritos-and-hard-shell-tacos wrong, Mercadito is akin to La Palapa. The food is pricier, creative and surprisingly good. I was with two friends researching micheladas, and our waiter kept disparaging them and trying to get us to try margaritas. Ive heard theyre good (and more expensive, certainly) but that wasnt the point. I had to have beer cocktails. We shared a guacamole sampler with three styles: traditional, mango…hmm, and a third one I cant recall. I guess I wasnt impressed. This was supplemented by tacos with carnitas, tilapia and huitalacoche (not all together). Tiny and four to a plate, they were more satisfying than you would be led to believe. By the time we left, I'd been dubbed “Chelada” by our schmoozy waiter. I suppose there are worse thing than being called a spicy beer.

Mercadito Grove * 100 Seventh Ave. S., New York, NY

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Jul 25

Yumcha

Yumcha is closed for good. That was quick. (10/10/05)

I had an Australian email pal that would use the term yum cha instead of dim sum. New Yorkers (or Oregonians, for that matter) never say yum cha either. I always figured it was a regional thing like saying jye row for gyro (to pointlessly include Aussies again, they spell this sandwich yiro and eliminate all pronunciation confusion). But I've discovered that dim sum refers to the food while yum cha is the act of sitting down to tea and snacks. Of course none of this has anything to do with the newish Chinese-esque spot in the West Village.

My birthday tends to fall on the most painfully hot days of the year. Just making it from Carroll Gardens almost induced a heatstroke that even a chilly subway car couldn't curb (even on special occasions I rarely resort to taxis). This isn't the best state to be in while trying to maintain an air of moderate attractiveness. Because of this poor timing my drivers license photo is always a sweaty atrocity and I feel like a swarthy animal while trying to enjoy a relatively fine dining experience.

I tried to cool down with a green tea martini garnished with a cucumber slice. Strong and refreshing, and staved off the sometimes tough decision of what wine to order with Asian flavor. The list was surprisingly affordable, and I ultimately ended up choosing a gruner veltliner by the glass, which came in one of those trendy stemless Riedel numbers.

The clientele was easily divided into two camps: the middle aged with reservations and young happenstance couples who were seated at the bar. While another year older, and having booked ahead, I'd prefer not to be lumped in with the staid folks. We were bridging the gap, neither twenties nor forties (which yes, I realize isn't quite middle aged).

Despite the humid weather, I never go for light flavors. Instead, I went for the rich and meaty, so not suited for the close your eyes and pretend you're in S.E. Asia stickiness. But they're the ones that put pork belly and duck breast on a summer menu, so I was only doing my duty as a diner and ordering the offerings. The pork belly was shaved into slices, atop of a tangle of spicy-tart shredded cabbage and garnished with a delicate peppery tri-leaved green.

My entrée of sweet and sour duck breast was lightly striped with hoisin sauce, while postage stamp squares of jicama and fat cubes of papaya surrounded the poultry pieces and perhaps four or five cashews. Shanghai shoots, which I swear is just bok choy, also made an appearance. The top of the plate was reserved for a dramatic swirl of papaya puree. For some reason I'd imagined green papaya, not ripe sunshiny flavors, which verged a little too close to melon for comfort (one of my few personal food biases). I was picturing more tangy than sweet. We shared a side of egg topped fried rice, runny yolked, which didn't bother me, though James found it to be discomfortingly Filipino. Hardly, it's not like there was a duck embryo inside or anything.

For dessert we shared a green tea, white chocolate crème brule, which took an awfully long time to show up at our table. This tardiness was due to an unexplained "debacle," according to our waiter. One could only imagine.

It struck me while meandering down the street for a nightcap at Blue Mill Tavern that a disproportionate number of special occasion meals end up being in the West Village. In my daily life I never set foot on those aggravatingly angled streets. Off the top of my head, I can think of past excursions to Do Hwa (before I started pointlessly keeping track of where I ate), Annisa, Jefferson…ok now I'm completely drawing a blank. Kittichai, Spice Market, Megu (and Meigas when it still existed) merely border the West Village. Maybe I should just say we end up eating special occasion meals on the west side.

Yumcha * Bedford Ave., New York, NY

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May 13

Lederhosen

German food just doesn't garner the same excitement as flashier cuisines in the city. I guess its perceived as stodgy, heavy, unhealthy. Not trendy like Japanese or perennially popular like Italian. And honestly, my knowledge doesnt extend much beyond bratwurst and schnitzel. (I'm curious about the food scene in Germany because Berlin is totally hip–they must be doing innovative things that Americans are completely obvious of. Sure, Spain gets all the press, but maybe its time for the Deutsche to do their thing.) But I'm interested, nonetheless.

Rarely setting foot into the West Village, I was trying to come up with someplace to eat and drink, with an emphasis on drinking, on a Friday night that wouldn't be obnoxious or entail the words caliente or cab. Newish Lederhosen, which hasnt gotten any press that I'm aware of, seemed to fit my needs.

The restaurant almost seems out of place for the neighborhood. When I think sauerkraut I don't think Bleecker Street. Most others don't either judging from their empty dining room. The bar up front had its stools filled, but it was a tiny bit off putting being the only food seeking customers in the picnic table and giant alpine mural back space. At one point, an after work group piled in, and after being seated, left. I think from the street you get the impression there's a back garden and this causes disappointment. Maybe German food is synonymous with beer garden.

But I loved the vibe, very down to earth, German pop music (from the '70s it sounded), friendly staff, bathrooms like it was someones home, maybe your grandmas: Kleenex box, air freshener can, pink cotton towel with a butterfly appliqu on a silver wall-mounted loop (the mens had a blue towel). Definitely not trendy or trying too hard. I'm not sure who the target audience is, which makes me worry that this place wont last.

The food is straightforward, traditional and reasonably priced. Usual suspects like sauerbraten and wiener schnitzel are on the menu. Almost everything is under $12, and many items well under that mark. I had a bratwurst on a roll with shared potato pancake and spaetzle on the side. Simple, carby and good.

Lederhosen * 39 Grove St., NewYork, NY

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Oct 29

Suenos

1/2

I swear the older I get the more susceptible I become to suggestion. For the
past couple years I've meant to check out bakeries offering Day of the Dead
treats, and every year I'm either distracted or forgetful. This is pretty
sad considering three of these years I lived in one of NYCs largest Mexican
neighborhoods, Sunset Park. It wasn't until I read a recent
Manhattan-centric New York Times round up of restaurants with special Day of
the Dead menus that I became motivated to take an interest.

For no particular reason I'm kind of so-so on upscale Mexican
restaurants, not that I've tried that many of them. But Suenos had always
sounded interesting to me, maybe because of the youngish female chef. This
was really an excuse to try a new-to-me restaurant that I'd probably never
get around to otherwise. The whole thing was last minute, James called
Friday afternoon for seating that same evening, which was why we ended up
with such an early reservation. Dining at 6pm on a Friday in Manhattan makes
you a weirdo, I know that, but sometimes you have no choice.

We chose from the prix fixe menu with drink pairings. I had seafood
tacos with ancho chile tortillas and a more standard margarita (as opposed
to Jamess “smoky” version that accompanied his duck flauta. I
didnt think there was anything wrong with the waitress emphasizing the
tequilas smokiness though James seemed to find this hilarious and
pretentious) and pork loin stuffed with apples, canela, pine nuts, and
salsa, paired with sangria. Dessert was the only course that actually
included one of the traditional items I was interested in, but it was so
heavy: toasted day of the dead bread, candied pumpkin seeds and chocolate
atole with crema de mescal. It wouldve made a nice breakfast. I was glad to
have sampled the cuisine, I enjoyed the meal, though next year there will be
no excuse for not branching out.

Suenos* 311 W. 17th St., New
York, NY

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Aug 6

Galanga

I reviewed Galanga for the Time Out NY Eating & Drinking Guide earlier this
spring, but I don't have the edited version yet and don't feel the need to
rehash. (Here
it is.) So, the consensus was that it's stylish, full of potential and
better than your average Ameri-Thai. But you really have to ask for spice
and not let the presence of chopsticks put you off (that has always been a
serious red flag for me). I wouldn't go out of my way for it, like
Sripraphai, but I'd take it over the gazillion mediocre Thai places plaguing
my neighborhood (which isn't the W. Village, so I've only been three times).

Galanga * W. Fourth St., New York, NY

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Posts from the ‘West Village’ Category

Las Ramblas

5 Ninth

Son Cubano

Chipotle

Cedar Tavern

Mercadito Grove

Yumcha

Lederhosen

Suenos

Galanga

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