Skip to content

Sigiri

Sri Lankan seems more elusive than the ubiquitous Indian (or is it really Bangladeshi?) restaurants that are clustered in parts of the city. I was excited to try this new-ish East Village place because I'd only eaten Sri Lankan food once before in Staten Island and this seemed more convenient (though at the rate I've been going the past few years, I get to the forgotten borough more than Alphabet City).

The style of food I had at New Asha was slightly different, heartier, more home style, less refined, and in some ways slightly more tasty. It was casual steam table fare. Sigiri, while hardly formal, is slightly more upscale in price and presentation.

I don't even know what is quintessentially Sri Lankan, hence ordering benchmarks are nebulous. But black curry seems unique, and Sigiri offers a version with pork. The black is really dark brown, achieved by toasting of spices like…I'm not sure which spices. Hoppers also seem unusual, little crispy crepe-like vessels that come four to an order, three plain, one with a sunny side up egg embedded in the bottom. Sambol is served as an accompaniment, we chose coconut.

We were warned about heat, but then, we always are and are always let down by wimpy-ness. Sigiri comes through, they really do mean hot when they say it. Our devilled prawns, which were grilled, came with onion, chiles and were slightly sweet and sour, but mostly spicy. The black curry was probably a notch hotter. We thought hoppers were eaten in lieu of rice, but had to order a bowl on the fly to combat the burn.

The staff, or at least one waitress, seemed to know practically all of the diners. I don't know if everyone was regulars or if the Sri Lankan community in NYC is just really small and restaurants are so few.

Sigiri * First Ave., New York, NY

Baby, I Can’t Wait

The last Urban Outfitters catalog that found its way into my mail pile spazzed me out by the rampant showcasing of leggings and stirrup pants. I eventually calmed down, the dismay faded from memory. Until last night when I got home after eating at Sigiri, a newish Sri Lankan restaurant in the East Village (black curry and hoppers rule) and observed that a new Urban Outfitters catalog was waiting for me in the foyer. Ok, lately I've been super tired and lazy at night, so I could be mistaken, but I swear one of the photos had a girl holding a Nu Shooz record. Not "Poolside," but possibly a 12" single because the art looks very much the same (but to be fair, lots of art from that era resembles each other). I can't be bothered to find my old entry (which could soon be rectified–look for a totally revamped website in the next few weeks) but I know that I've mentioned this Portland one-hit-wonder more than once, if only because it tidily sums up all that I loathe about recycled pop culture. When the kids start turning to a forgotten-for-a-reason NW band for fun and inspiration, you know the world is in big trouble. I didn't actually bother to look up album art last night when I had the catalog near me (I don't currently) because I was tired and have ADD, but don't think I'll forget. This will be rectified this evening, believe, me.

Ok, record geeks. I found the offending Urban Outfitters catalog online, but the image is tiny so you have to drag the "close up" magnifying square over the 12" in the foreground. The more I dwell on this, the more I doubt that it's Nu Shooz, after all. So then, what record is it?

Counter Intelligence

Hey, look at me. I had a real vs. fake food story in yesterday's NY Post.  And I'm not one to care much about being edited, but I will say that I would never use the word succulent. Just so you know, the word succulent didn't come from my keyboard. Thank you for allowing me clear that up.

Tia Pol

I had avoided Tia Pol for ages because I feared it was the type of place that would make me unhappy. You know, tiny, cramped, jostling, long waits. All of that was true, but it didn't bother me. Maybe it was the drinks I'd downed prior to dinner.

One of the main reasons I'd never been to Tia Pol is that it's just not on my way to anything. I finally found an opportunity when I decided to see Architecture of Density, a series of photographs by Michael Wolf at Hasted Hunt Gallery down the street. I never go see art, but I really love these images of Hong Kong and got an invite from the photographer after writing online about how I was just going to blow up color photocopies of images from the book since I couldn't afford the $8,000 (or so) price tags. I always forget that people actually read what I write occasionally, and it's probably not wise to talk about things like flagrantly violating copyright (or tax laws).

So, there's nothing like little bites after viewing large scale photography. There was about a thirty minute wait, and the bar area is narrow, but like I said, it wasn't unbearable. We eventually got a nice two-seater in the back away from the fray.

With tapas I'm never sure if I'm under or over ordering. Our strategy here was to order a decent number of the small sized servings (most items come in two sizes) and opt for more if necessary (I've never actually done this when using this plan of attack, for fear of seeming too gluttonous). A glass of Txakoli made a nice accompaniment.

Sardines
Grilled sardines with a carrot slaw. There was a distinctive coriander seed sweetness to the shredded vinegared vegetables.

Gambas_1
I can never pass up the gambas. My question is whether or not you're supposed to eat the shells. I always do, and the heads too. Is that barbaric?

Chorizochoc
Chorizo, chocolate and little chile strands. Yes, the combination is peculiar, though not untasty. I think it's just regular chocolate, possibly milk chocolate. I can see it working better with a darker more bitter permutation.

Patatas
Classic patatas bravas. Weird how mayonnaise can be so blech, but aioli can be so addictive. That's garlic for you.

Lamb_1
Blurry lamb skewers. Nice and cuminy.

Cheese_1
I can never recall all the contents of a cheese plate after the fact. But there was definitely some marcona almonds, honey covered walnuts, quince paste, cabrales, manchego and idiazabal.

Tia Pol * 205 Tenth Ave., New York, NY

Greatest Show on Earth

Cosmeticshow It's sad when seven-year-old make up makes you happy. But such is the case with Cosmetic Show, the only shining light in my otherwise bland work neighborhood. I've bemoaned the state of the east 50s ever since setting up shop there seven weeks ago. Boring.

Yet, less than a full block away from my office is this crazy Odd Job (R.I.P.) of beauty products (with candy, Nutella, cookies and nuts incongruously shelved near the front window). The magic happens in the back of the store where there are bins of relatively organized new and dead stock. And it's all after my heart.

Like the L'Oreal True Match powder that I just bought a few months ago is available for $5 in all shades, not just weirdo ones. But what fascinates me most is all of the discontinued products and colors they have that I purchased in the late '90s and still use (hygiene aside, I own lots and lots of make up so lipstick or eye shadow can last a decade. Fuck that throw things away after six months propaganda. I've never had a problem yet, it's my own germs).

I was first mesmerized by their cache of Maybelline Lip Polish from an old 1998 space themed series of pale shimmery shades. I still have my tube of beigey Galactic Sands, which I bought as a 26th birthday present to myself at the Rite Aid on Fresh Pond Rd. in Ridgewood. Insane as it sounds now, it was a serious splurge at a time when making the rent was a severe struggle. I recall stressing over a $12 pair of Payless tennis shoes that same summer.

Those lip glosses weren't even all that great, kind of thick and dry like spackle, more matte than gloss. I can see why they didn't catch on. But I had to buy a $2 tube of iridescent lavender Planet Pluto for old time's sake.

They also had little tubs of L'Oreal On the Loose Shimmering Powder, which they still might make, I'm not sure. I've used my intensely teal Diva Down shade for years. I was always impressed by the strong pigmentation, which is unusual in drug store brands. So, I grabbed a $2 container of burgundy-brown Raisin' Cane just for fun.

Same for the Vintage Pink Lancome Rouge Sensation (it didn't come smashed-that was an accident on my end), which I have no sentimental connection to. It just seemed like a good everyday color for a good deal $6 (it's $22 at Sephora and much less bubblegummy than it looks on their site).

To my knowledge Cosmetic Show isn't a chain, but dammit, it should be.

Old_2   New
1998 makeup on the left and new old 2006 versions on the right

Cosmetic Show * E. 55th St., New York, NY

Short Months are Still Too Long

I must be paying the price for staying home Fri. when I was only mildly sick. Now I'm sick for real and already used up a valuable day. That'll teach me. I'm sure you are all dying to know what I did for Valentine's Day. James took me out to Pampano, which was perfectly nice (though I had issues because it's just down the street from my office and I'm very anti-midtown east these days). But it was kind of overshadowed by our impromptu dinner at Blue Hill at Stone Barns, the Sunday before President's Day. My short notice Tarrytown excursion was totally fun, and I took lots of pointless photos (I'm going to turn into one of those annoying photo bloggers, even worse foodie photo blogger, if I don't watch it) but I haven't had a chance to write it up (ha, but I did manage to find the time to blab about Cosmetic Show, this crazy mess of a store I just found. Priorities you know). I know that's older than old now, but I'm just here on Tues. getting a chance to sort out what I did nearly a week and a half ago. I will say that I ate a shit load of Cuban food last week for an article I turned in today. Phew. I think I'm free to just write about minutiae and myself for now. Feb. was all like that. March had better not be or I'm going to end up doing something rash.

El Sitio

I was just about Cubano'd out at this point in my fake vs. real research. But El Sitio is a classic, I couldn't pass it up. Though I have physically passed by countless times and never stopped in. This is a perpetual problem with Roosevelt Ave.–too much choice and when it's a Latin-Asian toss-up, I almost always lean towards the Thai or Filipino options.

We sat in the restaurant half, which has personal jukeboxes at each table, fake ivy climbing the ceiling, and no cubano on the menu. Oops, I guess you're supposed to sit at the lunch counter for more casual fare. But I still got my sandwich, I had to. You get garlic bread while you wait and little croquettes the size of olives. Maybe you don't get those in the diner. James ordered a pork plate with yucca, and rice and beans, of course.

The sandwich was perfectly crisp with a soft melty interior. Swiss cheese, roast pork, ham, pickle and yellow mustard–all standard and all good. And very flat, it'd had the hell pressed out of it, which is a good thing. I hate it when everything's busting out.

El Sitio * 68-28 Roosevelt Ave., Woodside, NY

Chain Links: Good and Bad

In my book there's no such thing as a bad chain–I have room in my heart for them all–but clearly not everyone agrees.

New2_1 New Yorkers have been crapping themselves over the soon-to-open Trader Joe's. Part of me can't blame them. $2.99 vegan pad thai? Amazing (I guess), though I'm more of a discount Niman Ranch bacon and Total Greek yogurt shopper.

The new Bed-Stuy Applebee's isn't being met with so much love. What kind of foolish freaks line up for honey bbq Riblets, they ask? Well, these people, apparently. There are worse crimes than Applebee's fascination. I'll admit that a new chain in a formerly chain-less area can be weirdly thrilling.

I'm just excited to hear that the Applebee's is housed in a former Lerner's. If they'd only create a two-in-one concept.

Tehuitzingo Deli

People in the know go all nuts for Tehuitzingo Deli. I think it's because the bulk of Manhattan is taco deprived. Don't get me wrong, they churn out an authentic item (I included them in a real vs. fake article I recently wrote) but it's the sort of place that humorless foodies might bandy about as a badge of honor.

Behold tacos filled with barbacoa, carnitas and cecina. They all taste distinct, but it's hard to discern which is which from this pic.

Tehuitzingo_2

I went to the Belle and Sebastian show with Heather, who had a friend (that I won't link to because it's more fun to blog behind backs) that wanted to grab a bite before the concert. He had mentioned Tehuitzingo to her, but I had already put in a convincing vote for Olive Garden. This was majorly vetoed by this friend of a friend. It was ok, I wrangled two souls into going to The OG.

It was funny because after the show, my pal tracked down this guy and introduced us and mentioned that we both did food blogs like that would be a bond. But it never is. That's why I don't hang out with any food freaks (most of my friends are vegetarian or meat and potatoes). If someone can't eat at Tehuitzingo and Olive Garden in the same week, then it's just not going to work. God created tripe tacos and neverending pasta bowls to both be enjoyed.

Tehuitzingo Deli * 695 Tenth Ave., New York, NY

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