The highest cholesterol in the whole wide world

I've been around, just not around the blog world lately. I've been here and here and here though not so much here of late. So many places to go on the internet, how does a girl choose the right place to talk about food?

Professional eating is getting a bit weird for me, though, since some medical issues have forced me into a world of oat bran and away from my beloved pork buns.

My doctor told me that I have the highest cholesterol count he's ever seen. And my doctor, though acting as my regular GP, is a pulmonary specialist, so I am assuming the man has seen some cholesterol in his day. You want to know my cholesterol number? 423. Yes, that's right, 423; no, I did not transpose the numbers. (Anything over 200 is considered not so great. Over 400 is off the damn charts.) These numbers are so bad that it is surprising that I am sitting here typing and not actively dying of a heart attack.

(But take solace, friends. This is all part of a recently diagnosed thyroid-related issue, one that is currently under control through some serious medication, so rest assured that I am fine and will only get better each day.)

Overall, this is not good news for a food writer. But I understand that my diet needs to change, drastically, and that puts me in a strange position. I am having a very difficult breakup with my dear friend butter. Me and butter love each other very much and it is sad that we have to part. My relationship with butter is like that sexy ex-boyfriend you know is no good for you but you keep sleeping with him anyways because he's so hot. It's heartbreaking. Literally.

So what do I do when put in such a dire medical position? Terrible terrible things, it seems. I checked out the new Brooklyn outpost of street carters Calexico on Union Street the other night, where I had a great torta with carne asada. No, not cholesterol-friendly, but damn delicious. A good torta is very hard to find on the east coast, so that was an exciting development. Great array of salsas there, too, with the super verdant green sauce as my favorite.

And last night, thanks to my friend Brian Smith and his newly formed PR company, I went overboard at the opening of the new Bark Hot Dogs on Bergen Street in Prospect Heights. Nothing like a dinner of hot dogs (loved the chili relish), ridiculously crisp onion rings, chili-cheese fries and a peanut butter shake to get the blood moving properly. It's no good for me, but I will be back there for sure, especially since those onion rings fit my perfect onion ring fantasy (I'm picky on onion rings and don't like the giant, over-battered donut-esque ones. I like 'em in a kind of shoestring style, and Bark gets that very right).

I'm avoiding a number of new restaurants that I am otherwise dying to try. The steak and burger at Minetta Tavern is calling my name, but I keep ignoring its siren song. The whole menu at DBGB draws me in with its intense pork bounty, but I demur. I'm trying to make some healthy choices, and eating in NYC is more and more fatty and fried and offal-rich every day. My arteries are fighting back, and it's getting in my way professionally.

Today I am off to lunch at Locanda Verde, a restaurant I haven't been to yet that I've been anxious to sample. We'll see how I do with my healthy ordering, though the duck meatballs [sorry, lamb sliders, rather] look awful good...

Eating in late '08

Some new restaurant rundown. Lots of new and exciting eating lately, but lots of missteps in there too.

Finally went to the new Momofuku Milk Bar last night. I went in the evening so I didn't get to sample the insane-sounding breakfast pastries (deep-fried poached egg on a homemade english muffin with pork? Um, yeah, there's a way to start the day that I can get behind). I bought a slice of the crack pie which was a perfect midday snack; it's pretty much a pecan pie without the pecans, all sweetened condensed milk, Karo corn syrup and sugar. Gnarly but great. The soft-serve was good, but the chocolate fudge was so treacly sweet and has too sticky a mouthfeel for me. I got the "brown-butter solids" as a topping, and found those disappointing too. High expectations and all, but believe me, I will be back for pistachio cake, peanut butter cookies, and the aforementioned breakfast sandwich. The one real, egregious error in my book? The fact that the most intense fish smell kept wafting in from the Ssam kitchen down the hall—such an unpleasant scent to go along with your chocolate cone!

Buttermilk Channel is the absolute closest restaurant to my house. When I went the other night, it was raining, hard, but the place is so near to my front door that it wasn't even worth it for me to open the umbrella to get from point A to B. Got to love that for convenience, and obviously, I want to love the place. BUT. They got some work to do, oh yes. We sat at the bar and the guy working was wildly spacey, just not paying us any attention. The kale and endive salad arrived totally undressed and the croutons were large chunks of bread, nothing more. The kale was also unchopped, presented as big, full leaves. Which was pretty, but impossible to eat—I was wrestling with slicing each leaf up into manageable chunks. Sarah's green salad was equally tasteless, not bad, but just not much of anything. She also got the bratwurst, which arrived uncooked—call me crazy, but I don't like my pork sausage served raw in the middle. It was easily fixed, but they seemed kind of scared of us after that. The donuts at the end of the meal were totally redeeming, however. What was funny was that the waiter told us there was only one donut per order, and the plate arrived with three donuts, each with its own little munchkin perched on top! A welcome mistake. Regardless, I am going to keep going back, I am rooting for these guys. It's the neighborly way.

Other great dishes I've had recently:
At Bar Q, I had the eggplant miso which was the most damn delectable eggplant I have ever had, or at least in my limited eggplant memory. I also had a chili–kaffir lime margarita there that blew my mind, I loved it so much.
Braeburn just opened in the West Village, where I enjoyed a lovely, sophisticated dinner with Sue and Sarah, and we all went crazy for the passionfruit peekytoe crab salad. I am a fan of anything with passionfruit, but what could have been kind of fruity-lame was a totally fresh and exciting dish.
I had a great coconut chicken dish at The New French on Hudson, which is not really so new nor particularly French. Alas, I'd go back.
I've now had two great brunches at Char no. 4, filled with biscuits and ham and really strong coffee. Though I've yet to go there at night and drink some of the bourbon they are so well known for, I like the place lots and am happy to have it in the 'hood.
Down the block, I had a mediocre hot cider drink at the Clover Club. Too frou-frou for me for Smith Street, thanks. I'll stick with my new winter addiction of rum cider at the local, Abilene.

Updates

I know, it's been forever. Here is some of what I've been up to.

Metromix reviews:
the General Greene
Ippudo
plus stories on coffee, and Manhattan and Brooklyn restaurant weeks.

Citysearch reviews and write-ups:
Nizza
2nd Avenue Deli
Padre e Figlio
Kuta Satay House
Pop Burger

A silly Daily Candy piece on Batch

Plus, I will soon be blogging for Delish.com, and am already contributing posts to Metromix's blog, York'd. I wrote a long article about the lovely Madame Chocolat for Chocolatier magazine, and contributed restaurant blurbs to the soon-to-launch Manhattan magazine. Cool!

Fast-food croissants

Sometimes the best bites come from the most unexpected sources. This week I have developed a new love for what might be the best croissant I have had in the city. And yes, that flaky, tender croissant comes from... Pret a Manger. Apologies to Patisserie Claude and Marquet and all my usual French pastry places.

I have a soft spot for Pret, mostly because I love the little packaged triangle sandwiches sold at every Boots and Marks & Spencer in England; so much better than the overstuffed, too-big-to-eat style of sandwich that Americans prefer. I love the thin bread, weirdly un-American fillings (curried chicken salad, prawn salad, egg and cress, salmon and cucumber) and the diagonal cut fit for a kid.

I've always been a sucker for a coronation chicken salad, which is always the first one I grab off the shelf at any Pret in the world. This is a total digression to the topic, but when I was about ten years old I went over to my best friend Sasha's house, and her mother had a bowl of curried chicken salad in the fridge. It had grapes and nuts in it, which I thought was completely weird, but I loved the dish and it became a marker of sophistication for me. Sasha's mom is a wonderful cook, and I always held her Gourmet-inspired cooking in high regard, and I saw that chicken salad as the epitome of high-class eating. Not that my mom was making crap, mind you, but she sure didn't put grapes and curry powder in the chicken salad; she was more of a diced celery kind of lady. When I started putting lime and dill in my tuna salad, a trick taught to me by a high-school friend, my mom thought that was pretty radical.

Anyways, it should be said that the sandwiches at Pret a Manger in its homeland of England are far superior to the ones available here—years ago there was a great New Yorker article about Pret's American expansion, and they detailed the marketing meetings where executives discussed the strange American penchant for huge, multi-filling sandwiches that fall apart after a few bites. Apparently Americans are scared of mayo, which was probably scary to a culture that calls egg salad "egg mayonnaise." (People are weirdly fearful of mayonnaise I find; it's one of the most-cited items on many people's do-not-eat lists.)

At the Pret a Manger that's downstairs from the office building where I am working this week, they have a small case for breakfast pastries (in the morning it's muffins and scones, in the afternoon they put in cookies and sweets), and every day I manage to grab a pastry that's still warm. I also love that they give you free jam and butter (organic butter even, in those cute individually-wrapped pats). And their coffee isn't so bad either.

ko

It seems almost too food-blog meta to post about my dinner at momofuku ko last night, so for now, here is a photo. I took this at the very end of the night, I was the only one left in the restaurant. Everyone was super nice and the food was ridiculously fantastic.

New coffee

Because coffee is the greatest beverage ever invented, I want to write about a few new coffee places that recently opened up in Manhattan (my part of Brooklyn is still sadly lagging behind when it comes to a decent cup, for some reason. Williamsburg is well served by a few excellent places, but where's the strong coffee in Cobble Hill or Carroll Gardens, huh? Someone needs to jump on that business idea, quick).

My current winner is the new Gimme Coffee in Nolita, an offshoot of their original Williamsburg store. They have a narrow counter spot on Mott Street staffed by the coolest, nicest people who pull the most ridiculous cappuccinos. I like the kind of coffee drink that's super rich and chocolatey, and along with my favorite at Ninth Street Espresso, Gimme succeeds in giving me exactly what I like. With a mediocre drink, sometimes it's as if all you can taste is milk (I am still baffled by people who willingly drink large lattes—why not just order a pint of whole milk and put some espresso powder in it, 'cause that's really all it is...), and other times the coffee flavor is too lame or acidic to really shine. Gimme totally gets it, and I love that every time I have walked in there over the last month or so, I have run into someone I know (including the proprietor of another new favorite coffee place, Abraço) and/or had a great, hilarious conversation with the folks behind the counter. And they do that pretty leafy design thing in the foam, which I find charming.

I also liked the Mercury Dime, the new coffee house opened by the same guy as Milk & Honey, the semi-private cocktail lounge downtown (where it actually makes me sad to go because the last time I visited several years ago was with a guy who has now passed away... Apologies for the morbid aside). Basically, anyone who has such a knack for mixing such spectacularly balanced, creative cocktails is bound to have a talent for brewing coffee, too. Mercury Dime is on one of my most favorite blocks in all of Manhattan, 5th Street between Second Avenue and Bowery; a lovely, downtown block with great restaurants and a quiet, leafy vibe. I liked that Mercury Dime was also hushed and relaxing, with thick carpeting and low music, and a soft-spoken quirky hipster behind the counter. They also give you a mini palmier with every cup (I was told they come from the infamous Patisserie Claude), which is a very nice touch. Nice place.

To top this off (ugh, bad coffee pun?), here is the link to the coffee article I wrote for Metromix (with fabulous pictures from Kate!). Both Gimme and Mercury Dime opened right around the time when I turned this in, so sadly, they couldn't be included. I learned so very much writing this article—I don't think I have ever enjoyed researching a piece as much as this one, and I realized how much there is to know on the topic. Like wine or chocolate, it is a deep subject with infinite information to be uncovered about the history, the product, cultivation, techniques, and the rest. I know I am nowhere near to being a true coffee geek, but I am working on it, and hope to attain total coffee dorkiness soon.

Sandwiches

I had a funny realization last night: I have eaten nothing but sandwiches for the last three days. Sure, there was a half-pint of raspberries, chocolate nut candies, shortbread cookies and a ginger scone in there too, but mostly, nothing but things between bread for me.

This came up because of a conversation about the Sandwich Party, Lisa Davis's annual make-a-creative-sandwich-to-share picinc event. I am very proud to say that Lisa even named a sandwich in my honor last year when I was unable to attend (I think it involved brown-sugar bacon and fig jam with brie and watercress).

Thursday was a chicken salad sandwich from 'wichcraft—I usually love 'wichcraft, and find that it's a reliable spot for really good, if overpriced, sandwiches. I am always happy when I have a job near Bryant Park and get to go to the kiosks there. Still, the best thing they make there is that peanut butter sandwich cookie. A cookie, I know, but still a sandwich! For dinner on Thursday I made a Molinari dry salami and arugula sandwich on an English muffin. And then I watched Lost and went to bed, the end.

On Friday I had a flank steak sandwich from this lovely gourmet to-go spot in Chelsea called Brownstein's. I was working at Martha Stewart Weddings way over on 12th Avenue and 26th street, and the lunch options around there are slim. I ended up at Brownstein's two times last week, even though, like 'wichcraft, it's crazy expensive. It seems all wrong to spend $18 on soup and a sandwich for an office-break lunch, y'know? Dinner on Friday was a global interpretation of the theme, with my favorite street cart treat of Kwik Meal falafel. I stood in the rain on Sixth Avenue eating my falafel on grilled pita and killing time before a performance of Passing Strange. (Go see Passing Strange now!)

Yesterday I kind of forgot to eat except for half of a deliciously spicy-sweet Vietnamese sandwich from Hanco's on Bergen St. I asked for it extra spicy and they definitely indulged me. Bahn mi are so damn good—I got their classic version, with its array of odd spongy meats and salty pate, lots of cilantro and carrot and hot hot chilies. I just finished the other half for breakfast.

Tonight: a square meal, promise.

Current favorites

Some favorite dishes of late:

Jerusalem artichoke soup at Shorty's.32
This was served at brunch, a ridiculously flavorful and rich puree topped with basil oil. We thought there had to be lots of brown butter in there, but the waiter demurred. No matter, I would order this soup again and again.

Gruyere gnocchi at One If By Land, Two If By Sea.
I enjoyed a nice opportunity to eat there last night, at a press dinner to showcase the new chef, Craig Hopson, who is Australian and quite hunky, truth be told. My favorite dish of the night was the gnocchi, which reminded me more of a cheese fritter than anything else. An outside crunch, a super creamy center with no doughiness, and very satisfying. I could have eaten 15 of them in a bowl, alone.

French ham on a baguette at Amy's Bread.
I Imagine that if I lived in Paris this would be my daily breakfast. Nothing complicated about it at all—a few thin slices of ham on a fresh baguette smeared with a healthy layer of butter. There are a few pickles in there too. Perfect. I don't know what took me so long to adopt this as my favorite snack.

Fried chicken at Blue Ribbon Sushi Bar & Grill.
Blue Ribbon's created a strange amalgam of all of their restaurants at the new Columbus Circle location. They brought their coveted fried chicken recipe to the sushi bar—when I saw it on the menu I expected a fried cutlet, a sort of tonkatsu preparation, thinly pounded and crispy. But instead, this was a good ol' Southern recipe, dressed up for a Japanese setting with a dusting of paprika and chile powders; the dish comes with a ramekin of wasabi infused honey to drizzle over. Sticky and greasy, good attributes both, in this case.

The brussels sprouts at Spotted Pig
This is not a new revelation to most people who eat well in New York, but man, oh man, are those brussels sprouts great. I had never ordered the sprouts there until New Year's Day, where I went with Anthony for the world's best first-day-of-the-year meal. If 2008 proves to even remotely resemble the rich, buttery joy of those brussels sprouts, it will be a good year indeed.

More clips

More links!

Citysearch - Mermaid Inn
Citysearch - Lunetta
Citysearch - T-Bar Steak
Citysearch - Irving Mill
Citysearch - Galanga
Metromix - Valentine's Day
Metromix - Food Writing 2007
Metromix - Top Chefs 2007

Clips

Oh, my sad and neglected blog!
Here, just for fun, is a list of recent articles and reviews I've written, for your reading pleasure.
Thanks for stopping by, more to come soon, promise!

Metromix - Ramen Smackdown
Metromix - The Chowdown
Citysearch - Crave Ceviche
Citysearch - Tori Shin
Citysearch - Kingswood
Time Out New York - Entertainment Restaurants
Time Out New York - Hot Ice Cream
Daily Candy - Bubba Rose Dog Treats
Daily Candy - Community Food & Juice

Update 11/27: a few more.

Citysearch - Patroon
Citysearch - New restaurant roundup
Metromix - Market Dining

Reasons not to be a vegetarian in NYC

I hereby present the top 13 reasons, as of this moment, why I will never become a vegetarian in NYC:

- The Shack burger (with a strawberry shake)
- Pork and watermelon salad at Fatty Crab
- Mortadella rustica at Caputo's on Court Street: Italian mortadella studded with bits of prosciutto
- Plates of Benton ham at Ssam Bar (plus the pork buns at Momofuku)
- Lomo Adobado sandwich at Tia Pol
- Daikon radish and fried sardine salad at Sake Bar Hagi (my newest favorite place - thanks, Robin!)
- Salt-crusted shrimp appetizer at Pearl Oyster Bar (these two fish dishes made the cut because they are both somewhat "difficult" - a lot of work and/or eyes involved)
- Green curry short ribs at Kittichai
- My aforementioned favorite, the steak sandwich at Pastis
- The good ol' pastrami sandwich from Katz's (and then down the street to take home a quart of pickled salmon in cream at Russ and Daughters)
- Mongolian beef at Mama Buddha on Hudson
- Fresh killed Ahzhou chicken at the Chelsea Grand Sichuan
- Rib-eye steaks purchased from Staubitz butchers on Court Street and grilled in a ridiculously hot cast iron pan in my kitchen

And another baker's dozen of favorites foodstuffs that would get me by if vegetarianism was forced upon me by some omnipotent otherworldy power (and it would be that unhealthy vegetarianism, too, the kind where you eat mostly cheese, bread and fried things):

- French fries from the Astro Diner on Sixth Ave and 55th St.
- Malfatti, the sublime chard and ricotta gnocchi, at Al Di La
- Cardamom lassi from Lassi
- Ronnybrook Dairy milk fresh from the bottle while standing at the farmer's market on a sunny day after having just bought three vanilla shortbread cookies from City Bakery.
- The world's best feta, from an Australian company called Meredith Dairy, available at Fairway and Whole Foods
- From a place I dislike generally, but the onion rings at Coffee Shop in Union Sq are profound.
- Hummus and fennel salad at Blue Ribbon market (ideal picnic food)
- A dish I just tried for the first time last night: sauteed pea shoots with pine nuts and golden raisins, at Mercat
- Kwik Mart falafel
- Brussels sprouts at Ssam Bar (though most likely this has some ham in it somewhere)
- Zucchini and mushroom pizzas at the old Sullivan St. Bakery
- French toast at Frankies 457 Spuntino, with a side of roasted sweet potatoes
- Another previously discussed favorite: the breakfast salad at Chicory

Olive oil cake

I haven't been posting recipes here, but my baking experiment last night was such a success that now's a good time to start.

I wanted to bring dessert to my friends Jason and Jerry's dinner party; because of time constraints and sheer laziness I was limited to what I had in the cupboard. (Such an old fashioned word, cupboard, as if cabinet is some great modern improvement.) Olive oil cake came to mind - weird, since I had never made it before or read any recent recipes. But I had the last cup of the McEvoy olive oil that is so grassy and green, and it should be put to good use since it's so amazing. I just finished a half gallon of the stuff, over how much time...6 months? Is that a lot of olive oil?!

A quick web search brought up a few decent versions, some with interesting add-ons like cornmeal, orange zest, rosemary or currants. I ultimately chose the one that called for the exact number of eggs I had in the fridge: 3. The original recipe used 2 lemons but I had only one lemon and an almost-overripe orange. I liked the idea of cornmeal, so I used a little bit – I feel like I used too much cornmeal actually, so in the recipe below I lowered the amount. The recipe I nabbed was all sorts of messed up - it called for milk but never mentioned when to add it to the batter. It omitted salt, which seems to me a gross oversight in any recipe, savory or sweet. I also used less sugar and upped the cooking time. So here is my thoroughly altered recipe for olive oil cake. Overall, a major success: not too sweet, a pretty complex flavor without any sort of olive-y note and a perfectly crumby texture. (I just like the word "crumby" so I try to use it often. That and "garlicky.")

Of course, thanks to Jason and Jerry for the ridiculous martinis and an all-around lovely evening.

Olive Oil Cake

3 eggs, separated, at room temperature
1 1/3 cups sugar
1/2 cup olive oil
3 tbsp grated lemon and orange zest
1/2 cup milk
1 1/2 cups unbleached flour
1/3 c cornmeal
1/2 tsp. baking soda 
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp salt


Preheat oven to 350°. Grease and flour an 8" springform pan, or line a cake pan with parchment paper. I floured the pan with a little cornmeal mixed into the flour, and it added a nice extra crunchiness.

Place egg yolks, sugar, olive oil and lemon zest in a large bowl and mix until combined. In another bowl, mix the flour, cornmeal, salt, baking powder and baking soda. Alternating with milk, add the dry ingredients to the egg mixture and mix until just combined. With a mixer, whip the egg whites to stiff peaks. Fold into the batter until combined, being careful not to overmix.

Pour batter into prepared pan and bake for 25 minutes. Rotate the pan and turn the oven down to 325° and bake for another 20-25 minutes. The cake will rise and turn a nice deep golden brown color. It is done when a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

Dust with powdered sugar, garnish with lemon zest and serve with crème fraiche and berries.

Solo Laady

Regarding my last post on Pastis, I was cleaning out my wallet the other day and came across my receipt from that meal. Yes, I was eating alone at the bar on a weekday afternoon. But why did they have to designate me as a "Solo Laady" on my bill? Sounds kind of pathetic...and somewhat Dutch, no?

Steak sandwiches

Damn, that steak sandwich at Pastis is just the best steak sandwich in town.

I went in there on a freeeeeezing cold day in NYC, sat at the bar by myself and chatted up the very nice bartender. He was kind enough to think that I had something to do with fashion week, since the floor was jammed with gorgeous young frenchmen fresh from the runway, tall blonde women on cell phones and rich european men in suits. They must have been on hyper-warp fashion week mode since my food came out with lightning speed, but wow, oh wow that sandwich is great. Roughly chopped skirt steak (is it skirt? I've really no idea) is intensely beefy and sometimes almost gamey (as gross as that sounds, I mean that in a good way), salted and peppered agressively. There's a strong gruyere melted over the top, some sauteed onions in there too, all on a perfectly soft roll that yields perfectly to the teeth and soaks up all the juices as you eat. They get 100 extra points for serving the sandwich and the accompanying crispy fries always with a small ramekin of mayo (eh, they would probably say it is some sort of aioli). Perfect.

I contend that Pastis has the best food of all the McNally places - I usually find myself annoyed at Balthazar (huge crowds and medicore food), and disappointed at the Odeon (overpriced and mediocre food). Schiller's is great for some things, but not as good as it used to be.

But back to the steak sandwich, a dish that can be seen as the hamburger's ignored older brother. It was something my mom always used to order in restaurants, and felt like a special treat to me, fancy and casual all at once. But I can't even think of one other steak sandwich in town that I've noticed on a menu, much less sampled. I'm sure there are a thousand other versions in this city. I think I'll make it my February campaign to uncover the steak sandwiches of New York!

Burger mania

There's a huge obsession with hamburgers lately, it's the sandwich hot topic. I wrote an essay on burgers for my food-writing class that detailed my ridiculous search for the best hamburger in my Brooklyn neighborhood. I came to the conclusion that the winner was served in the restaurant that used to be my apartment - Apartment 138. Yes, I am in the strangely unique position of being able to eat a hamburger in the exact same spot where I used to sleep. It was fun to research the article, (though attempting to sample three contenders in one day was particularly disgusting), and since I wrote it, I have tried several more burgers throughout the city.

Brgr, on Seventh Ave., was completely overpriced and disappointing. Small burgers, thoroughly unjuicy and dull. And not to make a joke that has surely been made a thousand times already, but what is it exactly they have against vowels? (I have a painting that belonged to my parents that was done by a man named William Copley, who signed his paintings CPLY. Another vowel-dropper. When I was a kid I thought that to be pretty radical, purposely losing the vowels from your name.)

Eater has been talking up the burger at Lure Fishbar in Soho. It was really satisfying, however, not sublime. But I walked out of Lure that night happy and excited to return. We had wonderful service: when one of the burgers arrived well beyond the requested medium rare, a platter of a half-dozen oysters was delivered to the table as an apology. It felt like a perfect place to take friends visiting from points out west - fashionable and Soho fabulous, but not snotty and clubby at all.

Today I had the burger at Schiller's on the LES. I still contend that the tuna burger is the thing to order there, if your taste runs towards protein betwen two pieces of bread. The french onion soup, with its crusty cheese topping and hot, perfectly oily broth, was far superior to the bland hamburger on its sad, cold bun. But wow, that wasabi-laced tuna burger always packs a flavborful punch.

My main question is: why is it so difficult to make a great burger at home? Every time I try, no matter how high-quality the ingredients or what I add to the meat, all my homemade burgers taste the same, time after time. Is it my lack of a real, greasy grill? Am I underseasoning the meat? Am I asking questions to the ether?...

TK

I have returned to this url, just because it's the one I like best. Soon, janelerner.com will get developed (thanks Anthony, for the url!), but in the meantime, let's stay here for a while. It's nice.

Full reviews, comments, information tk, but for now, a little something:

- Cafe Cluny - Great duck confit served with sweet, teeny tiny brussel sprouts. I also had the exact same frisee salad as I'd had at Odeon a week before (duh, I guess. but eh. it's a classic but boring), cute waitresses looking vaguely french and very sexy, the whole place was buzzing and fab, but not pretentious.

- Mermaid Inn - Always reliable, though my undercooked mussels were disgusting.

- BLT Prime - Enough food to have fed five and there were just two of us, thick, golden onion rings stacked like a child's ring toy, and I finally understood the overrated concept of kobe/wagyu beef.

- Stinky's - I heard that Tullers closed, so I am thrilled that a new gourmet cheese place opened up. They are very nice there and they carry Applewood restaurant's line of goodies. The lavender shortbread is ridiculous, and so right up my alley.

- St. Helen Cafe - Best damn coffee I have had in ages and a sticky honeyed croissant that was delicious. wow. Thanks Bayard, for taking us there.

- Max Brenner - I refuse to call this place by its full name because the marketing factor at this place is nauseating. The banana split latte shake frappe whatever the hell they called it was absolutely great; the hot chocolates we tried were woefully disappointing. Amateur staff and a decor closely resembling the Cheescake Factory turned me off, but still, we ate dessert for dinner and had a really great time.

- Finally learning how to master my own sage brown butter sauce. It's not hard, I know, but I seem to be on a roll where it's so good that I want to drink it by the spoonful, forget the pasta or fish. I also cooked a piece of black cod last night that had such a soft and rich flesh that it felt strangely obscene as I flaked away the layers with my fork. Stupid expensive, though, from Wild Edibles in Grand Central - not the most inexpensive shopping outlet, by any means - I think I paid over twenty bucks for this one piece of fich. That would be a nice piece of fish, as my family would say...

Name change

Oops.
This name is taken.
I just entered www.butterandsalt.com into my browser by mistake. I came upon another New York writer who writes about food! I think I will have to change the title of this here blog, so hold on for future url updates. Bummer.

Breakfast salad

It is rare to see a menu item that is so original I can honestly say, "I have never heard of that before!" It is rare, also, to see a tiny neighborhood gourmet to-go type place push the boundaries of breakfast to such a degree that my breakfast, lunch and brunch eating habits have been transformed. The breakfast salad at Chicory Brooklyn on Degraw Street is my favorite dish in the world right now, the foundation of a concept that deserves further exploration. Salad for breakfast, you ask? This is like the best Israeli salad ever – grape tomatoes, little diced bits of cucumber and radish, with just enough feta cheese – combined with gently scrambled eggs, perfect cubes of fried potato and a combination of chopped romaine and frisee, all tossed in a light shallot vinaigrette. When I asked Gavin, the owner, if I could crumble an order of bacon into the dish, he agreed and also suggested sausage as another meaty, greasy addition to the absurb deliciousness of the breakfast salad. It's a dish that brings vegetables to the breakfast table in a way that I often crave but don't know how to fulfill.

Chicory was reviewed in today's New York Times Dining section. I'm sure the owners are thrilled but terrified: they seem overworked already – it's super hot in the space and the guys are always sweating it out and looking like they are working their asses off – and I am sure that this review will send business up even higher.

But I am dismayed that the reviewer overlooked my beloved breakfast salad! Yes, the fried chicken is good, the salads in the deli case are consistently great, the sweet potato fries are almost perfect, but that salad is an elevated dish. I have turned several people on to this salad already; my friend Aimee from San Francisco had four of them, I think, during her few days in the neighborhood.

I do have criticisms of the place, sure. I agree that the mac & cheese is too brick-like and thick, and often gets that strange off-kilter burnt flavor when put under the broiler or salamander. Also, I am very disappointed in the regular sandwiches there: the use of crap supermarket bread depresses me, and what really infuriates me is that a place of that calibre uses shredded iceberg lettuce on most of the sandwiches. A few leaves of green leaf or even a bit of cress or arugula would do wonders. Pardon the heated sandwich criticism there, but I find it baffling that a kitchen that can turn out something as sublime as the breakfast salad falls so short on making a basic turkey sandwich.

All that aside...
Congratulations to Chicory! They deserve it, and I wish them well.

Three

I might have overdone it this weekend. Three ridiculous meals over three days, a lot of rich food and good experiences.

The quick run-down: Friday special birthday lunch at Bouley (lovely and delightful but hardly mind-blowing), Saturday night late dinner at Little Owl (unpretentious and delicious, moments of pure joy), and dinner last night at East Village newcomer Barbone (serious Italian in a gorgeous back garden - pictured, albeit abstractly - super fun, since I was with a friend who knew the owner).

More detailed reviews of each to come, but in the meantime I would wholeheartedly recommend both Little Owl and Barbone as two new spots that deserve attention. Little Owl, I imagine, is about to explode. We overheard them say something about an upcoming Times review while we were eating, so I am glad I got in while I could. Barbone will more likely build by word of mouth and neighborhood devotion, though I do hope that they get widely reviewed and become a destination place. The owner was incredibly nice, and I loved getting to sit with him and chat restaurant business stuff. He's a wine guy primarily, and he served us a fantastic red sparkling wine that sent me over the edge of drunkeness.

The endless picnic

Last night was about as beautiful as it gets in the world of free New York summertime events. I went to a showing of Hitchcock's Strangers on a Train at the Brooklyn Bridge Park, or the Empire Fulton Ferry park or whatever it is technically called there, that astonishing slope of green grass along the river between the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges. The weather was cool, the group of friends was stellar and there was lots of good picnic food brought to the blanket. I was especially impressed by the two women who brought their homemade pate. Wow, I went to Whole Foods and bought the smoked bluefish pate on special for $2.99 and thought I was bein' all super fancy. Stepahnie made amazing gooey chocolate cupcakes, which looking back, was really the bulk of my dinner last night. Cupcakes and pate, there's a girl who knows how to live! (Oh wait - I have a few of the leftover cupcakes in my refridgerator, maybe that will be my birthday afternoon snack.) I did bring the Crazy Creek chair though, so at least my camping gear was a hit.