I’m trying to get back on the wagon after a summer full of barbecue and my new deep fryer. Here’s a quick look at a tasty veggie option from one of my favorite Union Square lunch spots: Grey Dog Coffee. A hearty bean-based patty that holds its own even with the spicy red onion. Thumbs up!
Tastes better than it looks
PS – Rest in peace, Carmine Street. This sammy is from the University Place location.
After Hurricane Katrina, my community of family and friends was flung from San Francisco to Austin, Atlanta and everywhere in-between: Memphis, Indianapolis, DC, Houston, rural Louisiana, etc. But the place I felt most at home, in spite of the fact that none of my family or closest friends were here, was NYC. Simply because here, I can more easily experience the best aspects of New Orleans culture – food, music, art, architecture, drinking – than in any other city in the world. New Orleans and New York have a special affinity for one another, and there is virtually no New Orleans specialty that New York cannot provide. (I’ll argue the opposite as well in another piece.)
So for me, New York is like a giant playground of my favorite NOLA things – fried oysters, jazz, street ignorance, festivals, strong cocktails – interspersed with pockets of genuine NOLA lovers, folks who really do “know what it means” to miss New Orleans and are committed to keeping the love of the place alive in their hearts. What’s even better is that there is a strong community of folks that works to ensure that NOLA music and culture is consistently brought to New York and exposed to new audiences: the NOLAFunk guys, as well as the venues Sullivan Hall, Highline Ballroom, Terminal 5, a bunch of places in Williamsburg, and more I’m sure that I’m overlooking. I mean, Trombone Shorty headlined the Red Hot + New Orleans at BAM and it was outstanding.
More fun on a daily basis, however, is rooting out restaurants that dabble in NOLA cuisine. NOLA’s culinary charms have drawn many an aspiring chef to its bosom, and many of those chefs eventually land in New York. I stumbled onto this affinity purely coincidentally. Fried oysters happen to be my favorite seafood dish – I used to eat a 12″ fried oyster po-boy about twice a week in NOLA – and it was in the course of hunting them down in New York that I realized that every place that ended up having a delicious fried oyster had a chef that either was from New Orleans or trained in New Orleans, or spent time living there. Here’s a roundup of my favorite NOLA/NOLA-influenced (note I said *my* favorite; I’ve never been to Mara’s Homemade or Bourbon Street mostly b/c I think they’re tacky – hello purple, green, and gold exterior – AND I’ve heard mixed reviews from folks whose tastebuds I trust. So they’re not included):
Eric and Bruce Bromberg are music aficionados who are no stranger to NOLA’s charms. Eric Bromberg attended Tulane while pursuing a music career in NOLA, which is all the validation I need that he *knows* NOLA food. Then they both went to Cordon Bleu. I love every recipe they’ve ever touched.
The fable of their humble beginnings goes that they wanted to make a restaurant where they as food- and music- industry folk getting off work late could get great food – not pizza/hamburgers, etc – so their restaurant was one of the first with a kitchen staying open until 4:00 AM. Ten restaurants later, we know it worked. I’ve only eaten at four out of the 10, but I’ve never ever been disappointed.
Needless to say, It was like music to my ears when Blue Ribbon Sushi opened a location behind the Time Warner Center. I no longer had to trek downtown or to Brooklyn for my fried oysters! I could get them on the way home from work. Also, their more casual fare at Brooklyn Bowl is delightful. (Hello, Oyster Egg Shooters!) It also doesn’t hurt that Questlove and/or Q-tip spins there on a monthly basis, and there’s a constant roster of great music, much of it the stuff that can be found on the NOLA music circuit. My last show there was Robert Randolph, the slide guitar king.
There’s an ACME on Decatur Street in New Orleans. This one is as close of an approximation as you can get in NYC. There’s also a cute little live music venue in the basement, featuring assorted indie acts. I usually come here when I know I want assorted seafood but I’m not quite sure what to get. You know the drill. There were rumors of Acme’s closing earlier this year after a “can’t-refuse” offer was made to the owner, but I believe they’re back in business.
I love everything about this place. The fact that the menu is largely seasonal items plucked fresh from the farmer’s market that day, the fact that they expanded from 6 tables to 12 and finally have a bar. That they are dedicated to sustainability and social responsibility. But most importantly, I love the fact that Brett Sims is a ragin’ cajun who has managed to bring a fried oyster po-boy to within walking distance of my office.
Duck gumbo, anyone? Although I usually go for their outstanding southern fried chicken. Meg Grace’s pastries also never disappoint; I’ve definitely purse-nabbed some of the cookie treats they sometimes give with the bill. Her bacon peanut brittle is also quite notable, and there’s an annual Crawfish boil that’s done just right.
St. John Frizell – also a Tulane alum – studied the Central Grocery muffuletta and has created quite the tasty approximation. The red beans and rice and hurricanes are also nothing to scoff at. I was there the day the Saints won the NFC Championship in 2009. We all cried and hugged, and ate King Cake from Randazzo’s.
The Two Boots = NOLA + Italy. It’s my favorite NYC slice, hands down (Sorry, traditionalists. Crawfish pie!!!) I usually get the Cleopatra Jones, but all of it, even the veggie pies, are outstanding.
Great Jones is probably the only place in New York where I’ll eat the two sacred staples of NOLA cooking: red beans and gumbo (only when I don’t feel like making it myself). I also appreciated their fried oysters and andouille sausage. It’s also one of the most non-assuming places in the city. No flash and panache here, just good food and nice people. You really do feel as though you’ve been transported to a little bayou town when you step inside.
NOLA PLACES I HAVEN’T BEEN, BUT INTEND TO (Shout out to Garden & Gun for a few reminders):
Imperial Woodpecker Snowballs – Yes, Real Snowballs in NYC. ‘Nuff said.
Ninth Ward
Cheeky Sandwiches – they’re only open 8am-6pm (time for a work field trip!)
Tchoup Shop at d.b.a. – I generally avoid DBA in NYC for a number of reasons, but if they reopen this summer I’m doing it.
Creole – I believe I got into an argument with the chef here at the Black Culinarian Alliance dinner at Tavern on the Green three years ago. We were arguing about the texture of one of his dishes, which was completely wrong in my opinion. I don’t remember which one, but suffice it to say that I’ve never eaten there either, but I’m still curious.
Does this need an explanation? I don’t think so. Here’s to hoping this cart outlasts the temporary summer lunch market at Madison Square Park.
One Steak, One Chicken, Extra Pico, All Good
On my last day in town, I wanted a muffuletta. While Central Grocery is a historical staple, I’d always found it a bit too oily for my tastes, and the line was always too long. I had my sights set on a newer place that was making a big splash for itself in the city: Cochon Butcher.
The fine dining restaurant, Cochon, was nominated for a Best New Restaurant James Beard award in 2007, the same year David Link, the co-owner of Cochon and the popular Herbsaint, was named Best Chef: South. Stephen Stryjewski, the other co-owner of Cochon, was bestowed the very same honor this year in 2011. This butcher shop was their casual brain child – part butcher counter, part restaurant, part supply shop for amateur gourmet – the epitome of everything that modern “fast food” could be in my opinion. My flight was at 3pm, and I had just enough time to bring back a muffuletta (and a few Hubig’s Fried Pies) to cram in before I returned to New York.
Needless to say, it didn’t disappoint. It was the epitome of what I would classify as a nouveau-Creole muffuletta; herby, soft bread perfectly balanced with the finest cuts of meat, a distinctive olive tapenade that may have contained pearl onions and other spices… simple with depth, exactly what would be expected from a Beard-nominee. And in spite of the fact that I was so entirely full that I didn’t think I could fit another bite of food into my stomach, I ate the whole thing.
My stomach was a wreck on the way home, due simply to the fact that I’d eaten entirely too much. By volume. I wasn’t hungry at all when I ate that muffelatta. On the contrary I was quite full. So I already knew that what I was doing could only be classified under the biblical sin of gluttony.
I sat shifting back and forth in my seat trying to find some comfort, to no avail. So I made the utter mistake of consuming yet more – a ginger ale “to settle my stomach”. Less than 30 minutes later, I was fumbling awkwardly in my seat pocket for the bag of terror, which I proceeded to fill to the horror of my rowmate. I didn’t feel sick before or after. Only sublimely embarrassed that I’d actually partaken in a romanesque purge.
A fitting departure for a whirlwind baptism, a forceful re-christening of my stomach into the ways of my old world. Yet an awakening… into a new awareness of health and balance. A knowing, that I still craved another bite in spite of my puke mouth and that I wanted to enjoy eating these things forever, so I had to beat back my primal urges and create balance. You can’t possibly eat rich and gaudy deliciousness for every meal. It’s unsustainable. Hence, my neverending quest for…
Sustainable gluttony.
Having your cake, eating it too, and walking it off afterward so you can fit into the skinny jeans.
Follow my quest.
(Start at the beginning? Intro, Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4, Day 5)
One of my favorite breakfast meals growing up was oatmeal… It felt like a warm hug from grandma. I like mine stiff, with cinnamon, raisins and a fat cube of butter in the middle, drenched in whole milk. But trying to conceptualize oatmeal as a savory dish is both compelling and mind-blowing for me. I’m dipping my toe gingerly into the mix, this time adding a dry-aged grana padano cheese grated over my regular recipe.
Oatmeal w/Grana Padano cheese
Now, Mark Bittman suggested scallions and soy sauce…Â But I’m leaning more toward the fried egg and sausage mix some Chowhounders recommended, with a little tomato relish or salsa…Â Any thoughts or suggestions?
San Diego is a quaint, not-so-little place. Forever in the shadow of its bigger and more glamorous neighbor, Los Angeles, it constantly seeks to prove itself as more fun, more laid back, and just as worthy of a settlement for young adults and families as ever. And it largely succeeds. For those Californians that are not internet or entertainment industry-obsessed, San Diego is the perfect place to have a military, bioscience or technology career in a diverse seaside surfing town with globally influenced food, superb weather, and an active nightlife.
My first stop in San Diego this trip was Santana’s, the fast-mexican drive through with the drool-worthy carne asada fries. Any time of day or night back in NYC, I crave this monstrosity at the mere mention of nachos or fries. As such, I made it a priority. You’ll see why here:
A pile of deliciousness
I can never usually finish. But I certainly tried!
After a disappointing stay at the Bristol Hotel last year, I decided to upgrade and stay at Se San Diego. Although it’s definitely not New York service (hurried snob that I am), I had a pleasant stay in a well appointed room and was totally worth it for the easy access to chef Anthony Calamari’s wonderful creations!
At my one big dinner at Suite and Tender, I went for the olive tapennade and the caprese salad w/white balsamic vinaigrette…Â and ended up choosing the short ribs w/pecorino chive red potatoes and the steak au poivre with bacon-honey brussel sprouts over the mustard brined roast chicken (next time!).
A good dinner is like a good tumble in the sack… it’ll put you right to sleep! Needless to say, I slept like a baby.
I had the great pleasure of visiting San Diego the week of St. Patrick’s day this year, and thoroughly enjoyed the Gaslamp District’s festive attack of the holiday. They do the same thing during Mardi Gras each year: close off the restaurant/bar streets, get a massive DJ act, and let the college kids go nuts. What I didn’t do, however, is take any photos. Because you’ve seen Spring Break before. I was just trying to cut through the crowd and get back to my hotel unsplattered by green-tinted beer or puke. But I did escape to a gayborhood bar to enjoy a few green-tinted cocktails and the slider sampler at Lei Lounge before retiring.
I’m a bit sad that I couldn’t get down to La Jolla to visit Nine-Ten during this trip… As the food there was absolutely delightful! One more reason to return…
I’ve been in Harlem in the same apartment for 4.5 years now…Â right in the center of all the exciting new places that have recently opened (Bad Horse Pizza, Chocolat, Biergarten, 5 and Diamond), and close as well to the tried and true – and mostly delicious – places that have been here as long as I have or longer (Nectar Winebar, Billie’s Black, Melba’s, 67 Orange, etc.)
But my favorite place to eat in my neighborhood, day or night (because they stay open til 4am – yes, 4am – most nights), is Patisserie des Ambassades. It’s a French-Senegalese bakery and grill, open 7am to 4am, an experience (like many things in Harlem) and one you can neither rush nor partake in if you’re in any particular hurry. But everything, and I do mean everything because I’ve had just about everything except certain off the menu traditional dishes that I’ve been lax in ordering, is DELICIOUS. Mouthwatering, omg-what-spice-is-that, make you wanna slap your mama delicious. The omelets are divine (cremeuse my favorite) and only served on weekend brunch. The lamb chops and lamb shank are particularly outstanding if they get good cuts in, and even if not they’re pretty good, and for about $14 you get enough to feed you for at least a meal plus decent leftovers. The whole grilled tilapia has a tomato-onion relish on it that have tried and failed so many times to recreate.
Bread Counter at Patisserie des Ambassades
They also have the best bread in Harlem, $2 for a long french loaf. It usually sells out by dinner time every day. The vast selection of well-appointed pastries, cheesecakes, tartes, cupcakes, tiramisus, and cake-lets will make you drool. I’m also discovering a “VIP” prix fixe menu from their website that I’m pretty upset I never knew existed (it’s not handed out in the restaurant).
But most nights when I’m stumbling home from a night of carousing, I get a burger. I know, tres Americain 🙁 but it’s just so damn good. It’s a hearty thick patty sliced in half with a fried egg put between the two slices of meat, dressed with ketchup and their homemade spicy mayo, all on a perfect brioche bun. Lettuce, tomato, and their sinus-searing homemade hot sauce optional. I usually opt for all three.
Best damn burger in Harlem
Let it be said that I have only finished this entire burger once. And that was after skipping a meal at some point in the 24 hours prior, possibly due to illness.
I will be revisiting the VIP menu here now that it’s outdoor-seating weather. Stay tuned!
Eating better than you.