You've been very patient...

So I'm back in the city after a very lovely vacation. I had a crazy week at work, which precluded much dining-out/fun activity for the past few days-- hence the silence on my part. But things are about to pick up on the food front over the next week or so, so watch this space for upcoming reviews and reports!

I haven't forgotten about you, I promise...

Vacation part IV: Spectacular Italian at Alta Strada

For my last vacation meal, I chose Alta Strada, Michael Schlow's suburban outpost in Wellesley. I had been there once before and had remembered that it was very good, so I was excited to be back.

We arrived on Sunday evening to find the dining room less than half full. It's decorated in a somewhat eclectic style-- lots of hard woods, bare light bulbs hanging in artful style from the walls, and curved acoustical panels on the ceiling. The bar is inviting and stretches the length of one wall, terminating in the open kitchen at the end of the room. I faced the kitchen, naturally, so I could watch what was going on.

The dining room, sparsely populated

Bar area with chalkboard menus

My two trusty dining companions-- Mom and Dad-- left the wine ordering to me. I selected a 2005 Trebbiano, which turned out to be a bit more tannic than I had remembered the last time I had a Trebbiano (if I had been blindfolded I would have thought it was a red wine). But I anticipated it would pair well with food, a prophecy that ultimately did come true. My only gripe with the wine service was that Alta Strada has stemless glasses. It's a touch that I think is meant to make the wine more informal and accessible, but I just find it less enjoyable than traditional stemware. I find that a lot of the wine drinking experience for me has to do with good glassware, so the stemless glasses just don't cut it for me.

Trebbiano, with b-league glassware

We placed our order, and almost immediately bread was brought to our table. It was a cross-section of a hearty white loaf, cut into four rippable chunks. It was accompanied by a dish of fine, fruity, tasty olive oil for dipping. The bread itself had a good crust and a chewy interior. Really, really good with the olive oil, and even better with part of my meal... read on for that. I also sprinkled it with some of the salt and pepper in the cute little wells on the table.

Awesome, awesome bread

Salt and pepper. If you're wondering, they did remove and replace this at the end of the meal.

My mom and dad had ordered an appetizer, and while we were happy munching on the bread, it was taking quite a while for the app to appear. Graciously, a captain brought over a complimentary amuse bouche to tide us over during the wait. It was small teacups of spring vegetable soup, with a mint pistou dotting the top. The soup was hearty, with crisp-tender vegetables and wheat berries at the bottom. The only slightly off flavor was the mint pistou. I like mint in desserts but not really in savory food. But I definitely appreciated the gesture.

Free soup!

My parents' appetizer arrived shortly after the soup. They had ordered Mamma Zecca's eggplant, which was, to be frank, eggplant parm. Don't get me wrong-- I took a taste, and it was spectacularly delicious. The tomato sauce was especially flavorful, with bits of vegetables creating a toothsome texture.

Eggplant parm by any other name...

...would be Mamma Zecca's masterpiece

Once the eggplant was gone, our entrees arrived in a reasonable amount of time. First came the three antipasti selections that made up my meal. A small dish of broccolini was cooked with garlic and chiles. It was crunchy and enjoyable, but I actually discerned absolutely no heat or spice from the chiles... weird.

Tame broccolini

For another vegetable selection, I chose roasted asparagus with parmesan. This was a really high-quality veg; there was that savory caramelized flavor that comes from roasting or grilling asparagus, which I love. There was also a significant amount of asparagus in the dish, something I appreciated. The parmesan was good but I didn't feel it added much to the plate overall.

Asparagus under parmesan blanket

Finally, the show-stopper: fresh homemade ricotta with sage. This is Schlow's signature; they make their ricotta in-house, and it tastes just unbelievably fresh. This dish of cheese came drizzled with olive oil, sprinkled with sage, and accompanied by grilled toast. I eagerly polished off the dish of cheese, pairing it with the bread from earlier as well as the toast. Incredible.

The house specialty

Close up on cheeeeeeeese

I was very pleased with my order, but how did my parents do? My dad had ordered cheese ravioli. It was a reasonably-sized dish but not over-ample. I took a taste of a raviolo, and while the tomato sauce was incredibly flavorful (I think the same recipe as in Mamma Zecca's eggplant), the pasta was undercooked (not just al dente, but undercooked). My dad also wished there were more sauce. I think that undersaucing is an "authentic" Italian thing, but he noted that some of the pasta ended up completely dry, definitely not a good thing, especially if it's undercooked to begin with.

Pasta! With cheese inside!

My mom had selected the spaghetti with tuna, pine nuts, golden raisins, and olives. This was a much more generous portion than my dad's ravioli, but that ended up not necessarily being a good thing. At first my mom couldn't find the tuna-- I pointed out that it was flaked in the sauce-- but once she did locate it, she persisted in noting that there was an "off flavor" in the dish. Finally, it was determined that that flavor was the olives. Now, my mom doesn't like olives, so I can't blame Alta Strada for that-- any dish with olives invariably tastes like olives, so as my mom admitted later, she probably just made the wrong choice. She did like the golden raisins in the sauce, though, which is a big step for a former raisin-eschewer like my mom.

Spaghettini, with, yes, tuna AND olives

Unfortunately, one of the negatives about Alta Strada is they don't really have a comprehensive dessert menu. There are only four choices written on one of the chalkboards above the bar, and one of those offerings is biscotti. None of them appealed, so we requested the check and planned to get dessert elsewhere. I wish Alta Strada would put some thought into a REAL dessert menu-- with such top quality food, I bet the desserts could be spectacular.

Alta Strada is definitely not cheap, but the quality of food was some of the best I've had in a long time. It's a convivial atmosphere (as they say) with attentive service, and I would eagerly return if I lived anywhere nearby. Even though my parents' dishes were perhaps not as up to snuff as they would have liked, I feel justified in awarding Alta Strada four out of five Offset Spatulas.

Vacation part III: Finale, the holy grail

After a just-okay dinner at Sel de la Terre, I was hungry and ready for dessert. We left the restaurant and walked a few hundred yards down the mall to our destination: Finale. Finale is one of my favorite places on earth-- it's a dessert restaurant with a couple locations in Boston (including one in Harvard Square, my old haunt). I had been waiting for this moment ever since the last time I ate at Finale, which was the last time I visited home, several months ago.

The exterior of the Natick Mall location

The restaurant was fairly empty, so we were seated immediately. On the way in, I grabbed a dessert sample from a tray on the counter. It was a small cup of chocolate cake layered with three kinds of chocolate mousse, and it was a delicious pick-me-up to tide me over until my real dessert arrived. We all knew exactly what we wanted, so with only a cursory glance at the menu (force of habit), we were ready to order.

Chocolate mousse freebie

Our bubbly, friendly waitress took our orders and brought my dad's coffee ASAP. We sat and chatted while the desserts were prepared.

Illy coffee, only the best

One of the coolest parts about Finale is that they mount a large mirror over the dessert-assembly counter, so you can see all the ingredients and the plating as it takes place. As you might imagine, this is enthralling theater for me. I chose a seat that had a great view of the mirror, so I watched as the chef plated our desserts and the other orders coming in. Note: if you are prone to orderer's remorse-- that is, realizing you actually wanted something different after you place your order-- don't watch the mirror. Everything at Finale looks great, so while your dessert will be incredible, all the others will be too...

The mirror displaying the assembly counter

It wasn't long before our desserts arrived. Mom ordered one of Finale's signature desserts, the molten chocolate cake. It comes as a personal-sized chocolate cake, accompanied by candied almonds and a pool of dark chocolate sauce. Usually, there is a scoop of espresso gelato as well, but my mom requested it sans ice cream.

Cake topped with a flurry of powdered sugar

Once the cake was punctured, the liquid center began oozing out. I stole a small taste, and let me tell you, if you like chocolate cake, it doesn't get any better than this. The creamy, silky interior combined with the slight sugary crunch of the cakey exterior-- pure heaven.

Molten center in action

I ordered one of my favorite desserts on their menu, the fresh fruit sampler. Part of the reason why I like it is it doesn't make me feel sick after eating it (this is a fault of my stomach, not a fault of Finale, let's be clear about that), but it's also just plain delicious. The sampler comes as a display of fresh fruit around a pecan tuile cup holding two scoops vanilla gelato. You can request any other flavor of gelato or sorbet, but I love their vanilla-- it's Ciao Bella and incredibly yummy. I also asked for extra berries, which they gave me-- and charged for (Finale does have some weird pricing policies sometimes...).

Fruit, ice cream, and cookie: all three major food groups

The fruit was sweet and fresh and tangy, everything fruit should be-- I even ate the grapefruit segments, and I don't like grapefruit. But the ice cream is the centerpiece of the dish, and it was cold, creamy and satisfying. The pecan tuile is like a huge, nutty florentine cookie, and it's anchored to the plate with a dollop of pastry cream, which acts as a surprise bonus rewardfor getting to the bottom of the cup.

You can see the vanilla bean flecks in the gelato-- and the creative chocolate garnish

Both of us polished off our desserts in record time. I couldn't get enough, and my mom, a chocoholic, couldn't either. If I could eat nothing but Finale desserts all day, I would be happy. Sick and fat, but happy.

Fruit...done.

Chocolate...done.

Once finished, we paid our bill and left, passing the pastry case full of other tempting delights on the way out. The cupcakes, in particular, are noteworthy here. If I hadn't just eaten an enormous dessert, I might have gotten one.

A jewel box of edible goodies

The chocolate cake with white frosting is incredibly good

If I haven't made it clear by now, I love Finale. It's a great concept, which began as Harvard Business School project, believe it or not. And although their desserts aren't cheap (a plated dessert like the ones we had will run you about $10), it's a great place to come when you just want dessert. That may seem like an obvious and stupid statement, but as a dessert lover, I often want to go out and just get dessert, and while that pisses most restaurants off, Finale is made for that sort of thing (although it's worth noting that they also serve light savory food). It's also a great place to take a date-- classy and upscale, but in the overall scheme of things, much more affordable than a comparably fancy meal (a final tab for a couple on a date with two full desserts and coffee will still run under $40).

Sure, I could comment on the restaurant's decor-- a crisp color scheme of black and red-- and the fact that their water tastes extra good (well, it DOES). Sure, I could note the friendly and prompt service and the ample room between tables. Sure, I could also mention the somewhat bizarre and incomprehensible pricing schemes they often concoct... and the fact that it's tough to get a table in some of the locations at prime times of night. But none of that really matters. Finale makes incredible, earth-shatteringly delicious desserts. It's one of the few places I actually miss since moving to Manhattan, and it's the type of restaurant I want to own myself some day. I would go there every day if I could. For these reasons, I deem Finale my first and highly distinguished five Offset Spatula restaurant.

Vacation part II: Nothin' special at Sel de la Terre

After a grueling day of shopping at the Natick Mall, my mother, father, and I convened for dinner at Sel de la Terre, a French restaurant in the newly-finished (and highly posh) Natick Collection.

The exterior, with a woman who is not my mother

My mom and I were there about ten minutes early. While I expected them to make us wait in the inviting bar area, they seated our incomplete party without a problem. That's something that is increasingly uncommon in Manhattan, so I appreciated the gesture.

The nice bar area, where we did not wait

While we waited for my dad to arrive, we looked over the menu. I had a hard time deciding what to eat; there wasn't anything that truly jumped out at me. The waiter came and went several times, encouraging us to look over the wine list. Since both my mom and dad were driving and I didn't necessarily want to be drinking solo, we declined the wine. Once our waiter realized he wouldn't be getting maximum value out of our table, the obsequiously friendly service became just a tiny bit icier. Nothing major, just subtly perceptible.

My dad arrived and we put in our order. I looked out over the restaurant, which was decorated in a French peasant-country style-- very comfortably done. There was a large birthday party in the back area that got going while we were dining; the staff separated the party by drawing a large curtain across the back, which was a good solution for both the party and the rest of the diners.

Since this was a French restaurant, I was looking forward to the bread basket. I saw bread baskets on several other tables, and I was seriously hungry, so after we placed our order I eagerly waited for it appear. And waited. And waited a bit more... And then a runner arrived bearing three plates of food, which he set down on our table. Unfortunately, they didn't belong to us. He was somewhat perturbed but whisked them away. Close behind him was another runner bearing my mother's salad. As he set the salad down, I asked him for a bread basket. He obliged, and when my mom was halfway through her appetizer, the bread arrived.

Bush league bread basket

The waiter placed a small dish of softened butter on the table and then unveiled the bread-- literally, as it had been covered by the folded napkin to keep it warm. He unwrapped the top folds as though he were unswaddling a baby. Inside the napkin-blanket were four kinds of thinly sliced bread. The slices were warm, and I was excited.

There are four kinds of bread in there. Really.

I chose something that looked like peasant multigrain. While I expected a warm, soft piece, it was actually somewhat toasted. I'm not sure how I felt about that at the time; it was pretty good, although usually in restaurants I want soft bread, not toast. I spread that piece with the softened butter (well done for softening the butter! Extra points for that) and sprinkled some salt on top, freshly ground from the salt grinder (also very cool).

Multigrain bread, softened butter, and fresh salt

As the bread cooled, the toasted-ness became decidedly less yummy. Ever have cold toast? Yeah, not so good. I tried bits of the other three kinds of bread. One, which I thought was raisin bread, was actually olive bread. Not great. Then my mother encouraged me to try a slice of the third kind-- she said it was a white with "an interesting spice." I tried it and nearly spat it out-- it was fennel seeds and roasted garlic. I HATE fennel seeds and all things that taste of licorice. Eew. Finally, I tried the fourth kind, which was standard crusty white bread. That was okay, but still on cold-toast-status. Overall, a disappointing bread basket, especially after I had to ask for it specially.

My mom tucked into her salad. It was described as a salad of "Pea tendrils, English peas and orange supremes with house smoked trout and barley; lemon thyme vinaigrette." The ingredients looked fresh, and the smoked trout lent an interesting touch. It was fairly reasonably sized for an appetizer salad, and my mom thought it was very well done.

Something is fishy in this salad...

Once the salad was gone, the dish and our silverware were cleared and the entrees arrived shortly after. My dad had ordered pork tenderloin, which came with spaetzle and two types of beans. Because he's "not a bean guy" (his description, not mine), he requested a small green salad instead of the beans, and the kitchen obliged.

Pork with beanless green salad

After he took a few bites, Dad said the pork was "just okay." He said there wasn't much sauce in the dish, so there wasn't much flavor. But by the time we were done with the dinner, he said the dish had improved much-- the first few bites he had taken were "just the wrong bites." The sauce drizzled on top of the remaining slices of pork lent the necessary savory flavor.

For her entree, my mother selected the crabcakes, another generously-sized dish from the appetizer column of the menu. This came with two plump, golden-brown cakes atop an asparagus puree and a rhubarb caramel. She really liked both the sauces, and happily ate the cakes. For what it's worth, the plate was also beautifully composed.

Gorgeous crabcakes

For my part, I got--wait for it-- a mixed green salad. My mom warned me that the standard appetizer size was very small, so I asked for an entree size, if possible-- just some extra greens would be good. The salad arrived and was a fairly large pile of greens, with a few slices of cucumber, a half-dozen tiny slivers of red onion and a tangle of fried carrot. The lemon-thyme vinagrette came in an adorable creamer on the side, as requested.

Mixed greens with a fried-carrot topper

The greens were very standard. The only interesting part of the salad were the fried carrots-- they were simultaneously crunchy and chewy, as you might expect a fried carrot to be if you thought about it at all. The dressing was creamy and flavorful, but after the salad was gone, I was still pretty damn hungry. But that was a good thing-- I was saving room for dessert. Not at Sel de la Terre, although I assume their desserts are very good, but in a different sort of place. Stay tuned for more news on that...

I did make a visit to the bathroom, which was an incredibly soothing place. It felt like someone's home, which I'm sure was the point. Nicely done.

I could totally take a shower in here.

Sel de la Terre is a very expensive restaurant, although they didn't charge us any more for an extra-large salad and they also didn't charge for my mom's two club sodas. But when you're paying those prices (entrees hovered around the mid-high $20s/low $30s, and this is suburban Massachusetts), you expect spectacular food. There were too many lapses of service for it to be a real special-occasion restaurant, and while the food was good, it wasn't outstanding. Plus, the bread basket was a real let-down. As a result, Sel de la Terre clocks in at two Offset Spatulas.

...Dessert interlude...

After dinner last night, and after dinner tonight, my mother and I took a trip to one of my favorite places in the world: Dairy Queen. There is no DQ in Manhattan, so when I come home, I try to eat as much of it as possible. A small cup of chocolate-vanilla swirl will get the job done every time. So, so, SO earth-shatteringly, tongue-dancingly delicious.

It needs no introduction

If Dairy Queen were a real restaurant, I would give it a million Offset Spatulas.

Life with Food and Drink goes on vacation! First stop: Oishii

This being a delightful and much-needed three-day weekend, I took the opportunity to go home to visit my parents. "Home" (i.e., the place where I grew up) is Sudbury, Massachusetts, a suburb of Boston. I got in yesterday evening, and I requested one of my favorite places for dinner: Oishii Too Sushi Bar.

Oishii Sushi has another location in Brookline, closer to Boston, but this tiny sushi bar is all our own. It recently underwent a renovation, resulting in a restaurant that is much more comfortable than it used to be.

The somewhat unassuming entrance

The space is very small, but what used to be a room crammed with tables shoved against one another is now a darkened, serene restaurant with large tables offering ample elbow room. We wondered how they could have afforded to take away so many tables. Unfortunately, I sort of know the answer to that question: Oishii sushi is very, very good, but it is also very, very pricey, and that's coming from someone who lives in Manhattan.

One of the sushi chefs, hard at work behind the bar

Oishii gives each table one set of laminated menus. They have a system where you circle what you want on the menu using a provided grease pencil, which makes it so that your order is always right. Genius! I knew exactly what I wanted, and my mother and father selected their dishes. We were on our way.

No confusion here...

They brought over our drinks first. I went with tap water; my mother ordered Perrier, which they served in a classy wine glass. My dad ordered a diet Coke, which came in a tall, elegant, and...thin glass. Maybe this is part of their cost-cutting plan.

Itty-bitty little bit of diet Coke

Soon, they brought over my first selection: a small green salad. I love the ginger salad dressing at Japanese restaurants, so I almost always opt for the green salad. This salad was certainly small, and it came in a beautiful little bowl (all the ceramics at Oishii are really beautiful), but it was exceedingly difficult to eat. The salad was cut into basically one large chunk, so you couldn't lift it out of the bowl without everything falling everywhere. Eventually, I pretty much dumped the salad onto another plate and ate it as best I could. Once I got the hang of it, it was delicious. Oishii didn't disappoint.

Green salad... you can see the head of lettuce hiding under there

My other selection, a seaweed salad, was hot on the heels of the green salad, leaving me with two dishes while, momentarily, my parents had none. This seaweed salad was ample, gleaming, and vibrantly green. I didn't end up getting to the seaweed until after I had finished my veggies and sampled the other offerings on the table (read below), but when I did, it was fresh and delicious, with a delightful tang. THIS is what I wanted when I ordered seaweed salad at Tao!

Greens, but a different type of greens

My mom had ordered broiled eggplant, another delicious Japanese appetizer. Oishii makes this very, very well. It comes in small chunks of eggplant surrounding a pile of field greens. There's some sort of creamy or mayonnaise-based dressing on top of the eggplant and a bit on top of the greens. I'm not sure I really want to know what's in that dressing, because it's too good. I stole a few pieces of this eggplant and dug into the greens in the middle. The eggplant was silky with a bit of broiled char, and the creaminess of the dressing makes the whole piece just melt in your mouth. Mmmmm.

Eggplant, transformed into DELICIOUSNESS

My dad had ordered pork Gyoza for his dinner. It was a small order, but he said he wasn't hungry. I didn't try any of it (obviously), but he polished off the small dumplings and declared them the perfect thing for a not-that-hungry dinner.

Pork parcels with glossy dipping sauce

Finally, my mom's sushi arrived. She had ordered a soft shell crab roll, an Alaskan roll (with salmon), and a sweet potato tempura roll. Oishii is famous for its sushi-- it's well known in the area for being some of the freshest and highest-quality around. I tried a few of the sweet potato tempura rolls; while the potato was slightly undercooked and thus a bit too hard, the nori and the rice were delectable. My stomach won't tolerate sushi in quantity, but the few bites were just enough for me to get the delicious flavor of Oishii.

Soft shell crab in the back, Alaskan in the middle, sweet potato in front, with a dollop of pickled ginger

Soon, our table was nothing but a graveyard of empty plates.

Nothing but memories

Our servers allowed us to linger for a while, which was somewhat counterintuitive because all of the few tables in the restaurant were full. But after a while reclining with our bellies distended, we asked for the check and paid. The final awesome part of Oishii is the check comes with my favorite kind of mint, those things that look like M&Ms but instead of just chocolate inside there's a mint center with a tiny bit of chocolate under the candy shell. You know what I mean? Whenever I encounter them in restaurants, if there's an unguarded bowl I always take an inappropriately large fistfull of them. Sad, but true.

So where does Oishii come down in the overall scheme of my dining life? It's not in Manhattan, true, but it's definitely a place I like to return to again and again. The food is incredible. The atmosphere is much improved, and while the service isn't so much a selling point, it definitely doesn't detract from the experience. For all this, and basically just for the pure deliciousness that is Oishii, I award this Sudbury institution four Offset Spatulas.

French food and missing chicken at Marseille

During a nice bright spell this afternoon, I stepped out of work with my manager for a lovely lunch at Marseille, on the corner of 9th avenue and 44th street. My brother has consistently raved about Marseille, especially for brunch, but I had never been. It's owned by the same people who own Nizza (see an earlier post for more on THAT!), so on the one hand that portended well in terms of food quality, but on the other hand, I wasn't really sure what to expect from the service. As it turns out, that pre-lunch forecast turned out to be just about correct.

We strolled down 44th street, passing the outdoor tables on the way inside (it was just a touch too cool for al fresco dining, although there were several parties who did choose that option). Even without a reservation, we were seated right away. That was great-- except the waiter led us through the large, bright, bistro-esque dining room to a back corner, where he showed us to a two-top shoved in between another tiny table and a protruding door/entry area. The woman occupying the bench seat at the adjoining table had sprawled all over the two-table bench, and begrudgingly moved her limbs and her possessions out of the way for me to sit down. Unsurprisingly, our corner was dark. What IS it with me, restaurants, and darkness?

Past the outdoor tables...

...Through the spacious dining room....

...To our out-of-the-way corner. This is the view from our table, with me leaning around the outstretched entryway.

The waiter took our drink order (NYC tap, sadly... a boozy lunch this was not to be), and we looked over the menu. Soon, he returned with our water and took our order. I requested the addition of asparagus to a salad, and this was, unfortunately, not allowed, or at least suitably complex as to befuddle him. But a side order of asparagus WAS fair game. Apparently they couldn't take the extra step of putting the asparagus ON the salad, which was what I did when the dishes arrived. Well, whatever. He'd provide, I'd assemble.

While we chatted, the bread basket arrived. This was a small package of two different kinds of thinly sliced white bread, swaddled in a somewhat tired-looking cloth napkin (not sure why they went with that... butcher paper would have been much better and fresher-looking). The accompanying condiment was a dish of sweet butter in a bath of olive oil dotted with rosemary. Now THIS was creative-- I've never actually seen a mixture of butter and olive oil in this context before. Frankly, it presented a challenging conundrum: both the butter and the olive oil were delicious, so I couldn't decide what to put on my bread. I started with the butter, which tasted clear and sweet, and moved on to a bit of olive oil, which had a fruity tang and was much enhanced by the bathing herbs. The bread itself (I only sampled one kind) was a crusty peasant bread with a good, chewy, stretchy crumb. I would have liked a slightly thicker slice, but it was definitely a solid bread basket-- much elevated by the innovative butter/olive oil condiment.

Bread and butter. And oil. Cue my head exploding!

Our food arrived not too long after we had finished our slices of bread. I had ordered the Salade Jardiniere with the dressing on the side, with the addition of a side dish of asparagus, as you may recall. The salad had a bed of mixed greens, a bit heavy on the frisee (but hey, it's French, what are you going to do?), topped with shaved red onion, halved cherry tomatoes, peeled thin cucumber rounds, and haricots verts. They remembered the dressing on the side-- hooray!

Nice vertical reach on this salad

The asparagus came as large asparagus spears with peeled bases, grilled and resting in a small but perceptible lather of butter.

Asparagus, glowing with buttery char

In a crazy and ground-breaking move, I put the asparagus on TOP of the salad and ate it as part of a cohesive meal (part of a complete breakfast!). The salad was fresh, and I really appreciated the thin slicing of the vegetables-- they made usually not-so-palatable veggies, like onion and cucumber, go down easy. The salad dressing was very mediocre, sort of bland and uninspired. I topped the salad with a few hearty shakes from the salt shaker to add some spark; especially without the buttery oomph of the asparagus, the Salade Jardiniere wouldn't have had much flavor.

On to my companion's pick: he selected the grilled chicken sandwich, which came with a small pile of salad greens cradling a few sliced cherry tomatoes. He debated ordering fries, which were ubiquitous throughout the restaurant (and looked really great), but ultimately he passed. A virtuous guy, my manager.

Sandwich from the back

Sandwich from the front. Notice anything?

The first thing we both remarked on about this sandwich was the chicken. It was... small. There seemed to be about twice as much bun as chicken, especially because the bun was so lofty and fluffy. But wait: upon further investigation, we found a hidden cache of stealth chicken!

Tiny little chicken!

HaHA! We found the chicken, uh, tail.

Once we had located the chicken, sticking out the back of the bun, my manager dug in. The sandwich came with roasted red pepper, arugula and bacon, all slathered in aioli (that's Marseillaise mayo, for the uninitiated) on that fluffy brioche roll.

Sandwich innards. Check out that thick blanket of roasted red pepper... and the comprehensive aioli coverage

Despite the, shall we say, misallocated chicken incident, the sandwich was gobbled down eagerly. As the plates were cleaned, my manager deemed the sandwich "tasty, like DELICIOUS tasty." He noted that the flavor of roasted red pepper had managed to permeate the whole sandwich-- bread, chicken, and all-- which was a very good thing, as he liked roasted red peppers. Note to readers: if you don't like roasted red peppers, don't order this sandwich.

Plates were cleared, the bill was brought and paid promptly, and we made our exit. The food at Marseille was definitely top-notch, and the service was competent but brisk. I wish we hadn't been shunted to the dankest corner of the restaurant; as we walked through the dining room on the way out, we both looked longingly at the sunlit, elbow-room-providing tables we could have had. Sigh. Maybe next time-- as I'd definitely come back. Marseille is a really nice place for a lunch on a sunny day, and I imagine it would be a great place for dinner as well-- especially as that would afford an opportunity to try the desserts, which are almost always awesome in French restaurants. The food wasn't the BEST I've ever had, but that may have been at least partially my fault for ordering a plain or bland-ish dish. Based on our experience, however, I'd give Marseille a solid three Offset Spatulas.

Note: Lawrence, the NYCFoodGuy, promised to provide me with an image of a half offset spatula so I can upgrade my ratings system to be more nuanced. So far, he hasn't done so. If he had, I think Marseille would have gotten three and a HALF OSes. But no half spatula picture, no half spatula ratings, so three OSes it is.

Beers and burgers (and salad) at BXL

Last night after work I met up with my brother and our friend Lawrence, also known as the NYC Food Guy (http://www.nycfoodguy.com/), for dinner at BXL. BXL is a Belgium beer house/restaurant on West 43rd Street, just off 7th Ave. Because of its proximity to my office, it's the go-to after-work drinks spot for my colleagues. Aside from its enormous selection of Belgian beers, both bottled and on tap, BXL is known for its fries (or "frites," if we're being fancy about it, which we are). So I plugged the place to Lawrence, who is all about the fries, and soon we and the bro were off to BXL.

The oh-so-Belgian facade of BXL

Inside, BXL is dark. In nice weather, they open up the front windows so the few tables in front of the bar get some light, but most of the seating is past the bar in the dark, dark bowels of the building. Yes, I'm breaking my rule to only go to restaurants that have ample lighting so my pictures turn out well. What can I say? BXL and NYCFoodGuy had to meet.

The darkened cavern that is BXL

The three of us settled in at a table in the corner of the dining area. Aside from being dark, the space is dominated by a large mirror running the length of the one of the walls, which reflects the images of the TVs constantly playing European soccer matches, presumably Belgian soccer, assuming there's a lot of soccer in Belgium. The walls also have a few prints dotting the blank spaces, providing a bit of whimsical artwork to brighten the mood (figuratively, that is. Did I mention it's dark in there?).

We spent a while grappling with the food and beer menus. My brother ordered a Hoegaarden, which they didn't have, so the friendly waitress recommended another beer (Ommegang), which both he and Lawrence ordered. I got a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. Yes, it's weird to order wine at a beer house, but a) I don't like beer, and b) their Sauvignon Blanc is actually pretty good.

Extensive selections of both food (left) and beer (right, also double-sided)

Wine and beer

Drinks in hand, we looked over the menu. The waitress gave us ample time to decide, and when she returned, I ordered the house salad (surprise!), while both Lawrence and my brother went for the cheeseburger. For the bro, cheddar cheese; for the NYCFoodGuy, American cheese with extra-crispy bacon.

While the kitchen got to work, I requested a bread basket. I consider the BXL bread basket more of a stopgap measure than anything gourmet; it's great when you've had some wine and need to absorb it, but on its own merits it's nothing special. The basket comes with thick slices of white bread and some slightly less-white bread-- looks like it's trying to be wheat bread, but I'll be damned if there's any whole grain in that puppy. There was also a small dish of ice cold pats of butter. Kudos to BXL for their powers of refrigeration... but Lawrence and I warmed our pats over the small candle for a moment or two to try to soften them. We were only sort of kidding.

Bread: white in back, not-quite-wheat in front

Right on the tail of the bread basket, our food arrived. First up: my salad. Standard mesclun greens with a few wedges of tomato, coated in a delicious creamy vinaigrette dressing. I supplemented with the discarded garnishes from the burgers (more tomatoes and greens), and that, some bread, and some stolen fries provided a good meal.

A tangle of greens

The burgers, of course, were a different story. Hand-packed and grilled, according to the manager, they arrived on large plates next to a small mountain of fries, accompanied by a grilled bun, a dish of mayo (for the fries... again, Belgium), some garnishes of lettuce, tomato, and red onion, and tiny mound of side-salady mesclun. The cheese was well-melted, and even to a vegetarian, these burgers looked good. Hey, I understand carnivores, I'm just not one. Some shots of these masterpieces-- I used flash on the burgers, upon the urging of NYCFood Guy ("Be obnoxious!"):

Cheeseburger with cheddar, behind fortress of fries

There's the "well-done" bacon in the back. It was really crispy.

Burger in progress

While Lawrence busily photographed his burger (stay tuned for his post on the experience), the bro and I got to work on our food. I munched on my greens and stole the occasional fry. A word on BXL frites: they're good. Really good. And I'm a bit disappointed in last night because they weren't piping hot-- when they're fresh out of the fryer, they're irresistible. Crunchy, just thick enough, and dusted with large specks of sea salt (although I always add more of my own), they're tiny little sticks of potatoey goodness, perfect by themselves, although some prefer to dip them in the pots of ketchup (definitely Heinz, my brother noted) provided on the table. My two companions definitely went to town with the ketchup, both for the burgers and the fries, and when they exhausted the small jar at our table, a new supply was brought out immediately upon request.

We ate, drank, and talked, and soon the food was gone. Our plates were cleared quickly, but it's worth noting that our waitress let us linger for as long as we wanted, even after it became clear that we weren't going to order anything else. It's a bit loud inside BXL, but it's a great place just to hang out, chat, and linger over a drink.

A note on the bathrooms, as always: The women's bathroom at BXL is cold. There's not really much else to say except that-- it's really cold in there, as though there's a window open to the outside or some sort of cross-ventilation, even though it's tucked in the interior of the restaurant. Ladies, go to BXL; pee; see for yourself.

I must say, I'm fond of BXL. Perhaps it's because I've had a lot of good times there with colleagues, but the food is always good, the drinks are delicious, and the atmosphere is fun. Sure, the service sometimes is a bit iffy, but the waiters do wear cool softball-jersey-style "BXL Cafe" shirts. But you're there for the people you're with, and for the fries (I hope I can get NYCFoodGuy to return for an order of piping-hot fries so he can see exactly what I'm talking about). We met the manager on the way out, who proudly discussed the construction of their burgers with Lawrence for a few moments. It was clear he felt good about the place he was running, and I do too. For all these factors, I give BXL a solid Three Offset Spatula rating.

Ethos, more than just pricey water at Starbucks

Last night my brother, his friend and I ventured to Ethos, a Greek restaurant in Murray Hill, for a lovely dinner to start our night out. I had read lots of good things about Ethos online, and I've wanted to go there for a long time. I wouldn't necessarily say it was a List restaurant in the technical sense-- I tend to reserve List designation for what would be called "reach" restaurants in the college-admissions parlance. That is, List restaurants are expensive or hard to get into or both. Ethos is really neither; I just hadn't gotten a chance to go there yet. So last night was the night.

We arrived a bit late for our 7:30 reservation (Manhattan traffic was a complete mess due to all the street fairs... so my previous post for more on that), but the host didn't seem to mind. We were led to a comfortable, high-backed booth in the back, weaving in between the tables along the way.

The restaurant had its front windows open to the lovely weather outside, so the temperature inside was cool but comfortable. The space was packed with tables and decor, but the small area managed not to seem cramped-- I think the high-backed booths probably helped a bit with that. Someone had certainly put a lot of thought into making this restaurant evoke Greece, with lots of exposed brick faux-distressed walls, trellises with vines, and so on. As we started our meal, there was ample light, but around 8:30 someone turned the lights down to "da club" status, which meant we could no longer see each other. We were about finished by that point anyway, but the moral here is if you want to be able to see your companions, go to Ethos on the earlier side (plus, by the time we left there was quite a long wait).

The interesting "Greek" decor

Fresh fish on ice, awaiting your order

Our waiter brought us menus. While my companions looked over the ample selection of food, I perused the wine list. The selection was small, but very, very affordable-- there were a number of bottles under $40, and even some under $30. On the recommendation from the waiter, we went with a Greek Sauvignon Blanc for $33. He disappeared and returned shortly with the bottle of wine and poured me a taste. The wine was good, but unfortunately it was about room temperature, which is not something I like in wine-- I like white wines, and I like them cold (probably too cold, if you're going to be technical about it). So I asked if he could chill the bottle a little bit, maybe bring out an ice bucket or something. He seemed to argue with me for a brief moment about whether the bottle was cold (um, it wasn't), and after a bit of disagreement about whether he had to return the bottle entirely-- that wasn't what I was asking for-- he realized I just wanted an ice bucket, brought it over, and plopped the bottle inside. Once we got past all the semantics (and the wine cooled down a little bit), it was actually a good selection, vibrant and sharp with an appetite-stimulating acidic bite.

Phew. On to the food. We placed our order after much hemming and hawwing, if you will. The Ethos menu is pretty large, and there's a lot on there that looks really good. One of my regrets is that I didn't get to try any of the Greek spreads, especially the hummus and melitzanosalata (which looked like babaghanouj). But we had to make a decision, and we didn't have all night, so we put a stake in the ground and chose.

While we waited for our food to arrive, a runner brought over a bread basket and a bottle of olive oil for dipping. Now, you know how important a bread basket is to me-- a restaurant with a bad bread basket is, by definition, a bad restaurant-- and Ethos's offering, which was stuffed with warm, soft pita and a couple of other varieties of bread, didn't disappoint. I skipped the slices of bread (looked like a type of white with a sesame-seed crust) for the pita, ripping small chunks off the wedge and dipping them in the oil. I think it was the best pita I've ever had.

Warm, tender, lovely pita

Once we were nearing the end of the bread basket, our food began to arrive. Perfect timing. My salad was up first, making me fear that they brought it out as an appetizer and I would have to finish it because my companions' food would arrive-- but no, the other dishes were close behind. I had ordered the Ethos Salata, requesting tomatoes instead of the grilled fennel (not my favorite vegetable, as I don't like the licorice-y taste) and the dressing on the side. What arrived was an ample plate of veggies, including a few surprises.

The Ethos Salata... sort of

The menu description of this salad is as follows: "Organic mixed greens with grilled fennel, sundried tomatoes, goat cheese and olives with Greek wine vinegar and extra virgin olive oil." What I ultimately found on my plate was a large pile of mixed greens, with shredded carrots, thinly sliced red onion, raw strips of green pepper, and a few roasted red peppers mixed in, topped with chunks of tomato, a few sundried tomatoes, and three olives. Along the sides of the plate were large discs of green apple topped with rounds of fresh goat cheese. I give Ethos credit for remembering not to put in the fennel and put the dressing on the side, but I'm a bit puzzled as to why they don't list all the ingredients on the menu. Although there is a possibility that all the extra veggies were just there on my salad because I didn't go with the fennel... but I suspect not. Either way, I dug in.

The salad was an ample plate of food, and it was good. The vegetables were crisp and fresh; even the roasted red peppers were good (and didn't give me indigestion afterwards, hooray!). The goat cheese was creamy and mild, an interesting flavor I'm not used to in my typical Coach-Farms consumption, and nicely complemented by the tart green apple base. The only negatives to the salad were the bits of green pepper (I picked those out) and the lack of abundant olives. The dressing was also somewhat lackluster; I abandoned it after a few forkfuls, but there was enough other flavor going on that I didn't really need dressing anyway.

Close-up of the goat cheese and apple rounds

My brother got the Ethos Arni, a dish of braised lamb in tomato sauce with potatoes, all baked in a clay pot. The waiter brought over the cooking vessel itself and then scooped out the meat and potatoes onto the plate-- a nice bit of tableside theater. The dish looked savory and warm; my brother gobbled it down with expressions of delight, pronouncing it like a better version of pot roast. Our friend ordered the Moussaka, a lasagna-like brick of ground meat, eggplant, potatoes, and bechamel, topped with some melted cheese, all accompanied by green beans in a tomato sauce. I snagged a small taste of the bechamel, studiously avoiding the ground meat, and a green bean, which was surprisingly flavorful. Most of my experience with green beans comes from steamed canned beans from the dining hall in college, so needless to say a good green bean was nothing short of a revelation.

Moussaka in the background, with beans on the side

All three of us polished off our dishes. As we finished the bottle of wine, we debated the dessert situation. Word on the street was Ethos doesn't have a dessert menu, but they bring you a free custard pastry at the end of the meal (these rumors came from Menupages, where I have researched Ethos... and basically all the other restaurants in Manhattan... many a time). Well, Ethos doesn't have a dessert menu, that part is true, but they also don't bring you anything at the end of the meal. What they do do is come up and say, "Can I get you anything else?" This becomes a bit awkward, because what are you going to say-- sure, I'd like another entree and possibly a few more appetizers just to cap off the meal? We were all pretty stuffed, so the lack of dessert didn't quite matter in the material sense, but it's certainly against the dining norm.

As is my usual protocol, before I deliver the final verdict, a word on the bathrooms: Ethos has two stand-alone bathrooms next to the entrance to the kitchen. Per my brother's advice, if you have to go while you're there, use the one on your left (the bigger one). The one on the right has a weird slanted mirror on the ceiling, which bugged my brother out to a perhaps irrational degree. But, you know, just a word to the wise...

So, in the end, where do I stand on Ethos? Overall, a very good experience. The food was top-quality, and the chefs were amenable to alterations to my dish (always a good restaurant trait when I'm dining out...). The pita was the best I've ever had. The portions were generous, and the ambiance was fun. Both my dining companions nominated Ethos for the first-ever five Offset Spatula restaurant on Life with Food and Drink, but I must pull up a bit short. Amongst all these perks were the somewhat dysfunctional wine service (I'm not a wine snob, seriously, but the whole situation was just a bit awkward) and the lack of a dessert menu... and the accompanying lack of a free dessert offering to make up for the lack of a full menu. Also, while the prices were relatively reasonable for New York City overall, they're a bit higher than I'd like to pay for an everyday, casual dining destination.

So, as a result of all these factors, I grant Ethos four OSes. Definitely check it out if you're in the area and you're in the mood for some quality Greek food. I certainly wouldn't hesitate to go back.

9th Avenue Food Festival!

I spent this lovely afternoon wandering up and down 9th Avenue, taking in the food festival that's going on today and tomorrow. While there were the "usual suspects" at this street fair, the cool part is that a lot of the little restaurants on 9th set up booths or outdoor seating areas, so it feels more neighborhoody than the normal street fair fare. I didn't eat much this afternoon (most street fair food is a no-go for my digestive system), but I did get a bunch of good pictures, so consider this photo essay your encouragement to make your way over there tomorrow.

The first thing I saw was the Steve's Authentic Key Lime Pies truck; they were selling mini pies topped with whipped cream.

Don't be shy, eat the pie!

Next up was the Mitchell London Foods booth. They had a bunch of delicious-looking baked goods, including mini cupcakes that have been on my to-eat list for a while:

Mitchell London Cupcakes with mini-brioche sandwiches

Mini creme brulees

Interesting-looking carrot cake...mmmmm

Amy's bread had a booth! I love Amy's bread... now THEY have some good cupcakes.

Amy's Bread, with happy employees and enticing treats

This booth puzzled me... do they actually sell people like me on pita? A non-meat-eater sandwich?

I wonder how much I cost?

Next: one of my favorite booths of the fair. I don't know if the Sweet Chef Southern Styles Bakery has an actual storefront anywhere-- I've never seen one-- but they had a comprehensive array of pies for sale, including key lime (my favorite), apple, and a bunch of others.

Southern cookin'

They also sold the cutest thing at the entire fair: mini pecan pies.

I bought two of these, for my brother and his friend.

The Poseidon Bakery had a large and loud booth there. I haven't eaten at Poseidon, but I've heard their Greek pastries are worth the trip. They have really weird hours so often when I pass them on the way back from work they're closed. One day, though, I'll make it over there for some baklava.

Poseidon's enthusiastic workers

Greek offerings

Another local favorite: The Little Pie Company.

A local institution on 43rd Street

They were selling slices of their pies and cakes. I've heard TLPC also makes a really good carrot cake, which was among their by-the-slice offerings today. Damn my stomach-- there were so many enticing things to eat...

Squares of carrot cake among chocolate and fruit pies

As you can imagine, there were several non-vegetarian-friendly booths scattered among the smoothies, crepes, and baked goods. I include a few photos herein for the meat-eating-readers.

Greek-ish street food...

...including a big 'ol pile of turkey legs

Of course, there were the obligatory knockoff lingerie booths. Um, right?

What's up with this?

All this food ogling was making me hungry. I was right around 44th street, which meant I was near Lenny's sandwich shop. Normally this wouldn't be significant, but as of a few weeks ago, Lenny's became home of something I've wanted to try for a while: Yolato!!

The Yolato machine inside Lenny's

I ordered a small cup of Yolato. It was pretty expensive (more than $4), but they gave me a decent amount.

Yolato with unnecessarily wasteful lid

The fro-yo had the distinctive pinkberry-esque tang, but it was much more creamy. It had a thick texture and was less melty than 40 Carrots was-- it held the dispenser ridges quite admirably.

You can sort of see the texture...

More textural fro-yo porn

Of course, once I dug down into it, there was the telltale fro-yo hole in the middle. But that's okay, from a stomach-space standpoint, at least. This was quite a lot of Yolato for one girl to handle.

Merely a shell of itself...

I polished that baby off while sitting at the window watching the crazy people of New York take in the street fair. That was some gooooood Yolato. I'd definitely get it again.

And... done.

Needless to say, I was now freezing cold, so I stopped at the Starbucks across the street for a fortifying hot tea. Then I was back into the fray.

Question: What do you get when walking around Barbados in uncomfortable shoes?

Answer:

Sorry. I had to.

Oooookay. Back to the action: Right after finishing my snack, I passed this booth: Fruitberry frozen yogurt. Part of me wished I hadn't had the Yolato so I could have some, but the rest of me thought the name was so ridiculous I shouldn't encourage such a product by purchasing it. I mean, come on, Fruitberry?

Aren't berries a sub-genre of fruit?

The Hallo Berlin cart was there, right in front of the new location on 9th.

Want some wurst?

Right across the street was Uncle Nick's Greek restaurant. This was a pretty raucous booth as well.

Greek food and millers-about

Public Service announcement: Uncle Nick's was roasting an entire pig on a spit. This is gross to me, but some people like that sort of stuff, so here's a pic:

Ew.

There was also a stand selling knockoff bloomin' onions. Seriously, about one out of every two or three people at this fair was walking around with one of these enormous things. If fried onions are your thing, check it out.

What, no "flowering onion"?

And of course, there was a dude with an enormous snake, letting people take pictures with it. Um, obvi.

Eating street food always makes me crave... snake?

So that's my roundup. There were innumerable other booths, of course, but I'm only one person with limited camera space. For the rest, go check it out tomorrow. Go with an empty stomach and a full wallet and you won't be disappointed!

Join this sea of people! See how happy they are?

A taste of France (Belgium?) in Bryant Park

Today I was treated to a lovely lunch with a colleague at the relatively new Le Pain Quotidien at Bryant Park (on 40th Street, near 6th Ave). LPQ is one of my favorite chain-ish places in New York; I've been to the one on Madison on the UES several times before, and it's always yummy. Sure, sometimes there's attitude-- hey, it's French, or possibly Belgian, I'm not quite sure-- but it's worth it to plow through that crap for the delicious food.

The new Bryant Park location is relatively large, with a huge to-go takeout area dominating the front part of the restaurant. My colleague and I were led to the back, where the sit-down tables are arranged. As always, there was a long communal table, one of LPQ's trademarks, in the center of the room, but we were seated at a small two-top against one wall. All the tables were rough-hewn wood and rustically styled, to match the rest of the place. The restaurant was well-lit and bright, even on a semi-overcast day like today, but it got noisy as more people showed up. (I guess fabric-covered surfaces aren't "rustic.")

The communal table, with a peek at the take-out area

The menus arrived quickly, and we chose what we wanted. There are so many lovely things on the PQ menu, especially for a vegetarian, but definitely for anyone who likes really fresh, tasty food. I've had their Salade Vegetarienne several times before, which is a mesclun salad topped with all sorts of delicious cheeses. If you can put aside the fact that you're consuming approximately 13,000 calories' worth of cheese in a "salad," it's uncommonly delicious. Hey, even if you can't put that aside, it tastes damn good.

This time, to restrain myself a little bit (there's a work event/party tonight, sure to be a binge-worthy time), I chose the simple mesclun salad. The salads come with bread on the side, and I chose their organic whole wheat, although their baguettes are also a top-notch choice. The salad was reasonably sized, and it came with sliced cucumbers, sliced radishes, a couple of tomato wedges, and a small slice of cantaloupe (anyone seen the Jacques/bowling/brunch episode of the Simpsons? "It comes with a slice of cantaloupe at the end"? Anyone? Anyone? Shout out in the comments section... you'll win some sort of prize.). One of the best things about LPQ salads is the pesto-olive oil dressing-- they just put a drizzle on there so the salad isn't drowning, but it's truly delicious and flavorful. I managed to eat the radishes without being too put off by their taste; overall, a very good salad.

Mesclun salad, with cantaloupe wedge obscured behind the tuft of greens.

But of course, the most important part is the bread. I ate my whole wheat slices alternately dipping it in the dregs of the dressing and slathering it with their nutella-like spread (no chocolate, just hazelnut), which comes in the condiment caddies you can request. PQ also makes good jams, which populate the other two spots in the caddy, but I stuck with the hazelnut spread, because it is just. so. good. Smooth and sweet without being sugary, it makes even virtuously healthful whole wheat bread somehow bad for you.

Carbs.

Condiment caddy, with hazelnut spread on the left. All restaurants should provide hazelnut spread along with ketchup and mustard at every meal.

My companion ordered the tofu salad, which I've also had before. It's a similar type of basic mesclun salad topped with several wedges of tofu, each one dabbed with one of a couple different sauces/marinades. It's Asian-inflected, with a couple sheets of nori in the salad to bring the concept home, and highly flavorful. But it's a lot of tofu-- you've gotta really commit to the idea of eating tofu in quantity to be up for the challenge of this salad. As my friend put it, "This is more tofu than I eat in an entire year." And she's a vegetarian as well.

Tofu salad. Isn't it pretty?

Service was brusque (just usual New York-style, not French attitude-style, which was a relief) and efficient-- in fact, the whole experience was quite efficient. We didn't wait long for our food to appear, and once we were done, the dishes were cleared and the bill delivered in a highly timely manner. This restaurant, at least at this time of day, is unsurprisingly clearly geared toward the work lunch crowd. We were in and out in probably 45 minutes. The atmosphere wasn't rushed, but it wasn't the type of place where I'd feel comfortable loitering.

The only other notable thing about my experience was the bathroom. It wasn't a Tao-style, blow-you-away-in-a-confusing-manner bathroom, by any means. In fact, it was sort of utilitarian, a shade on the dingier side of upscale. But the best part was the paper towel dispenser. It was one of the kind where you wave your hand and it dispenses a given amount of towel. Usually, I find with those that the amount these dispensers give is just a bit too little to dry your hands completely, but of course two sheets is more than you need and is wasteful. So you're caught in some kind of damp-handed purgatory. But this paper towel dispenser produced the perfect in-between length! Hooray! I'm not exactly sure why I'm dwelling on this, because it's sort of weird, but this is one of my pet peeves, so I was glad to see a restaurant that got it right.

Overall, LPQ provided a very good lunch. I'd recommend it for anyone looking for a mid-level sit-down lunch option in midtown. It's probably also great for people who want to get some take-out from the front part of the restaurant and then go sit out on the grass at Bryant Park in the nice weather. Either way, I'm definitely adding this place to my list of good lunch places in the area. For being delicious and reliable but still a get-em-in-and-out chain, I bestow upon Pain Quotidien three offset spatulas.

Lunch updates: Free Foods NYC and Zest

To continue my week of crazy restaurant food, I've had takeout lunches in the office both yesterday and today. Even though I don't have pictures (come on guys, taking pictures of your food while you're eating with teammates/bosses/the Office Head is just a LITTLE bit unkosher), I figured I'd provide an update in case you're in the market for some Times Square-area lunch food.

Yesterday, we ordered in from Free Foods NYC. I had heard about the place on the blogs as it was opening, and I had planned to bring a group of 8 or 10 people from work there for lunch yesterday. I even called them last Friday (since I was coordinating the lunch) to ask if they had seating for a group that size. The man on the phone informed me they did, so the plan was to go there, get our food, and have a leisurely sit-down lunch.

Well, I just so happened (seriously, it was a coincidence) to walk past Free Foods during my travels this weekend, and the place has about 8 seats. Right. During the lunch crowd, of COURSE they could accomodate our group of 8, because the likelihood of anyone else eating there and wanting to sit down was, like, zero. Right? RIGHT? Arggh, Free Foods, you toy with my emotions.

Fortunately, Monday dawned a cold, rainy, and miserable day, so I made the executive decision to order in. I placed the order on Seamless for delivery at 11:45 for our noon lunch, and the food came just about at 12-- points docked for tardiness. But overall, the food was quite good. I ordered a Mediterranean Rim salad with arugula, white beans with marjoram, picholine olives, sun dried tomatoes, and apple instead of the protein. I had also asked for lemon chickpeas, but for some reason they didn't put those in (guess I have to dock some points for that too, although I didn't really mind all that much). The salad was reasonably sized and quite tasty, with an ample but not overwhelming amount of each ingredient. The citrus dijon dressing was also very flavorful.

A bunch of other people ordered the Free-Range Turkey sandwich with drunken goat cheese, which was pronounced quite delicious. My friend who ordered the Seared Rare Tuna salad said it made her "very happy." There were a couple other sandwiches circulating around the table, and at the end, all the food had disappeared. This was partially due to the fact that everyone thought the food was very good, but also partially due to the fact that the portions were pretty small. In fact, in a rare turn of events, I think the salads are actually the best value there. But I use the term "value" loosely. Almost everything at this place is more than $10, and there's no chance I'd ever go here if it weren't being covered by my office (ahem). But if someone else is paying, and you're into upscale, organic-ish food, give Free Foods a try.

Today I had lunch with the Office Head, and we ordered salads from Zest. Mine was a Grilled Thai Veggie salad, which had a base of baby spinach AND arugula (hurrah! I love that mix). In the bowl were grilled zucchini and yellow squash, bits of grilled eggplant, and cherry tomato halves. The Asian Chile lime vinaigrette (on the side, natch) was spicy and tangy, but a bit too oily, so I used it sparingly. Truthfully, the veggies didn't need it-- they were well seasoned but not too greasy, as grilled veggies can be, so the flavors were very clean. This was a truly great salad. Once again, Zest is a pricy option-- I didn't order this particular go-round, so I can't report precisely how much it cost, but it likely ran just under the $10 mark, much too expensive for my personal "I'm paying" threshold. However, for those not-too-rare occasions when my employer is footing the bill, I've added the Zest Grilled Thai Veggie salad to my go-to list.

The Tao of Tao-- and ratings!

Saturday evening. My mother and I had walked as far as we could walk, bought as much as we could buy. My brother had joined us, coming from a marathon four-hour benefit brunch. None of us was particularly hungry. So of course, what better thing to do than gather the troops for an epic dinner at Tao?

Outside, with the huge SUVs

My father and my brother's friend were set to join us at the restaurant. Now, undoubtedly Tao is a "scene" dining destination, and they made that clear during the reservation process. When the restaurant called to confirm our reservation early Saturday afternoon, the woman on the phone curtly informed me that they "don't seat incomplete parties" and "can't guarantee the reservation after fifteen minutes." Whew. Ooookayyy, Tao, we'll play your game. So as my brother and mother and I sat in the Tao lounge and waited for the other two members of our party, the minutes ticked by and I got increasingly anxious. My father ran frantically around, trying to find money to feed the meter. My brother's friend was "ten minutes away." By my count, we all made it there just under the wire: it was 6:15 exactly when I notified the host we were all present (our 6PM reservation was a result of us trying to fit dinner in before the 8PM Celtics game). I should note that at no point while we were there did they actually threaten to give away our reservation or make us feel especially rushed, although the lounge area was packed so I'm sure they wouldn't have hesitated for long before giving us the boot...

In any case, we were led to our table on the main floor of the enormous and very loud dining room. There was a second floor that overlooked the main space, but still, the entire enormous room was dominated by the iconic giant buddha statue, which sat above a lotus pond and gazed over the diners slowly and progressively becoming as fat as he (case in point: see "giant fortune cookie" later in this post). Club-type music played over the loudspeaker, and candles flickered everywhere in the very dark room. My brother had been to the Tao club in Vegas before, and I could easily imagine how this restaurant reflected its clubby brethren.

Buddha, watching over us.

We were not seated long before our waiter came to take our drink orders. We selected a nice bottle of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. Sauvignon Blanc is one of my favorite wines, and this bottle was delicious-- fruity, lively, and spicy. It went really well with the food, which began arriving soon after we had placed our order.

My father's chicken satay arrived first, which made me assume that was the "appetizer course." But the remainder of the food trickled in about two or three minutes later, so I'm not actually sure what was supposed to happen pacing-wise.

I ordered a seaweed salad sampler, which was a large platter of various types of seaweed on a bed of ice surrounding a small dish of spicy sauce (when the waiter delivered it, he announced: "It looks bigger than it is." Not sure if that's a good thing to say to a girl in reference to food she just ordered...). The sampler was-- well, comprehensive. The small portion of traditional seaweed salad (you know, the kind that you can usually get at Japanese restaurants) was really top notch, and it made me wish the rest of the platter was actually just a huge dish of that seaweed salad. Pretty much everything else on the plate was just tangles of raw seaweed, which is interesting, I guess, but not all that flavorful (with some weird textural aspects thrown in). I tried to rescue it in various ways, first by dumping on a bunch of the spicy sauce... that sort of worked. And then I began adding bits of the side dishes we had ordered: spicy eggplant, which was delicious-- tender, sweet and sour, and quite flavorful; and sake-braised shiitake mushrooms, which were pretty good but not outstanding (approaching rubbery although not quite there). The additions of bits of sides made me able to eat most of the seaweed. But not all (an important distinction).

The Seaweed Sampler. You can't see the seaweed. It was really dark in there!

Other dishes on the table fared much better. Two orders of chicken pad thai were quite well received. My mother enjoyed her salmon thoroughly. My brother's lobster wontons were pronounced only average. But overall, the majority of our party enjoyed the food more than I did, so maybe I just ordered a dud.

Pad Thai. Sorry these pics are so crappy...

Part of my ordering plan was, as always, to save room for dessert. I had heard lots of great things about Tao's signature dessert, the giant fortune cookie, and by gum, I was going to get me a giant fortune cookie. So when the dinner plates were cleared and the dessert menus arrived, I ordered two giant fortune cookies for the table to share.

The desserts took an oddly long time to arrive (I don't think they were baking the fortune cookies fresh, so not sure what was going on back there), but they were certainly worth the wait. Now THIS would be a reason to return to Tao: A huge (dare I say giant?) fortune cookie rimmed in chocolate, filled with dark chocolate mousse on one half and white chocolate mousse on the other, and surrounded by delicious fresh fruit. There were also some giant fortunes tucked in the cookie's lap. Some of these fortunes were hilarious and bawdy, and one of them ("Someone is thinking kinky thoughts about you") we contemplated giving to the party next to us, an inexplicable mishmash of 70-year-old women, 95-year-old men, and one 18-year-old boy. Sadly, we didn't, as that probably would have led to a much more interesting post.

COOKIE... with fortunes in the middle

We dug in and strode purposefully towards Dessert Coma Land. The cookie was crunchy and sweet, like a traditional fortune cookie only much better; the fruit was fresh and tart. I liked the white chocolate mousse (which tasted just like straight-up whipped cream-- hey, that's all right with me) better than the chocolate mousse, which was a little too bitter for me. The five of us demolished those cookies, leaving nothing but empty plates and distended stomachs. (N.B. I was still sickly full many, many hours later. If I ever think going house on a giant fortune cookie is a good idea, remind me it's not.)

I'd consider the giant fortune cookie the most notable thing about Tao, although there was one other unique element about the restaurant: the bathrooms. They're labeled Yin and Yang. Which one is girls? Which one is boys? Who knows-- you take your chances. I guessed that Yang was for males because it rhymed with a certain male body part, and lo and behold, I was right (about the outcome, not necessarily the reasoning). There was also a nice bathroom attendant, at least in the Yin room, to help you decide which door to choose. She got a kick out of me for reasons I cannot entirely explain and laughed at my antics throughout my time in the stall.

So now we've reached the part of the post where I give you my high-level, synthesizing thoughts of the restaurant and the experience. But this time, upon the urging of my family and friends, we're trying something new: the debut of the Official Offset Spatula Rating System. Some FAQs about the OOSRS:

Q. Why offset spatulas and not, say, stars?
A. Because offset spatulas are my favorite kitchen utensil, and that seems appropriate.

Q. What are the parameters of the ratings?
A. They will range from zero to five OSes. I don't think I'm going to do half-spatulas, because I can't really figure out how to represent that visually.

So here goes-- my inaugural rating of Tao is: Three Offset Spatulas.Why only three, especially when, in an unofficial end-of-dinner poll, all four of my dining companions gave Tao four OSes out of five? Well, first of all, because I'm writing this and they're not. But more importantly, I have other reasons: Aside from the truly awesome dessert, my food did not blow me away in the least, and it seemed that the seaweed salad sampler was actually somewhat ill-conceived, unless in traditional Asian cuisine you're supposed to eat large fist-sized tangles of unseasoned raw seaweed (which I hope they don't). And frankly, once you got past the scene-y phone reservationist attitude, the whole restaurant seemed less chichi and more... Olive Garden-y. That is, it seemed like an extremely well-oiled machine, a large operation that churned through diners at a rapid money-minting pace and thus made each individual party feel somewhat anonymous. Though the food was generally high quality and, I repeat, the fortune cookie was extravagantly delicious, Tao is never a place that I'd feel "at home" in-- it's not really a place that I'd return to again and again or go to to celebrate a special occasion. And those are the types of places for which I reserve my four- and five-OS ratings.

So there you have it-- a night at Tao, a giant fortune cookie, and three offset spatulas.

Figs, Olives, and Carrots

On Saturday, my mother came into the city for a mother-daughter shopping excursion in honor of Mother's Day. She always leaves the logistics up to me, so I chose the midtown/upper East area as our shopping location. And we all know what that means: for lunch, we got to experience Fig & Olive, a restaurant that has been on my List for a while (remember the List? Sure you do...).

We arrived at the new 5th Avenue location on the early side, shortly after it opened for lunch. The place (not surprisingly) was almost empty, so we were seated right away. As the host led us to our table in the back, we passed the takeout lunch counter, groaning with premade baguette sandwiches and tempting apple tarts.

Gourmet sandwiches to go

The restaurant itself is light, bright, and airy, with the olive oil bottles decorating almost every spare surface. There's a cool semi-open kitchen, with a matrix of olive oil barely obscuring the work taking place behind.

Olive Oil as wallpaper

After we perused the menu, the waiter came to take our order. While he was a nice guy, he wasn't really able to answer the one question I asked about my prospective dish (question: what kind of vegetables are in the "provencal vegetables"? Answer: "uh, it'll be like, roasted peppers, yeah, peppers...some artichokes..." Reality: Asparagus, mushrooms, zucchini. No peppers. No artichokes.). No matter; we were in a good mood, and soon we had a plate of rosemary-scented bread to dip in a flight of three olive oils while we waited for our food to arrive.

My mother had chosen three crostini to start: one salmon, ricotta, citrus, cilantro; one eggplant caviar, sundried tomato; and one manchego, fig spread, almond. She took enthusiastic and eager bites of each, declaring them delicious and savoring every last morsel.

From left: Manchego/fig, eggplant, salmon

While my mother was working on her crostini, my Provencal Vegetable Tasting Plate arrived (a minor error in meal pacing, as my mother still had a salad coming, but it ended up not mattering much). From the description on the menu, I had envisioned a large plate of food, dominated by Provencal vegetables accented by other garnishes. What arrived was, well, not exactly that:

My "tasting plate"

Those are the Provencal veggies in the top left corner-- a small, restrained pile, although they were incredibly tasty. The bottom left corner was a dish of goat cheese mixed with fruity olive oil. The bottom right is "eggplant caviar" and olive tapenade, both of which were incredibly delicious (if not the most photogenic of foods... I had a closeup but deleted it because it looked like poop). The final quadrant was mint, lemon and olive tabbouli studded with scallions. Frankly, it looked quite bland but was surprisingly tasty, the citrus dancing on the tongue. The dish came accompanied by a plate of grilled bread squares, which were perfectly toasted, crunchy and delicious. This was a fun plate of food to eat; I alternated among the quadrants, smearing first this then that on the bread, combining tastes and eating things separately. Before I knew it, all quadrants had been cleared, and I was using some of the pre-meal rosemary bread to sop of the vestigial olive oil.

Thinly-sliced rosemary bread

As I was finishing up my entree, my mother's salad arrived. She had chosen the chicken salad, which came with seasoned chicken, avocado, hard-boiled eggs, and homemade croutons atop a bed of mixed greens.

Chicken salad, with artful avocado

Although she opted for the dressing on the side and took off most of the avocado (it's no mystery where my peculiar eating habits come from), she really liked this salad. She declared the chicken to be very well seasoned and remarked upon the croutons as well. She also liked the sprinkling of sea salt, which gave the salad both extra flavor and texture.

So my mom didn't feel awkward eating alone (oh, okay, more because I wanted it), I ordered a fruit salad. Well, first I asked the waiter what was in the fruit salad (Answer: "Blueberries. Yes, blueberries, strawberries, apple, some figs." Reality: cantaloupe, honeydew, a few strawberries, apple, three stewed figs.), and then I ordered it. It was premade, so it arrived quickly. As fruit salads go, it was on the good side of standard, definitely too heavy on the melon (as all restaurant fruit salads are), but with the creative and welcome addition of preserved figs, which definitely made the salad unique.

Fruit salad. Note the lack of blueberries.

We finished our meal at Fig & Olive with tea and coffee. I didn't get any pictures (a cup of tea is a cup of tea), but my mother nearly swooned when she took a sip of her cappuccino. She said it was the best she's ever had. Huh!

Fig & Olive was a big hit-- a bright, welcoming ambiance and very, very good food. It's a little pricey and the portions aren't extravagant; aside from that, the only noteable drawback was the fact that our waiter didn't really know much about the food. But he was certainly affable, and that counts for a lot. I would definitely return to Fig & Olive, especially with a group of people who appreciate quality (and aren't necessarily fixated on quantity).

We left Fig & Olive and proceeded to stimulate the economy-- i.e., shop-- before our planned dinner (that's my next post). But there was one notable midday stop: Forty Carrots in Bloomingdales. I've never been before, although I had heard that it's arguably a strong contender for the crown in the NYC Fro-yo wars.

When we arrived, there was a short line, but it moved quickly. While we waited, I examined the interior of the take-out area (there's also a sit-down cafe); it's a bit Pinkberry-esque, a fact that didn't escape me. I was still very full from lunch, so I didn't get my own dish of frozen yogurt, although I did try a taste of the plain flavor. It had the signature yogurty tang of Pinkberry, with the welcome addition of a distinct creaminess. My mother ordered a small cup of the chocolate flavor (there was also butter pecan), and this is what she got:

Chocolatey, melty goodness

That's a SMALL, mind you. Sure, it cost about $4.50, but that's about what a Pinkberry costs, and you definitely get your money's worth here.

I'll reiterate: I was full, and I don't even like chocolate ice cream, but I ate about a quarter of this dish because it was so. damn. good. Even with my help we only finished about three-quarters of the whole thing, tossing the rest before heading back out into Bloomies to shop vigorously for the few short hours remaining before dinner. Stay tuned...

From Italy to New Orleans in one night: Gallo Nero and Bourbon St.

This weekend was a big one for food and drink, so the next few posts will cover the many eating and drinking establishments I patronized on Friday and Saturday. First up: Friday night.

My girlfriends from work and I had scheduled a good old-fashioned wine-and-bitch fest for after work on Friday night, so around 6 we left the office and headed out, looking for a wine bar. Although one of my friends wanted to try Casellula, a wine and cheese bar on 52nd street, I had been there before (it's awesome) and thus knew there was little chance we'd get a table for four in the postage-stamp-sized boite. I recommended we try Gallo Nero, a new wine bar on 44th and 9th, instead. I had been there once before just after it opened, and though it was still working out the kinks at that point, it was clearly a promising place. I figured at the very least we'd probably be able to get a table. Plus, it was en route to Casellula, so if we didn't have any luck at Gallo Nero at least it wouldn't be out of our way.

As expected, we arrived at the nearly empty wine bar and immediately got a table. Gallo Nero is a cute little place, with exposed-brick walls, romantic lighting and candles, and rustic furniture (read: wicker chairs that actually aren't all that comfortable).

Glasses and glasses and glasses...

I ordered a glass of white wine, while the three other ladies decided to share a bottle of red. I sheepishly admit that I don't remember what kind of wine either the glass or the bottle was... shameful, I know. But it's all Italian varietals that I don't really know much about. My glass was pretty average, nothing mind-blowing but a nice thing to sip at the end of the workweek. I tried a tiny taste of the red, and it was... well, red. I'm not a big fan of red wine.

Although I wasn't that hungry, our table did go through quite a bit of food over the course of our few hours there. We started with bread, one of the best parts of Gallo Nero.

Crusty, crunchy bread

The rolls are crunchy on the outside and fluffy on the inside, with just a hint of delightful chewiness. And they come accompanied by a white bean dip, delicious on its own but even better slathered on the bread. The only thing that could enhance this bread experience would be some olive oil for the table... the little dish of bean spread is not nearly enough for four rolls (although they'll bring more dip and more bread if you ask).

White bean spread, next to the mood lighting

Once the bread had come and gone, one of my friends ordered the octopus. I can't comment on how it tasted, being a vegetarian and all, but it certainly looked quite octopus-y. I was told it was very well cooked, a bit briny but very flavorful. It was good enough that the girls ordered a second dish once the first was polished off.

Octopus in a dish.

Octopus in stomachs

The other offering our table tried was the Japanese eggplant alla parmigiana. That was a huge hit-- again, I wasn't hungry and had already inadvertently eaten an entire roll and several spoonfuls of dip so I didn't have any eggplant, but it went quickly and smelled delightful. Plus, you can't argue with documentary evidence of cheese stretch-age:

Cheese in action

With full bellies, we finished off the evening with Prosecco and eventually rolled out of there into the rainy night. Overall, I like Gallo Nero; it's a nice neighborhood-y place that feels comfortable. The bread is top-notch, something I really appreciate. And the food is very good and reasonably priced, although the portions are certainly small. The only fault I've found, something that's been consistent through my two visits, is the service is not that great. It's stand-offish and not really that knowledgeable, despite the fact that it's a wine bar specializing in Italian wines-- on my first visit, I ordered a glass of moscati d'asti (a sparkling wine) and was presented with a glass of dessert muscat. When I gently pointed out the error, they allowed me to keep the dessert wine gratis and brought me the sparkling wine as well, which was nice. But still-- if Gallo Nero is going to stick around and compete with the dozen other wine bars in the neighborhood, it has to step up its game just a teensy bit.

Bubbles bubbles bubbles

Once my girls and I had parted ways, I returned home to relax for a little bit. I was still looking to go out-- it was relatively early-- but it was so gross weather-wise, I didn't want to go very far. Thus, my brother and I ended up at the new Bourbon St. Bar & Grill, a new Restaurant Row tenant on 46th between 8th and 9th, for a nightcap.

I've watched Bourbon St. go up over the past several months. They've done a remarkable job with the building's facade, making it look very much like a New Orleans mansion. Whenever I see a restaurant being born, for some strange reason I always end up rooting for it-- that's what happened with Il Melograno, and the same thing is happening (perhaps to a lesser degree) with Bourbon St. They're like my babies, and I want them to succeed.

We arrived around Midnight on Friday night, and though it was far from crowded, it wasn't disconcertingly empty, either. We ordered some drinks and took in the atmosphere.

First floor and balcony

Though that's a pretty terrible picture, you can sort of make out the setup. There's a sizeable bar taking up most of the first floor, with a lot of tables (up against the wall in addition to communal tables in the middle of the floor) in the remaining area. There's a balcony/second floor overlooking the scene below. And in the back is a lounge-ish area with low tables, although my brother and I agreed that that space might be better used as a dance floor.

Overall, though the bar is certainly very large, it seemed that it could get a bit tight in there with a good crowd due to the oversaturation of tables and lack of empty space. But Bourbon St. certainly held promise: the drinks were good and not too expensive ($8 for a cocktail, $5.50 for a bottle of beer), the ambiance is delightfully New Orleansian, and the soundtrack was notably awesome. I'd certainly go back, and I hope it becomes a successful hot spot in the neighborhood.

44 and X, a "heavenly" dining experience in Hell's Kitchen

I had a bad day yesterday. I'm talking one of those quintessentially crappy Mondays at work where everything goes wrong and by the end you're trying to make it out the door before you start crying. Fortunately, I had a date to go to dinner with my brother Monday evening-- a fact that sustained me through every excruciating, soul-crushing hour.

I finally escaped from work, my stomach rumbling and my head throbbing, around 6:15. I fled down three avenues from my office to the lovely little white-wood-paneled restaurant front of 44 and X. Immediately I felt a bit better-- and I hadn't even gone inside yet. Things were looking up.

Once in the door, I was greeted by perhaps the friendliest hostess I have ever encountered in my life. I arrived there before my brother, and the hostess and I engaged in some delightful banter before I planted myself at the bar for a few minutes. Nursing a glass of ice water, I watched the passers-by on Tenth Avenue outside the window. Soon, my brother arrived and we were shown to our seats. The hostess joked that I was the only girl ever to choose the chair over the bench when given the option. We both interpreted that as her making fun of my brother and made fun of her in kind. You could cut the witty repartee with a knife.

The bright, airy atmosphere and bustling waitstaff

Safely ensconced in our table, we looked over the menu. 44 and X is not a cheap restaurant, but it's not overpriced, either; my brother commented that it would be a solid date place, nice enough to show you're not cheap but not stuffy or expensive enough to make you regret coming there. As we decided what to order, a waiter brought over two lovely, crusty multigrain rolls, which we devoured. The rolls came accompanied by a dish of sweet butter, delicious but highly chilled and therefore a bit less than spreadable. But I'm splitting hairs, here-- that's one of my only complaints about the entire experience.

A seeded multigrain roll, just enough to quell my hunger momentarily

We placed our orders and chatted for a bit, and soon our food arrived. I ordered a mixed greens salad with cherry tomatoes and a sherry-herb vinaigrette. I had had my eye on the Mediterranean chopped salad, but when the waiter described it, it seemed not to have what I was looking for (i.e., there were too many peppers. And we all know what peppers do to me...). So the mixed greens would have to do. They arrived as a bountiful plate of greenage with a few tomatoes scattered here and there. It was a fairly substantial salad, and the tomatoes were particularly delicious-- they had soaked up extra amounts of the sherry-herb mixture and were quite flavorful. I polished off my plate quickly.

Foliage-- delicious, delicious foliage

My brother ordered the burger, which he upgraded with a slice of cheddar cheese (N.B.: said slice of cheddar cost $3. That's my second-- and only other-- complaint about this restaurant). The burger was preceded by a small tray of ketchup and mustard. I'm posting the picture here just because it was cute, but my brother noted that the servings of these condiments were unusually generous for a restaurant.

Classy ketchup and mustard

The burger was accompanied by a medium-size stack of thin shoestring fries, dusted with a coating of herbs and salt. I tried a fry, and it was definitely on the better side of serviceable, hot and crunchy but a tiny bit too thin for my taste.

The burger is in there somewhere...

The burger arrived well-cooked at the requested medium temperature. As a special bonus-- mad props to 44 and X for this-- instead of a run-of-the-mill bun, the patty came perched on an English muffin. So cool!

English muffin bun

The carnage, so to speak

And... done.

As my brother polished off his burger, I cleaned my plate of the greens. Our waiter returned to take away our plates, and he ribbed me that it looked as though I had licked the plate. I would have, good sir, were it socially acceptable.

Both of us pretty full (me primarily from the bread, my bro from the burger), we decided to skip dessert and asked for the check. The $3 slice of cheese and cold butter aside, 44 and X got rave reviews from us both. The staff is exceptionally friendly, the food is very good, and the place is welcoming, bright, and cheerful. I'd want to go back to check out the creative cocktails, the desserts, and maybe even the roasted beet and goat cheese terrine, an interesting-looking starter that I passed up this time around. If you can think of no other reason to make the trek to 10th avenue and 44th street, go for the bathrooms. I'm serious. The bathroom on the main floor (there's a set underground as well) is the most pimped-out, boudoir-style, rose-strewn candlelit restaurant bathroom I've ever seen. I tried to take pictures, but the crazily romantic atmosphere was too much for my camera to handle. And this way, you'll just have to go see for yourself!

My brother and I walked out full and happy, with 44 and X firmly on our list of great new neighborhood finds.

A lovely New York day... and PHOTOS!!!

Today was a lovely day in good ol' New York City, and I was feeling a little weird. Not sick-weird, but just... I don't know, weird-weird. I had to do a little work early in the afternoon, and it was just so unsuccessful and frustrating that I knew I had to get out of the apartment. I made plans to meet up with one of my friends for mid-afternoon "tea." As I prepared to leave, I knew that what I wanted was to walk down to Chelsea market, about a half hour from my place, and wander around there.

Now, I know I live in New York so am not supposed to like Chelsea Market. It's touristy and it's home of the Food Network (which I also love...hmmm...); therefore, it's not a place New Yorkers are supposed to go if they can help it. But truly, I love Chelsea Market. It has so many cool stores with row upon row of everything I like-- baked goods, kitchen utensils, ice cream, dried fruit, cheese. Ooooh, the cheese.

And now the moment you've all been waiting for: the debut of PHOTOS on Life with food and drink! I decided to ease myself into taking pictures of food by taking pictures of my trek around Chelsea Market. Somehow I felt that's less obtrusive. Right?

Fruit and chocolate at Manhattan Fruit Exchange

My first stop was the Manhattan Fruit Exchange, which is a delightful little grocery store inside Chelsea Market. They have walls and walls of chocolates, candies, dried fruit, vegetables, fruit, spices, dry goods, and cheese. I usually go there for the dried fruit, and this time, they didn't disappoint. I picked up a container of dried apple slices and a smaller box of dried pears, which were moist and sticky-sweet. Their dried fruit is really top-quality and quite inexpensive.

After picking up my dried fruit, I wandered around the Exchange for a little while. Some of the veggies looked really appealing, especially the baby bok choy (one of my favorite veggies).

MMMMMmmmm, bok choyyyyy....

As I was vaguely in the market for something to make for dinner this evening, I really should have picked up some of this bok choy, which looked crunchy, leafy, and delicious... and cheap. Later in the afternoon I saw some less-lovely-looking bok choy at Gourmet Garage for $3.99 a pound. No go!

I also spent a few moments longingly ogling the cheese counter. Now, I love me a good cheese department-- not only do I love cheese, but for some reason the display of all those different options, the different colors and textures and smells... I can stand at a cheese counter all day. The Fruit Exchange's department, the first of several I visited this afternoon, was small but fulfilling.

Cheese at Manhattan Fruit Exchange

After a quick stroll through the spices and the dry goods, I paid for my dried fruit and pried myself away from the Exchange. On to the next stop: the Italian imported food store. I'm sure this store has an actual name, but I don't really know what it is, and in my mind it will always be known as the Italian imported food store. Here, I met my friend, and we wandered through the tightly packed aisles looking at the lovely imported foods.

Of course, there was another cheese counter, or several, actually. One had a alarming large bin filled with softball-size bundles of fresh buffalo mozzarella. Oh, man. If that stuff weren't about $15 a pound, I would have bought the entire bucket. As it was, I bought nothing. Ah, the cheapness of me. My friend purchased a few items for her dinner this evening, as I looked at the barrels of olives, various flours, chocolate, and candy.

Flours n' beans

Chocolate

On we went, reluctantly leaving the Italian shop. We wandered in and out of the Ronnybrook outpost, Ruthy's bakery, and the wine shop. Finally, we reached the end of Chelsea Market, and we decided to continue our walk outside. Wandering through the village, we stopped in Gourmet Garage, home of the overpriced Bok Choy, but also home of another lovely cheese department, this time with samples.

Piave Vecchio, one of my favorite cheeses of all time

After we left the Garage, we stumbled upon Batch, Pichet Ong's new bakery, to my great delight. I've never been to P*Ong, but I've wanted to see what he had to offer by way of baked goods. Turns out, it's this:

Cupcakes and more at Batch!

The baked goods looked really good, and on any normal day I would have bought one (probably one of the cupcakes), but I had something else up my sleeve this evening.

Finally, we wound up our walk in Union Square. I stopped in the Whole Foods to pick up some veggies for dinner. I was hungry, but I was still undecided as to what I wanted to eat later, something that rarely happens. I went downstairs to the produce department and picked out some asparagus (I am so, so happy that it's asparagus season) and some mixed greens. Then I went to the olive/cheese department (yet ANOTHER! So much cheese in this city...) and made a beeline for the antipasto bar. I picked out a small but choice assortment: a few sundried tomatoes, some glistening and plump olives, and one-- yes, just one-- tiny ball of herb-marinated fresh mozzarella. That, in combination with some leftovers I had at home, would make a fine dinner.

I hopped on the subway, and after my train dead-ended at 34th street (a fact the conducter announced only after a 10+ minute wait stopped at the station... arhghghghgg), I took the Q to 42nd and walked home from there. On the way back, I picked up a cold bottle of Sauvignon Blanc at the 9th Avenue Vintner, my favorite local wine store. Finally, after a sun- and cheese-filled afternoon, I was back home.

I tossed the asparagus in a little sesame oil, salt, and pepper, and threw them in a pan on the stovetop. While that crackled and spattered, I cut up some wedges of tomato, sprinkled them with a bit of rice vinegar and salt, and once the asparagus was done I put those in the pan as well just to warm and roast down a bit.

While the veggies cooked, I tossed the greens in a bit of olive oil and rice vinegar and plated them on a large white platter. I added a bit of shredded carrot and arranged my pieces of antipasto on top of the greens. I added a few dollops a hummus around the plate (a mediterranean salad, perhaps?), and I placed the warm asparagus and roasted tomatoes on top. All finished, my masterpiece looked like this:

Homemade dinners are so soothing.

I poured myself a glass of the sauvignon blanc, which was absolutely juicy and fresh. I could even smell passionfruit when I opened the bottle-- which I usually think is ridiculous (who actually smells passionfruit in wine?) but I swear, this wine smelled like passionfruit. If I may say so myself, this was a damn good dinner, something I'd earned after a long week.

But that wasn't all. After a bit of time to digest, it was time for... COOKIE!!! COOKIE COOKIE COOKIE!!!

Levain Bakery's finest

My friend Lawrence, a food blogger better known as NYC Food Guy, had oh-so-kindly brought over some cookies from Levain bakery the day before. Now, I've only had Levain bakery cookies once before, but this past Friday I was craving them so strongly I almost--ALMOST-- hopped on the subway and traveled all the way to the Upper West side to pick up a chocolate chip walnut cookie. Glad I didn't-- the cookie came to me less than 24 hours later.

If you haven't had one of Levain's petite masterpieces, you haven't lived. I'm not even a cookie lover; I much prefer cake, cupcakes, ice cream, pastries... lots of other sweets, actually (although I have a soft spot in my heart for black and white cookies, also known as half moons, but more on that later). Levain cookies, however, are a different cup of tea. These cookies are hefty and highly substantial, packed full with chocolate chips and the occasional walnut. The outer edges of the softball-sized confection are golden brown and crisp, while the inside-- an inch or two thick at the center-- is almost raw, with the most decadent cookie-dough texture. Oh my goodness. Needless to say, the entire cookie disappeared quickly, with the help of a few glasses of milk. What a great ending to a lovely day.