Amy's Bread chocolate cake

New Year's Eve was the birthday of AV's friend PP, and as we were all celebrating the holiday together, AV and I conspired to get him a celebratory surprise birthday cake. What's a birthday without a cake, eh? Right. Since I didn't think I'd have enough time to make it all the way down to Billy's early in the day, I ordered a cake from Amy's Bread. Since I'm such a fan of their black-and-white cupcakes, I went with a chocolate cake with white buttercream, in a 6-inch two-layer size.

Birthdayyyy!!

Damn, this cake was good. Seriously good. The tiny bit of brownie-like denseness that makes their black-and-white cupcake so decadent had morphed into an honest-to-goodness underdone center, which meant the tip of every slice was like straight brownie batter. AV agreed that the cake was "fudgy and thoroughly delicious," and the buttercream was Amy's signature delicious vanilla confection. I could eat this cake every day of my life.

Ohghhghhghhghhh

Happy birthday, PP!

Amy's Bread
672 Ninth Avenue, between 46th and 47th Streets
212-977-2670

A night out with Danny Meyer (figuratively), part II

After stuffing ourselves at Maialino on Saturday night, AV and I wanted a nightcap. Since it was so cold out (did I mention it was freezing outside?), we didn't want to go far. Hark! What's that nearby? The bar at Eleven Madison Park? Sure, we'll try it. So we power-walked the few blocks to 24th street and ducked inside to see if there were any openings at the bar. There were-- several open bar tables, in fact-- so we settled in.

A friendly server brought us menus and a dish of their bar snacks, a trio of olives, peanuts, and homemade potato chips. I gobbled the olives while AV did away with the other two delights.

To keep the evening humming

As for drinks, I went with a pinot noir, which the server let me taste before committing to a full glass. It was by far the best pinot noir I've had-- very fruity, not too tannic, and not too earthy either. Must it even be said that the glassware was beautiful and the pour very generous?

This is a terrible picture, but there you go

AV went for one of their cocktails, the "A la Louisianne." It sounded pretty, ahem, hearty from the description: Rye Whiskey, Carpano Antica Formula Vermouth, Benedictine, and Peychaud's Bitters. When it arrived in a long-stemmed martini glass, we were both a bit suspicious, but one sip confirmed that this drink would put some hair on your chest. It was incredibly complex, with flayers layered seamlessly, one asserting at first sip, one as the liquid rolled in your mouth, and still another after the swallow was gone. Intriguing and warming and sophisticated, all at once.

Powerful!

We lingered at the nearly empty bar for a few hours, passing the cold evening in one of my favorite places on earth. Drinks at EMP are certainly not cheap-- for the two of us, with tip, the tab came to over $40-- but for a night of delightful "entertainment," it can't be beat.

Eleven Madison Park
Eleven Madison Avenue, at 24th Street
212-889-0905

A night out with Danny Meyer (figuratively), part I

On Saturday night, it was frigid. Very, very frigid. But due to my insane early morning Opentabling on New Year's Day, we had managed to snag a much-coveted reservation at Maialino, Danny Meyer's newest gem, and so we left the comfort of the indoors, ventured out into the world, and rushed toward the subway to head downtown.

As we sprinted down 21st street towards Lex, we passed a wall of brightly lit, inviting windows on our left. "Is that it?" AV asked. "I think so," I replied. "Those people look so warm and happy," he added. We agreed: We wanted to be one of them.

Fortunately, as we turned the corner onto Lexington Ave, we confirmed that we WOULD be one of them! We entered the bright, friendly, airy dining room, decorated in a rustic trattoria style, and were afforded the standard gracious Union Square Hospitality Group welcome. A hostess led us through the bar area, past the bread station on the left, past the antipasto station on the right, into the main dining room in the back. We were seated at a large, comfortable two-top, and I sank into the banquette with the intention of never leaving.

The first thing keeping us there: the bread basket. With four kinds of carbolicious bounty for the two of us, we both went straight for the focaccia at first grab. It had a pliant crust that merged seamlessly into the flaky innards, with a hint of shatter at the furthest edges. Dredged in the pool of herbal olive oil, I actually said out loud: "That was a good piece of bread." There were also tiny cheese breadsticks that tasted just like Cheez-its (or, according to AV, Goldfish), two slices of sesame seed studded white bread, and two rustic peasant slices. It was all good.

A bread basket for the ages

There was a bit of a wait for our main courses, but fortunately the couple sitting next to us provided us with all the dinner entertainment we could have wanted. Finally, the food arrived, and it looked and smelled spectacular. AV had chosen the Bucatini all'Amatriciana, billed as adorned with "spicy tomato and guanciale." Immediately, he noted that the pasta was very al dente-- so much so that it wouldn't even hold a curl around his fork. But fortunately he likes his pasta that way, and he was impressed by the overall dish.

A tangled web

My choice was one of the contorni, the cavolini e pecorino. When presented with the menu, a bit of judicious blackberry googling revealed that cavolini are brussels sprouts; I was sold. These sprouts were in what I consider to beir the most delicious format, their leaves separated so they're almost like a leafy green. Add a bit of oil, the nutty crunch of chestnuts, and the salty bite of pecorino, and I swear these little pops of delight tasted just like potato chips. I didn't want the dish to end.

Tasted just like Lay's, I swear!

But end it did, and we were presented with the dessert menu, at which point I had a minor breakdown. I was still hungry and wanted dessert, but WHICH? Which, indeed. AV gamely ran interference with the servers as his mildly mentally unstable girlfriend had an existential crisis. Finally, I chose, and what I chose was the tartufo: chocolate ice cream surrounding brandied cherries, rolled in chocolate shavings and accompanied by a puddle of whipped cream. I'm not the hugest fan of chocolate ice cream, but as AV put it, "if you're going to try chocolate ice cream, you do it at a Danny Meyer establishment," and he was right. Dear readers, it was good: densely, richly chocolatey, almost like eating a frozen brownie. The chocolate shavings provided welcome textural contrast, and when I hacked into the center, I found a treasure trove of cherries that provided a nose-clearing hit of brandy with each bite. Oh, and the whipped cream was heavenly.

Actually quite beautiful, in its own way

As AV finished his coffee (note: superlative), we contemplated whether if we asked nicely the staff would let us just never leave. We could put sleeping bags in the corner and be really inconspicuous. Instead of putting our plan in action, however, we paid the bill and moved on to A Night Out with Danny Meyer (Figuratively), Part II. I'm so, so glad we made it out to Maialino-- the food, service, and overall experience were just so thoroughly enjoyable. While it still hasn't unseated Eleven Madison Park as #1 in my heart, it's about as good a four Offset Spatula restaurant as you'll find in this town.

Maialino
2 Lexington Avenue at 21st Street
212-777-2410

Bringing the brussels sprouts at Otto

For a while, I've been wanting to bring AV to Otto. Since we met, he's been claiming he doesn't like brussels sprouts, and I've been claiming I could change his mind with Otto's legendary version. Well, after waking up inhumanely early on New Year's Day, I managed to snag a prime dinner reservation for that evening, so after spending the whole day lounging around my apartment, we braved the world to celebrate the new year at Otto.

Otto was busy and bustling and loud and frenetic. We were seated at a table right near the entrance to the kitchen, and the first thing our waiter did was move the table closer to the wall so he could access the table squeezed next to us. We were like peas in a pod. Unwilling peas.

Our obnoxious waiter aside, we were ready for the food. A runner brought bread and breadsticks just about as soon as our buns touched our chairs, but no olive oil was forthcoming. AV nibbled a bit of the bread, and he pronounced it "whole"... like whole-wheaty. It looked good, but I abstained.

Bread in paper

We started by sharing an order of the fabled brussels sprouts with vin cotto. They were chewy and charred and slightly sweet and toothsome, savory and satisfying like only well-oiled roasted vegetables can be. There were a few bell pepper pieces in the mix as well, and AV and I gobbled the mixture up happily.

The sprouts brought us there

Then for the main course, AV tried the four cheese pizza. Whereas I think we were both expecting a pizza with a four-cheese mixture on top, oddly they sectored the cheeses so it was basically a quarter pizza of each of four cheeses. Whaaa? AV appreciated the pizza for what it was, although he noted he usually likes his crusts thicker. These paper-thin crusts tend to cool too quickly, and who likes cold pizza? Except for people who want cold pizza. Right.

Four cheeses, segregated

My entree was the spicy rabe with ricotta salata. This wasn't quite as successful as the sprouts; despite being vegetabley and cheesy and allegedly spicy, it was bizarrely lacking in flavor. Every now and then I'd get a sliver of hot pepper, but the veggies were really not spicy at all-- and I'm a total spice wuss. Nonetheless, the dish wasn't bad, and I managed to enjoy it.

Meh

But once we were finished, the main event ensued-- dessert! Otto is known for its gelato, and after a taste of its olive oil gelato a few years back, I understood why. I decided to go for an order of gelato with olive oil, salty caramel, and hazelnut stracciatella as my three flavor choices (you can choose one, two, or three flavors for their standard order). The olive oil was just as incredible as I remembered-- almost preternaturally creamy, with the grassy, vegetal flavor of olive oil on the finish. (Yes, I'm pretentious.) The salty caramel was my least favorite of the three, but that's my fault-- I always think I'm going to like salted caramel ice cream flavors, frequently order them, and then ALWAYS regret it. Note to self: I like SWEET caramel, not burnt or salted caramel. This was not sweet enough for me and just tasted a bit bitter, not even really salty. But the hazelnut stracciatella was the surprise winner-- intensely hazelnutty with appealing little pops of ropy chocolate mixed about. After tasting my three flavors, AV reconsidered his decision to go only with a cup of coffee and ordered a cup of his own hazelnut stracciatella. That's my boy!

The trio, with bits of frozen olive oil in the top right

AV's gametime addition

So there you go. We finally made it to Otto, and on balance, I believe we were quite successful. The brussels sprouts are certainly worth returning for, and the gelato is out of this world. Maybe next summer Otto will start a gelato truck, or a gelato cart? Mario, are you listening? I'd be your best customer... Anyway, Otto is a genial, family- and group-friendly three Offset Spatula restaurant, great for entry-level Mario Batali food that isn't too hard on the wallet. If you haven't been, it's certainly worth a visit.

Otto
One Fifth Avenue, at Eighth Street
212-995-9559

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year to everyone out there... hope 2010 brings health, happiness, and lots of good food (and champagne) to all!

Janine

Burgers and wine, and gossip, at Gossip

It was the week before Christmas, and JR, my good friend from college, was back in town on holiday break from Penn Law. Since I had a light day at work, I hastily seized the opportunity to schedule catch-up drinks. With a little food thrown in for good measure.

We met up at Gossip Bar and Restaurant on Ninth Avenue in Hell's Kitchen. The place is about a year old, and I've been there a couple of times before; their food is better than it has to be, and there's always a lot of space to spread out, perfect for a chilly winter evening. Notable props to Gossip as well for having the heat blasting-- as someone who is perpetually freezing cold, I was actually comfortable in there. Which means everyone else was likely sweating bullets. But I was happy! Extra spatulas all around!

We started with drinks. JR got a beer, a Killian's, if I remember correctly. And I ordered a glass of Pinot Noir from their short wine list-- three reds, three whites, no nonsense. Unfortunately, our friendly server returned a few minutes later to inform us that they were out of Pinot Noir. Choosing between the Cabernet Sauvignon or the Merlot, I went with Merlot. And it was actually pretty good-- fruity, not too tannic, smooth drinking. The glassware wasn't much to look at, but it got the job done.

Wine, makin' it happen

From the comprehensive menu, JR chose the turkey burger with pepper jack cheese. The verdict? Again, better than it had to be. The ingredients were fresh and the cheese well-melted; JR noted that the bun didn't quite do it for him, but the patty itself was moist and flavorful. Pressed for a spatula rating, JR vascillated between three and four before settling on three, noting "how good can a turkey burger really be?" Of course, the fries must be mentioned: I tried one, and it was piping hot, but I generally prefer mine in the shoestring style rather than this skin-on, chubby rendition.

T-burg

So once again Gossip retains its three Offset Spatula rating. It's a slightly better-than-standard Irish pub, comfortable, a little upscale, with reasonably priced drinks and food that will exceed most low expectations. I hope it remains in the neighborhood for a while, since it certainly fills a useful niche.

Gossip Bar & Restaurant
733 Ninth Avenue, between 49th and 50th Streets
212-265-2720

Holey Cream rocks Hell's Kitchen

After a few days at home, I boarded the Acela from Boston to New York, ready to head back to my awesome city. I was ravenous once I finally reached my apartment, and after a highly unsatisfying dinner of soup (I don't like soup. But every now and then I have to eat some to re-confirm the fact that I don't like it), I was ready for some dessert. Out I went; I passed Kyotofu, which had some tempting vanilla bean soft serve... but I had a mission. A few blocks up, I reached my destination: Holey Cream.

Boisterous awning

Now, despite the somewhat sketchy name (get your mind out of the gutter!), I had high hopes for this place. Rumors had been flying that they'd carry Sedutto ice cream (YUM) and homemade donuts made according to some crazy recipe from a place out on Long Island. Well, these were some rumors I needed to verify.

And verify I did. The place is narrow and utilitarian, though still inviting; there are enticing baked goods in display cases and soft-serve machines lining the back wall. The woman working behind the counter, who I found out was actually the pastry chef, was incredibly friendly and upbeat, offering huge tastes of ice cream eagerly (and yes, it is Sedutto ice cream... score!... and I think the gelato is Ciao Bella, but that is unverified). I got a small cup of malt ball gelato, which was creamy and not overwhelmingly malt-y, with appealing chocolate bits providing textural contrast.

Donuts!

Cupcakes! I will be back for you, my pretties...

Ice cream menu

Super sundaes

Pastries... Donuts for $1.25

My ice cream

I inquired about the baked goods-- made in-house or sourced?-- at which point I found out this lovely lady was the pastry chef who made them all herself, and did I perhaps want a donut? On the house? Uh, yes please. She handed me a small, frosted confection about the size of a deck of cards, enrobed in icing and chocolate crumbs, noting that she had made the donut about two hours ago so it was super fresh. I took a bite. I think I mumbled something along the lines of "this is crazy good," but I don't really remember, because my brain was overwhelmed by the sweet, rich icing and the tender, cakey-yet-stretchy insides that carried that slight tinge of appealing friedness that makes donuts so irresistable. When she started describing a donut ice cream sandwich she sometimes makes by cutting a donut in half and stuffing it with ice cream, I think I may have gone into a dessert-induced catatonic state. Note to self: access donut ice cream sandwich, stat, by any means necessary.

Oh it's just so beautiful...

With my donut and cup of ice cream in tow, I tumbled out onto Ninth Avenue, a happy and sugar-sated camper. It probably goes without saying, but Holey Cream rocks my world. The prices are surprisingly reasonable-- my small ice cream was well under $4, and of course the donut was free-- and the goods are delicious. And gosh darn it, it feels good to support a local mom-and-pop shop rather than a huge conglomerate like the Cold Stone/Tim Horton's a block away. I really hope HC stays for a long, long time, and while I will certainly do my best to keep it in business single-handedly, experience shows I may need help. Dear readers, stop in and sample the goodies. You won't be sorry.

Holey Cream
Ninth Avenue and 53rd Street
212-247-8400