Update: Dirt Candy is reopening on the Lower East Side in January 2015.
Usually I’m not eager to try vegetarian restaurants, so my excitement leading up to dinner at Dirt Candy was pretty much unprecedented. By “vegetarian restaurants,” I’m not talking about food that happens to be meatless. I mean the kind of restaurant that claims vegetarianism as its raison d’etre. (more…)
“Glorified Popeye’s,” he muttered. “No it’s more special than that,” I said. We both fell to the task of devouring fried chicken down to the bone. Maybe I thought it was special because of the setting—a summer night with a hint of fall, after the most photogenic sunset the city had seen in months; the JMZ train rumbling not-unpleasantly overhead, a beer cooling in my hands. But on second thought, maybe it really was the chicken. (more…)
Rice to Riches sells rice pudding. But wait–don’t go yet! This isn’t like other rice pudding you’ve had; this rice pudding is FUN! At least, everything about this shop wants you to think so–from the pod-like front doors, to the overly-designed packaging, which consists of indestructible orange plastic UFO-shaped dishes and odd curving implements from a future where spoons are obsolete. (more…)
As I slogged into work the morning after Memorial Day, my bleary eyes alighted on a most unexpected sight. The Schnitzel & Things truck was parked on 46th street. I canceled my morning bagel and an oh-so-subtle spring entered my step as I mentally prepared to schnitzel it up come lunchtime.
Schnitzel, a product of Austrian cuisine, is a boneless piece of meat that’s pounded flat, breaded, deep-fried, and served with a wedge of lemon. The most famous variation, wiener schnitzel, is made out of veal, but there are other varieties. The Schnitzel & Things truck serves chicken, pork and cod versions, as well as a toothsome-looking schnitzel burger, and bratwurst. (more…)
When I showed up at Barcade on Sunday it occurred to me I hadn’t visited in about six years. A whole new generation was there, sipping microbrews and gazing into vintage arcade games. Think about it: today’s 22-year-old was born in 1988. Do these kids remember pumping quarters into Sega Out Run at the pizza parlor and tearing ass through pixelated palm trees while a pie blisters in the oven? Did they ever have to fetch their brother out of the mall arcade, a flashing cavern shot with victorious bleeps, electronic rifle fire and Bon Jovi, and steeped in the miasmatic body odor of teenage boys? Not likely. (more…)
OK OK. Let’s look past the name for a minute. When I see a dude hustling toward the checkout with three big bottles of a beer I’ve never heard of, I know something is afoot. A closer inspection of the label, a fairy-tale depiction of dandyfied pantsless rabbits waving from the back of a covered wagon, intrigued me enough to drop $8 on a 1 pt 6 oz bottle. But in all honesty, I did not expect much, except maybe bemused stares from my cohorts as I nursed my fancypants bunny beer. (more…)
Lately it seems like everyone’s moving to the Bowery. Now Hecho en Dumbo, whose owners shuttered their Brooklyn location last fall, is open for business on the newly-chic stretch above Houston Street. And by “newly,” I’m talking about what’s happened just over the last five years: John Varvatos moved into CBGBs, luxury hotels soared over nearby tenements, condos trampled the Liz Christy community garden, and the new Whole Foods and Think Coffee usurped the men’s shelter as neighborhood hubs. Let’s not even speak of that weird Cooper Union building. Hecho, with its artfully-repurposed Hershey’s Ice Cream sign, seems almost undercover compared to its neighbors. (more…)
Some bars seem to foster out-of-the-blue conversations with total strangers–Drop Off Service is one of them. If you’re a reasonably-attractive lady there’s a good chance someone will try to talk to you (for better or worse). Also, someone may try to sell you a glow-in-the-dark toy, or invite you to a Bushwick gallery, or ask you about the finer points of hobbit fashion, or perform feats like clicking his heels together in mid-air (harder than it looks). Or they might let you pet their French bulldog. A dog is an ideal entrée if you don’t relish starting conversations, and at this bar canine wing-men are welcome, as long as they’re well-behaved. (more…)
Six Manhattan chefs from six different well-regarded restaurants, each given a different liquor, and tasked to come up with a cocktail and a dish to accompany it. Add dozens of hungry foodies and stir. Result? A hell of a fun night and a for-the-ages hangover the next day. This event, held on Jan 25th and coordinated by the Edible Magazines network (Edible Manhattan is my favorite food magazine right now–unlike Saveur, it’s locally focused, and the features are more digestible than those in ploddingly academic Gastronomica), was a follow-up to their Good Beer party in July. The tickets were $40, but since this included an all-you-can-handle cocktail throwdown with a magazine subscription to boot, I figured it would be well worth it as long as I ate and drank everything in sight. (more…)
Dining-out disappointments on this scale only happen once in a blue moon so Snackish has returned from vacation to share the tale of her spotty dinner at The Spotted Pig. I’d been eager to to try this place for a long time. It is the gastropub of gastropubs in New York City–starred by Michelin, revered by Yelpers, and favored by the Times. Celebrities knock elbows with plebians in its small confines and its kitchen, bolstered by a well-regarded chef, supposedly justifies the sceney-ness. I had even heard first-hand accounts from friends who said they liked it. (more…)