Taksim is Tasty

This evening on may way home from work I wanted something close by and reliable for dinner, so I stopped in at Taksim, a Turkish restaurant on 2nd Avenue. The location couldn't be more convenient, and every time I have been there so far it has been reliably good.

At this point I can't imagine going there and not getting the Greek Salad to start. This is a hearty salad, which in addition to the basic tomato, lettuce, cucumber, onion and feta also includes nice touches like a bit of elephant bean salad and a stuffed vine leaf.

Tonight I tried the Chicken Adana kebab, which is made with ground chicken wrapped around a skewer and grilled. The kebab was quite good with some spicy chili sauce. Accompanied by an Efes, a Turkish beer, it was all quite good. One of the nice touches here is the complimentary watermelon slice they provide for dessert. Just enough to counterbalance the heaviness of the skewered meat.

Daily Commute

This morning the weather wasn't too bad (after a couple of days of rain and unseasonable chill), so I decided to take the time on my way to the office in the morning to capture some images that illustrate what my morning commute is like. Surely my commute is representative of that of many thousands living in the city, but it is much different than what I been used to for the rest of my working life. For me going into work has always involved hopping into a car and negotiating traffic, minimizing exposure to the weather and interaction with other people. Now, though, having left my car behind in Seattle, I am committed to a much different approach relying on a combination of ambulatory and public transportation. This morning I headed out at around 7:15AM. As always the first leg of the trip involves traveling a couple of blocks to the nearest subway entrance at 53rd and 3rd Avenue. The route is still new enough for me that I usually spot something novel each time in the way of shops, restaurants or other amusements that I make mental note of to visit at some future point. In particular I like 53rd street because of one particular section where you can see 6 or 7 little restaurants embedded above and below street level. So many choices. After just a few short blocks, the subway entrance is in sight and I head underground. On hot days the underground stations can be quite stifling, but thankfully today it wasn't bad at all. My route is to take the 6 train downtown just a few stops, and I am fortunate that it seems to be consistently rated as one of the best subway lines, according to a number of publications and reviews. Certainly it seems pleasant enough to me, but then again I only ride typically for three stops. Not enough really to be bothered by anything. The worst part about the trip is waiting for the subway to arrive, and with the exception of hot days the issue is just the inaction, the feeling that you are not getting anywhere during this time. It's the closest to being stuck in traffic that I experience now, but thankfully the trains run frequently enough and so far it's never been more than five minutes or so that I wait in the morning. That was the case this morning, and within a few minutes I boarded the train. The train cars are air conditioned aggressively, so on hot days this is the point at which you experience relief from the muggy station air -- sometimes this can be quite a shock to the system due to the extreme temperature difference and rapid cooling. The train trip is short, and for me it still feels like an amusement ride. Not thrilling like a roller coaster, but easygoing and meandering like a monorail. Surely this feeling of recreation will wear off after a while, and I have learned from my colleagues at work that it doesn't even last a single day under strain of an forty-five minute or longer trip from outside the city, but for me it is quick and when I get off I almost feel like I would like to ride a bit more. When I exit the subway station, I emerge on 28th street and Park Avenue, and it is just a couple blocks over to my office on 5th Avenue. I often pick up some fruit and perhaps espresso on the way in, and luckily I pass eight or nine bistros and/or cafes in that short walk, not including the chains like Starbucks and Dunkin' Donuts. After a quick stop into the last one I go by, Cafe 28, I arrive at my block on 5th Avenue. As the pictures show, my block is in the shadow of the Empire State building — a nice landmark to greet me on my way in.

Dinner Before Subway

Heading home from work, I always pass a few feet from Les Halles on my way into the subway at 28th and Park Avenue. Since I am currently on my own in the city until my family returns, it is hard to resist the temptation to duck in there every night and enjoy a good Steak Frites. Tonight I do not resist the temptation, despite the fact that yielding once may be a slippery slope to overindulgence. I could easily talk myself into eating there every night, although this will luckily be impractical once the family is in town.

For those who are not familiar, Les Halles is associated with reluctant celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain. I say reluctant because I distinctly recall comments from his book Kitchen Confidential (the one that made him famous) where he expressed general disdain for celebrity chefs, including at least on reference comparing fellow chef Emeril Lagasse as an Ewok. Some might say that this is somewhat inconsistent with Bourdain's career path since, as a quick review of his web site's listings of TV shows, public appearances and books would show. I for one don't hold this against him, though, since although the original book was by far his best work, I think it's completely understandable that his perspective changed completely when he was afforded the opportunity to join the Ewok team. It's easy to disparage the riders of the gravy train as it's passing you by, but much harder when it stops and offers to pick you up.

In any case, I have of course all ready dined at Les Halles a couple of times in the brief time we have been in Manhattan, so I opt for something I haven't tried before -- the Merguez, Frites, and Salade. Small Moroccan sausages with traditional French accompanients. As usual the frites and salad are excellent after a long day, and I really like the little sausages. They come with a kind of thick chili sauce on the side that adds a nice bit of heat. I can see that I might need to limit this kind of indulgence to once a week at most.

Tea and Sushi

This evening I decided to continue investigation of the restaurants in our neighborhood, in order to ensure that we are fully informed of all the dining possibilities whenever we might be called upon to make a quick decision in the near future. One thing I haven't yet tried since arriving in the area is anything remotely Japanese, so Kama Sushi seemed to be a good choice. From the outside it has a very low profile, and I couldn't even find an associated web site or even any mention anywhere in other dining and review sites. I am new enough here that I'm not sure whether this means it is a well-kept secret closely guarded by the locals, or just that it doesn't rate any mention due to it's low standards of quality.

In any case, I decided to give it a try since it would be a convenient and quick source of food, and a quick browse of the flyer on the outside revealed that they had an Unagi platter which combines eel sushi with eel-and-avocado (or cucumber) roll. Sounds like it was made for me, so I ventured in.

After the standard hot moist towel treatment, one of the wait staff came over to take a drink order, and at that point one of the typical awkward predicaments I frequently seem to find myself in when interacting with service professionals ensued. Luckily my wife was not present, since she always seems pained by my inability to handle these situations better, but I really do try and I'm not sure where it all goes wrong.

Back to the situation: the young woman asked what I would like to drink, and I replied with a question about whether they had iced tea, a standard beverage choice for me. I hadn't had a chance to look at the menu yet to see whether they even offered iced tea as a choice, but it seemed like a safe request.

She nodded and said yes, and headed off to get the drink while I looked over the menu (despite my having already set my sights on the unagi). When she returned, she was carrying a goblet with ice and can of Lipton Sweetened Lemon Flavored Tea.

Before I continue, a brief word of explanation may be in order. I am a dedicated, long-time iced tea drinker; however, I firmly believe that tea coming from bottles, cans, or soda fountains has little in common with the freshly-brewed (or even brewed-within-the-last-week) variety. I really don't think I'm being a tea snob -- I think it's just objective fact that even with all the wonders of technology humankind has produced so far, preserving boiled leaves in a state that is drinkable beyond a couple of hours has eluded us. So much so that as a strict rule I never drink any tea that is not freshly brewed. I often ask when I am suspicious to make sure I don't find myself in this situation.

As if that weren't enough, I also have a strict rule against drinking anything with corn syrup in it. I don't have a lot of strict dietary rules, but without knowing it this waitress inadvertently trampled on two of them.

She of course had no idea about this background as she put the tea down in front of me, and unfortunately my combination of dismay and uncertainty about the best way to politely refuse the tea mometarily left me frozen long enough for her to pop the top on the can. Even worse, the first thing I could come up with to try to stop her was to say "Uhh, is that, umm, sweetened?" when I could obviously see and read the conspicuous label on the can. We then had an awkward exchange that was complicated by the fact that I believe English was not her first language where I at first said I didn't want the tea, but then tried to tell her that I would be happy to pay for it since she had opened it, but I still wanted something else to drink. I wasn't sure what the etiquette is for canceling once the seal has been broken on a canned beverage, but I thought it was worth to stay on the safe side for a restaurant that is so close and where I might want to return later.

I did manage to get across that I would have hot tea instead, but when she returned with that she also brought me a can (she had left the goblet with ice) of Seagram's Seltzer. I tried to think if there was something about the way I had asked for the hot tea or offered payment for the canned that had conveyed that I would like some seltzer in addition. Perhaps they give everyone a can of seltzer? I looked around to see what was on other tables, but I couldn't get a clear view since it wasn't crowded and the only other patrons were seated far away. I could be mistaken, but I don't think anyone else was having seltzer.

Soon after they brought out the miso soup and a small green salad (pale iceberg lettuce with the usual ginger dressing). The miso wasn't bad, and the salad tolerable, but as when she brought out the platter the women motioned and asked if I wanted her to open the seltzer. I said no thanks, the hot tea would be sufficient, and I thought I picked up on some confusion on her part, as if she couldn't understand why I was refusing yet another can I had asked for.

Despite the confusion with the beverage, the unagi was very satisfying. Both the roll and the sushi were well-prepared, with the roll being just the right density and temperature. Definitely worth coming back for. At the end of the meal though, the waitress made one final inquiry to ask if I was sure I didn't want the can of seltzer. I declined for the last time and she reluctantly took it away. She returned with complimentary pineapple cubes and a toothpick, which although canned like the tea were much appreciated, but I was left with an uneasy feeling not knowing whether the difficulty was all in my mind, or whether she really had been troubled and offended by my handling of the drink situation. From the check it appears that I only paid for a single drink, but I couldn't tell what it was.

I guess I will try to return with my family once they get back in town; they probably won't recognize me as part of a group and the platter was worth returning for.

Sunday is Mole Night

Dinner this evening presented another chance to go out and check out the restaurants in the neighborhood. It appears that on Sunday evenings, the East 50s in Manhattan are pretty deserted, and restaurants are lucky to get any traffic at all. Plenty of opportunities for those of us who live in the area to have our pick of the tables, often with discount prices.

After mulling over the options, I decided on Zarela, which specializes in various Mexican regional cuisines including that of the title role chef's native Oaxaca. I had seen this place while week by previously and perused their web site enough to know that on weekdays they offer dinner and lunch prix fixe menus for $42 and $29.95. On Sunday evenings, though, they have a roughly similar (although possibly less elaborate) fixed offering for $19.95, which includes starter, entree, and choice of wine or dessert. Seems like a bargain. I could easily spend the same in Seattle on a burger and accompaniments at Red Robin.

So, after a brief look at the menu, I opted for the prix fixe, choosing the Ensalada Tropical and a braised chicken in mole that wasn't on the regular menu. The duck sounded like it would be really good (and I do have a fondness for duck), but my instincts told me that on a Sunday night with possibly the B-team in the kitchen, the daily special was the safer way to go.

While this is certainly not the typical red-sauce-and-cheese-blanket type of Mexican place, they still serve chips and salsa to immediately when you sit down, which were very good. The house special wine they brought me was a blanc de blanc, which was pretty good (I am no connoisseur, let me tell you). The tropical salad was very nice, with small slices of orange, julienned jicama and a light dressing; nothing too heavy, and crumbled queso anejo or similar sprinkled on top. This was counterbalanced by the chicken, which was definitely a comfort-food item. It was a half chicken in pieces (leg, thigh, breast cut in two), and was covered in a thick mole. It was accompanied by a side plate with a medley of zucchini, tomato, and garlic, and also a creamy white rice with chilis and corn kernels (and other things too, probably). In all quite a filling meal. It was the kind of thing I expected only to be able to eat half of, but before I knew it I had finished the whole thing.

Definitely a place to come back to. Next time I will try the duck. Also the chile rellenos I saw on the next table over.

Summerfest

This afternoon I headed out to visit a couple of stores on 5th Avenue, and
as I crossed over to Lexington Avenue I was greeted by a busy street fair scene. The avenue was closed off for quite a few blocks, and there were all sorts of vendors set up with clothing, leather goods, food, the works. Of course this is Manhattan, so I figure they do this kind of thing a lot. What was curious to me was that as I looked around I couldn't see any visible sign indicating what exactly the fair was all about. Doesn't there have to be a reason to have a fair?

I thought the food might be a clue, particularly if the festival were related to celebration of a particular culture or nationality. As you can see if you look closely at the pictures, though, there doesn't appear to be any common theme in the edible fare. So, no ethno-culinary clues to help out. I walked all the way up and down the blocked-off area, and sure enough I found no identifying sign of any kind that would tell me under what common cause people had come out to eat gyros, meatball hoagies, fried chicken, tacos, and crepes.

Could it be in honor of National Aviation Day? Pakistani Independence Day? Left Handers Day? Did these people even know what they were celebrating? How can one in good conscience take part in an event of this kind without knowing what cause they are promoting. Was I the only one that was in the dark on this? I just moved into the area, so perhaps I didn't get the flyer under my door.

I was still thinking about it when I returned to the condo later in the afternoon, so with some quick research I discovered that in all likelihood I had stumbled into the middle of the Lexington Avenue Summerfest. There doesn't seem to be much other information about the specifics of why this particular festival is held, but apparently it doesn't go any deeper than eating street food and buying trinkets.

Smoked Sturgeon, anyone?

After a hard day of carrying suitcases back and forth between temporary apartment and new condo (about 7 blocks each way), I woke up and decided it was a good day to enjoy a hearty breakfast. After considering options both nearby and far away, I decided to give Barney Greengrass a try. It's all the way on the other side of the island, but I didn't have a lot of structured activities planned for today and this would give me a chance to hone my subway navigation skills.

Barney Greengrass is a well-known NYC establishment (open since 1908), and has been profiled in many places including a number of food and travel shows I have seen. Most notably, if I recall correctly Anthony Bourdain did a segment there for one of his shows. The restaurant subtitle is "The Sturgeon King," and indeed their specialty is smoked fish of various kinds. I can't say that my upbringing and life experience to this point has included much variety in the way of smoked seafood, so this is definitely a chance to broaden my horizons.

I ate in the small sit-down restaurant area, and given that I arrived just after opening there weren't many other patrons (see picture at right with coffee cup).

I decided quickly that there wasn't really any reason not to just go with a key house specialty, sturgeon scrambled with eggs and onions, which comes with a choice of bagel or bialy. I opted for a toasted poppy-seed bagel with mine. I overheard someon else getting a pumpernickel bagel later and realized I should have thought of that, but I'll just have to remember for next time.

The food came remarkably fast; they are obviously used to moving people in and out quickly. I expect that if I had gotten there a bit later it would have been much more crowded, as people started coming in rapidly after nine. In fact before I left I witnessed an argument a pair of elderly women had with the waiter about whether they could sit at a table for four since they were expecting to be joined by a third friend. The waiter was very polite, but insistent that their policy was not to seat parties at larger tables until all are present. Sounds reasonable, and in my experience this is not unusual at this kind of place, and the women grudgingly agreed to sit at a table for two instead.

In any case, the blurry image at left shows the food I got, clockwise from top left:
cup of coffee, slab of cream cheese and pat of butter, toasted bagel, and finally the scramble. Perhaps it doesn't look like much, but it was excellent. Definitely the best scrambled eggs I have had. I'm sure it's not good for you, and I could practically feel the cholesterol pumping through my veins as I ate it, but it was definitely great comfort food. Just not something to eat every day. I will definitely plan to return with the whole family. I saw a number of other families eating there and they seemed to handle the kids quite well.