In our household, going out for breakfast on the weekend has always been a tradition. Back when we spent more time in the E. Village, breakfast at Odessa's (which I wrote about in last week's blog) or Veselka (9th Street at Second Avenue) was pretty much a mainstay. Somewhere along the line, I began to view breakfast as a reward. My reasoning was that being seriously high-energy i.e. working two jobs, managing the household and most of the kid stuff, entitled me to breakfast. This was a dangerous shift on my part. Once I viewed breakfast as a reward, it literally disappeared and became an enticing mirage. This is probably what people mean about familiarity breeding contempt in close relationships. When breakfast became a mirage, rest assured that I waged fierce battles to reinstate it. I won't get into details since this information is not so food-oriented. All I will say to Carl is, remember the Neil Young tickets buddy.
If my breakfast battle has flagged a bit, a major contributing factor is the dearth of good breakfast places in Tribeca. In the past year, Tribeca lost Socrates, a venerable breakfast/lunch place for cops, sanitation officers and the "real" people who reside down here. Socrates resided right across from Nobu, at the corners of Hudson/Franklin for 25 years. At this point, big daughter would push me for full disclosure. Yes, it's true that I'd stopped going to Socrates awhile ago. I felt the end coming and it was just too depressing for me to eat there. The few times I visited Socrates, I was informed that "the waffle machine broke," or "the cook didn't know how to use the waffle machine" or they "ran out of buckwheat pancakes". I viewed this as an omen. I kid you not, each time I visited, such things really occurred. Finally, I decided it was best to go elsewhere.
Privately, I agonized over their failure to renovate - especially after Gee Whiz did after 9/11. Gee Whiz became "the neighborhood spot" for diner food, but not for me, of course). Carl has been eating at Socrates since it opened. Through his tutelage, little one was inducted into the Socrates Hall of Famers club. I think Carl liked Socrates because he achieved the commendable feat of taking little one off to breakfast at Socrates AND STILL MANAGED TO READ HIS beloved sports pages. He does this whenever the family is out for breakfast.I can safely report that it drives big daughter crazy. He did it this morning at Blaue Gans, see below (an Austrian restaurant on Duane Street between W. Broadway and Church) and I didn't mind.
Anyway, back to Socrates, they served really good buckwheat pancakes, challah French Toast. Their oatmeal with bananas had the perfect consistency. As Socrates slowly wound to its untimely demise, I managed to get us over to Blaue Gans, located on the site of the old Le Zinc. I must share that I used to love Le Zinc's oatmeal - it was so rich, it tasted like Indian rice pudding and I always felt (happily) sick after eating it. At Blaue Gans we became good friends with Miri, the young Austrian waitress who was there early on Saturdays/Sundays. She was extra sweet to little one and always prepared an amazing juice drink of orange juice and cranberry juice that little one adored. At Blaue Gans, we love to order the thick brown bread with jam/butter, the boiled eggs in a martini glass and the muesli along with a selection of very good loose teas.
Blaue Gans is part of the Wallse and Neue Cafe empire. The chef is really smart, talented and tough. In the early morning, I examine the just-made Austrian pastries arrayed beautifully on the bar: the Linzer Torte, Gugelhopf (a kind of coffee-cake), the huge meringues and the milk breads, which are yummy - both with and without chocolate.
As the weather became warmer, and little one had Sunday morning soccer practice on the track in front of Pace High School by the Manhattan Bridge, we hiked through quiet Soho streets to Caffe Falai (265 Lafayette Street at Prince Street). Caffe Falai is an offshoot of two namesake cafe/restaurants on the Lower East Side (both around Clinton Street). Caffe Falai has an all-white decor, with glass chandeliers, small tables and a counter of Italian pastries, chocolates and breakfast treats.
Caffe Falai is staffed by high-energy, charming Italian men who cater to a constant stream of exotic-looking, stylish hipsters who line up at the counter seeking good coffee. Their pastries selection are the real draw - all manner of apple turnovers, little banana/almond tarts, chocolate domes and a selection of baked egg dishes.
Falai Iacopelli is a total sweetheart (and very cute too, in a retro 60s way - I must say that). He very sweetly gave little one a box of yummy cookies early on in the summer and I was a fan for life. How nice is that? Carl pronounces their coffee amazing. We would alternate between breakfast at Blaue Gans and Caffe Falai (until Blaue Gans stopped serving breakfast at 9 a.m. during the summer). The ambiance at Blaue Gans is more winter/fall and everybody (but us) likes to sit outside at Bouley Bakery (at W. Broadway/Duane), and sip their coffees.
When soccer stopped, and it became too hot to walk over to Lafayette street, we began having breakfast at Mocca, an Israeli cafe/lounge (at the corner of Reade/Church). We followed one of our other favorite waitresses from Blaue Gans over to Mocca -that's a secret. Mocca has a bustling takeout service - they offer a dizzying array of coffee drinks, decent teas, some hot chocolates and everything in between. Their breakfasts are good and they serve traditional middle eastern breakfasts. In mid-to late evening, Mocca morphs into a lounge and that vibe is still floating around at breakfast time. It makes me feel a bit wobbly, so I'm inconsistent with Mocca.
For those moments, there is My Bigger Place (used to be My Little Place) a Mexican/American restaurant on Warren and West Broadway. Carl is a huge fan of their food. Besides truly good Mexican food, they serve really good biscuits. I usually get the egg white turkey omelet and hash browns. The oatmeal is also very good-accompanied by generous helpings of bananas and other fruit. It enough food for two or three people according to me. Sometimes I get their steak with green pepper and guacamole. It's good but a bit greasy so I can only eat that one time per month or so. My stomach always hurts right after eating it.
Unfortunately, My Bigger Place doesn't have loose tea and that's a bit problematci for me. I realize I sound a bit ridiculous, but good tea is good tea and tea bags don't cut it. Carl is always up for breakfast at My Bigger Place, but sometimes I'm searching for something more.
There's a new (very HIP) place at the corner of N. Moore and Greenwich, Smith and Mills. When it first opened, we stopped in for breakfast and somehow Carl survived the experience. He has an antenna for over-the-top behavior and yes, that does exist there. Here's the rub, the ambiance is great for me at Smith and Mill. It's a cozy little space with real cloth napkins, little china tea cups and croissants but that's where it ends.
Carl's right - the staff is really into themselves. The first time we were there, the cook (who looked REALLY GROUCHY) got mad because Carl couldn't figure out how to slide open the bathroom door. (Carl's a bit spatially challenged and readily admits it). He once broke a handle on little one's stroller because he couldn't figure out how to slide the lever and yanked it off! He didn't tell me and one day I reached for it and it was gone. Although I have my own run-ins with Carl, when he's unfairly mistreated, I get protective. The grouchy cook was lounging at the bar and reading our NY Post so in retaliation for his meanness to Carl, I started loudly looking for the Post.
When the cook went off to the bathroom, I muttered some choice things. To top it off, we all had to eat croissants because they said they ran out of muesli. I guess the party of four that was there before us ate everything, or maybe we didn't have a "hip" enough vibe?. Come to think of it, maybe they were trying to get rid of us, hmm. They were just mentioned in one of the NY Posts Sunday Magazine's breakfast assignments. On our way upstate to a very cool tea house - Verdigris (see the tea post), Carl went in there yesterday morning to get us some tea. He did this for logistical reasons.
We picked up our Zip Car at the garage on N. Moore, directly across the street from Smith and Mills. Carl said the guy said "BYE" very loudly to him after he left a $1 tip on $6 (for one tea/one coffee.) I could just see it. I'm sad to say that aside from Blaue Gans, I've given up on the idea of a nice breakfast in Tribeca. If it's early, we walk over to La Colombe Torrefaction and get a Hot Chocolate and have a nice chat with the friendly barista-man/manager. He never fails to ask after beautiful big daughter (which scores significant points with me) and is very sweet to little daughter. So it's a win-win.
If we're heading out around 11 a.m., I ask Carl (or go myself) to get a chai from the Pakistani Tea House on Church at Duane Street. Pakistani Tea House serves great Pakistani/Indian food. Their Samosa's and Pakoras are as good as my mother's, and those prepared by our Indian neighbors during my childhood in Africa. It's fun to watch the counterman make the Nan (the flat ridged bread) right there on the hot stone surface. Although the counter ladies can seem a bit tough, they are actually very sweet. And they have great Gulab Jamin (balls of dough soaked in rose syrup), my favorite Indian dessert!! My current fantasy is to rent an available space, which for some reason has remained un-rented forever, at the corner of White Street and W. Broadway. I'd find a terrific short-order cook to prepare simple breakfasts, without attitude. I'm sorry I can't eat at Bubbys (Hudson at N. Moore) because Saturdays and Sundays are reserved for all the people visiting from other cities, countries or NYC neighborhoods. It is fun to walk by Bubbys and see the families and groups of friends gathered together while they are waiting. I call that the visitor breakfast buzz.
I get that same buzz when we eat at Clary's Cafe in Savannah, Georgia. They prepare and serve the best sweet rolls (other than, you guessed it, my mothers). If we're renting a ZipCar car at Leroy Street, we stop in for a quick breakfast at Giorgiones on Greenwich Street. I make sure the owner, Giorgio, a founder of Dean and Delucas, isn't ther). He's really nice, but gruff and he starts hectoring his staff too early in the morning. Giorgiones is a nice space, very minimalist - a long frosted-glass counter with high-backed stools and good (but pricey breakfast). I can overlook their lack of loose tea since the tea quality at Dean and Deluca is not bad. Their cheese/ham grits are very good and their oatmeal can be good, if they don't overdo it with cream). They've got a selection of good egg dishes and the pancakes are tasty.
Farther afield, I was early to an appointment in the E. Village on Saturday, so I made a visit to Veselka's counter and ordered a farina. Their farina is heavenly. No one else even serves it anymore. It wasn't crazy bustling at Veselka's, but it wasn't empty either. I sat and read all the specials up on the wall and was reassured that time passes and yet stays the same.
When she was still in elementary school, big daughter and I used to sit at the counter on Tuesday evenings and have cabbage soup with thin-sliced, slightly sweet challah bread. It would be steamy up front, and the windows would get foggy and we would talk about our day. Over time, we got to know the counter guys, and they'd ask about our day too. This morning though, I had to laugh. As I ate my Farina, there was a lot of drama. The waitress kept getting upset with the counter guy for making the wrong pancakes - literally every 5 minutes. The man sitting next to me started laughing too - we both acknowledged that we've been visiting Veselka for years. We usually visit on week-day mornings, when it's nice and calm. My waiter had a great voice and I wondered if he was an unemployed actor moonlighting as a waiter due to the writer's strike, so I left him an extra-large tip on the Farina.
Monday, December 31, 2007
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Marketplace
I ordered Carl a 15-1b cooked ham from Calhouns, in Culpepper W. Virginia, for Christmas. It was a bit sneaky of me since I wanted to try the ham, but needed to give it to someone in order to do so. Carl is notorious for not liking gifts so I figured food was safe (since he could hardly eat an entire 15 lb ham by himself.) In year's past, Carl has "accidentally" disposed of gifts I gave him i.e. one year, a new pair of very cool Puma sneakers somehow "fell" down the incinerator chute.
I'm happy to report that the ham is pretty yummy (and still in the fridge.) I would have to agree with the shout-outs touting the wonders of Calhoun's hams (on the back page of flyer which came in the package.) The first shout-out was from the chef/owner at The Inn at Little Washington. I've always wanted to eat there, but doubt Carl would accompany me. Oh well, I have the ham, which the chef from the Little Inn apparently likes, so that will have to do for now. Anyway, I was the only one who tried the ham today. It was a bit unnerving to cut off the double-plastic wrap and then snip away at what seemed like a hair net. Carl came into the kitchen and reassured me that he thought the hairnet helped flavor the ham while making it clear that he wasn't hungry. The ham was finely cross hatched all over so I think he's right; the hatching must allow the flavor to seep in. The flyer said the ham is rubbed with "old fashioned cure three times in the first 8 weeks and then hung in the ham house to age six to 12months."
When I ordered the ham, I asked them to send it cooked. The idea of boiling it was a bit off putting to me. I ended up eating slices of the ham with mustard and alternating it with slices of pear. The pears arrived in a Tower of Treats from Harry and David, courtesy of my mother. After a few slices of both, I had a very tiny taste of one little chocolate (also in the Tower of Treats). My appetite is a bit off because I reluctantly agreed to take antibiotics this week and they pretty much ruin me (appetite and energy-wise). Fortunately the ham still tasted good. (My cool new doctor in Chinatown firmly insisted that 8 weeks of bronchitis is a bit extreme and thus prescribed the medicine. So much for my aversion to antibiotics.) At least she didn't quibble with my daily diet of cheese and said it was a good source of calcium.
The rest of the family wasn't hungry because they were able to eat Christmas breakfast at Odessa's, (that good, old Ukrainian standby on Avenue A in the E. Village). Odessa's is our other home-away-from home haunt. Big daughter and I went there for breakfast every Saturday during her childhood. We would meet her little friends there and then go across the street to the playground at Tompkins Square park or roam around the neighborhood gardens ( most of which have become the site of newly-constructed apartment buildings.)
We don't get to Odessa's as much as we used to but it seemed right for Christmas breakfast today. Little one started melting down (I think Santa overexcited her) over the vanilla egg cream and demanded juice, but refused my orange juice. Big Sister looked alarmed, but luckily little one's food arrived - two eggs sunny side up and hash browns. She calmed down as she dipped her bread into the yolks and I ate the sliced steak that came with it. Carl got his usual order of Challah Bread with no butter and orange marmalade. He couldn't resist my order of Challah Bread as well. (His only other meal of the day was homemade crepes and strawberries. After I melted butter for little one, as part of playing "chef" with her new set of toy cookware, I decided not to waste it and made the crepes.) Big daughter was in heaven over her omelet, and two sides of Kielbasa. We didn't see our regular manager this morning but it didn't matter - nothing ever changes at Odessa and that's why we love it. The menu still says Farina even though they stopped making it years ago! By the time we left, Odessa's was jumping.
I have a shout-out of my own for big daughter. She gave me a personalized Breakfast at Tiffany's gift - an Izzy Gold tshirt and a Tiffany's box holding a little silver heart-in-a-heart necklace. When she gets back from a three-week visit to see her father in Belgrade, Yugoslavia, I'll have found us the perfect place for our own real-life Breakfast at Tiffany's. Maybe we'll try a new Viennese cafe I just read about on the Upper West Side.
I'm happy to report that the ham is pretty yummy (and still in the fridge.) I would have to agree with the shout-outs touting the wonders of Calhoun's hams (on the back page of flyer which came in the package.) The first shout-out was from the chef/owner at The Inn at Little Washington. I've always wanted to eat there, but doubt Carl would accompany me. Oh well, I have the ham, which the chef from the Little Inn apparently likes, so that will have to do for now. Anyway, I was the only one who tried the ham today. It was a bit unnerving to cut off the double-plastic wrap and then snip away at what seemed like a hair net. Carl came into the kitchen and reassured me that he thought the hairnet helped flavor the ham while making it clear that he wasn't hungry. The ham was finely cross hatched all over so I think he's right; the hatching must allow the flavor to seep in. The flyer said the ham is rubbed with "old fashioned cure three times in the first 8 weeks and then hung in the ham house to age six to 12months."
When I ordered the ham, I asked them to send it cooked. The idea of boiling it was a bit off putting to me. I ended up eating slices of the ham with mustard and alternating it with slices of pear. The pears arrived in a Tower of Treats from Harry and David, courtesy of my mother. After a few slices of both, I had a very tiny taste of one little chocolate (also in the Tower of Treats). My appetite is a bit off because I reluctantly agreed to take antibiotics this week and they pretty much ruin me (appetite and energy-wise). Fortunately the ham still tasted good. (My cool new doctor in Chinatown firmly insisted that 8 weeks of bronchitis is a bit extreme and thus prescribed the medicine. So much for my aversion to antibiotics.) At least she didn't quibble with my daily diet of cheese and said it was a good source of calcium.
The rest of the family wasn't hungry because they were able to eat Christmas breakfast at Odessa's, (that good, old Ukrainian standby on Avenue A in the E. Village). Odessa's is our other home-away-from home haunt. Big daughter and I went there for breakfast every Saturday during her childhood. We would meet her little friends there and then go across the street to the playground at Tompkins Square park or roam around the neighborhood gardens ( most of which have become the site of newly-constructed apartment buildings.)
We don't get to Odessa's as much as we used to but it seemed right for Christmas breakfast today. Little one started melting down (I think Santa overexcited her) over the vanilla egg cream and demanded juice, but refused my orange juice. Big Sister looked alarmed, but luckily little one's food arrived - two eggs sunny side up and hash browns. She calmed down as she dipped her bread into the yolks and I ate the sliced steak that came with it. Carl got his usual order of Challah Bread with no butter and orange marmalade. He couldn't resist my order of Challah Bread as well. (His only other meal of the day was homemade crepes and strawberries. After I melted butter for little one, as part of playing "chef" with her new set of toy cookware, I decided not to waste it and made the crepes.) Big daughter was in heaven over her omelet, and two sides of Kielbasa. We didn't see our regular manager this morning but it didn't matter - nothing ever changes at Odessa and that's why we love it. The menu still says Farina even though they stopped making it years ago! By the time we left, Odessa's was jumping.
I have a shout-out of my own for big daughter. She gave me a personalized Breakfast at Tiffany's gift - an Izzy Gold tshirt and a Tiffany's box holding a little silver heart-in-a-heart necklace. When she gets back from a three-week visit to see her father in Belgrade, Yugoslavia, I'll have found us the perfect place for our own real-life Breakfast at Tiffany's. Maybe we'll try a new Viennese cafe I just read about on the Upper West Side.
Christmas Eve at Lanza's
It's becoming a tradition to have Christmas Eve dinner with our friends Sharon, Harry and their five-year-old twins at Sal Anthony's Lanza's, an Italian restaurant in the E. Village on First Avenue at 10th street. I've been eating here since the mid-1980s, first as a young, wide-eyed college graduate new-to-the city, then as a single mother of then-little-now-Big Daughter, and now as a mother of one big and one little daughter.
Sal Anthony's Lanza's has become a special place to me over the years, filling in as a home-away-from-home during those tumultuous years when home was my E. Village apartment. As a restaurant, it manages to be both homey and comfortable. Holiday meals there are special yet remain down-to-earth. As I was leaving last night, I overheard one diner explaining to his table mate that he needed to do something with his jaw (I assume plastic surgery). I mistakenly thought I'd lost little one's coat (it was at my E. village apt). When I went in to look for it, the family eating at the adjacent table was helpful and tried to help me find it.
Around Christmas last year, three of us from work impulsively decided to have lunch at Sal Anthony's Lanza's. My boss ended up joining us for lunch and it turned into a wonderful holiday moment. While we were eating, a fellow diner began singing an Aria. After he was finished, we resumed our conversation and continued eating until he burst into another Aria. It was opera at lunch.
Big daughter's high school graduation dinner was also held there this past June - an interesting mix of friends and family. And for the past two years, we've met Carl's mom there for the Thanksgiving meal, which is always very tasty. I love that cranberry sauce. The first year, after our meal ended, we sat and talked for awhile. Surprisingly, there no pressure to leave. We checked to see if they needed the table. When they said no, we ordered more dessert and coffee while it poured buckets outside. This year, the meeting did not go so well, but the food remained great. No matter how difficult the company, the food and ambiance at Sal Anthony's Lanza's always carries the evening. Many of the staff have been working there for several years and we are always warmly acknowledged.
Last night, we adults were quite lacking in yuletide cheer having braved far too many personal challenges this year. Little one, and the female half of the twins, compensated for our lackluster spirits as they played with small gifts that were handed out at the beginning of dinner. As I told Carl and big daughter afterwards, I think the point of holiday dinners is simply to be with each other - perhaps more so during difficult times. Having survived the year, what's truly meaningful is that we all managed to show up.
In a similar vein, over the years, I've watched the restaurant evolve from an old, almost-forgotten place into a vibrant, energetic neighborhood spot. In the mid-80s, it was a shadowy place - dimly lit and slightly menacing. It was hard to really see the murals (they are painted directly on the walls), and saturnine-looking waiters moved ponderously about the place. The experience could be likened to a culinary riff on the movie Blue Velvet. Luckily, in the early 90s, the place metamorphosed into a real neighborhood spot.
Whenever big daughter left elementary school early for a doctor/dental appointment, her treat afterwards was lunch at Sal Anthony's Lanza's. In those days, lunch was a real bargain, but it was also much more than that. She and I were regulars, and for our little family of two that went a long way. In those years, she and I spent many holidays there with friends and visiting family members: Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve lunch etc. Ronnie, the manager, reminisced with me during her high school graduation dinner about how she would play in the old 1930s style phone booth near the front door.
The phone booth is gone now, as is an adjacent table that displayed the desserts (fresh strawberries and whipped cream, ricotta cheese cake and tiramisu). They took the phone booth out to make room for more tables and created a bar in the middle of the room. And last night I noticed that there were some new menu choices. Along with the melon and prosciutto, which is one of my favorites, and the mozzarella and peppers, and the calamari and Arugula salad, there was for the first time, mussels in marinara sauce and cod and bacalao. I also saw a new pasta with wild boar and venison, a whiting dish and a new cod dish I'd never seen as well.
I didn't order an entree figuring I'd just eat a lot of the different appetizers and that was exactly what I did. It was perfect to have a taste of everything; I especially liked the mussels. The three little ones shared an order of spaghetti, Carl ordered the cod (didn't like it) and big daughter ordered chicken rollatini that she loved. Sharon and Harry shared the Veal Scallopini and finished it all.
After dinner, we went next door to De Robertis Bakery and bought cookies, biscotti and limone (lemony, donut-like cookies) for big daughter to bring over to her boyfriend's house on Christmas Day. De Robertis was minutes from closing; our bakery man said he was "vestless" because he thought he "was going home," but still graciously filled our order. Little one scored two Anisette-flavored biscotti - one plain and one-half dipped in chocolate. We discussed whether the chocolate-dipped side should be visible, or wrapped as she finished the plain biscotti.
I told our bakery man that back when I lived around the corner, (at 12th and 1st from 1982 to 1986), I would get the fig cookies when I didn't feel well. Those were also the days when my Greek landlord, Spiro, was always trying to hawk things to me, "I have Ringo's guitar - would you like to buy?". He would open his door and offer me homemade soup as I walked the five flights to my rickety railroad-style apartment with the shower in the kitchen on the top floor. But back to the bakery man, he shuddered and said he hated figs. He couldn't believe that was what made me feel better - so much for nostalgic memories.
Sal Anthony's Lanza's has become a special place to me over the years, filling in as a home-away-from-home during those tumultuous years when home was my E. Village apartment. As a restaurant, it manages to be both homey and comfortable. Holiday meals there are special yet remain down-to-earth. As I was leaving last night, I overheard one diner explaining to his table mate that he needed to do something with his jaw (I assume plastic surgery). I mistakenly thought I'd lost little one's coat (it was at my E. village apt). When I went in to look for it, the family eating at the adjacent table was helpful and tried to help me find it.
Around Christmas last year, three of us from work impulsively decided to have lunch at Sal Anthony's Lanza's. My boss ended up joining us for lunch and it turned into a wonderful holiday moment. While we were eating, a fellow diner began singing an Aria. After he was finished, we resumed our conversation and continued eating until he burst into another Aria. It was opera at lunch.
Big daughter's high school graduation dinner was also held there this past June - an interesting mix of friends and family. And for the past two years, we've met Carl's mom there for the Thanksgiving meal, which is always very tasty. I love that cranberry sauce. The first year, after our meal ended, we sat and talked for awhile. Surprisingly, there no pressure to leave. We checked to see if they needed the table. When they said no, we ordered more dessert and coffee while it poured buckets outside. This year, the meeting did not go so well, but the food remained great. No matter how difficult the company, the food and ambiance at Sal Anthony's Lanza's always carries the evening. Many of the staff have been working there for several years and we are always warmly acknowledged.
Last night, we adults were quite lacking in yuletide cheer having braved far too many personal challenges this year. Little one, and the female half of the twins, compensated for our lackluster spirits as they played with small gifts that were handed out at the beginning of dinner. As I told Carl and big daughter afterwards, I think the point of holiday dinners is simply to be with each other - perhaps more so during difficult times. Having survived the year, what's truly meaningful is that we all managed to show up.
In a similar vein, over the years, I've watched the restaurant evolve from an old, almost-forgotten place into a vibrant, energetic neighborhood spot. In the mid-80s, it was a shadowy place - dimly lit and slightly menacing. It was hard to really see the murals (they are painted directly on the walls), and saturnine-looking waiters moved ponderously about the place. The experience could be likened to a culinary riff on the movie Blue Velvet. Luckily, in the early 90s, the place metamorphosed into a real neighborhood spot.
Whenever big daughter left elementary school early for a doctor/dental appointment, her treat afterwards was lunch at Sal Anthony's Lanza's. In those days, lunch was a real bargain, but it was also much more than that. She and I were regulars, and for our little family of two that went a long way. In those years, she and I spent many holidays there with friends and visiting family members: Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve lunch etc. Ronnie, the manager, reminisced with me during her high school graduation dinner about how she would play in the old 1930s style phone booth near the front door.
The phone booth is gone now, as is an adjacent table that displayed the desserts (fresh strawberries and whipped cream, ricotta cheese cake and tiramisu). They took the phone booth out to make room for more tables and created a bar in the middle of the room. And last night I noticed that there were some new menu choices. Along with the melon and prosciutto, which is one of my favorites, and the mozzarella and peppers, and the calamari and Arugula salad, there was for the first time, mussels in marinara sauce and cod and bacalao. I also saw a new pasta with wild boar and venison, a whiting dish and a new cod dish I'd never seen as well.
I didn't order an entree figuring I'd just eat a lot of the different appetizers and that was exactly what I did. It was perfect to have a taste of everything; I especially liked the mussels. The three little ones shared an order of spaghetti, Carl ordered the cod (didn't like it) and big daughter ordered chicken rollatini that she loved. Sharon and Harry shared the Veal Scallopini and finished it all.
After dinner, we went next door to De Robertis Bakery and bought cookies, biscotti and limone (lemony, donut-like cookies) for big daughter to bring over to her boyfriend's house on Christmas Day. De Robertis was minutes from closing; our bakery man said he was "vestless" because he thought he "was going home," but still graciously filled our order. Little one scored two Anisette-flavored biscotti - one plain and one-half dipped in chocolate. We discussed whether the chocolate-dipped side should be visible, or wrapped as she finished the plain biscotti.
I told our bakery man that back when I lived around the corner, (at 12th and 1st from 1982 to 1986), I would get the fig cookies when I didn't feel well. Those were also the days when my Greek landlord, Spiro, was always trying to hawk things to me, "I have Ringo's guitar - would you like to buy?". He would open his door and offer me homemade soup as I walked the five flights to my rickety railroad-style apartment with the shower in the kitchen on the top floor. But back to the bakery man, he shuddered and said he hated figs. He couldn't believe that was what made me feel better - so much for nostalgic memories.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Lunching in Willliamsburg
Lunch in Williamsburg has become a much bigger deal in the five years I've been working on the South Side (literally next to the Williamsburg Bridge). During lunch, it's fun to walk around and pick out places that definitely did not exist in 1989 when I was a new, single mother living on N. 5th between Driggs/Roebling streets. Each time I walk down Metropolitan Avenue to the Roebling Tea Room, I think back to the days when Metropolitan was the dividing line between the relative safety of Greenpoint and the "wild" South side. At that time, the truly intrepid lived on the South-numbered streets (in very cool apartments, I might add). I remember going to a party on S. 2nd street; you would have thought I was heading to Beirut. In the end it was a nice party and a neighborhood of real people doing what we all do. These days there are all kinds of places to eat and drink scattered around the South side and I much prefer being there than on Avenue of the Hipsters aka Bedford Avenue. Here are some of my lunch favorites:
Roebling Tea Room - (143 Roebling/Metropolitan Avenue)They carry a selection of teas that are truly flavorful. Because of Roebling, I now say things like "is it loose tea or a tea bag" and wince when I do so, but there's a difference, sorry. At Roebling Tea Room, I mostly focus on the black teas. I've fallen into a rut of ordering Mandala Chai, with or without caffeine depending on my energy level. I'm happy to report that the other day, I tried a black vanilla. On other occasions, I've tried the Assam and the Darjeeling but I always return to the Mandala Chai.
Along with the teas, there is a good selection of food. I've noticed the menu has changed a few times for the better. Most of the time I opt for the soup of the day; last week it was a butternut squash which hit the spot. I have a thing about bread. I love it, but it doesn't do my figure well, so I try not to eat more than a crumb of it. The other day I ordered the pork sandwich after deliberating between that and oatmeal. The waitress couldn't help me decide because she said she doesn't eat pork. Once the sandwich arrived, I ate the pork, leaving aside the fried egg and the bread. I noticed that most of my fellow diners happily ate their entire sandwich. The homemade potato chips that accompanied the sandwich were excellent. I've gotten semi-friendly with Michael (the tea/coffee somnelier). He's always willing to discuss politics and give me steamed soy milk with my tea.
Pies-N-Thighs (351 Kent Avenue) - I should admit from the onset that I AM IN LOVE with this place. During the summer- at least once a week- I make the trek over to Pies-N-Thighs. My walk meanders past some construction sites of new apartment buildings and through neighborhoods with well-kept buildings mixed in with bodegas, dry cleaners and small hip restaurants. I keep walking by Papa Lima (a new sandwich place), but am always dead set on getting to Pies-N-Thighs. Once there, I sit in the small backyard - some have compared it to a comfortable prison yard - where I read my paper and observe the other diners while the traffic whizzes by above on the Williamsburg Bridge.
Each time I visit, the sight of the large weeping willow tree on the water's edge at the end of the block gives me pause. It feels very southern-Confederate-era and I channel Savannah, Georgia, Beaufort, South Carolina, and the food at BoBque (a favorite place to eat next to a gas station on Edisto Island, South Carolina where we have spent a fair amount of time.) Sarah, one of the owners of Pies-N-Thighs, literally infuses the food she makes with love. I am one of many who makes a pilgrimage for peace of mind and a piece of pie.
For lunch, I usually opt for the catfish with a splash of hot sauce and a side of cucumber salad, or get the iceberg salad with bacon bits and no egg. I cannot leave without picking up some crumble-of-the-day, be it blueberry/rhubarb, peach, a large rice krispie bar, a piece of pie or usually all of the above. Big daughter is also a huge fan. So much so, that I was dispatched to Pies-N-Thighs one cold day in February to get the food she wanted for her 18th birthday party. I was trying to figure out how I would carry all the food back on the J train to Manhattan. Luckily a co-worker drove me.
At least once every two weeks, big daughter heads out on the J train and off we go for her favorite lunch (aka birthday dinner): fried chicken, biscuits, macncheese and cheesy grits with a little salsa verde. After that, she usually ends up getting a cookie and lemonade and the sweet tea. Then she talks me into hiking back over to Metropolitan and visiting Cheeks Bakery. If I am alone, it's fun to walk back to work looping around Diner and down Broadway to my office on Havemeyer. One time, I was treated to a concert of jazzy sounding piano music as I walked past Bembe, a popular bar in Williamsburg.
Cheeks Bakery (378 Metropolitan Avenue to the right when Havemeyer ends)is truly an artisanal bakery. Melanie (the head baker and owner) makes all manner of cakes (German Chocolate with caramel frosting, Red Velvet, and Vanilla to name a few) I have been known to order a cake just to celebrate my team's good work. I always order them for staff birthdays. Melanie also makes homemade granola, little lemon tarts and all kinds of cupcakes along with crumbly scone-like biscuits with cheese and pear/or apple.
There has been some mumbling on Chowhound about Melanie's fierceness re: customers' questions and their attempts to order all her cookies (she has a limit of 10 and you must order birthday cakes 24 hours in advance.) I see no problem with these requests because the quality of her baked goods is truly wonderful. Melanie does not suffer fools gladly and that's who she is. Which reminds me, last year Melanie unearthed some gorgeous old molds from the bar across the street. She made some beautiful looking and great tasting gingerbread figures that were kind of ancient looking and sculptural. (Carl eventually ate them all after I put them on a table as decoration during a party).
Taco Chulo (253 Grand street off Havemeyer). Quite by accident,listening to the owner offer a regular a taste of Hot Toddy, I ended up tasting it. I discovered that a few sips is great for a)an ongoing cough and b) settling my nerves. With lemon juice, cloves, hot water and a shot of whiskey, the Hot Toddy restores my blood flow and quiets my cough. I've found it somewhat comforting to drink three sips of a Hot Toddy while eating their Chula salad, which is shredded cabbage, either fish/meat/vegetable, beans and rice. I usually forgo the rice and beans in favor of spinach and a shot of guacamole.
Buffalo Cantina (149 Havemeyer at S. 2nd) has all kinds of Mexican food (burritos, tortas, tacos, and salads). They are definitely not tacky Mexican. I love their shrimp tacos because they include tons of cilantro, raw onion and a great salsa. Their black bean soup never disappoints. I can remember laboring over black bean soup many years ago. Those beans have to soak for hours. When I request more chopped raw onion and grated cheese to go with their black bean soup, the guys at Buffalo Cantina are extremely obliging. We communicate in Spanish and they are patient when I momentarily mix up words. Their sopa de tortilla is especially good on a cold day. They also have horchata, a sweet, milky mexican rice drink which is served cold that's good in the summer.
Diner (85 Broadway at Berry Street) is another favorite place to eat lunch. I'm there mostly in the summer because I can sit outside by myself and read. On my way there, I walk down Broadway past Peter Lugers and an old bank. As I walk, I observe the mix of Orthodox and Spanish families along with the hipsters. It's fun to see the Wall Street traders parking their Porsche's at Peter Luger's private parking lot and then heading into the restaurant to eat their manly steaks. (I've gone in for the hamburger at lunch - a good bargain. It's a man's world in there, but there's still room for people like me). Every few minutes, the B61 bus to Red Hook rumbles by and I am always surprised by the sign for Red Hook on the front of the bus. I think of Red Hook as being far away, but I suppose it's all on the water. The fact that Diner is one block from the water adds to its charm. As I sit in the sun, I feel like I'm by the sea.
My favorite time to eat at Diner is mid-summer when the kitchen makes Italian-style bread salads with a mix of just-picked ripe, flavorful heirloom tomatoes. That salad is to die for -eating those tomatoes is an ethereal experience. This is another favorite place for big daughter to meet me for lunch. After we listen to the waiter/waitress write down all the specials on our paper tablecloth, we deliberate over our choices and then make our selections. Once in a blue moon, big daughter just opts for the pressed ham sandwich listed on the little menu provided to diners. After lunch it's always fun to go next door to Marlow and Sons (81 Broadway) and browse. There is a large assortment of honeys, English and Australian chocolate bars and a whole lot of other speciality foods. We usually peruse the baked goods and settle on some sweet thing. For the goodbye dinner of my predecessor at this program, we traipsed off to Marlow and Sons (my idea of course) for small plates of oysters and cheese.
The staff at the outpt. clinic upstairs turned me on to a divey, really great chicken place on Broadway (past Marcy Avenue) called Chicken Q (341 Broadway). They also have really good pernil (roast pork). Every once in a while, big daughter gets a craving for a traditional Spanish lunch of rice/beans, roast chicken and plantanos and that's her spot. (I'm certain that one of the scenes in the movie Enchanted was filmed at the SRO next door to Chicken Q. Of course, in the movie it was transformed into a luxury hotel room. I recognized the SRO doorway when I saw the movie with little one the other day.)
Over on Bedford Avenue at South 2nd, there is Bonita, (which I mentioned in a previous post). There is also DuMont Burger at S. 3rd, the less-expensive sibling of Dressler, a fancy restaurant located on Broadway, a stone's throw from Peter Luger. DuMont Burger has great burgers (small and little) and good macaroni and cheese and one sits bar style. It can be a bit off-putting to go in when it's crowded. I haven't eaten at Dressler, but I love looking at the dramatic flower arrangements in the window as I walk to Diner.
Roebling Tea Room - (143 Roebling/Metropolitan Avenue)They carry a selection of teas that are truly flavorful. Because of Roebling, I now say things like "is it loose tea or a tea bag" and wince when I do so, but there's a difference, sorry. At Roebling Tea Room, I mostly focus on the black teas. I've fallen into a rut of ordering Mandala Chai, with or without caffeine depending on my energy level. I'm happy to report that the other day, I tried a black vanilla. On other occasions, I've tried the Assam and the Darjeeling but I always return to the Mandala Chai.
Along with the teas, there is a good selection of food. I've noticed the menu has changed a few times for the better. Most of the time I opt for the soup of the day; last week it was a butternut squash which hit the spot. I have a thing about bread. I love it, but it doesn't do my figure well, so I try not to eat more than a crumb of it. The other day I ordered the pork sandwich after deliberating between that and oatmeal. The waitress couldn't help me decide because she said she doesn't eat pork. Once the sandwich arrived, I ate the pork, leaving aside the fried egg and the bread. I noticed that most of my fellow diners happily ate their entire sandwich. The homemade potato chips that accompanied the sandwich were excellent. I've gotten semi-friendly with Michael (the tea/coffee somnelier). He's always willing to discuss politics and give me steamed soy milk with my tea.
Pies-N-Thighs (351 Kent Avenue) - I should admit from the onset that I AM IN LOVE with this place. During the summer- at least once a week- I make the trek over to Pies-N-Thighs. My walk meanders past some construction sites of new apartment buildings and through neighborhoods with well-kept buildings mixed in with bodegas, dry cleaners and small hip restaurants. I keep walking by Papa Lima (a new sandwich place), but am always dead set on getting to Pies-N-Thighs. Once there, I sit in the small backyard - some have compared it to a comfortable prison yard - where I read my paper and observe the other diners while the traffic whizzes by above on the Williamsburg Bridge.
Each time I visit, the sight of the large weeping willow tree on the water's edge at the end of the block gives me pause. It feels very southern-Confederate-era and I channel Savannah, Georgia, Beaufort, South Carolina, and the food at BoBque (a favorite place to eat next to a gas station on Edisto Island, South Carolina where we have spent a fair amount of time.) Sarah, one of the owners of Pies-N-Thighs, literally infuses the food she makes with love. I am one of many who makes a pilgrimage for peace of mind and a piece of pie.
For lunch, I usually opt for the catfish with a splash of hot sauce and a side of cucumber salad, or get the iceberg salad with bacon bits and no egg. I cannot leave without picking up some crumble-of-the-day, be it blueberry/rhubarb, peach, a large rice krispie bar, a piece of pie or usually all of the above. Big daughter is also a huge fan. So much so, that I was dispatched to Pies-N-Thighs one cold day in February to get the food she wanted for her 18th birthday party. I was trying to figure out how I would carry all the food back on the J train to Manhattan. Luckily a co-worker drove me.
At least once every two weeks, big daughter heads out on the J train and off we go for her favorite lunch (aka birthday dinner): fried chicken, biscuits, macncheese and cheesy grits with a little salsa verde. After that, she usually ends up getting a cookie and lemonade and the sweet tea. Then she talks me into hiking back over to Metropolitan and visiting Cheeks Bakery. If I am alone, it's fun to walk back to work looping around Diner and down Broadway to my office on Havemeyer. One time, I was treated to a concert of jazzy sounding piano music as I walked past Bembe, a popular bar in Williamsburg.
Cheeks Bakery (378 Metropolitan Avenue to the right when Havemeyer ends)is truly an artisanal bakery. Melanie (the head baker and owner) makes all manner of cakes (German Chocolate with caramel frosting, Red Velvet, and Vanilla to name a few) I have been known to order a cake just to celebrate my team's good work. I always order them for staff birthdays. Melanie also makes homemade granola, little lemon tarts and all kinds of cupcakes along with crumbly scone-like biscuits with cheese and pear/or apple.
There has been some mumbling on Chowhound about Melanie's fierceness re: customers' questions and their attempts to order all her cookies (she has a limit of 10 and you must order birthday cakes 24 hours in advance.) I see no problem with these requests because the quality of her baked goods is truly wonderful. Melanie does not suffer fools gladly and that's who she is. Which reminds me, last year Melanie unearthed some gorgeous old molds from the bar across the street. She made some beautiful looking and great tasting gingerbread figures that were kind of ancient looking and sculptural. (Carl eventually ate them all after I put them on a table as decoration during a party).
Taco Chulo (253 Grand street off Havemeyer). Quite by accident,listening to the owner offer a regular a taste of Hot Toddy, I ended up tasting it. I discovered that a few sips is great for a)an ongoing cough and b) settling my nerves. With lemon juice, cloves, hot water and a shot of whiskey, the Hot Toddy restores my blood flow and quiets my cough. I've found it somewhat comforting to drink three sips of a Hot Toddy while eating their Chula salad, which is shredded cabbage, either fish/meat/vegetable, beans and rice. I usually forgo the rice and beans in favor of spinach and a shot of guacamole.
Buffalo Cantina (149 Havemeyer at S. 2nd) has all kinds of Mexican food (burritos, tortas, tacos, and salads). They are definitely not tacky Mexican. I love their shrimp tacos because they include tons of cilantro, raw onion and a great salsa. Their black bean soup never disappoints. I can remember laboring over black bean soup many years ago. Those beans have to soak for hours. When I request more chopped raw onion and grated cheese to go with their black bean soup, the guys at Buffalo Cantina are extremely obliging. We communicate in Spanish and they are patient when I momentarily mix up words. Their sopa de tortilla is especially good on a cold day. They also have horchata, a sweet, milky mexican rice drink which is served cold that's good in the summer.
Diner (85 Broadway at Berry Street) is another favorite place to eat lunch. I'm there mostly in the summer because I can sit outside by myself and read. On my way there, I walk down Broadway past Peter Lugers and an old bank. As I walk, I observe the mix of Orthodox and Spanish families along with the hipsters. It's fun to see the Wall Street traders parking their Porsche's at Peter Luger's private parking lot and then heading into the restaurant to eat their manly steaks. (I've gone in for the hamburger at lunch - a good bargain. It's a man's world in there, but there's still room for people like me). Every few minutes, the B61 bus to Red Hook rumbles by and I am always surprised by the sign for Red Hook on the front of the bus. I think of Red Hook as being far away, but I suppose it's all on the water. The fact that Diner is one block from the water adds to its charm. As I sit in the sun, I feel like I'm by the sea.
My favorite time to eat at Diner is mid-summer when the kitchen makes Italian-style bread salads with a mix of just-picked ripe, flavorful heirloom tomatoes. That salad is to die for -eating those tomatoes is an ethereal experience. This is another favorite place for big daughter to meet me for lunch. After we listen to the waiter/waitress write down all the specials on our paper tablecloth, we deliberate over our choices and then make our selections. Once in a blue moon, big daughter just opts for the pressed ham sandwich listed on the little menu provided to diners. After lunch it's always fun to go next door to Marlow and Sons (81 Broadway) and browse. There is a large assortment of honeys, English and Australian chocolate bars and a whole lot of other speciality foods. We usually peruse the baked goods and settle on some sweet thing. For the goodbye dinner of my predecessor at this program, we traipsed off to Marlow and Sons (my idea of course) for small plates of oysters and cheese.
The staff at the outpt. clinic upstairs turned me on to a divey, really great chicken place on Broadway (past Marcy Avenue) called Chicken Q (341 Broadway). They also have really good pernil (roast pork). Every once in a while, big daughter gets a craving for a traditional Spanish lunch of rice/beans, roast chicken and plantanos and that's her spot. (I'm certain that one of the scenes in the movie Enchanted was filmed at the SRO next door to Chicken Q. Of course, in the movie it was transformed into a luxury hotel room. I recognized the SRO doorway when I saw the movie with little one the other day.)
Over on Bedford Avenue at South 2nd, there is Bonita, (which I mentioned in a previous post). There is also DuMont Burger at S. 3rd, the less-expensive sibling of Dressler, a fancy restaurant located on Broadway, a stone's throw from Peter Luger. DuMont Burger has great burgers (small and little) and good macaroni and cheese and one sits bar style. It can be a bit off-putting to go in when it's crowded. I haven't eaten at Dressler, but I love looking at the dramatic flower arrangements in the window as I walk to Diner.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Thursday Night "Date Night" on Hiatus
Thursday night date night was temporarily suspended this week leaving me benched. The combination of basketball (Duke vs. Pittsburgh) and the South Beach vacation of Cyndi (our little one's amazing caregiver) sidelined any hopes I harbored of engaging in uninterrupted adult conversation with Carl. (Luckily, there was time for adult conversation today during a holiday lunch at Chanterelle with my friend Maria, but that's another post). I'm anticipating more Thursday night cancellations in February and March during March Madness. Fortunately, I think I can enlist my friend Emily to join me for Thursday night dinner during that time.
In prior years, I made the trek up to Madison Square Garden (MSG) and enjoyed watching the Pittsburgh players (not the least because many of them appeared to be football players sidelining as basketball players, and yet remained amazingly light on their feet.) This year, I wasn't too keen on watching the Duke players. For me, Duke is too much of a well-oiled powerhouse and many of the players seem to be already playing for the NBA which defeats the excitement of college basketball.
Even the offer of Korean food - Carl and I have many favorite Korean restaurants on 32nd street between 5th and 6th - couldn't entice me to head up to MSG. Despite my enormous love for kimchi (spicy pickled cabbage) and pan chan, (the assorted small gratis offerings of pickled vegetables, raw fish or meat - some spicy and some bland - that accompany every meal in a Korean restaurant), I opted to trudge disconsolately downtown. It seemed prudent to go home and console my bruised soul with crackers and Olga cheese (courtesy of Saxelby Cheese).
Unfortunately, my Montrachet cheese from Max at Formaggio Essex had dried up because I kept eating spoonfuls and did not wrap it properly. Eating Montrachet is like eating fresh cream. But back to Korean food... My very first date with Carl was at Gahm Mi Oak (43W. 32nd Street between 5th/Broadway). I remember being extremely impressed that he not only suggested a type of food that had been on my shortlist for awhile, but also invited big daughter along. She didn't go, but the thought counted.
For some reason, on that first date, Carl wore an inordinate amount of clothing: two sweaters and a jacket (was it that cold in mid June, or was he even skinnier back then?) Looking back, it's clear that my willingness to share food was crucial to the possibility of future developments between us. Our first meal together foretold a lot. The restaurant was (and remains) a clean, spartan space and the style of the food matched the setting. I've since figured out that Carl doesn't like things complicated.
We shared a thick soup with noodles and vegetables and a Korean beer. The soup is called sollongtang and is famous as a hangover cure (we don't drink but perhaps we needed a different kind of cure.) Since then, after repeated visits to 32nd Street, I've become enamored with the big, overblown Korean bbq style places where you sit at a table with a gas grill and sear pieces of meat, fish or vegetables, which arrive all diced/sliced and chopped. There is something extremely comforting about eating Korean food while presiding over your own personal fire-burning grill. Even the way the waiter/waitress lights the grill appeals to me. The process is so organized and orderly, I wonder how the world can ever seem unpredictable.
For awhile, we were returning to Kang Suh (1250 Broadway - on the opposite corner of that horrible Manhattan Mall) and sitting upstairs to do BBQ. When we saw that the waiters were unhappy about our request to share one order to grill, we decided to move on. It was impossible to eat that much food. After that, we opted for Mandoo Bar (further down 32nd - closer to 5th Avenue). Mandoo Bar is smaller and has more snack-like offerings, which are perfect for us. There is a large glass window through which passerbys observe the making of dumplings, which come filled with pork and scallion or kimchee.I think there was (briefly) a Mandoo Bar at University and 11th Street (between Dean and Delucas and Patsy's Pizzeria). It seemed out of place and ultimately closed.
Hangawi (12 E. 32nd Street between Madison and Fifth Avenue) is a completely different kind of Korean restaurant - very zen-like and root-vegetable oriented. Diners sit in their own little self-enclosed rooms, which are very peaceful. I'm recollecting the sound of water gurgling around us. During a meal with Carl's mother, we all managed to remain calm and tranquil and I remember cold sweetened teas that tasted like tropical juices.
Recently, we tried (and liked) a new favorite place. I think it's called Hang Suh (on 32nd closer to 5th Avenue.) Carl's former co-worker JoAnne had also recommended we try it. We were lucky enough to be seated immediately. Usually, there is a horrifically long line. Indeed, such a line started to form as soon as we began eating. I thought perhaps I should eat very fast, but the waiter seemed to be in no hurry so I followed his lead.
Re: Korean food downtown: Li Hua (Grand at Baxter). I think they are connected with Mandoo Bar -the clean, mod design of the space is very similar. Li Hua is not as bright and warm as Mandoo Bar, but the food is very good especially during winter. Whenever my big daughter and I eat there, ColdPlay is on the soundtrack and we inevitably lapse into melancholia at some point during our meal. She has even become teary at times so we keep that in mind when heading over to Li Hua. I always get the BibimBop, a rice/vegetable dish that is served sizzling hot in a little stone pot. I prefer it without egg. If you eat it with egg, the raw egg yolk is mixed in by the waiter/waitress tableside. I like eating the different vegetables resting on top of the rice while they are still very hot. I add dashes of the hot red sauce as I do this.
Most people love the very crispy rice at the bottom but I ate too much rice as a child. With an Indian father, we literally ate rice every day and I cannot eat one grain more. Big daughter and I usually share the crisp avocado salad with carrot dressing. She always orders the Beef Bulgogi. This requires that she enter into protracted negotiations with the waiter/waitress to substitute lettuce for the rice. Although we offer to pay for the heads of lettuce involved in the substitution, it always unnerves the staff. Almost every diner in Li Hau seems to involve the seafood style pancake (called hae mool pajun)which looks like a eggy pizza and is actually very tastya>
In prior years, I made the trek up to Madison Square Garden (MSG) and enjoyed watching the Pittsburgh players (not the least because many of them appeared to be football players sidelining as basketball players, and yet remained amazingly light on their feet.) This year, I wasn't too keen on watching the Duke players. For me, Duke is too much of a well-oiled powerhouse and many of the players seem to be already playing for the NBA which defeats the excitement of college basketball.
Even the offer of Korean food - Carl and I have many favorite Korean restaurants on 32nd street between 5th and 6th - couldn't entice me to head up to MSG. Despite my enormous love for kimchi (spicy pickled cabbage) and pan chan, (the assorted small gratis offerings of pickled vegetables, raw fish or meat - some spicy and some bland - that accompany every meal in a Korean restaurant), I opted to trudge disconsolately downtown. It seemed prudent to go home and console my bruised soul with crackers and Olga cheese (courtesy of Saxelby Cheese).
Unfortunately, my Montrachet cheese from Max at Formaggio Essex had dried up because I kept eating spoonfuls and did not wrap it properly. Eating Montrachet is like eating fresh cream. But back to Korean food... My very first date with Carl was at Gahm Mi Oak (43W. 32nd Street between 5th/Broadway). I remember being extremely impressed that he not only suggested a type of food that had been on my shortlist for awhile, but also invited big daughter along. She didn't go, but the thought counted.
For some reason, on that first date, Carl wore an inordinate amount of clothing: two sweaters and a jacket (was it that cold in mid June, or was he even skinnier back then?) Looking back, it's clear that my willingness to share food was crucial to the possibility of future developments between us. Our first meal together foretold a lot. The restaurant was (and remains) a clean, spartan space and the style of the food matched the setting. I've since figured out that Carl doesn't like things complicated.
We shared a thick soup with noodles and vegetables and a Korean beer. The soup is called sollongtang and is famous as a hangover cure (we don't drink but perhaps we needed a different kind of cure.) Since then, after repeated visits to 32nd Street, I've become enamored with the big, overblown Korean bbq style places where you sit at a table with a gas grill and sear pieces of meat, fish or vegetables, which arrive all diced/sliced and chopped. There is something extremely comforting about eating Korean food while presiding over your own personal fire-burning grill. Even the way the waiter/waitress lights the grill appeals to me. The process is so organized and orderly, I wonder how the world can ever seem unpredictable.
For awhile, we were returning to Kang Suh (1250 Broadway - on the opposite corner of that horrible Manhattan Mall) and sitting upstairs to do BBQ. When we saw that the waiters were unhappy about our request to share one order to grill, we decided to move on. It was impossible to eat that much food. After that, we opted for Mandoo Bar (further down 32nd - closer to 5th Avenue). Mandoo Bar is smaller and has more snack-like offerings, which are perfect for us. There is a large glass window through which passerbys observe the making of dumplings, which come filled with pork and scallion or kimchee.I think there was (briefly) a Mandoo Bar at University and 11th Street (between Dean and Delucas and Patsy's Pizzeria). It seemed out of place and ultimately closed.
Hangawi (12 E. 32nd Street between Madison and Fifth Avenue) is a completely different kind of Korean restaurant - very zen-like and root-vegetable oriented. Diners sit in their own little self-enclosed rooms, which are very peaceful. I'm recollecting the sound of water gurgling around us. During a meal with Carl's mother, we all managed to remain calm and tranquil and I remember cold sweetened teas that tasted like tropical juices.
Recently, we tried (and liked) a new favorite place. I think it's called Hang Suh (on 32nd closer to 5th Avenue.) Carl's former co-worker JoAnne had also recommended we try it. We were lucky enough to be seated immediately. Usually, there is a horrifically long line. Indeed, such a line started to form as soon as we began eating. I thought perhaps I should eat very fast, but the waiter seemed to be in no hurry so I followed his lead.
Re: Korean food downtown: Li Hua (Grand at Baxter). I think they are connected with Mandoo Bar -the clean, mod design of the space is very similar. Li Hua is not as bright and warm as Mandoo Bar, but the food is very good especially during winter. Whenever my big daughter and I eat there, ColdPlay is on the soundtrack and we inevitably lapse into melancholia at some point during our meal. She has even become teary at times so we keep that in mind when heading over to Li Hua. I always get the BibimBop, a rice/vegetable dish that is served sizzling hot in a little stone pot. I prefer it without egg. If you eat it with egg, the raw egg yolk is mixed in by the waiter/waitress tableside. I like eating the different vegetables resting on top of the rice while they are still very hot. I add dashes of the hot red sauce as I do this.
Most people love the very crispy rice at the bottom but I ate too much rice as a child. With an Indian father, we literally ate rice every day and I cannot eat one grain more. Big daughter and I usually share the crisp avocado salad with carrot dressing. She always orders the Beef Bulgogi. This requires that she enter into protracted negotiations with the waiter/waitress to substitute lettuce for the rice. Although we offer to pay for the heads of lettuce involved in the substitution, it always unnerves the staff. Almost every diner in Li Hau seems to involve the seafood style pancake (called hae mool pajun)which looks like a eggy pizza and is actually very tastya>
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Wintermarket Goodies
Despite the sleety, windy rainy weather, we (along with a lot of hardy souls in search of good food) braved the elements to go check out the Wintermarket at the old Fulton Fish Market at the South Street Seaport this past Sunday. It was hard to get too close to some of the stands but we managed to get some pickles from Ricks Picks and great cookies (with actual ginger slices in them) from Milk 'n Cookies.
We also scored some really crunchy apples from the Marlow and Sons stand. I usually walk over to Marlow and Sons a few times a month to get honey (they have many different kinds of honey) and/or Smarties (which remind me of my childhood in Kumasi, Ghana - don't say anything Carl - he thinks I'm namedropping countries now!!)I really did love those smarties at King Supermarket in downtown Kumasi when we went grocery shopping. Anyway, despite the chill that day there was a lot of good cheer and enthusiasm and Carl finally met Andrew (the owner of Diner, Marlow and Sons, and the two Bonita restaurants)and shared that the Bonita in Williamsburg at S. 2nd/Bedford is his favorite restaurant!! The other Bonita is in Fort Greene but we have yet to visit it.
Saxelby Cheese had a stand that was mobbed by a crowd of people at least three-deep. We couldn't get close, but Carl hoisted Salena on his shoulder and yelled a big hello to Anne Saxelby (the proprietor of Saxelby Cheese). I comforted myself with the thought that I visit her stand weekly at Essex Street Market to get cheese (from the Northeast). Right now, I'm buying a lot of Olga (her newest cheese from Maine).It would be great if this became a regular market. Check out www.newamsterdampublic for more information
We also scored some really crunchy apples from the Marlow and Sons stand. I usually walk over to Marlow and Sons a few times a month to get honey (they have many different kinds of honey) and/or Smarties (which remind me of my childhood in Kumasi, Ghana - don't say anything Carl - he thinks I'm namedropping countries now!!)I really did love those smarties at King Supermarket in downtown Kumasi when we went grocery shopping. Anyway, despite the chill that day there was a lot of good cheer and enthusiasm and Carl finally met Andrew (the owner of Diner, Marlow and Sons, and the two Bonita restaurants)and shared that the Bonita in Williamsburg at S. 2nd/Bedford is his favorite restaurant!! The other Bonita is in Fort Greene but we have yet to visit it.
Saxelby Cheese had a stand that was mobbed by a crowd of people at least three-deep. We couldn't get close, but Carl hoisted Salena on his shoulder and yelled a big hello to Anne Saxelby (the proprietor of Saxelby Cheese). I comforted myself with the thought that I visit her stand weekly at Essex Street Market to get cheese (from the Northeast). Right now, I'm buying a lot of Olga (her newest cheese from Maine).It would be great if this became a regular market. Check out www.newamsterdampublic for more information
Friday, December 14, 2007
Thursday Night "Date" Night
Thursday night has been, at my continual urging, set aside for the two adults in the house (Carl and I) to go to dinner and talk without the little one in the middle of us. For me, this is an opportunity to try a new restaurant every week (or a new tea place or dessert place.) Carl, bless his soul, is usually up for this but once in a while he wants something "known." This month, we've been back to Sanctuary Tea
(W. Broadway at Grand Street) for tea and salmon smoked in some kind of tea (which is great!). We've checked out Amai Tea House (17th/3rd), which is a tea house in the Japanese style with cookies flavored with Earl Grey, figs rolled in chocolate and other delicious things. I like it there; I love watching the neighborhood people come in with anticipation and leave happy.
We've also tried Barfry (50 Carmine Street between Bleecker and Bedford). It's Japanese-style bar food (a lot of tempura). We opted for a pumpkin-squash soup, tuna tartare, tomatoes in basil sauce, snow peas with wasabi, and a shared tasting of black sesame, bay leaf and green tea ice cream. In each of the dishes, the flavors built up to a medley of the different spices used (imagine mustard seed at the bottom of the tuna tartare).
Last night was Cafe Gray in the Time Warner building (59th/Columbus). Once a year we treat Carl's financial advisor to a FANCY dinner - and I of course love that!! Cafe Grey is interesting. I didn't expect to like the space but I didn't mind it except for the strange light bulbs in the ceiling (similar to the ones you find in dressing rooms at the theater). The kitchen is a big open room - positioned right next to all us diners. On the other side of the kitchen is the view of Central Park, which you can't see. I wonder what that means? Food is king? Anyway, in the brief moments that I was glancing around, I didn't mind seeing the chefs cooking away. Big Daughter ordered the entree of pork belly and cheeks and it was surprisingly good (almost creamy in taste). (Usually, when I see cheeks, I think of someone's face and imagine eating their cheeks, which of course is too weird and then I don't order anything with cheeks in it).
I had read some reviews about Cafe Gray so I suggested that Carl get the roast duck as it was highly praised by a few different different food authorities. He was in heaven. I didn't like the appetizer of Sashimi with Tuna; it was kind of strange looking (a pink slab of fish with some root vegetables dropped on top but who am I to say?). Carl ate my cod with rice flakes in a curry sauce and was surprised at his ability to eat two entrees, but he's really skinny so it doesn't matter. The desserts were pretty - and presented with a flourish - chocolate souffle with ginger, chocolate rum toast with raisins and bananas, and crystallized key lime pie with schlag and vanilla sugar donuts. I think the vanilla sugar donuts were the best, but I didn't like the chocolate dipping sauce or the vanilla one.
This probably sounds strange, but I found the atmosphere of the restaurant a little weird. The second tier servers (the servers and water bearers) were cool and had a sense of themselves, but the bartenders and the Maitre'd seemed a bit beaten down. Who knows serving people who don't really care about the food might do one in. I saw one woman snapping her finger at the Maitre'd as we were leaving and I was horrified. Earlier she was eating bread in a very strange way - one piece was just jutting out of her mouth like a little second tongue. I guess I'd get beaten down too. The experience made me think that of all the fancy dinners with the Financial Advisor (Daniel, Le Cirque, L'Impero, L'Cirque, Le Bernardin and Cafe Gray), the one which really stood out is Le Bernardin. From start to finish, it was a seamless experience and the staff exuded a palpable sense of excitement and pride, which gave the experience an almost magical feeling.
The only other restaurant that consistently recreates that same sense of a magical moment is Chanterelle (Harrison and Hudson Street - Tribeca. When I go to Chanterelle (not for Thursday night dinner of course because Carl would literally die. The poor man (he is actually not poor) refuses to eat "fancy" other than with his financial advisor once a year. I think the equation is that money=rewards. Or perhaps that's why he's not poor!! Anyway back to Chanterelle; when I'm there I forget everything that I am thinking about and I simply love the food and the person I'm with.(Carl are you reading this? Maybe you should go with me once in a while to Chanterelle!! and not talk sports to the poor man who was up for the next Sunday Salon).
(W. Broadway at Grand Street) for tea and salmon smoked in some kind of tea (which is great!). We've checked out Amai Tea House (17th/3rd), which is a tea house in the Japanese style with cookies flavored with Earl Grey, figs rolled in chocolate and other delicious things. I like it there; I love watching the neighborhood people come in with anticipation and leave happy.
We've also tried Barfry (50 Carmine Street between Bleecker and Bedford). It's Japanese-style bar food (a lot of tempura). We opted for a pumpkin-squash soup, tuna tartare, tomatoes in basil sauce, snow peas with wasabi, and a shared tasting of black sesame, bay leaf and green tea ice cream. In each of the dishes, the flavors built up to a medley of the different spices used (imagine mustard seed at the bottom of the tuna tartare).
Last night was Cafe Gray in the Time Warner building (59th/Columbus). Once a year we treat Carl's financial advisor to a FANCY dinner - and I of course love that!! Cafe Grey is interesting. I didn't expect to like the space but I didn't mind it except for the strange light bulbs in the ceiling (similar to the ones you find in dressing rooms at the theater). The kitchen is a big open room - positioned right next to all us diners. On the other side of the kitchen is the view of Central Park, which you can't see. I wonder what that means? Food is king? Anyway, in the brief moments that I was glancing around, I didn't mind seeing the chefs cooking away. Big Daughter ordered the entree of pork belly and cheeks and it was surprisingly good (almost creamy in taste). (Usually, when I see cheeks, I think of someone's face and imagine eating their cheeks, which of course is too weird and then I don't order anything with cheeks in it).
I had read some reviews about Cafe Gray so I suggested that Carl get the roast duck as it was highly praised by a few different different food authorities. He was in heaven. I didn't like the appetizer of Sashimi with Tuna; it was kind of strange looking (a pink slab of fish with some root vegetables dropped on top but who am I to say?). Carl ate my cod with rice flakes in a curry sauce and was surprised at his ability to eat two entrees, but he's really skinny so it doesn't matter. The desserts were pretty - and presented with a flourish - chocolate souffle with ginger, chocolate rum toast with raisins and bananas, and crystallized key lime pie with schlag and vanilla sugar donuts. I think the vanilla sugar donuts were the best, but I didn't like the chocolate dipping sauce or the vanilla one.
This probably sounds strange, but I found the atmosphere of the restaurant a little weird. The second tier servers (the servers and water bearers) were cool and had a sense of themselves, but the bartenders and the Maitre'd seemed a bit beaten down. Who knows serving people who don't really care about the food might do one in. I saw one woman snapping her finger at the Maitre'd as we were leaving and I was horrified. Earlier she was eating bread in a very strange way - one piece was just jutting out of her mouth like a little second tongue. I guess I'd get beaten down too. The experience made me think that of all the fancy dinners with the Financial Advisor (Daniel, Le Cirque, L'Impero, L'Cirque, Le Bernardin and Cafe Gray), the one which really stood out is Le Bernardin. From start to finish, it was a seamless experience and the staff exuded a palpable sense of excitement and pride, which gave the experience an almost magical feeling.
The only other restaurant that consistently recreates that same sense of a magical moment is Chanterelle (Harrison and Hudson Street - Tribeca. When I go to Chanterelle (not for Thursday night dinner of course because Carl would literally die. The poor man (he is actually not poor) refuses to eat "fancy" other than with his financial advisor once a year. I think the equation is that money=rewards. Or perhaps that's why he's not poor!! Anyway back to Chanterelle; when I'm there I forget everything that I am thinking about and I simply love the food and the person I'm with.(Carl are you reading this? Maybe you should go with me once in a while to Chanterelle!! and not talk sports to the poor man who was up for the next Sunday Salon).
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Dim Sum Morning
A typical day starts with Dim Sum before I drop the little one off at her school in Chinatown. We alternate between three main choices; Chatham Square (on Bowery literally at Mott), Hong Kong Noodle Station (on Bayard right off Bowery), or Mei Lee Wah (Bayard off Elizabeth). Lately, Chatham Square is our hands-down favorite - with it's old-diner-style booths and round tables.
Little one and I generally order the same thing and the Dim Sum cart ladies are so taken with her that they momentarily forsake their carts to watch her get her regular order: spare ribs, a baked pork bun and sticky rice full of small treasures like tiny shrimp, sliced mushrooms, a chunk of chinese sausage and roast pork all wrapped in a large Lotus leaf that tastes like it was steeped in tea!.
At Chatham Square, we have reached the distinction of being regulars (along with our elderly-cantonese-speaking counterparts who sit nursing their tea, and perusing us along with their mandarin newspapers). In the summer, we swoon over the Hong-Kong style iced tea which is milky and cold and forget to finish our food in favor of the tea.
If we decide to eat breakfast at Hong Kong Noodle Station, the environment is more modern and no-frills, almost diner-like. One one side, behind a glass counter, there are a multitude of toppings to select from. First, you start with the noodles (thick, flat, long) and the counter-girl cuts the noodles with a scissors. Then, you choose from chicken feet, fish balls, a myriad of different vegetables (chopped scallions, greens)and this is all mixed together in a broth. Little one usually skips soup for breakfast and simply opts for a grilled-ham sandwich on white toast (no egg). Hong Kong Noodle station is really big on white toast with peanut butter and jelly, or jelly, with butter. They also offer a sticky rice which she sometimes asks for (but doesn't finish). I am in the habit of getting their hot milk tea, which is a strong tea with a liberal dash of evaporated milk. It's heavenly and I pretty much nurse it through the day. My friend Emily (who's from Hong Kong) tells me that this is Hong Kong style tea (usually Assam). It's like having dessert for breakfast.
Little one and I generally order the same thing and the Dim Sum cart ladies are so taken with her that they momentarily forsake their carts to watch her get her regular order: spare ribs, a baked pork bun and sticky rice full of small treasures like tiny shrimp, sliced mushrooms, a chunk of chinese sausage and roast pork all wrapped in a large Lotus leaf that tastes like it was steeped in tea!.
At Chatham Square, we have reached the distinction of being regulars (along with our elderly-cantonese-speaking counterparts who sit nursing their tea, and perusing us along with their mandarin newspapers). In the summer, we swoon over the Hong-Kong style iced tea which is milky and cold and forget to finish our food in favor of the tea.
If we decide to eat breakfast at Hong Kong Noodle Station, the environment is more modern and no-frills, almost diner-like. One one side, behind a glass counter, there are a multitude of toppings to select from. First, you start with the noodles (thick, flat, long) and the counter-girl cuts the noodles with a scissors. Then, you choose from chicken feet, fish balls, a myriad of different vegetables (chopped scallions, greens)and this is all mixed together in a broth. Little one usually skips soup for breakfast and simply opts for a grilled-ham sandwich on white toast (no egg). Hong Kong Noodle station is really big on white toast with peanut butter and jelly, or jelly, with butter. They also offer a sticky rice which she sometimes asks for (but doesn't finish). I am in the habit of getting their hot milk tea, which is a strong tea with a liberal dash of evaporated milk. It's heavenly and I pretty much nurse it through the day. My friend Emily (who's from Hong Kong) tells me that this is Hong Kong style tea (usually Assam). It's like having dessert for breakfast.
Hot Chocolate Galore
Hot chocolate is something that I adore, but only if it’s thick and creamy. Before ordering, I usually check to see if the hot chocolate listed on the menu is “milky” or “thick and creamy.” Almost everyone I ask is very amenable and honest — tells me if it’s milky (which I don't like). These are my favorite places for hot chocolate —in no particular order, except as I remember them:
Counter – 1st Avenue/corner of 7th Street –E. Village – They offer a large cup or a shot of their hot chocolate. I opt for the shot at the bar as a recharge. I used to stop in at 5 p.m. (just when they're opening up for the evening) as was en route to my evening job on Wednesdays and Fridays.
Jacque Torres Chocolate – King Street at Hudson - Featuring several types of hot chocolate: Classic, Wicked and even a iced version of all of the previously mentioned and one with peanut butter). I always get the Wicked, which is spicy and bracing especially when I’m really sick with bronchitis. I prefer the hot chocolate to antibiotics. Jacque Torres is a nice space; there is always a comforting chocolate aroma wafting around. Inevitably, they are making chocolate in the preferred figures of whatever holiday is coming up; right now you can see the machines rotating large chocolate Santas round and around as you walk by on King Street. Every time I visit (no kidding) the master himself seems to be the subject of yet another television interview. I totally understand why. It's a cool space and it's fun to go in and buy chocolate covered cheerios and a Wicked hot chocolate and then keep heading uptown to my next stop.
I heard he opened a really fancy new space on the Upper West Side - sounds almost Viennese in style. At King Street, there are a million and one ways to buy his chocolate. You won't want to miss the displays of chocolate-covered cheerios, huge chocolate bars, plus a long bar where you can customize varied sized-boxes of truffles: earl grey, passion fruit, coconut, lemon... (and they are very yummy).
Otto – 8th Street/right of 5th Avenue - Thick, hazelnut flavored hot chocolate that is literally a dessert. I should mention that when I order any of these hot chocolates, I treat it as a meal in itself)
MarieBelle – Broome Street off W. Broadway in Soho – In the back of the store you'll find a charming little cacao bar; they have different sizes of spicy and regular hot chocolate (as well as an assortment of sweets/teas). I especially like the little shot of spicy hot chocolate and find it just perfect if I'm going in to meet my Friday night clients.
Chocolat Michel Cluizel - Located at the café in the back of the store, they offer (along with a newer menu of chocolate cocktails), a whole pot of hot chocolate and little shots too. Somehow I start to think I’m levitating after sharing the pot with someone because I drink too much of it. I usually stick to the shot of hot chocolate, which comes in a very nice little tea cup. I recently shared a tasting of the fabulous new chocolate dessert menu created by Will Goldfarb with my friend Emily; it was all about pushing the palate/envelope in a very good way. The chocolate soup not only sounded fun, it tasted fun with bubbles and a wash of dark chocolate espresso at the bottom. There was some confusion about the caviar with the white chocolate gelato with olive oil and smoked sea salt so we ended up with a free chocolate bar, which I promptly handed to Emily as an early stocking stuffer.
Podunk – E. 5th between 2nd Avenue and Bowery – Elspeth (the proprietor) and her family make this place the best tea house on the planet. I don’t say that lightly because I make it my mission to check out tea places not just in NYC but upstate too (and I've found some good places - Verdigris in Hudson, New York is really special.) But back to Elspeth. She warns her customers that her hot chocolate is best shared; and it's served in the most beautiful little teapots. After drinking it, I start thinking I've just turned into Alice in Wonderland at the Madhatter's tea party. I shouldn't say it but I've finished my little pot of chocolate ALL BY MYSELF a few times. I'm usually at Elspeth's a few times a week. For me, stepping into Podunk is about finding sanity in scones and tea sandwiches.
La Colombe Torrefaction - Church at Lispenard Street.
This is the only place I drink hot chocolate that is more milky than creamy. The incredibly personable barista-man told me the chocolate pedigree (I think he said Ivory Coast?) when I asked about the hot chocolate on my first visit. I've been here many times since (usually Monday mornings, when I don't take Little one to school as I get to walk by here en route to the J train at Canal). These guys make a seriously flavorful hot chocolate, which to my amateur palate has a lot of depth in the flavor. Mr. barista does not add sugar (unless requested to) and then he does it perfectly. This morning he noticed my Buddakan bag (big daughter is a hostess there). We bonded over our love of Buddakan. Of course, I had to share how our family was treated like royalty when we ate there recently, but that's another story). What is noteworthy is that Mr. Barista told me that restaurateur (Stephen Starr - he owns Buddakan and Morimoto) uses coffee from La Colombe Torrefaction. I am not surprised because Carl, who is an extremely discerning coffee drinker, says that the coffee here is "amazing."
Kiva - (Reade Street/between Hudson and Greenwich Streets)
Thank God for Kiva, a wonderful coffee/tea spot in Tribeca for the "real" people who live downtown. Beebe, the owner, an impossibly beautiful woman - seriously; both in personality and in looks - makes a really nice hot chocolate. She didn't flinch one morning when I asked if she could put less milk in to "make it thicker." Kiva also serves breakfast, lunch and dinner (pizza, sandwiches, soup and wine by the glass).
Right now, they have some wonderful christmas presents like the custom-made gift baskets of which we bought several last year for gifts! Kiva was our salvation one evening after .ittle one had a serious meltdown right at school pick-up. After non-stop crying from school to the M22 bus and on down the sidewalk (so much so that some guy yelled "stop crying" and then smiled), Kiva was our salvation. In her teary state, little one yelled "and you didn't wave at the Kiva lady," and in we went for some sprite, candy canes, chocolate chip cookies - and a little christmas shopping - along with conversation about Kiva's hot chocolate. We exited 45 minutes later feeling good will towards each other and the world. Kiva will do that to you every time - especially if you're lucky enough to visit when Beebe's there!
Counter – 1st Avenue/corner of 7th Street –E. Village – They offer a large cup or a shot of their hot chocolate. I opt for the shot at the bar as a recharge. I used to stop in at 5 p.m. (just when they're opening up for the evening) as was en route to my evening job on Wednesdays and Fridays.
Jacque Torres Chocolate – King Street at Hudson - Featuring several types of hot chocolate: Classic, Wicked and even a iced version of all of the previously mentioned and one with peanut butter). I always get the Wicked, which is spicy and bracing especially when I’m really sick with bronchitis. I prefer the hot chocolate to antibiotics. Jacque Torres is a nice space; there is always a comforting chocolate aroma wafting around. Inevitably, they are making chocolate in the preferred figures of whatever holiday is coming up; right now you can see the machines rotating large chocolate Santas round and around as you walk by on King Street. Every time I visit (no kidding) the master himself seems to be the subject of yet another television interview. I totally understand why. It's a cool space and it's fun to go in and buy chocolate covered cheerios and a Wicked hot chocolate and then keep heading uptown to my next stop.
I heard he opened a really fancy new space on the Upper West Side - sounds almost Viennese in style. At King Street, there are a million and one ways to buy his chocolate. You won't want to miss the displays of chocolate-covered cheerios, huge chocolate bars, plus a long bar where you can customize varied sized-boxes of truffles: earl grey, passion fruit, coconut, lemon... (and they are very yummy).
Otto – 8th Street/right of 5th Avenue - Thick, hazelnut flavored hot chocolate that is literally a dessert. I should mention that when I order any of these hot chocolates, I treat it as a meal in itself)
MarieBelle – Broome Street off W. Broadway in Soho – In the back of the store you'll find a charming little cacao bar; they have different sizes of spicy and regular hot chocolate (as well as an assortment of sweets/teas). I especially like the little shot of spicy hot chocolate and find it just perfect if I'm going in to meet my Friday night clients.
Chocolat Michel Cluizel - Located at the café in the back of the store, they offer (along with a newer menu of chocolate cocktails), a whole pot of hot chocolate and little shots too. Somehow I start to think I’m levitating after sharing the pot with someone because I drink too much of it. I usually stick to the shot of hot chocolate, which comes in a very nice little tea cup. I recently shared a tasting of the fabulous new chocolate dessert menu created by Will Goldfarb with my friend Emily; it was all about pushing the palate/envelope in a very good way. The chocolate soup not only sounded fun, it tasted fun with bubbles and a wash of dark chocolate espresso at the bottom. There was some confusion about the caviar with the white chocolate gelato with olive oil and smoked sea salt so we ended up with a free chocolate bar, which I promptly handed to Emily as an early stocking stuffer.
Podunk – E. 5th between 2nd Avenue and Bowery – Elspeth (the proprietor) and her family make this place the best tea house on the planet. I don’t say that lightly because I make it my mission to check out tea places not just in NYC but upstate too (and I've found some good places - Verdigris in Hudson, New York is really special.) But back to Elspeth. She warns her customers that her hot chocolate is best shared; and it's served in the most beautiful little teapots. After drinking it, I start thinking I've just turned into Alice in Wonderland at the Madhatter's tea party. I shouldn't say it but I've finished my little pot of chocolate ALL BY MYSELF a few times. I'm usually at Elspeth's a few times a week. For me, stepping into Podunk is about finding sanity in scones and tea sandwiches.
La Colombe Torrefaction - Church at Lispenard Street.
This is the only place I drink hot chocolate that is more milky than creamy. The incredibly personable barista-man told me the chocolate pedigree (I think he said Ivory Coast?) when I asked about the hot chocolate on my first visit. I've been here many times since (usually Monday mornings, when I don't take Little one to school as I get to walk by here en route to the J train at Canal). These guys make a seriously flavorful hot chocolate, which to my amateur palate has a lot of depth in the flavor. Mr. barista does not add sugar (unless requested to) and then he does it perfectly. This morning he noticed my Buddakan bag (big daughter is a hostess there). We bonded over our love of Buddakan. Of course, I had to share how our family was treated like royalty when we ate there recently, but that's another story). What is noteworthy is that Mr. Barista told me that restaurateur (Stephen Starr - he owns Buddakan and Morimoto) uses coffee from La Colombe Torrefaction. I am not surprised because Carl, who is an extremely discerning coffee drinker, says that the coffee here is "amazing."
Kiva - (Reade Street/between Hudson and Greenwich Streets)
Thank God for Kiva, a wonderful coffee/tea spot in Tribeca for the "real" people who live downtown. Beebe, the owner, an impossibly beautiful woman - seriously; both in personality and in looks - makes a really nice hot chocolate. She didn't flinch one morning when I asked if she could put less milk in to "make it thicker." Kiva also serves breakfast, lunch and dinner (pizza, sandwiches, soup and wine by the glass).
Right now, they have some wonderful christmas presents like the custom-made gift baskets of which we bought several last year for gifts! Kiva was our salvation one evening after .ittle one had a serious meltdown right at school pick-up. After non-stop crying from school to the M22 bus and on down the sidewalk (so much so that some guy yelled "stop crying" and then smiled), Kiva was our salvation. In her teary state, little one yelled "and you didn't wave at the Kiva lady," and in we went for some sprite, candy canes, chocolate chip cookies - and a little christmas shopping - along with conversation about Kiva's hot chocolate. We exited 45 minutes later feeling good will towards each other and the world. Kiva will do that to you every time - especially if you're lucky enough to visit when Beebe's there!
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