A Eulogy: R.I.P., Elm Court Inn

Life is fleeting, and in the short time we have on this Earth, restaurants come and go. We can only hope to experience the best while we and they are still around. But sometimes, sometimes you find one that's truly special, and you naively deny the restaurant life cycle, pretending that this particular delight will escape the typical restaurant fate and be around forever. And then-- when the inevitable comes-- the sadness is extra acute.

Such is the case with Elm Court Inn, the tiny restaurant in North Egrement, MA, which up until now held the coveted title of My Favorite Restaurant in the World. After my parents attempted to make New Year's Eve dinner reservations and encountered a disconnected phone line, we feared the worst-- and the sad fact was corroborated both visually and by a for-sale listing sealing the Inn's fate. The Elm Court had been around for so long... I don't know what happened. It just simply makes me sad.

So-- the world says goodbye to one of the finest restaurants I've ever encountered. If you'd like to read about what we'll never have again, click here and keep a box of tissues handy. And if you have a bunch of extra cash handy and would like to buy the Elm Court Inn and revive the restaurant with me, email me at lifewithfoodanddrink@gmail.com.

Until then, R.I.P. Elm Court Inn. You will be missed.

An unprecedented step for LWF&D: Breaking the paradigm at Opal

Dearest readers,

If you've been following this blog for a while, you'll know that only the best of the best receive Five Offset Spatula ratings. Typically, I take into account the whole experience in my evaluation, including service, atmosphere, even place settings and glassware. This means that usually only palaces of haute cuisine receive top ratings, because they're the ones able to provide the whole package.

But on Saturday night, my mind was changed. This dining experience (I use that term loosely, of course) took place at a bar-- not a gastropub, not a wine bar, but just a typical loud-music, beer-and-well-drinks bar called Opal, located on 2nd Avenue at 52nd St. I was with JT and the bro having a few leisurely drinks, and they decided to order a few dishes from the bar's bizarrely extensive menu. We sat in the mostly empty back room at a huge circular booth, listening to the pulsing music and watching a group of hilariously drunk forty-somethings dance spastically in the middle of the room. Then the food arrived.

They had ordered a margherita pizza and a basket of chicken strips and fries. I didn't want any of it. I had already eaten far too much that day and really wasn't hugry. But there, in the middle of the table, was a basket of fragrant golden fries. I couldn't stop myself.

I picked up a perfectly formed specimen-- slightly thicker than your typical shoestring but safely on the right side of the jacket barrier, alluringly speckled with coarse salt-- and popped it in my mouth. And... wow. Wow. Now, I don't eat french fries in quantity that often, but whenever a dining companion gets them I always have a taste (for scientific purposes, of course), which means I've tasted lots of fries in recent years. And I can safely say that these fries may well be the best I've ever tasted. They were piping hot, well salted, crunchy but not aggressively so, not mealy at all, delightfully potatoey... everything you've ever wanted in a french fry and possibly even a life partner. Consider my socks knocked off.

I am sockless. I am sans socks.

Pizza, half done

I quit while I was ahead and didn't try either the pizza or the chicken, which came with a mysterious tub of chili-inflected honey-mustard/thousand island dipping sauce, but JT and the bro reported that both were up to the high standard set by the fries. This, naturally, touched off a discussion of my rating system. Could Opal be a five OS place? Sure, it wasn't fine dining... there wasn't even really a waiter. But the portions were generous. The price was right. And the food, considered as specimens of each dish's respective kind, was spectacular. How could I deny the home of arguably the best french fries I've ever tasted its rightful five spats? I couldn't, and I can't. And there you have it, dear readers: Opal, the first non-upscale Five Offset Spatula restaurant on LWF&D.

Opal
251 E. 52nd Street, at 2nd Avenue
212-593-4321

Kellari Taverna: The flavor costs extra

The day after Christmas, my family continued a tradition of taking in dinner and a Broadway show during the holiday season. This year's feature was Young Frankenstein, and we preceded that with dinner at Kellari Taverna, a Greek restaurant a few blocks away from the theater.

Our group of five (parents, the bro, and my friend JR home from law school, the evening's special guest) was seated far into the large restaurant in a secluded corner. Our enormous table was rickety, sloshing drinks every time anybody leaned on it to stand up. But the restaurant itself is convivial, bright and classy and pleasantly upbeat. The bar area at the front would be an especially nice place to take in a drink and a few appetizers.

As JR, the bro, and I waited for the parents to join us, a runner brought over a basket of bread and a tray of complimentary mezes. On offer were olives (spectacular), roasted red pepper hummus (pretty good), and radishes (ick). I didn't try the bread, as I was trying (unsuccessfully...) not to fill up, but I will particularly commend the olives as among the best at any NYC restaurant. For what it's worth, Dad also liked the radishes.

Rare unsampled bread

A nice way to start a meal

Shortly after we placed our order, our round of appetizers made its way to the table. I had selected an order of pikilia, "housemade spreads" with pita bread, for the table. The spreads on offer were tzaziki, an eggplant spread, caviar mousse, and a feta spread flavored with what tasted like anchovies. I had had my eye on the eggplant spread, which was disappointing-- smoky, a bit slimy, rather bland, and the unappealing color of an elderly bowl of guacamole. The tzaziki was pretty standard; the caviar mousse made the bro actively recoil; and the feta spread was tasty but tainted with anchovies (at least from my perspective). I tried a tiny piece of pita for the heck of it, and it was definitely above par. But all in all I would not order the pikilia again.

Clockwise from bottom right: Eggplant, feta, tzaziki, caviar mousse

Solid fresh pita

For other apps, JR had chosen the "lightly pan fried" calamari. It was certainly fried well-- light and not greasy-- but JR reported that the squid itself was rubbery.

A good fry job can't entirely mask bad fish

Mom and Dad both had the Prasini salad. It was described on the menu as "hearts of romaine with scallions, dill, and a mild feta dressing." The appearance of the salad sparked a lively discussion on iceberg vs. romaine lettuce (this was clearly iceberg, for the record). But both parents liked the salad dressing.

Only the tip of the iceberg. Har har.

The bro had selected the spanakopita. Of all the appetizers (and probably all the dishes we ordered overall), this was the best. The phyllo was crisp and golden-brown, the filling was very tasty with large chunks of feta cheese, and the portion size was really generous. If I were to redo my own order, I probably would have gone with an order of spanakopita and nothing else.

The dinner's winner

Appetizers down, we were off to the entree course. Both JR and the bro had gone with the lamb chops (Paidakia), served with olive oil & oregano roasted potatoes. Once again, the portion here was huge, but both consumers said the lamb was nothing special. I'll also add that the potatoes looked like canned pears. Weird.

Lamb & pears?

Upon our waiter's definitive recommendation, my mom had gone for the char, which came atop a pile of horta (more on that later). This was a thick steak of "salmon's cousin," as the waiter described it, topped with a drizzle of some kind of sauce. Mom, fish lover that she is, definitely enjoyed this.

Fish, straight up

Dad had gone with an order of meatballs, an appetizer, which came with gravy and what looked like mashed potatoes in the middle. As he said, "If I made meatballs at home, they'd be like this." That's restaurant-goer-speak for "meh."

Just like home

For my own entree, I had chosen to combine two vegetable side dishes, an order of asparagus and an order of horta, or steamed wild mountain greens. The asparagus was very good, "lightly grilled" as promised and quite tasty. The horta, however, was a different story. As served, it was completely, utterly unseasoned, so the only flavor that came through was the bitter, slightly funky taste of the greens themselves. Now, I generally like greens of all kinds, but these were just gross. And I kept on trying to add flavor-- first with a generous squeeze of lemon, then with a few shakes of salt-- but you know when you keep trying to mask bad flavors with other flavors and ultimately end up with an even grosser concoction that still tastes insistently of the flavor you were trying to cover up? Yeah. That's what happened here. I gamely still ate about half of this deceptively large dish, because sometimes I'm just really stupid like that, and not surprisingly felt sick afterwards.

Nice thin spears, the way I like 'em

Just a bad idea

And here, dear readers, is where we transition from "eating a hearty dinner" to "forcing it." It was dessert time, and even though my stomach was already too full of a gross combination of various dishes, I had to partake (see also: being "really stupid like that"). My own selection was the baklava, which came garnished with two painfully underripe strawberry halves and swimming in a honey sauce. I do really like baklava, and this was tasty, but in my opinion part of the appeal of baklava is the light, flaky layers... which were completely done away with by this dish's dense, cylindrical shape. Nonetheless, the nutty filling packed in the middle combined with the honey sauce was very good. Cue food coma....now.

Would definitely be better in a flaky square

The bro had gone for the Galaktoboureko, also known as vanilla bean semolina custard with a phyllo crust and apple syrup. This dessert was very pretty, but my tiny taste (force force force) of the filling revealed a pronounced semolina taste, sort of like eating Cream of Wheat in cake form. It would probably have tasted better if I hadn't been bordering on nauseated at that point.

Definitely visually appealing

Mom and JR had each selected Sokolata, a chocolate souffle cake with halva mousse. The halva mousse caused a bit of a skirmish between the waiter and my mom (the waiter won), and when it arrived it was a bit of an odd texture-- sort of like a more solid semifreddo, or like mousse that someone had inadvertently put in the freezer for a bit. The chocolate cake itself was yummy and chocolatey, as all chocolate cake should be.

Like a halva mousse muffin

And with that we paid our bills, loosened our belts, and waddled stuffed-to-the-gills to the Hilton Theater to watch Young Frankenstein. I'm torn on my ultimate evaluation of Kellari Taverna-- I've been there once before, and I continue to like it, perhaps because the dining room itself is so fun and welcoming. But when you get down to it, the food really just isn't that great, and it's rather expensive, although the portion sizes are generous. The service can be hit-or-miss; this time we hit with a waiter who will go down in history as one of the most confident people I've ever met (someone with that much confidence about ANYTHING should really just not be a waiter). I think on balance Kellari is a three-Offset-Spatula place. If you order carefully, you can have a really good meal, but if you don't you'll end up with a horta-induced stomachache.

Kellari Taverna
19 W. 44th Street, between 5th and 6th Aves
212-221-0144

Do you like bread? Head to Bar Blanc

In a last hurrah before the holidays, I met my colleagues SW and SP at Bar Blanc in the West Village for an end-of-year celebratory dinner. It was early on a Tuesday evening, so the place was pretty much deserted when we got there. We settled comfortably into our table in the small, overwhelmingly white (ahem), modern dining room.

Our friendly waitress cheerfully gave us ample time to decide on our drink order (our heads weren't quite in the game yet, and we were taking a while). Our drink orders in, a bread man came by and offered us either a slice of plain white bread or a slice of olive bread. All three of us took the olive bread, which we dipped eagerly in a dish of standard olive oil in the center of the table.

Look at those beautiful big olives

Then our drinks arrived. We had each ordered a glass: SW and SP each selected a red blend, while I went for a tall glass of cava. In a nice touch, our server poured the glasses for us at the table, which makes the usually shameful act of ordering wine by the glass a classy production. That is, until your server empties the bottle of cava into your glass halfway through filling it, apologizes profusely, returns with a new bottle, and tops off the glass with a new bottle. For still wine, this wouldn't be a huge problem, but since it was early in the evening there's little chance that that bottle of sparkling wine had been opened that day... making my own glass a mixture of half-flat and half-aggressively-bubbly wine. I'm nit-picking here-- it was delicious, as all bubbly is. Plus, the glassware was quite nice.

It held lots

Once we had finished our slices of bread, the bread man came back and offered us each another slice, which we obligingly accepted. All three of us gobbled that down (another slice of olive bread, which was really, really good), and soon the bread man was back, offering another slice. At this point I dropped out of the game... I could see where this was going, and Janine's stomach can only take so many slices of bread at a time. SP and SW were game for one more round, accepting a third slice, but declined when the bread man returned once more after they had finished. And we all declined when he returned a FIFTH time to offer us bread late in the meal. All I can say is, I love bread so to me this was pretty awesome, but for people counting the fine points of restaurant service, perhaps five bread man appearances are a few too many for one dinner.

Before our entrees arrived, we were entertained by a tiny amuse-bouche of pickled tapioca and asian pear, all served in a diminutive soup-style spoon. It was a perfect one-bite teaser, full of interesting textures and unusual flavors.

Cute

Once our palates were primed, our entrees made their way to the table. SW had been counting on ordering the seared black cod, but when we arrived our waitress informed us that due to the blizzard in Massachusetts, they were out of cod (boo!!). So SW went with the halibut, which was served with cauliflower, king oyster mushrooms, grapefruit confit, and almond sauce. It was quite a pretty piece of fish, served atop a melange of ingredients encased in a flurry of foam. Despite the initial cod-related disappointment, SW seemed to like this dish, and as you can see she also wishes the readers of this blog halibut-associated peace.

Fish & more

SP had chosen the braised lamb shoulder orecchiette. It was quite delicious-looking-- the blanket of shaved parmesan covering the pasta was especially appealing. SP approved.

If the pasta had ears...

My own entree was the winter squash salad, which came with baby arugula, goat cheese, and walnut vinaigrette. I will go out on a limb and say this salad is one of the best I've ever eaten. The pieces of squash were tender and sweet; the microgreens were fresh; the two rectangular croutons were saturated in butter. But what made this salad pop were the tiny granules of salt sprinkled throughout, large enough to crunch but not overpowering. They just brought all the salad's flavors together. Spectacular.

Humble, but packs a punch

Entrees dispatched, we were on to dessert. Being a Southern girl through and through, SW went for the warm beignets with chocolate jam, passionfruit, and toasted cocoa bean ice cream. I tried a tiny taste of the passionfruit and the ice cream, and all were delicious. SW enjoyed these beignets, which are one of Bar Blanc's signature dishes.

Free-form fried goodness

After a lengthy discussion about foods that start with Q, both SP and I went with the quince crisp (N.B.: It is very difficult to say "quince crisp," especially after a glass of wine). This was a small dish of stewed quince, tender but still with a nice texture, studded with "wild oregon huckleberries" (not sure I've ever had huckleberries before), topped with crumb topping, and served with a scoop of fromage blanc ice cream. This dessert was small but delicious-- all the ingredients were top-notch, and as the ice cream melted into the fruit and crumbs below it became a creamy, soupy delight. I could have eaten an entire baking pan's worth of this.

Looks small. 'Cause it was.

Finally, after we had packed away the desserts, a runner brought over a plate of complimentary butter cookies. These were standard butter cookies, crumbly and rich-- a very nice touch.

A trio of powdered-sugar delights

We had a great meal at Bar Blanc. I would certainly return for the salad, which I'm still thinking about several days later, and it's good to know that there's a restaurant in NYC that aggressively tries to pack you as full of carbs as possible. And it's worth noting that for all the restaurant's pretense (most notably the austere, sort of fun-lacking atmosphere), the service was friendly and welcoming. For a nice dinner of any type, or just an occasion when you need some good food, I'd recommend Bar Blanc-- it's a relatively understated four-Offset-Spatula experience.

Bar Blanc
142 W. 10th Street
212-255-2330

Birthday surprises at Del Posto

Sunday evening marked the official end of my now six-month long birthday celebration. After many failed attempts to secure a decent (post-5:30PM reservation), I finally snagged a 6PM table for four at Del Posto, to which I had a generous birthday gift certificate courtesy of my parents. (Yes, I realize that in any other frame of reference 6PM does not constitute a "decent" reservation time.) So, on a frigid and icy evening, the Second Quadrumvirate of JT, AV, the bro, and me made its way down Tenth Avenue to the expansive and lovely dining room opposite Chelsea Market.

We were greeted by an army of friendly people. From the coat-check lady to the half-dozen people manning the host stand to the runners and waiters on the way to our table (located in a nice semi-private nook in the corner of the room), we must have been greeted by almost a dozen people before we had even sat down. The dining room itself is gorgeous-- tastefully decorated and enormous, with an opulent balcony and lots of soft textiles that keep the noise level down. The tables themselves are large and well-spaced, so each dining party has ample privacy.

Our waiter arrived at our table just as we were settling in and handed us all menus. Then he proceeded to deliver an inappropriately lengthy and semi-incomprehensible (read: with Italian accent) "tour" through the menu that left us much more confused than we were when he started. The moral of the story ended up being "order things from the menu." So we did.

We started with wine, of course, opting for a reasonably-priced bottle of light and bubbly prosecco from the tome-length and expensive wine list. The champagne flutes were also quite nice... I do love me a good champagne flute.

By far the most graceful form of drinking vessel

Shortly after we had ordered, as we waited for the wine to arrive, a platter of amuse bouches descended upon our table. The three tiny treats on offer included a cup of barley broth with chocolate (gross), a little sweet nibble of mascarpone cheese encased in some sort of candied nut (yummy), and a prosciutto panini stick (did not try, but this one received raves). Kudos for the variety here.

A nice way to start the meal

While the wine service was being performed, we attacked the bread basket, which had appeared just on the heels of the amuse bouches. I will say this: Del Posto has a truly superlative bread basket. It's huge, with five different kinds of warm, fresh artisinal bread and two kinds of spreads (rosemary lard and regular butter). I chose a light, herbed roll with an ephemeral crust and a more substantial multi-grain roll, both of which were among the best I've had. The basket also included mini baguettes, thin breadsticks, and olive rolls. The butter was quite soft and very spreadable, but apparently the lard didn't win many fans at our table. I'll also note that the butter and lard were, ahem, sort of grossly shaped. I'll provide the photograph and you all can judge for yourself.

Chock full of carbed goodness

This crisp crust shattered to reveal an exceptionally airy interior

There are several jokes I could make here, but I'll leave the creativity up to you

I'll pause here to note that each of us had only ordered one course, a fact that clearly upset our waiter, almost to the point of anger. My order, an appetizer, left him grasping for shreds of composure, almost desperately trying to convince me to order something else (he even returned to the table once more after the order was in to remind me that my order was small, and perhaps I should order something else. Not surprisingly, I held my ground on this one). Nonetheless, he did ultimately allow the order to go through, and a notably short amount of time passed after the bread basket before our entrees were in front of us.

The bro had ordered the Del Posto agnolotti, filled with parmesan and proscuitto. When the plate arrived, I believe his exact words were: "I tweaked." As you can see from the photographic evidence below, the dish was both 1) small; and 2) weird looking. He said it tasted fine, but it wasn't quite what anybody was expecting. And not in a good way.

I promise we did not alter this in any way before this photo was taken

JT and AV had decided to order two dishes and share, as is both common and socially acceptable in the case of two grown men. The first was a pasta dish, spaghetti rotti with sweet Maine shrimp and Piennolo tomatoes. This portion looked fairly ample, although once again the presentation was surprising (it was sort of shocking to me that they had cut up the spaghetti into small pieces. I thought that was a no-no?). Unlike the agnolotti, however, this pasta was highly approved by its consumers.

Matchstick spaghetti

The other guest star in this episode of Two Dudes Sharing was the grilled pork chop. This was also a substantial portion and was highly praised. AV particularly called out the carrots, which were caramelized and apparently quite tasty.

Bone wrapped in proscuitto was a bonus item

My own selection (upon the advice of the waiter) was the sunchoke crudo, which came with truffled fonduta and walnut gremolata. Once again, I was a combination of startled and puzzled by the plating. The shaved sunchoke looked like slices of deli ham (confirmation: it wasn't), and the random squiggles of stuff and sprinkled leaves all over the plate made it look as though the chef had just dug up a patch of the forest floor and put it on a plate. All in all, this dish was good, I guess, in that it had interesting flavors. But eating it didn't really feel like eating food, so much as participating in some sort of tasting experiment. More than anything I just sort of wondered how the chef came up with it. You know what I mean?

I mean, which part of this is the food?

In any case, the entrees were dispatched, and the empty plates were cleared in unison by four different runners. Shortly thereafter, the dessert menus arrived and yet another waiter appeared to take our dessert orders (note: he asked us to place our orders before every member of the party had even returned from the restrooms and looked at the menu. I suspect there was some scheme to turn our table very quickly, because the service was suspiciously prompt). We requested a little more time but ultimately placed the orders, and shortly the desserts were with us.

JT and the bro had both ordered the local apple crostada with champagne vinegar caramel and toasted oat gelato. This turned out to be a runaway winner-- both are big fans of apple pie, so this was right up their alley. I tried a taste and agreed that it was good, although the taste of the gelato was a bit bizarre.

As close to homestyle as you're gonna get

AV had selected the butterscotch semifreddo. This came with "grapefruit, crumbled sbrisolona and milk jam." Now, I know what grapefruit is; sbrisolona was beyond me (apparently it's a crumbly cake); and milk jam seems logically inconsistent. But the semifreddo itself was very good-- smooth and buttery.

Candied citrus strewn about

My dessert was the coconut panna cotta, with candied ginger and pineapple. This was good panna cotta-- not overpoweringly coconutty and with a velvety consistency. The pineapple pieces dotting the plate were also very good, but the clear gel-like substance anchoring the panna cotta didn't taste very good. I sort of wonder what it was.

Love the dried-pineapple mohawk

When the desserts were delivered, a plate of mignardises also arrived on the table. These were winners one and all: a semisweet brownie (could have used a bit more sugar, but I do love sugar); a shortbread cookie (quoth the bro: "Tastes like Chessmen"); candied almond covered in powdered sugar; tiny star-shaped butter cookie with sweet glaze; strawberry gelee (a.k.a. strawberry gusher, and by far the best gelee LWF&D has encountered in mignardise experience); and an apricot crumble square (the best one-- they should put a bigger version of this on their dessert menu). Overall a truly top-notch plate of mignardises, and once again the extensive variety is much appreciated.

This could easily be a full dessert on its own

Finally, we were finished with the sweet course and were presented with the check. I only call this out because it was, without peer, the classiest check I've ever seen in my life. Just look at it:

Almost makes you want to keep it. Almost.

And that brings us to a key point: price. Del Posto is extremely, almost hilariously expensive. Aside from the desserts ($15 apiece), the only item on the entire dinner menu under $20 is the green salad ($17). Now, that high price gets you a lot of things: a beautiful, serene dining room; incredibly spacious and classy bathrooms (DEFINITELY spend some time in there if you ever go to Del Posto); extra courses of amuse bouches and mignardises; a superlative bread basket; beautiful glassware; etc. etc. etc. But Del Posto falters in areas in which, for the price, you'd expect perfection: the service, which aspires to Eleven Madison Park-like flawlessness, is instead a bit awkward and almost claustrophobia-inducing; the pacing, which is too rapid for a "nice" meal; the plating, which ranges from pretty to downright bizarre; and the portion size, which could rightly anger any sane person. We certainly had a nice meal at Del Posto, which is unquestionably a fine dining destination. But you can get much more bang for your buck elsewhere in the city. While Del Posto is gunning to be a five-spatula place, based on our experience the hammer falls on four Offset Spatulas. With no half-spatulas, sometimes you have to take a stand.

Del Posto
85 10th Avenue, at 16th Street
212-497-8090

Billy's Fifth Anniversary: $1 cupcakes today!

Dear readers,

If you're around the city today, stop by Billy's Bakery (on 9th avenue between 21st and 22nd)-- in honor of their fifth anniversary, they're selling their delightful cupcakes for $1 each. N.B.: it's cold outside, so if you're looking to put on a few extra pounds to keep warm this winter, this is a GREAT way to do it. For more on Billy's, see here, here, and here.

Janine

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!

Dear readers,

I come to you with shattering and deeply, deeply disturbing news: NYC Icy is no more. I suspected something was amiss, since the store hasn't been open at all for the past month or so, but a walk-by this afternoon confirmed:

The saddest thing I've ever seen

I had valiantly tried to keep them afloat singlehandedly, but apparently my cup-a-day habit was not enough to pay Manhattan rents. The audible "NO!" I let out while walking alone on the sidewalk today barely touches the surface of my grief. NYC Icy, rest in peace: the world is worse off without you.

Veggies galore at Spring Street Natural

This afternoon I had the delightful privilege of having lunch with D and P from veggieplaces.co.uk, the Vegetarian site for which I'm a guest blogger. D and P are in NYC for a brief vacation and got in touch before they came, so we made plans to meet up at Spring Street Natural for lunch.

When I was interning in Soho a few years ago, SSN was the go-to lunch place, and I've been several times since then. As the name implies, the folks at SSN focus on natural/vaguely healthy foods and have a large number of vegetarian options on their menu. Their salads in particular are always huge and delicious (I was a particular fan of their herbed goat cheese salad, which is no longer on the menu, sadly).

Today, we started with their yummy bread basket, which includes two types of bread. Their seeded brown bread is really good, studded with sunflower, sesame, and flax seeds and particularly delicious with the spreadable butter. The other option is an orange-colored quickbread-- I estimate it to be pumpkin, but I really have nothing to back that up. It's almost cake-like in its texture, although a little less sweet, but rich enough that it doesn't even really need butter.

Bread with seeds and bread like cake

For an entree, P ordered the scrambled tofu, which came with a small mesclun salad and a hockey puck of brown rice covered in some sort of sauce. P said the scramble was relatively good, and you have to give SSN extra points for including such a creative dish on their menu.

Looks like eggs, but truly tofu

D had selected the veggie burger. This came with both a small mesclun salad and a side of fries, which both P and D enjoyed. D said the veggie burger was quite good, which is high praise coming from a vegetarian-food expert and former restaurant owner.

Veggie burger, buried in garnishes

My own selection was the steamed veggies, which came on a bed of brown rice along with a spinach-herb dressing. I asked for the dressing on the side and used a bit to season the veggies, which were well-cooked and tasty. There was a good variety in there-- broccoli, cauliflower, carrots, perhaps a few too many peapods for my taste, and a leafy green that looked like collards. With the flavorful dressing, this was a darn good dish (I promise... I know steamed veggies don't sound that great), and there was a large serving of brown rice to provide some heft to those with larger appetites.

Beautiful veggies bathed in light

All in all, I like Spring Street Natural for a good, healthy lunch. The dining room is bright and loud-- not highly atmospheric but certainly gets the job done. A similar rating could be given to the servers, who leave much to be desired in terms of the usual niceties of the job but usually succeed in bringing the food to the table. I wouldn't necessarily hit SSN for dinner, but as I said for a filling lunch it definitely works. It's a solid three Offset Spatula joint, good for vegetarians and health-oriented meat-eaters alike.

Spring Street Natural
62 Spring Street at Lafayette
212-966-0290

A little bit of everything at Bar Stuzzichini

On Saturday night, I scooped up my battered post-office-party body and headed down to the Flatiron district. My destination was Bar Stuzzichini, an Italian small-plates/tapas restaurant that I've been meaning to try for a while. I met my dining companions, AV and P, in the awkward entryway, and we were told our table was five minutes away from being ready, so we grabbed seats at the bar and ordered drinks (for me, a prosecco served in a generous two-glass portion; for AV and P, a Birra Moretti apiece). The five minute wait stretched to ten or fifteen, but finally we were fetched from the busy bar and brought, along with our drinks, to a semi-secluded booth, where we settled in for the night.

Stylish glass, with beaker of extra prosecco

A branded glass, so it HAS to be good.

We were given an amusing verbal "tour" through of the menu by our waiter, who was friendly but seemed a little uncomfortable in his position as waiter (case in point: his response to an inquiry of whether there was calamari on the menu was "not so much." Right.). We puzzled over the several hundred possible permutations that could be created from the menu options, finally made a decision, and placed our order.

In the meantime, there was bread. A runner brought over a strawberry-style wooden basket lined with an awkward piece of butcher paper. It was filled with pretty standard white bread with a crisp crust, and it went well with the olive oil poured from the bottle sitting on our table. Nothing superlative, but a good start nonetheless.

Bread, in brown paper and strawberry basket

And then our first courses arrived. We had selected the Stuzzichini Misti, a selection of five of their Italian tapas offerings meant to feed 2-3 people. As I was informed by an anonymous member of our dining trio that I "don't count as a person" in terms of the amount of food I typically consume, the 2-3 person designation seemed about right. Our vegetarian selections arrived first: we had chosen the melazane, or marinated eggplant; the zucchini alla scapece; and the carciofi, or fried artichokes. Of this bunch, the artichokes were the standout, crisp and salty and addictive. The eggplant and zucchini were both tasty, tender with a liberal application of olive oil and garlic.

Marinated eggplant, with explicit grill marks

Zucchini, beautifully presented

Spiky and delicious fried artichokes

Then the non-veg stuzzichini appeared. AV and P had chosen the meatballs and the steamed clams; the meatballs came in a tasty tomato sauce (which I sampled with the extra bread that was cheerfully delivered upon request), and the tiny clams rested in a bowl of broth. Apparently both dishes were pretty good, although I guess they weren't very interesting to me because upon examining my pictures from the evening I realize I completely forgot to photograph them. Cue mental image of me single-mindedly sucking down vegetables while contemplating my status as non-person and ignoring everything else.

Annnnnd on to the entree course. As a widely acknowledged expert in Italian cuisine, P chose the gnocchi all'Amatriciana as a test of the kitchen's skill (bad restaurant = bad, bad gnocchi). But apparently Bar Stuzzichini, or BS as I like to think of it, passed-- the gnocchi were approved with a (literal) thumbs-up.

Tiny gnocchi under a parmesan flurry

AV selected the night's pasta special, some sort of composed pasta involving eggplant, cheese, some sort of meat, tomato sauce, and ziti stacked Lincoln-log style into a brick. Though I did not taste the special, it was also met with a positive review, and the intricate cross-hatch ziti stacking lent the dish an amusing air. Or maybe that's just me.

"Lasagna-style" pasta in a spreading pool of sauce

My own entree was the arugula and ricotta salata salad. This ended up being surprisingly, almost startlingly delicious. I do love both arugula and ricotta salata, but both ingredients were excellent in this salad, and the vinagrette was light and tasty. Plus, unlike most of the other dishes (the stuzzichini especially), the portion here was generous. I'd highly recommend this salad and would certainly order it again on a repeat visit.

Tasty shreds of salty cheese and peppery arugula, a perfect match

Of course, given that BS is a small-plates restaurant, we had room for dessert. While the group had a collective hankering for tiramisu, the brief dessert menu included no tiramisu (bad! bad BS!). So we settled for two orders of orange olive oil cake and one chocolate mousse.

The chocolate mousse, AV's choice, was a rich, coffee-inflected mousse packed into a cold ice cream dish, which itself was perched on another square of that bizarre brown butcher paper (why??), and topped with chocolate crumbles. The mousse was tasty and extremely chocolatey. It was good on its own but best when paired with bites of the olive oil cake.

Intense, cold, fluffy chocolate

....and more brown paper.

The cake dessert a huge hunk of olive-oil cake accompanied by a scoop of fresh, lightly sweetened whipped cream. The cake had a large, smooth crumb and a faint orange aftertaste; the confectioners-sugar-dusted crust was by far the best part of the slice. A forkful of cake along with a bit of chocolate mousse and a dollop of whipped cream composed the perfect dessert bite.

Tasty cake with the two best accompaniments, sugar and cream

Overall, I really liked BS. The food was solid (the arugula salad being a surprise winner), the service was friendly, and our booth was nicely secluded. The restaurant itself had good energy, from the lively bar back to the packed dining room. And there are rumors that the bathrooms sport black toilets, although my own visit to the ladies' revealed nothing more than a disappointing run-of-the-mill white toilet. Other reviewers have remarked that BS's food is a bit small and a bit expensive, even for New York standards, and I agree for the most part-- although my salad and certainly the olive oil cake were both very large. But the bottom line is if you visit BS, you'll likely have a very good meal and a lot of fun. And for that, it deserves four Offset Spatulas.

Bar Stuzzichini
928 Broadway, between 21st and 22nd Streets
212-780-5100

Sweet, sweet sugar at Dousoeur Patisserie

A week or so ago, I discovered that a brand-new French patisserie had opened just a couple of blocks from my apartment (thanks, Serious Eats). I was determined to check it out, and after a few false starts, last Sunday I finally made it over there.

I opened the door to Dousoeur Patisserie and immediately noticed how small it was. This place was seriously, seriously tiny: there was a pastry display case on one end of the room, three small tables, an end-board with some pastry-wrapping materials, and that's pretty much it. When I entered, two of the tables were occupied with patrons, but there didn't seem to be anybody working there. I poked around obnoxiously for a few moments, alternately standing awkwardly in the middle of the room and inserting my head through the swinging kitchen doors. There seemed to be two people in the kitchen producing food of some sort, so I figured if I waited long enough one of them would emerge. Sure enough, after about five minutes, a smiling (thoroughly French) woman entered the tiny dining room to help me with my order.

I asked several questions about the pastries on offer, and while she answered them patiently, I basically had no idea what she said. So I picked out three that looked yummy. You can't really go wrong with French pastry, so I figured I'd take a gamble.

With my pastries in hand, the woman led me around the corner towards the kitchen to process my credit card (at $5-$6 apiece, these pastries aren't cheap... it will be interesting to see how this place does in a recession). Mired in the paying process, I didn't notice another woman who had scooped up the pastries and was furiously wrapping them in the most elaborate food-encasement system I've ever seen. It reminded me a lot of this scene from Love Actually. Since I was just taking the pastries home for, ahem, personal consumption, I didn't need such complex wrapping, but she was too far gone to stop. So I emerged from the shop toting a bizarre pyramidal contraption with (ostensibly) three pastries inside.

How do you carry this thing? Seriously!

Once home, after dinner with AV, we furiously unwrapped the paper and dove into the pastries inside. They looked a little something like this:

A trio of delights

Turned out they were all, in one way or another, meringue based. The fruit-and-cream thing was delicious, with two light meringue wafers, a swirl of heavy whipped cream inside, and blackberries dotting the interior.

Side view-- glimpse the blackberry

The other two pastries were layered with crisp meringue and sweet mousse. The coconut pastry had light coconut throughout layered all over the sticky surface. The chocolate pastry had chocolate mousse and snappy chocolate jimmies (a.k.a. sprinkles) all over. While I tend to eschew chocolate in my pastries (oftentimes they're just too rich), this chocolate mousse bomb was the surprise winner of the bunch. The mousse was light and airy, and the jimmies were sugary and spectacular.

Dual meringue orbs

The verdict: Dousoeur Patisserie is a little bit weird and a little bit expensive. But the women working there are very nice, and the pastries are incredibly delicious. So if you have an extra $5 to spare, stop by and grab a bite. You'll leave on happy sugar high.

Dousoeur de Paris
652 Tenth Avenue, at 46th Street
646-596-3460

Pork, pork, and more pork at Irving Mill

On Tuesday evening, I met my team from work at Irving Mill for a project-end dinner extravaganza. I had heard good things about Irving Mill, particularly their burger (you know, for other members of the group), so I was excited to test out what the place had to offer.

First off-- it's a very pretty space. It's rustically decorated, has good energy but isn't not too loud, and has several different seating areas to break up the room. The hostess was extraordinarily flexible with our party as we adjusted the numbers and seating time right up until we finally started to trickle into the restaurant one by one. They seated our incomplete party happily (no attitude there, ahem, Kashkaval), and we began ordering appetizers.

In the meantime, a runner brought over a few platters of bread. The bread was really, really good-- tender and chewy on the inside with a good crust, all set off perfectly by the soft salted butter. I could easily have eaten several pieces of this had I a) been hungrier and b) not been anticipating the flood of dishes to come.

Yummy, yummy bread

One by one, the apps started to arrive. First-- the marinated olives. These were tasty, fresh olives, not drowning in olive oil (which is nice), and dangerously poppable. I ate a significant quantity of these.

Covered in little olivey bits

Then came the pork toasts with egg salad and caviar. These were deeply friend and suspiciously square. General agreement was that they were tasty, but I must admit I am wary of anything that looks like a filet-o-fish sandwich at McDonald's, even if it has caviar on top.

They look like coasters

The salt and pepper pork ribs were next. Surprisingly, especially at a restaurant that is so pork-centric as Irving Mill, these weren't all that popular. I'm not sure why-- maybe it was something about gnawing on a bone at a work function, but whatever the reason, there were ribs remaining at the end of the night.

The last kid picked in dodgeball

The group also ordered the crudo of fluke, which came with beet tartare, pecans, and grapes. The fish lovers among us had quite positive things to say about this dish. Props to Irving Mill for diversifying its portfolio with this fish offering.

This pretty crudo wasn't just a fluke. Or WAS IT? Yuk yuk yuk.

Annnnd... back to pork. Perhaps not surprisingly, the spicy pulled pork sandwiches on potato buns were wildly popular. I mean, who doesn't like pulled pork? Except for me, I mean. But that doesn't count.

Porky innards on fluffy buns

As another concession to haters (i.e., vegetarians) like me, we ordered the eggplant and ricotta bruschetta. Sadly, this was disappointing. The bread was thick and had clearly been toasted but was now slightly soggy. The ricotta had absolutely no flavor, and the eggplant was also oddly flavorless and a bit chewy. Perhaps some sort of spice would have livened this up-- or some sort of change in texture (some sauce?) or temperature (the slices were tepid when they arrived).

So sad, as I love eggplant, ricotta, AND bread

So much for the appetizer course, and on to the entrees. For mine, I had selected the spinach, baby shittake, and artichoke salad with tomatoes and pecorino (dressing on the side). Sadly, there were several problems with this salad. First of all, there were no artichokes, something I just realized right now when looking back over the menu descriptions. Second, the mushrooms were gross-- huge chunks of basically raw mushroom, not seasoned, not cooked, not sliced, nothing. The tomatoes were standard, and the pecorino was good but paltry. So mainly this salad tasted like raw spinach. The dressing was mostly oil and didn't add much. Definitely wouldn't recommend this menu item.

Where, oh where, are the artichokes?

Other people were more successful in their entree selections. SG had selected the sunchoke and hazelnut soup to start, and I sniped several tastes of this delicious, incredibly creamy, hearty, and filling soup. I wish I had ordered this, frankly.

Stunningly beautiful AND delicious

SG followed up the soup with the herb and parmesan chicken with artichoke barigoule and black olives, which he shared with ES in exchange for some of her Loup de Mer (which came with quinoa, preserved lime, walnuts, and soybean). Both dishes were declared delicious.

Chicken, with some artichoke action going on underneath

Gorgeous loup de mer on a smear of green

DC had selected the all-important burger, which he thoroughly enjoyed. My only (vicarious) gripe with the burger is that the portion of fries was tiny, and they were the kind I don't like as much (skin-on wedges as opposed to crispy shoestrings). But DC approved, and since he was eating it, that's what matters.

Burger hiding behind fries

The Niman Ranch Bavette Steak also made an appearance at our table. Didn't get much of a review on this one, but at least it looked pretty.

Well carved

The surprise star of the meal, at least from my perspective, was the side of mac & cheese PB ordered. He offered me a taste, and I ended up sniping a good portion of this (sorry PB!). Yes, there were pork rinds in here (natch), but I picked them out and focused on the pasta and cheese. I haven't eaten much mac & cheese in the past few years, but good lord, this stuff was heavenly. The pasta was fully cooked-- none of this "al dente" BS that always ruins good mac & cheese-- and the sauce was mild and thick and rib-sticking. This is certainly the best mac & cheese I've had in a very, very long time, possibly ever, and I might venture to nominate this humble side as the best mac & cheese in the city. Take issue with that designation? Prove me wrong, people. Prove me wrong.

Oh, sweet and lovely mac & cheese, how I miss thee

I wasn't able to stay for the entire dinner, so I missed the dessert course. But during the time I was there, we certainly had a good time at Irving Mill. Aside from minor service mishaps (involving the mis-pouring of red wine all over the table and onto members of our party), the experience was delightful, and for lovers of pork, the food was spectacularly porky. If the vegetarian food (the bruschetta, the salad) had been as good as the meat courses, Irving Mill could be a four Offset Spatula restaurant, but from my perspective I think it will have to settle for three. If you love pork, go to Irving Mill and go (ahem) hog-wild. If you like mac & cheese, go try that beautiful dish. But if neither of those appeals, there are probably better options for you.

Irving Mill
116 E. 16th Street, near Union Square East
212-254-1600

A brush with greatness at Tabla's 10th Anniversary party

Late last week, I received a surprise phone call from my friend AR at Union Square Hospitality Group (the illustrious owners of such awesome NYC food establishments as Union Square Cafe, Eleven Madison Park, Tabla, Shake Shack, etc.). He wanted to know if I wanted to join him at Tabla's 10th anniversary party Monday evening. Hmmmm, did I? I thought for a while, weighing the pros and the long, long list of cons, and finally gave up and agreed. I figured I'd take one for the team. And by "the team" I mean myself. And by "take one" I mean "do something immensely enjoyable and thoroughly awesome."

So on a chilly Monday evening, I met AR at the bar at Almond, a newish restaurant in the old Borough Food and Drink space on 22nd Street. We caught up at the bar while munching on a few appetizers. The arugula, beets, and roquefort salad was quite tasty, with the candied walnuts playing a starring role. I liked the multi-colored beets-- a nice touch-- but thought they could have been cooked a little bit more (as I quote one of the Foo Fighters on Top Chef two weeks ago: they were a bit "al dente-- meaning not cooked all the way through").

Looks like orange supremes, but actually golden beets

Next we tried the cauliflower gratin. This ended up being sort of like macaroni and cheese, except with cauliflower in place of the macaroni and a thin cheesy sauce. The bread crumb crust on top was tasty, and the little stone pedestel the bartender set up on which to perch the gratin was very cool.

Faux mac 'n' cheese

Finally, we went for the cheese plate. I'm not sure which cheeses were included here-- there was definitely a chevre, some sort of brie-like soft cheese, perhaps a hunk of parmesan and a bit of blue cheese, but I don't know any more specifics than that. The accompaniments were delightful as well, adding dried fruit, nuts, and figs stewed in red wine to the mix as well as buttered toasts. A good cheese plate overall, although it would be nice if they specified the types of cheese at some point in the cheese-plate-ordering cycle.

Busy, and rustic

After we had sampled all three apps, we packed things up and dashed over to Tabla to join the party. On the way in we bumped into the GM of Gramercy Tavern (swoon, swoon), which was quite awesome in itself. Finally, we made it into the restaurant. I've never been to Tabla, and for most of the party I stood around admiring the incredibly beautiful space. Downstairs is the Bread Bar, an incredible room with colorful, playful details such as the conical light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. Upstairs, the dining room was cleared of all tables, most of which usually center around the circular balcony that peeks down over the Bread Bar. The restaurant is simply stunning, with lots of different levels, a beautiful floor, and decorative touches all around.

And then, of course, there was the food. Runners dashed around offering tiny, beautiful plates of food, which we grabbed, photographed, and gobbled. Below is a sampling of the delights:

Oxtail on tapioca pearls

Shellfish salad

An Indian-spiced onion ring. That's my hand.

Pumpkin soup (delicious) with tiny floating pepitas

Crabcake on some sort of guacamole-like puree

Meatloaf (?), next to an Indian spice installation

Naan! Dripping with ghee and tasting of chewy cornmeal. Accompanied by spicy tomato dipping sauce, which was FANTASTIC

While sampling these culinary delights, we wandered around the room greeting USHG luminaries, from the chefs and GM at Tabla to the GM at Eleven Madison Park (triple swoon!). I couldn't stay long so dashed out just as Danny Meyer himself was arriving, but even the small taste I got was surreal. And I'll add that Tabla is an incredible place-- the food was spectacular, and the space itself is stunning. I can't wait to return, even absent the food celebrity set.

Almond
12 E. 22nd Street, between Broadway and Park Avenue
212-228-7557

Tabla
11 Madison Avenue
212-889-0667

Fondue and attitude at Kashkaval

On Saturday night, BL and I made plans to grab dinner at Kashkaval, a combination wine/cheese/tapas bar and general store on 9th ave. I had heard good things about the place before, but it doesn't take reservations, so I hadn't yet summoned up the reserves to try to eat there. But apparently the time had come, so we made plans to meet there for an early dinner.

I arrived around 6:30 and asked for a table for 2. The host, a somewhat surly older man, told me they didn't have any tables for two available and it might be "eh, a half hour or so." So I turned around to leave and was just about out the door when he called out to the waiting group that he did indeed have a table for two-- who wanted it? I claimed that table like the last Tickle Me Elmo in a Toys R Us in 1996 and was led to the back of the restaurant.

Now, notice that BL is not in the picture yet. To get the table, I had promised the host that he was "five minutes away." Then when I finally sat down, I initiated a flurry of semi-threatening text messages imploring BL to, ahem, hasten his arrival. Unfortunately, he was in a cab trying to negotiate early December Saturday evening crosstown traffic, which meant he was somewhat more than five minutes away. Alternately texting madly and pretending to be deeply engrossed in the menu, I managed to fend off the host's annoyed glares and keep the table until BL finally arrived.

Once he got there, we were ready to go. The menu is a weird mash-up of Middle Eastern/Mediterranean food, the odd Mexican dish (guacamole?), and of course that ubiquitous Swiss standby, fondue. We decided to share a sampler platter of six "Cold Mediterranean Tapas"; in addition, BL went for the Kashkaval fondue and a bottle of hard cider listed on our check cryptically as "other beer."

The sampler platter arrived first. After much agonizing (serious paralysis of choice), we decided on hummus, baba ghanoush, eggplant caponata, roasted brussels sprouts, olives, and artichoke dip. The platter came with a large basket stuffed full of warm, thin pita; while yummy at first, the bread somehow hardened into bizarrely crusted while still somewhat pliant pita. For the most part, the tapas selections were quite good: the caponata was full of soft eggplant and tomatoey flavor; the baba ghanoush was flavorful but not overly smoky; the hummus was good (but once you've had the best hummus ever, nothing else really comes close); the brussels sprouts were well caramelized and quite good; the olives were standard (our assortment came with a bizarre red olive, which upon closer inspection--i.e., consumption--turned out to be a cherry tomato); the artichoke dip was mediocre. It was all high quality and quite filling-- tasty but definitely not blow-you-away fare.

Clockwise from top: Eggplant caponata; brussels sprouts; artichoke dip; hummus; baba ghanoush; olives

Pita bread, in its better moments

BL's kashakaval fondue (turns out kashkaval is a type of cheese) was also yummy. It came in a cast-iron pot perched atop a sterno, accompanied by a basket of cubed baguettes and two of those fabulous fondue forks. I took a bite, and it was quite cheesy and delicious, and it successfully avoided tasting too strongly of wine, one of the most serious and common pitfalls of fondue.

Turns out fondue doesn't photograph that well

Bread for dippin'

We finished up, and being incredibly stuffed decided to skip dessert and vacate their precious table. Kashkaval is definitely a cute place-- there's a cheese/prepared foods counter at the front with an old-fashioned apothecary feel (with the big glass jars and all that), which gives way to a very atmospheric wine-bar type place in the back (lots of wood, wine bottles lining the walls, etc.). The food is good and relatively reasonably priced but not especially superlative-- most of it is stuff you can find in various other places around town. And Kashkaval definitely has attitude, although once you got past the anal host, the servers were laid-back (read: not especially attentive). While I'm definitely glad I went, I wouldn't necessarily go out of my way to go back. If Kashkaval ever decided to take reservations, I'd consider a revist and the addition of one Offset Spatula, but as it stands now it's a pretty standard three Offset Spatula place.

Kashkaval
856 Ninth Avenue, between 55th and 56th Streets
212-581-8282

Aroma does it again

On Friday evening, AV and I headed to one of my favorite places in the city-- Aroma Kitchen & Wine Bar. I've reported on this place before (see here and here), but I always like to come back because it's such a welcoming and enjoyable experience.

We arrived several minutes late for our 8PM reservation, as there was lots of Friday evening traffic (and we were in a cab... Hi Mom!), but the staff at Aroma was unperturbed. We were shown to a tiny table near the door, which was cold but cozy. Once settled in, we looked at the menu (which has been updated since the last time I was there, hooray!) and listened to a lengthy recitation of specials. We also, of course, dove into their wine list, which is by far the silliest and most approachable wine list I've ever encountered. We chose a sparkling red on the basis of its description ("raspberry mist... first kiss"). It was dangerously delicious, sweet and easy to drink, like fizzy Welch's grape juice that makes you happier with every sip.

As we drank our wine, a runner brought over their delicious bread basket along with a dish of olives resting in good olive oil. Their bread is same as ever-- crusty with a chewy interior and thoroughly delicious with the olive oil. Yum.

Bread erupting out of tiny bowl, with olives in background

Our entrees arrived quite promptly. AV had ordered the steak, a special, which came with a bed of wilted greens and roasted potatoes. He pronounced it delicious and particularly well-cooked, arriving just at the requested temperature.

Steak draped in... prosciutto?

My own entree was a new salad offering: arugula with marinated artichokes, sauteed royal trumpet mushrooms, and toasted walnuts, all under a blanket of parmesan cheese. You may remember that my previous reviews of Aroma have bemoaned their lack of a "serious" salad, one that was interesting and creative and filled you up appropriately. Well, here it is. This salad was truly spectacular-- the ingredients were all fresh and cooperated well on the plate, and the portion was ample. I would highly, highly recommend this salad, and I would return to Aroma just to try it again. Success!

Incredibly tasty salad

We were both full from the food (and perhaps the bubbles?), so we skipped dessert and lingered at the table to finish the wine, finally paying and skipping out into the frigid night. Aroma has most certainly kept its four Offset Spatula designation-- the food is great, the atmosphere is welcoming and calming, the service is friendly and attentive, and the wine list is worth a visit in itself. If you're looking for a place to visit with a date, a group of friends, a gaggle of coworkers, or any configuration of people in your life, head over for a meal or just a glass of wine. You will certainly be happy you did.

Aroma
36 E. 4th Street, between Bowery and Lafayette
212-375-0100