Posts from the ‘Shovel Time’ Category

Aug 4

Elvie’s Turo Turo

Filipino dishes almost feel like comfort food, but that's silly since I'm
not Filipino. Growing up I had two good Filipino friends, and I'd tag along
to odd parties and what not at the Phil-Am (I'm not sure if that was the
real title, if it was some official society or what. The Phil-Am was this
small random building in SE Portland where they'd hold dances and parties)
just to eat the food. I was impressed by the sheer quantity–piles and piles
of pancit, whole pigs (never forgot the pig head), marinades using Dr.
Pepper as a secret ingredient and gummy gray-purple desserts. This was
living. Never mind that I was the only white girl there, and never danced
when I think you were supposed to dance (I was taller than all the guys
anyway), I was there to ogle the spread.

It never really struck me as restaurant food, and as far as I know,
Portland didn't have any Filipino restaurants. I rarely tried many main
dishes, i.e. the soupy stuff Lema's parents and grandparents ate. It's not
that I wouldn't, but they told me I wouldn't like it and I do recall a
sample of something eerily bitter (eggplant or okra perhaps) and tinged with
fish sauce that didn't have me coming back for more. I stuck with bbq,
lumpia, pancit and those gelatinous desserts in pans.

We used to call the purple, gummy stuff, Grimace, not so much because it
made you smile but because it shared its hue with the large peculiar McDonald's
character that I think at one point was associated with milkshakes.

Living in NYC I have Filipino food at my fingertips, yet I always eschew
it in favor of other Asian options like Thai or Vietnamese. I guess it
is different–meatier, stewier, blander or something. James has some
mental block with the food, probably due to his (half-Filipino) mother's
disdain for the cuisine. I think in her eyes it represents who knows what,
but definitely not something refined.

Elegant dining experiences have their place, but pointing and picking
can be good too. James only lives two blocks from Elvie's, yet it wasn't
until I was out alone one afternoon that I stopped in for the first time.
I'm always a bit intimidated by the pointing and choosing. I don't want to
look dumb by not knowing what something is, and I also hate asking
questions. It's a dilemma, but it's also a bit of fun to just rely on your
eyes and go by instinct.

At Elvie's I felt like I was still at a family party, ready for
unabashed gorging. Of course money was to exchange hands so I had to keep my
eagerness under control and opted for a bbq beef skewer, pancit and chicken
adobo. I couldn't pass up the ube (purple yam) goodies, gooey strips of
brilliant purple chewiness coated with sugar and coconut flakes. As a kid, I
always thought they artificially dyed the dessert, especially since I
noticed intense food color, neon pinks and greens that couldn't possibly be
natural, in friends' cupboards. I've since learned that ube is truly purple,
and nothing makes me happier than unreal colored food that's real. (8/4/01)

Elvie's Turo-Turo * 214 First Ave., New York, NY

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Jul 25

Peter Luger

Beef, it's what's for dinner. At least when it comes to the special
occasions in my life. I've always felt a little out of the loop, since it
seems like everyone in the world has eaten a Peter Luger at some point. It's
a local institution to be sure.

I was definitely into the idea of it, though at first I was a little
intimidated since the waiting/bar area was wall-to-wall men in khakis. But I
quickly got into the old-school surroundings, ordered a whiskey sour and
even snuck my fingers into the sauce boat while perusing the menu (which
screams novice–they ask if you want a menu, assuming you know exactly what
you're there for)

I opted for the shrimp cocktail instead of the onion and tomato salad
that appeared to be de rigeur. Steak for two followed, and a side of creamed
spinach. The fries seemed like overkill–maybe next time. The meat was
medium rare and fine as can be. You could feel years being shaved from your
life as the waiter ladled the rich pan juices over the steak. But birthdays
are about coming to terms with your mortality anyway, right? The meal closed
with a shared slice of pecan pie coupled with an entire bowl of whipped
cream. No joke, it was almost as impressive as the meat itself.

It was creepy fun watching the power salesmen at the communal table next
to us. Who's to say what their actual profession was, but a sleazy internet
vibe was definitely in the air. Company parties are a strange ritual, not
that I would know first hand as I've only been a part of miserly start-ups
gone (going) bad. A pizza party would be asking too much in my case.

The evening was satisfying, yet with that all said, I'm now going to be
an ungrateful wretch for a moment. I don't go in for spendy, overhyped
clothes, neighborhoods, clubs and the like, but when it comes to food I
don't mind indulging my fancy every now and then, especially when it comes
to special occasions. Don't get me wrong, I was raised on a strict meat and
potatoes diet (nary a fresh vegetable graced my plate), but after Peter
Luger for my birthday and Churrascaria
Plataforma for Valentine's Day, I wouldn't say no to something
more…er, refined next time 'round. I'm a lady, dammit. Mabye 30
will herald the aesthetic experience I'm seeking. (7/25/01)

On a whim, James called for reservations the Sunday before Independence
Day, and was surprised by a 7:45 quote. However, when we showed up he was
not on the list, the host scoffed at the fact that we thought we would could
get a seat a mere four days in advance, and my blood started boiling. Then
they found his name on a waiting list. We weren't told about a waiting list
on the phone, or why would we have bothered showing up? Anyway, we were
seated, as the place was not filled to capacity. Steak is steak at Peter
Luger. The new discovery was the grilled, thick, perfect Canadian bacon
served in strips as an appetizer. I thought about it for days afterward.
(7/4/02)

PeterLuger * 185 Broadway,
Brooklyn, NY

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Jul 21

Chili’s

I know it's hard to believe, but I've never eaten at this fine establishment. Of course I?m a big fan of the chain restaurant, but Chili's just never seems to be in the right place at the right time. After a spell at Ikea, I wasn't sufficiently traumatized so I thought I'd throw in a little Jersey Gardens Mall for good measure. And since it appeared that the Rainforest Caf had gone bust (soon to be replaced by a wacky, colorful eatery called Kahunaville), Chili's seemed to be one of the few non-food court options. But let me clarify this, it was not a pure Chili's, but a Chili's Too. This was a bit of a letdown since I'd been hoping for the full experience.

I'm afraid that I was exposed to some pared down menu for harried shoppers and their children. I did not see any of the fancier items I know exist like Margarita Grilled Chicken or Skillet Queso, but thank goodness the Southwestern Eggrolls and Awesome Blossom were present. Actually I just had a Ground Peppercorn Burger and a water, as I was so dismayed by the abbreviated menu and surroundings. Mall restaurants don't always make the grade–just placing them in New Jersey is not enough.

Chili's* 651 Kapkowski Rd., Elizabeth, NJ

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Jul 6

Vaux

I've started hitting the Fifth Ave. strip in Park Slope lately, and it
scares me a bit. It's hard to help since it's the closest neighborhood to me
(I don't really live in a neighborhood–just lots of fast food, gas
stations, car washes and porn shops). I don't know, it's just very adult,
and not necessarily in a good way. The new Blue Ribbon had just opened next
door to Vaux, and I was into trying it, but just not this particular
evening.

My shared seafood sausage was alright. My pork loin with mashed potatoes
and haricot vert was also OK. Everything was adequate. No more, no less. I
guess that's Park Slope for you.

Vaux * 278 Fifth Ave., Brooklyn, NY

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Jun 29

Belmondo

I don't have a strong opinion on Belmondo one way or the other. It was
sparsely populated for a Friday night in the East Village, but that could've
had something to do with their lack of air conditioning. It was just
someplace new to try. It's bistro food, but somehow I felt like I shouldn't
be eating, and especially not eating the steak frites (though I ordered them
anyway). Maybe it's just the East Village syndrome (which isn't as bad as
Williamsburg as far as androgyny goes). I'm not always in the mood to be
surrounded by girls (women?) with little boy bodies who couldn't possibly be
eating red meat or fried potatoes to maintain that appearance. Just order
mojitos if you want to fit in. Or get really radical and eat something. It's
up to you.(6/29/01)

Belmondo * 98 Avenue B, New York, NY

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Jun 19

Banjara

It's right near all the Indian hubbub on Sixth Street, yet manages to stand
on its own. Maybe it's Banjara's corner location that keeps it from blending
in with the rest though I'd say it stands out due to its inventive menu. You
won't find many of the Indian standbys you've grown accustomed to, as was
demonstrated by the obnoxious pregnant woman sitting behind me who was
loudly harassing the waiter about where the curry was. Who would go to
Banjara for dime a dozen curry when you can sample items like duphakt, which
is sort of like an Indian chicken pot pie (you don't have to get chicken).
The tasty eggplant-wrapped, coconutty, grilled shrimp is also worth an
appetizer mention. The only baffling part of the meal was at dessert, trying
to figure out how they got such a huge lemon to stuff sorbet into. Does
fruit expand when frozen? The thing was practically the size of a
grapefruit.

Banjara * 97 First Ave., New York, NY

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Jun 15

Radio Perfecto

I'd met friends for drinks (well, beer and wine since they don't have a real
liquor license) here before and they didn't seem that impressed with the
food. Overpriced and small, or something along those lines. But I felt like
checking out Ave. B and this place seemed like the lesser of many evils.

I'll admit that the Cubano-style empanada starter was on the tiny side,
but nicely flaky and great with the tangy jicama (or whatever it was) slaw.
My roasted half chicken with pesto and fries was more than substantial. I
had leftovers galore. James insists the chicken pot pie was less than
filling, and then proceeded to order shrimp dumplings at Forbidden City like
45 min. later. It looked o.k. to me, but maybe the roast chicken was a
better choice. Topped with sangria and key lime pie, I thought the meal did
the trick. Nothing to write home about, but reasonably priced and not
completely blah as many east village choices.

RadioPerfecto * 190 Ave. B, New York, NY

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Jun 13

Cosmic Cantina

Blech. Maybe this place is cosmic. I hesitate to call it a cantina (that
word always conjures up the kooky Star Wars scene). I do know it's certainly
not Mexican food. I only went because it's one of three new restaurants
that's popped-up on James' corner in the past few weeks, and it looked like
the one that would best lend itself to take-out–I wasn't up for anything
spendy, fussy or time consuming.

They can take their "California-style" burritos and shove 'em where the
sun don't shine. Any place with tofu sour cream, fat-free everything and
burritos with names like Sarah and Jessica, is wrong. So wrong. Beans
should be refried, and that means lard and plenty of it. There's no way
around it. Real burritos are fat-laden and that's why they're so damn good
(and impossible to find in this town).

It's clearly geared towards the NYU contingent who think it's cool to
blow $8 on a mediocre, supposedly healthy burrito and drink specially brewed
teas and the like. Wait till they're footing their own bills and it'll be
back to Hot Pockets and Diet Coke. (6/13/01)

Cosmic Cantina * 105 Third Ave., New York, NY

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May 26

Outback Steakhouse Edgewater

1/2 Yay, finally. I was thwarted before, at this doozy in an Edgewater, NJ Target parking lot, waving-distance from the upper west side. This is one of the few big chain restaurants that I've never had the opportunity to enjoy.

Since steak is in their name, I felt I should order one. But I didn't pay close attention to the menu and, ended up being talked into one that wasn't steaky so much as roasty and came with a bowl of au jus. Boy, that baby was big. 16 oz. I think. After those Kookaburra wings and Caesar salad, I could seriously could only eat about a third of it. But the next day, fried up with eggs, it made quite a breakfast.

Part of the fun of chain restaurants is calculating the timing between drink order, when the salad and bread will comes, to when the main dish will arrive, to when they'll ask if you want a refill. It's all so wrong, but so accurate. How do they do it? We practically had it timed to the minute from ordering to when the food came out.

Outback Steakhouse makes for a fun afternoon excursion. At 4pm on a Sat., it was our first meal of the day, but clearly many were doing that odd early dinner thing that families and old folks seem to love. But maybe they're on to something. The last time I tried to eat there, it was around 6pm and the projected hour wait (they know their timing so there was no doubt it'd be a single minute earlier) was just too much for me.

You may be tempted to sit on benches outside and enjoy the view of the Hudson River, but the sludge and stink from the little inlet could change your mind. When I think cement shoes, this is exactly the sort scenery I imagine. (5/26/01)

Why are Outbacks so popular? Who waits over an hour for Aussie chain restaurant steak and Bloomin' Onions? I do. I don't know, I can't help myself. What's more baffling about the experience is their choice of music, which you become acutely aware of while waiting hungrily for such long periods of time. It's an '80s mix, smattered with Michael Jackson and Bruce Springsteen standards, but primarily consists of tunes of the mildly "alternative" persuasion. Old pre-radio Cure "The Walk," Talk Talk, The Smiths "Ask" and the like. This is my youth, it might be the programming director's youth, but it's certainly not the youth of the average tri-state Outback customer. I could be wrong, but I just don't see the Puerto Rican families with five toddlers and stereotypical Jersey couples, complete with crispy curls for girls and pleated khakis for guys, who appear my age since they're married with children, but are probably in their early-mid 20s, and black guys drinking foofy colorful drinks (what's up with that? I've spotted this a lot lately) listening to this music 15-20 years ago. For a true experience head to the restrooms or stand outside the front entrance where it's piped twice as loud as inside. A little tipsy from my giant Foster's, I almost busted a gut while peeing to the sounds of Kim Wilde's, "Kids in America." Am I Outback's intended demographic? Because I kind of liked it. (6/15/02)

OutbackSteakhouse * 539 River Rd., Edgewater,NJ

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May 25

Friend House

I don't know what's going on at that condemned crack hotel corner of 13th
and 3rd, but all of a sudden there's three shiny new restaurants. There goes
the neighborhood. And as it's James's block, we were hoping for a winner we
could call our local.

Friend House certainly has the name. And who could resist the promise of
an "Asian bistro"? The makings are all there, complete with cute, funky
neo-Asian decor that youngsters dig. But darn it, the menu's pretty blah.
It's comprised of typical Chinese dishes with a sprinkling of Japanese
offerings. Well, the sushi bar might have promise–the eel and spicy tuna
rolls were interesting. I wanted to know if it was run by Chinese or
Japanese as an ordering clue. I'm hoping Japanese, because the greatest hits
like kung pao and moo shu weren't breaking any new ground. They had some
casseroles and hot pots, but I was hoping for something more along the lines
of Funky Broome. Where are the lychees? Boiled frogs? Taro roots? I can get
cashew chicken any ol' time. However. I'll probably give it another go and
sample more of the sushi. (5/25/01)

I liked it better this time. In fact I was pretty happy. Probably
because we stuck to small items like dumplings, sushi and mini Peking duck.
I'm a sucker for snack-sized portions in abundance. (3/2/02)

Friend House * 99 Third Ave., New York, NY

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Posts from the ‘Shovel Time’ Category

Elvie’s Turo Turo

Peter Luger

Chili’s

Vaux

Belmondo

Banjara

Radio Perfecto

Cosmic Cantina

Outback Steakhouse Edgewater

Friend House

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