Kashkaval still doesn't quite get there

Last week, KS and I stopped in for an early dinner at Kashkaval. I've been once before with BL, and my experience was mixed; the food was okay, but the atmosphere wasn't great. This time around, we had a pretty similar time, with slightly better service and slightly worse food.

We were some of the first customers for dinner, so we got our choice of seats. We managed to order relatively quickly, though we had to flag down our server; the food came without too long a delay. KS ordered the sampler plate of five cold Mediterranean tapas, which supposedly serves 1-2 but actually serves more like 2-3. She selected the hummus, baba ganoush, taramosalata, piyaz (white beans with scallions, parsley, and dill), and taboule. While Kashkaval gets points for value, the food wasn't compelling enough for KS to want to take the ample leftovers home.

Holy moly

I chose the Greek salad, which promises "tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, herbs, feta." I asked about the dressing, and our server dismissively said it's very light and a non-issue. Well, this salad came pretty drenched in the pungent dressing-- and not only that, it was about 50% red and green peppers, where weren't exactly listed on the menu. I'm not a huge fan of bell peppers, so I picked out the tomatoes, olives, and cucumber and left a bowl half-filled with peppers swimming in a pool of dressing.

Yup, peppers

Once we were done, we sat for a while with the discarded plates in front of us before ultimately flagging down a waiter to get us the check. Overall, it wasn't the most successful meal, but it got the job done. If you're in the market for a wine bar in Hell's Kitchen, you have much better choices merely a few blocks away (included Bocca di Bacco, Casellula, Riposo 46, Vintner Wine Market, and Ardesia, to name but a few).

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

A bite or two at Taboon

A few weeks ago, AC and I celebrated her last day at work with a low-key dinner at Taboon. We were early so easily snagged an outdoor seat on 10th Avenue, taking advantage of the mercifully lower humidity and moderate temperatures to eat and people-watch.

As always, we started with Taboon's fantastic, fantastic bread. AC had ordered hummus as her meal, which arrived with the bread. The hummus was quite good, creamy and adorned with some yogurt and some spiced oil (paprika? cumin?) and a few chickpeas for good measure.

Stellar as always

It's almost hypnotic...

I got the zucchini cakes, as always, easy on the oil. These were fantastic-- flavorful and hearty and surprisingly filling for their small portion. I always wish for more yogurt; the tiny splotch they provide is always just a tease.

Tasty little cakes

Service was friendly, as usual, and they let us linger for as long as we wanted. So we did, picking at the bread, people-watching, and catching up. It was perfect.

Taboon
773 Tenth Avenue, at 52nd Street
212-713-0271

A quick bite at le Pain Quotidien

Early afternoon on Monday found me at Le Pain Quotidien in Bryant Park, grabbing a bite with my mentor at work. As usual, the place was bustling-- loud and a bit warm and humid inside. Also as usual, the treats all looked tempting, but we managed to make some choices. A tartine with black bean hummus, avocado, and spicy tahini spread for her; a cup of berries for me. Both were fresh, tasty, and delicious.

Open faced sandwich with delightful garnishes

Berries were admirably fresh and tasty

Le Pain Quotidien
70 W. 40th Street, between 5th and 6th Avenues
212-354-5224

Crammed in at Gazala Place

Last week, AV and I stopped into Gazala Place for a low-key, local dinner. The restaurant is a tiny hole-in-the-wall, with tables are pretty much piled on top of one another. We were seated immediately (hooray!) at a tiny two-top with a third chair sticking out into the narrow aisle, making it pretty much impossible to be comfortable at any point during the meal (boo). I can only imagine what it would be like to have three people eating at that table.

Regardless, we were there to eat, so we looked at the menu and made our choices. Once we were ready to order, the waitress came over and recited the specials with suspicious enthusiasm. It was as though she had been given the mandate not to let any party leave without ordering the stuffed artichoke special, which immediately made me a bit wary... it's rare that servers push specials simply out of their own love for the dish. After a few false starts, we finally had our order in, and soon the first course was up.

AV had ordered the kebab halabi, which came with a house salad. This arrived first, and it was actually quite tasty, made so by the superb yogurt-based dressing spiked with dill (the salad itself was mostly iceberg and thus nothing special). I had a couple bites but was soon overwhelmed with my own dish, which appeared shortly after.

Visible dill on lackluster greens

I had selected the combo vegetable platter, combining grape leaves, hummus, baba ghanouj, and tabouli. The grape leaves were tasty but a bit greasy. The hummus was on the better side of standard, and the baba ghanouj was quite commendable-- not overly smoky, which is a common pitfall of the dish. The tabouli was both fresh and refreshing. The whole plate came with a dish of "pita" on the side, which was unlike any pita I'd ever had-- it was paper-thin, almost like a sturdy, nubbly crepe. It wasn't my favorite; I prefer traditional puffy pita. There was also a tiny bonus dish of yogurt sauce and cucumber (possibly a tzaziki-like mixture) in the center of the plate, which was one of the best parts of the dish.

Lots of filling food here

Freeform, deflated pita

AV's kebab halabi arrived next, with a dish of white rice on the side. The kebab ended up being essentially two lamb-and-beef burgers in a tomato sauce, with a sprinkling of pine nuts on top. AV reported that it was good but not outstanding-- and a bit pricey (at $14.95) for what it was.

Pretty patties

White rice, white shell

We were so uncomfortable at our table that we got out of there as soon as we were finished, although not without bumping into every other diner in the room on our way out (there is seriously, seriously little space in there). Overall, we thought that the food at Gazala was pretty good, but the service was a bit weird, the dining room not enjoyable to be in, and the prices a bit too high for the products delivered. My guess is that Gazala Place would shine in takeout/delivery, which I might try. But then again, if I'm craving Mediterranean food, why wouldn't I just go to Hummus Kitchen?

Gazala Place
709 Ninth Avenue, between 48th and 49th Streets
212-245-0709

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

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

Brand-new Hummus Kitchen is AWESOME

After a brisk fall day spent walking around midtown, I ended my afternoon in my own neighborhood of Hell's Kitchen. It was still early, but my stomach rumbled for dinner. There was only one solution: the brand-new Ninth Avenue Mediterranean entrant Hummus Kitchen. So there I went.

Even though it was still early in the evening, the tiny ten-table dining room was nearly full when I arrived. I managed to snag a tiny table for two (or, er, one) along one wall and settled in to taste the magic that Hummus Kitchen could produce. I looked over the relatively brief but entirely appealing menu (included below, as it's not up on their website yet) and made my selection.


While I waited, a server brought over a tiny dish of olives. I popped a few of the briny and flavorful bites into my mouth as I looked around the dining room. It's a cute space, with exposed brick walls, painted tiles on the floor, and chandeliers that look alarmingly like giant tea-steeping balls. The servers ran frantically up and down the center aisle, shuttling hot dishes to tables and scuttling back to the prep area to refill water glasses.

Complimentary olives!

After about ten minutes or so, my selection arrived. I had ordered the "Mixed platter" of mazze, which allowed me to taste most of the delightful appetizers on order. Because it's the restaurant's "Grand opening," they threw in a gratis dish of hummus and plate of pita.

The mixed sampler consisted of two oblong falafels; a sample of roasted cauliflower (in this case, just one large floret); couscous taboule; babganush; shredded feta and beets; green tahini; and a bureka (a triangular puff pastry stuffed with "feta cheese, eggplant, and dry tomato").

The Mixed Platter of deliciousness

I started with a bite of falafel, which was flavorful, tasty, and deeply fried. Then I moved on to the bureka. The pastry tore apart into flaky layers, and a bite revealed a spiced, somewhat greasy crust encasing a flavorful filling. I dug the rest of the filling out with my fork, skipping the pastry (don't get me wrong, it was delicious, but just a bit too greasy for my stomach). The cauliflower was next: It was fork-tender with a standard cauliflower taste. It improved with a smear of the green tahini, which tasted deliciously of sesame.

So much visible spice

A forkful of the couscous taboule revealed a burst of minty flavor, which was mellowed somewhat by the surrounding tiny grains of couscous and bits of tomato. A dollop of tahini mixed with the taboule made an irresistible combination.

Yummy green tahini makes everything taste better

Then came the babaghanouj. It was intesensely smoky with a delightful creamy texture that was highly complementary to both the cauliflower and the pita. Finally, the beets and feta were delicious-- the beets were sweet with a tenderly cooked, while the feta was definitely fresh and not overly salty.

Smoky eggplant and sweet beets

But the hummus-- ohhh, the hummus. It came swirled in a tiny dish and topped with chickpeas, paprika, a drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkle of parsley. The accompanying pita bread was warm and fluffy, with an airy thickness double that of the cardboard stuff you buy in the store. A scoop of the warm, impossibly fresh hummus on top of a torn bite of pita was heaven-- the creamy, flavorful hummus lovingly clung to the bread, carrying perhaps the odd bit of warm whole chickpea. Forgive me for becoming rhapsodic here; this was seriously, seriously outstanding hummus.

Best hummus I've ever had

Fluffy, airy pita

Since Mediterranean food can sometimes be very heavy, I didn't intend to finish the dish of creamy hummus, but I couldn't help myself. Before I knew it, the dish was empty and wiped clean with a final bite of pita; the rest of the mezes had also been packed away. And yet-- I didn't feel stuffed, I felt incredibly, happily satisfied. And I wasn't the only one who was happy: When my server stopped by mid-meal to ask how things were, I replied that the hummus was spectacular, and she beamed. Literally BEAMED. It is clear they take incredible pride in their hummus here (which, incidentally, is made fresh in-house nearly continuously).

While in typical new-restaurant style, the place is clearly still getting its footing service-wise (there often seemed to be some backups with prepared dishes at the pass, for example, and the large number of servers seemed almost to be bumping into each other), but it was all in good fun-- people seemed happily harried, if that's even possible. And I must add that the food is incredibly cheap: my mazze sampler was the most expensive thing on the menu at $8.50. Since the food is so fresh and so delicious, it's an impossibly good value for the money, which elevates Hummus Kitchen to the rare non-upscale four Offset Spatula restaurant.. If you like hummus-- or if you're even willing to try to like hummus-- I implore you to stop by Hummus Kitchen. It will change your outlook on the chickpea.

Hummus Kitchen
768 Ninth Avenue (between 51st and 52nd street)
212-333-3009