American – Page 3 – Writing With My Mouth Full

Dovetail

103 West 77th Street between Amsterdam and Columbus Avenues
212/362-3800
about $167 for two, with drinks, with tip
♥ ♥ ♥

Oh, this is your place? asked John Fraser, Dovetail’s chef. Erin and I ran into him as we were leaving the restaurant and we started telling him about our vegetarian-vegan restaurant project for this site. Erin has been bringing me to her places for the past month and now it’s my turn to bring her to one of mine.

Dovetail has expanded their space. Gone is the sliver of a bar by the entrance; there’s actually a small room that looks out 77th Street now. I’ve eaten at Dovetail several times, but I guess it’s been a while since my last visit. The private room next to the kitchen is still downstairs though, and one day, I would like an intimate dinner there with some of my closest friends. Besides the space, not much has changed. The staff is still churning some impressive plates and concocting some fancy cocktails (what happened to the Asian hipster with the funky hair?); their pastry chef, Vera Tong, is still wowing diners with her amazing desserts.

Dovetail started serving vegetable-focused menus on Monday nights and I thought it would be perfect to take Erin to one of my favorite restaurants to show her how talented kitchens could–and should–whip up vegetable, and even vegan, dishes. At $42 for four courses including dessert, it’s a deal you really can’t beat. The selections were so ridiculously difficult to choose from that I had to order an extra course. I simply couldn’t make up my mind between the sea urchin and the chanterelle mushrooms.

There are fewer vegan choices, but Erin didn’t have a problem eating the peach salad with the avocados. I read that they came brushed with chili oil, but I was wondering if aged balsamic vinegar was involved as well. Her tofu had a hint of lemongrass in the chai curry: it was bright and didn’t weigh down the tempura breading. She needed my help by the time she got to the barbecue parsnip rib with potatoes, pineapple and peanuts and I was glad to pick on her plate.

I started with the lightly-breaded and fried squash blossom stuffed with cauliflower. A frisée salad had a salty kick with small bits of smoked trout which was in turn held back by the horseradish and peppermint white sauce. The “chanterelles on a shingle” came next, a play on a traditional wartime dish called Shit on a Shingle (or SOS) made of heavy cream. The Brussels sprouts were pebble-sized and tender and gave good texture to the soft figs. The military would have loved this version better.

What came next blew my mind away: congee flavored with shiso leaves and topped with braised cucumbers and uni. It was so delicate and yet the flavors came out so strong. If John Fraser himself came up with this dish, then I want to have a drink with John Fraser. This dish, this dish is what makes a cook a chef. I ended with the button mushroom gnocchi in Bordelaise sauce. It was a little heavy after that heavenly porridge, but the radish cut through the French sauce. The butternut squash reminded me that autumn is here and if I eat any more Dovetail-caliber food in the next few months, I hope it stays.

Sandwiches For Lunch, Downtown New York City

I had one day off between the old job and the next, so I planned a sandwich tour to make up for all those missed New York City lunches while I was in Connecticut. Three sandwich shops were recommended to me by my friend Josh; I needed his help because I’ve been out of the food scene for what I felt was too long. He told me to pick one and enjoy, but true to Cia-style, I went to all three and enlisted my friend Dex to help me put everything down.

Each sandwich shop occupied a sliver of a space, with Torrissi a tad more spacious to accommodate more than three tables. They all had short, straightforward menus, good unpretentious vibes and pretty damn good sandwiches. I give them all ♥ ♥

Rbbts
142 Sullivan Street between Prince and Houston

We ordered the jerk chicken sandwich, the most promising item on their menu. The fish tacos sounded good as well, but they didn’t have them the day we stopped by. The jerk chicken was on the salty side but it was full of flavor and they didn’t skimp on the chicken. A bowl of rice with it would have made me a very happy person, but I’ll take that fresh, crusty bread for lunch just fine.

Local Café
144 Sullivan Street between Prince and Houston

Next door at Local, we opted for the panini with fresh mozarella from Joe’s Dairy. You can’t go any more local than that: Joe’s Dairy has been a fixture of Sullivan Street for so many years even before SoHo exploded into the shopping mecca of downtown New York City. The contrast between the warm, toasty bread against the soft, giving cheese was incredible. The caprese combination is nothing new, but simplicity done well makes a good impression.

Torrisi Italian Specialties
250 Mulberry Street off Prince Street

We walked off the two sandwiches and headed east to Torrisi. Of all the shops we visited, Torrisi is the type of shop I dream of opening in my next life, complete with hanging sausages and aged meats. We kept a low profile and opted for three of their Italian antipasti: fried cauliflower, roasted rabe and roasted bell peppers.

Perhaps it was the time of day, but Torrisi was more bustling than the previous two and we had to wait fifteen minutes before we could eat. It got even busier when the clock hit 2pm and the line wrapped in front of the counter and out the door. I’ll definitely be back again for their sandwiches when I can spend more leisure time to wait.

And during my first week at the new job, I tried the following to add to this set of reviews:

Num Pang Sandwich Shop
21 East 12th Street off University Avenue

I couldn’t wait to taste Num Pang’s pulled pork sandwich after my other friend Caroline told me she thought about it days after she first tasted it. After a late night out, I stopped by to order one duroc pork sandwich with honey and added the ginger barbecued brisket to compare it with. Both smelled delicious and were very filling, but were essentially Cambodian stews in a sandwich. I could have easily eaten the filling with a bowl of white rice. It was humid outside and the sandwiches brought me back to those warm Southeast Asian nights.

Luke’s Lobster
93 East 7th Street off First Avenue

I waited in line for about ten minutes before I was able to order my lobster roll. I waited another fifteen before I actually got my order to-go. Such is the price you have to pay when you join the queue at the sandwich shop du jour and you’re competing with other customers who are also changing their status on Facebook, checking in on Four Square, reviewing on Yelp and, well, spooning on UrbanSpoon.

Luke’s lobster roll, albeit smaller than the rest of the east coast’s, was worth it because I can’t just walk around New York City and get a fresh and trustworthy lobster roll. Was it better than the other rolls I’ve had in Amagansett or Narragansett? It was comparable, but I’ll take it when the craving to spend $14 on a sandwich hits me.

Harlem Wing & Waffle

2394 Adam Clayton Powell Boulevard on 140th Street
212/281.1477
$10 for one, without drinks, with tip
♥

It was counter-productive to bike eight miles in Central Park and only end up eating the calories I lost, but I was famished and Harlem Wing & Waffle called my name.

I have no idea who thought of fried chicken and waffles together, but he or she was a genius. It’s not the best friend chicken in the neighborhood, but when you’re feeling snackish, it’s the perfect combination.

Diner

85 Broadway between Wythe and Berry Streets in Williamsburg, Brooklyn
718/486.3077
about $140 for three people, with cocktails, with tip
♥ ♥ ♥

We waited for our Marlow & Sons seats at the Diner’s bar next door. After comparing the menu between the two sister restaurants, we knew we had to go back to the Diner to try theirs out. The Diner had the more exciting and elaborate menu for less of the wait. Weeknights are definitely less busy, but this block which used to be dominated by Peter Luger’s, is no longer quiet. Hipsters in plaid shirts congregate outside to meet friends, smoke a cigarette and finish a cocktail.

The menu is longer than next door’s and for some reason, management expects the servers to memorize the entire thing including the details of each dish. We cringed as our waitress struggled to remember what was in the pork rilette. I wanted to pat her hand and comfort her when she juggled her words between the frisée and the market salad.

The only struggle involved when the food came was who would get a bigger bite of which. The butternut squash apple soup was delicious and hearty made even better by chanterelles. The flatbreads’ caramelized onions came through so strongly, I wished I could serve them as appetizers at home. The specks of apples on them just showed how much the restaurant was taking advantage of the seasonal produce. Someone in the kitchen was definitely making them with love.

The beef burger was to die for: meat juice escaped from our mouths without the bread breaking up and getting soggy. The mussels were a good match to our basil cocktails and cold lagers and the market salad was a wonderful break that cut through all the lardon.

We were aching by the time the waitress came back for the dessert options. We saved her from having to recite and write them on our paper tablecloths by skipping them entirely.

Marlow & Sons

81 Broadway between Wythe and Berry Streets in Williamsburg, Brooklyn
718/384.1441
about $96 for two people, without drinks, with tip
♥

No paying customer should have to wait an hour and a half to be seated at any restaurant. No one deserves to wait an extra forty-five minutes to eat after that. Alas, we suffered both while sitting on a sliver of wood under some canned goods on a shelf. Twice someone had to excuse herself to reach for a few items while we ate. But at least there weren’t five of us squeezed in the corner of a shared table by the door like those next to us–they looked more uncomfortable on their small Goldilocks chairs than we were on our bench. Welcome to much-hyped Williamsburg, Brooklyn.

When our oysters came, the waiter couldn’t tell us which ones were briny. We had to share our beer and onion soup using one spoon because he never returned with our request for another. I had to get up and get our own forks and knives from the counter when he abruptly put down our plate of brick chicken on our table without a pause. It took another twenty minutes to get our tab; we could have probably just skipped and no one would have noticed our absence.

I liked the dimly-lit and wooden look of Marlow & Sons because I’ve always liked the idea of eating in a market setting, but the staff struggle during the week and can barely eke it out for weekend service. Luckily for them, a lot of New Yorkers will carry the burden of waiting for seats and food just to be surrounded by what’s new and hip.