Posts from the ‘What to Eat’ Category

Apr 10

East Ocean

1/2 Despite working in the E. 50s for over three months now, I still haven't settled into a smooth lunch routine. And I'm still a bit disgruntled at the area's offerings.

While hardly amazing, I will make the half-block journey to East Ocean maybe once a week. They have one of those point and pick deals where you get rice plus two choices and a soda for $5.95. You don't have to get fried rice and fatty battered meat (though you certainly could–I'm just trying to say that cheap steam table Chinese isn't all unhealthy) They have things like simple greens in oyster sauce or lotus root stir fry, and most importantly, they have cans of seltzer. I have fits when you get a free drink, but it has to be a can, therefore a soda. I just want water (not out of health–I just don't like soda) and it seems cruel that water costs more than carbonated corn syrup. Silly as it is, including seltzer as a free drink option, boosts my opinion of East Ocean up a notch or two.

Here's an all-brown meal I got the other day. One entre is pork belly, the other is a bizarre combination of taro cubes and short ribs. I try to eat light lunches (primarily to justify eating hearty dinners) but some days you're just starving and need a meaty/starchy boost. East Ocean * 159 E. 55th St., New York, NY

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Apr 7

Lazy Catfish

There's a bizarre scene lurking in Williamsburg, and it involves Asians slinging southern food for hipsters. Well, primarily neighborhood residents, but the back room, where a friend threw a party, was also serving as a celebratory space for two other groups, both Asian (I don't know which ethnicity, though I'm leaning towards Chinese).

While service was sweet when we could flag it down, it was scattershot, to say the least. Menus were tough to get a hold of, we ultimately wrote down our orders on a piece of notebook paper to aid the lone waitress (I thought that was odd and it totally wasn't my idea) and the food arrived in starts and fits.

Actually, I was the one who started throwing a fit. It's unwise to drink excessively on an empty stomach, but I wasn't slamming beers by any means. The fact that I was on my third drink and still food-less was a testament to their pace rather than mine. What would be the odds that out of 13 people, I'd be the 13th served? (At last Christmas's gift exchange I also drew 13 out of 13 numbers–so I think I'm just lucky.)

By the time my simple bbq chicken with marshmallow topped yams and mini corn on the cob appeared, half the table was already finished eating and I was sloshed and disgruntled. Fortunately, they happened to have one of my favorite foods in the world on the menu, cheese wontons, a.k.a. crab rangoon! Awesome, yet not quite awesome enough to salvage the meal.

The food was really neither here nor there. It wasn't wretched, but reminded me of what you'd probably get in Hong Kong. Not that I experienced that first hand–I steered clear of anything Southern or Mexican when on vacation. They do have a Tony Roma's in HK (which I realize isn't quite Southern, but it's ribby, saucy and American).

I did perk up a bit when the karaoke kicked in, alas; it was time to move on to a new venue. They did give out free cake and a cocktail for the birthday girl, nice touches, but all in all it was a bit of a freak show. That's why I don't attempt large birthday dinners.

Lazy Catfish * 593 Lorimer St., Brooklyn, NY

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Apr 2

Hornado Ecuatoriano

I don't think I've ever met a plate of roast pork I didn't like. Lechon, hornado, whatever you call it. Rich, fatty meat and nice crme brulee-crisp skin topping. It's nothing fancy (and certainly nothing healthy) but it's one of my favorite things. Maybe it's because I've never been able to reproduce the moist-crunchy masterpiece at home. And it's for the best, or I'd be digging an early porcine grave.

When I end up on Roosevelt Ave., eating is a must. The tough question is Asian or Latin American? I could easily go either way, but my two top choices along that strip would be Thai or Filipino.

I never know if it's a language issue or if I'm just hard to understand, though I got what I came for. English isn't really spoken and most of the menu isn't translated, so you kind of have to know what you want (or speak Spanish, duh). James got all weird and randomly ordered arroz con pollo, which I wouldn't do at an Ecuadorian restaurant. The massive chewy yellow rice had bits of chicken strewn through out and a sweet fried plantain draped across the oval dish. He wasn't thrilled, but it's not my fault he ordered poorly.

Me, I had a nice heap of pork, generous pile of white hominy and two little arepas with a side salad that was tasty enough to not completely ignore. This food is filling to say the least. And they say Americans are corn crazy. I love hominy, maybe more than corn. It's chewy and more satisfying on the teeth you can really bite into it. I didn't get one of the fruity batidos that seemed to be on every table (there were a few pitchers of sangria being consumed, as well) though they did look refreshing.

Hornado Ecuatoriano * 76-18 Roosevelt Ave., Jackson Heights, NY

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Apr 1

Beast

1/2 Though hardly far away (maybe twelve minutes by car), Prospect Heights feels a little like a trek. I only ever head that direction to occasionally hit the Target, which I usually eschew in favor of the nicer Elmhurst location, anyway. I liked the idea of Beast, a pubby, neighborhood tapas place, but have never been inclined to pay a visit (I was supposed to go to a birthday party there maybe six months ago, but that afternoon our tire got punctured and blew. And yes, I realize there's such a thing as public transportation in Brooklyn, but this was a celebration thrown by people I barely knew, hence the lack of extra effort. It's tough going east-west).

Maybe it was an off night. (For me, I mean. I was feeling hot and cranky for inexplicable reasons. I don't like spring, I guess.) There's something off-kilter about Beast. I felt unsettled, even after two pints of beer. I can't put my finger on it. I'm not sure if it's the service, the clientele, the atmosphere or what. But most importantly, it seemed like the food had no taste. I can barely even recall what I ate beyond the main ingredient.

We ordered escarole that was studded with pine nuts and raisins. All I can remember is soupiness. There were also cocoa-dusted venison skewers, but all that's coming to mind is meat cubes and grapes on a stick. They rested on beds of something–red cabbage sauerkraut? Sweet potatoes? There was a purple patch and an orange one. James thought the mussels had gone off, I thought they were ok, but strongly flavored. The winey, buttery, tomato tinged broth was the most flavorful thing we tried. It was perfect for dipping crusty bread into.

Oh, the sticky toffee pudding was a late showing highlight. It's nice to find a warm dessert that's not chocolately, oozing and molten.

Beast * 638 Bergen St., Brooklyn, NY

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Mar 29

Yuva

I usually just go along with what everyone suggests for business type coworker lunches (which are very, very rare in my world) because I'm very grin and bear it (I hate that phrase and have used it enough as a joke that it's starting to permeate my normal conversation) in the workplace. But this time I was saddled with choosing the restaurant, wasn't in the best of spirits, so wanted to make sure I got to eat something I actually wanted. (I really didn't care if no one else wanted Indian food, because I wasn't about to slough through an overpriced chicken caesar salad with dressing on the side.) I'd intended on trying Yuva for dinner for a few weeks, but because it's only three blocks from the office it never made sense for anyone to come up to midtown just to meet me for an evening meal.

Normally, I wouldn't dip into the teens for lunch, but since it wasn't coming out of my pocket the prices seemed reasonable. The quality and presentation was much higher than you'd expect from a run of the mill midtown Indian place. The decor is subtle and leaning towards neutral.

I wish I'd had my camera (though I would've been reluctant to whip it out in front of my new-ish boss and colleague) because the nine three-by-three chutneys and sauces that were brought out on a square platter, were amazingly hued. Brilliant greens, sunshiney oranges, raisin browns, and flavored with green peppers, mangos, mint, yogurt, and obviously more. I felt bad not being able to try them all. Work lunches are never really about enjoying the food, are they?

I chose the chicken tikka masala, which comes with a bowl of rice and dal, each in small round white bowls that are more like coffee cups without handles. They were set atop individual square plates, which rested on a larger square plate like the chutneys had been. The clean geometry and pale monochrome tones elevated the food. It's likely you'd detect a higher degree of care by taste alone, but the impression gained from a meal served on ceramic rather than in Styrofoam is obviously higher. Getting take out, which you can here, might feel different.

You're given a choice of soup or salad, but being ladies we all chose the salad. I was curious what the soup was. We were also given grilled yogurt chicken wings and onion kulcha on the house. What I think was kheer, a cardamom laced rice pudding, came unexpectedly at the end. It was a bit much for an afternoon workday meal. The funny thing is that one of the coworkers in attendance, happens to live up the street, and ended up bringing her girlfriend to Yuva later that day for dinner Eating two meals at the same restaurant, hours apart, by choice is pretty indicative of its allure.

Yuva * 230 E. 58th St., New York, NY

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Mar 23

Mug’s Ale House

Mug's is weird because it exists with such little fanfare, kind of like nearby Teddy's. I'd almost forgotten about Mug's, myself, until I was at relatively nearby Western Beef on a weeknight and dying for a cheeseburger. Yes, there's the respectable DuMont Burger, but I wasn't feeling up to the woody, zen smallness of the whole thing. I wanted noise, beer and space. The kind of place you should be able to smoke in, but can't.

I hadn't been to Mug's in nearly eight years, which is a frightening fact. Not because the establishment is any great shakes, but because Mug's is where the near strangers I stayed with when I first moved to NYC used to hang out (which seems odd now). I associate it with the scared but eager greenhorn me, which honestly doesn't feel like eight years ago. Now I'm more scared and anxious and jaded, and strangely, the only person who's remained in the city from that crew of people. I don't know if that's because I'm resilient or dumb.

But the food…yes, it was fine. No brioche or gruyere or parsley sprinkled frites. The burger and fries are standard burger and fries, just what I'd been craving. Maybe I'll go back again in another eight years, if I'm still in NYC when I'm 41. Jesus, just typing that number makes me feel nervous. See you in 2014, Mug's.

Mug's Ale House * 125 Bedford Ave., Brooklyn, NY

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Mar 18

Saigon Banh Mi So 1

I went a little sandwich crazy this Saturday. In less than thirty minutes I purchased a bocadillo from Despaña and two banh mi from this place. It was a bready Broome St. kind of afternoon.

Living in Sunset Park for a decent spell, Ba Xuyen has always been my go to spot. I think I've only tried So 1 once or twice, and years ago. I'd forgotten how many choices they had and how vegetarian friendly (lots of fake meat, gluten stuff) their banh mis can be. I was intrigued by a handwritten sign advertising chicken curry banh mi, but went with the classic, which is almost always a #1.

It's hard not to compare the Brooklyn and Manhattan sandwiches. Both are from the upper echelon of Saigon subs, but I'm partial to the Sunset Park style. I could be totally wrong, but Ba Xuyen's bread seems crispier, while So 1 has a softer style, more like an Italian roll. So 1 also uses more sausage, which I think is liberally laced with five-spice powder. Not a bad flavor, but it gives the sandwich an overall Chinese-y flair.

Like when I was in Hong Kong, certain stores just smelled Chinese, which I finally deduced meant five-spice powder to my senses. Much of Malaysia smelled, well, Malaysian. You'd be in a mall, walk past a store and get a whiff of Malaysia that I ultimately narrowed down to being toasted shrimp paste. I'm not sure what Vietnamese smells like–maybe lemongrass? Fish sauce, too, I guess. Nuoc cham?

Maybe it was just luck of the draw, but this banh mi had cilantro that was all stem, no leaf. I hate to admit that I have a stem phobia because it's very childish. But I've gotten much better, now I'll eat romaine no problem when ten years ago I'd nibble around the ribs. I'm a low maintenance eater, I swear, but there's something unsettling about biting into a wad of stems, not severing them neatly with your incisors, and then pulling the thin green stalks out of the sandwich with your mouth as you start to put the sandwich down.

Despite all my nitpicking, So1 still makes one of the better banh mis in Manhattan. If only the much revered banh mi would start popping up in midtown, all my problems would be solved. But you know they'd cost $7 and somehow manage to be pressed like a panini. (3/18/06)

Saigon Banh Mi So 1 * 369 Broome St., New York, NY

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Mar 18

Despaña

I totally went nuts at Despaña. For years (ok, maybe one year), I've had intentions of heading out to the Jackson Heights wholesale location. I go to Jackson Heights pretty frequently, the problem was, if I'm correct, that their open to the public hours were only 9am-1pm on Saturdays. I can never get it together that early on weekends. It's not like I ever make it to Nolita, Soho, or wherever you call Broome and Lafayette streets, either, though I did have business in the neighborhood twice this week (haircut and blue food dye)

My goal was to spend no more than $40 on a supplementary birthday present, but when all was said and done I'd blown close to $100. It happens. I bought, lomo, cabrales, Manchego, squid ink, saffron, membrillo, both hot and sweet paprika, Valencian rice, sherry vinegar, chorizo, morcilla and a bocadillo.

Most importantly (for Shovel Time's purposes), the bocadillo. It's strange because during my 9-6 Monday through Friday life I would never spend $7.50 for a sandwich because I'm cheap. But on the weekend that's more than fair for high quality ingredients. The bread comes from Sullivan Street Bakery, and the fillings are simple, no more than three ingredients per sandwich. I was mesmerized by all of the choices, but ended up choosing the el quijote: lomo embuchado i.e. dry cured pork loin, Manchego and membrillo spread. The counter guy commented "women always order that one." Well, I love pork and sweets together (don't get me started on Hawaiian pizza), I guess I'm a stereotype.

Despaña * 408 Broome St., New York, NY

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Mar 17

Dokebi

There's nothing Irish about Korean bbq, but then there's nothing Korean about Echo and the Bunnymen, either. Why not spend St. Patrick's Day evening grilling meat, getting drunk on Sapporo and sake and listening to late '80s alternative hits?

For no reason at all, I seem to be dining in Williamsburg with alarming frequency lately. The food scene isn't the most impressive. It's like Portland in the sense that there are lots of thrifty vegetarians with low expectations who throw it off for anyone seeking exquisiteness or authenticity (fish sauce-less Thai food with brown rice is wrong beyond words). But to be honest, Korean and Japanese cuisine aren't my strengths, so I can only be open minded.

So yeah, the food was perfectly satisfying. I tried japchae (which was amusingly described on the menu as Korean pad thai. Has pad thai become shorthand for stir-fried noodles?), seafood scallion pancake, kalbi, pork and assorted mushrooms and vegetables for grilling (three single servings–choices come single or double with a slight discount) and the kim chee sampler (cabbage, radish, cucumber) but you don't really need it because you do get panchan like pickled bean sprouts and a few other little dishes.

There aren't a lot of places (if any) in Brooklyn where you can do the table top Korean barbecuing (there's an odd little shabu shabu joint in Sunset Park, though) so it's definitely filling a void. As an added bonus, you can get pitchers of beer and pretend you're at a suburban pizza parlor. Then you can head down the street to Tainted Lady Lounge and try to figure out why kids are shamelessly dressed like Tennenbaum tennis players complete with terry cloth headbands. Good times.

Dokebi * 199 Grand St., Brooklyn, NY * 125 Bedford Ave., Brooklyn, NY

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Mar 10

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

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