March 28, 2007
MAZEL TOV!
To the right is the winner of the inaugural Matzo Sculpture Competition sponsored by Manischewitz and hosted by NYU. Sophomore art student James Donovan won $1,000 for his unleavened rendering of the Arch at Union Square. Art talk abounded:
The official theme was "Home," contestant Eric Goldberg said, and his three little matzo dioramas were meant to represent his parents' home, his grandparents' home, and now (the one with the matzo futon), his own home, as an NYU student.
"They gave me a foundation," he said of his family, and you just know that somewhere out there, there are two generations of Goldbergs very proud that their boy is spending his $39,000 education gluing matzos together.
Don't worry Eric, they're probably just relieved you're not a performance artist.
Posted by Lexiphane at 12:14 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
March 13, 2007
LET'S SAVE THE OUTRAGE THIS TIME, ALRIGHT?
The New York Sun has an article today filled with some of the most disingenous belly-aching I've heard in some time. Right from the headline, one can sense that the head on this argument is more Coors Light than Guinness.
Ban of Liquor on St. Patrick's Riles Railroad Commuters
What commuters would these be exactly? On a Saturday? Could it be the throngs of Irish-for-a-day drunkards who make almost all public transportation in and around NYC a vomit-filled nightmare? Clinging to the increasingly absurd notion that the Irish are still some sort of discriminated-against ethnic group, as if this was the "ol' sod" during the Troubles, is patently ridiculous:
"It definitely looks like stereotyping, and that's what the MTA should be faulted for," state Senator Martin Golden, a Republican of Brooklyn who is Irish, said. "Some people do get out of control, but to focus on that day, and on certain segments of the population like that, is totally wrongheaded."
Mr. Golden said the MTA should lift what he dubbed a discriminatory liquor ban that assumes Irish revelers are more out of control than other groups when celebrating their holidays.
"And I'll fight any man who claims otherwise!" was not added by Mr. Golden.
A VP of a fraternal Irish police organization involved with the parade––of all people!––complained that a booze ban on March 17th was discriminatory because enforcement wasn't equally strengthened during the Gay Pride or certain Hispanic Day parades. Alright buddy, and everyone always says that it's "A Day When Everyone's Queer!" during the Gay Pride celebration; when legions of knuckleheads under the age age of 25 flock from far and wide, donning rainbow pants and drunkenly singing old Madonna favorites. You think you 're being unfairly discriminated against? Try holding a parade when every business and residence on 5th Avenue boards up their windows and doors with plywood and lock up their daughters, lest they be ravished by some scary Dominicans hoods. I think this is one occasion when we can put down the bottle for just an hour or two and stop whining. As for the stereotypes, try to get past them when weaving between cops and firemen relieving themselves just off 2nd Ave next Saturday, while stepping over the hundreds of empty bottles and cans littering the streets of the East Side, and as a you see some teenager with vomit down the front of his shirt holding onto a building as he waits in line to be denied entry to yet another bar.
(Photos courtesy of a Google search that turns up thousands of links associating St. Patrick's Day with drunken behavior.)
Tagged: drunk, mta, nyc, st. patrick's day, subway, vomitPosted by Lexiphane at 8:16 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
March 5, 2007
TEMPEST IN A COCOA CUP
On Water St. in Brooklyn, between the Manhattan and Brooklyn Bridges, one can slip into a shop featuring three small tables and hundreds of pounds of chocolate. It's Jacques Torres Chocolate and the chocolatier's DUMBO location offers the chance to catch a sidewalk view of gourmet chocolates being manufactured inside. For chocolate lovers, the place approaches heaven in smell and sight and it's hard to think bad blood or emnity could ever ooze from such a sweet place, like filling from a bonbon.
The Brooklyn Paper can not only imagine it, it's drizzling a choco-rivalry all over its pages this week.
The article goes on to describe the falling out between Herve Poussot, who stabbed Torres in the back by discarding the latter's hot chocolate at his restaurant Almondine, and Torres, who helped Poussot establish his own restaurant few years ago.
The sign may have been meek — “Now for sale: hot chocolate” — but it read like a dagger to anyone who knows the bitter world of high-end sweets.
Torres is now inconsolable and vowing bitter (maybe bittersweet) revenge on his gustatory and geograpahical neighbor.
“Chocolate is a huge industry and there is room for everyone!” wrote Torres, who favors exclamation marks. “In the DUMBO neighborhood, lots of businesses offer hot chocolate — Starbucks, Seven Stars Deli, Bubby’s, Front Street Pizza, to name a few. When Herve first got started, we gave him our hot chocolate product and our cups! Now he’s got his own recipe, and that is very exciting!”
Wait, what? Damn you Jacques Torres, with your sugar- and cocoa-infused demeanor! How's anyone supposed to write an article with any dramatic tension if you're going to act like such a . . . such a . . . candyass!?
[via Gothamist]
Tagged: brooklyn, chocolate, food, nyc, rivalryPosted by Lexiphane at 11:50 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
February 25, 2007
MARSHMALLOW MISE EN SCENE
The Washington Post is happy ("with glee") to announce a reader contest today to see who can construct the best diorama populated by marshmallow Peep characters. It is the paper's inaugural Peeps Diorama Contest:
We want you to make a diorama of a famous occurrence or scene. It can be a historic or current event, or it can be a nod to pop culture. The one rule is that all the characters in the diorama must be played by Peeps.
(Our ideas? "The Peeple v. Larry Flynt." Or Penelopeep Cruz in "Volver." Or a scene from MTV's "Peep My Ride.")
So, to recap: Think of a scene. Buy the appropriate number of Peeps. Make your diorama using a shoe box or comparable item. (Dress up the Peeps, if you want. Give them pipe-cleaner arms or jelly bean feet.) Take a couple of photos of the diorama. E-mail them in JPEG format to sundaysource@washpost.com with "Peeps" in the subject line. Include your name, daytime phone number and home town, plus the diorama's title.
If your diorama is chosen as one of five finalists, a courier will be sent for it and it will be photographed professionally and featured in The Washington Post. Contest guidelines don't say so explicitly, but that indicates to me that entries wishing to advance may have to come from the DC metro area.
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January 24, 2007
GETTING SOMETHING OFF HIS CHEST
(Tony Cenicola for the NYTs)
One would think that New York Times food critic Frank Bruni would be treated very well when he goes out to eat. Apparently not always, however. Today's paper features a hilarious account of the imperiousness of top chefs and restaurant staffs towards guests who are allowed to dine at their restaurants.
The blessed night at last arrives, and so do you, and you’re immediately made to feel you should kneel in gratitude and supplication. Just inside the restaurant’s door, displayed like a religious icon, is the chef’s book, bearing the chef’s visage. It lets you know you’re in the presence of holiness. It lets you know you can spend another $34.95 on your way out.
You spend plenty before then. Servers muscle you toward a 47-course tasting menu, replete with shochu and grappa pairings, telling you it’s the only way to appreciate fully what “Chef” (no pesky, plebeian “the” needed) can do.
It’s crucial that you appreciate fully, so each dish comes with a disquisition on its origin and proper consumption.
Chef got the eggs from an old lady with cataracts upstate. Chef foraged for the mushrooms in a thicket near the Tappan Zee. Chef counsels a bite from the ramekin on the left, then a sip from the shot glass on the right, then a palate-clearing curtsy.
Bruni places the blame at our own feet for creating a celebrity chef culture that feeds chefs' and restaurateurs' haughty hubris. But waiters? This is my favorite line in the whole story:
At Freemans, a self-consciously scruffy redoubt on the Lower East Side, the server who denied us our cheese toasts and hot artichoke dip explained, “You’ll have a more pleasant experience that way.” Such altruism. Moved us to tears.
Thomas Keller, of Per Se in NYC and French Laundry in Napa, CA, outdoes himself when it comes to the level of his self-regard: comparing his tasting menu mini-entrees to the work housed in The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
“I’d like them to experience the entire experience, the entire Thomas Keller, the entire French Laundry,” he said. People who stop at five courses, he said, are doing the equivalent of leaving a Broadway play at intermission or walking through only half of a special exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
“Has the exhibit given them the full impact of what it was supposed to by whoever designed the exhibit?” he asked. “Probably not.”
Good point, but then again, two hours after I leave The Met I'm not dropping Old Masters in the toilet. Keller would have been better off saying it would have been like leaving a Barbra Streisand concert half-way through. People spend a stupendous amount of money to attend and feel fortunate to be there, but in the end it is merely a fleeting experience and of questionable artistic merit.
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December 2, 2006
SEAL OF APPROVAL
Walking down 6th Ave. between 19th and 20th Sts. last Thursday, the image above caught my eye. Rafiqi's hallal food cart features a rather prominent endorsement on its front from Jen Chung, editor of Gothamist.com. A larger version of the photo can be viewed here. The eponymous logo with panda isn't from Gothamist, but from Jen's personal site. I wonder if Jen is aware that her personal lunch preferences pack such a commercial wallop.
If there are any eating establishments that care to use the Lexiphane.com name and logo for endorsement purposes, let it be known that I can be bought very cheaply.
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November 11, 2006
INDESPENSIBLE
Entertaining can be fun, post hoc,, but the preparation can be rife with stress. Thankfully, Amy Sedaris has presented a helpful cookbook and entertaining guide to help one sort the ins and outs of entertaining and feeding guests you might like and those that you'd care never to enter your apartment.
Amy Sedaris is the sister of well-known author David Sedaris and the creator and star of "Strangers With Candy". We've met briefly a few times and she is absolutely fantastic and everything one would hope she'd be, i.e. she's a weirdo with a serious talent for cooking. She's also cute as hell.
Sedaris' new book is called I Like You, Hospitality Under the Influence. I paged through it yesterday and it lived up to all my expectations. Filled with hilarious graphics and asides, it just might be the funniest cookbook of all time. If Betty Crocker were a recovering pseudo-crack whore/successful actress, waitress, and whatnot, she would've been able to write this book. The Talent Family remains one of my favorites.
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October 20, 2006
ANY COMESTABLE PITCH IN A PINCH
The gentrification of Manhattan may have just arrived at its high tide, when its lowest-ebb residents demand fine dining from their street vendors. When I say lowest ebb, that's not meant in a pejorative sense, just that that it's in the city that never sleeps, there are highs and lows of activity. Apparently some break-of-dawn diners aren't satisfied with huddling into 24-hour-a-day coffee shops.
UNDER a nearly full moon, a small crowd was clustered around a street cart that spewed charcoal-scented smoke into the night air. It was 4:30 in the morning, and customers were clamoring for the kimchi hot dogs, kalbi burgers and other Korean-accented bites that Sam Talbot, the cart jockey, was dishing out on the Lower East Side.
Once the glassy-eyed gentleman in line ahead of me had secured a marinated and grilled short rib sandwich, agreeing enthusiastically to Mr. Talbot’s offers of additional kimchi, he turned to his more lucid companion and asked, “What is this?”
There was a time when more-well-heeled customers flocked to all-night establishments like Odeon or Blue Ribbon. Now even the heel-and-toe crowd can enjoy sidewalk knoshing on better than dirty water hot dogs. Five years ago--in the wake of 9/11, I remember walking around downtown in the early hours and it was a veritable ghost town. I'm not sure if this is encouraging or discouraging.
Kudos to the guys who stay up all night servicing annoying customers though. Every dollar is probably well earned. I've been tasked to squire a young out-of-town woman home this morning for a friend after what should be her quality evening of revelry. Maybe we should do some field reporting first.
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September 14, 2006
WHAT THE DILLY-YO?
I love pickles. May I repeat? I LOVE pickles! Perhaps it denotes a biological sodium deficiency, but their salty--sometimes-sour--garlicy goodness is a blessing upon my palate. I love pickles. That's why I was thrilled when my sister told me that this Sunday is International Pickle Day, with an attendant celebration on Orchard St. between Grand and Broome Sts.
International Pickle Day is a free multi-cultural celebration of pickling from around the world featuring exhibits, stories and pickle facts, and of course, a tasty sampling of pickled goods - and not just cucumbers. Anything that gets preserved in brine – radishes, tomatoes, okra, cabbage, fish, meat, carrots, beans, onions, eggs, limes, mangos, peaches, and beets will illustrate a host of pickling traditions from the immigrant communities of India, Germany, Poland, China, Japan, Scandinavia, Korea, Vietnam, the Middle East, Africa and more.
See? It's not just me. The will to pickle is international. One of my friend's mother used to pickle cabbage by burying a jar in the ground in her backyard. It was a Korean dish called kim-chee. How was it? What do you think? It was freaking awesome! I used to live around the corner from a pickle shop on the UES. I could've just handed that guy my entire paycheck and been happy, although my landlord might have objected.
If I owe you money or you need to get ahold of me this weekend, you'll know where to find me. I'll be the guy with preserved cucumbers and other vegetables crammed in his maw, with briney goodness running down his chin.
UPDATE: I was out last night and mentioned to a friend of mine "You know, this weekend is the International . . ."
" . . . Pickle Festival. Yeah, I know. Which day is that again?"
Can I say how much I love my friends?
UPDATE II: I headed to the LES for the International Pickle Day Festival yesterday afternoon. On the same block as the NYC Tenemant Museum, it was a passage back in time to southern Manhattan's more ethnically diverse and historical roots. Unfortunately, the crowds were absurd. I really couldn't see myself standing in line--even on a perfect Indian Summer afternoon--for an hour to get two free pickles from any of the vendors. So I wandered off to search for the location of my friend Tash's new bar, which I couldn't find. Just when all seemed at its bleakest, I got a call from my friend Meg, who was meeting another friend at the festival. They'd already done their pickle shopping, but we met at a nearby bar that a guy I know manages. This particular place has a great back garden, which is fronted (backed?) by the newly erected Rivington Hotel. We sat in the garden and debated the merits of different kinds of pickles and wedding mishaps, when our third member noticed that the large window in the shower stall of one of the 2nd rooms at Rivington Hotel is not frosted, but pretty much transluscent; and a female guest was taking a shower. Two guys and a girl, enjoying drinks and pickles while debating which stage of a 20-minute shower a woman is in with a pretty good vantage point from a bar's garden is one of the stranger things I've done recently in NYC.
And then heading back uptown on 1st Ave., I said "Hey, that guy in front of us looks just like Mike Meyers (of Austin Powers' fame)." "Yeah, that is Mike Meyers" carrying a hockey stick and looking a little the worse for wear. Damn Canadians and their hockey fascinations.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 1:10 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
September 7, 2006
AW CRAP
One of my friends is realizing her dream to open her own bar on the Lower East Side. Hopefully the city won't screw her:
Beginning immediately, the New York State Liquor Authority said it will no longer allow new nightclubs, bars or cabarets to open their doors within 500 feet of three or more establishments that already have a full liquor license.The moratorium, prompted by complaints from some residents that late-night revelry was getting out of hand in some places, will last until at least the end of the year, the authority said.
This is where it gets really sticky:
Rick Sampson, president of the New York State Restaurant Association, said the moratorium was a horrible step that would hurt the city's economy, stifle revitalization of some neighborhoods, and hurt entrepreneurs who have already borrowed money and leased space.
``This is certainly going to be a financial hardship for a lot of people,'' he said.
This is turnabout as foulplay. The LES was gentrified as a downtown destination for nightlife in the late '90s. Once slumming yuppies started showing, up policing increased and residential appeal increased. Now that it's a residential neighborhood, the current residents want to shut down the nightlife? This is complete bullshit. If this fucks my friend, I'm going to be more furious than I am right now.
Financial hardship? Some people stake their life savings into building a business!
UPDATE: I talked to my friend and she's already passed city inspections for her liquor license, so she's in the clear.
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August 25, 2006
PARK SLOPE IS CLOSED
I've only lived in Brooklyn for about a year and a half. I try to work overtime, meeting and talking to people, however, so that I feel like I've been here a few years longer. Here in Park Slope's late-night demi-monde--and that has to be the most mild milieu ever described in print--there is an afterhours Switzerland named Bageltique. It is neutral territory, where the latest-of-the-late bar customers mingle with impunity among late-shift police officers from the 78th getting breakfast. I've seen raving drunk lunatics get into fights five feet from a pair of cops, but there appears to be an unwritten law that says "what happens in Bageltique stays in Bageltique."
Aside from the curious chaos that Bageltique engendered, the true appeal of the place was that it was open 24 hours a day and had truly glorious food. Its sandwiches were nearly perfect and it had about a dozen varieties of cream cheese, including bacon and chives. The bagels were made on the premises in an early morning process that was fascinating to watch. And so I've switched to the past tense.
I went to get dinner from Bageltique last night; it's good enough to cause fortnightly hankerings that will make you wander a few blocks out of one's way. And then the horror: Bageltique is closed. The Park Slope institution that's been serving neighbors for about 50 years is boarded up, and not for a late-August vacation. I went into a nearby bar that knows the neighborhood's business fairly well and asked the bartender "Seamus, what the hell happened to Bageltique?"--I was fairly hysterical. Bageltique's property has been sold and currently undergoing renovations. I found the new owner and he said it will re-open in approximately two weeks. No answer on whether it would remain a 24-hour establishment or whether it would continue to make its own bagels. In the meantime, cops and the more-suspect side of Park Slope wait with baited breath at the border of Gowanus between President and Carroll Sts.
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August 3, 2006
BEAT THE HEAT
The heat index (heat + humidity) says that it's about 115 degrees out. ConEd may or may not have blown your electricity. It's hot as bejeezuz. Going outside feels like stepping into a pizza oven. Is there any relief?
Oh yes. There is. On a similar day last summer I happened by chance on famed chocolatier Jacque Torres' storefront in DUMBO. He was advertising, not hot chocolate, but cold chocolate on the store's sidewalk chalkboard. Cold chocolate is like iced coffee, but made from Torre's shop-made bittersweet chocolates mashed together with milk and crushed ice. On a hot day, the experience is like being lifted to heaven. It makes you want to dance a jig and kiss old ladies in the street. It is sublime.
Jacque Torres' store itself is an experience that I highly recommmend visiting, whatever the weather. It's on 66 Water Street near the DUMBO Brooklyn waterfront.
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July 21, 2006
"IT WAS SCARY", HE SAID, "AND I LEFT MY CHEESECAKE"
Oh the horror, the horror. There was a fire at the famed Carnegie Deli in midtown yesterday evening, filling the dining area with smoke and causing customers to flee to the street.
The blaze began at about 5 p.m., when an electrical cable blew up, fire department Acting Battalion Chief Mike Meyer said. It was under control about 30 minutes later.
The Carnegie Delicatessen & Restaurant, a block east of the Ed Sullivan Theater, where "The Late Show with David Letterman" tapes, was to be closed for a few days so it could be recertified by the Board of Health and restocked with fresh food.
I'm suspecting an act of sabotage by the new Junior's, recently opened in Times Square.
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June 23, 2006
A TONIC FOR SUMMER HEAT?
For the last nine months [9? I'm not positive about that, ed.], the building on the corner of 29th and 3rd Ave. had been boarded up. It was clear that it was being renovated into a bar. A huge bar. Puzzlingly, the place seemed complete, yet unopened for the last two months. According to people I've talked to, the building's rooftop bar was a hiccup in the owner's liquor license approval process. That probably cost them a godawful amount of money in delays. The name of the place is Tonic (east). It's hard to miss. It sticks out like a sore thumb on 3rd Ave. in Murray Hill.
Last night, the owner of Whiskey River, its manager, and I went over to Tonic (with some other guy who's a friend of the owner and lives in the neighborhood and whose name I can't remember. Sorry!) to reconnoiter. First impression: "Wow! This place is huge!" It is huge. Tonic occupies a building that fills a full corner of a block. The interior design adds to the feeling of space by opening the first floor up to the second. What this takes away in second-floor floorspace is worth it thanks to the atrium-like atmosphere it creates. The second floor has another smaller bar, that serves a small dance floor and a number of banquettes. There's a rooftop bar, but that was closed when we got there, but it could be nice, although views of the Chrysler and Empire State Buildings are only possible, I imagine.
Would I ever go back to Tonic? Hmmmm. Doubtful. It's a bit glossy, like an issue of FHM with served alcohol and full of scantily clad women. The first-floor bar is a speckled marble, that looks like someone just renovated their kitchen. The music was frankly awful, although the multiple bigscreen projection and plasma tvs would make it a great place to watch a game if they could temporarily transform to a sports bar.
Word on the street is that the owners spent $6 million, not to own, but just renovate and open Tonic. That's a lot of dough. The place has the effervescence of B&T about it, but it's only been open for two weeks and probably needs some time to settle in. If one was going to nail me down me a characterization right now, I would say it's McFadden's meets Joshua Tree, the first on 42nd and 2nd Ave, the second on 3rd Ave and around 37th St.
My friend Kendra hit the nail on the head, noting that the bar really doesn't "fit" in the neighborhood. It's huge. It's loud. It's pseudo-glam. It's kind of a weird sight on 3rd Ave.
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June 22, 2006
RESTAURAUTEUR?
This is something that I've been wondering about lately. What, exactly, are the terms and etymology of someone who runs a restaurant? Despite taking six years of French, my first instinct is to always to write "restauranteur" [res-ter-ON-tur]. The apparently more common term is "restaurateur" [res-ter-AH-tur]. Sometimes, however, I come upon the term "restaurauteur" [res-ter-AW-tur]. This would seem to derive from the auteur theory of film championed in the 1950s and 1960s by Francois Truffaut:
The auteur theory holds that a film, or an entire body of work, by a director (or, less commonly, a producer) reflects the personal vision and preoccupations of that director, as if she or he were the work's primary "author" (auteur).
The auteur theory has had a major impact on film criticism worldwide ever since it was first advocated by François Truffaut in 1954. "Auteurism" is the method of analyzing films based on this theory (or, alternately, the characteristics of a director's work that makes her or him an auteur). Both the Auteur Theory and the auteurism method of film analysis are frequently associated with the French New Wave and the film critics who wrote for Cahiers du cinéma.
With the current state of the culinary arts in celebrity status and star chefs owning and controlling their own restaurants, let alone tv shows, it seems like the auteur theory could easily be transferred to cuisine. So where is this term coming from? When did it bridge from film to cooking? Is it an actual term or a simple case of misspelling or confusion by some people?
Whatever it's etymology, the term "restaurauteur" is an incredibly clever neologism, blending two words with very reasonable compatibility into one new word without any mouth-bending or major corruption of the original pronunciation. So does anyone know where it comes from and when it originated? I did some superficial searching online and am getting nothing. My comments section is currently busted, so please e-mail me at the@lexiphane.com if you have any further information.
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June 21, 2006
I KNOW WHERE THE BEEF IS
Where to find that quality burger? Regular readers of the site know that I love a good hamburger; in fact, I tend to belabor that point [see, WHERE IS THE BEEF?]. Which gives me one more reason to love the folks over at Gothamist.com. They're hosting the QBQ (quality before quantity) BBQ event this Saturday at Water Taxi Beach in Queens in a partnership with the people from A Hamburger Today.
And if the lure of freshly grilled meat wasn't enough, there will be a screening of Hamburger America at the event. Chef Harry Hawk of Schnack will have several varieties of burgers including an interpretative homage to burgers around the nation including The Guber
[sic, I think that should be Goober] Burger (1/4 lb burger with melted peanut butter), The Butter Burger (1/4 lb burger topped with butter), The Green Chile Burger (1/4 lb burger topped with...green chilies), and The Motz Burger (1/4 lb burger topped with Schnack Sauce). Also on the menu is the Elk Burger with meat freshly delivered from Idaho. The $9 ticket includes any two burgers and the $16 ticket includes any four burgers. Harry's will also have his regular menu available. It should be noted that having a ticket is substantially cheaper than buying the food a la cart and those without tickets may not be able to try every burger.
You're likely asking, "What the hell is Water Taxi Beach?" WTB is a public/private partnership in Long Island City, Queens, right across the East River from approximately 42nd St. There's sand, bars, restaurants, and summer in the city. Is it a surprise to come upon? Yes. Is it a great idea? Hells yeah!
The QBQ BBQ event is this Saturday starting at 6pm and ending at 10pm. Directions by car, subway, water taxi, and whatnot are available here. Tickets for the event are available here, although one can just show up without guarantee of trying all the burgers.
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June 11, 2006
BIG APPLE BBQ IV
What are some of my favorite things? Is it raindrops on roses or whiskers on kittens? Bright copper kettles or warm woolen mittens? Perhaps cream colored ponies? Not unless they're slow roasted over a fire and seasoned with dry rub! Oh! I'm sorry! I think I got carried away at the prospect of the 4th Annual Big Apple BBQ Festival in Madison Square.
Mmmmm, meat: it's what's for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. In one of the only events that makes standing in line for Danny Meyer's Shake Shack seem like a good idea, thousands will flock today to Madison Square for the second day of the Big Apple Barbecue Festival, where purveyors from St. Louis, Memphis, Texas, Kansas City, and NYC will throw meat at hordes of people hungering for the best BBQ available in the U.S.
The lines will be ridiculous. The prospect of smelling ribs, chicken, and other saliva-inducing food items while one has to wait endlessly in line is enough to drive one mad. I suggest stopping by the new 7-11 on 23rd St. to get a giant Slurpee as a way of effecting occasional brain freezes in line to stave off insanity. It's like thermal electroshock therapy. Is it all worth it? Oh, it is. Two years ago I thought I saw a mob of people descend on a pigeon in a fit of hunger yelling "Let's kill it! And season it! And roast it, slowly over a hot bed of charcoal! And then eat it!" It was a horror show. Animals!
If you need a reason to leave the house today, you just found one. See you at the BBQ.
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May 22, 2006
WELL DONE
Memorial Day Weekend is just around the corner, but sometimes you can't wait to throw a great barbecue. I'd like to extend thanks to my friend Kendra for doing just that. Early rain storms gave way to a beautiful Sunday evening at Manhattan's Whiskey River Tavern, where friends gathered to do some serious grilling. Alpha males Pat and Justin took turns at the grill flipping burgers and dogs. The lovely and talented cook Meghan brought a pasta salad that had some people shoveling food straight from the serving bowl right into their mouths. The manager of a sister bar brought her daughter, who introduced and reintroduced me to every member of her doll collection while complimenting me on my bad hair day. Katie and Eric managed an appearance before she had to head off to work. Later on, even Kendra's parents showed up, the smell of the grill no doubt having reached the Upper East Side. All the while, Kendra ran about, the happy hostess in a bright kitchen apron. It was a highly successful event in my opinion and one I hope reoccurs in the near future. Thanks Kendra!
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April 24, 2006
WHERE IS THE BEEF?
AOL put together a brief and undetailed survey of where one can get the best hamburger in NYC. I'm not going to dispute it; I haven't been to a lot of the places they put on their list. I just make burgers a default selection of menus around town because I'm constantly looking for the same " best burger". And I'm not talking about some $150 ice-cube-melted-in-the-middle-while-being-seared fiasco either. I make a mean burger at home for about $1; I expect similar results for less than a hundred times that cost.
AOL Cityguide listed Peter Luger's as the maker of NYC's best burger. All I can say is one would have to be an absolute jackass to haul onesself out to Peter Luger's and order a burger instead of a steak. Other rankers were J.G. Melons and Corner Bistro, I prefer the former, although the latter's quality is undisputed. One prominent ommission is REDACTED REDACTED's bacon cheeseburger, which outshines any candle held to it in the city. [Redacted to prevent further crowding of an undersized venue.]
If you have any ideas about what was left off the list or overlooked, feel free to comment.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 4:11 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
BRING IT!
With Brooklyn becoming Manhattan's Lower Lower East Side real estate-wise lately, it's nice to see the former borough doing a reverse anschluss, right at the heart of the latter's.
Brooklyn's best cheesecake is coming soon to the Crossroads of the World.
Junior's restaurant plans to bring its legendary desserts - plus fried chicken, brisket and pastrami sandwiches - to the heart of Manhattan with a big new Times Square eatery opening in June.
"We're going to bring the whole Brooklyn experience to Manhattan," said Alan Rosen, whose grandfather opened the original Junior's on Flatbush Ave. more than a half-century ago.
Junior's actually already has an outpost in Grand Central Terminal's lower level and one can buy its cheesecakes on the first level, near Track 35. Brooklyn was an independent city until just over 100 years ago (108, actually.) It's good to see the boroughs' culture disseminating in all directions.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 3:54 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
April 12, 2006
THE LITTLEST CHEF
SOY is a small Japanese restaurant located on Suffolk St. right above Delancey in the Lower East Side. Its proprietor Etsuko Kizawa learned her cooking craft from her mother when growing up, and this becomes evident in the relaxed home-cooked style food and friendly atmosphere. SOY is not a sushi restaurant, rather specializing in soy dishes, although meat and fish items are available. The restaurant also offers a variety of made-on-the-spot beverages like ginger lemonade. Etsuko Kizawa maintains a blog for her restaurant and some of the entries demonstrate why it's such a pleasant place to visit and is a favorite of my nephew. An entry from earlier this week:
We had another incredible run last week. Friday night, my favorite boy Namazzi came for his usuals: a big glass of ginger lemonade, soy croquettes and of course, nameshi. He's been a faithful customer since he was four years old and he'll be seven next week. After meal, he wanted to come help in the kitchen. We were a little busy in the kitchen but the little guy was quietly begging me. So I brought him into the kitchen and told him to sprinkle little sesame here and there, lay avocado slices for spicy tuna bowls, and bring dishes to the front. I guess I inherited the skill to make use of a little person in the kitchen from my mother. She was always able to find me stuff to do to help her, aquiring culinary skills from early age. Namazzi was such a delightful eager help I wondered if I can have my own little slave in the kitchen some day.
Yep, that's my nephew she's talking about helping out in the kitchen above. The kid seems to make a good impression wherever he goes. He even has his picture up on SOY's customer polaroid Wall of Fame in the restaurant. I highly recommend SOY for casual dining. Not only is the service fantastic, but the food is fresh and well prepared. I've been informed that they recently got a liquor license as well, so one may want to try out some of their sake offerings. And if your food looks like it's been prepared by tiny little fingers, now you'll know what's really going on back in the kitchen. A map of SOY's location is available here. Check out SOY's menu here. And those interested in cooking might want to look into taking classes offered at the restaurant.
Gothamist.com's Youngna Park reviewed SOY this week.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 12:47 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
March 19, 2006
HAPPY BELATED ST. PATRICK'S DAY
Anyone who's ever gone out on St. Patrick's Day in NYC ultimately regrets it. It's an ugly affair with inexperienced drinkers overimbibing and making asses of themselves. Generally, it's a good day to stay home. This year, however, I decided to seek haven from metropolitan crapulousness outside of the city, in Boston. There, I spent an afternoon in the belly of the beast, watching basketball games in a bar in the bowels of Fenway Park. I felt like an infidel who'd snuck into Mecca and was constantly on the verge of being found out.
The trip to Boston may seem counterintuitive, but Beantown actually has a much more sedate SPD's atmosphere. There's no parade, so people don't start drinking at 10 am; and perhaps the city's Irish bona fides are so established that there's no reason for overcompensation. I found the whole atmosphere very agreeable, whereas in NYC it's pretty contemptuous.
The only bad thing about Boston is the decision to take the Chinatown bus there. On my way back I was seated in the rear of the bus, between the "bathroom" and a hyperactive 22-year-old kid who wouldn't stop talking to the girl seated in front of us, presumably a friend. It was like being trapped in the back seat of a smelly little clown car with a coked-up circus monkey. For 4 1/2 hours. At that point, my Irish luck had completely run out.
I hope everyone else had a great St. Patrick's Day and will forgive me for not informing them sooner if they live in Boston and I didn't get in touch. It was a very off-the-cuff decision.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 1:33 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
February 8, 2006
MOST RHETORICAL HEADLINE QUESTION OF THE DAY
After clicking past a headline that said "Bottled Water: Is It A Scam?" that I couldn't relocate, I found this one:
Bottled Water: Nectar of the Frauds?
Here's another rhetorical question: Is Today A Slow News Day?
On a more serious note, can we really take these studies seriously? Sure, I know that tap water is just as good as bottled water, but are they really replaceable on a liter-for-liter basis. On the rare occasion that I buy bottled water, it's for the same reason that I go to the bathroom in places other than my apartment. I have a perfectly functional toilet in my place, but guess what? I'm not always there! I suppose I could arrange to equip myself with some catheter-like equipment to use until I got back home to dispose of my waste the same way I could outfit myself with a gallon of water every time I decided to leave my house, but that's really not practical, is it?
People who drink bottled water at home are most likely spendthrift fools. Drink it straight from the tap, or as I like to do, use a Brita if it makes you feel better. But a large increase in people drinking bottled water basically means that people are drinking more water. That's a good thing, right? With constant bitching about obesity and its links to sugar-filled soft drinks, I personally applaud anyone I see chugging water. Although I think we could get rid of the nutritional labels on those bottles. Carbs: 0 gms, Fat: 0 gms, Protein: 0 gms, Calories: 0. No kidding? Talk about wet brain.
Tagged:Posted by Lexiphane at 7:54 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
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