Dining in Midtown

In the Tavern at Gramercy Tavern

2009-02-16T20:21:00.000-05:00

This evening we went for a belated Valentine's Day dinner at Gramercy Tavern. In this case I was interested to see if we could walk right in and get a table at around 7pm on a President's Day evening and get a table in the tavern without having to wait.

In this case we were in luck, and were able to get right in. The highlight of our meal was a cauliflower appetizer, which was a semi-circular cross section of the head of cauliflower; a unique presentation.

Valentine's Day at Sidecar

2009-02-14T21:06:00.001-05:00

Tonight we enjoyed a low-key dinner at Sidecar, the upper floor to P.J. Clarke's on 3rd Avenue. Sidecar is a "reservations only" establishment," an approach which is apparently intended to maintain an exclusive ambiance. Given the much more prominent entrances to the first-floor P.J. Clarke's dining room and the bar itself, the entrance to Sidecar is barely labelled and could easily be overlooked (especially since it requires ringing the door buzzer to be allowed in).

Since we live close by, we go to Sidecar fairly often and have always remarked at the quality of the food, in contrast to the fact that they usually don't seem to have much of a crowd.

Sunday dinner at Craftbar

2009-02-08T20:21:00.002-05:00

This evening we enjoyed what has become somewhat of a habit, Sunday evening dinner at Craftbar. The biggest draw for me is the quality of the small bites available, including particularly the olive mix with marcona almonds. At $6, I would assert that you aren't going to get them any cheaper direct from the grocery store (well, at least not at Whole Foods), and not with a side of almonds. And certainly not prepared and delivered to you in an aesthetically pleasing arrangement of tasteful dishes by competent if not overly attentive wait staff.

In addition to the olives, veal meatballs with ricotta are a recurring favorite, served with a side of fettucini pasta.

Breakfast at Katz's

2009-02-07T14:37:00.001-05:00

This morning at breakfast was my first experience at Katz's Deli. We arrived there shortly after 10am, and the lasting impression I have from the experience is that a ticket-based counter ordering system designed for high volume and throughput becomes baffling to the customers when business is slow.

When we entered a uniformed security guard handed each of us a yellow ticket and told us to order at the counter, eat and then present the tickets upon leaving to pay. In retrospect is sounds simple enough, but at the time it was a bit disorienting.

Once past the security station there are a number of ordering stations (cutters) at a long counter running the length of the establishment. Being a newcomer I wasn't familiar with which section of the counter I should head toward in order to order lax and a bagel, but after trial and error (unfortunately trying all of them) I finally got to the one authorized to let me have a bagel. Unfortunately this was not the same one that could give me coffee so I had to double back, but after only ten minutes or so I was able to collect my plates and head to a table and sit down.

After the ordering ordeal things went more smoothly. The bagel and lox were served with small containers of cole slaw and cream cheese as well as onions and tomatoes, all placed on top of a bed of iceberg lettuce leaves. Not being well versed in the tradition of new york bagels and lox I don't think I am qualified to comment on the finer points of the arrangement, but certainly I found the main components to be satisfactory, although nothing that would stand out from other places with a less complicated ordering system.

Sarabeth's UES

2009-01-10T20:29:00.002-05:00

This morning we headed uptown to one of our staple weekend breakfast/brunch locations, Sarabeth's on Madison near 92nd. Having visited several other locations in the Sarabeth's empire, most notably the Central Park South and Chelsea Market bakery, we have find the Upper East Side location to be the most consistently pleasant experience in terms of food and service.

One of the things I like about Sarabeth's is that they open early enough for a respectable breakfast time (8am), while not restricting you to a limited menu that transitions into a more substantial brunch menu later in the morning. For a counterexample see Balthazar, where you can show up at 8am but you will only be able to order very few items from the contintental breakfast menu. At 10am they start serving the "full" menu which includes a full range of brunch items. Not at Sarabeth's, though. Here there is no menu penalty for having breakfast or brunch as an early riser, and the menu is consistent throughout the morning.

Today was pretty cold, so front entry area by the bakery counter was particularly crowded with people waiting to be seated. Space is at a premium here, with only a narrow strip in front of the bakery counter and a couple of chairs next to the hostess stand. Even in the dining room every inch of space is carefully allocated to maximum the seating capacity; on one visit my wife was scolded for rotating a chair around the four-top table that only had three chairs. Apparently the fourth was carefully omitted for ease of traffic flow and they noticed within thirty seconds and corrected the problem when we tried to disrupt it.

We know not to tamper with the seating arrangements any more, though, and subsequent visits have always been pleasant. I am a fan of the sundials of grapefruit with yogurt and granola and this is almost always my choice, but today I selected the green and white, which is scrambled eggs with cream cheese and scallions.

Sundaes and Cones

2008-10-11T23:09:00.001-04:00

Close to The Smith is an ice cream shop called Sundaes and Cones. Before dinner I had seen that they were now serving pumpkin ice cream, and since I am a lover of pumpkin in all forms, I was compelled to give it a try.

The Smith

2008-10-11T23:05:00.005-04:00

Tonight I happened to be in the East Village when the mood for dinner struck, and so I dropped by The Smith on 3rd Avenue. My previous visit there with wife and child had not gone well, but based on repeated recommendation from friends I decided it would be worth going by myself to see if it was better the second time.

On this visit I settled on the pumpkin salad to start, and then the hanger steak. I decided to forgo the included sides of fries or greens with the steak and instead went with the brussel sprouts listed in the sides section of the menu for just a couple dollars extra.

I wasn't sure what to expect from the pumpkin salad; the menu lists it with blue cheese and cranberries so initially I envisioned a sort of fall harvest twist on traditional potato salad with cubes of pumpkin tossed in a cranberry-laced dressing. I inquired to the waitress about the composition, and she indicated that no, it was an arugula salad with pumpkin seeds and topped with slices of pumpkin. This was confirmed when the salad arrived; the pumpkin effect was subtle and the very thin slices of pumpkin were just the right texture to compliment the crunchy seeds and crumbled cheese. One of the better salads I have enjoyed recently.

When the entree arrived, I was impressed by the large chunk of hanger steak, but was dwarfed by the enormous pile of brussel sprouts next to it on the plate. Definitely a generous portion; no question I got my money's worth.

The hanger steak was very good; exactly medium rare just as I had ordered with an impressive crust on the outside. The surprise star was the pile of brussel sprouts, though. As I found myself drawn to eat more and more of the sprouts (even more so than the steak), I thought to myself, how can it be that I am more compelled to eat these brussel sprouts than the steak? Brussel sprouts are not that good in general. Certainly I like them well enough, although perhaps somewhat of an acquired taste. Yet here I was all but willing to cast aside this perfectly prepared steak in order to eat more of them.

I started to examine the brussel sprouts more closely to see if there was something unusual about them, and then it struck me; they looked as though they had been deep fried. It seemed implausible at first; surely they weren't making "freedom" sprouts? Wouldn't they have advertised them as such if that were the case? The more I looked, though, the more convinced I became. They were either deep fried or else they were sauteed in so much oil that it had the same effect. The outermost leaves were browned and crispy, while the inside was cooked through but not overcooked and mushy. I'm skeptical that effect could be achieved through roasting; easier to believe that the secret is a vat of hot oil.

Breakfast at Tisserie

2008-10-11T11:30:00.000-04:00

This morning I was in the mood for something slightly different from the muffins and fruit salad available in my neighborhood, so I wandered down to the Union Square area to have a 7-grain muffin and fruit salad at Tisserie. The muffin was by far the best, just on the verge of being too crumbly. The fruit salad was prepared too long before and sold in plastic cups, and by the time it got to me the watermelon in it had turned to soft fibrous clumps.

By far the most striking thing about the experience was the Americano espresso beverage I ordered. I am well acquainted with the fact that often this preparation can be very hot, since in many cases espresso is added to water that is at or near the boiling point (as opposed to brewed coffee where the brewing process draw out a considerable amount of heat).

Indeed the Americano I got at Tisserie takes over my top ranking for hottest beverage of all time. I detected it was hot immediately and gave it a good twenty minutes to rest, after which I still received minor burns attempting to take a cautious sip.

Back to Bar Americain

2008-10-05T19:05:00.003-04:00

Tonight we had dinner at Bar Americain, where we have dined a number of times before and come to view as a reliable choice for a fine meal.

We have been there on several previous occasions and always enjoyed it; however, on this particular evening my wife was quite disappointed in her food. The fig and prosciutto appetizer was good, but she found the smoked chicken entree far too dry and without flavor. She was also of the opinion that the bread served beforehand, normally an eagerly anticipated treat including mini-baguettes, micro-buttermilk white loaves, and herbed corn sticks, was not nearly as fresh as we had enjoyed previously, even verging on stale.

Adding to the negative bent of the evening, we had ordered a plain pizza with cheese for our son, but on it's arrival he pronounced it inedible after a single bite. I wasn't sure what was wrong with it, other than the fact that when they say "plain cheese," that's exactly what they mean; just a thick layer of cheddar cheese melted over a thin crust.

On the other hand, I enjoyed my the hanger steak entree quite a bit, including the signature steak sauce that was heavily laced with mustard and horseradish.

I would be willing to bet that the issue on this particular evening had more to do with it being a Sunday night and the kitchen staff on duty being the B- or even C-team left to finish out the weekend while the first string rests up for the following week. I have experienced this common phenomenon often before, but it was unfortunate to see it repeated in a restaurant of this high profile and caliber.

SoHo Park Pickles

2008-10-04T13:30:00.004-04:00

Around lunchtime we had an interest in a light lunch, and ironically we found ourselves at SoHo Park, purveyor of many varieties of deep-fried potatoes and other vegetables, as well as a wide range of mayonnaise-based sauces.

While our son was only game for the fries, the adults opted to try something a little bit different and so we chose the fried pickles. Having enjoyed similarly named foods in the past, we were fully expecting deep-fried pickle chips (i.e. thin found cross sections of pickle possibly with ridges, as you would find in a jar of Vlasic hamburger dill chips).

Instead, what we received were pickle spears, and after trying these I have to say that it is an objective statement of fact that fried pickles are better made with chips than spears. The reasons are as follows:

Chips provide a significantly higher surface-to-volume ratio than the equivalent mass of spears. For deep fried foods surface area equals fried batter, and so it goes without saying that increasing the crunchy outside to pickled cucumber inside ratio means better eating.
The larger volume of pickle packs more liquid content, which likely means that it is much more difficult to drain, pat, or squeeze out enough moisture so that the outside will be dry enough to allow the batter to cling properly. Although the spears were clearly well cooked and the fried outside initially crispy, the batter easily flaked off because no matter how much moisture is driven out of the pickle surface, the thick spears still retain plenty inside which quickly rises back to the surface one the pickles start to cool, making the batter slough off in an unappealing manner.
When served in the basket, the spears make for a much heavier, denser serving mass, easily packing efficiently into the available space. I think we probably had a whole jar of pickles in that one serving basket, which probably weighed a couple of pounds, and they were closely packed together which increased the tendency to get soggy and lose their coating. With fried foods it's much better if the individual pieces are small and oddly-shaped so that as they tumble into the serving container there is plenty of air space and overall the portion seems lighter and more airy.

By far the best part of the experience were the various sauces; both the fries and pickles came with two choices and so we were able to try a total of four. Of course, it's hard to go wrong with anything that's whipped into mayonnaise, but still we found the variety interesting, with the basil mayo being the best. We did try one non-mayonnaise choice, the spicy ketchup, which was also excellent.

Off the Menu at Balthazar

2008-10-04T11:26:00.003-04:00

This morning we decided to drop in on Balthazar for breakfast, our first time eating there before 10am when they start serving brunch. Earlier than that on weekends they only serve a continental breakfast which we though would be okay, but on arriving we discovered that a couple of crucial items we really wanted were not on the menu.

Specifically, we were looking for a couple of breakfast staple items, bacon and fruit salad. After a quick discussion about the continental menu and the conspicuous lack of these items, we decided we would take our chances and ask the waiter whether the kitchen could possibly prepare them for use even though they were not officially part of the continental board of fare. We had in mind, of course, the fact that it was 9:30 and at 10:00 they would begin serving a full brunch menu including both of these items, so it didn't like that great a stretch, but one never knows what sort of reaction the question will produce.

My wife went first, her assigned request being for the bacon. The waiter handled that one fairly easily, with a perfunctory answer that brunch items were not available without exception. There was no hint of relent or apology in the tone (not that this was expected).

Then it was my turn, with the request for the fruit salad. This time the waiter seemed quite taken aback. His first response was an awkward pause, followed by an admonition that he would have to check with the kitchen (emphasized with a broad gesture in that general direction). As I was following up my request with an attempt at assurance that we know it wasn't time for brunch yet so no problem if they couldn't manage it, he again held up his hands and indicated that he was going to have to check them "them" (meaning the kitchen, I think).

Apparently he meant that he would have to check before he could continue with taking our order, because at that point he backed away slightly before turning and heading off to the kitchen. I was left feeling like we had done something inappropriate at that point. I wouldn't have been surprised at that point if we had simply been ushered out by the management.

Instead, a couple of minutes later new a women appeared at our table. Apparently she was also on the staff in some sort of escalation capacity, and she asked us if indeed we were the ones who wanted the fruit salad. I wasn't sure what to say at first, since I thought it possible that she would be the one responsible for implementing management policy of showing us the door for our excessive pattern of unreasonable requests. Instead, though, I admitted that we had indeed inquired about ordering off the menu. She then told us that they had exactly one fruit salad in the kitchen (and no more), and then asked if we would like to have it.

This still seemed like a trick of some sort, with the progress of questions and the strange behavior of the waiter. On the other hand, this new person was fairly upbeat and seemed on the surface to be enthusiastic about the prospect of us taking the fruit salad off their hands. Also, I figured there were still plenty of places around the area to eat breakfast if this suddenly all went wrong and so decided to accept the offer of the fruit salad.

After nodding in confirmation, the woman disappeared and a few moments later our waiter returned. We weren't sure about the status of the order, since the waiter had left somewhat abruptly. There followed a somewhat awkward exchange where he asked if someone had come to see us, to which we answered yes, that we had been generously offered a fruit salad. He then asked if we wanted it, which by that point really seemed strange given that we were going through so many layers of questioning to get it.

By this time it was nearly quarter before ten, and so it wasn't long before we started seeing lots of fruits salads being whisked around the dining room, heightening our feeling that this was indeed a strange way to handle our special request.

Once our food arrived (including one bowl of fruit salad), we began to speculate on the amount we would be charged for this highly irregular option. I was sure that the extra grief the kitchen had gone through to fulfill the off-schedule request would be deemed worthy of a price somewhere in excess of $10, but it turned out that we were charged only $5, which was the same as the price of the granola and yogurt bowl with fruit, which incidentally was available on the continental breakfast menu.

Journey to Mars 2112

2008-10-03T23:05:00.004-04:00

This evening we traveled to Times Square to visit the space-themed restaurant Mars 2112. Certainly one doesn't go to a place like this for the food; in fact anyone not accompanying male children under the age of 12 should automatically be barred at the door as a preemptive measure to prevent any misunderstandings related to the labeling and signage that indicates this is in any way related to the traditional meaning of "restaurant & bar."

Instead, this is of course an entertainment complex that happens to subsidize the cost of the various novelty decor, television displays, and pseudo entertainers in martian costumes through sales of food and beverage items. On this particular night it was my goal to entertain our six-year-old son, and having done some research on the place beforehand I was fully aware of the prospects going in. Thus expectations on the food front were low.

My rule in situations like these is to stick with the most basic items that are hard to mess up, and so we ordered the chicken fingers and a cheeseburger with swiss cheese and mushrooms for he and I respectively.

I always find the handling of a burger order to be a revealing indicator of the quality of a restaurant operation, specifically with regard to how thoroughly the meat is cooked. One option for the restaurant is not to ask and simply serve the burger well-done, which is the safest and hardest to botch from a safe food handling or competent preparation standpoint.

A restaurant that fancies itself a notch above fast food or entry-level family restaurant will ask the diner how they prefer the burger cooked. This gives the diner the impression that the kitchen is more sophisticated and accommodating, and if done correctly can result in a higher degree of customer satisfaction. On the other hand, going this route can is not without risk for the restaurant since they will have to ensure that a) the quality of the ingredients along with their handling and preparation are sufficient to ensure that the desired temperature can be achieved without making the diner violently ill, given that medium-rare and below precludes cooking the meat to the FDA-recommended 160F and b) the line cooks have the skill actually to come close to the requested temperature consistently. For me the worst is when I am asked how I want it (as long as I don't see any obvious warning signs I wil ask for medium-rare) and then have it delivered well done. Better not to ask than to set expectations and not deliver.

In this case I asked for medium-rare and the delivered product was a solid medium, which was a pleasant surprise given my expectations. The rest of the food on both our places (fries, chicken tenders) was competently deep-fried, and so we finished our meal without a major disappointment.

The most negative thing I found about the place was that the A-1 steak sauce on the table was clearly stretched very thin through and showed substantial dilution. I expect that kind of thing from a public school cafeteria, but it should be absolutely forbidden in commercial restaurant operation.

On the whole, I would probably avoid eating there again, but doing so wouldn't be the worst thing in the world (or on mars).

Otto

2008-09-28T20:22:00.003-04:00

Tonight we were in the mood for something reliably good for dinner, so we headed down by Washington Square Park to eat at Otto. At this point I can say from experience that the experience there on a Sunday evening is much different from a Friday or Saturday night. The beginning and middle of the weekend at Otto seem dominated by a younger crowd eager to see others and be seen, but certainly not to converse with each other since the ultra-loud audio system would seem to ensure that the only way to communicate with hand signals. Not that people don't try to yell over the music, though, which adds another layer of noise to foundation of eclectic popular, alternative, and electronic music selections.

On Sunday evening, though, the music is toned down and coincidentally or not a completely different clientele shows up. It wouldn't be hard to convince me that someone is coordinating a flash mob of strollers to storm in every Sunday at 6 PM, despite the fact that they can only get in by accomplish a miracle of volumetric geometry by threading them through the revolving door that serves as the single customer entrance. Lucky for us our son is well past the stroller stage and can slip through the door under his own power.

For tonight's dinner we repeated a standard formula involving a selection of antipasti including meat, cheese, and vegetables. This time we go for the daily special bresaola, a trio of cheeses including pecorino peppercorn goat and gorgonzola, brussel sprouts, and alfonso olives.

The wide variety of antipasti combined with the fact that every time we have visited they are all executed very well is probably the number one reason we enjoy this place so much. Every one we have tried has proven excellent, without any hint that the range of choices is being constrained by a scarce allocation of attention to detail and quality. The best choice tonight was the brussels sprouts, which had a really good roasted flavor without any hint of the unpleasant taste that can arrive from ovvercooking.

The only negative comment I can make about the experience of eating here is that the food runners typically deliver the food in a gruff, almost grudging manner. Certainly it's understandable that they are in a hurry, and if it were the army of kids running free from the strollers I could sympathize as well, but since this seems to be the case all through the weekend I don't think it's just the strollers.

In any case, tonight's entrees included pizza with roasted cauliflower and spaghetti carbonara, and our son enjoyed the kid's plain cheese pizza. Currently Otto holds second place (behind Crispo) in my own personal ranking of Manhattan carbonara dishes, which I have a specific sentimental fondness for.

Ruby Foo's

2008-09-27T23:12:00.005-04:00

Tonight's evening meal was at the Upown location of Ruby Foo's on the west side of town. We went there based on a brief investigation that suggested it was a good place for family entertainment, based on the strength and novelty of the kids menu as well as the wholesomely boisterous atmosphere.

The kids menu in question indeed contained some interesting items such as the pb&j roll, but unfortunately it seems that most of the creativity in producing the menu went into the naming of the items rather than ingredients or preparation. Our son opted for the intriguingly named Samurai sword chicken tenders, which produced some above-approve interest and anticipiation. When they arrived, however, it was apparent the the "Samurai" influence must have been intended in an abstract or symbolic sense, and practically speaking they were no different from the "chicken finger" chicken tenders available at nearly every other restaurant on earth.

Luckily a couple of the starters we ordered had some kid appeal, including the bao buns stuffed with barbecued pork and the spring rolls. The barbecued eel and avocado roll was rejected out of hand without even a tasting, though, based solely on excessive eel content. For adult tastes, all three were just fine, although not anything that couldn't be executed just as well by the line cooks at a reasonable competent TGI Fridays.

For our entrees we selected a couple of Ruby's special bowls, including the chicken yaki soba and the Thai garlic chicken. Initially my wife ordered the yaki soba, but after a note of caution from the waiter about the fact this preparation was pretty spicy (in fact the spiciest on the menu, he indicated) she chose the Thai chicken as an alternative, based on his assurance that it would only be mildly spiced.

When the dishes arrived, after a couple of bites both of us agreed that if the Thai chicken had any less heat than the yaki soba (which indeed was quite spicy, particularly for a mass-market family place), it was only by a very slim margin. They were so close, in fact, that we took the unusual step of inquiring to our waiter, in response to which he offered to have it remade without the hot Thai chilis. We agreed to this solution, but couldn't help wondering why that possibility didn't come up earlier the first time we ordered.

Overall the food was just okay; definitely not something I would go across town for again.

The Diner, Meatpacking

2008-09-21T20:00:00.001-04:00

To close out the weekend we headed down to The Diner, Meatpacking, lured by the hope of expertly prepared comfort food and a kids menus that includes a scrambled eggs and french fries combo (as entree and side that is, not combined hash-style).

The adults had the steak sandwich and the Kobe sliders, about both of which we could offer no complaints. With simple food like this, the kitchen just has to make sure there are no glaring mistakes that would jar the diners away from the enjoyment of ingredients they know taste too good not to be in direct conflict with continuing good health. After all, it's hard to go wrong combining tender slab of decent quality meat with cheese, some onions, peppers, and a dollop of mayonnaise and coaxing it onto a hunk of bread. Not impossible (certainly I have seen it done and can point out some places it's done on a regular basis), but it takes some effort. No problem here, though, as it was executed quite well down to the proper degree of doneness (medium rare).

The best thing about eating at The Diner, at least from our table, was the opportunity to sit halfway inside and outside on a nice day and enjoy the passing slice of life that is the meatpacking district. We were lucky to have a table facing The Apple Store, which provides ample amusement just by itself. If conversation starts to slow, it can be fun to try to keep a running tally of those who are/aren't dressed in black as they enter the store.

Café Frida

2008-09-20T23:18:00.006-04:00

This evening we traveled across town to Café Frida, on Columbus Avenue behind the natural history museum. This was our second trip there in the past couple of weeks, and on the basis of this visit it may now have secured the top spot in our family Mexican restaurant rotation, despite the extra distance.

The outside appearance of the place isn't anything remarkable, and I would assume it's intended mainly to minimize attention and walk-in traffic off the street. In addition, there is an unpleasant feature wherein as soon as you enter you feel like you have stepped into a frosty wind tunnel courtesy of the air curtain generated by a massive vent above the hostess station. High marks for minimizing excess energy use from cooling/heat loss via the doorway, but since you have to stand in the midst of this vortex while negotiating with the hostess and waiting to be seated, it makes the initial part of the dining experience uncomfortably like being processed through a decontamination chamber.

Thankfully the dining room itself doesn't suffer from this defect, and although the tables are densely packed into a small area it feels comfortable and friendly rather than overcrowded. There weren't nearly as many oil paintings on the walls as I would have expected given the description from OpenTable indicating the interior is inspired by the restaurant's namesake artist, but I suppose I was reading it far too literally. The influence is definitely understated with just a single portrait of Frida and an absence of cliched Mexican paraphernalia like sombreros, serapes, and pinatas.

All the main dishes were excellent, including the standard but well executed tacos al carbon with avocado and smoky chili sauces on the side. What makes this place stand out for us, though, is the selection side dishes. The rice casserole with zucchini and corn as well as the fried plantains are staples, and the corn souffle and roasted jalapenos are definitely worth trying.

Brunch at Balthazar

2008-09-20T14:44:00.000-04:00

This morning we headed down to Balthazar in SOHO for brunch. We got there at about 9:30, and were surprised to be presented with a 45 minute wait (apparently a lot of other people have heard of this place). In any case, going against my usual policy which forbids waiting for breakfast, we decided to stay, and were seated after about 35 minutes.

The baked goods were excellent, and we all agreed that the they were worth the 50% relative price increase over our standard bakery brunch (Le Pain Quotidien). Hazel nut waffles were quite good as well.

California Pizza Kitchen

2007-11-21T21:00:00.000-05:00

Tonight after work I met the family at California Pizza Kitchen on Park Avenue. As I have mentioned before, it's not that CPK's pizza is that good (certainly not compared with many of the New York-style pizza establishments I have grown accustomed to), but it is familoar and reliable. I wouldn't even necessarily call it pizza exactly; just a distant relative from across the country that bears only a vague resemblance.

I haven't been keeping an exact count, but for about the past 25 times I have been to CPK I have ordered the same item, the California Club pizza on whole wheat dough. Note that those 25 visits have occurred within the past year. Since moving to Manhattan a few months ago the frequency of my visits there has decreased significantly, but in Seattle it was at least a weekly destination.

I am not sure exactly how I got into the rut with the California Club, which is one of their salad pizzas served with lettuce, tomatos, and avocado on top (applied after the pizza is baked, of course). I can't imagine getting a more traditional type of pizza there like pepperoni or sausage, since as stated previously I think there are many better options for that.

Amazingly enough, our five-year-old son's attachment to the kids' Hawaiian pizza goes back even further than my California Club streak. He has frequently vowed that he will never try anything different there for the rest of his life. We are hoping that he reconsiders at some point, but for the present he seems pretty steadfast in his conviction that nothing could be the Hawaiian. As a result of this, he is pretty particular about the exact preparation, and therein a problem has arisen in our visits to CPK since moving here.

In Seattle, a CPK kids' Hawaiian is made definitively with pineapple and Canadian bacon.
However, here in New York, a choice is offered between Canadian bacon and pepperoni. To complicate matters, it is not altogether clear what the default choice is supposed to be. Since we are used to the Seattle version, on at least one previous occasion we have forgotten to specify and wound up with Pepperoni, which our son finds unacceptable. Apparently even as close as it is, the pepperoni version is different enough to be banned along with the rest of the menu choices at CPK from consideration for all time.

On this particular evening we encountered the problem once again. It had been a while since we had been there, and so when ordering we forgot to specify the Canadian bacon explicitly. When the pepperoni-topped pizza arrived, the problem was immediately detected, and a new one was comissioned. The surprising thing in this case was that the second pizza also arrived with pepperoni, even after the clear request.

Dinner at Les Halles

2007-11-19T23:55:00.000-05:00

Tonight was another late night at work, and afterward a colleague and I stopped at nearby Les Halles for dinner before heading home. This is significant because we tried to go there twice in the last week, but left after we found it too crowded to wait.

It seems that Mondays are fairly light, though, and so tonight we got right into the mostly empty dining room without any problem.

I ordered my standby favorite Hamburger Rossini, while my colleague opted for the establishment favorite Steak Frites.

Usually we find ourselves waiting at least 20 minutes or so for our food to arrive, but tonight it arrived in an amazing 5 minutes or so. I assume that given the light Monday night crowd, the whole kitchen staff was poised and waiting to pounce on our orde.

Sunday Dinner at Zarela

2007-11-18T19:10:00.000-05:00

Zarela on 2nd Avenue is a weekend standby for us, partly because of their Sunday night prix fixe specials. Tonight was a Zarela night, and we very much enjoyed the three-course special menu. I started with the chicken and tomato soup (with avocado and chickpeas), and then for the main course tried a braised pork preparation that seemed to be in a Yucatan style with an achiote sauce. My wife had the tropical salad to begin with followed by chicken with house mole.

For dessert we were served the usual bread pudding with vanilla sauce. Altogether a fine dining experience, with no service glitches of any kind.

Dinner at Bocca

2007-11-17T10:40:00.000-05:00

Tonight it was extremely cold outside when we left work, and so my friend and I were interested in the closest place we could find to get a decent meal. Our first stop was Les Halles on Park Avenue, but at 9:00 on a Friday night it was packed and so we moved south in a taxi. We tried Bocqueria and Pipas hoping for some tapas, but were faced with long waits at both. We speculated that the cold weather must be forcing pedestrians off the street into any available restaurant, causing the overcrowding, and were about to head into a movie theater to make do with nachos and hot dogs when we happened on Bucco, which neither of us had visited before.

Luckily there was only a brief wait at Bucco, and so we readily agreed to wait at the bar until our table was ready. I ordered one of their specialty cocktails, the Red Hook, which is a variation on the traditional Manhattan that incorporates a splash of Angostura Bitters.

Within a couple minutes of receiving our drinks, we were surprised to find that our table was ready, and so we headed back to be seated. One comaint I had was that they asked us to settle up at the bar before being seated, pretty much left us to our own devices with regard to getting transferred to the table. Of course finer restaurants would seamless have a server whisk the drinks away on a platter to be re-served at the table while transferring the check. I didn't expect that kind of treatment, but I did find it pretty inconvenient to wait for the bartender's availability yo pay the check and then negotiate my way through the crowded bar area with a ful-to-the-brim cocktail sloshing about.

We made it to the table after a few minutes, though, and quickly made our selections. We chose to start with an appetizer platter consisting of 3 meats and 3 cheeses. The quality of the salami, mortadella, and prosciutto was excellent, and the cheeses (particularly the soft Robiola) were the perfect complement.

For dinner I selected a gnocchi dish with wild boar ragout, while my friend chose greek-style spaghetti. I thoroughly enjoyed the gnocchi, which had just the right pillowy consistency and authentically varied shapes. The ragout was very good as well, slightly spicy with meltingly tender shredso of boar meat spread throughout.

Primehouse

2007-11-15T00:30:00.000-05:00

Tonight I joined a colleague after work at Primehouse on Park Avenue. We had attempted to go to our usual favorite Les Halles, but despite the fact that it was 10:30 on a Thursday night it was packed, and we found ourselves waiting 15 minutes for a table. After debating the whole time about whether about the pros and cons of leaving versus continuing to wait, we finally decided to tell the hostess that regrettably we were heading out somewhere else. Of course she indicated that she was sorry and that we were next on the list to be seated. We stuck to our decision, though, and headed off down Park Avenue towards Primehouse.

Admittedly 10:30PM is not really the ideal time to consume a large quantity of red meat; much less if one intends to toddle off to bed immediately afterward. Nonetheless, we were hungry and happened by immediately after our disappointing rejection from Les Halles (also in no small measure a carnivore's paradise as well), and were therefore persuaded to head inside. We figured if there was no wait we would eat there; otherwise we would just move on.

Notwithstanding the crowd of people in the lobby, we found that there was no wait for our party of two, and so we were quickly shown to a table. Given our recent experience at Les Halles, my hungry and impatient colleague immediate started a ten-minute stopwatch to countdown the time until we would leave unless we saw a waiter or waitress to take at least our drink order. Perhaps unreasonable, but understandable given the wait we had already experienced and our level of hunger by that time.

Luckily the waiter appeared just in time to take our drink order. After that he quickly returned and took our dinner order. We both selected the tableside preparation of Ceasar salad, with the optional imported white anchovies. For the main course, my colleague selected a sea bass preparation, while I chose the bone-in pork chop with stuffed apple.

Much to my surprise, when I asked the waiter his opinion (which I often do, if for no other reason than for curiosity's sake to see whether the staff is actually trained in eating what they server), he recommended the pork over the filet mignon that was my main alternative. Here we were at a place called Primehouse, and the waiter recommended a pork chop. No prime steak was going to be delivered to our table.

Afternoon Snacks at Max Brenner's

2007-11-10T15:14:00.000-05:00

After doing some shopping in the area, this afternoon we decided to stop in at Max Brenner's in Union Square for a quick dose of chocolate to tide us over until dinner. One of our guests had had heard good things about it from friends, and this was the first time we had a chance to try it out.

Of course, on this particular afternoon, the majority of the Manhattan population plus quite a few visitors had the very same idea, and so there was quite a crowd by the time we got there at 1:30. We were given an estimated wait time for a table of 25 minutes, which turned into 40 before we were actually seated.

This just heightened our anticipation, though, and so we were happy to sit down at last and peruse the menu. After thoroughly browsing the options, we decided to share the fondue sampler for the table, with a couple of us opting for various forms of hot chocolate as well. For myself I chose the Mexican spicy hot chocolate.

One odd thing that happened right off is that when the waitress first came to take our order, I was first to jump in and order to hot chocolate. The rest of our part of five, though, spent a minute or so hemming and hawing about what they wanted and do the waitress, eyeing the crowded dining room anxiously, quickly jumped in with an offer to give us more time. It was clear that we were not ready to commit to an order, so it is certainly understandable that whe would want to move on. We agreed, although I had my usual pangs of regret knowing that once you send a waitress away once, they don't return on their own.

After ten minutes or so she finally returned after a nod in her direction, and took the rest of our order. What was strange, though, was that at the end of the ordering process she indicated that she had already turned in my order for the hot chocolate, and sure enough just a couple of minutes later it arrived, far in advance of the rest of the items we ordered. Strange that she didn't wait until the whole order was complete, since I was long finished with my hot chocolate by the time everyone else started. It was extremely busy, though, so I can forgive the small inconvenience. I just though it would be easier for her to combine it all into a single order.

Overall, temperature of the hot drinks was a problem (somewhat ironic given later events with the hibachi grill). All the hot chocolate orders and my wife's coffee were lukewarm at best. My wife wet so far as to ask the waitress to exchange hers, not only because of the fact it wasn't hot but also because the outside of the mug was coated with some kind of sticky chocolate residue.

When the fondue sampler arrived, it came with the promised mini-hibachi grill for toasting the accompanying marshmallows. We all tried our hand at toasting a marshmallow, with some difficulty since the grill didn't seem very hot, providing heat in only a couple of spots.

Drinks and Dinner at Brazil Grill

2007-11-10T08:16:00.000-05:00

Tonight we went out late with some friends, and found ourselves at the Brazil Grill on 8th Avenue in the theater district. We arrived there around 12:30AM, and I was the only one in the group who had not eaten dinner, so I was looking for food while the others were interested in dessert and/or cocktails.

We were seated in the bar area, and I was relieved to find that even at that late hour I could still get a dinner menu, rather than being restricted to the much more limited bar menu.

I was a bit overwhelmed by the array of choices, particularly since I don't have a lot of experience with Brazilian specialties, so I just asked the waiter to recommend something. He immediately suggested the Churrasco a Moda, a sizzling shell steak with garlic sauce, to which I readily agreed. The other members of our party selected a variety of drinks, including the recommended Brazilian beer and wine selections (Brahma and Brazilian Rio Soul, respectively), as well as a couple of cocktails and dessert.

When the drinks arrived, I was amused to see that the beer bottles were presented with napkins wrapped neckerchief-style around the top. I was curious to know if there was any rationale for this other than el gaucho aesthetics, but nothing came to mind.

After the drinks, my food arrived quickly, served as advertised on a sizzling hot cast-iron skillet. Basically it was four thin shell steaks topped with coarsely chopped garlic cloves along with meat juices. It was accompanied by a large platter of white rice, a bowl of black beans, and several condiments including a yucca flour mixture, a sweetish salsa with peppers and onions, and a hot chili oil with chunks of dried chili pepper. It was quite a spread, and I felt a bit self conscious with all of those items arrayed around me while everyone else had only drinks. Nevertheless, I was very hungry by that time and didn't waste any time digging in.

The shell steaks were very good; the waiter had made an excellent choice, and the attendant variety of condiments made for interesting experimentation and mix-and-match. The chili oil was surprisingly (pleasantly) hot; usually I find that when the servers give spice level warnings they tend to go a bit overboard on the cautionary side, but indeed in this case it was very hot.

The quantity was quite overwhelming, and clearly enough for at least two hungry people. Therefore I ate half, and I was quite full by the time I finished that portion.

Late Night Dinner at Buddakan

2007-11-08T01:00:00.000-05:00

This evening after work I joined some colleagues for a late-night dinner at Buddakan in the Meatpacking District. Buddakan reminds me of other Asian nightclub fusion restaurants I have visited since moving to this area such as Koi and Tao. In addition to representing the high art of nonspecific pan-Asian cuisine, these establishments share an approach that in my mind suggests that they put at least as much investment in the wall treatments and soundtrack as they do the food. That's not to say that they don't put a lot into the food, which is good at any of these places. Just that it's not going to be able to outshine the other components in the atmosphere, and it's not competing with the really good restaurants that focus more on gastronomical features as opposed to ambience and vibe.

We showed up a little bit early for our 9:45 reservation, and the first thing we noticed was the impressive reception desk that reminds one strongly of a hotel checkin counter. It was clear that they were extremely busy (despite the relative lateness of the hour for dinner on a Wednesday night), and we were invited into the bar/lounge area to await our table.

We wound up waiting for about 40 minutes or so for our table, during which we enjoyed cocktails at the bar. Apparently Buddakan is in need of a better system for notifying waiting guests that their tables are ready, since during that time we were approached three times by hostesses trying to determine whether we were a particular named party that was ready to be seated. Each time they left to continue their search after determining that we were not the party they were looking for. Not that I would suggest that they need to announce names over a loudspeaker ala Red Lobster or similar, but it created a roller coaster of anticipation and disappointment each time it occurred, and probably made the wait time seem longer than it actually was.

Nevertheless, the time passed quickly and finally on the fourth try the hostess matched up our name to a table and led us away to be seated. Walking through the restaurant gave us a good chance to check out the various murals and other impressive wall treatments, which as stated above were clearly an important of the overall experience.

After a brief discussion with the waiter, we decide on the omikase menu for ease of ordering. This included an inquiry by our waiter about how hungry we were on a scale of one to ten, which we averaged out to seven. It was nice that he made the attempt to size the meal to fit our preference, and it actually turned out to be a pretty close match to our capacity.

One of our party who was more familiar with sake options than I asked for hot sake and was told that there was none offered there at Buddakan. After a skeptical glare, he instead decided on a cold option that the table shared.

The first round in the omikase menu included raw tuna spring rolls, fried rock shrimp in a velvety sauce, boneless spareribs, and a king crabmeat salad. The spring rolls in particular stood out, although the fried wrappers were a bit on the oily side. It was impressive that they were able to squeeze raw tuna into fried eggroll wrappers as if the wrappers had been cooked with the tuna inside.

After the appetizers came the main course, which included a black code with what I assumed to ba a kasu glaze, sausage fried rice, sliced strip steak, and a sliced pork tenderloin served overo sticky rice that was presented over a large lotus leaf. The pork tenderloin seemed to be the clear winner, but that may be because of my fondness for the lotus leaf sticky rice combination one typically gets at a dim sum house. The pork was prepared medium rare, which I know can be off-putting for some, but I thought it was excellent.

After checking to make sure we were open to the idea of dessert, the waiter brought out a trio of sweets that included a molten chocolate cake, a napoleon of chocolate mousse and banana sandwiched between sheets of thin dark chocolate, and a meringue tart with some kind of sweet potato relish. All three were served with some variety of ice cream or gelato. Of these, the napoleon was clearly superior, as the chocolate ice cream accompanying it included a mildly spicy chocolate crumb mixture that provided a perfect counterpart to the rich sweetness of the ice cream.

In all, the experience was quite good, including the careful attention to all kinds of aesthetics, not just the food.

Country Cafe Brunch

2007-11-04T16:07:00.000-05:00

This morning we chose to venture away from our neighborhood for an early brunch, and so we settled on Country Cafe on Madison Ave at 29th Street. The Cafe is the less formal companion to Country restaurant, and both are attached to the Carlton Hotel.

One small complaint I have about New York restaurants is that most don't start serving brunch until at least 11:00 AM, and frequently not until noon. Now, in my book by starting that late they lose any legitimate claim to use the "br" prefix. I have to admit that this is largely due to the fact that for me, the concept of brunch is mainly temporal, where the ordinarily acceptable time for consuming breakfast fare is extended through the adjacent lunch timeframe. By serving brunch from noon until 4:00 PM, restaurants are completely severing the time relationship of brunch to breakfast, and the whole thing breaks down into a "let's just eat breakfast food whenever we please no matter what time it is" affair. I don't know why this is so troubling to me; it just is.

Not to digress too far, though, I have managed to accustom myself to the idea that if we want to eat brunch brunch before 11:00 AM, we have very few choices. It was in this spirit that we set out to try Country Cafe, pleased as we were that they would be serving a full brunch menu when we arrived at 9:00. Hotels are always a good bet for those wanting to eat an early morning meal, but an unfortunate corollary of the aforementioned brunch time issue is that even hotel establishments will specifically offer distinct breakfast and brunch menus, with the latter and it's expanded set of choices not being offered until the late morning or early afternoon. Country Cafe appeared to be an exception.

Our experience started out well enough. We were seated promptly and given menus, which we were left to study for a bit longer than usual. After about 15 minutes or so, our waiter finally appeared. This event was significant mainly because it was the only time during our visit that the waiter came to our table without having to be flagged down. After taking our order he quickly disappeared, and thus began our long wait for final delivery of all the items.

A quick sign of trouble was the fact that 10 or 15 minutes went by without me getting the coffee that had been my first request when the waiter arrived previously. Now, I am not one of those caffeine fiends that goes from edgy to postal if they have to wait more than 5 minutes for a cup of coffee in the morning, but I am well aware that they exist, and therefore would expect that restaurants open in the morning must be even more conscious of their likely presence. Accordingly, I believe most all restaurants recognize the importance of quick coffee delivery to maintaining a harmonious breakfast environment. When I at last flagged down the waiter, it was clear that he had no recollection of my ordering the coffee, which I received a few minutes later.

The next part of the order to be delivered was a pair of fruit smoothies. They had some interesting choices, including the strawberry-mint and banana-honey varieties that we had selected. I had a good view of the swinging door to the kitchen, and at the point the smoothies were ready the restaurant was still uncrowded enough that I could readily detect that the server who emerged from the kitchen carrying a try with two tall frosty glasses was destined for our table.

What I saw at that point was something that I have experienced at times before, where it is obvious that the server has rushed out of the kitchen with a tray of food and then realizes that he has no idea where he is taking it. I watched uneasily as he hesitated a few paces from the kitchen door, glanced around the dining room for some help or hint, took a few steps in circle, and then promptly turned around and headed back into the kitchen.

My feelings when watching this were pretty much the same as usual. I knew those smoothies were ours. I knew that he was going to go into the kitchen, do some checking, and then come out sometime later and bring them to us. I also knew that since they were smoothies with significant ice content, their quality was only going to degrade the longer their delivery was delayed, particularly if that time was spent in a hot kitchen. I wanted to help the guy out, maybe get up from the table and lead him over to save time and trouble. I think that doing so would breach some dividing line that separates patrons from wait staff, and would come across as unseemly questioning of their professionalism. So, I remained in my seat watching the spectacle with detached bemusement and as I expected, a few minutes later the server re-emerged and headed straight for our table to deliver the smoothies.

That pretty much set the stage for the whole meal, which was a disaster from a service standpoint. While a couple of our main courses were delivered simultaneously (my wife had two eggs with a side of cheesy grits, while I had selected the oeufs au plat), the rest of the meal was spent trying to get the rest of the items we had ordered, including those intended for our 5-year-old son. We twice had to flag down our waiter to ask when the rest of the items were coming, and each time a server brought something, it was either wrong or incomplete. It was obvious that the staff was harried and rushing about trying to fulfill all the requests and orders, but given the rate of errors their jobs were very difficult given the number of trips required for each table. It was hard to see why this would be the case, given that there seemed to be an adequate number of servers and the room was not full. It was clear from the comments we overheard from other tables that we were not alone in the problems we experienced. The food was fairly good, but not good enough to make up for the fact that it was like pulling teeth to get what we ordered.

By the time we finally got the order of bacon that our son had been waiting for since we arrived, along with jelly for his toast, my wife and I were long finished with our food. All we wanted to do was pay our bill and get out of there in order to begin the process of forgetting about the experience. The final insult, though, had yet to be delivered. When my wife went to sign the check and figure an appropriate tip for the experience we had had, she saw that they had automatically added a 20% gratuity to the bill. This for a party of 3. It seemed outrageous, even if the service hadn't been so bad.

Unfortunately we were in a hurry to get to another engagement and running late, due to the length of time it took to complete our order. So, we decided not to take it up with the staff at that time.

Todd English @ JFK

2007-10-16T23:09:00.000-04:00

This evening I was catching a flight out of JFK, and after I breezed through an atypically short security line, I found myself with just enough time to forgo a quick sandwich-to-go. Instead, I ventured as close as is possible to fine dining inside an airport terminal (at least here in the US) with a visit to Todd English's Bonfire at JFK Terminal 2.

For those not familiar, TEB JFK is an offshoot of celebrity chef Todd English's retaurant empire (not only celebrity chef, but Iron Chef, no less). It provides a simplified version of the Todd English's Bonfire Steakhouse menu stripped down and tailored to meet the demands of airline gate schedules.

Going in, I did have some cause for concern. I believe that in nearly all possible contexts, whether literary, cinematic, musical, and certainly gastronomic, that a title prefixed by possessive proper noun signals the final stage of transition that starts with principled artistry, proceeds to lucrative celebrity, and finally concludes with shameless profiteering. Think Tom Clancy's Op Center, Emeril's Steak Knife Set, Wes Craven's New Nightmare. Putting a well-known name at the head of a title suggests that the credibility it lends is more significant than any that could possibly come from the item on it's own, and often signifies a deliberate choice to disregard all concerns of overexposure or brand purity in favor of pure monetization, regardless of the consequences in terms of diminishing credibility.

I was lucky to get a seat right in front of the open kitchen, which offered a clear view of the plating operation and banter between line cooks and expediter. I was only seated a couple of moments before a waitress came by to take my order, and I made a snap decision for the Barbeque Shrimp.

I hadn't really noticed any of the kitchen chatter up until that point due to the background noise in the place, but soon after placing my order I clearly heard the expediter's voice rise above the din saying "uh oh, we've got a barbeque shrimp here," in a kind of surprised, bemused voice that I was afraid might be intended to convey something like "you're not gonna believe this guys, someone actually ordered the barbeque shrimp; better break out the recipe for that one." I always make it a point to consciously identify and avoid menu items that are present only for completeness' sake and/or rarely ordered. Vegetarian pasta at a steakhouse for example is likely to be on the menu solely to cater to the one-in-a-thousand non-meat-eating customers who happen to be eating with their carnivorous friends, and may not represent the kitchen's best efforts.

In any case, after a mere ten minutes or so my food was delivered piping hot to the table. It was a square of cornbread, on top of which 4 large sauteed shrimp were laid, with a drizzle of barbeque sauce, green onions, and parsley decorating the top. It was quite simple but surprisingly good, and allayed my fears about the infrequency of its preparation as well as the credibility of a one-off celebrity gravy train.

The whole experience of ordering and eating only took about 25-30 minutes in total; remarkably efficient.

Saturday Evening Smörgåsbord

2007-10-13T20:53:00.000-04:00

Today for the first time since we arrived here in August the weather turned cool enough to feel like Autumn. So, it seemed like the perfect night to sample the cuisine of Scandinavia without having to worry about the consequences of eating a heavy meal of Swedish Meatballs and then heading down into a cozy 90-plus degree subway station. For this occasion we chose to dine at Aquavit Cafe on 55th Street near Park Avenue.

The Cafe is the somewhat less formal auxiliary to the Aquavit Dining Room, with which it shares a common entrance and kitchen. We stopped by on a whim, curious to see if the three of us could get in without a reservation at that time on a Saturday evening. Luckily it was no problem, with the exception of what I have come to expect as the usual reaction from the maître d'. I find that they seem to practice inflection and intonation of the question "do you have a reservation?" in such a way as to suggest that they sincerely wish they could help you but honestly, you are foolish to think that you would be able to visit there without planning ahead. That ritual completed, he promptly led us to a table amid the half-empty dining area.

While I was certainly aware of the existence and reputation of Aquavit from previous visits and had been wanting to try it for some time, I did not realize until my visit there (sparked by a glance at a brochure near the restrooms) that the executive chef, Marcus Samuelsson, is the same person who has been enlisted by Starbuck's to try to bring some culinary credibility to their undeniably lackluster food offerings. I quickly recognized his image from the many times I have now seen it splashed against a wall next to a refrigerator case of plastic-clad sandwiches. While Starbuck's does seem to work in a few locally sourced baked goods, the rest of their food is industrially produced in regional baking centers, and I have found that it is typically on par with what one would get from a Hostess thrift shop. I stick with the Espresso. I have to admit that this realization definitely lowered my expectations for the meal I was about to have at Aquavit, as it is an undeniable reality that the chef's recent associations require his reputation to come to equilibrium somewhere between Aquavit and Starbuck's.

That said, we decided to start out in Scandinavian style with the herring sampler (three varieties, curried, pickled, and in a sour cream sauce) along with cocktails. I tried a Manhattan Martini, which was infused with cucumber and garnished with a couple of cucumber ribbons, while my wife had the Aquapolitan, which incorporated lemon and cranberry.

Not being a frequent preserved fish eater, I expected the herring to be somewhat challenging to our relatively untested (by herring, anyway) palates. It turned out not to be a challenge at all, though and all three of the herring varieties were interesting and appealing in their own way, without any strong fishiness. The sour cream version was the richest, and the curry had a pleasantly sweet flavor of apple.

Along with the herring, we were presented with a complimentary bowl of herbed popcorn, which little J in particular quite enjoyed (he wasn't big on the herring). They also provided a selection of breads including a couple of rolls and some flatbread.

For the main course, I tried the black cod while my wife chose to stay with the traditional meatballs. Although there wasn't a children's menu we managed to find an appropriate choice for J, a baked flatbread equivalent to pizza. We just had them hold the onions.

Of course the meatballs were good, and included the traditional lingonberries and whipped potatoes. The black cod was also excellent, served with a dash of whipped sweet potatoes and a sort of glazed eggplant. J was uncertain about the flatbread/pizza, but thankfully he enjoyed the bread and other starters enough to make up for it. Both adults gave it an enthusiastic thumbs up, though.

Regarding the earlier comments on reservations, as we were finishing we witnessed an interesting incident wherein an elderly woman, well-dressed and burdened by a couple of fresh shopping bags, came through the lobby and prepared to make herself comfortable at the table next to ours. Apparently she had just breezed past the maître d', and by the time he noticed her she was already in the cafe dining room. He quickly hustled over and, clearly somewhat flustered at this flagrant lack of deference to his assigned responsibilities, asked in an assertive I-call-the-shots-here tone if he could help her. He was obviously trying to hide his disbelief and impression that she either just dropped in from another very distant planet where people can just walk into a restaurant of Aquavit's caliber and just grab a seat of their choice, or else she was suffering from mental disease of a sort that would severely impair her understanding of social and restaurant conventions. For her part, it seemed that she felt this questioning was an affront to her dignity, and for a awkward moment it seemed that a confrontation was brewing.

Before it got started, though, another staff member, clearly recognizing her from across the room, quickly came over and greeted her by name. The maître d', realizing that this must be a regular (curious he didn't already know that if it was indeed the case) or friend of the staff, quickly backed off and tried to withdraw from the situation as graciously as possible. The woman didn't seem to want to let him get away easily, though, asking him a couple of times Taxi Driver-style if there was a problem.

Late Dinner at Koi

2007-10-10T22:36:00.000-04:00

This evening was another late night at work, and afterward I joined a colleague at nearby Koi on West 40th in midtown, right next to Bryant Park. Koi specializes in Japanese cuisine, particularly sushi, with a California influence. I'm not sure, but I think what that means is that all of the waiters and waitresses are moonlighting while they wait to get their big break into movies or TV, and can break out a portfolio including head shot on a moment's notice.

My friend and I concentrated on the sushi, which was good, but to be sure there was a gap between the food I was eating and the amount of money I paid for it. Clearly one who goes there cannot be satisfied if they think that all the money goes toward ingredients and preparation; I have had equally good sushi here at places where the cost is a third of that at Koi. The secret of enjoying the experience at Koi lies in knowing and enjoying those extra things you are getting for your money.

For starters, there's the interior design of the place, which definitely incorporates LA-inspired aesthetics and attention to fashion detail. Many of the walls are covered with meticulously trimmed miniature bamboo forests, which are attractive and soothing to look at. Fixed along the back wall and covering a good portion of the ceiling there is some kind of treatment that looks like massively enlarged chicken wire, behind which and shining through is a vortex image that serves as the focal point of the restaurant. I'm not sure what it all means, but it must be something pretty clever and profound, and while I am not design-conscious enough to appreciate it I sometimes like to daydream that I am. Sitting in the midst of it gives one the impression that they are smart and sophisticated, and surely that's worth at least a 50% upcharge.

Adding to the atmosphere is the louder-than-usual-for-a-restaurant music, which although not quite the intensity required for a dance floor prompted my friend to remark that the place couldn't decide if it wanted to be a restaurant or a nightclub.

The staff at Koi was obviously screened heavily for aesthetic appeal as well. Not just for the host(ess) positions as usual, but also the wait staff, who all appeared stylish and sleekly dressed. I didn't get a look in the kitchen, but I assume the line cooks would also have been wearing black silk shirts and faux-alligator shoes.

Of course all of this emphasis on style and dare I say superficial features attracts a certain type of patron, of the sort that would tend to appreciate the emphasis on good looks and style. Again, I can't claim to fall into this category, but I can appreciate that paying for the illusion of belonging there even for a few brief moments justifies a higher price.

On the food front, I enjoyed some competently prepared sushi and maki including a rock shrimp California roll that the waitress recommended. I have to admit that the miso soup was probably the best I have had anywhere. I also found that our waitress was more helpful and friendly than I expected (based on the atmosphere I expected haughtines and arrogance). I think I would skip dessert next time, which although compelling in presentation tasted like it was made from pre-fab ingredients chosen for their utility in creating an attractive visual arrangement.

Columbus Day Feast at Bar Americain

2007-10-08T19:43:00.000-04:00

The idea of having Columbus Day as a holiday from work was quite a novelty for me, this being the first time I have worked for a company that made it an official observance. In fact, I hadn't realized that this was even a possibility except for those in the banking and perhaps scholastic professions. So, In honor of the occasion and newly discovered holiday it seemed appropriate to celebrate with a fine evening meal.

In thinking about the appropriate choice for this particular day, our first thought was perhaps something Italian. But wait, we thought; perhaps Spanish would be more appropriate. After wrestling with the choices for a few minutes we hit upon the perfect choice: Bar Americain. What better way to celebrate the arguable and somewhat dubious discovery of the continent then by sampling celebrity-chef-rendered versions of some of the best cuisine subsequently to develop there.

A side note about Bobby Flay: by now it is fashionable for foodie snobs to look down their noses at celebrity chefs and the food TV network that once seemed so novel. I have to admit that I myself used to enjoy the sport of making disdainful comments during the many episodes of Bobby's shows that I somehow found myself watching against my better judgement. How did this guy get a TV show, I wondered, remarking at how he came across as a kid with an undeserved sense of culinary entitlement rather than a knowledgeable authority on food and cooking.

But, this was before I had visited any of his restaurants. After my first trip to Bolo, I began to have second thoughts. The food there was excellent, with interesting and well-presented menu choices. I reasoned that this could be explained by a top-notch supporting staff. How much time did Bobby really spend there, anyway? Surely by that point he was just coming in to an occasional cameo between book signings and endorsement photo shoots.

After that, though, intrigued by the experience at Bolo, I had the opportunity to visit pretty much all of his other restaurants, in both New York and Las Vegas. Each time I visited New York, I found myself looking forward to revisiting his places more so than any other. I had to admit that whatever involvement he had or whatever he was doing to supervise his restaurants and their menus, they were all unarguably good, and Bobby deserved a large part of the credit, if for nothing else than assembling the staff and creating the right environment for them to flourish.

So, our expectations were high as we went in to Bar Americain for dinner. I am happy to say that we were not in any way disappointed. Everything there is executed very well, from the bread baskets that include among other items herbed corn sticks.

Our favorite appetizer is the Lobster and Avocado seafood cocktail, which we shared along with a simple mesclun salad. We followed that with the rack of pork, which was served along with a nice take on creamed corn that included red bell pepper and green onions. My wife had the daily special buttermilk fried chicken, which came with biscuits and a honey-mustard horseradish dipping sauce.

We debated about whether to have dessert, but the waiter made such a big deal about cleaning the table of crumbs and bringing out a new white napkin to cover over the spots of sauce from the pork that I had strewn across the table while transferring portions between plates that we gave in. I know that's the reason they do it, and it always seems like the ritual is a bit insulting, as if to say that somehow there's now way they can let you continue the meal until they can clean up some of the mess you have made. Nevertheless, they went to some effort and we didn't need that much convincing.

Between the three of us we had a chocolate layer cake with ganache, peanut butter, and rocky road topping, a black-bottom tart with roasted figs, and also a plum tart with vanilla gelato. All were exquisitely prepared and presented, and tasted just as good.

Say what you like about Bobby Flay, we will be going back again for more.

Dinner at Artisanal

2007-10-07T20:32:00.000-04:00

This evening we headed down to Murray Hill for dinner at Artisanal, just off of Park Avenue. This was our second visit since moving here, and when a friend mentioned a recent lunch there earlier in the week we were reminded of how much we enjoyed it the first time, and thus planned a return visit in short order.

If one weren't already aware before entering, it would become quickly apparent that Artisanal is all about cheese in just about every variety imaginable (although centered mostly around French varieties). One interesting feature is the cheese cave, which is an alcove off the main dining room surrounded by refrigerated cheese where you can reserve a table and be ensconced on three sides by dairy. There is also a cheese counter where you can walk in off the street and purchase a block of one of their more than 200 varieties to take home with you.

This evening we decided that we might as well go for the most indulgent cheese experience of all, the fondue. We ordered the specialty of the day, and while I didn't quite catch the whole list of ingredients, I believe the waitress said something about garlic confit. By default they serve it with bread cubes, but you can also order a variety of additional items to bathe in the cheese. We chose apples, crudite, and dried beef slices.

One of the things I like about Artisanal is that they offer wine tastings that include three two-ounce servings. My wife and I like to try different wines but usually a single glass is enough, so this is perfect for us.

Our waitress this evening was clearly new on the job, and she had a lot of trouble recalling the specials for the evening. Not that we minded, but she was clearly a little bit exasperated that she had to keep pulling the note card out of her pocket for reference as she was going through the list. She omitted the game bird du jour that was mentioned in the menu, and when I asked about it the only thing she was clear about was that it had buckshot in it. I had to ask her to repeat what she said because I thought perhaps I had heard incorrectly, but she repeated that indeed it was likely to have buckshot in it, and she thought it was partridge. Apparently they don't stress the game bird part of the menu, since she didn't have anything about it on the card and had to go check with the kitchen about it Given the emphasis on the dangers of residual buckshot in the preparation certainly it seemed like they weren't anxious to push it. Apparently not much of a big seller.

Given the emphasis on cheese and bread, we asked the waitress if there was any way we could get a grilled cheese sandwich for our five-year-old son, which we didn't see on the menu. She indicated that she would check with the chef, and returned a few moments later saying that indeed they could do it since they had a grilled cheese sandwich on the lunch menu. It's a good thing, too, since if she had said no I was inclined to ask to see the chef in person for an explanation about how it could be that the kitchen couldn't turn out a grilled cheese. Not that I would always expect to be able to order something off the menu ala Burger King have-it-your-way, but at a high-caliber outfit like Artisanal I would be surprised if that they couldn't accomodate such a request.

Happily, though, all was harmony as the meal got underway. The fondue was excellent, and after that we ordered the skate wing with fruit and cauliflower as well as the octopus salad. Both were excellent, and just the right light accompaniment to the heaviness of the fondue.

For dessert we decided to go all out and get the chocolate fondue for my wife and son to share, while I got the caramel and praline cheesecake. The fondue was just the right consistency so as to coat the dipping items without to much dripping, with a very refined smooth deep chocolate taste. The marshmallows were particularly popular with the youngest in the family. Likewise the cheesecake was an excellent choice, just the right degree of fluffiness, so that you don't feel like you are eating a brick of cheese and eggs.

Tal Bagel Bakery

2007-10-07T13:35:00.000-04:00

This morning for breakfast we wanted to try out the closest smoked fish and bagel place to our apartment, which happens to be Tal Bagel Bakery on 1st Avenue. Up until now we have only tried the sturgeon at Barney Greengrass over on the upper west side, which is really good but a bit of a trek. We wanted to see whether we could get anything at all similar without leaving our neighborhood.

We walked in and approached the counter at about 9:00AM, which is apparently just before the breakfast rush because they had at least ten people waiting to take orders behind the counter and only one other customer. We had to back away for a couple of minutes since we wanted to browse the overhead menu for a bit. Clearly the anxious staff was geared toward a clientele that walks in knowing exactly what they want, and wants it fast.

When we were finally finished perusing the choices and had decided what we wanted, I managed to get the attention of one of the staff (once they peg you as a browser you become invisible to them until you do something conspicuous to gain their attention, kind of the same feeling as the weird forehead guy from the subway scene of the movie Ghost).

In order to stay in the Barney Greengrass spirit, I ordered the sturgeon on a pumpernickel bagel with cream cheese, onions and tomatoes. My wife had the lox spread on a sesame seed bagel. We also tried a banana muffin that was billed as fat-free and "no added sugar" (which always leaves me wondering about the baseline sugar level before it counts as "added").

On a side note, it was a bit hard to understand the man behind the counter between the noise level and the fact that there were some language differences. The one thing I could understand clearly is that he kept calling me "boss" after each question (as in, "you want onions on that, boss?"). For some reason this made me strangely uncomfortable, and made it even hard to keep up with the order process since in addition to the noise and other distractions, I had a voice in my head that kept saying "why is he calling you boss? Nobody ever calls you boss. You're not the boss of anything" and so on. I was reminded of a Letterman show segment from a long time ago they called "Stop calling me Chief" where they would interview someone and end every question with "Chief." It had the same unnerving affect in both cases.

Once we had successfully acquired our food, we found a table and sat down to eat. The sturgeon bagel was excellent, and I would definitely get the same thing again. I couldn't exactly compare it to Barney Greengrass since my usual choice there is the scrambled eggs and sturgeon, but in a smoked fish and bagel showdown I would have to say that Tal is easily in the same league. I wonder how sugar- and fat-free the banana muffin actually was, but it was actually pretty good as well.

Next time we will be ready to fire away with an immediate order rather than waiting.

Weekend Finale at Molyvos

2007-09-30T20:30:00.000-04:00

Tonight we celebrated the end of our weekend with dinner at Molyvos on 7th Avenue. Our favorite restaurant in Seattle was a Greek-themed outfit called Lola, part of the Tom Douglas empire, and so far we have not yet found a replacement (not that we have made much of an attempt to search yet).

So, after some discussion earlier in the day we decided to see whether there was anything around that would make us forget about Lola. The one place we knew of was, Molyvos, which we came across on an earlier visit to the city but never actually tried.

We went for the prix fixe menu, which includes an appetizer, entree, and dessert. We both selected the Greek salad for the first course, which we both agreed compared very favorably with the one at Lola. The capers were a nice tough, and there was plenty of fresh mint to go with the tomatoes, cucmbers, red onions, olives, and feta.

I tried the lamb chops for the main course, while my wife sampled the cabbage rolls. Both were very good, although I think the lamb chops were a bit better. The preparation was simple grilling, but the accompanying frisee preparation and potato cake side complimented it very well. Little J had the free-range chicken, which surprisingly he seemed to like. Our normal strategy is to tell him that any chicken dish is "just like chicken nuggets," which he usually doesn't find convincing. Tonight, though, it didn't seem to matter and he accepted the admittedly un-nugget-like chicken they served on its own merits.

For dessert we tried a yogurt with strawberry-rhubarb sauce and pistachios, as well as a vanilla cake with fig topping. The yogurt (my wife's choice) was the superior of the two, with the nicely tangy, thick Greek yogurt supported by the tart-sweet rhubarb and strawberries. The cake and figs were good (I am a big fan of figs in any form), but a bit to precious for my taste. It was a tiny button of a cake with a couple of pieces of fig balanced on top; more presentation than substance.

All in all, it was a good experience, and we are likely to return to try some of the other offerings. In particular, there were at least three octopus dishes that I would like to try in the future.

Breakfast at Madison Restaurant

2007-09-30T10:08:00.000-04:00

For breakfast this morning we moved advanced down the diner canvassing list for our neighborhood and chose Madison Restaurant. Madison offers a the typical extensive New York diner menu that makes you wonder how one kitchen can possibly churn out so many different choices and varieties of cuisine. It's certainly good to know that if ever I have my heart set on fajitas and I'm meeting friends who crave bulgogi and lasagna, there will be options available to meet that need. One would think that overall quality would suffer from this lack of focus, but I say it's a small price to pay for such flexibility.

On the general topic of breakfast/brunch on Sundays, one thing we have noticed here is that while this may be the city that never sleeps, it certainly doesn't like to get up early and make brunch. From what we have seen so far, brunch hours typically start at 11:00 or even 12:00. Before that, you get a more limited breakfast menu. If you are an early riser on Sundays (and be early I mean 9:00), you have a bit of a wait before brunch. In my book, serving a meal starting at 11:00 and later makes it lunch, and maybe even dinner seeing as how it is often served late into the afternoon.

At Madison, they offer brunch starting at 10:00. Breakfast starts at 6:00. We were there shortly before 9:00, so we were limited to the breakfast menu. It didn't appear that there was much more available for brunch (besides different combination pricing), but still it would have been nice to have brunch start earlier.

The fresh-squeezed fruit juices (orange, grapefruit) were unusually frothy. They must have been juicing to order, or else I don't know how they would get that consistency. It was pretty good, if not quite cold enough.

I tried a feta and mushroom omelet, which was pretty good. My wife had comforting eggs and corned beef hash, which got a thumbs up despite a complaint that hashbrowns were served on the side. We enjoyed a lively discussion about whether or not the potato content of the hash made the hashbrown side redundant, and in the end agreed to disagree. Little J enjoyed the Waffle with bacon, but he maintained that the waffles at nearby Moonstruck Diner were better.

Guacamole tasting at Rosa's

2007-09-29T22:02:00.000-04:00

Tonight we dined at Rosa Mexicano on 1st Avenue. We have been to a couple of other Mexican restaurants around the area since moving here (Dos Caminos, Zarela), and tonight's mission was mainly to see how Rosa's tableside guacamole stacked up of Dos Caminos (we have yet to try guacamole at Zarela, but it's on the list).

Lunch at Ray Bari

2007-09-29T13:28:00.000-04:00

For lunch today we went in for a quick pizza slice at Ray Bari's on 3rd Avenue. Nothing adventurous; I had the plain Sicilian and my wife and J enjoyed broccoli and chicken and plain cheese, respectively. We'll consider this another one to check off the list of all the pizza places in Manhattan, each of which I intend to try. Of course, we'll probably be lucky even to get to all of the places named Ray's.

Saturday Morning Granola

2007-09-29T12:37:00.000-04:00

This morning for breakfast we walked up to Le Pain Quotidien at 67th and 2nd. We have been to the location on 57th by Central Park a number of times and always liked it, but this was our first time venturing to a different location.

We found the upper east side version more conveniently located for us, but also much less crowded and without a line to wait for a table at breakfast time. Another thing I didn't miss from the Central Park location was the strange behavior of the wait staff. At Central Park, from entering to being seated you get an appropriately French feel, usually with a sleekly dressed, attractive host with just the right dash of arrogance. Once seated, though, I was always strtuck by the odd and often unpredictable behavior of the waiters and waitresses. Perhaps they had a lot of turnover or else had a knack for picking out unusually absentminded applicants. I'm pretty sure we never had the same person twice. Whatever the reason, we had more than our share of incidents with staff forgetting things, abandoning us for long periods of time, wandering away in mid conversation when taking orders, etc. Not in a charmingly French way, either. If not for the fact that the food had always been really good, we wouldn't have gone back.

Thankfully things were different the upper east side location. It could be just that it's much less busy, but I don't think that's the only reason. There was an underlying impression of competence in the approach and behavior that is definitely missing from the Central Park place, something you don't really know you'll miss until it's gone.

My wife enjoyed her usual soft-boiled egg and bread, and I enjoyed the granola and yogurt parfait. Little J tried the coque suisse, which is like a French cinnamon roll. The only problem was that he wanted it without raisins, so I had to spend a few minutes trying to extract as many raisins as possible from it. The surface raisins were easy, but trying too hard to get those inside risked the structural integrity of the roll, threatening to leave a pile of crumbs. I managed to do a good enough job that J was content to eat it.

The only thing I don't like about the food is that hot drinks are served in cups without handles (some might call them bowls). There is actually a good reason for the handles; they tend to make it so that you don't burn your hands when holding the vessel full of near-boiling hot liquid. It's a small thing that I overlook, though, and we will certainly continue to be regular customers.

Legal's Test Kitchen at Logan

2007-09-28T22:05:00.000-04:00

Today my job took me took me on a one-day trip to Cambridge, Massachusetts. When I got to Logan airport in the evening for the flight home and made it through security to the departure gate, I took the breaking news that our flight was delayed over an hour due to JFK gate congestion as an opportunity to visit the Legal's Test Kitchen restaurant in terminal A.

We lived near Boston for a few years in the mid-1990s, but haven't been back since we moved away ten years ago. While living there we frequented Legal Seafoods in Burlington, but hadn't been to any of their other locations since. The chance to visit even a pared-down airport terminal version was enough to bring out a strong feeling of restaurant nostalgia (the best kind), so I took advantage of the schedule change to drop in

Naturally the menu at LTK was greatly simplified from what I remembered, but as expected they offered a couple varieties of chowder including traditional Boston clam, so I started with that. I realize it's a strange choice given the seafood theme, but I decided to pair it with a Cubano sandwich (ham, pulled pork, cheese and pickles). The chowder was the star of the meal, anyway, and I had a craving for their sweet potato fries.

The chowder course arrived and was exactly as I recalled, just the right consistency. I don't always like chowder, particularly the egregiously thick variety that evokes thoughts of wallpaper paste. Legal Seafoods always had the just the right texture, and I was glad to see they were able to duplicate it even here at the airport.

Just as I finished the chowder, there was an announcement on the public address system that my flight had been undelayed, and that the scheduled passengers needed to proceed immediately to the departure gate. This seemed pretty unusual to me and I was a bit concerned about the fate of my sandwich and fries, but moments after the announcement my waiter appeared and asked if I wanted the rest of my orde packed up to go. I said yes and he returned promptly with my check and the Cubano in a bag. Of course I'm sure it's not the first time he has encountered this situation, but nevertheless I appreciated the efficient handling and I was back at the gate in plenty of time for boardng.

It turned out that they atually just preferred to have us wait on the plane in case there was a break in traffic and we could leave early, so we ended up being delayed even longer than the original estimate. At least I was able to enjoy my dinner on the plane, though, and even in a plastic take-out container my sabndwich and fries were very good.

Angelo's on 2nd

2007-09-26T20:37:00.000-04:00

This evening was a comfort-food night, and so we enjoyed a relatively uneventful meal at Angelo's on 2nd Avenue. This place is very close to our apartment, and has developed into probably our most reliable dinner staple. Tonight we deviated from our usual selections, though, with me trying a mushroom and broccoli calzone and my wife trying pizza with sausage and onions (she usually sticks with the pasta).

This was a bit of a milestone for us, being the first time we have successfully ordered a half-plain, half-non-plain pizza to share with little J. When we have tried this in the past it has caused bitter confrontation due to the fact that no ingredient morsel is too small to ruin J's half of the pizza in the all-too-likely event one should stray over into his half. Thankfully tonight he was uncharacteristically forgiving, and was willing to overlook a couple of misplaced onions. We can only hope this trend will continue into the future.

Return to Kami Sushi Express

2007-09-25T22:02:00.000-04:00

This evening we were looking for someplace quick to stop for dinner, and we happened by Kami Sushi Express on 2nd Avenue. I had not been back to this establishment since the infamous iced tea episode, but I had enjoyed the food and figured my family would provide some cover, since I had gone there alone the first time.

They didn't seem to recognize me when we went in, even though our assigned waitress was clearly the same one I had before. Of course this time I knew enough to stick with the hot tea rather than iced. My wife ordered the same, and also ice water for the table.

When she brought out the drinks, the waitress delivered ice water to everyone but hot tea only to my wife. She asked innocently, "you wanted hot tea as well?" I'm pretty sure she was playing some kind of sinister psychological game, but decided to be low-key about it. "Yes, please," I responded.

The rest of the meal was pretty uneventful, so I'm not sure who ended up winning the contest of wills. I had the bento box dinner with avocado salad, harumaki, and beef negimaki. It was a really good combination; even better than the unagi I had tried before. My wife and little J were happy with the tempura platter they shared.

The staff including the waitress was all smiles when we left, but I think it's still possible that they are holding a grudge. We'll see what happens next time...

On a side note, I had noticed a week or so ago that there appeared to be a new awning out front, and it seems that the name of the place changed from Kama Sushi to Kami Sushi Express. Certainly the newer awning is an improvement; the old one was a bit crooked and a dirty yellow color (that is, a yellow color with a lot of layers of age and dirt). Definitely a big improvement. There doesn't seem to be any change in the menu or approach, though. Inside the place has always looked nicer; now there is not as much of a disparity.

Brunch by Central Park

2007-09-23T11:23:00.000-04:00

This morning we took some friends over to Sarabeth's Central Park South location. We had been there previously, but earlier in the morning when it was not at all crowded. This morning we had to wait for 20 minutes or so before being seated.

Service definitely suffered from the increased load. From the beginning, our waiter was standoffish at best. He appeared to use the minimum required number of syllables when communicating with us, and once he had taken our brunch order he disappeared, not returning until after specifically being summoned some time after the servers brought our order.

This brings me to the Bizarre Restaurant Incident^™ of the day. One of our guests had ordered a pumpkin muffin with her breakfast, but received instead an English muffin. The server did not linger when delivering the food, and was thus long gone by the time the problem was discovered. We then launched an effort to track down our waiter, which took ten minutes or so. In the intervening time, our guest started eating the top third of the pre-sliced English muffin, since it wasn't clear whether she would ever get a replacement and the level of service to that point had already led us to believe that we might not ever have a chance to exchange it.

When I was finally able to flag down the waiter, he tersely acknowledged the problem and left, only to return a few minutes later with a small side plate, onto which he then asked our guest to deposit the uneaten portion of the muffin. Although puzzled, she did as he asked, after which he whisked the two-thirds muffin away and after a couple minutes more at last returned with the correct pumpkin muffin. The whole thing probably took twenty minutes, from the initial delivery to final correction.

Now, I don't know how they run things over at Sarabeth's. I'm sure they have some sharp people in charge. Many different possibilities come to mind. Perhaps trust in the staff is low enough that a waiter is only authorized a replacement muffin after supplying the uneaten one? Or perhaps this ritual is meant as a preemptive measure so that patrons are on notice that in general complaints resulting in exchange of food items will be highly scrutinized? One can only speculate, but I would think at the very least that this was not the most efficient way to handle the situation, and certainly it left a negative impression in on the brunch experience overall.

Serendipity for Dinner

2007-09-22T18:57:00.000-04:00

We have some friends and family visiting from out of town, and so for dinner this evening we put our names in at Serendipity on 60th at about 3:45, after which we were lucky enough to be seated at around 5:15.

On the last visit I got the Catcher in the Rye sandwich; this time a burger. My rule from now on: stick with the sandwiches. Not that the burger was bad, although it was a bit overcooked. Just that the sandwiches are their strong point. The other couple of entrees we have tried (e.g. the Sheperd's Pie) have not been nearly as good. Of course that all pertains to the food items, which are obviously not the Serendipity specialty and are all there simply to give people some filler before jumping to to dessert.

On the dessert front, everyone agreed that the Humble Pie was without question the best dessert out of the ones we tried. My Forbidden Broadway Sundae was a close second, though. Next time I will be sure to try the Humble Pie in sundae form, which they also offer. Surely that would be the ultimate.

My only objection to Serendipity is the fact that they only give out a very limited number of reservations, particularly on weekends. We live close enough nearby that I can tell that on weekends there is always a big crowd outside their door, and the sidewalk outside on a Saturday or Sunday will be packed with people waiting to get in. If you enter during that time you are sure to here exclamations from some of the first-time visitors who haven't done any research beforehand when they are told it will be a two-hour wait.

My reaction on seeing all the people waiting is to wonder: who benefits from all these people wasting their time sitting outside on the sidewalk? Wouldn't it be better to allow more reservations if it would provide more predictability for both guests and the restaurant? How much is the ability to accept walk-ins really worth? I would argue that they don't really have the ability to accept walk-ins as it is, since "walk-in" in this case just means walking in and waiting a couple of hours.

Perhaps this would be the ideal place to experiment with a market-based menu pricing scheme, so that prices would dynamically adjust depending on the number of people waiting, and likewise decline when the restaurant has excess seating capacity.

Lunch at Woorijip

2007-09-22T14:22:00.000-04:00

I was out looking for Best Buy on 5th Avenue around lunchtime, and so I stopped by Woorijip on 32nd Street for a quick bite to eat. A colleague from work took me there a couple of weeks ago, and I have been meaning to return. Woorijip is a Korean cafe with hot and cold food bars to serve both takeout and eat-in customers.

A food bar always offers the chance to sample a variety of items, and everything I have tried at Woorijip has been excellent. And certainly you can't beat the price -- I got an entire tray of food for $7.95, for which I got to sample a lot of different selections.

10 Out of 10 for Style

2007-09-21T08:22:00.000-04:00

I left work somewhat late this past evening and had dinner with a colleague on Madison Avenue at a place called Meli Melo. In general the food I had there was enjoyable; however, I found that I was definitely in the minority as all the other diners around me were almost completely dissatisfied with theirs.

The cod was tasteless. The octopus was tough as shoe leather. The salmon appetizer tasted like an old box of Arm & Hammer. The Caesar salad tasted like it was dressed with Miracle Whip. This was the running commentary I heard throughout the meal. Okay, that last one was me, but really, it wasn't so bad and I liked everything else. Nevertheless, the complaints were numerous and freely expressed enough so that a discussion of the various grievances broke out between us and the party at an adjacent table.

After returning home, I did a little checking at the restaurant web site, and was surprised to see that it actually seemed to have a fair amount of acclaim and respect from press reports. The chef seemed to have pretty good credentials. I'm not sure whether our experience was typical, but it would certainly give the impression that they are in somewhat of a decline.

Most of the discussion revolved around dessert, which was impressively presented (looking at the web site press photos, I see that posing the dessert items as birds and animals is a standard approach here). A diner at another table insisted that her cannoli was frozen, and all agreed that there was a certain Sara-Lee quality to the desserts. They all looked very appetizing and were presented well, but the impression you got when eating them was that they were assembled out of off-the-shelf components. I didn't see any mention on their web site of a pastry chef, and certainly would not be surprised if there were not one in residence. On reflection, it seems like the primary focus at Meli Melo (and thus both its weakness and strength) is the presentation of the dishes. It's all about the superficial visual aesthetics, and not nearly enough about the taste of the food.

Dinner at Chola

2007-09-18T21:37:00.000-04:00

Tonight we met for dinner after work at Chola (on 58th near 3rd Avenue), an establishment that promises eclectic Indian dining.

We arrived at about 7:15, and found surprisingly brisk business for a Tuesday night. We were seated close to the center of the main dining area, and for about 15-20 minutes we watched a swirling vortex of servers and waiters swarm around us, always coming close but then veering away at the last second. I think the problem may have been our central location, at the bub of activity. It appeared that chances of catching a waiter were better at the edges of the room, where the motion slowed and the staff pooled a bit before getting caught up in the flow again. A quick read of the situation indicated that the servers were not authorized to take drink orders, and so we tried to hold on until we could catch the eye of a waiter. It took a while, but finally we managed to catch a waiter's attention and put in our combined order for drinks and dinner. This is our second time dining here, but since they have an extensive and varied menu getting the advice of the waiter seemed like the right thing to do. He recommended a couple of starters and main courses with accompaniments, and then disappeared in a swirl of servers.

We ordered two starters to share, which were brought out individually and with a complete change of plates and cutlery between. We assumed they had just forgotten about the second one, but it finally arrived about 15 minutes after we were finished with the first. When we finished the second, again the appetizer plates and utensils were taken away. Apparently Chola has no shortage of dish washers. While it wasn't the instant gratification we were hoping for from the starters, they were both very good. I didn't catch the names since I didn't actually order them from the menu, but one was some kind of crispy cauliflower in a sweet/sour sauce with cilantro (a kind of General Tso's Cauliflower, if you will, but not quite the same sauce and not breaded). The other was lamb chops with sauteed onions and lemon.

After that it was a long wait for the entrees. It probably seemed longer because of the marathon presentation of the starters, but even factoring in the psychological effect of the prior wait it seemed extremely long. When the first entree came out, a yogurt marinated chicken on a sizzling platter that was one of the chef's specials for the evening (no, it wasn't Tandoori chicken, I don't think), it was left to cool on the table while we sat without plates or silverware, much less the rest of our food. More alarming was the fact that the server who brought out the sizzling platter placed it on the edge of the table right next to our five-year-old son, seemingly oblivious to the notion that he wouldn't be the main consumer of the dish. This wouldn't be so remarkable if not for the fact that he actually put it as far away as it could be from the three adult diners at the table, and actual seemed to survey the table for a second before doing so, as if making a deliberate choice that little J was clearly the one who would benefit most from close proximity to the sizzling hot platter.

10 or 15 minutes later when the rest of our food came there was much relief all around, and the food was all very good like we remembered. In addition to the chicken we enjoy saag paneer and a variety of dal, as well as a complimentary side of some kind of cabbage dish that was turmeric-yellow.

Unfortunately, our memory of the long service will probably linger longer than that of the food, and I fear that we won't be returning until my wife has been able purge all memory of the evening.

Top Pot in Manhattan

2007-09-17T03:00:00.000-04:00

As I was leaving work early this morning, I caught a glimpse of an unusual sight through the glass doors of the Starbuck's that is located on the ground floor of my office building. It appears to be a stack of Top Pot donut boxes.

I thought I had noticed Top Pot donuts at this location on a previous occasion, and it was such a surprise that I immediately sent a message to my wife. For those that are not familiar, Top Pot is Seattle's most highly regarded donut establishment. They have couple of distinctive retail locations in additon to sales channels through local Starbuck's and grocery stores. As far as we knew, though, they were available only in Seattle. It appears that this is no longer the case. I am pretty sure this is a recent development (i.e. within the last couple of weeks), since I don't believe they had them when we first arrived in Manhattan. More research is needed, however.

Late Night at Caliente Cab

2007-09-14T23:59:00.000-04:00

This evening after work I joined a colleague for a late dinner in Murray Hill at Caliente Cab Co., a Mexican cafe and bar on 3rd Avenue. We were wandering through the area at around 11:00 or so, and this place seemed fairly busy with lots of diners even at that hour (always a good sign -- much better than the intriguing open-but-deserted Tibetan place we passed by in the previous block).

The specialty there seemed to be the enormous frozen drinks served in tall parfait glasses. Accouterments including skewers of various fruits and other garnishes provided additional flair. Margaritas dominated the selections of course, but they had other tropical standbys like coladas and daiquiris as well. All the bounty that could spring from a bar-grade slushie machine.

Speaking for myself, the tall fruity drinks (and indeed they were tall) seemed geared more toward the Venus than Mars, and so although it shows a lack of imagination I stuck with the Dos Equis. My friend on the other hand went all out with the Pina Colada, which was such a generous quantity that he was able to continue drinking it through the entire meal, appetizer, entree, and dessert.

For the appetizer we had the fried onion rings, although they were called "Caliemarie" on the menu and were a bit more rubbery than usual. Still, they were competently fried in a spicy batter that had the desired effect of rendering the batter's underlying adherent irrelevant.

The garden burritos I had were not bad, filled simply with cheese and a variety of steamed vegetables.

The most disappointing thing was the basket of corn chips and salsa. Perhaps I have just dined at too many good Mexican places lately, but after the chips I have enjoyed at Dos Caminos and Zarela, just to name a couple, the generic foodservice-grade chips seem stale and tasteless, and the thin watery salsa didn't help things any.

Moving Day v2

2007-09-14T09:00:00.000-04:00

This morning we enjoyed breakfast in the Club Room of the Affinia 50 hotel at 50th and 3rd Avenue. We were lucky enough to stay as guests of our moving company, in acknowledgement of their responsibility in the scheduling mishap that caused our scheduled household goods delivery to be delayed until today.

Luckily even with the complications of the long holiday weekend we were able to get everything cleared with our new building, so with luck we will have better luck today than yesterday.

The breakfast offering at the Affinia was a reasonable continental buffet, with assorted fresh fruit arranged in bowls large and small, and even some arranged on wooden skewers. There was an array of miniature pastries including little donuts, tiny croissants, and an variety of small muffins. English muffins on the other hand were conventionally sized.

Of course there were also cereals, toast, and yogurt, and even a container of hard-boiled eggs. Beverages included coffee, tea, juices, and milk.

The Club Room was set up to simulate a series of living-room-type seating areas, with lots of big padded chairs, sofas, and various side, coffeee, and end tables. Not very efficient on space, but luckily it wasn't very crowded this morning.

Moving Day

2007-09-13T07:51:00.000-04:00

Today is moving day, so before going over to meet the movers at our new place we visited Morning Star Cafe on 2nd Avenue to make sure we have enough energy to last through all the stress of moving. We have been to several of these diner-type places since moving here, and this one is fairly typical, with a wide-ranging menu of diverse options that make it hard to believe that a single kitchen can possibly turn out an edible version of all the various choices. Breakfast is pretty straightforward, though, and that's when we usually end up at this kind of establishment.

One thing that impressed me here was the quality of the fruit salad they offer for breakfast. Usually what I get is a fairly unremarkable medley of melon (cantaloupe + honeydew), a couple of grapes, perhaps some pineapple, and then possibly a small quantity of more "premium" items like berries of some kind. I get the feeling that a large container of this preparation is made up and the beginning of the week from which individual portions are doled out (no pun intended) in ever lessening condition of quality until the beginning of the week rolls around again.

At Morning Star, though, the fruit salad seemed freshly made, at the very least this morning. And far from the usually heavy reliance on melon, this one was largely composed of nectarine and kiwi. There were also the usual suspects melon, pineapple, and grapes but combination and ratio was distinctive enough that I will remember it and return just on that basis. Little J rated their Belgian waffle with a thumbs up, and that will be the key recommendation allowing us to return as a family.

Woolworth Center

2007-09-12T19:03:00.000-04:00

This afternoon was the long-awaited closing on our midtown condo purchase, which took place at our attorney's office in the Woolworth Center. The experience of purchasing real estate in New York has made similar transactions in Seattle and elsewhere seem like they have all the formality and structure of buying a set of hubcaps at a roadside flea market.

The experience we are used to is that the closing is a non-event. Usually we would go to the closing ourselves and meet with a bank representative whose only responsibility is to make sure that we sign all the documents in the right places.

Not so here. At this closing, all parties were actually present in the same room, including attorney and broker for both buyer and seller, as well as the bank representatives. As is apparently the custom, we all sat around a large table in a configuration that had us and our attorney on one side, the seller and their attorney (our "adversaries") on the opposite, and the neutral bank and real estate transfer representatives on either end. Makes sense for an important witness deposition in a product liability case, but it's the first time we have experienced it when purchasing a home.

Even more significant was the fact that they all seemed actually to be working out the final details of the agreement and monetary transfers, as opposed to witnessing a mere formality. Of course there was the usual marathon signing of documents, but at the same time that was going on there was simultaneous negotiation of important final terms and resolution of loose ends. I definitely had a stronger feeling than ever before that everyone was earning their respective commissions and fees.

Certainly the fact that the process here relies heavily on attorneys rather than solely on real estate brokers as is mostly the case elsewhere seems to make a difference. The lawyers add a dose of gravity and attention to detail combined with a deliberate approach that must be related to the fact that they don't receive a percentage-based commission (sorry, real estate brokers, you know it's true) that change the character of the whole operation.

In any case, after a long afternoon of alternating furious activity and waiting for reports of wire transfers, we were at last successful in getting the keys to our new place.

CPK Redux

2007-09-11T20:58:00.000-04:00

This evening we found out that there was a hiccup in our pending real estate purchase, and so we had to pick a quick place to meet and talk. Since I was coming from work, for the sake of expediency we found ourselves at California Pizza Kitchen for the second night in a row. Tonight it served as our informal war room, from which my wife was placing and receiving calls furiously throughout dinner. I believe we all enjoyed the same entrees we had the night before, so truly it was an opportunity to compare and contrast service and food preparation on a very detailed level. All things considered, I would rate Tuesday night CPK better than Monday night CPK. The food preparation was nearly indistinguishable between the two, but the service was definitely better during the Tuesday version. Almost certainly this was due to Monday's inexperienced waiter as opposed to Tuesday's veteran.

Grand Central

2007-09-10T20:12:00.000-04:00

After finishing our pizza we decided to walk the 20 or so blocks home rather than take the subway. On the way we stopped at Grand Central Station to see if there were any stores still open at 8:15. Banana Republic is our CPK of clothing, so for the moment it is still hard to resist the temptation to go in whenever we pass by one, which in Manhattan seems to be about every six blocks.

The Usual Pizza

2007-09-10T20:00:00.000-04:00

We met after work at the California Pizza Kitchen near my office. This is nothing remarkable; in fact I have a feeling tha this pattern will be repeated many times over the coming months and years. Despite the fact that CPK was such a staple of our diet in Seattle, even after finding that there were locations close to both my new office and home I figured that New York has so many great pizza options that we would never want to go there. Alas, the tastes of a five-year-old are not easily changed, and the allure of the Hawaiian pizza too powerful.

On a follow-up note from a previous post, tonight when we ordered the waiter asked explicitly whether we wanted Canadian bacon or pepperoni on the Hawaiian pizza. The waiter was obviously new, so I have to assume that the difficulty we experienced last week was enough to motivate a change in policy and training.

Chaos at Whole Foods

2007-09-09T20:07:00.000-04:00

We found out when we got to Whole Foods Market at Columbus Circle that this wasn't going to be the tranquil, relaxing Sunday evening shopping experience that we were used to in Redmond. I have been to this location a couple of times before, but apparently not when all of Manhattan is trying to pick up a bite to take home for dinner at the same time they pick up their cookie and snack provisions for the week. It was quite a scene, with the express line snaking all around the store in such a circuitous fashion that they assigned a dedicated employee to hold up a sign and mark the end of the line.

Luckily we were able to pick out the items we needed fairly quickly (mostly items to pack in J's lunch for the week). After all of the jostling in the aisles, we were relieved to see that the checkout lines were remarkably efficient, and we were through to the outside in no time.

Dinner at Time Warner Center

2007-09-09T19:22:00.000-04:00

Finding ourselves in need of some groceries to last us through the week, we decided that none of the grocers in our neghborhood charged enough, and therefore set out for the Whole Foods Market in the Time Warner Center. Since we hadn't eaten yet and were all a bit hungry after a long day, we decided to give Landmarc a try (they always say that you shouldn't shop for groceries on an empty stomach).

The lowlight of the meal was apparently the bread, which my wife pronounced to be The Worst Bread Ever. I thought this was an unnecessarily harsh judgement, especially since I actually liked the bread. Particularly the crust, which I found to be pleasantly chewy but my wife described as "flavorless except for the disgusting burnt taste." Ah well, we agreed to disagree.

Other than that the meal was uneventful, except for the fact that little J was thrilled with the cotton candy they offered for dessert. In addition, he really liked the restrooms, which were semi-concealed by a cylindrical antechamber.

Based on J's judgement we might return, but it will take some convincing for my wife.

Rug Shopping

2007-09-09T14:20:00.000-04:00

This afternoon's challenge was to see if we could acquire some rugs for the condo we are moving into, ideally to have in place before our furniture arrives next week. We chose to start with ABC Carpet & Home on Broadway, for which my wife had seen some online recommendations.

Indeed they had an impressive selection, although I don't envy the guys whose job it is to keep flipping through the massive piles of 10x14 rugs at the whim of casual shoppers.

We wound up puttiing one large rug on hold, but also found a nice bargain hallway runner in the downstairs remnant area that we took home with us.

Lunchtime on Sunday

2007-09-09T12:31:00.000-04:00

Walking around looking for furnishings, we stopped in a Zaro's bakery on Broadway. J was coaxed into a toasted cheese sandwich, which I have to admit didn't look that appetizing; they had them pre-made in the deli case and toasted one for us after we ordered. Unfortunately the toasting they gave it was only enough to make the cheese slimy, with not even a hint of browning on the bread. J didn't seem to mind, though. The bread they made it on was pretty soft and squishy, which made it more kid-friendly than the crusty bread he usually gets.

Breakfast at Barney Greengrass

2007-09-09T08:54:00.000-04:00

This morning for breakfast we headed out pretty early to go to Barney Greengrass on the west side. I have been there once before, but this is my first time with the famliy. We arrived at about 8:30AM and already the small dining room was almost full; we got the last table that would hold more than two. It was good that we didn't wait until later; clearly it was only getting busier.

While little J had to forego his usual bacon strips for Sunday brunch, he really liked the scrambled eggs and ate them enthusiastically. Of course, it probably helped that we had ordered a small black-and-white cookie to dangle in front of him until he did.

Dinner at Zarela

2007-09-08T18:21:00.000-04:00

After the theater we were all feeling very hungry, and so after taking the subway back to our neighborhood we stopped by Zarela for an early dinner. While not as good a deal as the Sunday night prix fixe, the food was excellent. J even tried the Cochinita Chiapaneca (pork shoulder) that I ordered, which made the dinner a success. The homemade tortillas were also very good, and matched well with the pork. Next time we will return on a Sunday.

Stomp

2007-09-08T16:50:00.000-04:00

My wife has been wanting to see some kind of show here since she first came with me for her first visit to the city a few months ago. In fact, it had grown to be a bit of a sore point due to the fact that during that and subsequent visits we had not yet managed to squeeze it in. It's not that I was lacking in motivation; I am as up for a trip to the theater as the next guy, even more so. I can probably appreciate the craft more than most -- I played Motel the Tailor in my high school production of Fiddler on the Roof, after all. And yet, I think somehow she still thought that I was trying to evade any chance of catching a performance, when in reality it was simply a matter of limited time and so many things to do.

Nevertheless, in the lull of activity between our arrival and the chore of moving into our permanent residence, this weekend seemed like a good opportunity finally to take in some theatrical entertainment. The planning was slightly more complicated at this point, since we now had also the tastes of a five-year-old to satisfy with our choice of stage fare, but we thought we could find something. We were originally thinking about Mary Poppins, but after a quick check I found that it was long, even for a musical -- over three hours. That would test even my attention span, so we looked for something else.

Little J has a fondness for catchy rhythms, and so we quickly converged on Stomp. Not too long, and it appeared to promise enough movement and action to keep him interested. After a fairly brief trip through the TKTS line, we had tickets in hand for 3:00PM in the afternoon.

The performance was at the Orpheum Theater. Little J loved it; he was on the edge of his seat the whole time and really got into all the clapping.

Breakfast by the Park

2007-09-08T10:24:00.000-04:00

This morning we went over to Central Park and ate breakfast at Sarabeth's. We had tried a quick breakfast at Sarabeth's bakery in the Old Chelsea Market building on a visit to Manhattan a couple months previously, and at the time we were impressed by the height if their English muffins. We were hoping to get similar muffins at this location, and on the way there we were selling the virtues of these muffins to little J in order to convince him that this would be a better choice than Dean & Deluca in Rockefeller Plaza, where he has previously enjoyed the Donut Plant donuts. Luckily we were not disappointed, and J enjoyed the muffin basket (including very tall English muffin) along with a side of bacon.

Pescatore Sans Bib

2007-09-07T21:09:00.001-04:00

Despite the holiday on Monday, it's been a long week for all of us, not the least of which is due to the fact that if was the first week of kindergarten. For dinner tonight we stayed close to home, which in this case was Pescatore on 2nd Avenue. We had been here once before and liked it, so we were pretty sure it would be a safe bet again.

We had no problem walking in and getting a table at 7:00 on a Friday night. It seems to me that peak traffic in this neighborhood is on Thursday nights, and the rest of the weekend including Friday through Sunday is less crowded. This seems counter-intuitive to me, but that's been our experience so far. Apparently after Thursday everyone gets out of the city (or at least this particular neighborhood; it still seems plenty crowded in Times Square).

Like many of the restaurants here, during the warm weather months there is an outdoor seating area that affords the opportunity to peruse the board of fare while walking past, and previously I had spotted an appetizing combination seafood linguine. On a prior visit here we had tried other things, but tonight I was interested in finally giving that combination a try.

To start with they bring out out a little dish of assorted olives marinating in oil with Italian herbs. This is accompanied by Italian bread, which instead of being served family style in a basket for the table is distributed individually to each diner, providing a choice of white or whole-grain. I actually prefer this approach; not only does it obviate contemplating the fate of uneaten bread left in baskets at the table (which inescapably introduces a compelling temptation to the restaurant to correct for a significant margin of error between portion served versus eaten), it also provides the opportunity for a bit of additional elegance to the meal as the servers come around periodically to offer more. Surely this duty is preferable to being limited just to refilling the water glasses. As if all this weren't enough, it tends to throttle the rate of gratuitous carbohydrate consumption, serving the mutual interests of the diners caloric intake and the restaurant's bottom line. In short, I am on board with individual bread servings. But I digress.

Like many Manhattan restaurants we have tried there is no explicit kids' menu here, but the waiter was very accomodating in allowing us to choose a favorite pasta shape (linguine in this case) and combining it with a sauce in a half-order size for little J.

When the Linguine Pescatore for Two arrived, it was much larger than I remember seeing from passing by on the sidewalk; an enormous vat filled to the top with linguine (obviously), a light tomato sauce, and also a variety of seafood including half a lobster, clams, mussels, calamari rings, and small scallops. With it the waiter brought out a bowl for the shells, a shellfish cracker, and also two plastic bibs.

Now, I have to admit that the practice of issuing bibs is a sensitive point with me at restaurants. To begin with, I am sure the root problem lies with my insecurity and the fact that I am uncomfortable with the mental picture of myself sitting down to a huge vat of seafood wearing a conspicuous plastic bib with a bright red lobster on the front. After all, didn't Emily Post say that the first rule of etiquette is not to draw undue attention to onesself? In turn this feeds the feelings I have about how it seems the waiters are always just a bit too pushy in encouraging me to put on the bib. I always feel a bit insulted, as if they are suggesting that after decades of feeding myself I still haven't mastered the art of getting food from plate to mouth without splattering it all over myself. I always try to decline with just the right combination of light humor braced with underlying edge so that it is clear that it's not a big deal, but that they shouldn't pursue the subject unless they want to risk an unpleasant confrontation.

That was my approach tonight, and the waiter was content to leave the bibs at the table with us. The relevance of all this is that the Linguine Pescatore was the messiest meal I have ever eaten, even taking into account a long history that includes Cincinnati Chili, Lobster bakes, and chicken wings. By the end of the meal after wrangling sauce-covered mussels, lobster, and clams from their shells, my shirt was covered with orange spatters and I was feeling a bit silly about the bib sitting unused on the table next to the shell-bowl. I'm sure the waiter got quite a chuckle out of that as he brought out the check.

Of course, I wouldn't do anything differently the next time. It's still a lot easier to buy or clean my shirts than to undertake analysis of deep-seated self-confidence issues.

Madison Park at Lunchtime

2007-09-06T13:15:00.000-04:00

After the kitchen store I decided to take a stroll past Madison Park on the way back to the office from lunch. The park is only a couple of blocks away, but this is the first time I have walked through it. In addition to the impressive chrome tree sculpture, the had a jumbo TV screen set up for the purpose of watching live US Open action.

Kitchen Supplies

2007-09-06T13:10:00.000-04:00

The company I work for has an admirable goal of reducing waste by eliminating the use of disposable cups and cutlery, and therefore has requested that employees supply their own. Since starting work there I have not yet had a chance to acquire the appropriate items, so today at lunch I header out to The Haas Company on West 25th, which sells kitchen supplies. While there I purchased a giant green mug that doubles as a bowl, and also a paring knife with sheath. Both are key items for my morning breakfast return, which involves cutting up fruit and combining with yogurt.

Delayed Train

2007-09-06T08:14:00.000-04:00

This morning when I got to the subway station on may way to work, the train was waiting at the platform with the doors open. As I got on, I heard an announcement over the loudspeaker that the train was delayed due to traffic on the tracks ahead.

The most significant thing about this event was that, unlike every other announcement I have ever heard in the subway, I was actually able to decipher the message. Ordinarily these announcements are so distorted that I assumed their only use was as a source of comic amusement to the train operators as they watch confused travelers trying to figure out what they might mean, full of anxiety that the missing puzzle piece in their travel confusion might be forever lost.

But not today. Today the message was clear, and I was surprised that everyone was waiting so calmly and quietly when I got on board, as if somewhere nearby a hall monitor were watching. Their apparent patience was impressive. Lucky for me, the doors closed and we were on our way immediately after I got on board.

Memories of Seattle at CPK

2007-09-05T20:50:00.000-04:00

Tonight we indulged in a bit of west coast nostalgia by meeting at California Pizza Kitchen in the evening after I finished work. CPK was definitely a staple of our diet in Seattle, primarily because it was one of the few places where little J could be counted on to eat his dinner without reservation or complaint. In particular, he is a fan of the kids' Hawaiian pizza, going so far as to vow on many occasions his intention never to order anything but that. Despite our concerns that Canadian bacon and pineapple are not necessarily the most healthful items, at the very least we could be guaranteed that he would eat something there that would provide some minimal level of nutrition.

Despite the name, for us CPK has a strong association with Seattle. Certainly they have locations all over by now, but our first dining experience there was in Seattle, and after frequenting it there so often while we lived there it's natural to think of it as a culinary welcome center where we can stop by and remember familiar times.

Unfortunately, this particular evening the kids' Hawaiian they brought to the table was made with pepperoni rather than Canadian bacon, and CPK Hawaiian connoisseur that he is, there was no way little J was going to let that slide. The waitress admitted that it had been made incorrectly and graciously offered to bring out a new one (which J was happy to take her up on despite the additional wait), but it was a blemish on what would otherwise have been a happy reunion.

While I have tried many of their menu items over the past few years, of late I have fallen into a bit of a rut with my favorite California Club pizza. I like the fact that it's both a pizza and a salad, combining starter and main course into one. In a way I suppose I am just following J's lead since I have ordered nothing but this particular pizza on all or visits there going back at least a year (I'm embarrassed to say home many trips we have made to CPK during that time).

Celebrating at Serendipity

2007-09-04T21:01:00.000-04:00

Today was little J's first day of school, and in advance of this occasion I had the forethought to make reservations to celebrate his anticipated survival with dinner at Serendipity 3. We first heard about S3 from Miffy Loves New York City, a fine children's book about New York City given to us by a friend to help prepare for the move. I don't know whether it was a paid product placement or not, but it was certainly effective in creating advance buzz about the place for us. We had tried to go there during an earlier visit but found the two-hour-plus wait too much and we weren't willing to return after midnight.

This time I prepared better, though, and had been alloted one of their apparently scarce reservations a couple weeks previously.

The book highlights the signature frozen hot chocolate, and so of course we had to open with that. As expected for an ice cream parlor, the food is more about novelty and quantity than taste or sophistication. That being the case, my Catcher-in-the-Rye BLT was better than I expected, but the best I can say about the other dishes at the table was that there was no questioning their generosity with melted cheese. Still, dinner was just a formality to be endured in preparation for dessert, and we thoroughly enjoyed the Banana Split (although we opted for the merely enormous Coward's Portion).

Strolling in Sutton Place

2007-09-03T19:15:00.000-04:00

After dinner it seemed like a good opportunity for an evening stroll, so we walked down to Sutton Place Park by the river. It's a tiny triangle of a park, but there's a nice view of the water. We're still trying to figure out how to get down to the sidewalk path that is across the highway along the river.

End of the Summer at Angelo's

2007-09-03T19:01:00.000-04:00

This evening we went out for pizza as a last fling before school starts tomorrow. We're now well acquainted with Angelo's, which offers coal-fired oven pizza and pasta. It's very convenient and looks like it will be a reliable staple of of our pizza repertoire. A favorite of ours since our first visit has been the mozzarella cheese pizza, which is simple but always very pleasing, with fresh basil leaves scattered on top and thin crust just as I prefer.

On tonight's version, though, the basil was nowhere to be found. It was still good, but I am a big fan of the fresh basil. On the other hand, little J (with whom I usually share the pizza) always has to pick off the basil leaves, and so he enjoyed it more than usual. I don't know whether they just forgot or if basil was scarce over the long holiday weekend. Hopefully this is not some consequence of the end of the domestic basil growing season, which I think is limited to the hot weather months. I'm all for sourcing food locally, but where my thin-crust pizza is concerned I have no qualms about flying fresh basil in from whatever far corner of the earth happens to be in the midst of basil season. After all, I gave up my car to move to New York so I figure I am within my carbon budget to indulge in year-round fresh basil.

School Shopping

2007-09-03T12:03:00.000-04:00

After our filling breakfast at Les Halles, we headed over the the nearby Macy's (the "Biggest Store in the World") to do a little school-clothes-shopping for J. One might ask, "Can a store be too big?" I know now that the answer is, "Absolutely, see e.g. Macy's." This mammoth place encloses all the confusion and overcrowding of a busy suburban shopping mall packed into single store with really old wooden escalators and a floor plan that would confuse a minotaur. Not my favorite Manhattan shopping experience. I'll grant them the big part, though.

So, after fleeing the overwhelming Macy's we headed down to SOHO to pay our respects at my wife's favorite shopping Mecca, J. Crew. The SOHO location has a Crew Cuts section, which is the only bricks-and-mortar retail location we know of. In addition, the trip to SOHO offered the chance to visit Dean & Deluca, but we were disappointed to see that they were not carrying Crumbs cupcakes any longer (at least not today). We had fond memories of a pistachio variety from a previous visit a couple of months earlier.

Labor Day Breakfast

2007-09-03T10:04:00.000-04:00

This morning we debated whether to go to a diner near our apartment or else venture farther afield for Labor Day breakfast. After some lengthy deliberation and negotiation (surely more than was called for on the simple topic of where to eat breakfast — luckily Michael Pollan came along and clearly identified this for us as a unique feature of the human condition, if not a pathological defect), we decided to hop into a cab for a quick ride over to Les Halles. We seem to be on the verge of becoming regulars there at this point, but this is the first we've been for breakfast.

This being a holiday, we went all out and splurged on Eggs Benedict and Steak and Eggs. Very satisfying, but of course after eating I was quickly reminded why we don't eat like this every day, as my heart strained to pump the cholesterol through my system.

Vegan for Dinner

2007-09-02T20:11:00.000-04:00

This evening we headed out for dinner to Candle Cafe on 3rd Avenue at 75th that serves interesting organic, vegetarian and vegan cuisine. One of the things that attracted us to it was the interesting array of fruit/vegetable/herbal "cocktails" (I use quotes since there is no alchohol) and smoothies. They even had a drink section labeled Farmacy, for the contents' supposed medicinal properties.

I selected the presumed house specialty Candle Cocktail, a combination of beets, greens, carrots, orange, ginger, and probably some other things. I have been a big fan of beets lately (hmm, that's not a phrase I could have ever imagined myself putting down in print), and so that was the clear choice. It was very good, sweet from the beets and carrots with some spice from the ginger.

The food was excellent, including a very filling casserole with layers of sweet potato, black beans, millet, and sauteed greens. While millet may conjure up images of starlings and bluejays (at least it does for me), it was a very good basis for the hearty casserole. It even had a side of faux-gravy, which although not a substitute for the real thing had a pleasant poultry spice flavor that brought Thanksgiving to mind.

Amusingly given it's vegan credentials, Candle Cafe is situated right next to Le Steak Cafe, so patrons have a chance to make a last second decision to go for fauna over flora. No word on whether groups of mixed dining preference can sit together in one and also order in from the other.

Scooter Search

2007-09-02T14:50:00.000-04:00

This afternoon we went out to do a bit of shopping, including looking for a razor scooter for J. Being new in town, the only toy stores I know of are FAO Schwarz and the Toys 'R' Us at Times Square. We chose FAO because of its proximity to Central Park, but much to my surprise there were none to be found, so we had to make the trip down to Times Square.

It was pretty crowded at both locations of course, this being Saturday of a holiday weekend, but by far 5th Avenue is the better shopping ambiance. For that reason in additon to my fondness to the giant piano scene in Big, I was saddened to see that clearly FAO has ceded the authority in toys to the much less storied Toys 'R' Us.

Sunday Market

2007-09-02T11:07:00.000-04:00

We took a bit of a stroll around an outdoor market after we fished eating at Isabella's...

Brunch at Isabella's

2007-09-02T11:01:00.000-04:00

This morning we went to brunch at Isabella's, over on the upper west side at 77th and Columbus Avenue. I went there last weekend with a friend and it was pretty good, so it seemed like a good place to try on the first Sunday brunch after my wife and son returned for good.

One interesting note: a highlight from last weekend's visit was the complimentary drink included with brunch, which in my case was the first Bloody Mary I have tried, based on the recommendation of my friend. It was very good, nice and peppery. I was looking forward to trying this again today, but alas we arrived before noon and they weren't serving alchoholic drinks until then.

I had forgotten about the quaint liquor laws they have in other parts of the country since moving to the west coast. It really does seem like a relic of prohibition.

Fig & Olive Comics

2007-08-31T16:02:00.001-04:00

This evening after work a friend and I headed out to the meatpacking district to eat dinner at Fig & Olive. I had tried the uptown location once before, and found the experience to be fairly pleasant, but nothing too spectacular. Above all, I remember leaving the place thinking that despite the name, I had not really gotten much in the way of either figs or olives during the course of the dinner. Perhaps my fault for not ordering more carefully, but I left feeling slightly disappointed nonetheless.

I had made reservations beforehand (OpenTable) — I highly recommend it, and no they don't pay me), but when we arrived there was a bit of confusion because apparently I had accidentally booked for the following night. The hostess was very accomodating despite the fact that it was somewhat busy, and I was impressed that they seated us right away anyway.
On a side note, I was just telling my friend about how, as a recent new MacBook user (switching from PC laptop), I was impressed by the array of miscellaneous applications one has available out of the box with OS-X. In particular, I mentioned Comic Life, which I had played with for a few minutes the previous day. So, I decided to throw together a few camera phone pictures with it for this entry.

To continue, I was determined this time to get may fair share of figs and olives, and so I ordered more carefully. I started right off ordering a Niçoise olive martini, but received instead the Arbequina martini. Not a big deal; I am not a picky olive eater, and so a little unpredictability in the order process was not entirely unwelcome. It was definitely the most strongly olive-flavored martini I have ever had, so we were off to a good start. We quickly followed with an appetizer assortment of mixed olives and a Fig & Olive Salad, which containes - you guessed it- both figs and more olives. By the time we finished those items, I felt like I had easily gotten my fair share of both for the evening, particularly after dipping everything in the three varieties of olive oil they provided for the table.

A note about the decor at the meatpacking location. This one is a completely different experience from the uptown one. Unquestionably the more trendy area calls for more attention to the hip-ness of the decor, but still I was impressed by the large open spaces and gleaming walls and shelves filled with all manner of olive-related oils and paraphernalia.

Dinner at The Plaza

2007-08-26T22:54:00.001-04:00

This evening after watching a movie with a friend (Fracture, in which Anthony Hopkins pockets a quick paycheck by dusting off his cheerfully cold, homicidal sociopath persona from the Lecter trilogy et al.), I was looking for a quick bite to eat on the way home, and so I happened into the Plaza Diner.

I have passed this place a number of times over the past several days, and from my casual observation it appears that they typically have more of a crowd than other diners of the same type in the area, and so I had made a mental note to give it a try. Tonight seemed like a good night, and after perusing the specials and getting a recommendation from the waiter I changed plans and decided on the roast chicken weekend special. Choice of soup or salad came with the special, and I also got to choose a type of potato and vegetable from reasonable extensive list (broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, squash, zucchini and maybe a couple of others).

I opted for the Manhattan clam chowder to start. To me clam chowder has always meant the cream-based variety, but since I am now living in Manhattan it occurs to me that I might as well get with the chowder program and try the red stuff. The version here at Plaza reminded me more of vegetable soup, with a fairly meager sprinkling of clams, but given my expectations were not high I found it satisfactory.

When the waiter brought out my entree, I was quite surprised by the size of the portions -- definitely equivalent to what I think of as the epitome of oversized portions on the west coast, Claim Jumper.

I was pretty hungry by this point, though, so I worked my way through pretty much the whole thing. Definitely blue-plate fare, but not only was it significantly cheaper than Claim Jumper ($12.95 for the special), but tasted better as well. The chicken was actually roasted quite well, and the accompanying broccoli and potato were not the limp gray and mealy fare one might expect. All said, it was a satisfying meal, and isn't that the point of a diner?

Street Fair Part II

2007-08-26T22:03:00.000-04:00

After the usual morning routine, I headed out to meet a friend for bunch, and when passing by Lexington Avenue I came across another street fair. As I discussed in excruciating detail in a previous post, I have seen this phenomenon previously, but after checking into the official street fair schedule it appeared that this wasn't going to happen again on Lexington for the rest of the summer. After checking into it this time when I returned home, I could find no reason why there was a repeat showing today. Apparently this was just some future echo of last weekend's fair, brought on by a collective desire to preserve the spirit of all the fun and merriment that all enjoyed.

While strolling through I happened to pass by a rug merchant, and it crossed my mind that being in the process of moving into a yet-to-be-furnished apartment, we were going to be in need of a number of rugs, and this might be a good opportunity to find a solution. I was in somewhat of a hurry so I didn't stop today, but I figure at this point that they do this on Lexington pretty much every weekend, so maybe I will catch up the rug peddler next week. I'm sure I could arrange for some kind of package deal to cover every room in our apartment, although I'm not sure my negotiating skills are given that the rug trade and those that practice it practically invented and have practiced haggling for centuries.

When discussing this with a friend a bit later he mentioned that in many buildings in Manhattan there are explicit rules and requirements for covering a certain percentage of the floors with rugs (80% in his case). As I am still becoming acclimated to the customs and standards of living here, I am continuously amazed by what people have to go through to live in a Manhattan apartment. I don't think I have heard of any requirements like this at our building, but then again there was a large covenant I vaguely recall us having to acknowledge at some point in the purchase process. It's not that I object to the rules; I can understand the noise control angle, and I would be in favor anyway in the interest of protecting the finish on the wood floors. But even reasonable measures can seem onerous when they make the jump from recommended to mandatory.

Taksim is Tasty

2007-08-25T02:59:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-24T23:00:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-22T02:00:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-20T20:22:00.002-04:00

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

2007-08-19T21:06:00.000-04:00

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

2007-08-19T20:05:00.001-04:00

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?

2007-08-19T11:11:00.000-04:00

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.