Posts from the ‘Jackson Heights’ Category

Nov 17

Eaten, Barely Blogged: Sweets, Shots, Samosas

Arepa Lady Desserts can be a sticking point at otherwise fine restaurants. Post-tacos, curries or dosas, the sit-down Arepa Lady is fine for a sweet nightcap and open until 1am on weekends, to boot. A naturally sweet arepa de queso can be doctored by a number of squeeze-your-own sauces like pineapple, condensed milk and dulce de leche. Share with a friend at the bar if you’re too full, and if you’re lucky you may walk into one giant birthday party. If I understood correctly, the entire space, which isn’t saying much as it’s the size of a bedroom, was celebrating the Arepa Lady’s daughter’s birthday. We cracked open the leftover BYOB beers from an earlier meal at Kitchen 79 and were gifted a few shots of aguardiente. Salud!

London Lennie’s is so awesome I may have to dedicate two entries, one for food and one for the bar. Queens will never be allowed to be called “The New Brooklyn” as long as dollar oysters remain scarce. Offhand, Astor Room and London Lennie’s are the only two borough restaurants I’m aware of with such happy hour deals (I’m all ears, if you know more) and both require a bus ride. No one in Brooklyn, by which I mean Williamsburg, the epicenter of dollar oysters, refers to them as “Buck-a-Shuck” either. In Rego Park, they are available Monday through Friday, 4pm-6pm at the bar. On this occasion the oysters, just a little sweet and saline, were Rocky Reef from Long Island. You may also want big, fat battered fried shrimp, crab dip and oyster shooters. You may also be bought a shot of tequila when your new bar friends find out it’s your dining partner’s 40th birthday. There have been a disproportionate amount of shots consumed since I moved to Queens last month.

Raja Sweets & Fast Food Even though Jackson Heights is known for Indian food (I see the Jackson Diner is doing a pop-up at Diamond Bar?) it’s not what the neighborhood excels at. Neither are places to pass time leisurely. Initially, I popped into the reopened Jackson Heights Food Court for a snack to kill time while my apartment was being taken over by wallpaperers (my dining room and entryway kind of rule now) but no one behind the steam table would make eye contact or take my order. To its credit, it did give me that foreign dining feeling where I start questioning myself, “Am I not doing this right?” Carb coma-inducing chaat, more like two dinners than a snack, can be had for $4.99 down the street, so it’s all fine. Instead of being broken up to resemble a lettuce-free chopped salad, this samosa chat contained two nearly intact potato-filled specimens tossed with the requisite chickpeas, spicy sauce, yogurt drizzles and a slew of cilantro and raw chopped onions. Just the right balance of crispy-crunchy and mushy, punched up with heat and an optional diy swirl of sweet-tart tamarind sauce (not really chutney–it looks like ruddy sweet and sour sauce). I’ve had a few chutneys recently that are nearly dead ringers for pico de gallo. A Russian woman at a party last weekend claimed Russian food was like Mexican, which is one of nuttiest things I’ve ever heard. If you said Indian, I’d entertain your argument.

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Nov 4

Shovel Time: Kitchen 79

That there are so many Queens Thai restaurants that one can focus exclusively on the super-authentic and semi-authentic is an amazing thing. Brooklyn Thai was kind of a struggle in comparison. My sensibilities are still so offended by Joya on Court Street that when I hear that commercial where people travel to the Upper East Side from Pennsylvania to eat at “the Jaiya restaurant” my head always jerks. But enough of my petty culinary grudges.

Kitchen 79 plays both sides, super and semi, with a slant towards pleasing others—and the surrounding neighborhood, which is not particularly Thai. No one will snicker if you order pad thai or ask for chopsticks. You can also ask for a caddy of chile flakes and chile-spiked condiments to doctor your food to your salty-sour-spicy liking, Thai-style, plus you will be taken seriously, not merely humored if you say you like hot food, which is sadly now Sripraphai’s M.O.

Which audience this newish restaurant that took over Arunee’s old spot is aiming for isn’t fully clear. The interior is all sleek black-and-white with a bar that’s still non-functional (BYOB while you can) and contains gothic Lolita meets steampunk flourishes like a clock topped by what I think is a ram’s head and featuring a faucet “pouring” liquid in a changing rainbow of colors.

I’ve eaten there enough times (thrice in person–and am waiting for delivery this very second) to determine that it’s safer to pick dishes that sound more traditional. Salads have been consistently pleasing (I haven’t ventured into the soups yet, but have a good feeling about them) while more ambitious dishes, some crossing the $20 mark, reach too far.

I don’t like seeing baby corn, carrots and cauliflower florets, for instance. It was the crispy onions in the description that sold me on the tamarind duck, which was a little overcooked and too sweet with a sticky glaze that tasted more Chinese-American. Speaking of, I just noticed crab Rangoon called geoy hor cheese on the lunch-only menu, so you know what I’ll be eating next time.

The stewed pork knuckle in a classic pad ka prao (chile and basil) preparation, though, was gooey in a good way–and spicy just as requested.

A light, citrusy seafood salad of mussels and grilled shrimp and squid, thick with lemongrass and celery leaves? Yes.

Yum sam gluer grob, which combines battered squid and shrimp with fried pork and cashews? More emphatically, yes. This salad is richer and does that fresh-meets-fried thing that Thai food excels at.

The profusion of lettuce leaves in the salads is all-American, really, and I’m not sure if broccoli belongs in a pile of drunken noodles. Neither touch qualifies as a buzzkill exactly; they’re just tiny representations of Kitchen 79’s tweaks.

Kitchen 79 * 37-70 79th St., Jackson Heights, NY

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Oct 15

Goodie Obsession: All the Empanadas at La Nueva Bakery (and More)

Empanadas appear to be having a moment and for no discernible reason. First Gothamist, then Serious Eats…ok, that’s just two. Maybe it’s my own recent empanada bender that’s clouding my logic. I just ate two less than an hour ago. I suppose empanadas are pretty evergreen. (Even I did a round-up another lifetime ago.)

This weekend, with the help of an out-of-towner and stranger-now-acquaintance, I tried every empanada at La Nueva Bakery, plus two giant guava and cheese pastries, the triangular slices not the standalones. Honestly, I couldn’t even rattle off all 12 iterations, some finger-crimped and doughy, others golden and sealed with the tines of a fork, a few able to stand up on their own while most need to lie down. We didn’t dissect them; we just ate them.

There was definitely beef, pork, chicken, tuna, spinach, ham and cheese, and vegetable. Not all were Argentine/Uruguayan; the cafe also has a Colombian influence, not surprising considering the immediate neighborhood. The red salsa, though only mildly spicy and spiked with thick garlic slices, doesn’t strike me as very Argentine. It’s not a culture traditionally in love with hot food. You won’t even find black pepper on the table in Buenos Aires.

A pit stop at Mama’s Empanadas turned up more overtly Colombian pastries with some American flourishes. I mean, this is the mini-chain known for its Elvis (peanut butter and banana) empanada. This bunch is more motley with a mac and cheese, Hawaiian (I will never not order ham, cheese and pineapple if given the opportunity) another cheese and guava where all the cheese was on one end like a bad burrito, a yellowy corn flour empanada filled with shredded beef, and a beef and pork papa rellena.

Originally, I planned to add Mexican into the mix but imported chain Pastes Kikos was still closed at 1pm due to an issue with the oven. You know, because seven doughy items per person just isn’t enough.

The best? It’s all subjective. Either you prefer baked or fried, green or red sauce, traditional or otherwise. I’m a fan of the standard baked Argentine beef empanada, but must concede that the mac and cheese was pretty good despite never eating mac and cheese (I’ll always be a sucker for anything Hawaiian, though). La Nueva’s Colombian-style fried cornmeal version stuffed with pernil was a standout. The surprise was the moist, chunky tuna, which I’ve always avoided. It wasn’t dried out even after reheating.

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Oct 7

Eaten, Barely Blogged: Queens For a Week

I have now been a official Jackson Heights resident for exactly one week. It’s good getting back to my chowhoundy roots. Of course, it’s hardly uncharted territory; this neighborhood and environs have been well tread by Joe DiStefano, Dave Cook, Jeff Orlick and Robert Sietsema, among others. And yes, there are even some women on the scene–just tonight there was an event featuring a discussion between two Queens cookbook authors, Andrea Lynn and Meg Cotner.

I’ll do what I can. Right now that means eating everywhere within walking distance. I’m afraid I’m turning into a bachelor (also that I’m gaining a pound a day in baked goods and ghee.) The newness will wear off soon enough, real fall weather will kick in, and I’ll eventually settle back into home cooking. Maybe?

Saw Shack It’s Chinese takeout with rough wood beams instead of primary colored Formica that would feel more at home on Smith Street or Vanderbilt Avenue. On the counter, there’s water chilling in a giant spigoted Mason jar with cucumbers and limon (sometimes cantaloupe) but you can still get a can of soda with your sesame chicken combo meal in a Styrofoam container. Minus the mock meats, there’s nothing radically different about this menu; it’s not upscale or elevated. The pork in the double cooked pork tastes like pork, the sauce isn’t sweet or greasy–in fact, it’s spicy as was asked for–and includes nice thin slices of that smoked tofu that looks like gouda. Pink and green flecks imply there is actually scallion and crab (or at least krab) in the rangoon. You’ll get duck sauce, and also an earthy chile oil that I want to believe is homemade. It’s mostly shredded cabbage in the spring roll, though a meaty strip of shiitake also lurks. This is not a destination restaurant, just a boon for locals.

La Gran Uruguaya I accidentally wandered here first, thinking it was La Nueva, the more storied bakery. Both are equally busy and at least on the surface have similar racks of baked goods that would take me months to get through if I tried one item a day. The beef empanadas were fresh from the oven (otherwise, you can have them warmed), super flaky and more rich than you’d expect from a baked version. For me, anything stuffed with dulce de leche is dangerous because I like my sweets sickly sweet, and that sums up most of what’s on offer (except the naked, dry-looking twisted things closest to the register)

La Nueva Bakery So far, I’ve only sampled a ham and cheese empanada that seemed all shredded ham, and a classic beef empanada that was heavier on the olives and lighter on filling than La Gran Uruguaya’s. The crust was also more bready than flaky, which may be more correct. I will have to do more taste testing.

Rajbhog Sweets I said I like my sweets sweet, right? Half a pound of mithai equals more or less six pieces (pistachio burfi, those round syrupy things called cutlets and a mystery silver-leaved white oblong stuffed with what I think is sweetened cheese), enough for a family or enough for me to finish in less than 12 hours. While senselessly watching Requiem For a Dream, I saw myself in Ellen Burstyn’s character caressing her box of chocolates. And we know how she ends up. The only remedy will be if I stay in my part of the neighborhood and avoid the Indian section.

El Chivito d’Oro I was going to marvel at how much food you get for $38 until I realized that on my last visit the parrillada for two (teaming with short ribs, sweetbreads, sausage, morcilla, skirt steak and veal) plus two sides cost $10 less. Ok, that was eight years ago, so it’s still a marvel. The meat will probably be well-done. No one will likely ask if you wanted it otherwise. If you’re not fussy, a $19 bottle of Malbec isn’t a bad addition either. Fries and salad, my extras, share billing with less South American rice and beans and tostones. A lot of people order the potato salad. A very long Happy Birthday song might be played. On weekend nights, this and its nearby competitors, all have lines out the door. If you haven’t set up your kitchen yet, you will have leftover meat to eat for a few days and that’s a good thing.

Pollos a la Brasa Mario Somehow there are three of this mini-chain in a ten-block radius. There’s certainly more than rotisserie chicken, but I’ve never ventured deep into the Colombian canon (that will have to change soon). The soupy beans (not pictured) are seriously porky and kind of amazing.

Kitchen 79 I will say more later (I’ve been twice already) but for now this strangely glossy Thai restaurant is an area standout. You can have your pork knuckle, fish maw and wild boar or bring friends who’ll both order curries with tofu and eat them like entrees and it will be ok (love you guys). Despite the bar with taps advertising Yuengling and Sapporo, it’s still BYOB.

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Feb 5

Eaten, Barely Blogged: Crickets, Chicken Combos, Salted Caramel

La Antojeria Popular We'll always have the
hole-in-the-wall taquerias (and despite what West Coasters argue, NYC has
plenty of Mexican food that doesn't suck) even as flashier entrants come in
waves. La Esquina to Hecho in Dumbo to Tacombi, and more recently El Toro
Blanco, Salvation Taco and La Antojeria Popular, the latter being the newest offering from the
owners of Taka Taka, the Mexican conveyor
belt sushi restaurant in Soho. As the name implies, the menu is made up of
antojitos, a.k.a. little snacks or "Mexican tapas," some more
traditional than others. Pictured is a sampling (gratis, in the name of full disclosure)
that includes the Guerrero (raw tuna cubes and mango tossed in serrano
mayonnaise on a jicama round), Michoacan (chicken in mole sauce with toasted
sesame seeds and crema on a corn tostada), Zacatecas (sirloin, salsa verde,
chihuahua cheese, also on a corn tostada) and Tamaulipas (steak, beans, chihuahua
cheese, pasilla mayonnaise–mayo is definitely a thing–in a pita sort of like
a taco arabe). For obvious reasons the Oaxaca topped with crickets–a little salty and chewy, not so
scary–and avocado on a blue corn tortilla, has gotten the most press. There is
also a small selection of ceviches and sides like the Distrito Federal (a mix
of shrimp, tilapia and beef) and Morelos, which are esquites (corn, mayonnaise,
chile, lime topped with a square of queso fresco). Desserts include a flan with
cajeta and increasingly omnipresent La Newyorkina paletas.

Pio Pio My favorite Peruvian chain. Ok, maybe NYC's
only Peruvian chain (I guess there's similarly named Pio Pio Riko too?). The
Matador Combo is $34 well spent, and minus the hot dog fries there's nothing terribly offbeat about Peruvian food, despite it winning the top "exotic" spot among US consumers surveyed about Latin American cuisine. Of course you get the chicken, burnished,
garlicky and salty (I think soy sauce is a not-so-secret ingredient) and no
matter how many birds they churn out (it will never not be crowded on a weekend night) still
moist, plus salchipapas, everyone's favorite french fry and wiener dish, avocado
salad, rice, beans, tostones, and the all-important green sauce (mayonnaise
being the not-at-all-secret ingredient). I like the metal bucket crammed full
of Heinz mustard and ketchup, even if I don't what the condiments are meant to go with.

Big Gay Ice Cream Shop So, I've never been. Some
people think I don't like desserts, which isn't true at all. I just rarely go
to sweets-only shops and never patronize food trucks or street fairs or carnivals or whevever it is that sugar is sold in multiple formats. The Salty
Pimp with its chocolate-dipped vanilla ice cream and salted dulce de leche is
pretty perfect, and they even offer to put it in a dish for you, a flourish I
like because I'm fussy (yes, a fork-and-knife pizza-eater). Don't go after 11pm,
though, if you want something more elaborate like the Monday Sundae (similar
flavors to the Salty Pimp but in a bigger Nutella-lined waffle cone and
smothered in whipped cream) because they won't make it. And there was more of
that Fany Gerson and her La Newyorkina paletas–she gets around.

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Sep 18

El Anzuelo Fino

Even though I feel like they (whoever they are) have been saying it years, Peruvian is supposed to be the hot new cuisine (I’m torn, because as much as I love Peruvian food, I was hoping for Filipino to take that honor). Maybe so. And I’ll be waiting to see how NYC responds to the big, modern version at La Mar Cebicheria opening this week.

Meanwhile, I went small. I’m such a slave to Pio Pio that I never give any of the other Peruvian options on Northern Boulevard a chance. How many matador combos can one person eat before branching out? El Anzuelo Fino needed trying (El Sol does too).

Gastón Acurio's curl-topped face was all over a travel/cooking show playing on the television in the front dining room. I wonder how much of a crossover audience will be shared between this small, Jackson Heights corner restaurant and La Mar Cebicheria?

Ceviche mixto is always an accurate benchmark. Here, cubes of raw firm fish, likely corvina, shrimp, octopus rings and a single green-lipped mussel were the mix. This is the only restaurant where I’ve been asked about spice level and given a dish with a genuinely hot kick in addition to the lime’s tartness, which by itself can be one-note.

With fish hook in the name and a fish waiter logo, napkin draped over one fin and a plate of food on the other, nearly as cute as Pio Pio’s chick in clogs, seafood was in order. Red snapper seemed like too much for one, and my concession, one of the many corvina dishes, was not exactly light. The filet is fried and comes sculpted around a center of shrimp, mussels, and octopus (cooked ceviche mixto, essentially) in a creamy, lightly spicy sauce (that’s even better with a few squirts of the hot green sauce in a squeeze bottle that thankfully you don’t have to ask for). Surrounded by logs of yuca (and served with default white rice) this golden mound is not dainty, but the inevitable leftovers hold up well. Sure, I’ll eat a ball of seafood for breakfast.

Or you can order a sirloin steak, typically thin and well-done (ask for it rarer). Bistek a lo pobre with maduros, rice, fries and a runny-yolked egg is like breakfast for dinner.

My original plan was a nightcap at Amaru, the newish pisco bar from Pio Pio (and in their old space) but after stiff two-for-one cocktails at The Astor Room and half of a pitcher of sangria, I wasn’t feeling the need for a Rocoto Sour—at least not with the two bouncers out front and thumping bass trying to escape the closed doors. Maybe on a weeknight.

El Anzuelo Fino * 86-01 Northern Blvd., Jackson Heights, NY

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May 10

Taqueria Coatzingo

When stopping in a taqueria, passing up the namesake offering isn't always easy. Sometimes I’ll get swayed by a torta if I’m in the mood for something more substantial (ok, that’s more cemita territory). Entrees? I really need to explore more.

Luckily, Taqueria Coatzingo has a few pages’ worth to choose from. For a short list, just look to the plastic stand-up display of “specials” (I’m not convinced this ever changes) on the table. I started at the top and ordered puerco adobo.

Yes, this deep crimson sauce speckled with ancho chile seeds is the same thick liquid that surrounds chipotles in those little cans. This version is deeper and fresher with none of that metallic tanginess you often get from preserved food. I wasn’t expecting ribs since other dishes specifically mentioned costillas and this simply advertised pork. These three lengths with tender meat barely clinging to the bone were just right.

Soupy refried beans and rice on the side. Mexican rice doesn't do much for me; maybe I'm just prejudiced against the green bean, corn and carrot medley hiding in the grains. I did like diamond-cut wedge of mild queso fresco, though.

Bistec Mexicana, which I’m assuming is named for its tomato, onion, jalapeno color resemblance to the Mexican flag. This is from the regular menu.

The only downside had nothing to do with the food. I was seated in a shallow nook with the flat screen TV directly above my head (it did cast an unnatural glow on my plates) so I couldn’t watch 12 Corazones, my new favorite dating show. (I discovered it last weekend in Puerto Rico—yes, I laze about hotels, watching TV while on vacation. I also sleep in so late I always have to start my day with lunch.) Then again, there are worse things than distraction-free dining.

Previously on Taqueria Coatzingo.

Taqueria Coatzingo * 7605 Roosevelt Ave., Jackson Heights, NY

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Jan 31

Urubamba

As I’ve often suspected, a Queens Under $25 review don’t mean shit. Initially, I was concerned about crowds (and worried that I’d look a mindless follower—I swear I suggested this place the previous week) but when I arrived with a group of six a little after 9pm three days after Urubamba made the Times, (possibly the first instance of a food blogger in this slot) there were only a handful of tables occupied. Sripraphai appears to be the only restaurant in that borough that can draw a genuine crowd from all parts of the city.

Urubamba is the bizarro Kampuchea. You order eight dishes and show up with three six-packs (Budweiser, Negro Modelo and St. Pauli Girl, oddly each female counterpart knew exactly which brew was chosen by their significant other. I easily pegged James for the St Pauli Girl) and only leave $20 lighter. It’s extremely rare that I am shocked over a bill being so low.

This Jackson Heights excursion was to meet up with a former Spanish class taker who’d recently bought a co-op in the neighborhood, a current classmate who still lives in South Brooklyn, and both women’s husbands. I’d like to believe that our Peruvian group dinner wasn’t as dorky as a high school Spanish class field trip (not that I would know first hand—I took French and we never left the building).

The roast chicken was awesome, which shouldn’t have been surprising since I’ve never had bad Peruvian pollo a la brasa (I still don’t understand why the West Village Pardo’s morphed into a cevicheria). The salty (soy sauce is the not-so-secret ingredient) crispy skin and juicy meat never fail to win diners over. Don't forget the green sauce.

The chicken combo came with everyone’s (ok, my) favorite junk food mashup, salchipapas.

As well as a pitcher of chicha morada, a scarlet cinnamony beverage that gets its pretty color from purple corn. Or maybe just a powered mix, who knows? I was recently informed that in Spain chicha means love handles, though I suspect this isn’t true in the Andes.

Ceviche ties with rotisserie chicken for best Peruvian specialty. This is the mixto with shrimp and octopus. I like the crunch offered by the dried corn kernels. Sometimes the chunky sweet potato rounds are overwhelming. I’m neutral on the white potatoes.

Tiradito is more purist, fish-only. These crudo preparations were lime juice tart and not terribly spicy. Despite the use of aji amarillo and rocoto peppers, Peruvian cuisine isn’t known for hot flavors.

A yuca rellena stuffed with ground beef and hardboiled eggs (they really love their hardboiled eggs) didn’t go far split into sixths.

No one got too excited about the papas a la huancainas, classic as it may be. The cold dish of yellow-sauced potatoes reminded me of a mild curry. I had no idea that the creamy texture was a result of pureed cheese, evaporated milk and Saltines. Strange, but good strange.

Still hungry, we debated getting a whole fried fish, which seemed to be popular but by the time we asked they were sold out of snapper. When asked for ideas, our waitress suggested the chicken, which was kind of like the potatoes. It appears that you can huancaina-up anything.

Arroz con mariscos, a paella-ish dish in a heavy pot, was the crowning glory.

Sorry, lovebirds. I wasn’t trying to capture you on film; you just happened to be the only patrons left in the restaurant.

Pre-dinner drinks combined with meal-time beers caused us to lose track of time. Normally, I’m a freak about being the last one in a restaurant or arriving near to closing, but you know, I’m trying to cut loose in 2009. Overstaying your welcome will get lights turned off on you, though.

Urubamba * 86-20 37th Ave., Jackson Heights, NY

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Sep 4

Zabb Thai

1/2 “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” was all I could spit out while approaching Roosevelt Avenue. Even from a block away I was getting an unpleasant eyeful of at least 40 diners-to-be swarming the sidewalk in front of Sripraphai. Seriously?
I know the place’s popularity seems to grow exponentially each year and that you get what you’re asking for on a Saturday night even on a holiday weekend, but no, I wasn’t buying the insanity. It’s not Sripraphai’s problem that they’ve become such a success but I can’t tolerate the hour waiting thing even for my most favorite salad in the world (next to Resto’s crispy pig’s ear). I felt tired and defeated without even stepping into the fray.
Quick plan B: Zabb just down the road. No crowd, and in their favor they keep late night hours and are BYOB (which I didn’t realize until we’d already sat down). Curries aren’t their strength, as the focus is more Northern Thai, but fiery herby salads and stir-fries are good too.

Moo dad. I was thinking these would be crispy like skin-on pork belly in little chunks, but these pork strips were breaded and fried and served with chile sauce. This could’ve been heavy and greasy a la chicken fried steak but the coating was light and the meat was juicy. And I really liked that we got a full container of the sauce with our leftovers. I’m always disappointed when I bring home uneaten steak from Argentine parrillas and there’s no chimichurri included in the bag.

I always mean to order the catfish mango salad at Sripraphai but can never forgo the crispy watercress, it’s a catch 22. I love how the fish has been fried unrecognizably into fluff. I once made this at home a million years ago. Getting the catfish into this state wasn’t the hard part—it was shredding the mango properly. I need a tool like this. Crisp, salty and fatty hit with sweet fruit and rich cashews? I love that combination.

No, this duck salad wasn’t a replacement for my beloved awesomely rich duck, eggplant and bamboo shoot curry. The flavors were all there, maybe I just wanted those particular vegetables mixed with the poultry.

We weren’t asked about spice levels and forgot to make any mention. The chicken larb was the only dish that seemed too mild.
I have zero business sense but judging from the freak show in front of Sripraphai there is clearly a market for authentic Thai food for non-Thais. And even though there’s a glut of so-so Thai already in my neighborhood, that would be my target area. If I knew how to open a restaurant and import cooks from Thailand I would channel my inner Chodorow and make it happen.
Which reminds me, I’m 99% sure I’m going to Thailand later this year. I’d been planning on Malaysia but had my mind changed at the last minute. Why not Thailand? At least I that’s what I thought until all hell broke loose this week. But I went to Singapore during the SARS scare, particularly because the flight was dirt cheap. Maybe I can work this civil unrest thing to my financial advantage. Ha, there's always the free food for protesters angle. (8/30/08)

Dec 3

La Casa del Pollo Peruano

1/2 Not too long ago I was craving South American pollo a la brasa of any type. I ended up at one of the numerous Marios because it was on the later side and they were open. But slightly preferring Peruvian over Colombian, my original intention was nearby La Casa del Pollo. Now, I’ve had a chance to try both.

Awkward looking yet delicious half chicken

What I didn’t know was that this bustling restaurant was nearly half-Chinese. Sure, rotisserie chicken meals with rice and beans sit at the top of the oversized paper menu, but if you look at the combo options pork fried rice appears. Then, as you skim downward, chop suey, lo mein and sweet and sour pork appear too.

At least I was able to finally try lomo saltado, a true fusion dish of stir-fried beef, onions and tomatoes that I’m pretty sure contains soy sauce. It’s the neither Peruvian nor Chinese addition of french fries that’s kind of strange and compelling (I’m fascinated by non-American recipes, or heck American ones too, that call for fries. Maltese Bacon has a Vietnamese rendition that actually sounds edible).

Cheap and simple, Casa del Pollo is totally the kind of thing lacking in my immediate neighborhood. As much as people think Smith St. is the shit (culinarily speaking), that’s not really true and doesn’t help those in the hinterlands. I would gladly take roast chicken and soy sauced french fries over bad Chinese and mediocre pizza.

Read my nymag.com review.

La Casa del Pollo * Roosevelt Ave., Jackson Heights, NY

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Posts from the ‘Jackson Heights’ Category

Eaten, Barely Blogged: Sweets, Shots, Samosas

Shovel Time: Kitchen 79

Goodie Obsession: All the Empanadas at La Nueva Bakery (and More)

Eaten, Barely Blogged: Queens For a Week

Eaten, Barely Blogged: Crickets, Chicken Combos, Salted Caramel

El Anzuelo Fino

Taqueria Coatzingo

Urubamba

Zabb Thai

La Casa del Pollo Peruano

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