restaurants

week 3: minetta tavern

in ,

i'm going to make this plain and simple: 

there's life before
black label burger
and
there's life after 
the minetta tavern 
black label burger


and in between that,
there's this little slice of heaven
where you don't exactly know how it's possible that a burger can taste this good,
but you know that it does,
and you know that it is the best burger you've ever had,
and you somehow know that it is the best burger you ever will have,
and you are very ok with that.


{you are also very ok with the $26 that you are dropping on it}


i've never decided that about a food before...
that not only is this the best thing i've ever had,
but it is also the best thing i ever will have.
...and here i am at the ripe old age of 20,
 at the climax of my burger eating career.


now, i've never been married before,
but i imagine that this is what finding "the right one" is like.
you know,
sure there are a zillion other men (or burgers)
out there that have yet to be dated (or tasted)
but if this was the last man (burger)
i ever dated (tasted)
i'd be fully satisfied with that.


and here's why i'm allowed to claim this as 
the best burger EVER:


1. he agrees,
he agrees, 
most of them agree,
my teacher agrees
 frank would agree if it weren't $26 (pshhh..),
and someone named the beef aficionado agrees.


2. the shell.
the best things have little shells...
-bagels
-macarons
-french fries
-turtles
but have you ever met a burger with a shell??
with every little bite, 
there was a crunch!
not a burnt type of crunch,
but a completely satisfying and tasty crunch that added a whole new element!


3. the bun did exactly what a bun should do
it was a vehicle for the meat.
it complimented.
it absorbed.
it provided a little pillow. 
it did not try to steal the show.


in essence, 
the bun was the elenor roosevelt to the meat.


4. the burger did not need a single accouterment.
(by default, 
it is topped with grilled onions, but that's part of the package)
it's served with a tomato and lettuce slice,
but i'd argue that's just a formality.
no cheese.
and condiments?
nuh uh.


there are foods that are made to be friends with condiments
(pommes frites, 5napkin, heck- everything could use some mustard)
but even i felt uneasy about even so much as a spec of dijon!
normally for me it's like,
do you want some burger with your mustard?
there is just SO MUCH taste in this burger,
that it need not be covered up with
condiment shenanigans. 


5. the taste
i mean DUH.
but seriously.
you don't even know
you don't even know.


and the added bonuses:


the fries!
no fry has ever been crispy enough
or salty enough for me
{hence the usual mustard slatherage}
but these,
like the burger,
were perfect sans condiment.


the hefeweizen that washed it down


my waitress
a place with food as good as this can afford to have a-hole wait people
cause, i mean, i'd go back either way.
but miss wait was so very nice!


my walk home
approximately a hundred blocks (approximately five miles)
it made me feel fine about eating cows and fries for dinner
and i discovered,
that if you walk up town via the east side,
you completely bypass the sex shops.
...


now people, you hear me:
if you're ever in new york,
if you're not a vegetarian,
{even if you are*}
splurge,
and get a black label burger.


oh how i want another one RIGHT NOW!! but ladies and gents, i've got 49 more restaurants to go!
{still... i'll probably go here again soon}




xoxo




yeh




*"awesome. i'm saving this week's meat day for when i visit you. "
~pescetarian friend rob




minetta tavern is located on macdougal street in the west village






week 2: macaron cafe

in , ,


"did you go to macaron cafe yet??"

reads the almost daily text from mum.


"...no, mum, i have work to do."


"what about now?"




"...i just ate"




"ok, well you must go tomorrow because tomorrow is tuesday and you know that that's croque monsieur day."


"i told you, I HAVE WORK TO DO!"




typical, typical banter. 
and there was no stopping it.
i mean, i knew what i needed to do to stop it.
i could either lie,
tell her i went and that it was fine but her sandwiches were better {which would end any and all interrogation}
or i could just go to the damn macaron cafe.
i really didn't have any reason not to... except that it's in midtown.
spitting distance from penn station. 
oh the horror.


uh oh, i'm getting a text from mum...


"did you hear?? midtown lunch just said that macaron cafe puts bouchon to SHAME! 
OHHHH SNAP!"


relentless, that woman.


anyways,
things got brutally out of hand last tuesday.
it started with a phone call.
not a text, but a phone call.


"soooo.... whatcha doin today?"
"probably gonna go to costco, and then to yoga... maybe practice"
"oh. and macaron cafe?"
"nope, no time for that."
"isn't today--"
"CROQUE MONSIEUR DAY. I KNOW. I REEEEALLLY KNOW. AND I REEEEALLLY TOOK THAT INTO CONSIDERATION WHEN I WAS PLANNING OUT MY DAY. BUT I'M SORRY, IT'S JUST NOT IN THE CARDS."




two hours later, on a walk, circa 88th and amsterdam
phone rings, guess who.


"how was costco?"
"ummm, brian couldn't go, he needed to practice. so i didn't go either."
"PERFECT! YOU CAN GO GET A CROQUE MONSIEUR!"
&p;!@*^&p;%$#@)(*^%$#@
FINE.
*click*




she was right. it was time.


i googled the number, i called, and made a reservation.
not for a table though, 
but for a croque monsieur. 


tell me that's not cute.


it was all because when i called, monsieur croque monsieur told me that, oui, today is croque monsieur day, but they only have "un, deux, trois.... FOUR CROQUE MONSIEURS LEFT!"
so i should probably get there soon.
meaning, i couldn't walk there, i'd have to subway it. 
meaning, i had no choice but to brave penn station.




i survived. 
monsieur croque monsieur greeted me and asked if my croque monsieur would be for here or to go.
i looked around the hot pink closet sized cafe at the two teensy tables,


"but, monsieur, there's no place to sit"


he motioned to an itsy bitsy stool squeezed between an already full coffee table and a wall, as if to say,
"duh, look at ze perfectly good square foot we have rezerved for you!"


i cracked up a bit, and took a seat. 


a few feet to my right was the oven used to heat my c.m.
within minutes, i was served up this piping hot beauty:





and ohhh it was decadent.
the way the béchamel sauce OOZED out from between the freshly cut ham
and the freshly baked {crusty, yes, very crusty} bread
ohh and the melted cheese on top, 
how it crackled with every bite! 
ah! if i wasn't so closely smooshed up against total strangers,
i would have licked every last drop of béchamel off of the plate!


i had an orangina to wash it down.


and for dessert, 
i took home a variety of french macaroons...
which i must restrain myself from raving about just yet because when midtown lunch compared them to bouchon's, my initial reaction was
"oh no you DIDN'T"
and then i promptly decided that i'd be comparing them for myself innnn (drum roll, s'il vous plait)


the macaroon smackdown
bouchon bakery vs. macaron cafe: who will take ze cake?
coming soon to a blog near you




i digress.




i want another macaron croque monsieur. RIGHT NOW. but, mes amies, i've got 50 more restaurants to go...



xoxo


yeh




macaron cafe is located on 36th street, just east of 7th ave 


p.s. did you know that today was no pants day in new york?

what's black and white and red all over?

in , ,


homemade black & white cookies
sprinkled with red jimmies
{that i made for bestie brian... 
who has not left his practice room since 2009}


-used this recipe
-discovered that buttermilk is what gives them their distinctive taste!
-they were scrumptious. 
then again. not many black and white cookies compare to the ones at barney greengrass




xoxo




yeh








p.s. i tried roquefort and morbier this evening.
i liked roquefort in that masochistic sort of way.
and morbier was good... in a... vague sort of way...