Back to the Billy's classics

The other day, after spending much of my day wrist-deep in frosting, I just craved a cupcake, darn it. And even though I usually go for the more exotic offerings at Billy's-- the red velvet, the carrot-- for some reason I just wanted a classic vanilla-vanilla cupcake. And so a classic cupcake I got.

It got a little squished in transit, but it's still so cute, no?

Man, what makes cupcakes so good? Probably the fact that it's just pure butter and sugar, but still. This classic yellow cake was incredibly light, almost ethereal, and the crown of vanilla frosting was generous and lip-smackingly sweet. I gobbled this cupcake in a few bites and could have eaten about three more (but didn't!). Gotta love it.

Lots of frosting there

Billy's Bakery
184 Ninth Avenue and 75 Franklin Street
212-647-9958

What's up with Ciro?

I just passed by Ciro, the Italian joint on the corner of Eighth Ave and 49th, and found all the windows papered over. The place has been there forever-- many years, at least-- and I've only been there once, for various reasons I'll leave off this blog. But back to the situation: Not only is there paper on the windows, but there's a sign on the door proclaiming "We are closed for vacation and will re-open next week." Eh? In my book, usually a vacation doesn't necessitate window-papers (and which week is "next" week, anyway?), so either we're looking at a gut reno (possible) or a new resto a'comin' (probable). Stay tuned...

Check that paper

What games are you up to, "Management"?

Expensive but spectacular food at Lincoln

As you may have noticed, I do my fair share of dining out, and cheap bastard/points junkie that I am, I try to make as many reservations as I can through Opentable. Because Opentable means Opentable points, and Opentable points mean Opentable dining cheques (yes, with a que, not a ck). They're basically free money to spend like cash at any restaurant that takes Opentable reservations. So with a $50 dining cheque to my name, I decided to make a last-minute, midweek reservation at an absurdly expensive restaurant and blow it all on myself. Because really, how often do you get to do that?

Well, if you're thinking absurdly expensive restaurant that takes Opentable reservations, look no further than Lincoln, the new Jonathan Benno outpost at Lincoln Center. It's been acclaimed for its architecture, but reviews on the food have been mixed. So what did I find?

In short, a beautiful dining room, showstopping food, and tepid service. (And, um, high prices. Did I mention that?) The room is sleek and mostly glass, offering expansive views of the Lincoln center courtyard, 65th Street, and the open kitchen, depending on where you look.

Service, however, wasn't as sleek as the views. My waiter rushed me in ordering, despite the fact that I had a very early reservation in a nearly empty restaurant, and didn't seem thrilled at my salad order; nor was he happy to see the dining cheque at the end (regardless of my 32% tip on the pre-tax total...and the fact that the cheque is apparently just like cash--??). Fortunately, much of my interaction was with a runner/water-filler/quasi-waiter (I couldn't quite figure his role out), who was friendly and personable and all-around awesome.

But what you really care about is the food, right? Right. As soon as I sat down, I was offered a couple of pieces of flatbread in a creative holding contraption-- think sideways desktop file holder--and a dish of chile breadsticks. Both were rather forgettable, but they whet my palate for the voluptuous and lip-smacking glass of Erbaluce I ordered, which is incidentally one of my favorite wines and one you rarely see on by-the-glass menus.

Some crunchy carbs to ease you into the meal

Erbaluce-- it's a pretty color, to boot

And just as I was about to be disappointed with the mediocre bread offerings, I was offered a choice of three REAL breads: a sesame slice, a white rustic slice, and sundried tomato focaccia. Is there even a thought process there? Focaccia, please! They offered a small dish of white-bean paste, which was smooth and mild, and a small tub of floral olive oil, which was some of the most vibrant and flavorful olive oil I've ever tasted. The focaccia itself was outstanding, among the best bread offerings I've had: super-oily in the best way possible, with an incredibly stretchy interior, a few bits of sun dried tomato for flavor, and coarse salt scattered across the top. Ohhhhghghghgh drool.

Om nom nom nom nom nom

Oh, and then they brought over the day's assaggi, which is their equivalent of an amuse-bouche. This was a tiny fried pasta parcel filled with pureed squash, kind of like an empanada. It was fresh-from-the-fryer hot, subtly sweet, and entirely addictive.

Despite appearances, not a Totino's Pizza Roll

Yes, there is focaccia salt on my thumb

Finally, the main course: the Insalata Verde Mista. This was a pile of delicate mixed greens atop a few well-roasted vegetables: a roasted red and yellow pepper, a sliver of tender eggplant, an artichoke heart, and a tiny bit of fennel. All vegetables were spiced and oiled and given as much flavor as is possible to lend to garden vegetables.

The veggies are hidden, but they're there

But who are we kidding, this whole deal is but a lead-up to the dessert course. There are several appealing options on the Lincoln dessert menu, and while I pondered the Tiramisu (described as "tiramisu meets creme brulee"--hmmm...) as well as the chocolate-lover's Zuccotto, when it came time to decide I went straight for the Crostata di Mele. Out of left field, I know; it's not something I'd usually order, but by gosh, I wanted an apple tart.

And it was a fabulous choice, if I do say so myself. This delight consisted of a butter-cake-like base covered with caramel-cooked apples, all topped with the perfect buttery crumb topping. The cake sat on a smear of pastry cream and was matched perfectly with a quenelle of mascarpone gelato, cool and sweet without competing with the apples' flavor. A bite that included gelato, butter cake, stewed apple, crumb topping, and pastry cream was a big bite indeed-- but as close to pastry perfection as I've had in a long while. And it's worth noting that the portion was huge, definitely enough for two to share (or, you know, for one of me).

Best. Apple. Tart. EVER.

Finally, the sated diner is left with a plate of mignardises. There was some sort of caramel cream cookie sandwich (not my favorite); a take on the Milano, with butter cookies sandwiching semisweet chocolate (surprisingly also not as good as hoped); a sesame biscotto (exactly as you'd expect it to taste); a gianduja chocolate (a grown-up take on the Reese's peanut butter cup, with a hazelnut butter base crowned with chocolate and topped with a candied hazelnut); and finally, the breakout star of the collection, a pistachio-marzipan confection that was nutty, chewy, and berry-inflected all at once.

That homely green thing was the best

Phew. There was a lot of food, and nearly all of it was quite good or better. But you know what the best part of the evening may have been? Just sitting there, watching Jonathan Benno in his open kitchen, witnessing the cooks moving smoothly, listening to the controlled hubbub, and basically being privy to the action of a high-quality restaurant. I know I'm a bit of a fine dining groupie, but I loved it.

My meal-- appetizer, glass of wine, dessert, came to $43 pre-tax. Yes, that's ridiculous, although with all the extras they throw your way, you get quite a bit of food. And if you happen to have a $50 dining check to fritter away somewhere, Lincoln is pretty much the perfect place to do it. You'll get a four Offset Spatula meal and a front-row seat to the action in the kitchen.

Lincoln Ristorante
142 W. 65th Street, between Amsterdam and Broadway
212-359-6500

Shake Shack's Gianduja custard is as delectable as expected

So, yes, it's cold out, but has that ever stopped me from eating ice cream? No ma'am. So last Tuesday, off I went to the local Shake Shack to try one of the several enticing flavors on the January custard calendar, one of my personal favorites, Gianduja.

First off, there was no line (YESSSS). Second, the cashier was classic Danny Meyer: smiley, friendly, helpful, eager to please (YESSSS). Third, she gave me a sample of the Gianduja that was entirely swoonworthy. And so, minutes later, I had a small cup of half-Gianduja, half-vanilla.

Sample. Yum.

It was the perfect combo. The plain vanilla flavor contrasted perfectly with the rich, hazelnutty, chocolatey Gianduja, which could certainly give Nutella a run for its money. I gobbled it down while sitting obliviously at the communal table, surrounded by people housing burgers and fries. It was pretty much perfect.

The perfect combo

Shake Shack
Locations around the city

Mail-order frozen cake? A follow-up

So I told you about the mail-order caramel cake from Caroline's Cakes. And I told you that, apparently, you can thaw it and refreeze it many times to just steal a slice or two whenever you want. And I believe I also told you that I was skeptical.

Well, last weekend I tried the first re-thaw. I pulled the cake, with slice missing from my initial forays the week before, out of the freezer and left it on the counter for a few hours. I had wrapped it loosely in plastic wrap and put it in its tin, anticipating that the whole thing would taste like freezer once it thawed for the second time.

I crept in after dinner to steal another slice, and once again I was blown away. It was exactly the same as the first time-- same crumbly, dry-ish but still tasty vanilla cake, same heavenly, outrageous frosting. Even the exposed interior of the cake didn't suffer; unlike a cake with a cut side exposed to air, this didn't develop off-flavors or a different texture. It was truly remarkable.

Of course, this was only the first repeat freeze-and-thaw; I'm still skeptical that this cake can withstand months of repeated temperature changes without a decline in quality. But we'll see. Given the success thus far, it's safe to say that I'll be testing this puppy for weeks to come.

Caroline's Cakes
Available for shipping

Wine and cheese and cupcakes (?) at Wine 30

Thanks to the glories of winter break, my friend SC is back in town, and I was able to glory in her presence early this week with a wine and food fest at Wine 30. We escaped the blustery cold in the warm, dimly lit, and pleasantly chatter-filled room in Murray Hill and were quickly plied with wine-- for the lady, a glass of pinot noir; for me, a glass of a delicious Super Tuscan that surprised me with its lusciousness.

Super!

We also ordered some food, of course, to have something to do between sips. SC ordered two small plates: first a beets/walnuts/goat cheese crostini, which provided two hearty toast planks for $6. She augmented the crostini with a butternut squash salad (butter lettuce, pickled red onions, roasted pumpkin seeds, balsamic, $9). Upon SC's proclamation that the salad was delicious, the table next to us ordered it as well.

Pretty crostini

Homely but delicious

My choice was a cheese. After a bit of debate with the server, I chose the "kunik," a goat's cheese that's described on the menu as "buttery, unctuous, silky, tangy, musky." The first bite was almost overwhelmingly funky, but the accompaniments-- walnut-raisin bread, apricot marmalade, slivers of dried fig-- tamed down the funk to make the cheese simply pleasantly creamy. I wouldn't necessarily order this cheese again, but it was interesting to try once.

Lots of accompanying bread

Wedge o' cheese

SC closed out the meal with one of their special desserts: red velvet cupcakes. There were four tiny mini cupcakes to an order, and while I can't comment on the presentation of the frosting, SC said the cupcakes themselves were quite good. As a nondenominational cupcake supporter, I was glad on her behalf.

Little dollops

And so we ate our food and drank our wine, and we were not hurried in the slightest when presented with our bill. While Wine 30 is certainly not cheap, it errs just on the side of not-a-ripoff. Prices are just a dollar or two higher than they should be, and portions are just an ounce or two smaller than they should be, but it's not egregious enough to prevent a return a visit. And in fact, the food was delicious, the wine tasty, the atmosphere welcoming, and the company superb. What more could you ask for in a wine bar?

Wine 30
41 E. 30th Street, between Madison and Park Avenue South
212-481-0197

Mail-order frozen cake? Yes, please

It's a long story, but I'll skip to the punch line: for various reasons, I found myself ordering a "world-famous" 7-layer caramel cake from Caroline's Cakes last week. Yes, don't ask. The important part is that a huge, 13-pound frozen cake arrived at my door, and I had to taste-test it. Sometimes life is hard.

First things first: Plop the sucker on the counter for 2-3 hours to let it thaw. And prepare your apartment to be filled, slowly but surely, with an intoxicating caramel aroma that grows ever stronger as the caramel esters become airborne and float along your apartment's air currents toward your nose (or something). Seriously: your kitchen, and if you're a Manhattan-dweller the rest of your small apartment as well, will smell buttery and sugary and positively delightful. Resist the urge to drop everything you're doing and plunge face-first into the cake.

Unveiling the beast

When the time was right, I unwrapped the thawed cake and cut myself a slice. It cut cleanly and prettily, revealing seven thin layers of yellow cake smothered in caramel frosting. I didn't exactly have high hopes for this confection, despite the delicious smell, but I took a bite, and ohh, it was scrumptious. The cake itself wasn't spectacular; it's pretty standard vanilla/yellow cake with a bit of a dry and spongy texture, probably due to the freezing. But that really doesn't matter, because the frosting was outrageous. It's ever-so-slightly grainy, like a good fudge, and it tastes like the best melt-in-your-mouth caramel you've ever had. Not overly buttery or sugary, it strikes the perfect balance and comes together in a sweet, sweet bear hug for your tongue.

Pretty, no?

Suffice it to say I was pretty blown away. And the best part is that, at least in theory, you can refreeze and rethaw this cake as many times as you want for up to 6 months. I'm skeptical about that, but I was skeptical about whether this cake would be edible in the first place, and I'm thoroughly converted on that front. So maybe I have 19/20ths of an enormous cake slowly refreezing in my freezer. We'll see how that goes.

Caroline's Cakes
Available for shipping