restaurants

week 26: katz's delicatessen

in , ,
when it is two in the morning and you are on the lower east side and you're confused because because just a few moments ago you were on the upper west side at harry's burritos and you just got off the phone with your best friend's dad because you tried calling your best friend but instead his dad answered and you are not quite sure who is more drunk, and somebody just asked you which way to the cruise ship, you know that something fantastic is about to happen:

you are going to eat a katz's pastrami sandwich.

omg.

it wasn't my idea. 
it was sam's.
he's my favorite.
  and when him and i were the last ones standing in a monumental evening of inebriation,
we decided this was our prize.
{last one to vom wins a sandwich!}
here is what i recall:

-thinking there would be a long wait
-there not being a long wait
-being confused about where to order
-receiving a free sample of pastrami while we waited
-ordering a pastrami sandwich and matzoh ball soup
-having an easy time finding a place to sit
-sam eating all of the pickles
-me being ok with it
-getting mad at sam for stealing my soup crackers
-sam repeating,
ohmygod this is amazing
while he stuffed his face
-bread so so so sooo soft, softer than any rye i've ever had
-being confused over which is better:
millburn or katz?
-medium warm medium good matzoh ball soup
-being confused about where to pay
-trying to pay with card
-having to pay with cash
-confusion about tipping
-just... general confusion, but extreme satisfaction
-wanting more


next time?

katz: the sober edition!
but first...
26 more to go!! 
i'm halfway there!!!

xoxo


yeh


katz's delicatessen is on hudson and ludlow in the l.e.s.
it's really really old. 

week 24: baohaus

in , ,

the asians know their bread,
and that's the truf. 

i'm no expert on the east,
but something culinarily spectacular happened where the chinese
 {my 'cestors} 
mastered the art of crustless bread.

{if you've never been to a chinatown bakery, you haven't lived}

this doughy goodness became apparent to me in my youth
in a time where meat,
vegetables,
and crust
were nowhere near my dietary wants (or needs?)

dough balls
were what i called the filling-less version of my favorite chicago dim sum joint's cha sao bao that mum and i used to make...

and the filling in the ones at the restaurant were just another obstacle to get past before indulging in the sweet, pillowy soft buns.

now, although i've since expanded my fave foods to include meat and other things,
the doughy part of the bao has always been the best part.

until
i
tried

on the lower east side

where the bun and the filling go together hand-in-hand like macaroni and cheese,
country fairs and fried things,
and gustav mahler and french horns.

the bun and filling are equally delicious
and each one enhances the other as you gorge.

and i don't know when this started,
but it seems that all the haute baos these days are no longer dough balls
but more like doughy taco things
where the bread dough is flattened out 
and then steamed 
and then wrapped around their hangar steak or berkshire pork belly or tofu 

which is pretty friggen genius if you ask me.

it allows for more filling options,
like cilantro and crushed peanuts and taiwanese red sugar.
{enter a whole new world of tastes}
and allows for prettier pictures {see above}

baohaus' baos are
ridiculous. 
outrageous. 
you've got no idea.

they're cheap,
they're comforting,
and they go well with juice
 hey, juice.

and the tenderness of their perfectly cooked fillings
inside of their maximumly doughy casings 
make for a near-perfect bao.

the only thing i ask is,
why do they have to be served in a closet-sized l.e.s. florescent light land?
why can't they be stationed on the upper west side inside my living room?
and can there be a baohaus truck?
and after eating these, is it possible that i will ever meet a better bao?

i'm really close to calling this the best bao in the world.

but i ain't gonna because
mum might get sad
and because
i've got 28 more restaurants to go!!!


xoxo


yeh




baohaus is located on rivington and norfolk in the glorious lower east side.



week 23: fornino

in , ,

i tried.
i really tried
to stay in that hot williamsburg bar
packed like a sardine
{a sweaty sardine}
standing on my tippy toes
to get a glimpse of the u.s. vs england world cup game...

but in the end
it was that empty, air-conditioned, talked-about pizza bar
that won the rights to my saturday afternoon.

{also, do you know how frustrating it is to start cheering for the team that just scored because half of the bar is cheering--only to find out that you are indeed cheering for the wrong team?}

anyways,

it's fact that probably one of the best times to get into a restaurant that you've been wanting to try but that you haven't wanted to wait for is during some huge sports event.
which is reason why the italian gentlemen in the corner and the sad looking williamsburger waitresses were the only other people in the restaurant.
{as roars explode from the watering hole across bedford...}

i sat in comfort as i perused the menu.

too big and mushroom-filled.

so i got the margherita classica
{see blackberry picture above}

and,
ok,
not that it didn't suck,
but i mean,
the last three pizzas in new york that i ate were from
and kesté.

{snob snob, i am a snob}

don't pounce on me 
-the flavors were gorgeous-

fresh basil grown in their garden
strong badass tomato sauce
and mozzarella that,while it did have the tendency to slide off all in one bite,was pretty darn good.

my beef was with the crust.
that, too, had a beautiful taste
but the texture just could not compete for its life with the other neapolitan pies in this citayy.

i appreciated the burnt-ness on the bottom,
but the dryness? 
no no.

either way,
i'm glad i discovered a new trick for getting into otherwise crowded restaurants:

talking about,
momofuku during the world series,
locanda verde during the super bowl?

...29 to go, sillies!


fornino is on bedford and north 7th in williamsburg, brooklyn

week 22.5: paco meralgo

in ,




update: pictures work!!!!!! yipeee!!!
if you haven't met chris,
i highly recommend it.
he taught me all i know about photo-bombing,
manta-ray fins,

he has an extensive background in ramen,
and he plays drums real good.

today i am honored to have him guest-blogging... 
all the way from 
barcelona!

*****************************************************

Ohai! This is not Molly y - e - h pronounced "yay," 
this is instead Chris Thompson, 
guest-liveblogging some tapas in Barcelona, Spain. 

Let's get right down to it:


New York people tend to eat late, 
but I'm realizing we got nothing on Spain - from what I can tell, 
the evening meal starts between 10 and midnight and it's considered impossibly gauche to be seen in a restaurant before 9 pm. 
It seems like most places don't even open until 8, 
even though they all appear to be set up and ready to go all afternoon 
(almost like they are taunting one jet-lagged hungry traveler). 

I killed time as best I could, 
checked out La Ramblas (where many a sad-faced tourist can be found eating soggy paella at 6:15 PM), 
and walked through the massive La Boqueria market to ogle some pork products:



But then it was 8:15, 
and I realized I was just going to have to swallow my pride, 
waltz right in there and eat, or I was gonna fall over. 
After all, it was waaay past lunch time in NY. 
I'm so glad I did! 
They were super nice, and didn't mock me (or the other 2 people there) for 
rocking the blue-hair special. 
Sure enough, after about a half hour it was packed and crazy and I was happy I got a primo seat at the bar, 
in view of so much FRESHNESS:



My epiphany for the entire meal came within the first 3 minutes. Tomato bread, a common accompaniment to Catalan cuisine, is something so simple I couldn't believe I never experienced it before. I must have had 5 or 6 plates of this stuff by the end of the meal, and I'm now obsessed with learning the proper way to make it. 
Apparently the order of operations is key; 
rub the garlic on the bread, 
then on the tomato, 
then salt it, 
add olive oil, 
sprinkle on a mixture of crack and toasted pixie dust. 
omg you guys, look:



I regret not taking a picture of the awesome Gazpacho, served in a wine glass, but then there were SEA SNAILS 

   

and ANCHOVIES
  


Running theme here is 
"either you will give it a bath in olive oil, or we will do it for you." 
The anchovy bath included copious garlic, no complaints here.

Next there were fried things; eggplants, squid with ink-pouches still attached (but not for long), and PADRÓN PEPPERS:



They reminded me of Japanese fried shishito, 
a little hotter but with the same salty crunch and mysterious paper doily.
Finally, steak tartar "montaditos," in a bread tart 
(which is way more genius than it sounds):



I don't pretend to be a connoisseur of steak tartar, 
but I'll be surprised to ever have another one that lives up to this version. 
It was rich and flavorful but not overpowering and I completely forgot the bloodiness of it all. 

On my way out I caught a birds-eye of the masters at work:



I think I ordered 8 courses and three glasses of Rioja and it cost less than a steak in NY. I'm also thankful I was able to get through this meal with not a word of Spanish, but I think they gave me a pass for having that 
"I ADORE EVERYTHING" 
look on my face the whole time. 
I try to make up for my cultural ignorances with boatloads of appreciation, and it seems to have been a winning strategy so far. 

Paco Meralgo is at Muntaner 171, on the corner of Corsega, 
in Barcelona Spain. Don't even think of showing up before 8 PM.

-chris p thompson

**************************************************************************
thank you chris!!!
come back to new york now please so we can go to hagi please!!


xoxo


yeh