After a disappointing burger at Back Forty, I wondered if maybe a non-fancy place, one that doesn’t give a damn about fresh greenery or artisanal cheese, would pour more love into its beef patties. I turned to the crowd-wisdom of Yelp.com to help me find a solid East Village burger joint and the reviews of Royale sounded promising. Located on Avenue C, on a stretch once out of the stumbling powers of weekend warriors who come to party but that is now dotted with cute nightspots, Royale has an understated appeal. Inside there’s a bar, baseball on TV, classic rock pumping out of a Wurltizer, and beer in cans on the menu. While ordering a Bacon Royale ($7), can of pork slap ($4) and basket onion rings ($4) I had a good feeling, but I might have been under the sway of Journey on the jukebox. (more…)
Update: Back Forty has closed, but a Soho location remains open.
I wanted to like Back Forty. I’m all for elevated gastropub fare and Greenmarket ingredients, and I even like the rusticated interior design that’s in vogue these days. And my meal did have its moments. An impeccably-sugared mint julep ($10), mixed with Ezra Brooks bourbon and muddled mint arrived in a de rigueur frosted silver cup, cooling under a mound of snowconeish ice particles. The golden beet and chevre salad ($10) seemed aimed to make you marvel over the perfection of each green, balsamic-coated arugula leaf. Spicy homemade ketchup, with a rich undercurrent of molasses, kicked up the interest factor on some otherwise so-so rosemary fries. (more…)
Reputed to be one of the best Thai restaurants in the city, Sripraphai sits on an unassuming block in Woodside, Queens, almost in earshot of the rumbling elevated 7 train. Since a renovation a few years ago, this spot is less of a hole-in-the-wall, and more of a modern sanctum for serious lovers of Thai cuisine. I hoped it would be worth the schlep.
After a perusal of the overwhelming 12-page menu, dishes began arriving at a brisk clip. One standout was the crispy watercress salad–tempura-coated greens covering tangy bits of chicken, squid, and shrimp ($9.50), with a side of coconut rice ($2.00). (more…)
Wagashi, sweet pastries artfully shaped like fruit, birds, and flowers, have been traditional tea ceremony snacks in Japan for centuries, but they’re rarely seen in the states. Except for one corner of Midtown, at Minamoto Kitchoan, where wagashi are sold from elegant, spot-lit cases, almost like baubles from a jewelry store.
Enjoyment of most wagashi hinges on one’s opinion of the mochi (rice paste), sweet red-bean paste, and jellied fruits. I’ve found bean paste snacks to be a little bit of an acquired taste, but if you like treats that are sweet and potato-textured you’re in luck. When in doubt, information is meticulously displayed on the oft-impenetrable plastic packaging. (more…)
It’s St. Patrick’s Day, so you know every Irish pub in this town will be packed to the gills with bellowing guys in green plastic tophats. Probably a good night to carefully seek out a low-key setting. Scratcher, located just below street-level and lacking a sign denoting Irishness (look for an X scrawled between a pair of eyes), flies well under the radar. Candlelight, brick walls, hard, mismatched chairs, $6 pints and Jameson, ($4 during happy hour from 4-8pm), and maaaybe a U2 marathon swirling on the ipod all make for a fine St. Paddy’s day in my book. Scratcher, which is Dublinese for “bed,” can get a bit boisterous later in the evening, but remains relatively goon-free.
209 E. 5th St., between Bowery and Second Avenue
Update: Bouchon Bakery now has a location in Rockefeller Center
Macarons are not macaroons. Those dense, coconut-cluster snacks have nothing on these French confections. One bite reveals the layers–a light whipped cream, sandwiched between two puffed pastries, whose sugary shells cracks and melts meringue-like on your tongue, while inside remains moist and chewy. Macarons come in an endless variety of pastel shades and flavors, from always-popular fruit like strawberry and key lime, to hazelnut, caramel, and chocolate.
A fail-safe spot to procure my favorite treats is Bouchon Bakery in the Time Warner Center. Bouchon feels like a secret, since it’s situated up two escalators in the middle of an upscale mall. (more…)
Update: Crif Dogs now has a location in Williamsburg, on Driggs Ave
After a long night of bar-hopping, one bite of Crif Dog’s “chihuahua,” a smoked, deep-fried hot dog wrapped in bacon and topped with avocado and sour cream, practically made my face explode with happiness. A below-street-level dude’s hangout replete with 80s arcade games Millipede and Spy Hunter, sports on TV, and the smell of waffle fries lingering on the air, Crif Dogs is just the late-night spot to hit up when a dog smothered with fried egg and cheese is the best idea you’ve ever heard of. Just be sure to try a one that’s spiraled in bacon, which adds a crisp, salty kick to whatever creative combination of toppings you can dream up. If you’re used to Gray’s Papaya prices, be prepared for sticker shock, as these dogs range from $2.75 to $5.00, but the toppings are generous and really make the whole experience. (more…)
Until recently, I didn’t do brunch. Actually, that’s something of an understatement. I used to start my weekend with a large black coffee, a Camel Light, and a quick jaunt to the puppy run. Now that I’ve ditched coffee and cigs I’ve been exploring certain weekend indulgences–like french toast and morning cocktails.
Braving brunchtime crowds to find french toast that’s better than what you could make at home can be tricky, so it’s rewarding when you find a place that’s gifted with their griddle. Cafe Condesa in the West Village uses what looks like french bread as opposed to the ubiquitous challah in their french toast. It’s relatively light, buttery-crisp on the outside but soft and eggy in the middle, and served with fresh berries ($7.75). (more…)
Update: There’s now Vanessa’s Dumpling location on East 14th Street.
Home of the best $1 dumpling deal in Chinatown, this mainstay is looking a lot spiffier these days. Back when it was known only as Dumpling House, it was half as wide, twice as dirty, and usually steamy from the vats of cooking dumplings. The long line of locals waiting outside was the only sign that anything tasty was going going on in there, and speaking Chinese certainly helped in jockeying to be the next order. Now with snappy new signage and a relatively spacious seating area, this feels like a whole new place. Fortunately, the dumplings still rock.
They’re pricier now (4 for $1 instead of 5) but it’s worth it. Get the pork and chive dumplings–fried-crisp yet tender pockets of juicy pork (defuse an embarrassing squirt of juice by nibbling a hole in your dumpling first, instead of biting it in half). (more…)
Well this is terrible news. Joe Ades, peddler of vegetable peelers and sidewalk personality has died, as reported by the New York Times. Always stylishly dressed in a sportcoat or vest, peeling carrots with orange-stained, latex-gloved fingers, Joe reeled in window shoppers all over town with his cockney carnival barker’s voice, pushing $5 peelers with more passion than an army of QVC showmen. Joe, it turns out, lived in a swanky Upper East Side apartment (and he always seemed especially proud of his appearance in Vanity Fair). I’ve stopped to watch him in Union Square in the dead of winter and Soho under the beating sun, always joking with customers and adding to his fistful of cash. It always struck me how much he seemed to enjoy his job. I’ll miss seeing him.