Brooklyn – Page 3 – Writing With My Mouth Full

The Grocery

288 Smith Street between Sackett and Union in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn
718/596.3335
about $125 for two, without drinks, without tip
♥ ♥

We were in Brooklyn to visit friends who were house and dog sitting while on vacation from San Francisco. When it was time to eat dinner, another friend–a Brooklynite–quickly suggested The Grocery. It’s one of his favorite haunts but he has never visited in the summer when the garden is open, so when we arrived we asked to be seated out back to enjoy the warm summer breeze.

The Grocery’s staff works from a kitchen half the size of a New York City apartment’s. You can imagine how tight it was in there to maneuver but somehow they make it work because they churned out some of the best meals I’ve had this summer. And I do not say churn lightly: we waited for almost thirty minutes to get our appetizers. The waitstaff were so busy running the front and the back that it took twenty minutes to get the menu. We had to order wine with our food because she forgot to show us the wine list while we waited for her to reappear to give us glasses of water.

Because we haven’t seen our Californian friends for a while, we didn’t mind the wait even though we didn’t have anything to drink. We passed the time catching up and talking about our respective lives. We realized we had been waiting too long when the youngest member of the family behind us whined so loudly about being hungry–they were already seated when we came in to wait for fifteen minutes to complete our party.

But when the food came, the short-staffed restaurant delivered as if they worked out of a professional and very spacious kitchen. The slow-rendered duck breast was superb in caramelized red wine sauce with baby carrots and beet greens. I would most likely wait another forty minutes to eat this again. The toasted farro salad was a nice break because of the summer greens in a very interesting sorrel vinaigrette that gave the dish a kick and acidity. The roasted beets were nothing new, but they were perfectly cooked. One of my favorites was the fried artichoke because of its texture. The little crunch lent beautifully to the escarole and the Parmesan. For dessert, I was very happy to get the wild strawberries with the buttermilk panna cotta. You can’t get small and tart strawberries from supermarkets anymore, so I was very pleased that they featured them unadorned. The warm peach cobbler made everyone else happy as we took turns scooping it out of its ramekin.

At the Grocery, the wait time is longer than I want it to be but the food showcases the season’s best and the cooks in the kitchen make up for the service that needs sharpening.

Brooklyn’s Kitchen at Brooklyn Fare

200 Schemerhorn Street in downtown Brooklyn
718/243.0050
$70 each ($95 starting November 2009), BYOB, without tip
♥ ♥ ♥

The Daily News just crowned the area around 200 Schemerhorn “Downtown Brooklyn’s hot pocket”. A friend lives upstairs and got incredibly lucky with one of the market-rate rentals before the neighborhood exploded. This means he’s also one of the many fortunate residents who get to shop at Brooklyn Fare, the gourmet grocery store that occupies the space on street level.

Cesar Ramirez is the chef responsible for the store’s prepared foods, but after hours, he turns into Batman and whips up an incredible tasting menu in the store’s kitchen. Up to a dozen people get to eat and drink their own bottles of booze a few times a week. He spent eight years at Boulud and all his training comes through in his intensity. He talked about how everything he was doing had been done before and that all the dishes we were eating were just his own take. He made everything effortless even though each dish looked and tasted like it took some extra time to make.

Before they started service, he snorted at me for taking photographs without asking him for permission. He clearly hadn’t been around annoying food lover types before but he softened up when I volunteered to stow my camera away. He loved having us as an audience and found great satisfaction when we expressed contentment. Here’s a rundown of why we were content:

Hibiscus flower shot. When I was growing up in the Philippines, we mashed hibiscus flowers with a big rock and added it to a container of powdered detergent and water to make our own bubbles. We used the flower stems and fashioned them into rings to blow the bubbles from if hollow papaya stalks were nowhere to be found. I’ve seen hibiscus flowers during my travels around Central America and they’ve always reminded me of that memory. Drinking it like a shot of soup was a completely different story. The flower is naturally gelatinous; Cesar showed us the dried chips he used to make it into a clear juice. It wasn’t thick, but it had that delicious viscosity.

Deep-fried calf brains. I was glad that Cesar decided not to write it down on the menu. We didn’t know the other diners we sat next to and across from us and the last thing I wanted to hear was a complaint about offal. I just had calf brains at Lamb and Jaffy a week before my night at Brooklyn Fare so I had a chance to compare: this version was 100% better. Cesar’s was crispier because it went straight from the fryer to our plates. It looked like a small perfect dumpling on a bed of chives with mayonnaise and mustard.

Oyster on a bed of green sauce. I forgot what the green was made of, but looking at this photograph now, I only have one thing to say: sexxxxxy.

I was reminded of one of my meals at Blue Hill Stone Barns when the tomato plate was served. From right to left: tomato marshmallow, tomato water with cream turned into panna cotta, reconstructed bocconcini on top of tomato purée, a tomato gelée and a stewed tomato top that tasted like an intense sundried tomato. The plate was peppered with small slices of seasoned grape tomatoes and then drizzled with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. I was in complete awe of this dish.

No, wait. I was in awe of this dish. In a beautiful ridged bowl from JL Coquet, three kinds of grains were toasted–black rice, bulghur wheat and quinoa–and topped with an egg gently and slowly cooked sous-vide. The egg whites were made into a crème fraîche-like texture that contrasted well with the crunch of the grains. Every time I scooped, my spoon scratched the ridges of the bowl and it delightfully added to the sound in my mouth. It was such a beautiful dish, I still sigh just thinking about it.

The most decadent dish came up next: langoustine with a tiny Oregon snail and a perfectly-cooked scallop topped with an unexpected sheet of speck. The green sauce was tarragon and parsley. I was pretty much full after this because of how rich the three pieces were. The Dr. and I looked at each other and agreed that they couldn’t be making money off this venture. Clearly, Cesar and his sous-chef, Juan, were given free rein in the kitchen by the Brooklyn Fare owners. The only objective was to cook whatever they want, however they want and use whatever ingredients the market provided.

Summer came next: asparagus pieces, shredded green peas, pickled giant beans and sweet corn kernels. A sheet of crispy spinach purée topped it all. I would have been okay with the mix of vegetables, but they were more than generous and served it with a nice chunk of halibut. Halibut is always a bland fish for me but a very meaty one; it paired deliciously with the veggies.

Unbelievably, another dish was served: Maine lobster with port and red wine reduction mixed with a green foam of, I think, parsley. Molecular gastronomy has come a long way from when no one paid attention to it except Wylie Dufresne, to everyone foaming everything in the kitchen. But I’ll take foam any time, even Top Chef‘s Marcel’s, if it makes my plate presentation pretty.

I have no idea how I even ate the duck after all that. The small piece of duck was encased in an artichoke and in another green paste. The artichoke resembled the duck skin and fat. A most beautifully seared and steamed foie gras chunk sat on the side with a bed of–watch out–puréed foie gras. It seemed like a preparation perfect for squab as well.

For dessert, Juan prepared a mango parfait. The glass was sealed with a sheet of mango purée which made eating it more fun because you had to tap it “open” with your spoon. I had no idea dicing mango that fine would result in a tingly texture in my mouth. I should dice my yellow mango more often!

We finished our own bottle of wine with all the food Cesar and Juan prepared after four hours. We left a hefty tip because we’ve never had dinner that tasted home-cooked but with so much finesse dedicated to it. Now that the word is out about these Brooklyn Fare dinners, the price has gone up to $95 per person because of recent high demand. It’s still the best deal in the city of this caliber, so I highly suggest that you make your way to Brooklyn before prices go up again. Good prices never last, but I hope Cesar and Juan keep churning their hearts out in the kitchen.

Bubby’s Pie Co.

1 Main Street in DUMBO, Brooklyn
718/222.0666
$45 for two, with a drink, without tip
♥ ♥

We descended on the island of Brooklyn earlier than we would want to be, but Bubby’s was already teeming with young families and baby strollers. We squeezed ourselves past the waiting crowd and told the maitre d’ we would take the two empty seats at the bar. At Bubby’s, the bar is the way to go if there’s less than four of you so you avoid the long wait, but you also sacrifice service.

At the bar, we ordered a bloody Mary and a diet Coke. We split the grass-fed burger and opted for a salad instead of fries and shared a side of two eggs over-easy and bacon. As soon as our plates were placed in front of us, it took more than ten minutes to start eating because we had to wait for our waiter to walk by so that we can remind him about the ketchup and mustard. I walked to the other end to find one of the two guys running the bar, but couldn’t find them. When one of them came out of the kitchen, I couldn’t get his attention until he returned to our side of the bar to hear the lady next to us complain about her eggs. (She ordered fried and got scrambled instead.) But when we finally started eating, it was a very pleasant burger, and not because we were extremely hungry but because it as juicy, perfectly medium-rare and well-seasoned. The salad was boring so we mixed in some of the egg yolks with it to give it a kick. In fact, forget about well-crafted salads when you go to Bubby’s: order anything that’s heartier and heavier than a bowl of freshly tossed vegetables and expect to wait.

Searching for a Good Taco: Sunset Park, Brooklyn

Look what you did, Jase said as he pointed to the window. It was snowing even though the weather channel reported rain for the day. It wasn’t taco-eating weather but we had work to do: we will find a good taco in Sunset Park, Brooklyn.

Sunset Park, Brooklyn experienced its heyday during World War II when the Brooklyn Army Terminal employed more than 10,000 people to help ship to American troops. Like any other neighborhood, it reach its peak and lost its allure to families who wanted to move to the suburbs. All of a sudden, the rowhouses that would remind you of San Francisco were no longer valuable. By 1990, 50% of Sunset Park’s population consisted of Puerto Ricans and Dominicans. Today, Brooklyn Chinatown is along Eighth Avenue, while Seventh is favored by Indians from Gujarat and Fifth Avenue by Mexicans. It was this detail that made me drag Jase to the main drag to search for a good taco.

I had a small list and I gave the Jase my usual rules: a chorizo taco is a good start, but we’ll order the weirdest thing they have available. Jase had his, too: No head, no tripe, no eyes, no ears. I nodded to say, Yeah, yeah, yeah, because I know I’ll try my best to convince him to eat them anyway. Luckily for him, the trucks were nowhere to be found because it was the middle of the day and most of the hole-in-the-walls were covered with plywood. We ended up walking from 44th Street to 55th and ducking in each place that didn’t look too fancy.

1. Tacos Nuevos Mexico III, 44-10 Fifth Avenue, 718/686.8151

Where was I and II? This was the first place we spotted as soon as we turned the corner on Fifth Avenue. It was past noon and we were famished. Upon confirmation that they were open for business–no one was inside and the kitchen looked sparkly clean–we sat down and ordered one carnitas taco and one chorizo. Two of each came and all four were slathered with wet guacamole. I like avocados; I just don’t like them in my tacos because they end up hiding the flavor of the meat. I realized I hadn’t done this taco search in a while that I forgot to let the waitress know that guacamole and sour cream were no-nos. In any case, the carnitas were very soft and fatty, while the chorizo was salty and spicy. We devoured them with Diet Cokes and we were very satisfied with everything, guac and all.

2. Tacos Xochimilco, 45-01 Fifth Avenue, 718/435.7600

The lengua, or beef tongue, at Xochimilco tasted like it had been cooking for hours. It was sweet and it fell apart at each prod of a plastic fork. The tripe was surprisingly delicious. I am used to having them a little chewy with its natural offal taste included, but this one was just right. Jase ended up liking the tongue, too: Like Mom’s Sunday pot roast.

3. La Guera, 46-03 Fifth Avenue, 718/437.0232

La Guera had the cheapest of all the tacos we tasted. A small one cost us $1.25 when we thought the $1.50 at Xochimilco was already a good deal. But you get what you pay for: the pastor taco tasted too earthy here; a little bit dry, with only a small chunk of pineapple and a spritz of lime juice to save it. The buche, one of my favorite types of taco, or the stomach, was just a load of flavorless fat.

4. Tacos California, 46-16 Fifth Avenue, 718/439.1661

I usually avoid restaurants that bill itself as “authentic” but we were getting full and the snow had turned to steady rain. We needed to stay dry and warm, so we went in here to take a break while a Mexican soap opera blasted overhead. We ordered a taco that was called an enchilada with “spicy pork” in parentheses. From my understanding of fast foods, enchilada is a bigger tortilla stuffed with anything as long as tomato sauce is involved. I was right, but it was awkward to eat because it was half the expected size. Notes of paprika and cumin were included, two of my favorites spices, but the tomato definitely tasted like it came from a can. Jase refused to try the cabeza, or the head, which was too bad because it was the restaurant’s saving grace. It was fatty and gelatinous and full of flavor–my lips were coated in natural fat soon after.

5. Tulcingo, 55-20, Fifth Avenue, 718/439.2896

By the time we entered Tulcingo, Jase and I were giving up. I felt defeated after just six tacos, but alas, good things must come to an end. Every place we went to had orejas, or ears, on the menu, but only Tulcingo actually had them. The last time Jase and I had pigs’ ears, they were fried, and he wished these were, too, instead of just boiled to death. But I did like the crunchy cartilage even if the skin felt more like Jell-O in my mouth. The chorizo here was mediocre, though I liked how it was spicier than the first one we had.

All in all, we had some good tacos but nothing that blew me away. We split one Negro Modelo to end our late lunch date and toasted to our rainy Mexican day in Sunset Park, Brooklyn. Looks like it’s time to take a trip out west to satisfy my taco craving this year.

M & I International Foods

M & I International Foods is the place to go to for Russian imports and other Eastern European produce here in New York City. “Brighton Beach” came from a naming contest that reminded the developers of a beach resort in Brighton, England. In the 1950s, the neighborhood welcomed its first settlers of second-generation Americans from Holocaust survivors. Twenty years later, refugees from the former Soviet Union started calling it their own Little Odessa.

After the long subway ride from the upper west side, we finally reached the Brighton Beach stop on the Q. The weather was damp and gray, but I couldn’t imagine a more perfect setting to stay in one place and eat. And then I realized I didn’t bring my camera! Ack! Good thing Cameron brought hers and it saved the day.

Pickles and Slaws:

I love a good slaw. Take away the mayonnaise and I’ll eat crunchy cabbage with bite. I also couldn’t get enough of their cucumber pickles. I ended up taking home two pints and they were all gone three days later.

Fish:

I love me some herring, but for the sake of pacing ourselves and trying something new(ish), I opted for the trout, the sturgeon and the sardines instead. The trout was smoked and naturally sweet; the sturgeon salted and dried; the sardines icky and fishy. We pulled the guts out and I just couldn’t finish eating it. Somehow, it was very different from a refined slice atop sticky rice and some nori.

Fat and Meats:

I’ve looked forward to the Russian lardo ever since I watched the Andrew Zimmern episode about New York City. Because everyone behind the counter at M & I only speaks English when prodded, I found it painful to ask the surly old lady to slice it for me like prosciutto. Our plastic utensils didn’t help slice through the large chunk of fat when we tried to consume it at the store, but it was so lovely when I got home! One swipe of my Global knife and the Dr. and I were picking at it and drinking it with a bold red wine. It’s still in the fridge, but we’ve been doing damage ever since.

The smoked belly was one of the prettiest things I saw at the store. I mean, just check out the mustard seeds on it! As expected, each small bite was soft and fatty, but very succulent and sweet.

Probably the best thing we ate all day was the pressed beef tongue. You’ll devour it as fast as we did if you could just get past the gristly look of it. Don’t let the appearance fool you, though. The texture is smooth and jelly-like and each slice goes down like a well-cooked piece of beef.

Warm Food:

Upstairs in the small café, we pointed at a few pieces to try: baba ghanoush, bell peppers and eggplants, cabbage leaves stuffed with pork, potato lattkes stuffed with chicken and mushrooms.

There were plenty of freshly-baked breads, phyllo-wrapped everything and interesting-looking pastries made of honey, almonds and apricots. I even drank a coriander soda that tasted like a watered-down Robitussin. (No, that wasn’t good.) Four hours later, we’ve gone up and down the three-level grocery and deli store and have sampled all kinds of familiar and not-so-familiar delicacies from very far away places. All we had to do was take the subway.

M & I International Foods is at 249 Brighton Beach Avenue in Brighton Beach, Brooklyn.