New York Restaurants by Area – Page 14 – Writing With My Mouth Full

Inakaya

231 West 40th Street between Seventh and Eighth
212/354.2195
$65 for two, with drinks, without tip
♥ ♥

Inakaya is a good place for two kinds of dates: one, an awkward first date when neither have to nervously talk but still have a good time; two, a long-term couple date when almost anything can slip by and forgiven by the end of the night. For the first couple, they can’t really have a quiet conversation while dining at Inakaya because it’s a robatayaki, also known as robata, or an open grill where every few minutes a chorus of waiters and chefs shout and repeat customers’ orders. For the long-timers, they may be amused with the very lively setting and shrug off another date night out.

The Dr. and I belong to the latter. We were to meet midtown for dinner to eat sushi, but we didn’t want to spend too much money. I was at the new Muji store inside the New York Times building and noticed Inakaya next door. It was only a week old when we visited, but it was already packed with Japanese salarymen who perhaps wanted to support the establishment’s efforts. There were a few families as well and the younger kids seemed to enjoy all the screaming. Some of them even participated in the mochi-making presentation by the window where a giant pestle is used to mush up the soy.

The robatayaki‘s origin leads back to the city of Sendai in the northeast region of Japan. The chefs sit on their shins wearing ninja-like socks surrounded by carefully-selected fresh ingredients. At Inakaya, it’s orchestrated how they kneel and reach out for the produce and they use the same fluid moves to serve the finished dishes. Long wooden paddles are used so that the chefs can reach you from across the grill while the rest of your order is served by kimono-wearing waiters.

The food can’t get any better for something across the Port Authority bus terminal. The oysters came from the west coast, and even though they lightly touched the grill, they still tasted like the ocean. The day’s sashimi special came from Tsukiji Market that morning but I don’t remember it being out of our budget. We unfortunately skipped the beautiful marbled meats that were displayed in front of us–we weren’t in the mood for red meat–but we couldn’t say no to the buttery uni.

It’s nice to know that there’s a place to go to to escape the mediocrity of Hell’s Kitchen and the awfulness of fast-food kingdom at Times Square. Now I know where to eat if I ever find myself at the bus station or the AMC movie theater next door even if it means putting up with a little bit more of noise.

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.

Irving Mill

116 East 16th Street between Irving Place and Union Square East
212/254.1600â€Ž
$129 for three, with beers, with tip
♥

Wow, they made a big deal about the burgers here. Don’t get me wrong: they were satisfying, but nothing more incredible than what other places in the city has to offer. It also didn’t make up for the confused service we received from our waiter who seemed out of it.

We ordered a few appetizers with our burgers to split between the three of us: salt and pepper pork ribs, crispy pigs’ ears salad with radicchio topped with creme fraiche and arugula-shiitake mushroom salad. We also ordered a side of kale to eat with our burgers. It was perplexing when our waiter brought all the vegetables for appetizers, leaving my friend eating the kale while two of us ate our salads. When we brought this to our waiter’s attention, he seemed to forget that the kale is offered as a side on the menu.

For shiitake, mine looked very much like button mushrooms. I couldn’t pin-point if it was the lack of dressing or tossing of ingredients together in a bowl, but they didn’t meld with the greens. What I expected to be a hearty salad was really dry and boring. I’ve had better salad from delis than this one. The salt and pepper pork ribs brought the same unexciting feeling. How can anything be well-seasoned and at the same time taste bland? When the busboy took away my plate, he spilled the leftover rib juice on our table and we watched as it remained on our table until we had to leave.

I ordered my burger medium-rare but it was pretty rare inside. I didn’t mind it, but I know that that would be unacceptable to many. The fries on the side were limp and soggy. At this point, our waiter disappeared and never returned. We had two different guys bring us coffee and our bill.

The saving grace of the night was the crispy pigs’ ears salad. They were truly crispy and mouth-watering but I would have been more satisfied without the creme fraiche on it. If the service was more pleasant, we would have stayed and ordered extra drinks to try and salvage our night, but we couldn’t wait to get out of there and just give our waiter a break.

Fuleen Seafood Restaurant

11 Division Street between Catherine and Market
212/941.6888â€Ž
$35 for two, without drinks, with tip
♥ ♥

We were in Chinatown, in our usual nursing home mood, craving soup and vegetables when I upped the ante: Should we try something new? I don’t know, man. As far as I’m concerned, everything past Bowery is cat territory. We cracked up but we crossed the street anyway. We walked by Fuleen and it was packed. With Chinese people! It must be good right? Chinese people eating Chinese food? So we walked in.

We skipped the menu and asked our elderly waiter about the pot the Chinese family next to us was devouring. Fish head stew with leeks and ginger, he said. Fish head! We’ll get that!
Trying something new, even for us, is difficult because we already know what we like in a Chinese restaurant and we never want to end up with sweet and spicy chicken with broccoli. Unless we’re with someone who speaks Chinese, we count on our usual fare: xiao long bao and fish steamed with chives from Joe’s Shanghai or dan dan noodles and smoked tofu with celery from Grand Sichuan.

The fish head was a lot of work but the flavor was all there. Every bit of meat we managed to suck and prod out was our reward for persevering. The leeks gave the dish balance and kept the ginger from being too overpowering. With a little bit of white rice and pea shoot leaves on the side, we were full and satisfied. Our waiter recognized our efforts by serving us complementary winter melon soup and a sweet jelly dessert at the end of our meal.

Crossing Bowery paid off after all. Now we wonder what else is up on the horizon.