tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58849668804008667852024-03-05T00:46:42.516-05:00The Good LifeAll things culinary, in New York and beyond.Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.comBlogger94125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-70465678288690088322019-11-26T20:44:00.004-05:002020-04-20T11:00:57.538-04:00I'm on the GRAM, guys!Well hello there. At some point, I promise to not only start this blog back up, but to reconfigure it and stuff. Until then, I have an Instagram account, which I invite all of you kind souls to follow at:<br />
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<a href="http://instagram.com/sharon_the_aspiring_chef">instagram.com/sharon_the_aspiring_chef</a><br />
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Enjoy everyone.Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-41035665761244794232013-11-18T21:05:00.003-05:002013-11-18T21:48:18.666-05:00The Marrow: A Reason to Blog!<i>This blog entry is dedicated to Bob. You know who you are, Bob. Feel better!</i><br />
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Most of you probably forgot I had this blog. I forgot I had this blog, too. (It’s been pointed out to me on more than one occasion that I tend to dabble in hobbies. For a few years it was this blog, then it was a fast and furious love affair with kickboxing; at this moment, it's photography.)<br />
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But the past is the past. It won't do any of us any good if I name drop any more of the places I went while the blog went dark, especially where my good friend Eileen took me this past April as a 35th birthday present. I’ll just say it had three Michelin stars. And it was French. And the chef was very hot. And the name started with "Le." <br />
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What made me recall I had a blog in the first place was my dining experience over the weekend. My mind was so blown that the very next day I began writing a thank-you note to the restaurant. Then I crafted a review on OpenTable (those clowns cut me off after like 50 characters). I was just about to dig up my username on Yelp when I had an epiphany that I could write anything I wanted on my own website, ie: here! So "here" is what follows:<br />
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I’ve long been a fan of<i> Top Chef</i> Season 1 winner Harold Dieterle, owner of Manhattan hotspots Perilla and Kin Shop. While strategizing where to take my good friend Eileen for her birthday, my co-worker and fellow foodie Joe mentioned Dieterle had opened a new contemporary German/Italian style restaurant called The Marrow about a year ago in the West Village. I perused the menu. “Who can resist German/Italian fusion?” I thought to myself. I knew I couldn’t, now that I knew it existed. From there, it was easy to convince Eileen that that’s where she wanted to go for her birthday.<br />
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The Marrow’s <a href="http://www.themarrownyc.com/index.php" target="_blank">website</a> has some great pictures of the decor, as well as of the food (Eileen took some pretty sub-par pics on her phone, which I’ll include despite their sub-par nature because people love pictures). What the site fails to capture is just how awesome the musical selection is. We heard Hendrix, Zeppelin, Bon Jovi, Journey, Poison, even some rap as the evening went on. I LOVE restaurants that have polished food, service and décor, yet create a non-pretentious, friendly vibe ala the playlist.<br />
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Our server Karla made her awesomeness known early in the evening, as well. Eileen was looking for a cocktail that “masked the taste of alchohol” (ie: a girly drink). When Karla realized Eileen wasn’t drinking the first cocktail she brought out, she offered to replace it right away with something bubbly and girlier. Out appeared The Marrow 75 (gin, lemon, sage, blanc de blancs), which Eileen loved.<br />
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For apps, we chose: <b>The Ricotta Cavatelli</b> <i>$16 (Baby arugala, pinenuts, lemon, and parmesan)</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg4oMxteaMmJe3JcE_7ULfIFmhhIpbR3pPd2VsgwP4knUe-mM9BtgmqtRGhE442N2z_G-3k_wvSw8kF5DIdKfxODbiPDlgVflFz-4sIidgjqXQsSM-aRlf8EEaoZLEH2AFKAqw7Mdqtsw/s1600/marrow_cavatelli.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg4oMxteaMmJe3JcE_7ULfIFmhhIpbR3pPd2VsgwP4knUe-mM9BtgmqtRGhE442N2z_G-3k_wvSw8kF5DIdKfxODbiPDlgVflFz-4sIidgjqXQsSM-aRlf8EEaoZLEH2AFKAqw7Mdqtsw/s400/marrow_cavatelli.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
I’m not sure I can describe how good this was. I’m out of practice with my wordsmithing. I’ll just say that it was so good, I told the couple sitting next to me to order it.<br />
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We also ordered: <b>The Pretzel Crusted Rock Shrimp Salad</b> <i>$14 (Mizuna, pickled mushrooms, and chili-lemon vinaigrette)</i><br />
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This wouldn’t have even been on my radar (not a big fan of shrimp), if Eileen didn’t push it. So glad she did. The salad was bright and refreshing and delicate; the shrimp meaty, crisp nuggets of flavor, which perfectly balanced with the peppery greens. Naturally, I told the couple next to me to order this, too.<br />
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Finally, given it was the restaurant’s namesake, we ordered <b>The Bone Marrow</b> <i>$17 (Sea urchin, fried potatoes, meyer lemon aioli and baby celery greens)</i>.<i> (Pictured above the rock shrimp salad.)</i><br />
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Beautiful to behold, “meh” to the taste, I’m sorry to say. However, if you look online, people lose their shit over this dish, so take my opinion with a grain of salt (Seriously, what do I know? I’ve only had bone marrow on one other occasion, and I was meh about it then, too.) Eileen and I just weren’t impressed. Not with the marrow, and not with the bread that accompanied it. Thick, dry, a little chewy, and not toasted enough. This is where our server shined once again. Upon noticing two completely clean plates that recently had cavatelli and salad on it, and then the barely-touched marrow, she asked if everything was ok. We were honest. We said it just wasn’t our thing. She thanked us for the feedback and made no further mention of it until the end of the meal, when she kindly and discreetly removed it from our bill. Totally unnecessary, but very thoughtful and classy. We were touched.<br />
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For dinner, it was <b>Pumpernickel crusted salmon</b> <i>$27 (schupfnudeln, baby beets, greens, and red wine sauce)</i>.<br />
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The crust took Sammy to another level. The sauce, the beets, and especially the rolled noodles, gave the dish a hearty, wintery feel. I loved it.<br />
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Eileen was similarly in love with her <b>White Balsamic-Glazed Black Cod </b><i>$36 (Roasted mushrooms, fennel and eggplant-basil sauce)</i> <br />
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This was great, too. I preferred the salmon, but Eileen was over the moon with this.<br />
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Karla also brought out a plate of <b>Roasted Delicata Squash</b> ($12), compliments of the chef (<i>pictured above my salmon</i>). Eileen and I were so full at this point, we were going to take a few bites to placate our server and the chef, but after one bite, I pronounced it the best thing I had ever eaten, and decided I had to make room for it. I declared this to the table next to us, and even began fixing them a plate (you never know where you’re going to make foodie friends).<br />
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For dessert, we went with a special: a plate of donuts served with marscarpone cheese and some sort of syrupy dipping sauce I can’t remember.<br />
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Again, this is where The Marrow showed its class. I made the reservation online about a month prior. Karla brought the donuts out with a candle on it (<i>note: not the candle pictured; that was us trying to recreate some of the magic</i>), and warmly wished Eileen a happy birthday.<br />
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I’m not sure it comes through in this entry, (Remember: I’m a <i>photographer </i>now), but I REALLY REALLY REALLY loved The Marrow. To the point I’m telling Eileen to take me there for my birthday. Get there, my friends!<br />
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<b><a href="http://www.themarrownyc.com/index.php" target="_blank">The Marrow</a></b><br />
99 Bank Street<br />
(212) 428-6000Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-84577669997487836442012-06-08T12:12:00.000-04:002012-06-08T15:01:51.183-04:002012: Oh, the Places I've Been<div id="yui_3_2_0_15_133917157054340">
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Well hello! I needed to take some time off of the blog.
Number 1: I kind of burnt myself out (there’s only so many ways you can call
lettuce, ‘crisp,’ you know? Number 2: I’ve been busy with work, kickboxing, and
moving all my shit into a new apartment in the heart of White Plains. Number 3: I suppose I may be
afraid of success, lol. At least that’s what I’ve been told. You see, my blog
was starting to get really popular! I felt I was writing reports for all the
wrong reasons (obligation), as opposed to why I originally started the blog (merely
to keep track of all the meals I had in the city). </div>
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So anyhoo, today, I really found myself missing my own
write-ups. I was perusing the <a href="http://newyork.grubstreet.com/2011/12/new-york-city-101-best-restaurants.html#photo=1x00006" target="_blank">Platt 101: New York City’s Best Restaurants</a>,
and realized I had been to a lot of the places on the list. Not only had I
forgotten what I ordered, I had plum forgotten I went!</div>
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So, in an effort to catch up, here’s a list of places I’ve eaten
the past year, with what little detail I remember. In no particular order.
Actually, I lie, I’ll put them in alphabetical order for ya:</div>
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<b><a href="http://www.9restaurantnyc.com/" target="_blank">9 Restaurant</a>:</b>
Oh wow, this really is a testament to how out of the loop I’ve become. Don’t
bother looking it up. Apparently, this place closed last month. I was totally
going to tell you to order the buffalo chicken dumplings. They were off the
hook!</div>
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<b><a href="http://www.abckitchennyc.com/" target="_blank">ABC Kitchen</a></b>:
Everything you could possibly want in a dining experience. Ingredients were
amazingly fresh and masterfully combined. After sampling a bunch of vegetables
and salads to start, I surprised myself by ordering something pretty
ordinary-sounding: the akaushi cheeseburger with herbed mayo and pickled
jalapenos. But I did not regret this decision. It was a great cheeseburger.
There was a homemade ginger ale there that also stood out. This now rates as one
of my all-time favorite restaurants.</div>
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<b><a href="http://www.aifiorinyc.com/" target="_blank">Ai Fiori</a>:</b>
Did Eileen and I like our food? Oh yes. Crispy sweetbreads stood out as an
appetizer, as did the rack of lamb entrée. I think Eileen said the lobster was
the best lobster she ever had. I had a panna cotta for dessert that made me
want to cry it was so good. But would we go back? Doubtful. The place just
seemed kind of stuffy. Service and décor alike.</div>
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<a href="http://ammosnewyork.com/" target="_blank"><b>Ammos Estiatorio</b></a>:
So, my girlfriends and I had a $100 gift card to this joint, receiving it for
participating in a 24-hour run benefiting Muscular Dystrophy research. We were
just going to capitalize on free stuff, but we ended up staying for lots of
free drinks from the friendly bartenders (I guess that still qualifies as “free
stuff”), as well as one of the best, simplest, grilled lamb chops I’ve ever
had. Check it out; commuters: it’s right next to Grand Central Station.</div>
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<a href="http://www.danielnyc.com/barboulud.html" target="_blank"><b>Bar Boulud</b></a>:
Probably my new favorite place to dine in Manhattan.
I love the service, the décor, the ambiance… take away all that and you still
have food that is second to none, especially the brunch! Do yourself a favor
and take someone you love: get the 4-course prix fixe brunch: split the steel
cut oatmeal and the pate grand-mere, and then the brioche French toast with
roasted almond butter with the croque madame (Holy eff, that croque madame
sings to me while I sleep). Good luck trying to fit the other two courses in your belly. ...God,
I love Bar Boulud; did I mention that?</div>
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<a href="http://moolifegroup.com/" target="_blank"><b>Bondi Road</b></a>: I went on a
fun date here a few months back. We did lots of oyster shots, fruity
drink shots, along with mussels, shrimp, salt and pepper calamari. I just liked
the chill, laid back vibe and the surfer motif. </div>
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<a href="http://www.ililinyc.com/" target="_blank"><b>Ilili</b></a>:
Speaking of cool places to take a date, Ilili is a decidedly more trendy scene….
My friend knows one of the managers here, and when a big group of us visited,
he really took care of the table: steak tartare, warm eggplant, brussel
sprouts, batata harra (cute little cubed fries), veal sweetbreads in
lettuce cups, duck shawarma, citrus trout, and all these amazing meats. I
couldn’t imagine <i>not </i>ordering the same stuff next time I visit. …but I suppose
I would also like to keep my tab under one million dollars. This place is a
must visit.</div>
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<a href="http://thejohndory.com/" target="_blank"><b>The John Dory Oyster Bar</b></a>:
Loved everything about this place. Oysters were off the hizzle, excellently
paired with a refreshing cucumber rickey. Also worth trying was the grilled
octopus salad and the chorizo stuffed squid. I could go just for the oysters
and rickeys, though.</div>
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<a href="http://kinshopnyc.com/" target="_blank"><b>Kin Shop</b></a>:
Our group had high hopes for this contemporary Thai restaurant, co-opened by
Top Chef Season One winner Harold Dieterle, who also owns the wonderful <a href="http://www.perillanyc.com/" target="_blank">Perilla</a> in the West Village.
The Fried Pork and Crispy Oyster Salad is reason enough for trying it; however,
the spicy duck laab salad was so spicy it killed our tastebuds for the rest of
the evening. The Steamed Sticky Rice was a wonderful side, especially when I
spooned it into the curry dish I ordered (don’t remember which one). When we
visited, the dessert menu looked sparse (only ice cream and sorbet), but it
looks like they’ve added some good stuff: a panna cotta and coconut cream cake.</div>
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<a href="http://www.scottconant.com/restaurants/scarpetta/new-york" target="_blank"><b>Scarpetta</b></a>:
You know, even though the food here was <i>way </i>better than decent (I had a bread
pudding for dessert I still remember), this place almost made me take to the
blog during my hiatus. I was pretty annoyed: I made dinner reservations as
soon as was allowed, and, because we were celebrating my friend’s birthday, I had
asked ahead of time that we not be rushed during dinner. Nevertheless, courses
were piled on top of each other, plates were cleared immediately, and the check
was literally dropped off along with our dessert. No coffee refills. Service was cold and frenetic. </div>Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-81425207688075604502010-11-28T23:07:00.012-05:002010-11-29T10:47:55.209-05:00Fatty Crab<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbU9LuJcpLxWEzQT-0NykslDPcSwl6WY0_-4i1C8ZgiSLtySmsvH7yEDHbSaKn6158LHYAjZLaaVe8Qjh4lhst-HquaLpyOQEmb2a9BjNURLrwW3m5OIpM7WzOKVxe_zYOkMxPf-LSBww/s1600/fattycrabsign.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544818770532476706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 378px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 246px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbU9LuJcpLxWEzQT-0NykslDPcSwl6WY0_-4i1C8ZgiSLtySmsvH7yEDHbSaKn6158LHYAjZLaaVe8Qjh4lhst-HquaLpyOQEmb2a9BjNURLrwW3m5OIpM7WzOKVxe_zYOkMxPf-LSBww/s400/fattycrabsign.jpg" border="0" /></a>My mom and I were in Manhattan last weekend. Originally, we had tickets to see that Spider-Man musical, but the opening was delayed because Spider-Man flew into a wall or something. So instead, we had a leisurely stroll around Manhattan. Stops for the day included: the New York Public Library, Bryant Park to see the ice skaters, and the highly anticipated high-end Italian market <a href="http://eatalyny.com/">Eataly</a> in the hopes of sampling something delicious (note to self: in the future visit Eataly on a weekday, say early a.m., if you don’t want to get trampled by others hoping to sample something delicious—we were in and out of there in less than a half hour due to the crowd).<br /><br />Around 3 p.m., after a brisk stroll along the High Line, stomachs growling due to the mob scene at Eataly, we walked the few short blocks east to Hudson Street, thinking it was finally an opportune time to visit the tiny, no reservations Malaysian hipster hotspot, Fatty Crab.<br /><br />We had a good feeling about this Fatty Crab almost immediately. Upon entering, we received a warm welcome from a smiling, unassuming waiter. The restaurant is tiny, the very definition of “hole in the wall.” A corner bar is manned by a hippy-version of Ryan Renolds, with a small kitchen window to his right. Bright red walls, exposed brick, a tin ceiling, and worn wooden floors give off an aura of “I’m-not-trying-too-hard-despite-my-reputation-of-Awesome.”<br /><br />Given the few patrons at 3 p.m., we were seated right by the front window, a Fatty Crab delivery bicycle parked outside.<br /><br />We started with <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Steamed Pork Buns</span> ($13):<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiid5-wbnMTwNV_3VwTreJTKcf3uHFBqu2qfsWVBWE7DY4YMu1HrkI42TZzvxuZHNiz9PhmuRgrXFNJMK1cL7UPydSvG3c1PKCx2nEoxejCfjNfaXcZ-J7R4YcPjOc72SNbjtXgB33ODYw/s1600/buns.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544818560867764290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 357px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 279px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiid5-wbnMTwNV_3VwTreJTKcf3uHFBqu2qfsWVBWE7DY4YMu1HrkI42TZzvxuZHNiz9PhmuRgrXFNJMK1cL7UPydSvG3c1PKCx2nEoxejCfjNfaXcZ-J7R4YcPjOc72SNbjtXgB33ODYw/s400/buns.jpg" border="0" /></a>I think the picture says it all.<br /><br />Well, NOW the picture says it all:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTxADnUGhqm0ee1JsDm6u15oQKCfvyWFnxfve43XPnzg3vsKMsHQHk2jR2YfIayyodm6yWl_J0xlM60yim28LANXfa77bxQqOZXtE96F2Rb1dau4SmPZ-qJS8w18AGQm1zBl3Tc5Hn3NQ/s1600/Bunscartoon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544818620343967570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 291px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTxADnUGhqm0ee1JsDm6u15oQKCfvyWFnxfve43XPnzg3vsKMsHQHk2jR2YfIayyodm6yWl_J0xlM60yim28LANXfa77bxQqOZXtE96F2Rb1dau4SmPZ-qJS8w18AGQm1zBl3Tc5Hn3NQ/s400/Bunscartoon.jpg" border="0" /></a>I am a SUCKER for a soft, squishy steamed bun, and these buns delivered. Piping hot, soft as clouds, the perfect conduit for succulent pork belly. It’s served with a hard-boiled egg, pickled radish, and a tangy-yet-somewhat spicy dipping sauce.<br /><br />Here is the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Watermelon and Crispy Pork</span> ($16):<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSvW8l_nI41_ZjiZh_-YwRCDkNtelnJ-G6EzDKU12xlzfIVRqFT-nTrd0nxUjtLGfqok-rfIKEC5Ml16RlerYCnRqBf7EEPbKxrt6rVWD81COxGSyctwYVZJ8RP-7WciQ73SV-r9vx280/s1600/pork-and-watermelon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544818708094835602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 392px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 263px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSvW8l_nI41_ZjiZh_-YwRCDkNtelnJ-G6EzDKU12xlzfIVRqFT-nTrd0nxUjtLGfqok-rfIKEC5Ml16RlerYCnRqBf7EEPbKxrt6rVWD81COxGSyctwYVZJ8RP-7WciQ73SV-r9vx280/s400/pork-and-watermelon.jpg" border="0" /></a>At the time, I think my mom and I were under the impression we were ordering an entrée, but now I think this dish fell under Appetizers with our pork buns. Which makes sense, given our waiter brought this out after the buns, but before our entrée. A small matter. The lesson learned was simple: Crispy pork belly and watermelon is <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">the Future</span>. Who knew these two could be such a duo? The pork crunches satisfyingly before melting on the tongue, the watermelon gives a burst of refreshing sweetness. A glorious dish, albeit a small one.<br /><br />Sadly, this is when we should’ve left Fatty Crab (ie: on top).<br /><br />Take a good, hard look at the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Nasi Lemak</span> ($21), aka, the worst dish I’ve had in years.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpTCreIL6ySEstvwvSHzH-Y0KBedQdRWJ7Pjss35HnF2a0hFvOLRdzfe6aSm-S3RENtqxt_3ANmg-Rz3VX8gWYxk8ErVbHXWgeNYraSK83URwGPFJjBGNU52uAuvU31MJY3Xzvfg5ftTc/s1600/nasilemak.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544818838711680498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 235px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpTCreIL6ySEstvwvSHzH-Y0KBedQdRWJ7Pjss35HnF2a0hFvOLRdzfe6aSm-S3RENtqxt_3ANmg-Rz3VX8gWYxk8ErVbHXWgeNYraSK83URwGPFJjBGNU52uAuvU31MJY3Xzvfg5ftTc/s400/nasilemak.jpg" border="0" /></a>Nasi Lemak is described on the menu as “coconut rice, chicken curry, slow poached egg.” On the left are two pieces of fried chicken, a wing and a leg. It was not remarkable fried chicken, but it did <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">taste </span>like fried chicken in its defense (wasn’t it supposed to be curry, though?). There were also some spiced peanuts buried underneath the chicken that were tasty. The shimmering poached egg on the coconut rice wasn’t terrible; the egg, coupled with the creaminess of coconut, just ended up being <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">too </span>creamy and rich. Not a pleasant combination, especially paired with the stuff in the middle, which is what we really took issue with: a fish cake in banana leaves that was extremely fishy-smelling and off-putting. What type of fish was it? I think the waiter said it was a “combination of leftovers” which should’ve been our first clue something was up, but he also went on to say it was made “fresh” daily. There was a little pile of dried anchovies that were fun, but next to it, a dark pile of sambal belacan—chilies, shrimp paste, sugar and lime juice—that was <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">beyond </span>fishy. It smelled off; I tasted it anyway, but it tasted like it smelled. Nasi Lemak: FAIL. Keep in mind: this was my first Malaysian meal. I’m merely telling you my personal feelings on Nasi Lemak (in essence: I was horrified).<br /><br />The staff, initially on their best behavior, were now acting kind of erratic, as well. What started out as a warm, welcoming feel, was quickly dissolving into the weird and eccentric. Our waiter was conversing loudly with diners behind us, the word “porn” coming up over and over.<br /><br />We were still somewhat scarred by the Nasi Lemak when our waiter arrived with our bill. There was no offering of a dessert menu (maybe he sensed the last dish didn’t go over well), but he did leave us with two slices of coconut-flavored mochi. They had an unexpected, slightly salty aftertaste, which was wonderful paired with the sweetness of the rice cakes. This lifted our spirits.<br /><br />I’m left slightly mystified by Fatty Crab. How could a restaurant that served two exceptional, knock-your-socks-off dishes, send out such a BOMB? And what of the vibe? Is it warm or wacky?<br /><br />Jury’s out.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.fattycrab.com/">Fatty Crab</a><br />643 Hudson St<br />New York, NY 10014<br />(212) 352-3590Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-64014105336532917332010-11-04T20:51:00.009-04:002010-11-05T07:39:48.929-04:00Silver Tips Tea Room<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-WkpZWHEEJ1tEU93wnhTy5q-y2dr6m2ycLLu1iuYgn9vErmL42gzLS9lUHzJzKiF4a_AgLL1BpFwkcoAD9h_eoUyBMYZqCEK1K6jZ00cFYdEc3vMuNHDyCgQCGnmznefBJFaFOI_9a-g/s1600/Awning.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-WkpZWHEEJ1tEU93wnhTy5q-y2dr6m2ycLLu1iuYgn9vErmL42gzLS9lUHzJzKiF4a_AgLL1BpFwkcoAD9h_eoUyBMYZqCEK1K6jZ00cFYdEc3vMuNHDyCgQCGnmznefBJFaFOI_9a-g/s400/Awning.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535861956585584146" border="0" /></a>Well hello! It’s been a long time. I completed the two 5ks mentioned below. I’m decidedly the world’s worst runner, but I did complete them, and in my book, that warrants giving myself a good old pat on the back for actually seeing something through. And the more I think about it, the more I wager I may stick with this running thing. I have my eye on the <a href="http://www.leathermansloop.org/">Leatherman’s Loop</a> this coming May. We’ll see how I fare with training this winter, before I make any type of commitment. But back to the food, which is what we really care about.<br /><br />A few Sundays ago, I had my first “High Tea” with some very lovely ladies. To quote Ferris Bueller, “It is so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend it.” Luckily, “the means” in this particular instance is quite reasonable. Silver Tips is a charming little establishment tucked in the heart of Tarrytown. Local artists’ work adorns the walls, knick-knacks and bric-a-brac align rustic shelves, and lively chatter resounds from the tables. It’s quaint without being overly frou-frou or feminine. Guys go there too (I’ll tell you why in a moment). The tea? Pages and pages worth, delivered hot to your table and kept warm via uniquely designed tea cozies:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1P_mJIOiTXZj9WTyS1-xHE7QblNgoNjdky7WWsTDSTngKK5Y9t0iWFkgj93ayY_Eor1RSL_iQC5caufCw9xWuGgp6d_kUPVcg64TpQrg9xdnxdoxhfBSIKPfE2OuwpuDBU25lD0Thyphenhyphen4/s1600/Setting.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1P_mJIOiTXZj9WTyS1-xHE7QblNgoNjdky7WWsTDSTngKK5Y9t0iWFkgj93ayY_Eor1RSL_iQC5caufCw9xWuGgp6d_kUPVcg64TpQrg9xdnxdoxhfBSIKPfE2OuwpuDBU25lD0Thyphenhyphen4/s400/Setting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535862122691263954" border="0" /></a>What do I know about tea? Not a whole lot. I suppose I like it. I steep my own Japanese Genmaicha tea at home and also enjoy Barley tea from time to time. I’m a sucker for English Breakfast with a little milk and sugar. That’s the extent of my knowledge on tea.<br /><br />The ladies I high tea’d with? They take their tea to another level, and had some great recommendations for the table. The Silver Tips ladies? Just visit their <a href="http://silvertipstea.com/">web site</a>: you can learn all you ever wanted to know about tea.<br /><br />Truth be told, I didn’t take to the blog to mention the tea. I’m here to clue you in to the other teahouse treasures, which is why guys find their way into this teahouse as well. Silver Tips has <span style="font-style: italic;">killer</span> sandwiches. They’re still somewhat small for a dude (but way bigger than those mini cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off) and I suppose the presentation of the toasted sandwiches could cause a guy to squirm, but they’re <span style="font-style: italic;">so. unbelievably. yummy</span>. [Note: Silver Tips also has larger, non-gussied-up sandwich wraps, served with nachos and salsa, as well as soups, salads and samosas that would make men a lot less uncomfortable than the route we went]. For $21, there is “<span style="font-weight: bold;">Tea Deluxe</span>”: two sandwiches of your choice, a scone with cream and preserves, one dessert (a variety of tarts and pastries), and two two-cup pots of tea, or one four-cup pot of tea. We ordered two “Tea Deluxes,<span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>” for our table of four. Ch-ch- check it out:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3IwfBWjHXO0lZW8mnhIbfrtblrkV_R3IrzCSKffFnZJ0Adeqx1kV9kFqoDv3zx67y1RN2F-ag4P_Vm1Ccz8iqUBc-GjyPUjzuAkTIN4j9aMgP4scPGCBri9hBECYilvUBnKDgeFTHT48/s1600/Towers.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3IwfBWjHXO0lZW8mnhIbfrtblrkV_R3IrzCSKffFnZJ0Adeqx1kV9kFqoDv3zx67y1RN2F-ag4P_Vm1Ccz8iqUBc-GjyPUjzuAkTIN4j9aMgP4scPGCBri9hBECYilvUBnKDgeFTHT48/s400/Towers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535862184343300802" border="0" /></a>The Egg Souchong sandwich? Marinated in smoked tea, then combined with seasoning and chives. Pshhhh, only the best egg sandwich ever. My buddy Danielle and I both really wanted the smoked salmon sandwich, which wasn’t one of the standard selections for “Tea Deluxe” so we asked our waitress to “upgrade” our second choice to the salmon for a dollar more. She thought that was funny, and even funnier when our friends “upgraded” as well.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeRRqIvtKoZPrnb5KPdrAmWJYppRe-tlZUeNq1CTRSuXB9O6-hiolb1eY0Ue9ITZvSAlNGuNlAeN6ody0luhpW6hXeYNbws-4JQRNQI5TEYKDPoFP_LFJ7OwCC2yim50-uEdfGR0MQjEc/s1600/Sandwiches.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 325px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeRRqIvtKoZPrnb5KPdrAmWJYppRe-tlZUeNq1CTRSuXB9O6-hiolb1eY0Ue9ITZvSAlNGuNlAeN6ody0luhpW6hXeYNbws-4JQRNQI5TEYKDPoFP_LFJ7OwCC2yim50-uEdfGR0MQjEc/s400/Sandwiches.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535862019793605234" border="0" /></a>The scone? Absolutely delightful. We went with the raisin, but it’s also available in cranberry and blueberry. Paired with the cream, it was heavenly.<br /><br />I’m a sucker for fruit tarts, so Danielle and I chose the peach tart. It was good, but a little heavy on the crust and not enough actual fruit. The mixed berry tart crust was a more condensed and the fruit extra flavorful.<br /><br />Oh, and the tea? ...It was yummy! But I don’t even remember what we ordered! Hey Lori, wanna leave a comment about the tea below? For the tea lovers?<br /><br />In closing, Silver Tips is serving up a lot more than just apparently awesome tea. They’ve got some real treasures on their menu, and a cozy, delightful setting to enjoy it. They’ve got a good sense of humor over there, too. Our server took a picture of the four of us at the end of our meal and said, “One, two… <span style="font-style: italic;">teabags</span>!”<br /><br />It’s good to be back!<br /><br /><a href="http://silvertipstea.com/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Silver Tips Tea Room</span></a><br />3 North Broadway<br />Tarrytown, NY 10591<br />(914) 332-8515Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-57415092210950889622010-08-19T19:39:00.005-04:002010-08-19T21:59:53.778-04:00Shifting PrioritiesYep, I’m still writing. When I go out to eat, I still blog about it. What’s changed? I haven’t really been going out to eat lately. When I began this blog early last year, it was a fun way to share and re-live some of my more memorable dining experiences. I was <span style="font-style: italic;">Top Chef</span>-crazed, waist-deep in Anthony Bourdain and Michael Ruhlman books, and I couldn’t get enough of the scene. Then shortly after New Year’s, I did something that was either really, really wise, or really, really stupid: I totaled up all I had spent in 2009 on dining.<br /><br />It was a lot.<br /><br />My brother lectured me on the importance of maximizing my Roth every year (“My what?” was my adept reply). A buddy pestered me to accompany her on a two-week adventure to Egypt; I told her she was nuts—that would cost, like, an eighth of what I spent on food the year before. My scale was either broken, or my detergent was shrinking my clothes. My apartment was… not a 32-year-old’s apartment. In short, I needed to re-focus my spending, and find a cheaper hobby.<br /><br />The past few months, I’ve been on lock-down with my funds. While being thrifty doesn’t necessarily mean food has to be boring, that’s exactly what it’s become to me. Not because I don’t still <span style="font-style: italic;">love </span>food, but mostly because of my new time sink: preparing for two 5ks. And while food and 5ks <span style="font-style: italic;">do </span>go together, they don’t in the way I was hoping they would. Minutes into Day One of training, the Mexican burrito that was so delicious for lunch was not nearly as delightful sloshing in my stomach at the track. Turkey, eggs, tuna, fruits, veggies, and whole grains (boiled, steamed, baked or raw) have become my friends simply because they seem to stay down well. And give me more energy for suicides, push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, throw-ups, running, sweating, stretching, icing, cursing, cheering, collapsing.<br /><br />In some ways, my food is not nearly as exciting now, and certainly doesn’t warrant a blog entry; in other ways, I’m so much hungrier lately, I don’t know if I’ve ever appreciated or looked forward to my meals more. It’s been an eye-opener in terms of how and why I eat.<br /><br />So where does that leave this blog?<br /><br />I promise I won’t go all Running Blog on you (I would never forgive me either, but I will take this moment to thank <a href="http://www.westchesterroadrunner.com/">Westchester Road Runner</a> for finding me a sneaker that doesn’t make my shins scream). Instead, expect more infrequent entries. When I’ve got noteworthy, exciting food to write about, I’ll post. Two in the pipeline: Zarela and Indochine.<br /><br />In the meantime, wish me luck with my races! I’ll need it and appreciate the support.Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-43740902997208589612010-07-11T01:19:00.023-04:002010-07-11T02:15:03.321-04:00Colicchio & SonsSpoiler alert [except not really at all]: I’m a <span style="font-style: italic;">wee </span>bit of a fan of James Beard Outstanding Chef winner/<span style="font-style: italic;">Top Chef</span> host/restauranteur extraordinaire/<a href="http://internetfoodassociation.com/2009/01/19/tom-colicchio-hero/">hero</a>/humanitarian/guitarist/<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TK1zEABtrM&NR=1">fly fisher</a>/one of <span style="font-style: italic;">People</span>’s sexiest men alive in 2008/etc./etc. Tom Colicchio. That’s right: no matter what hat you throw on top of this man, you’ll still find Chef Tommy keeping it real under there. Whether he’s banging out world-class dishes in his deceptively straightforward style, or shooting the breeze with none other than yours truly—there is an aura of real-ness to Colicchio, peppered with drive and integrity, that makes it next to impossible to remain uninspired in his presence. Would-be “Top Chefs” strive for greatness on his show; readers of his cookbook learn the principles behind great cooking so as not to be chained to recipes—to instead <span style="font-style: italic;">Think Like a Chef</span>; and people who learn his life story realize that sometimes, when you work crazy hard, doing what you love actually pays off.<br /><br />So there was a dance, some hugs, and multiple wardrobe changes when I learned good pal Eileen was taking me to the Meatpacking District for a birthday dinner at Colicchio’s newest digs Colicchio & Sons (taking the place of closed Craftsteak).<br /><br />I’ve said this about <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/craft-oh-yeah_02.html">Craft</a>; I’ve <span style="font-style: italic;">certainly </span>said it about <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tom-tuesday-dinner-what-about-tom.html">Tom: Tuesday Dinner</a> (still the most memorable dining experience of my life); and now, I can say the same for Colicchio & Sons: these restaurants are so. effing. magnificent. And comfortable. And <span style="font-style: italic;">made </span>for dudes. (Sure, they appeal to women—but Colicchio’s already got that demographic covered.) Inside, the music is bluesy, soulful; the décor exudes strength and warmth; the staff is approachable and on-point with absolutely zero airs; and the food: oh lawdy, the food. In the age of foams, deconstructions, and molecular gastronomy, this food <span style="font-style: italic;">resembles </span>food, yet still shines for its flair, boldness and ingenuity. And it <span style="font-style: italic;">tastes </span>like food (albeit the best food you’ve ever eaten). Men needn’t worry about leaving hungry. Or getting busted by the fork police for using the wrong fork. There are no fork police.<br /><br />When Eileen and I arrived on a Thursday evening, taking in scenic views from <a href="http://www.thehighline.org/">the High Line</a> beforehand (Colicchio & Sons is mere steps away), we were among the first in the dining room (there is a more casual “tap room” in front; the two rooms are divided by a floor-to-ceiling wine vault). When we left, <span style="font-style: italic;">many </span>hours later, the restaurant was in full swing with not a seat to spare, yet in no way did we feel rushed during our meal. The dinner was thoughtfully timed; our servers were friendly and attentive without being bothersome. In short: perfect atmostphere/setting.<br /><br />Take a look at our rolls:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1D6qniqvXxjWWOdHPqzme11UVYXn5H4xD_rUn1CDMrY-YoKEfXSZXBCWxY-yQvvmp3NcS2QUWzVdt8b21LMVPh9mLmTpPUgAFiLlJkCMvBr-tjDTIZcH3et-BGXVUnrJwd1VYJdff6cI/s1600/001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 244px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1D6qniqvXxjWWOdHPqzme11UVYXn5H4xD_rUn1CDMrY-YoKEfXSZXBCWxY-yQvvmp3NcS2QUWzVdt8b21LMVPh9mLmTpPUgAFiLlJkCMvBr-tjDTIZcH3et-BGXVUnrJwd1VYJdff6cI/s400/001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492514131352945458" border="0" /></a>This is the kind of bread you just want to take in your fist and squeeze because it looks so soft and pleasant. The only thing that outweighed the urge to squeeze it was to eat it... which Eileen and I did immediately. Another black skillet thoughtfully appeared moments later containing six more shimmering rolls, coarse salt sprinkled on top. We purposefully held back, knowing what was to come. Wonderful, wonderful bread, though.<br /><br />Here’s our amuse-bouche:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSQ4CF38Bf4xZzYUuwJ1SYKTCXPV6nFrcTCKEpxDpPHiFYbo-KTRkKxuw3coMKk9V4e-LLKXHeQ76WpRHQKhKVpMQnu-H0NnmQSpiOpMLfm6yIllc39QPf4DuvTCXiyoaJ1SkWkGJVlUE/s1600/003.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSQ4CF38Bf4xZzYUuwJ1SYKTCXPV6nFrcTCKEpxDpPHiFYbo-KTRkKxuw3coMKk9V4e-LLKXHeQ76WpRHQKhKVpMQnu-H0NnmQSpiOpMLfm6yIllc39QPf4DuvTCXiyoaJ1SkWkGJVlUE/s400/003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492514197694781682" border="0" /></a>God knows what this was. My bad. I waited three months to write this entry up. Lobster on a spicy cracker with …apples(?) that went with it perfectly. And tasted very fresh.<br /><br />For appetizers, the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Carolina Soft Shell Crab</span> with ramps and pancetta ($22) was a no-brainer:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRGl4v-2TCi-yljpd3sH4k2-DXJ67FovhEdt3fCvOtsETx99PzaflyJ8eIH8jLxlb1G7vZTFMcljhX_295TQ9BYu8aWs4-NJHYlYZpHYGMK4_xDAhIMyQeNzetme_Era6lV0X0cYvkiqo/s1600/004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 244px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRGl4v-2TCi-yljpd3sH4k2-DXJ67FovhEdt3fCvOtsETx99PzaflyJ8eIH8jLxlb1G7vZTFMcljhX_295TQ9BYu8aWs4-NJHYlYZpHYGMK4_xDAhIMyQeNzetme_Era6lV0X0cYvkiqo/s400/004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492514239067850050" border="0" /></a>This was the first time I’ve had soft shell crab that wasn’t deep-fried. It was bloody sensational. The outer shell had just a bit of firmness to it, the nuggets inside contained fresh, juicy, tender explosions of the sea, tempered nicely by the pungent flavor of the ramps.<br /><br />Over on Eileen’s plate, was <span style="font-weight: bold;">Ricotta Ravioli</span> with morels, fava beans, and ramps (ramps, ramps, ramps! Chefs can’t get enough of ’em when they’re in season.) ($19)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxOuWg-nq0RTxGoS6rKbB1L6xhtNA04-ZKvALgNlOP9gt4XHU6_BdHjBxhq5bkWgg9oxtSmOPs1enOU-sFqxE8N0MuxgA_q-Uha8xVh7637DK0xxa4kCC4e8VjCqIL8XpA0PYrZ0KWAFM/s1600/006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 255px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxOuWg-nq0RTxGoS6rKbB1L6xhtNA04-ZKvALgNlOP9gt4XHU6_BdHjBxhq5bkWgg9oxtSmOPs1enOU-sFqxE8N0MuxgA_q-Uha8xVh7637DK0xxa4kCC4e8VjCqIL8XpA0PYrZ0KWAFM/s400/006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492514281545260018" border="0" /></a>Eileen quite enjoyed this. Even though the ravioli were cooked al dente, the ricotta filling made the ravioli as a whole taste light and pillowy. Another winner.<br /><br />For dinner, I was talked into the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Farm Chicken “Pot Au Feu”</span> with Crispy Skin, Spring Vegetables and …Ramp Broth ($34)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4eKMX-2N4BD29hJ1_nP3-e__xErbbryFbtBulQcZNyrp3Nu6ZzLLJOu1bWgI1EZlyw0u_mjHyk9RnenplB5r1v3yjexqNb2DCFeoGgdTwf7VbG5d3h1t7xgdSsjDQzsRji7edJHjRXyI/s1600/013.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4eKMX-2N4BD29hJ1_nP3-e__xErbbryFbtBulQcZNyrp3Nu6ZzLLJOu1bWgI1EZlyw0u_mjHyk9RnenplB5r1v3yjexqNb2DCFeoGgdTwf7VbG5d3h1t7xgdSsjDQzsRji7edJHjRXyI/s400/013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492514375440198050" border="0" /></a>I had reservations about coming all the way to Colicchio & Sons and ordering something as ordinary as chicken, but the server assured me the dish was actually quite “exciting.” It was prepared sous-vide (a technique where food is placed in airtight plastic bags and submerged underwater, then cooked at an exact temperature to ensure the end result is exactly what is intended); and the skin was fashioned into a crispy chip. “What about the ramps?” I asked. “Is this turning into ramp overload?” No, the ramp broth merely accentuated the vegetables, giving everything a slight kick. The broth was light, the chicken was impossibly tender and juicy. It was like springtime stew; the ultimate in comfort food. The dish wasn’t in-your-face bold, instead, the flavors had been gently coaxed out, so that they crept up on you, and remained clear in your mind many days/weeks/months later. Best dish of the night.<br /><br />Eileen ordered the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Roasted Sirloin with Piperade and Roasted Ramps</span> ($42):<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjMr19By7m-XyLt-kZlbLMtw_9ccv6dSs_r-Tbl-xlKBbEqX_40cdOG6IGZsMuc430G82DGEweJ43EkHlftQrBZyD12MUNHrNUZ0TyMQqETlxRsx3M9sTSUS5kC9Mb_NYRjmF-svzSZmc/s1600/009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 251px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjMr19By7m-XyLt-kZlbLMtw_9ccv6dSs_r-Tbl-xlKBbEqX_40cdOG6IGZsMuc430G82DGEweJ43EkHlftQrBZyD12MUNHrNUZ0TyMQqETlxRsx3M9sTSUS5kC9Mb_NYRjmF-svzSZmc/s400/009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492514331037028050" border="0" /></a>This is the closest we came to any sort of misstep. While tasty, this dish could’ve used some sort of carb. There was a lot of meat, and a lot of peppers (and ramps!). Eileen was really craving something else to balance it out. Something crunchy, something potato-y perhaps. She was a little disappointed.<br /><br />Both of our desserts were excellent. I’d order either of them again.<br /><br />Here’s mine, the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Banana Pecan Upside-Down,</span> with rum caramel, banana sorbet, and malted milk ice cream ($12)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiFrDpI06Q0bQfrSIZvB8RjG-HjL2N14O4ey4U3lw9R28zMNnH2EwTN2GmMJwWyqF6KI-3fOjaKakLBMfQ3fb36j3kM1uE9wZndQZVBLkfPj_hWOK7mbXlsXcCiWsWKUlsarJGCgAubew/s1600/019.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiFrDpI06Q0bQfrSIZvB8RjG-HjL2N14O4ey4U3lw9R28zMNnH2EwTN2GmMJwWyqF6KI-3fOjaKakLBMfQ3fb36j3kM1uE9wZndQZVBLkfPj_hWOK7mbXlsXcCiWsWKUlsarJGCgAubew/s400/019.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492514465401520978" border="0" /></a><br />And Eileen’s: the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Warm Chocolate Tart with Hazelnut Semifreddo</span> and Espresso ice cream ($12):<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIrs-ogCVpfRwBS4uYhIbeuv6uvZXiel4rQTw1B9liCG4342F9YrUiMEZjyp5syj4nKc_TLjtDnadHzQvMgCEquIW9s57GCEtVfUwXKBTaUwj3Vh6H2MWnwgSib-YsGvX3i2FRfVwTKXA/s1600/017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIrs-ogCVpfRwBS4uYhIbeuv6uvZXiel4rQTw1B9liCG4342F9YrUiMEZjyp5syj4nKc_TLjtDnadHzQvMgCEquIW9s57GCEtVfUwXKBTaUwj3Vh6H2MWnwgSib-YsGvX3i2FRfVwTKXA/s400/017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492514423975365522" border="0" /></a>Some really hot-looking mignardises followed. I think it was a wine gelee, but again, I don’t remember.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimtrjemz5fzMiZN4iBvVzsNzOBoPMRkew0KCrZ1W6jwRTpXguchIrdAf2G0DoDWRjc3_UfJJmtknL3L5P3NSX5zWcPv3HlEg76TjdOX521Alj91fBYgd2cT3mi1-Rpwgz7AAabiItgJa8/s1600/022.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 248px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimtrjemz5fzMiZN4iBvVzsNzOBoPMRkew0KCrZ1W6jwRTpXguchIrdAf2G0DoDWRjc3_UfJJmtknL3L5P3NSX5zWcPv3HlEg76TjdOX521Alj91fBYgd2cT3mi1-Rpwgz7AAabiItgJa8/s400/022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492514517084829954" border="0" /></a> A pleasant <span style="font-style: italic;">ping!</span> to the end of the evening.<br /><br />On our way out, the hostess gave us complimentary corn muffins for breakfast the next morning, a nice touch, which immediately called to mind the thoughtfulness I experienced at Craft.<br /><br />All in all, a great experience. Thank you, Tom Colicchio, for making dining at your restaurants such memorable, fabulous occasions.<br /><br />(And thank you, Eileen, for such a generous birthday present. Dinner is always a blast when you have such great company.)<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://www.colicchioandsons.com/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Colicchio & Sons</span></a><br />85 10th Avenue<br />New York, NY 10011<br />(212) 400-6699Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-71311432276766058312010-05-04T20:57:00.001-04:002010-05-04T20:57:44.081-04:00Taking a Short BreakWell duh. I suppose you figured that out already.<br /><br />No biggee, just a little overwhelmed at work, and not a whole lot of time for dining out.<br /><br />Looking forward to posting in the very near future.<br /><br />In the meantime, might I recommend a <a href="http://nextstophappiness.wordpress.com/">fabulous, insightful new blog</a> by an old high school friend of mine.<br /><br />And congratulations Tom Colicchio, James Beard Winner for Most Outstanding Chef in America.Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-63460964649614323832010-04-11T20:03:00.015-04:002010-04-11T20:30:23.037-04:00Dinner Tonight: Flank Steak Pinwheels<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4uPPBCRqNf3sBhWPgMPzo3jnOcestma7UpccFc86pEGhRuYKtRGjwPr1WuWAS70Ug4xL470EuKngIzQOUUgVTfA7GedpckCrWBU6MeNU7q8nO1ILMdzQDmPikBJSQKZbxK3v1wRtrabs/s1600/104.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4uPPBCRqNf3sBhWPgMPzo3jnOcestma7UpccFc86pEGhRuYKtRGjwPr1WuWAS70Ug4xL470EuKngIzQOUUgVTfA7GedpckCrWBU6MeNU7q8nO1ILMdzQDmPikBJSQKZbxK3v1wRtrabs/s400/104.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459035449716498194" border="0" /></a>Normally, you stuff anything and people assume you were in the kitchen for at least two hours. That’s just not the case with the above picture (a little Flank Steak Pinwheel action), which makes said picture the perfect fancy-pants dish to serve at your next shindig. People see the circular pattern and automatically assume you spent the whole day calculating recipes in the halls of MIT, simultaneously demonstrating that the Belousov-Zhabotinsky reaction does not just take place in a solution, but also in multi-phase systems (… and in nanoparticle self-organization of course).<br /><br />Bottom line: this dish is oh-so-easy, and very, very tasty.<br /><br />Here is the flank steak:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzdTrPjoa_7g1VLIIweLOn9R3kAH7QTUUVVfrHhRvMaXJxhJmvhbO6Jjg5C6WsF3bYbmRinhaqS3o01XY1ZH2Ct6KQhHvJ1vlk0eKaZnFSaUcxfz86n_DmhLmXxmZjdDbyjTX7N64bO34/s1600/045.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzdTrPjoa_7g1VLIIweLOn9R3kAH7QTUUVVfrHhRvMaXJxhJmvhbO6Jjg5C6WsF3bYbmRinhaqS3o01XY1ZH2Ct6KQhHvJ1vlk0eKaZnFSaUcxfz86n_DmhLmXxmZjdDbyjTX7N64bO34/s400/045.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459035074942590450" border="0" /></a>Butterfly the steak along the grain (to essentially get a thinner, larger flank steak), and then pound it to tenderize. Brush flattened steak with a mixture of minced garlic, parsley, sage, rosemary, and olive oil.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLx7edCvFTNaSu6D4ZrjmU1vOx6fGOxu6TsmEtxRjFgXwmJumWZfcPfkanpHuDdkWb_XiIvSQ4-AllHDp9gp7DT3vElaN84mGcLrhQiLjzamRgRXetfFNYYQED6axXHaUZ0KpVP2WNAcY/s1600/050.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLx7edCvFTNaSu6D4ZrjmU1vOx6fGOxu6TsmEtxRjFgXwmJumWZfcPfkanpHuDdkWb_XiIvSQ4-AllHDp9gp7DT3vElaN84mGcLrhQiLjzamRgRXetfFNYYQED6axXHaUZ0KpVP2WNAcY/s400/050.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459035127736940898" border="0" /></a>Lay slices of prosciutto on top.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAIWhOQ6YHfunF1TyaHYqYYyJkOse9yasaypbot4CKVh9CLnDG1syX0wUtOKtE5L8ZRBRMAFIDIzqZWRLkRsh0CRAGx3wvoptivmU0LLq08rup2BXZrpz-P7LPOW1txKeNdf1r4vSu3c/s1600/052.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 290px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLAIWhOQ6YHfunF1TyaHYqYYyJkOse9yasaypbot4CKVh9CLnDG1syX0wUtOKtE5L8ZRBRMAFIDIzqZWRLkRsh0CRAGx3wvoptivmU0LLq08rup2BXZrpz-P7LPOW1txKeNdf1r4vSu3c/s400/052.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459035172201226082" border="0" /></a> Lay slices of provolone on top, then wrap.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPU3KXjSxdtoLPAK4PsbBQz-aZ0JuMiVBcG357tAxy3Gddam2c65i0eba7jKvYMJfyiH8CzBgmC5grYhE5C32zig_XmtsN9SIfjFMs0t16jtT9nX7exyCUoJ4QYfPy5SENFkVBSDmiDc/s1600/058.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPU3KXjSxdtoLPAK4PsbBQz-aZ0JuMiVBcG357tAxy3Gddam2c65i0eba7jKvYMJfyiH8CzBgmC5grYhE5C32zig_XmtsN9SIfjFMs0t16jtT9nX7exyCUoJ4QYfPy5SENFkVBSDmiDc/s400/058.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459035207495166450" border="0" /></a>Secure it with twine...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj42lCeHsr2WKLNqSwV2Eu5GcZbGiQfKCljSmDL4j9pikP8ckrNZRjfXthnPSN-zHITkesv-TPPBZR256p-UyO2vzEI0PMun8iXwhyphenhyphenEw2wcKfzAw_WNVqVv69iwEGMIIP0hpQ0JAY8W6d8/s1600/063.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj42lCeHsr2WKLNqSwV2Eu5GcZbGiQfKCljSmDL4j9pikP8ckrNZRjfXthnPSN-zHITkesv-TPPBZR256p-UyO2vzEI0PMun8iXwhyphenhyphenEw2wcKfzAw_WNVqVv69iwEGMIIP0hpQ0JAY8W6d8/s400/063.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459035250329290594" border="0" /></a>... and then skewers.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3DOE_xjcodQo-y0k1ni2S19lGedBg_aSTEkJ0-m_W6ytmmE_On4WaQ4k4TeFhuaOitu7zW3S44KcrqMO60UP1Uz6Al0gHLD8-TtT-dZRjnjGsbMa4mNwe9dCiw5maR0tnPkN33gjNGhE/s1600/073.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 263px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3DOE_xjcodQo-y0k1ni2S19lGedBg_aSTEkJ0-m_W6ytmmE_On4WaQ4k4TeFhuaOitu7zW3S44KcrqMO60UP1Uz6Al0gHLD8-TtT-dZRjnjGsbMa4mNwe9dCiw5maR0tnPkN33gjNGhE/s400/073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459035303920403762" border="0" /></a> Slice, then season with salt and pepper.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDs6cUgwZ9TNmYKdHkAoYvrSMY8iO8Bf5JM03Uzb2Iiau-HWJXeXo9DHtTMg8urI780FMLZQkLPmkl1Q8GUo6dZLTs5yhJv7qSsSD2Zi1fDVdFTNbUqVXVN2ANSa1VPmlFGxrXVnJDgI/s1600/078.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 248px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYDs6cUgwZ9TNmYKdHkAoYvrSMY8iO8Bf5JM03Uzb2Iiau-HWJXeXo9DHtTMg8urI780FMLZQkLPmkl1Q8GUo6dZLTs5yhJv7qSsSD2Zi1fDVdFTNbUqVXVN2ANSa1VPmlFGxrXVnJDgI/s400/078.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459035352214627698" border="0" /></a>GRILL!!!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji5IGxHSGIRWuGqNVY1rjEI9kqW8vygt-Kd2_GpqGL2POoCkD_Ze0eJhQUos0gNylZSyurkjqBpLz7waubsDkSBlwIfwHAtiRPtYz_Eo20LOdx9yvHmqxfBLb6PhoXFUuHLDrB34SFOUE/s1600/094.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji5IGxHSGIRWuGqNVY1rjEI9kqW8vygt-Kd2_GpqGL2POoCkD_Ze0eJhQUos0gNylZSyurkjqBpLz7waubsDkSBlwIfwHAtiRPtYz_Eo20LOdx9yvHmqxfBLb6PhoXFUuHLDrB34SFOUE/s400/094.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459035408301080418" border="0" /></a>Enjoy with some grilled veggies:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivawZewpGdIA4I-fcZ7rOvuhTWMpaCp2sJXogu3SEKXr43TW2rJoKzwPwX_L3iu3PfCu_GKnDN4C4i-rugRbHHD8nuYdmJ82da0B0c9bm9k_n_fw5nl39JBq0H9PdH1SfbTX2rYMfTqjA/s1600/100.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 243px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivawZewpGdIA4I-fcZ7rOvuhTWMpaCp2sJXogu3SEKXr43TW2rJoKzwPwX_L3iu3PfCu_GKnDN4C4i-rugRbHHD8nuYdmJ82da0B0c9bm9k_n_fw5nl39JBq0H9PdH1SfbTX2rYMfTqjA/s400/100.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459037210405152482" border="0" /></a>Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-29620705950527167482010-03-29T21:45:00.015-04:002010-03-30T10:24:06.638-04:00Iron Horse Grill: HV Restaurant Week 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9lsETPCPwN34ARBI6fw-K9pGjj5vAmZuwwonRenwaYtN1ih1NgkMMwgZ2oFsvmenkl5ypU99hAE03Vh8jsZrzHKYuBGaCrT0Xk4MOJIZgx4hBb4277H_gBNzrsWzjoy3naNRr0LxI_pk/s1600/035.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454237307471296082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9lsETPCPwN34ARBI6fw-K9pGjj5vAmZuwwonRenwaYtN1ih1NgkMMwgZ2oFsvmenkl5ypU99hAE03Vh8jsZrzHKYuBGaCrT0Xk4MOJIZgx4hBb4277H_gBNzrsWzjoy3naNRr0LxI_pk/s400/035.jpg" border="0" /></a>A man walks into a restaurant and orders Arctic Char (stop me if you’ve heard this one).<br /><br />Arctic Char arrives.<br /><span style="TEXT-DECORATION: underline"><br /></span>Man looks at it, a confused expression on his face. Then..<br /><br />“What part of this is ‘char’?”<br /><br />“You didn’t know you were ordering fish?” Dining Companion #1 asks, surprised.<br /><br />Man looks slightly embarrassed. “I dunno; the ‘char’ threw me off. I thought it would be meat.” Then, more under his breath: “[Bleeping] fish.”<br /><br />“Fair enough,” says Dining Companion #1. “But what part of ‘Artic’ made you think you were going to get a steak? What were you hoping for? Polar Bear?”<br /><br />“Polar bear is endangered,” says Dining Companion #2.<br /><br />Meal commences.<br /><br />That’s pretty much how our dinner went down at Iron Horse Grill in Pleasantville on Friday evening. My feisty dinner companions for the evening were: Todd (aka “Man”), Bill (aka “Dining Companion #1), Lori (aka Dining Companion #2), and Dad and myself (the laugh track).<br /><br />It was our first visit to Iron Horse, and a last-minute Restaurant Week addition. The restaurant has an intimate vibe and a turn of the century feel, a place where you’d expect to see a man holding his monocle saying, “Quite right, quite right” to no one in particular. Making the rounds that evening was head chef and owner Philip McGrath, seating guests, jotting down orders, and even hanging coats. He exuded confidence, ease and friendliness, and made our party feel comfortable and special simultaneously.<br /><br />Our meal, while perfectly decent, didn’t do justice to the restaurant’s reputation, which is extremely well-regarded. We chalked it up to <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2010/03/harvest-on-hudson-hvrwfail.html">Hudson Valley Restaurant Week syndrome</a>, a disorder I experienced in abundance <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/hudson-valley-restaurant-week-2009.html">last year</a>, but which I was hoping to cheat this time around after a solid, near perfect, <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2010/03/x20-xaviars-on-hudson-hv-restaurant.html">first start</a>. Sadly, Iron Horse didn’t deliver the night of our visit, but a few parts of our meal hinted at the greatness that may exist the rest of the year.<br /><br />For appetizers, there was <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Ricotta Stuffed Rigatoni</span>, with parsley sun-dried tomato pesto and pancetta:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhPXM_0KW_UvXsvp3jibnQnghGmZmDu4IBXLfLaL6Hx3USS9YGYvQwNdLNd4KnrJ480HbHocaA-p8665eQ89Kepj_5rbj1DSRhMIWfPVH51EwXtwJuaGvBGOEDfCsh0XXBcQe9DTiq57k/s1600/040.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454237366552279506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 251px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhPXM_0KW_UvXsvp3jibnQnghGmZmDu4IBXLfLaL6Hx3USS9YGYvQwNdLNd4KnrJ480HbHocaA-p8665eQ89Kepj_5rbj1DSRhMIWfPVH51EwXtwJuaGvBGOEDfCsh0XXBcQe9DTiq57k/s400/040.jpg" border="0" /></a>The rigatoni were cooked well, and had an almost doughy quality. My only disappointment was that the sauce seemed a bit common.<br /><br />Here’s a look at the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">wild mushroom soup</span> (I forgot to make note of the formal description; something about a cappucino):<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzcPtqA-gghqEjHrTSCGO08zVlwt2EHSgTc_CETIzoqh0czE5xQR8k4giA63Yl6CF7YVOwtHmWiuIHlozqXa7aTrtvl-3TVYpxL5WN_vhJPsRaj1OI_YhJS5ga24qjZi4gg-dT9uR4rpo/s1600/044.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454237408793060930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 229px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzcPtqA-gghqEjHrTSCGO08zVlwt2EHSgTc_CETIzoqh0czE5xQR8k4giA63Yl6CF7YVOwtHmWiuIHlozqXa7aTrtvl-3TVYpxL5WN_vhJPsRaj1OI_YhJS5ga24qjZi4gg-dT9uR4rpo/s400/044.jpg" border="0" /></a>This is the dish that hinted at Iron Horse’s potential. There were layers upon layers of flavors and earthiness. Elegant and tasty.<br /><br />For dinner, there was the aforementioned <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Star Anise Arctic Char</span> with stir fried edamame and crisp rice noodles:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9so7ttCZRLKrLlWEsrKm6qhKxiPQ8XNwycDGr3iX60E05ckCG1fckAejBkfTPWv7oB9bB4FMSJAPvxO_XIUhJSfUtsdvDH5EBbwE8DXpLHVDuakoRX3x8Dxq1O5X5qudVmRSDuWunHq0/s1600/046.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454237453409381074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 241px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9so7ttCZRLKrLlWEsrKm6qhKxiPQ8XNwycDGr3iX60E05ckCG1fckAejBkfTPWv7oB9bB4FMSJAPvxO_XIUhJSfUtsdvDH5EBbwE8DXpLHVDuakoRX3x8Dxq1O5X5qudVmRSDuWunHq0/s400/046.jpg" border="0" /></a> Once Todd got over the fact that his Char was not a steak, he admitted his dish was seasoned well (the star anise glaze was tangy and syrupy), and the noodles added a delightful crunch to the velvetiness of the fish. I stole a few bites and found it pleasing. It just wasn’t knocking socks off.<br /><br />Here’s my dish, the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Captain Lawrence Glazed Short Rib of Beef</span>, with Saffron-Vegetable Risotto:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTOyF_WXBAWC7Effyd-fKi9WVVg3aHmZXivfAt3NM0XL2rNG8oNQ-wVlsEQrnHB9yA4TTvdA0fd_86iT1YNViC4UJfjqrnMOEe9tS4R-c2Q32YJQY9n37eJI481S7cTqxANBwa7UoOS8s/s1600/061.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454237569131601778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTOyF_WXBAWC7Effyd-fKi9WVVg3aHmZXivfAt3NM0XL2rNG8oNQ-wVlsEQrnHB9yA4TTvdA0fd_86iT1YNViC4UJfjqrnMOEe9tS4R-c2Q32YJQY9n37eJI481S7cTqxANBwa7UoOS8s/s400/061.jpg" border="0" /></a>I enjoyed the flavors, but this tasted more like a beef stew. A little texture on the plate would’ve gone a long way; everything was so soft. I was also hoping for more innovation and punch. …as well as more food. (The portion was tiny.)<br /><br />Here’s Bill and Lori’s dish, the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Confit of Hudson Valley Duck</span>, with Black Bean Chorizo Cassoulet:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZC26d5Trb4nj-KjO7VG9xwN_5IjPkxPwnHMCpxui12lGcNZV4rc62iIkn4-1ogH8hSsQAWi7px8YMcNVWoOKp2l0jk6KmZ6z_ikuxKnMkxwL0Ei6c_r2Hch2Etds_Emyvdq-pI9UbDrw/s1600/051.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454237509602897026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 202px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZC26d5Trb4nj-KjO7VG9xwN_5IjPkxPwnHMCpxui12lGcNZV4rc62iIkn4-1ogH8hSsQAWi7px8YMcNVWoOKp2l0jk6KmZ6z_ikuxKnMkxwL0Ei6c_r2Hch2Etds_Emyvdq-pI9UbDrw/s400/051.jpg" border="0" /></a>This dish looked amazing, but duck was tough and little bland. The cassoulet had some interesting things going on. (I should mention that Lori liked her dish; and told me I was being a total hard-ass the entire night.)<br /><br />And dessert. First, the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Coconut Sorbet,</span> with Pina Colada Pineapple, Lemon “Langue du Chat”:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwToNkRqChjRb8ezdX8Igc3Id2X-LcAuFn9geot6P9A1U8d25lioSCLdQEB5nn4z3TkiFiq_gBJ1hJ-dEa6mFZyFeXLgA6E5doW-y3g4BALajo2G2dZv0N10QLEmKJA-H7Obyv0OYwAOQ/s1600/066.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454237680022546690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 239px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwToNkRqChjRb8ezdX8Igc3Id2X-LcAuFn9geot6P9A1U8d25lioSCLdQEB5nn4z3TkiFiq_gBJ1hJ-dEa6mFZyFeXLgA6E5doW-y3g4BALajo2G2dZv0N10QLEmKJA-H7Obyv0OYwAOQ/s400/066.jpg" border="0" /></a>This dish should’ve been a homerun for me (I love all the ingredients); yet something about it was overkill. Maybe it was the coconut shavings on top of the sorbet, which added unnecessary texture.<br /><br />Finally, there was the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Grand Marnier tart </span>(again, my apologies: I forgot to jot down the formal description). There was raspberry sauce, and … I do believe, “masticated orange slices?” Is that a real thing? I was half-expecting a plate full of chewed-up oranges.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYNBqw4gndIpgIB6FnWJ44hTeyZWHez8u-wg_beglRVpyfILnAI0IoWUuJjs4H4uteHQdRgXb0iVLgOLTRjtqyVOBDw47jTqgHZvxk1p_WmJsi8MmWdstaSBEbDD6HaJw9IOq6l3UYBRs/s1600/064.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454237626384727778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 253px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYNBqw4gndIpgIB6FnWJ44hTeyZWHez8u-wg_beglRVpyfILnAI0IoWUuJjs4H4uteHQdRgXb0iVLgOLTRjtqyVOBDw47jTqgHZvxk1p_WmJsi8MmWdstaSBEbDD6HaJw9IOq6l3UYBRs/s400/064.jpg" border="0" /></a>Regardless, my dad loved this dish. The rest of our table? Meh. I would’ve liked a firmer, thicker crust on the tart, but I preferred it to the coconut sorbet.<br /><br />All in all, my descriptions may come off as harsh for a restaurant as highly-esteemed as Iron Horse Grill, but they’re accurate for the level of food we sampled that night. A shame, because the soup, the personable service, and the lovely atmosphere hint at so much more. Maybe we’ll try it again soon now that Restaurant Week is over.<br /><br /><a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://www.ironhorsegrill.com/">Iron Horse Grill</a><br />20 Wheeler Avenue<br />Pleasantville, NY 10570<br />(914) 741-0717Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-32295298747778939652010-03-28T20:24:00.030-04:002010-03-28T23:32:53.843-04:00Harvest on Hudson: HVRW....Fail.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjipNw_CHPAqLiMUwF55iCNuCGOsIt5FNT6Ue-3fwSohNfrAffT4DP5x9pHo2-flljoT0SqoCqVNWaeRbnFK16lKmEf3_3hsy4ERR0q9aDXagpadGagGvdLFiOTzNjsXE36VjmRmGGlO_Y/s1600/001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 257px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjipNw_CHPAqLiMUwF55iCNuCGOsIt5FNT6Ue-3fwSohNfrAffT4DP5x9pHo2-flljoT0SqoCqVNWaeRbnFK16lKmEf3_3hsy4ERR0q9aDXagpadGagGvdLFiOTzNjsXE36VjmRmGGlO_Y/s400/001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453845379473931458" border="0" /></a>It’s always stymied me as to why during <a href="http://www.hudsonvalleyrestaurantweek.com/home.php">Restaurant Week,</a> some allegedly “great” restaurants experience such a drop in quality. Many trusted friends and colleagues have deemed Harvest on Hudson—a magnificent-looking Tuscan-style farmhouse with superb views of the River—their favorite restaurant, and have repeatedly sung its praises. Online reviews have been kind. And when I made it known that best bud Danielle and I would be dining there Thursday night as part of Hudson Valley Restaurant Week, the consensus was we were going to have a smashing time, and that the dinner would nothing short of knock us on our asses. But here’s the thing: after our meal last week, Danielle and I checked and we were most definitely <span style="font-style: italic;">not </span>on our asses; instead we were scratching our heads as to whether or not Harvest on Hudson fell under the “great restaurant” category. All we knew for certain was that it did not during Restaurant Week. Not even close.<br /><br />We had high hopes for the evening. The restaurant, as mentioned above, is very beautiful. The décor is tasteful and elegant without feeling snooty, high ceilings make the rooms feel expansive, and there was some snazzy live blues music for the majority of the night, always a treat. And the menu looked <span style="font-style: italic;">suh-weeeet</span>:<span style="font-style: italic;"> seven</span> choices for appetizers, and <span style="font-style: italic;">eight</span> for entrees, all of which sounded mouth-watering. (Dessert was a predetermined trio, but I wasn’t sweating it after the wonderful job <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2010/03/la-panetiere-hv-restaurant-week-2010.html">La Panetiere</a> had done earlier in the week.)<br /><br />Then our waiter came along. ...and brought us down faster than Marvin in <span style="font-style: italic;">Hitchhiker</span>’<span style="font-style: italic;">s Guide</span>. (I’m not looking for open-mic night when someone gives me my menu, but I also don’t expect a <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1269822814_0">bump on a log</span> from someone who is in the service industry.)<br /><br />“That guy was the <span style="font-style: italic;">worst</span>,” whispered Danielle, after Bump left. (And Danielle never says anything negative about anyone.)<br /><br />Here’s a look at our appetizers, which appeared about three minutes after we had placed our orders.<br /><br />First, my Crispy <span style="font-weight: bold;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1269822814_3">Lamb Spring Rolls</span> with Mint Tzatziki Sauce:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Z0n9xikhkUG93VkPEpU9w0MXDbMVS-yPfGEF9xHmOYk10VxM8ux_TTpn1O4FnedFWHsiso3Qwd1TulB0uSTc1mjDuvDzF5vx1_nBp-CcGl4HktELyjJ0Bzq58I3ya49RNV8t8rIYAgU/s1600/007.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1Z0n9xikhkUG93VkPEpU9w0MXDbMVS-yPfGEF9xHmOYk10VxM8ux_TTpn1O4FnedFWHsiso3Qwd1TulB0uSTc1mjDuvDzF5vx1_nBp-CcGl4HktELyjJ0Bzq58I3ya49RNV8t8rIYAgU/s400/007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453845435627183922" border="0" /></a>These rolls tasted like something I would’ve warmed up from the frozen food aisle. Except drier. And the tzatziki was just ok; it didn’t scream freshness.<br /><br />Danielle’s <span style="font-weight: bold;">Creamy Polenta</span>, with house-made mortadella meatballs and Harvest <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1269822814_1">Tomato Sauce</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlbxfjixA0TJgjr7lz9gD10b9zJlq_-qSAf7X4ZKc7r05gCJoyClyGC1MlcwxGYKqHoflMsMhFWebDexHjgB_CLt6UT0uAkLFD5bdWZuNUwjlxhT7bZmHXBWttK9gjNpjZpACm4laEWFA/s1600/011.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 247px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlbxfjixA0TJgjr7lz9gD10b9zJlq_-qSAf7X4ZKc7r05gCJoyClyGC1MlcwxGYKqHoflMsMhFWebDexHjgB_CLt6UT0uAkLFD5bdWZuNUwjlxhT7bZmHXBWttK9gjNpjZpACm4laEWFA/s400/011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453845507033474626" border="0" /></a>“House-made?” Really? These meatballs had no texture and reminded both of us of <span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1269822814_2">Chef Boyardee</span>. Same thing for the tomato sauce. Neither of the dishes wowed us with presentation either. They were sloppy, with spatters on the plate, and the mint and Italian parsley thrown in both dishes seemed like afterthoughts. Blah.<br /><br />A bus-boy collected both plates while Danielle was spooning the last piece of polenta into her mouth.<br /><br />Seconds later, our dinners appeared. My plate felt lukewarm; Danielle’s was scorching.<br /><br />Danielle’s <span style="font-weight: bold;">Seared Salmon</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V21vZzqUEoY3QY0_rn2-MWanKU_evA__vy4SjK6R8UjOfRzpCRBPTqmcJT9XIwlWyl6yk2GnqySElCXRicoZwrxQ6_HB55bzrdZ-iIvJHGB-bsQz4edbfN0kYNMvAawYeh0mc_AO3Oo/s1600/017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 259px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V21vZzqUEoY3QY0_rn2-MWanKU_evA__vy4SjK6R8UjOfRzpCRBPTqmcJT9XIwlWyl6yk2GnqySElCXRicoZwrxQ6_HB55bzrdZ-iIvJHGB-bsQz4edbfN0kYNMvAawYeh0mc_AO3Oo/s400/017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453845595014015522" border="0" /></a>I stole a small piece of salmon and pronounced it decent. Not much flavor going on (thinking back, Danielle asked for no citrus butter, so it’s not the restaurant’s fault), but tender and juicy, and I appreciated how the skin had a good crisp. Danielle, however, the salmon expert, said the fish was just “ok.” We had bigger issues with the roasted red peppers, which did not taste fresh at all; instead, we suspected they were packed in water and from a jar. Really disappointing. I cut corners all the time in the kitchen, but even I will roast my own red peppers, because I don’t like the jar taste. The house-made gnocchi was a clever addition, and added a pleasant chewy texture, but they were few and far between.<br /><br />Here’s my <span style="font-weight: bold;">Porcini-Crusted Monkfish</span> with risotto guanciale, shrimp, parsnips, and chianti reduction:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Hoc6qYTwWbQJhyREFEDPOeDr2vK0SKtnmOv4nNw_ex0AOlCoFywNAbPVvsJBG4eK1VVc3CePTdrjctLUo4hkMiYZRvlLqgaZ9NMMFJ0RUmq-9TOHT96X2E5-gUbn4N_f-IQxlxLOzt0/s1600/014.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 221px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7Hoc6qYTwWbQJhyREFEDPOeDr2vK0SKtnmOv4nNw_ex0AOlCoFywNAbPVvsJBG4eK1VVc3CePTdrjctLUo4hkMiYZRvlLqgaZ9NMMFJ0RUmq-9TOHT96X2E5-gUbn4N_f-IQxlxLOzt0/s400/014.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453845549804372770" border="0" /></a>This tasted re-heated as well. I expected more complex, layered flavors from the amazing menu description; instead, this was pretty one-note.<br /><br />It took about 30 minutes for us to finish both our appetizers and our dinners. We were certain we were being rushed; but then came the wait for dessert.<br /><br />We sat. And sat some more. Danielle and I didn’t mind, because we can chat until closing time and still have more to say. After about an hour, though, a different server appeared (where was Bump?).<br /><br />“Can I get you two anything else this evening?” she asked us with a smile, reaching for the bill.<br /><br />“Just our desserts!” Danielle said brightly, with a dazzling smile of her own.<br /><br />The server was very apologetic, and our <span style="font-weight: bold;">Dessert Trio</span> appeared about a half-hour later.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQa3UtKD2N5Fye2qXAfhAEs01yh1bEMcBAYn09J2ULZgkS2Ofmqq7HkIArvDNWA0ITuhTN47bhKvGMSopbZwgNZVK8USxaegqMwEzK-ib6i1GGUAPv63hVYeTEz9xVw_tCR83e-n1D1aE/s1600/030.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQa3UtKD2N5Fye2qXAfhAEs01yh1bEMcBAYn09J2ULZgkS2Ofmqq7HkIArvDNWA0ITuhTN47bhKvGMSopbZwgNZVK8USxaegqMwEzK-ib6i1GGUAPv63hVYeTEz9xVw_tCR83e-n1D1aE/s400/030.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453845680123846450" border="0" /></a>On the left is a <span style="background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 0%; cursor: pointer; -moz-background-clip: border; -moz-background-origin: padding; -moz-background-inline-policy: continuous;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1269822814_4">flourless chocolate cake</span> with caramel and chocolate sauce; the top, a tiramisu with coffee anglaise, and in front, the vanilla panna cotta.<br /><br />None of these were winners. The chocolate cake was dry and pretty much inedible. The <span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1269822814_5">panna cotta</span> was pretty good, but I would’ve liked it a bit firmer, and oddly enough, the tiramisu was all right (I don’t really like tiramisu—I think they went easy on the coffee anglaise).<br /><br />“I’m so disappointed,” said the normally chipper Danielle, moving the chocolate cake around in her plate somewhat pathetically.<br /><br />I hear ya, buddy.<br /><br />Here’s our tea.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbYkST4CoFZv73CYVhcAwKvl3A1MIsI7PYyOdRfJf-UGugWBkrNk1AxdRbjB58MDKQbHIFtYwGNYLOtRuAOL9ZCM6w2DmQjDdDzAHokiItRdj1JLcp4wsb4w2PRlBYhic2RXoTHC3jh1w/s1600/021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbYkST4CoFZv73CYVhcAwKvl3A1MIsI7PYyOdRfJf-UGugWBkrNk1AxdRbjB58MDKQbHIFtYwGNYLOtRuAOL9ZCM6w2DmQjDdDzAHokiItRdj1JLcp4wsb4w2PRlBYhic2RXoTHC3jh1w/s400/021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453845640857576642" border="0" /></a>Cute.<br /><br />I’m curious how a dinner outside of Restaurant Week at Harvest on Hudson would compare to the train-wreck Danielle and I experienced. Would a new kitchen be at the helm? Would Bump be replaced with Mr. Winning Personality, Smooth Talker Guy? But why the drop in service in the first place? Aren’t restaurants prepared to operate at full capacity?<br /><br /><a href="http://www.harvest2000.com/"> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Harvest on Hudson</span></a><br />1 <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1269822814_6">River Street<br />Hastings</span> on Hudson, NY 10706<br /><span style="border-bottom: 1px dashed rgb(0, 102, 204); cursor: pointer;" class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1269822814_7">914-478-2800</span><br /><a target="_blank" href="http://www.harvest2000.com/"><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1269822814_8"><br /></span></a>Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-2588244290385870122010-03-23T00:24:00.024-04:002010-03-23T08:42:32.401-04:00La Panetière: HV Restaurant Week 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Ske-2u7U54vY9g8jKVqFj_Adee3h_EVCj5SFzq5N4YbgCcdIU6adlme0PoABTbWdt-L8WqVaa_9ntElpQJhKBjarzDDOxhGGZ_ZHs7qGOS8_RVMs0b0npeOXMeOWEWmkI-1WlD6WfBI/s1600-h/019.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451680686434657746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Ske-2u7U54vY9g8jKVqFj_Adee3h_EVCj5SFzq5N4YbgCcdIU6adlme0PoABTbWdt-L8WqVaa_9ntElpQJhKBjarzDDOxhGGZ_ZHs7qGOS8_RVMs0b0npeOXMeOWEWmkI-1WlD6WfBI/s400/019.jpg" border="0" /></a>Last Tuesday, I visited La Panetière in Rye to commence <a href="http://www.hudsonvalleyrestaurantweek.com/home.php">Hudson Valley Restaurant Week 2010</a>. I’m just now getting around to blogging about it because I am the worst blogger in the whole world. …Well, I take that back. The worst blogger in the <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">world </span>would blog about a Restaurant Week dinner after Restaurant Week was over. So… I guess that makes me… the penultimate worst blogger. If I am even using the word “penultimate” correctly.<br /><br />Anyhoooo, I’ve been curious about La Panetière for some time. I drive by it regularly on my way to Playland, the Boardwalk, or the Edith Read Sanctuary, and it’s got a decidedly charming, residential vibe to it—in that old-school Westchester mansion kind of way (don’t let my Tim Burton-esque photo fool you). A friend of mine also told me a few years back that a couple he knew had the most expensive dinner ever there, which piqued my curiosity. (Later on, I found out that it wasn’t because the prices were obscene; it was because Guy ordered a $200 bottle of wine. But the story stayed with me, and made La Panetière seem like one of those “special occasion” places.)<br /><br />My girls Tia, Erin and Jen and I arrived separately after work, each having our cars valeted at no charge. Inside, a few things struck me. One, the restaurant seemed smaller than I thought it would be. Outside, you have this big old house, but inside, it’s this cozy little dining room that reminded me of a French bed and breakfast. I wondered briefly if the chef and staff lived upstairs. Then I thought it was probably more likely that there were other dining rooms (anyone know?). The <a href="http://www.lapanetiere.com/">website</a> says they have banquet facilities and on-site catering, so that could also solve my mystery. Our particular room was adorable with French Country china, old clocks, and quaint hutches, yet also exuded fine-dining elegance (servers dressed to the nines). All in all, it was a suitable choice for four women looking to enjoy dinner and be pampered (or have afternoon tea! This place would be <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">super awesome</span> for afternoon tea).<br /><br />A word about service: our group was one of the younger parties of the evening, and all of us were dressed pretty casually. In no way were we made to feel inferior, even when we each ordered tap water at the beginning of the meal (we later ordered wine)—our server didn’t bat an eyelash, and might’ve even said something like “Very good!” This respect and professionalism held true for the entire evening, and went a long way in making us feel comfortable.<br /><br />Let’s get to the food.<br /><br />I’m sorry to say I don’t have a picture of the country bread that was continually offered to our table. The outside was this crusty, powdery perfection; the inside was so soft and dense it almost tasted raw—but in the most unbelievably satisfying way. <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Love </span>a place that knows how to make bread.<br /><br />For appetizers, Erin, Jen, and myself couldn’t resist ordering the same dish, the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Gnocchi Ricotta</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9gPK1WuKpOspi4OHz94cQ3slV8m7HfYkNrVumYPHUp20Tn4EY8z8i3VfQlYJnQfSpYuShRF8oaooXAqOS_ZhiVEW7yz-AUhYDZ8urswZ3Mt3dCu7IwSXcv9Fn6Ms4RgrxS8I5Bs_IEA/s1600-h/023.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451680732533318338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 224px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9gPK1WuKpOspi4OHz94cQ3slV8m7HfYkNrVumYPHUp20Tn4EY8z8i3VfQlYJnQfSpYuShRF8oaooXAqOS_ZhiVEW7yz-AUhYDZ8urswZ3Mt3dCu7IwSXcv9Fn6Ms4RgrxS8I5Bs_IEA/s400/023.jpg" border="0" /></a>I kind of wish we did resist it, though. This gnochhi wasn’t <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">bad</span>, it just in no way resembled what we were hoping for (dense little dumplings that would sit in our stomachs for weeks). The consistency here reminded us of dry mashed potatoes. We tried to keep an open mind, but all in all, we were disappointed. More sauce would’ve helped. The pancetta was good (it’s <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">pancetta</span>, duh), and the wild mushrooms and onions were well-seasoned, but they were such tiny elements of the plate, they couldn’t save the dish.<br /><br />Tia ordered the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Winter Veloute</span>, a celery root, pear, roasted chestnut, and curry-scented soup:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1HSlKq4nv0AC23dEHDi4g5cJdW-8uhov1WawPfFdBDG8Hir0xddmT_7-3D9e1E4Llo2iUHMehU9nmikuOksXzrD0ozqNyde4WV01cUvCADC25kGa2lE0j8uXPCtyTxTdGplSC3bpcH8/s1600-h/027.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451680770777041058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 253px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs1HSlKq4nv0AC23dEHDi4g5cJdW-8uhov1WawPfFdBDG8Hir0xddmT_7-3D9e1E4Llo2iUHMehU9nmikuOksXzrD0ozqNyde4WV01cUvCADC25kGa2lE0j8uXPCtyTxTdGplSC3bpcH8/s400/027.jpg" border="0" /></a>I took a bite, and was impressed that I had never tasted anything like it before—rich and creamy, yet simultaneously refreshing and zesty. ..But I couldn’t necessarily tell if I <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">liked </span>it. Neither could Tia.<br /><br />For dinner, Erin and Jen order the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Beef Short Ribs</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBIAPNRLL0Q8JUrZtljepdu7bnD5bObg7Fi7bbzTzAb7WBOPanzRiNoTdYJkYryAwNdwhjUYiHQ9HcDO6NqHIPS1KCyScpJg2hQbeEXUZFl8kpeOwcdfcIJOEs6ogIiNjz2MJ1qWWm9g/s1600-h/033.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451680809104790466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 247px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBIAPNRLL0Q8JUrZtljepdu7bnD5bObg7Fi7bbzTzAb7WBOPanzRiNoTdYJkYryAwNdwhjUYiHQ9HcDO6NqHIPS1KCyScpJg2hQbeEXUZFl8kpeOwcdfcIJOEs6ogIiNjz2MJ1qWWm9g/s400/033.jpg" border="0" /></a>This was a winner. There was a flavorful potato mousseline, and a crunchy salad of apples and carrot chips, but the showstopper was the beef. The butter at our table put up a better fight with our knives. And the skin had a wonderful char.<br /><br />Tia got the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Braised Duck Leg</span>, served with quinoa, pomegranate, vegetables brunoise, and cranberry sauce.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWCLfiUAYG4RHs12kwOCUlM-PiZFV60rQyICLseVysck5WJSesNiMMiQCWi9bRvH69XcaW_wMoe8I0uDPHi9jsilXnKD569wy1U5NL3scjbBdJZg2vmUTBK-WMgKPXkIEe5muw7cJtvlg/s1600-h/040.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451680856385578562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 239px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWCLfiUAYG4RHs12kwOCUlM-PiZFV60rQyICLseVysck5WJSesNiMMiQCWi9bRvH69XcaW_wMoe8I0uDPHi9jsilXnKD569wy1U5NL3scjbBdJZg2vmUTBK-WMgKPXkIEe5muw7cJtvlg/s400/040.jpg" border="0" /></a>Tia liked her dish, but I stole a bite and was unimpressed. The duck was cooked very well—moist, yet not greasy at all—but it lacked flavor. Pomegranates and cranberries, although a nice combo, couldn’t save it. And quinoa has to be my least favorite grain.<br /><br />I ordered the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Assorted Seafood Risotto</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixxlVcOdq6_h-dk1puLKhMM51CCuABkEs245AVOCHcXAx3kNMELAQPEE09O4-WK8c4hXUBFfPgBEJjaebxVJ52UGpZ57KJ01hKxMCn3weCp1qWnYlGiWduWkTlh8I5Ma2J8a9BpYNwOo/s1600-h/044.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451680904615304098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 249px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiixxlVcOdq6_h-dk1puLKhMM51CCuABkEs245AVOCHcXAx3kNMELAQPEE09O4-WK8c4hXUBFfPgBEJjaebxVJ52UGpZ57KJ01hKxMCn3weCp1qWnYlGiWduWkTlh8I5Ma2J8a9BpYNwOo/s400/044.jpg" border="0" /></a>Pretty, but the first thing Erin observed was that the broth looked as if it had been sitting under a heat lamp for a while, and the top had solidified. I also thought the scallops tasted undercooked, but the rest of the seafood was prepared well. While the dish had some problems, the flavor ultimately trumped them.<br /><br />When I found out that there was only one option for dessert, the enigmatically described “<span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Dessert Sampler</span>,” I had a mini-meltdown.<br /><br />“I know it, guys. I can just feel it in my bones,” I whispered to my girlfriends. “They’re going to bring us a plateful of dry cookies. Like biscotti or something.” (I’m just not a fan of biscotti when I go out to eat. I was preparing myself to feel cheated.)<br /><br />“Biscotti doesn’t sound very French,” Tia murmured.<br /><br />This is what was set before us instead:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQdDu2rFzuXABFqUHqULqgnbr62TJKnV36rfGA3eBRknsv-wXTpu7MyU_uLGx_lakpIv9pizYJQ8WLTLrlkbDDC4ypYUzlXAViHbX6LPF3_EJKLwicuNn-l6W297Dt41Sh17BaeXN1ojk/s1600-h/051.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451680962928672050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 232px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQdDu2rFzuXABFqUHqULqgnbr62TJKnV36rfGA3eBRknsv-wXTpu7MyU_uLGx_lakpIv9pizYJQ8WLTLrlkbDDC4ypYUzlXAViHbX6LPF3_EJKLwicuNn-l6W297Dt41Sh17BaeXN1ojk/s400/051.jpg" border="0" /></a>OH, how I loved these little desserts! The presentation was obviously pretty, but that little lemon tart on the right was pure perfection. (The chocolate espresso cake was fine, but I would’ve gladly traded it in for more lemon tart.) And the lemon sorbet: grainy, refreshing, lip-puckeringly sour—my friends found it almost <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">too </span>sour... but my friends are fools!—this sorbet packed a punch in the best way possible.<br /><br />If you go by some of my food descriptors above, you might have second thoughts about trying La Panetière for Restaurant Week. But there were two clear winners on the menu: the short ribs and the dessert tray. Service was top-notch, and the dining room was very pleasant. There are reasons to visit, and for $28, now is the time. Can’t say how happy I would’ve been if I had paid regular price for the gnocchi, the soup, or the duck, but all in all, I think there are interesting things happening on the menu. And hey, now <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">you </span>can avoid those dishes!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.lapanetiere.com/"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">La Panetière</span></a><br />530 Milton Road<br />Rye, NY 10580-3304<br />(914) 967-8140Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-2118880870944922662010-03-21T18:28:00.021-04:002010-03-22T20:20:17.730-04:00X20: Xaviars on the Hudson: HV Restaurant Week<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-psjYWFVz_tsOj3vHnfJSecGj4H8cPbSHM-VUp4_FJN__DYkbI5holDUdcz4UtOFRncpflp9PX2zCUBUlIrEGJy1pdJ3xo2iJ_z_UyVBiLanYfndt5zkfWgkeCs89uPXhesWukMwzXs/s1600-h/053.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451217826547697650" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 271px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5-psjYWFVz_tsOj3vHnfJSecGj4H8cPbSHM-VUp4_FJN__DYkbI5holDUdcz4UtOFRncpflp9PX2zCUBUlIrEGJy1pdJ3xo2iJ_z_UyVBiLanYfndt5zkfWgkeCs89uPXhesWukMwzXs/s400/053.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Phewwwww!</span><br /><br />That was me, Sharon, letting out a sigh of relief. See, this entry, in addition to being published at <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/">The Good Life</a>, is also being published at Liz Johnson’s <a href="http://lizjohnson.lohudblogs.com/2010/03/22/hvrw-guest-blogger-sharon-from-the-good-life-on-x20/">Small Bites</a> site for special <a href="http://www.hudsonvalleyrestaurantweek.com/home.php">Hudson Valley Restaurant Week</a> coverage. I <a href="http://lizjohnson.lohudblogs.com/2010/03/09/meet-guest-blogger-sharon-from-the-good-life/">volunteered a couple of weeks ago</a> to write about my experience at Peter Kelly’s X20: Xaviar’s on the Hudson and boldly declared, ‘Let the chips fall where they may,’ and ‘Who cares if Peter Kelly is a superstar chef who pals around with Bill Murray, slays Bobby Flay on <span style="font-style: italic;">Iron Chef</span>, and makes Anthony Bourdain actually say <span style="font-style: italic;">nice </span>things about a chef? If the meal is lousy, you’ll hear it from me, because diners need to know which restaurant should earn their $28 come HV Restaurant Week.’<br /><br />I needn’t have worried: the restaurant, which sits on the Hudson River and has always reminded me of Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeve’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Lake House</span>, is indeed a winner, and what a relief, because I’ve decided there’s no place in town I’d be more horrified to be blacklisted from than X20.<br /><br />Simply put: what a marvelous evening! And what huge strides the restaurant has made since the <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/x20-xaviars-on-hudson-sorry-peter-kelly.html">last time</a> I visited for Hudson Valley Restaurant Week two years ago. On that occasion, while the food was very good, two of the three Restaurant Week entrees looked and tasted so similar I left feeling like I had no idea what I could expect from the regular menu if I ventured back for a non-restaurant week dinner.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">This </span>time? There were choices <span style="font-style: italic;">galore</span>!<br /><br />My dining companion Todd and I were seated in the main level of the restaurant (there’s also a smaller dining area upstairs that’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop—avoid the upstairs if possible); within moments, a polished, dapper gentleman deposited menus in front of us, and began telling us about the specials for the evening.<br /><br />This is when my eyes glazed over and I let my mind wander to the fabulous weather we’ve been having and how nice it would be to take a boat out onto the Hudson and race it under the Tappan Zee Bridge, which had caught my eye through the window. (Normally, I enjoy listening to dinner specials, but this was an exception: I knew I had come out to take advantage of the $28 dinner; it was pointless to get excited about a dish that was going to jack up the price.)<br /><br />Todd, on the other hand, was having other ideas.<br /><br />“How much is that rock shrimp appetizer you just mentioned?” he asked.<br /><br />Our server looked surprised. “Each of the specials I mentioned to you is a part of the Restaurant Week menu,” he said. “You can order any of those and still come in at $28.”<br /><br />Now I was all ears. This was going to be embarrassing.<br /><br />“I’m sorry,” I said. “Could you describe the rock shrimp appetizer again?”<br /><br />It was a rock shrimp risotto in lobster sauce.<br /><br />“…and…. what about that entrée?”<br /><br />Duck.<br /><br />“…. And… the dessert?”<br /><br />Blueberry cobbler. Our server was still smiling, despite having gone through all of the specials twice. A classy guy, our server.<br /><br />Here’s my point: who would’ve thought that X20 would be serving <span style="font-style: italic;">Restaurant Week</span> specials? The restaurant already had four choices each for Appetizer, Entrée, and Dessert, (normally, restaurants have three, and some offer only one dessert). X20 was bringing the grand total of choices to <span style="font-style: italic;">five</span>. FIVE choices for each course! You <span style="font-style: italic;">go</span>, X20.<br /><br />Here’s how the rest of our dinner went down:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNHtzDfH_XGI7PbT-ZunsCkbTZBz_g1oo8VyaY5_P5L_4XST7o441sVDZaUfwr7EuyWSobvvZ68hgVlk5C08RX9IBzJ-eWsBTL07j1qxTtalPt1hiU70WrKuLwCBMeaGS2OYuMFSrg0BI/s1600-h/055.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451217869969736210" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 267px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNHtzDfH_XGI7PbT-ZunsCkbTZBz_g1oo8VyaY5_P5L_4XST7o441sVDZaUfwr7EuyWSobvvZ68hgVlk5C08RX9IBzJ-eWsBTL07j1qxTtalPt1hiU70WrKuLwCBMeaGS2OYuMFSrg0BI/s400/055.jpg" border="0" /></a>Complimentary gorgonzola biscuit. Nice way to start the meal. The bread guy was also carrying some crusty, delicious-looking French bread, which he said we could have too, but Todd and I stuck with the biscuit.<br /><br />To drink was a $40 bottle of “<span style="font-weight: bold;">Right Banks Red</span>,” a blend, from Hudson Valley Farms right here in New York. The wine distributor, Bill, was extremely happy with our choice, saying he had made it himself. Like a proud papa, he checked on us throughout the evening, curious as to how the wine was holding up through our meal (fantastic).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8E3cAlSz7ARAijqpxmomb5B_OX3M4poKMHN25xugVE0-wWN9tiMrAOWzG0NSxSna1WgCrHeQ-AknRjtFXhlOqAqHjS3Gq8T7pI0nOAycqDwkyp5qdlIJ95Z0GVz8vuAwaDyAw5euh0vY/s1600-h/074.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451218083852239778" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 267px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8E3cAlSz7ARAijqpxmomb5B_OX3M4poKMHN25xugVE0-wWN9tiMrAOWzG0NSxSna1WgCrHeQ-AknRjtFXhlOqAqHjS3Gq8T7pI0nOAycqDwkyp5qdlIJ95Z0GVz8vuAwaDyAw5euh0vY/s400/074.jpg" border="0" /></a>Our appetizers:<br /><br />Todd’s <span style="font-weight: bold;">Rock Shrimp Risotto with Lobster Sauce</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZktRO-cBTvMPL0clSz89OxdFjBt5Qqcjr69mjrws4XpV_llvd2dSRvoGKJdd1pXJD-d2lWTcEMH39iOpMP9BQb9I6sjEHHadGluu0LoZNBJgSutFJmydqF1QxyQZM6nHQIVvNcR1gQcA/s1600-h/061.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451217914837310770" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 222px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZktRO-cBTvMPL0clSz89OxdFjBt5Qqcjr69mjrws4XpV_llvd2dSRvoGKJdd1pXJD-d2lWTcEMH39iOpMP9BQb9I6sjEHHadGluu0LoZNBJgSutFJmydqF1QxyQZM6nHQIVvNcR1gQcA/s400/061.jpg" border="0" /></a>(“See? He <span style="font-style: italic;">listened </span>to the specials,” our server admonished me.) This was a wonderful risotto: rich and creamy, with a slight kick (garlic?), and nice chunky pieces of shrimp.<br /><br />I stuck with the regular menu and ordered the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Spicy Tuna Roll with Avocado</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4QZGoBtl-bKQZZyHaenWVR66GFfB2rSmR93EwVFns1QALcSUG5teXFgmry9hOQi76b-r4LfHZAbDgLt0D1xIBUwdPXa_cDgVqK3cQ-SggHTGm6M27AQ9IbItynJ8AyrvAXl04McYFBdc/s1600-h/067.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451217957960760978" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 214px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4QZGoBtl-bKQZZyHaenWVR66GFfB2rSmR93EwVFns1QALcSUG5teXFgmry9hOQi76b-r4LfHZAbDgLt0D1xIBUwdPXa_cDgVqK3cQ-SggHTGm6M27AQ9IbItynJ8AyrvAXl04McYFBdc/s400/067.jpg" border="0" /></a>Yep, that’s eight slices there, an extremely generous portion for an appetizer. I’ve ordered tuna at X20 before and deemed it some of the freshest raw seafood I’ve ever had. This spicy tuna was equally fresh. Surprisingly, the little frisee salad in the middle of the plate with the yuzu vinaigrette ended up stealing the show. Each element was so remarkably fresh, with the yuzu added such a sweet, unexpected <span style="font-style: italic;">ping!</span>. I could’ve easily made a meal out it.<br /><br />For dinner, Todd ordered the <span style="font-weight: bold;">New York Sirloin</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfiU-uMce1g_4JNMhtoDMOT1iT3G_tUzkRfxFSoWPMwJPrl-XSjXONH5eGf7N960L146MjaL5O_avLQmiTwRsxTCSJZlqguzJjE7BYnirDduOpmob_t-_I5aThIdlGhToTQ4atT0pWVyM/s1600-h/083.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451218151538093570" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 242px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfiU-uMce1g_4JNMhtoDMOT1iT3G_tUzkRfxFSoWPMwJPrl-XSjXONH5eGf7N960L146MjaL5O_avLQmiTwRsxTCSJZlqguzJjE7BYnirDduOpmob_t-_I5aThIdlGhToTQ4atT0pWVyM/s400/083.jpg" border="0" /></a>This was very good. I’m convinced Peter Kelly’s strength is steak. So many friends have raved about the masterfully seasoned/grilled piece of meat they experienced at X20 or <a href="http://www.xaviars.com/restx/index.html">Restaurant X</a> in Congers. Here, the caramelized shallots and sauce choron (a béarnaise sauce with tomato paste) added a creamy kick. There were also some buttery Haricot Verts with a killer snap, and a waxy, truffled Yukon potato puree (with a whole piece of sage inside a potato chip). A winner.<br /><br />I ordered the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Grilled Loin of Black Hog Pork</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQ3KMzdLOtKQ13OwUdRF6kbVHiVdiebzMos7VPpOOf6qmjQ4AgPxfArdgy8FBn9jGtB2LpHClhmvwSVDHGBzrMMeWc_2LkfQleaA47WGlfkTamIUxAQeVY-Tt5k8TQkkL7bHk_0dvHGw/s1600-h/084.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451218198382336402" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 254px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQ3KMzdLOtKQ13OwUdRF6kbVHiVdiebzMos7VPpOOf6qmjQ4AgPxfArdgy8FBn9jGtB2LpHClhmvwSVDHGBzrMMeWc_2LkfQleaA47WGlfkTamIUxAQeVY-Tt5k8TQkkL7bHk_0dvHGw/s400/084.jpg" border="0" /></a>Another generous portion, but I appreciated the understated elegance of Todd’s sirloin to the more in-your-face flavors of this pork dish. Almost unidentifiable on the upper-left are fried brussel sprouts, which I <span style="font-style: italic;">adored</span>, however, I’ve spoken to people who have ordered these same brussel sprouts, really looking forward to brussel sprouts, who were disappointed when these little fellas rolled out instead. They’re <span style="font-style: italic;">different</span>. I suppose because I had no preconceived notion of what I was eating (I just took a bite and said, “This is good; it reminds me of something. What is it?”), I was delighted to discover I was eating brussel sprouts. If I were <span style="font-style: italic;">expecting </span>brussel sprouts, maybe it would’ve been a different story. Also on the left was a sweet potato and ginger mousseline. The ginger was a bit overpowering, but the flavors still went nicely together. Points for creativity!<br /><br />And now for our desserts, which were the show-stoppers of the evening.<br /><br />Over on Todd’s plate, you have<span style="font-weight: bold;"> Old Bushmill’s Butterscotch Pudding</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht8gyfTRmiyFr0qVU3CH23zesRQOmolh8f9qr8MrlL09LP5KQ_CA8ol0fMzQoS1xIddl9JZmbAUZeEvuRNT-PMiZTFghU0vk00JDwxcLMFIFlY9LkukVRYWZxmI_fQW9f8mfWEYRG55OY/s1600-h/093.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451218249867592242" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 290px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht8gyfTRmiyFr0qVU3CH23zesRQOmolh8f9qr8MrlL09LP5KQ_CA8ol0fMzQoS1xIddl9JZmbAUZeEvuRNT-PMiZTFghU0vk00JDwxcLMFIFlY9LkukVRYWZxmI_fQW9f8mfWEYRG55OY/s400/093.jpg" border="0" /></a>Ie: the best butterscotch pudding I’ve ever tasted, reminiscent of a crème brule. And those little lady fingers on the right? Little pillows. Insanely good. If I had to recommend one dessert on the menu, it’d be this one. I say that even with Peter Kelly’s famous Red Velvet Cake on the menu (I don’t even like red velvet cake, but his cake is something else entirely), and my dessert, which was also killer.<br /><br />Here’s mine, the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Warm Banana & Walnut Bread Pudding</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_tw9VfwIt5gwfPBxlGUp-DwXgHoBNy3IFHZ6vebVBigjgB229qVlfYzOVz-0srmpn6wslm-Ei8rBANzVa1IRUrkTJQNGQ8yoDXNGiQ7mOGXPtqIhy8yMgVFDsvlTcAKXaeYW2OHddWjs/s1600-h/097.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451218309047247522" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 274px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_tw9VfwIt5gwfPBxlGUp-DwXgHoBNy3IFHZ6vebVBigjgB229qVlfYzOVz-0srmpn6wslm-Ei8rBANzVa1IRUrkTJQNGQ8yoDXNGiQ7mOGXPtqIhy8yMgVFDsvlTcAKXaeYW2OHddWjs/s400/097.jpg" border="0" /></a>I’ve had delicious bread pudding before, but when I bit into this, I would every so often get a taste of mashed banana that was<span style="font-style: italic;"> so. unbelievably. fresh</span>. It tied the whole dish together. Outstanding.<br /><br />Here’s a pic of two coconut macaroons that accompanied our very reasonable bill:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2gzUQyx-29wijENafSAhaOlsnfcyuB37rFwr-VeM7vNXxDZnOjfIG8ZdDY0W_QbxuAsVHu5AN6pquMgxvhNZttwE8t6wXLUWBmrDTi27JXW-hMD8stjOlFXDiePuP8eqUn2wHXby25M/s1600-h/106.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451218371440518002" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 249px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf2gzUQyx-29wijENafSAhaOlsnfcyuB37rFwr-VeM7vNXxDZnOjfIG8ZdDY0W_QbxuAsVHu5AN6pquMgxvhNZttwE8t6wXLUWBmrDTi27JXW-hMD8stjOlFXDiePuP8eqUn2wHXby25M/s400/106.jpg" border="0" /></a>Fellas: X20 is one classy establishment. You’ve got the views, ambiance, a professional staff capable of serving a well-paced meal even during the craziness of Restaurant Week, a superstar chef who likes to come out and greet you (also during the craziness of Restaurant Week), and dishes that are daring in flavor combinations, but still resemble the meat and potatoes you crave.<br /><br />Here’s hoping you can score a last-minute ressie this week, even if you have to eat at 9:30 at night. It’s worth it.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.xaviars.com/"><span style="font-weight: bold;">X20: Xaviars on the Hudson</span></a><br />71 Water Grant Street<br />Yonkers, NY 10701<br />(914) 965-1111Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-51549129495680026422010-03-15T21:10:00.037-04:002011-10-02T19:35:54.680-04:00Okinawa Soba... Behold!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib-kCr6tPzVMNVeosZDyi1iAbSqdK_LH9tkqo3D5Kl9kYjE4UQk-cwmIR1YNw6a1eL34lLLQyDB0QdBWp32dysyGZjLwGW0omhhdwgPDZB36o58ZdUSZTtZBR2J3gRj5hysiAQl4m4y8A/s1600-h/OkinawaSobaintro.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449034035479934882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib-kCr6tPzVMNVeosZDyi1iAbSqdK_LH9tkqo3D5Kl9kYjE4UQk-cwmIR1YNw6a1eL34lLLQyDB0QdBWp32dysyGZjLwGW0omhhdwgPDZB36o58ZdUSZTtZBR2J3gRj5hysiAQl4m4y8A/s400/OkinawaSobaintro.jpg" border="0" /></a>Some of you may be all, “Hey, where’d Sharon go?”<br /><br />To those people (although I do appreciate you noticed I was gone), I’d have to be all, “Back off! I’ve been making Okinawa soba. From scratch!”<br /><br />Above you have the fruits of all-day labor. All. Day. And boy, was it worth it. This is a Real Deal Holyfield recipe for people who don’t want to cut corners. We’re talking homemade pork stock, thick, chewy noodles containing a somewhat bizarre secret ingredient (don’t worry, I reveal it below), and rafute (pork belly braised in Awamori, an Okinawan liquor with a taste somewhere between Jack Daniels and sake).<br /><br />Why all the labor? Why the countless hours? Well sit back, and let me take you back to 2006, when my mom, uncle and I had the best bowl of noodles known to man at Kishimoto Soba in Motobu, Okinawa. This restaurant (if you could call this nondescript shack a restaurant) isn’t one you’ll find in guidebooks; instead, it’s one you take a chance on based on the long line that spans outside the door and down the back alley. It’s a line that makes you overlook the patrons who have to step outside to wash their hands at the outdoor sink, or the 30-minute wait it takes to duck inside the cramped, bare-bones room and eat at a table full of strangers. As we waited outside that afternoon, I peaked into a window leading into the kitchen. I saw an elderly woman smile back at me, countless creases forming around her eyes, making her look even older. Dried noodles hung around her from every imaginable corner, making her little shack look as if it had just been toilet-papered on Halloween. “Heck,” I joked to my mom, “a restaurant’s got to be doing something right if its menu only has two options [“small bowl” or “large bowl”].”<br /><br />A little background: upon arriving in Naha about a week prior, we had consumed countless bowls of soba. Each bowl was delicious, yet all were pretty much the same: a piece of tender rafute, a slice of steamed fish cake, pickled ginger, scallions, all placed atop a bed of noodles swimming in broth. So what made Kishimoto’s noodles so special? I wondered this aloud as I dug into my bowl that afternoon. Why were these so much chewier and more flavorful?<br /><br />“Tree ash,” my mom’s cousin Eddie said brightly, between slurps.<br /><br />I looked at Eddie suspiciously, yet quickly chalked up his answer to a translation glitch (overlooking the fact that his English is impeccable). Then—as is quite easy to do—I thought nothing of tree ash for many, many months to come.<br /><br />Back in New York years later, however, my mom and I couldn’t shake that meal. The noodles haunted our dreams, and caused wails of disappointment if we tried to re-create the magic in soba houses across Manhattan. Nothing came close.<br /><br />But, as luck would have it, one day my mom received an Okinawan cookbook from a friend by mail. Under the description for “Okinawa Soba,” plain as day, it instructed: “For two months, dry chopped wood, then burn to ash.”<br /><br />No <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">shit</span>, I thought. Eddie wasn’t pulling our leg!<br /><br />On further investigation, my mom and I learned that kneading flour with the lye obtained from natural wood ashes is a traditional method of making noodles that’s been around for many, many years in areas of China and Thailand, and, in Japan, solely in Okinawa. That’s all my mom needed to hear before she began to ask co-workers with wood-burning stoves to save their ashes.<br /><br />It was time to bring Kishimoto’s noodles to New York!<br /><br />Here follows the long arduous, process of making Okinawa Soba, in three parts: 1.) Okinawa Soba Noodles, 2.) Rafute, and 3.) Okinawa Soba (ie: the broth, and putting it all together).<br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">[Note: my mom and I did this whole process in a day. It would be very easy to make the stock ahead of time, and/or the rafute the day before to break up the process. Or, maybe the first time, you just want to make the noodles and buy store-bought broth. Or skip the rafute altogether! I’ve outlined all the steps below, but it is of course dealer’s choice as to how you want to proceed. Pick and choose if you like. …just don’t come complaining to me if you don’t get the same five-star results. And no matter WHAT, read this blog entry all the way through before you start making </span><span style="font-size:-0;">any</span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">thing, or you will never, </span>ever <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">come to this blog again out of sheer hatred for me when you realize that certain things should’ve been started the night before.]</span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Okinawa Soba (just the noodles)</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">In case you don’t relish the idea of eating soba two months from now because you need to wait for your chopped wood to dry and rid itself of its natural sap, collect ashes from a wood-burning stove or a fireplace (one cup is more than enough).</span><br /><br />Mix wood ash with 2-3 times the amount of water:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUPVRrrrwNxrmenj2fWaVBLE73ayG3ALQnnX_4CDTB34BgS9ueLumfLkXnDyuFmei0WHHg791Fp14v-jH7UU1SX47Voc0agpAh4KMFyFrzuyHsqg62psp_XKihIIeKKAoyplKGsBxPu8Q/s1600-h/treeashmixwater.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449034527883829250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUPVRrrrwNxrmenj2fWaVBLE73ayG3ALQnnX_4CDTB34BgS9ueLumfLkXnDyuFmei0WHHg791Fp14v-jH7UU1SX47Voc0agpAh4KMFyFrzuyHsqg62psp_XKihIIeKKAoyplKGsBxPu8Q/s400/treeashmixwater.jpg" border="0" /></a> Set it overnight. The next day, take the clear top of the liquid:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-MKVh1GWIzuGnaOXlwrVoaO1AnJW_WbF3WljaSSF2owXwK2tcEjbNoEvHTNsqazjPNqkhH42C-OMN-WXzyOAueb-AHkqL5GFg-VB2N_yF8039k4sWHanG_sK6LZyEH_vBvSz5Pr4YlPg/s1600-h/treeashovernight.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449034579370878754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-MKVh1GWIzuGnaOXlwrVoaO1AnJW_WbF3WljaSSF2owXwK2tcEjbNoEvHTNsqazjPNqkhH42C-OMN-WXzyOAueb-AHkqL5GFg-VB2N_yF8039k4sWHanG_sK6LZyEH_vBvSz5Pr4YlPg/s400/treeashovernight.jpg" border="0" /></a>... and strain it through a cotton cloth (cheesecloth works, or even a paper towel or coffee filter will do):<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHzhf4hChknvv2jjlax__8XFAxgM8QCX5TUzoYIYS0bo8E1pXL7nyTRdr-rDpkzsHEBHF0U0-0vESbztX8mpM7LQGTXaZgI3hdJYiZm-PRhOxoz8chYy4u1_OVDF7IKPbPh8P4gqzSC_s/s1600-h/treeashstrained.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449034640234339618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHzhf4hChknvv2jjlax__8XFAxgM8QCX5TUzoYIYS0bo8E1pXL7nyTRdr-rDpkzsHEBHF0U0-0vESbztX8mpM7LQGTXaZgI3hdJYiZm-PRhOxoz8chYy4u1_OVDF7IKPbPh8P4gqzSC_s/s400/treeashstrained.jpg" border="0" /></a> This is your ash water. Reserve 1 cup of ash water, which is all you will need for the noodles.<br /><br />In a separate bowl, mix 3 ¾ cup flour, 2 tsp. of salt, and 1 cup of ash water to make the dough. Knead the dough thoroughly for about 20-30 minutes.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-YrnNs_eNZ3RJnoARp6HvKs7lx8D5dtFcDw38ej-D0TxL6-kvN5V6eA5iaX4s6JoOQ7fRu8aP2Ny2HGzC260O0mBwl1qOZp6gV7TlIVSLm4WqAOrDy4nRgg4JZOIOpLUGPc5hCovikM/s1600-h/kneadingdough.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449033851889865298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim-YrnNs_eNZ3RJnoARp6HvKs7lx8D5dtFcDw38ej-D0TxL6-kvN5V6eA5iaX4s6JoOQ7fRu8aP2Ny2HGzC260O0mBwl1qOZp6gV7TlIVSLm4WqAOrDy4nRgg4JZOIOpLUGPc5hCovikM/s400/kneadingdough.jpg" border="0" /></a>(Really, don’t skimp on this part. Break up the dough into two separate pieces if it’s too big to handle.)<br /><br />Once dough is thoroughly kneaded, separate it into four equal balls, cover it with plastic wrap, and let it rest for about 1 hour at room temperature.<br /><br />For the next part, my mom and I busted out <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/meet-angelina.html">Angie</a>, our KitchenAid Mixer. Roll the four balls flat, and then put the dough through the pasta roller attachment, on the lowest speed, and at the lowest level:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh58Js_s9HTC8osoVEwvknOz5wHBnQT1Dj-WK4L9xR-63RemLdsCvXEWpwWy_a6D9HP7HJxHL1QFrGqMPcG0N_0GXR2lnCEQdmQ6PuZiKAV-OmRAV_w8ZqVeVRrzu-FkTsRFZW62sRA5U/s1600-h/flattened-dough.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449032430013759154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh58Js_s9HTC8osoVEwvknOz5wHBnQT1Dj-WK4L9xR-63RemLdsCvXEWpwWy_a6D9HP7HJxHL1QFrGqMPcG0N_0GXR2lnCEQdmQ6PuZiKAV-OmRAV_w8ZqVeVRrzu-FkTsRFZW62sRA5U/s400/flattened-dough.jpg" border="0" /></a>Once the dough is through the roller, fold it in half, turn the thickness to 2, and run it through once more. Repeat until you are at a thickness of 3.<br /><br />Next, run the dough through the pasta cutter attachment:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4mJdZOagiBkufIfizLFYXUwai0YSw5JfgG-wt6jvUfqljTidVh9_EqgzVm90LNnxpWqXmEOnAA0Ai-SH-48iq28zw2rPzbVUFJ4pZrSdPNF6txB051MFAvCeZTI7ZejjD4pt8H4KLrEs/s1600-h/cuttingdough.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449032366118029362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4mJdZOagiBkufIfizLFYXUwai0YSw5JfgG-wt6jvUfqljTidVh9_EqgzVm90LNnxpWqXmEOnAA0Ai-SH-48iq28zw2rPzbVUFJ4pZrSdPNF6txB051MFAvCeZTI7ZejjD4pt8H4KLrEs/s400/cuttingdough.jpg" border="0" /></a> ...and hang the finished pieces on a pasta rack:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUZouQc9MifNyapm0pYPX_22xhXAawgWB30y6oWf7JFeHzSTfXR6g4S_3BJppjTlULp206bwuezHNaq2PhepwB3WSYjXFm_8YuWBDDblTtT0OguDCL-rQcox-839txfoRAzJdAY0tqmM/s1600-h/noodleshanging.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449033916932218962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 297px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVUZouQc9MifNyapm0pYPX_22xhXAawgWB30y6oWf7JFeHzSTfXR6g4S_3BJppjTlULp206bwuezHNaq2PhepwB3WSYjXFm_8YuWBDDblTtT0OguDCL-rQcox-839txfoRAzJdAY0tqmM/s400/noodleshanging.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">(Don’t have an Angie? Don’t be discouraged. The dough can be made the old-fashioned way, too.</span> <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Roll it out and cut it with a knife instead.</span>)<br /><br />Next, bring water to a boil, and boil the noodles (in separate batches—don’t overload the pot) until cooked.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQTsHcS_hjqw3DIYOifctQao7pNNj8LB9rMr9XqHIA4U1VBUmw_a9PWOiHjshOxeQV09fhZ0EqGfNMkw8ucN_TRo1jFYfMWwBl0JxF08mIkW8Gp-1yOku2wmYD9XjwHG-r7M6C2XlvSk/s1600-h/boilednoodles.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449032196774485698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpQTsHcS_hjqw3DIYOifctQao7pNNj8LB9rMr9XqHIA4U1VBUmw_a9PWOiHjshOxeQV09fhZ0EqGfNMkw8ucN_TRo1jFYfMWwBl0JxF08mIkW8Gp-1yOku2wmYD9XjwHG-r7M6C2XlvSk/s400/boilednoodles.jpg" border="0" /></a>Drain the noodles thoroughly and mix with vegetable oil to prevent sticking.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Note: The noodles are probably the last thing you should make, as you want to roll the dough, hang it, and boil the noodles as close as possible to serving time to ensure freshness. Make sure your broth and rafute are complete first. So why did I share this part with you first? Your ash has to set overnight. Do that, then set the rest aside.</span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Rafute (aka: pork belly, aka: the bomb)</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Recipe adapted from the blog, <a href="http://www.threetastes.com/blog/blog_files/rafute.php">Three Tastes</a>.</span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Not everyone has a bottle of Okinawan Awamori handy to braise pork belly. Whiskey or sake will also work well (our particular bottle of Awamori reminded us of Jack Daniels). </span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">As for the pork belly, go to your Asian butcher and ask for 3 lbs. of not-too-lean pork belly</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXHTnIBCyBwqoGJLe46TiG02aRZn66dFYGQmRphwsxDTfcJM6tNQCiz7vZ5WUEqF3mgyZUUwyTXbRL2kzRVb-Ib9QTSDhPBIc9MUqd-S8piF-BtdK-NmWP76hX6GCHxQqBf3dtChURu_M/s1600-h/porkbellyraw.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449034272171999234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXHTnIBCyBwqoGJLe46TiG02aRZn66dFYGQmRphwsxDTfcJM6tNQCiz7vZ5WUEqF3mgyZUUwyTXbRL2kzRVb-Ib9QTSDhPBIc9MUqd-S8piF-BtdK-NmWP76hX6GCHxQqBf3dtChURu_M/s400/porkbellyraw.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Make sure your butcher doesn’t take off the top layer of fat.</span> <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">(Isn</span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">’</span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">t that picture absolutely magnificent?)</span><br /><br />Place whole pieces of pork belly, and ¼ cup of sliced ginger into a heavy-bottomed pan. Add ¼ cup of awamori (or whiskey or sake), then cover the meat with water.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikjLOusmf4V3HgMNPfsFucTfu1Uwb3FJoCl44_4x5TqULL0D72V77SeAJgJpIGMmi4KDUHaoMeEPAljvTdykRPVgTB86rG8sRmynGar2yRSj-o2DeJU26SJyMGX_9YibHBwe9gcrZfQlc/s1600-h/porkbellyboil.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449034088735942402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikjLOusmf4V3HgMNPfsFucTfu1Uwb3FJoCl44_4x5TqULL0D72V77SeAJgJpIGMmi4KDUHaoMeEPAljvTdykRPVgTB86rG8sRmynGar2yRSj-o2DeJU26SJyMGX_9YibHBwe9gcrZfQlc/s400/porkbellyboil.jpg" border="0" /></a> Over medium heat, bring the liquid <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">just </span>to a boil, then cover and immediately reduce it to a simmer. Simmer for 1 hour, making sure to top off the pork belly with hot water to keep the meat covered.<br /><br />Remove the pork from the liquid (<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">awwww... what did we do? It’s not nearly as pretty anymore</span>):<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZg-YtB6PehuhCHvx857OrGn8doDL3Yl561lhB6IGcmLeMOB3ByLlijbVXGJsalxOT1mRoYJeXCsdx1F_n99yymhZQ0eWbJDheZ3mJV6f2hBfxm9QRQWRuZQjkRcyhUwvXuwULTjfzwM/s1600-h/boiledporkbelly.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449032266351288402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHZg-YtB6PehuhCHvx857OrGn8doDL3Yl561lhB6IGcmLeMOB3ByLlijbVXGJsalxOT1mRoYJeXCsdx1F_n99yymhZQ0eWbJDheZ3mJV6f2hBfxm9QRQWRuZQjkRcyhUwvXuwULTjfzwM/s400/boiledporkbelly.jpg" border="0" /></a> Reserve the liquid (chill it, and remove the layer of lard on the surface).<br /><br />When the pork is cool enough, slice it 2 ½ inches across, and about ½ inch thick:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Q0OCLlOssPYOEmICApbwdQqCR2A1ice9HWgLdnDFTLG35thZhEuG6g-OEesLSt75-Hhk3kjQJDEZIXMEtdSh4yhzYw2WPJvCApVvqcQF9CbwUpJssuTwHSMHn6yrKmXDGeojLFswBvE/s1600-h/slicingporkbelly.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449034407215829250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Q0OCLlOssPYOEmICApbwdQqCR2A1ice9HWgLdnDFTLG35thZhEuG6g-OEesLSt75-Hhk3kjQJDEZIXMEtdSh4yhzYw2WPJvCApVvqcQF9CbwUpJssuTwHSMHn6yrKmXDGeojLFswBvE/s400/slicingporkbelly.jpg" border="0" /></a>Next, combine 1 cup of the reserved broth from the boiling stage (the liquid you just removed the lard from), 1 cup of awamori (or whiskey or sake), ¾ cup raw sugar, and a slice of ginger into a heavy-bottomed pan. Bring to a boil over high-heat. Reduce the heat to medium, and then add the sliced pork belly:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUuqFu8W_NDHz7IAgGr3krdF4OjP7xlDwJqU3cDWn_sgefZYhmMxp3zmtHpR8qXhG-QS3EOZXWHV49MdYsxWEqyZMaf8TXTL-jaOim9yAMNe4nB981-Lw4z_fcZZaDPLwiVG3QB5hCKSE/s1600-h/braisingporkbelly.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449032314859768162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUuqFu8W_NDHz7IAgGr3krdF4OjP7xlDwJqU3cDWn_sgefZYhmMxp3zmtHpR8qXhG-QS3EOZXWHV49MdYsxWEqyZMaf8TXTL-jaOim9yAMNe4nB981-Lw4z_fcZZaDPLwiVG3QB5hCKSE/s400/braisingporkbelly.jpg" border="0" /></a>When the heat begins to bubble, reduce it to a simmer, cover, and cook for about 25 minutes.<br /><br />Turn the slices over, cover again, and simmer for another 20 minutes.<br /><br />Add ¼ cup of soy sauce and stir to combine with the rest of the braising liquid. Cook for 15 minutes at the lowest simmer with no cover so that the liquid starts to evaporate. Turn the slices over again and continue cooking without a cover for another 15 minutes or so:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYrYh1gn2-VKfD8DB4HU9pGuB4pbyuE83h4Z9AN8AALaAQqvmTxA3CmOvS0X8je8sR2sgc6Xz2Hp1LgLpOv6y2Sra5Z7_jVMoipcICOIcVk9KivHgjaR95sBQpYhlY8GkrFWRXCGwrHrI/s1600-h/porkbellybraising1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449034136575045762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYrYh1gn2-VKfD8DB4HU9pGuB4pbyuE83h4Z9AN8AALaAQqvmTxA3CmOvS0X8je8sR2sgc6Xz2Hp1LgLpOv6y2Sra5Z7_jVMoipcICOIcVk9KivHgjaR95sBQpYhlY8GkrFWRXCGwrHrI/s400/porkbellybraising1.jpg" border="0" /></a>Keep cooking, you’re not done. You want more of that liquid to evaporate so that the pork belly glazes and looks sticky. It’s imperative you get to the sticky stage, because the pork tastes <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">sooooo</span> much better:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggAUhXmIpQZ4yXXEbwuTR-H3QCUdyEnST9IuPcV8CObWJtl7GK6YXxIqkvdsZ6KApIJLPBlbOoMNlp5ZyiCzC2Vri0OuMXrN9XHVIGGGRUoxYM6XjXvX63s4tTtqeD9wo0iKPMjRxOC4U/s1600-h/porkbellyfinished.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449034214620872402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggAUhXmIpQZ4yXXEbwuTR-H3QCUdyEnST9IuPcV8CObWJtl7GK6YXxIqkvdsZ6KApIJLPBlbOoMNlp5ZyiCzC2Vri0OuMXrN9XHVIGGGRUoxYM6XjXvX63s4tTtqeD9wo0iKPMjRxOC4U/s400/porkbellyfinished.jpg" border="0" /></a>When you’re finished, the pork belly is ready to be added to your soup....That is ...if only you had soup. <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Why did I go out of order again? Because the rafute keeps well in the fridge for over a week and will last months in the freezer. Make it ahead of time. When you are ready to use it, re-heat it on an oiled skillet over medium heat.</span> <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Or throw it in the oven. That works, too.</span><br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Okinawa Soba (aka: the broth, and putting it all together)</span><br />Once again, go to your friendly neighborhood Asian butcher and ask for about 3 lbs. of pork bones (we used neck bones, but you can use rib or hip bones), broken into large pieces.<br /><br />Wash bones in boiling water until they are clean. Add water to cover the pork bones in a large pot and boil.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUReGnf1U312LNwUgaZpsKBO09WpH4nMg8o3Nro8YMqJ-bUNh4v_Nz48-B8sOaQMNGIk4JKcrwf28xdAPpQDpdbnGbJXLxnn8t3x88N8d5Y3UsA8OjRLOx_9T42jzSM_qOXfNkPuMduDk/s1600-h/porkbones.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449034325469133906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUReGnf1U312LNwUgaZpsKBO09WpH4nMg8o3Nro8YMqJ-bUNh4v_Nz48-B8sOaQMNGIk4JKcrwf28xdAPpQDpdbnGbJXLxnn8t3x88N8d5Y3UsA8OjRLOx_9T42jzSM_qOXfNkPuMduDk/s400/porkbones.jpg" border="0" /></a>Remove pork and rinse it. Discard water in pot, and boil a new pot of water for the stove:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWIVSBiN30ap-DaDcwhdqqaraoT3Vh5Wg50fi56kYvkhgs5Z_tJi8aEVK6N7hlJWhWOwczf4xfA612CiI_peXS19J3-ZH7Yz5JjUG10VyKJqjjGk7UcCqWEX1vHQJ93FHg-66J7F4e4bk/s1600-h/boiledbones.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449032150028119618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWIVSBiN30ap-DaDcwhdqqaraoT3Vh5Wg50fi56kYvkhgs5Z_tJi8aEVK6N7hlJWhWOwczf4xfA612CiI_peXS19J3-ZH7Yz5JjUG10VyKJqjjGk7UcCqWEX1vHQJ93FHg-66J7F4e4bk/s400/boiledbones.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyypfnC3Vgit-roybklKtweSzu8TS04HCx4geHOWElwgYrKdYU48IqOJqlxsT9UjQNU2Pd-gGw41W5jRZyceCKiQ-m8YzcSyFYMWZl967V-wLuDea5XQmDAWL95Qo73ggMYGvMpb-OGjQ/s1600-h/betterbones.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449040256529746002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyypfnC3Vgit-roybklKtweSzu8TS04HCx4geHOWElwgYrKdYU48IqOJqlxsT9UjQNU2Pd-gGw41W5jRZyceCKiQ-m8YzcSyFYMWZl967V-wLuDea5XQmDAWL95Qo73ggMYGvMpb-OGjQ/s400/betterbones.jpg" border="0" /></a>Add pork to boiling water, then reduce heat to a slow simmer for 2 to 3 hours. After simmering for about 1 ½ hours, add about ½ cup of (<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">optional</span>) dried bonito flakes (you can wrap them in a cloth), or, if you don’t have a cloth, you can always strain the flakes out later.<br /><br />Once the broth has reduced, filter the stock through a cloth into a separate pot and continue simmering. Add salt, or soy sauce to taste, depending on your preference. At this point, you should have a nicely flavored broth. If you’re disappointed with the results, keep in mind the flavor will be taken up considerably when you add the noodles, rafute, ginger, steamed fish cake (kamaboko: found at any Asian specialty store), shiitake mushrooms, and scallions:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaDxmSdXazUYcN7XBkk05XHjjDkvbPgl0bXt_jImBrKvLmExS4d9gPnkC5IGP1pJOYsUH0YlO6fyo2g-GO6yxLDORJMICj-JOH7V3FAxi_oKA8Yusp_-A0waAgU6ddzTMN-96yGY0U8oM/s1600-h/garnishes.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449037563457390370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 270px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaDxmSdXazUYcN7XBkk05XHjjDkvbPgl0bXt_jImBrKvLmExS4d9gPnkC5IGP1pJOYsUH0YlO6fyo2g-GO6yxLDORJMICj-JOH7V3FAxi_oKA8Yusp_-A0waAgU6ddzTMN-96yGY0U8oM/s400/garnishes.jpg" border="0" /></a>Assembly steps: Place the ash noodles in a bowl, and cover with the soup stock you just made. Garnish with a slice of rafute, fish cake, scallions, mushrooms, and sliced red pickled ginger. Add a dash of soy sauce, and serve hot.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04XAu2l-UEpV2AMownxn-pLgVd-FkhpUoZD0ESYf3ARrIMA366nIdzW_RuASBV5sMsEh0EQnAxa-S4gNZkXyAE7s_woLR1w0G68uTzd_jL5YJuxKhSngX0yORv9eF_pnFK4nne5z_Ids/s1600-h/Okinawasobaend.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449033973841397410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg04XAu2l-UEpV2AMownxn-pLgVd-FkhpUoZD0ESYf3ARrIMA366nIdzW_RuASBV5sMsEh0EQnAxa-S4gNZkXyAE7s_woLR1w0G68uTzd_jL5YJuxKhSngX0yORv9eF_pnFK4nne5z_Ids/s400/Okinawasobaend.jpg" border="0" /></a>Enjoy!<br /><br />You sure as heck deserved it.<br /><br />(My mom made me change the last part to “heck.”)<br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Special thanks to: mom (of course</span>—<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">where would I be without her?</span><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">); Grandma (who did a test run with my mom before I got involved); Eddie, who introduced us to the real-deal Okinawa soba that magical afternoon; and Kishimoto Soba for making us all believers.</span>Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-70720389542014630202010-02-22T19:13:00.010-05:002010-02-23T00:47:59.946-05:00What’s Cooking Over at The Good Life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrpYiN5jRv2vFKhvVgbHaUfKgWZKziIgiGowdzuyqckRC9ptFlaUPWKxHPa7jgDQhUv-NvMcLpni8lxpPBFlyILe7QZjTl9uYQjSrTh-mwhyphenhyphenpTBLMTj23gZY1gZD77QgG_kux0awhpZ_A/s1600-h/IMG_0893.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 259px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrpYiN5jRv2vFKhvVgbHaUfKgWZKziIgiGowdzuyqckRC9ptFlaUPWKxHPa7jgDQhUv-NvMcLpni8lxpPBFlyILe7QZjTl9uYQjSrTh-mwhyphenhyphenpTBLMTj23gZY1gZD77QgG_kux0awhpZ_A/s400/IMG_0893.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441225680196794914" border="0" /></a>It’s been busy at my day job, which means not a lot of time to dine out. Or cook for that matter. But stay tuned:<br /><br />With <a href="http://www.hudsonvalleyrestaurantweek.com/restaurants.php">Hudson Valley Restaurant Week</a> (March 15-28th) fast approaching, there are some write-ups in the pipeline: I’m booked at <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/x20-xaviars-on-hudson-sorry-peter-kelly.html">X20 Xaviars on the Hudson</a> in Yonkers, <a href="http://www.lapanetiere.com/">La Panetiere</a> in Rye, and <a href="http://www.harvest2000.com/">Harvest on Hudson</a> in Hastings on Hudson.<br /><br />I’m also doing my best to finish an entry on <a href="http://www.elevenmadisonpark.com/">Eleven Madison Park</a>, which Eileen and I visited back in December—the entry got away from me with all the intricate little courses that dotted the meal… and the alcohol that was consumed. But I’ll pull something together—the dinner was certainly an experience worth writing about.<br /><br />In cooking news, my mom, grandma and I have been experimenting with soba—we’re trying to create the authentic Okinawan variety of the noodle (there is a secret ingredient that takes the dish up a notch). When we get there, we’ll share the recipe so you can make your own and knock your friends on their behinds.<br /><br />Finally, I’ve created a fan page for this here blog on Facebook! <a href="http://www.blogger.com/%28http://www.facebook.com/TheGoodLifeBlog">Click here</a> for the link and to become a fan. Thanks so much to all who have already joined. At last count, I was up to 54, which is 52 more fans than I anticipated (I only accounted for me and my mom). Feel free to leave comments or post questions to other foodie fans when you’re in need of restaurant suggestions.<br /><br />I leave you with an easy-peasy Lemon Chicken recipe (<span style="font-style: italic;">pictured above</span>). It’s mind-bogglingly simple, with only a handful of ingredients, but it’s a good one nonetheless; the coating of the chicken has a moist, spongy consistency that melts in your mouth. Give it a try if you’re looking for quick, mid-week comfort food. (I’d place it up there with my <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/sharons-anchovy-pasta.html">anchovy pasta</a>). It’s also the dish I’m planning to make for m’boy Todd on Wednesday night.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Lemon Chicken</span><br />Sprinkle salt and pepper on 1 ½ pounds thinly sliced chicken breasts (or chicken pounded flat so that the scallops are roughly ¼ inch thick). Dust the scallops with flour, and shake off the excess.<br /><br />Melt roughly 2 tablespoons of butter and 2 tablespoons olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. (Throw in some thinly-sliced cloves of garlic at this point if you like garlic – I can’t get enough of garlic. I should call this recipe “Lemon Garlic Chicken.”) Add the chicken, and cook for about 2 minutes, or until they’re golden brown. Remove the chicken and set aside.<br /><br />Pour off any of the fat that’s accumulated in the skillet, and add about ½ cup of chicken stock. Scrape up all the nice brown bits at the bottom of the skillet, and then place the chicken back in the skillet. Add thinly sliced lemon slices on top of the chicken (<span style="font-style: italic;">you don't have to slice your lemons so that they look like stop signs like in my picture above</span>). Reduce the heat to low, and simmer for about 15 minutes. Serve your chicken with brown rice, some mushrooms and asparagus. Enjoy!Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-12323037720603875772010-02-10T12:43:00.025-05:002010-02-12T11:19:47.943-05:00Blue Smoke: Not a Fan<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVP3U3-OfW7r5H-liJz1ZGCQNMB4k597dl5zC0K3ISbRJ0DKjTV1gPqLsrY-2H-c-bGfi50XOqNSVwCyac2j0mSFzL72iELkKjGr1X7fo5FjakiptYQDgVtHwOKkBiucB4xBoAvoNkNHw/s1600-h/bluesmoke.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436671994188475810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 322px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 346px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVP3U3-OfW7r5H-liJz1ZGCQNMB4k597dl5zC0K3ISbRJ0DKjTV1gPqLsrY-2H-c-bGfi50XOqNSVwCyac2j0mSFzL72iELkKjGr1X7fo5FjakiptYQDgVtHwOKkBiucB4xBoAvoNkNHw/s400/bluesmoke.jpg" border="0" /></a>My evening at Blue Smoke started interestingly enough. I was photographing the outside of the restaurant and jazz club, when a gentleman tapped me on the shoulder.<br /><br />“Miss,” he asked. “Can you tell me what’s so interesting about the outside of this restaurant?”<br /><br />My dad, as any proud papa would, jumped in immediately and shouted, “My daughter is a <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic">food blogger</span>!”<br /><br />The gentleman, not a tourist at all, but a very important fellow behind the Blue Smoke empire, considered this, took a business card out of his pocket, and told me to give it to the host, who was now following this exchange curiously from the other side of the window. “He’ll take care of you,” the gentleman promised.<br /><br />A very nice gesture, but, as I insisted to the pleading faces of my dining companions that evening (Dad, my brother Bill, Lori and Todd), to give that card to the host would be committing the cardinal sin of food blogging: using your “power” (I use that word loosely given the 40 or so visits I get on my blog each day) to receive special treatment once inside a restaurant. No—to play that card would compromise the integrity of our dinner.<br /><br />This, while sound logic, did not sit well with said dining companions, who wanted the free shiznit.<br /><br />“<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Do</span> it,” my brother whispered to me more than once, as we waited for our table. It was 7:45 p.m. Our dinner reservation was for 8:00 p.m. I felt the crisp edges of the business card in my pocket, and hunger pangs in my belly.<br /><br />At 8:25 we were seated, and to Blue Smoke’s credit, we were told to choose any appetizer off the menu as an apology for our wait.<br /><br />The plan for the evening was to take advantage of <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2010/01/nyc-restaurant-week-winter-2010.html">New York City Restaurant Week: Winter 2010</a>, and enjoy a 3-course dinner for $35.00. But this didn’t happen. The choices just didn’t seem like a $35 value. For instance, one of the entrees was the Kansas City Spareribs. On the regular, non-NYC Restaurant Week menu, a half-rack ran $14.95. We did the math, and it didn’t seem plausible for the Restaurant Week appetizers (I remember one being a braised veal cheek), and the dessert (one was a chocolate silk pie) to add up to the remaining $20 you would need to total $35.<br /><br />So, while all five of us strongly considered the Restaurant Week menu (it was the impetus for our visit); all five of us ultimately decided against it, and went with the regular menu, which seemed like a better value.<br /><br />First, let’s take a look at a highlight of the evening. Here’s the complimentary <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Crispy Chili Crusted Calamari with Charred Red Pepper Mayo</span> (<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">$12.95</span>):<br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">[First, my apologies for the bad photography to follow. I put a candle next to most of our dishes, hoping for some added light, but all it really did was eff with the white balance to make my shoddy photography harder to fix in Photoshop later.]</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkc6RRpckcuec7Cc4qchbU0o_dxoIfdj56gDFqb9J84XkDPSkqXnlNseo6BAj6GsuaR8iCfpah99uTLvXOJEqZV6IW1ZniooQuy-N-UgrITOMGx8KBrZ8xoDLo75VG1JZun_Fep_t547k/s1600-h/calamari.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436672051801603986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkc6RRpckcuec7Cc4qchbU0o_dxoIfdj56gDFqb9J84XkDPSkqXnlNseo6BAj6GsuaR8iCfpah99uTLvXOJEqZV6IW1ZniooQuy-N-UgrITOMGx8KBrZ8xoDLo75VG1JZun_Fep_t547k/s400/calamari.jpg" border="0" /></a> I don’t know if it’s because everyone at our table was starving at this point, but this dish went over quite well. The calamari were well-cooked, not greasy or rubbery; there were deep-fried lemons in there that added a welcome zing, and the mayo had a delicious kick. A promising start.<br /><br />Before we get to our orders, I’ll mention the service at Blue Smoke. I was very surprised at the lack of personality. Blue Smoke is one of famed restauranteur’s Danny Meyer’s restaurants. And Danny Meyer is all about hospitality—he’s written books about this philosophy, and his empire has been built around it. Heck, <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/shake-shack-now-i-get-it.html">the lady who took my order for a ShackBurger at Shake Shack </a>actually made me feel <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">good </span>about waiting almost two hours for a burger. At Blue Smoke, however, I don’t remember anything about our waiter other than he kept telling us to lift up our menus in order to set stuff down. And that he made himself scarce for the rest of the evening.<br /><br />Onto our dinners.<br /><br />For the most part, we didn’t like them.<br /><br />Unless your name is Todd. We’ll address another highlight for the evening, his meal, the <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Filet Mignon with Chipotle Bernaise Sauce, Mushrooms, Leeks, and a crispy goat cheese potato cake</span> (<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">$34.95</span>):<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbT-YIhZz2g5BGeq3kTGCpvqzvcbtk-QJbtjoj3uvufNgz4pq888owjETi4rrTXy_pNmBHKzMf2QuheUDKQs3gYm-SBUHh4PUySstUxO0Vnzy3cKbd-7rHc48dbaEDU2n8dwkpREhY4Ys/s1600-h/filet.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436672103226117010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 380px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 253px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbT-YIhZz2g5BGeq3kTGCpvqzvcbtk-QJbtjoj3uvufNgz4pq888owjETi4rrTXy_pNmBHKzMf2QuheUDKQs3gYm-SBUHh4PUySstUxO0Vnzy3cKbd-7rHc48dbaEDU2n8dwkpREhY4Ys/s400/filet.jpg" border="0" /></a>Todd’s not a dessert person, and he had already had his share of calamari, so he figured why not use his $35 Restaurant Week budget on something he really wanted. Enter the Filet. My problem with this logic (at the time) was that we were at a rib joint. I was worried he might be setting himself up for mediocrity.<br /><br />But turns out, Todd’s filet was just about the only thing that was smokin’ at the rib joint that night. The filet was tender and juicy, with a nice seared finish, the mushrooms tasted as if they were sautéed in the drippings from the filet, and the potato cake? <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Suh-weeeeeeet</span>. Pile all three elements together, with a dollop of tangy and buttery Chipotle Bernaise, and you have a darn near perfect bite. Better than <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/09/mortons-steakhouse.html">Morton’s</a> (although that’s easy), better than <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/blt-steak-power-dinner.html">BLT Steak</a>.<br /><br />Here’s a picture of Bill with his <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Pulled Pork Platter with Pit Beans and Sesame Slaw </span>(<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">$18.50</span>):<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfWP2RbnTjAo5AO9b-qfTt9ZfiE7iiDeP2o-XXodi1y7pO3EPV7vzn8RX9S6OFveGk_ztUEADIC3JITqqKOu284jk5Z3M-AVaq-COQ27vVfAxR0y0hLaYXZ66QJ5Bew-b0J9AIJGVQyBk/s1600-h/pulledpork.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436672318592979250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfWP2RbnTjAo5AO9b-qfTt9ZfiE7iiDeP2o-XXodi1y7pO3EPV7vzn8RX9S6OFveGk_ztUEADIC3JITqqKOu284jk5Z3M-AVaq-COQ27vVfAxR0y0hLaYXZ66QJ5Bew-b0J9AIJGVQyBk/s400/pulledpork.jpg" border="0" /></a>Not only does this picture illustrate the effect of three Chimays, it also provides a useful scale to fully appreciate just how much pulled pork was on Bill’s plate. It was a silly amount.<br /><br />Bill took a couple of bites and deemed the pork “ok.” I agreed. It was a little dry, but not off-putting—it just wasn’t something I would want to eat a lot of. The beans were nothing special, but the Sesame Slaw was incredible. Different and refreshing—had a bit of an Asian twist. I think there might’ve been some rice wine vinegar in there as well as sesame oil, which gave it a clean finish.<br /><br />Here’s a picture of the half-rack of <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Kansas City Spareribs</span> ($14.95).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ55h3LrkNKsywa7GSP7kB3wFI8aEB6vbSrMdRwYEtVRZr7Uua_LXF2oMP09yZI9eWdidx22bL0XLC2eM5sakjPXoBf1cS066kFkSJ3jrCZVtxTGhMk3EsVM3CuQGSyZRAOp0GTevosYg/s1600-h/kansasribs.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436672211016600034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 380px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 253px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ55h3LrkNKsywa7GSP7kB3wFI8aEB6vbSrMdRwYEtVRZr7Uua_LXF2oMP09yZI9eWdidx22bL0XLC2eM5sakjPXoBf1cS066kFkSJ3jrCZVtxTGhMk3EsVM3CuQGSyZRAOp0GTevosYg/s400/kansasribs.jpg" border="0" /></a>They’re described on the menu as “big, juicy, spicy and sweet,” but the juiciness translated to greasiness at our table. No one liked them! Surprising, after all I’ve read about them, and the restaurant’s reputation. I’ll stick with <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/why-route-22-rocks.html">Warren’s ribs</a>, thank you very much.<br /><br />We also ordered side dishes, since nothing came with the ribs (another reason we weren’t feeling the Restaurant Week menu): <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Macaroni and Cheese</span> <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">($7.95</span>), <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Hush Puppies with Jalapeno Marmalade</span> <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">($3.95</span>), and <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Cornbread </span>(<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">$3.50</span>):<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0XFEQgFE0s7ulJHuDMlt_VGimr_t-KX5eBhUIMOyVrvgmZtTYot_jCwtZHJ7NkrCiRhEYN7PMLku7-_HdFYe0GqapUM3YDRQo3V6CVqW1TSfC13IX4twKPsGPTzwi7UwM6gZvwbXIek/s1600-h/macandcheese.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436672268443710658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 380px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 253px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU0XFEQgFE0s7ulJHuDMlt_VGimr_t-KX5eBhUIMOyVrvgmZtTYot_jCwtZHJ7NkrCiRhEYN7PMLku7-_HdFYe0GqapUM3YDRQo3V6CVqW1TSfC13IX4twKPsGPTzwi7UwM6gZvwbXIek/s400/macandcheese.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjacUaJBIemuRnGpz6yR04svQzs1ydOY3XlxbhOcU-3lDcmQXSPhN_glwWwkB_cK-u7Bho9yZE4Ge9XERk5B6jK8-E4A4Z43mGWrzF31h_ll2KOy1kH00mx1UQu3i9sN3746dEuFhD064c/s1600-h/hushpuppies.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436672155789903410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 380px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 275px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjacUaJBIemuRnGpz6yR04svQzs1ydOY3XlxbhOcU-3lDcmQXSPhN_glwWwkB_cK-u7Bho9yZE4Ge9XERk5B6jK8-E4A4Z43mGWrzF31h_ll2KOy1kH00mx1UQu3i9sN3746dEuFhD064c/s400/hushpuppies.jpg" border="0" /></a>The mac and cheese was totally lackluster. And this is coming from a gal who <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">loves </span>mac and cheese. It reminded me of Velveeta’s, although I like Velveeta’s—so this was like <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">bad </span>Velveeta’s mac and cheese.<br /><br />I’ve never had Hush Puppies before (I believe it’s a cornmeal-based fried bread), so it’s hard to judge, but it tasted a bit like fried grits. The jalapeno marmalade was too sweet for me, as well.<br /><br />The cornbread was a travesty. It tasted like eating a stick of fried, greasy butter. I couldn’t even taste the corn. Even though there were only two pieces for our table of five, there was a whole piece left when our check came.<br /><br />Bottom line: I’d be willing to write off Blue Smoke completely, if I didn’t enjoy stealing “perfect bites” from Todd’s plate so much. It was a terrific filet. Still, I doubt we’ll be back with so many stellar restaurants in the city.<br /><br />Blue Smoke dining companions: you were cracking me up all night with your assessment of our dinner. What am I missing? Leave your own point of view below!<br /><br />And Happy Birthday, Paw!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.bluesmoke.com/"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Blue Smoke</span></a><br /><span class="street-address">116 E 27th St</span><br /><span class="locality">New York</span>, <span class="region">NY</span> <span class="postal-code">10016</span><br /><span class="tel" id="bizPhone">(212) 447-7733</span>Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-45497122331557768232010-02-01T18:35:00.021-05:002010-02-01T22:17:27.435-05:00Dovetail: NYC Restaurant Week 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBsjl0LYlSniMU0F0WEOLjbStciFhL76VQ00La5De8V9KscQ1NZhlyrTzf2DTaP7vfb34iStbrD_jih_tuly67I6Gr8rXmTFD9ideYFNJhXhEg12EwY6dWEQiiG8F6MBX_2aM2FcCi0U/s1600-h/Dovetail.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBsjl0LYlSniMU0F0WEOLjbStciFhL76VQ00La5De8V9KscQ1NZhlyrTzf2DTaP7vfb34iStbrD_jih_tuly67I6Gr8rXmTFD9ideYFNJhXhEg12EwY6dWEQiiG8F6MBX_2aM2FcCi0U/s400/Dovetail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433423953343770610" border="0" /></a>Are you enjoying <a href="http://www.nycgo.com/restaurantweek">NYC Restaurant Week: Winter 2010</a>? My budget and time constraints only allowed for two restaurants this season, so I wanted to make both picks count. Up this past Friday was Dovetail, made famous by <a href="http://events.nytimes.com/2008/02/20/dining/reviews/20rest.html">Frank Bruni</a> and <a href="http://nymag.com/restaurants/reviews/43561/">Adam Platt’s</a> solid reviews, and a few articles that showcased the restaurant’s <a href="http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1870492,00.html">use of bacon in dessert</a> as part of the newest culinary trend.<br /><br />What did I learn about Dovetail on Friday? A.) that joint is <span style="font-style: italic;">far</span>. I picked a restaurant where I actually had to <span style="font-style: italic;">exit </span>Grand Central Station and walk to Bryant Park on one of the coldest night of the year in order to catch the right subway line (the B). B.) The ride and walk ended up being well worth it. Even though I couldn’t feel my nose or ears by the time I arrived, I knew almost immediately that Dovetail was the right choice. Because… C.) ….Chef John Fraser clearly <span style="font-style: italic;">loves</span> Restaurant Week! <span style="font-style: italic;">Amuses</span> and free stuff were flying left and right! I told Eileen, my dinner companion for the night, that the creativity-level of the food—along with the sheer <span style="font-style: italic;">amount </span>of it—reminded me of the dishes we sampled at <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/anthos-saves-nyc-restaurant-week.html">Anthos</a> last year (minus the crappy service we got at Anthos).<br /><br />Dovetail the restaurant is quite comfortable. It’s a small space, yet there is ample room between tables to make it feel private and relaxing. The colors exude warmth, with browns and brick, and the vibe is a tad more formal and classy than I expected. Servers were especially going for the formal vibe, yet never came across as inaccessibly stuffy or weird.<br /><br />But let’s get to the free stuff.<br /><br />Shortly after we placed our orders, we received the following:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWrYi5hl4y9OmmEp6sbvMpxhOLJaeIk4KXa9liQOmDtpI0Yu7i-RCTR0DyhE3ZmBta9IqSZz1JZBUsHQ3heCmAEbBOJph47-QTIRg6aG0mMtpwbhmTe6j6kpuHNmf9h55nxS0_QEcq3o0/s1600-h/amuse.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWrYi5hl4y9OmmEp6sbvMpxhOLJaeIk4KXa9liQOmDtpI0Yu7i-RCTR0DyhE3ZmBta9IqSZz1JZBUsHQ3heCmAEbBOJph47-QTIRg6aG0mMtpwbhmTe6j6kpuHNmf9h55nxS0_QEcq3o0/s400/amuse.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433423784401000402" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTZ8_r7ovdwPv9VUBeHlW4H5x8CVyeBSE-bnS59xvfvvII_9hyphenhyphenP1FfAqR-NFny_xSQlJ5HPqSWyLvABY6D09UrHxc9oTmWbZpel5S7Oaw0pIMRZUv0GkeSncdHyzCnA08sPzSEY8dO3U/s1600-h/cornbread.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 386px; height: 260px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOTZ8_r7ovdwPv9VUBeHlW4H5x8CVyeBSE-bnS59xvfvvII_9hyphenhyphenP1FfAqR-NFny_xSQlJ5HPqSWyLvABY6D09UrHxc9oTmWbZpel5S7Oaw0pIMRZUv0GkeSncdHyzCnA08sPzSEY8dO3U/s400/cornbread.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433423913329957122" border="0" /></a>Our<span style="font-style: italic;"> amuse bouche</span> was a stunner: pureed beets, sour cream, and salmon tartare. The taste was nice enough (I’m not a huge fan of beets), and certainly classy, but I much preferred the white cheddar cornbread that was also left on our table: sweet and moist, with a slightly firm outer shell. One of the best pieces of bread ever sampled.<br /><br />For starters, Eileen chose the <span style="font-weight: bold;">cauliflower soup</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfIYJZPb9KSdFiauqvt5IQ562Y5duXD5d0UmVFj3HmAZy9wIjh6PNfrvIqC1QrIpduNPOFDT55IeHXFEK_WGo9Ou0mECzVXsA4y7epxqr-YBshbX8YTJOb1y_u4iSI04h4eYNwUvP7aUs/s1600-h/soup.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfIYJZPb9KSdFiauqvt5IQ562Y5duXD5d0UmVFj3HmAZy9wIjh6PNfrvIqC1QrIpduNPOFDT55IeHXFEK_WGo9Ou0mECzVXsA4y7epxqr-YBshbX8YTJOb1y_u4iSI04h4eYNwUvP7aUs/s400/soup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433424193902151074" border="0" /></a> The server added some extra elements tableside: bacon, apples, walnuts and brown butter that, when swirled, reminded us of Quaker Oatmeal’s Maple Brown Sugar Instant Variety. I stole a spoonful, and while the consistency looked watery, it totally worked, as did the flavor: rich, and super-fresh. Like Grade-A roasted cauliflowers in pureed form.<br /><br />I was looking to shake things up this Restaurant Week and try something new, so I ordered the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Rabbit Mille Fuille</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfep5exQfR_NrTfFSK8Msj9LO4tD6WD5HtXqQdavJJrx4uRIzNU1NXL8lQ3tlV12D0d3JMeEykhqWK4m_tqnd_abz9w80j0jmN8bBMnhHsWaTdv2MaXbZEQgleWy3pfsPTQWkUsZXxFxI/s1600-h/rabbit.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfep5exQfR_NrTfFSK8Msj9LO4tD6WD5HtXqQdavJJrx4uRIzNU1NXL8lQ3tlV12D0d3JMeEykhqWK4m_tqnd_abz9w80j0jmN8bBMnhHsWaTdv2MaXbZEQgleWy3pfsPTQWkUsZXxFxI/s400/rabbit.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433424148802400178" border="0" /></a>I had no idea what a mille fuille (pronounced “mill fwee”) was, but when my plate arrived, I deduced it had something to do with stacked layers of phyllo dough. In between the layers was the rabbit (in terrine form) and a frisee salad including pears and turnips. There was a super-pleasant creamy sauce underneath it all. Altogether it was refreshing, and well-balanced. A good start.<br /><br />Next, Eileen and I ordered the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Hanger Steak</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq0lQdm8USAWXZEhCNAVCBXF93-qcDwg3_24LS3ZFLFUDwg65iG3qI_QIXHyJVWiYMP99bOUskhily2bId7LVJS0zQdneGuUNzjl_tz65fwzeVQeH6iG7itGs_yXIjmKOnKnIrINOK2nY/s1600-h/hangarsteak.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq0lQdm8USAWXZEhCNAVCBXF93-qcDwg3_24LS3ZFLFUDwg65iG3qI_QIXHyJVWiYMP99bOUskhily2bId7LVJS0zQdneGuUNzjl_tz65fwzeVQeH6iG7itGs_yXIjmKOnKnIrINOK2nY/s400/hangarsteak.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433424048178237858" border="0" /></a>The portion might look small in the photo, but it was a nice-sized serving and a great progression to our appetizers. The steak was cooked well, but it seemed either over-salted, or lacking something sweet to balance the overall dish. Still, Eileen and I both came away thinking the dish was a success, mostly due to the hen of the woods mushrooms, and an absolutely fabulous mini beef cheek lasagna (the lasagna is hidden behind the steak in the photo).<br /><br />For dessert, Eileen ordered something chocolatey (per usual), the <span style="font-weight: bold;">Black Forest Gateau</span>:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMziMI_QwjvZTI551L8MwexzZ5Y4AT0t7IEzE2xJy6Zw-rCGVsXA8A_b_kFbiBK1e_vvTbelejeEI5xkVkyZHkq9n4No9lmxyjZnqf8-Pgv-3DcVBdcERkLqP6_D5LA0hQ7uvReh9S7-o/s1600-h/chocolate-cake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMziMI_QwjvZTI551L8MwexzZ5Y4AT0t7IEzE2xJy6Zw-rCGVsXA8A_b_kFbiBK1e_vvTbelejeEI5xkVkyZHkq9n4No9lmxyjZnqf8-Pgv-3DcVBdcERkLqP6_D5LA0hQ7uvReh9S7-o/s400/chocolate-cake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433423862982746226" border="0" /></a> She said it was fine, but nothing out-of-this-world. She was more interested in eyeballing my dessert for the rest of the evening.<br /><br />Cause the famous <span style="font-weight: bold;">bread pudding</span> was on the dessert menu! (Sort of… they ix-nayed the bacon —maybe they thought it was too out there for Restaurant Week):<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLIgpaSZ3IOoUMFWArNOwDLgwT_UCyyDG1V7hp2cWvprhmFK61c2_tB2Ih5hjpP4jgK677j1Dzbk1CEq8rlTtUYUI81ExcfApDosVSgaFIqcDwSmUryJ0U4rkonl_ExNV-7seKWoYamA0/s1600-h/breadpudding.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 230px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLIgpaSZ3IOoUMFWArNOwDLgwT_UCyyDG1V7hp2cWvprhmFK61c2_tB2Ih5hjpP4jgK677j1Dzbk1CEq8rlTtUYUI81ExcfApDosVSgaFIqcDwSmUryJ0U4rkonl_ExNV-7seKWoYamA0/s400/breadpudding.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433423823743649874" border="0" /></a>Bacon or no bacon, my first bite was one of those classic first bites. It reminded me of when <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JDK2azVSE5Q">Anton Ego took a bite of Lil Chef’s ratatouille</a> in <span style="font-style: italic;">Ratatouille</span>: a sensory explosion that took me back to Saturday breakfasts with Mom, to comfort, to sheer happiness, to indulgence. To da <span style="font-style: italic;">shiznit</span>. I kept looking at that little yellow square placed before me, stupefied as to how one bite of anything could be so good. And it’s why I will <span style="font-style: italic;">for certain</span> come back to Dovetail when Restaurant Week is over. I simply must have that little yellow square again.<br /><br />After dessert, a small plate of mignardises:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnAWBGtcK6sT2UGdwblyd3DUnJVt4LF56D7eX3o8J7Nl3RL5tkmg2xooLeB_rWWBYsv0b2nceeTeNGcxsmww5AVMEUowdkif0jWleW7hLFMXwc8S7rx-hQxROTs3sn68sJGaEUyy-NOmI/s1600-h/minardises.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnAWBGtcK6sT2UGdwblyd3DUnJVt4LF56D7eX3o8J7Nl3RL5tkmg2xooLeB_rWWBYsv0b2nceeTeNGcxsmww5AVMEUowdkif0jWleW7hLFMXwc8S7rx-hQxROTs3sn68sJGaEUyy-NOmI/s400/minardises.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433424091643930050" border="0" /></a> And with the bill, some peanut-butter granola for the road:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCFvYrw7ZOGvCx0N6eecRVf6msIrrVjX4O7WU4GIbF3_m1b-iqJtA8WcMwu2T42EcPRroWCgXPp-H6-9p-ENDG94R2YgWk9Q1RBxa7r-P8u7dyUY2JmxoBA2ZBZvaDwvacee0khgBzvHs/s1600-h/granola.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCFvYrw7ZOGvCx0N6eecRVf6msIrrVjX4O7WU4GIbF3_m1b-iqJtA8WcMwu2T42EcPRroWCgXPp-H6-9p-ENDG94R2YgWk9Q1RBxa7r-P8u7dyUY2JmxoBA2ZBZvaDwvacee0khgBzvHs/s400/granola.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433423999319226994" border="0" /></a>The highs far outweighed any lows experienced at Dovetail (lows included our tea arriving after dessert, and one overly ambitious server who came by and hovered over us to make sure we ate our amuses (Eileen and I wanted that tasty cornbread before anything)).<br /><br />So stay classy, Dovetail. Perhaps next time I visit, the slab of bacon will be put in its rightful place—atop of your bread pudding. I can tell already it will work just perfectly.<br /><br /><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://www.dovetailnyc.com/">Dovetail</a><br />103 West 77th Street<br />New York, NY 10024<br />212-362-3800Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-61004141153065443552010-01-31T22:11:00.003-05:002010-02-01T16:55:52.227-05:00NYC Restaurant Week: Winter 2010Howdy fellers,<br /><br />Just a quick note to let you know <a href="http://www.nycgo.com/restaurantweek">New York City Restaurant Week: Winter 2010</a> is upon us. This past Friday, Eileen and I had an extremely satisfying dinner at <a href="http://www.dovetailnyc.com/">Dovetail</a>. (Lord knows why I picked a restaurant so far away from Grand Central Station on the coldest night of the year, but it was well worth it). The food, service, and ambiance: all top-notch and very thoughtful. Check back later this week for a full report (having some issues getting photos off of my camera).<br /><br />Looking forward to continuing NYC Restaurant Week this Friday at <a href="http://www.jazzstandard.com/blue/index.html">Blue Smoke</a>!<br /><br />What about you? What are you most excited to try? Or, better yet, where have you gone? Tell us all about it in the Comments section below.Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-31044218667307609882010-01-10T15:14:00.009-05:002010-01-11T09:31:37.523-05:00Hudson Valley Restaurant Week 2010I may be a little late, but the list of participating restaurants has been posted for <a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://www.hudsonvalleyrestaurantweek.com/restaurants.php">2010 Hudson Valley Restaurant Week</a>, March 15-28th (enjoy a three-course, prix-fixe lunch for $20 and dinner for $28 at participating restaurants). I’d advise making your reservations now, as this event has risen steadily in popularity over the years—spots fill up quickly, especially Friday evenings at the more well-known restaurants.<br /><br />What are the more well-known restaurants, you ask? Well, perhaps more important than ‘well-known,’ is finding the restaurant that will give you the best bang for your buck. For instance, everyone’s favorite new restaurant <a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/mastery-at-cookery.html">The Cookery</a> is on the list, yet dishes on their current menu are such a great value, a pre-fixe menu could potentially be more money—for less options. No, my game plan each and every Restaurant Week is to test out the places that could make a real dent in my wallet without the discount. Somewhere I’ve been curious to try, but not necessarily curious enough where I would want to deal with the hefty bill that would follow. Here are some “high curiosity” places: <a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://www.42therestaurant.com/">42</a>, <a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://www.ciachef.edu/">The American Bounty at the Culinary Institute of America</a>, <a href="http://www.kittlehouse.com/"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Crabtree’s Kittle House</span></a>, <a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://www.castleonthehudson.com/">Equus at the Castle on the Hudson</a>, <a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://www.harvest2000.com/">Harvest on Hudson</a>, <a href="http://www.ironhorsegrill.com/"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Iron Horse Grill</span></a>, <a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://www.lapanetiere.com/">La Panetiere</a>, <a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://www.ruthschris.com/">Ruth Chris’s Steak House</a>, and <a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://www.xaviars.com/">X20 Xaviars on the Hudson</a>.<br /><br />What’s missing? Would’ve been nice to see Richard Gere’s <a href="http://bedfordpostinn.com/">Bedford Post Inn</a> on the list, as well as <a href="http://www.tarrylodge.com/">Tarry Lodge</a>.<br /><br />Also, I suppose I should address last Restaurant Week. If you remember <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/04/hudson-valley-restaurant-week-2009.html">my report from last time around</a>, I was admittedly a crankypants. [<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">…but rightly so, I still say! Is it wrong to expect the same level of quality and service from a restaurant? Should hidden fees be tacked on only during Restaurant Week to make up for the discounted price? Why bother participating at all in Restaurant Week if that’s your game?</span>] But what’s done is done. I’m putting on my glass-is-half-full cap, and hoping for the best this time around. This girl still loves a good deal, and if she doesn’t get one, she can always complain about it here.<br /><br />So where am I going? Right now, I’m sitting on reservations at <a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://www.xaviars.com/">X20 Xaviars on the Hudson </a>and <a style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold" href="http://www.harvest2000.com/hoh/">Harvest on Hudson</a>. I’ve been to X20 twice in the past—once for Restaurant Week (nice, but the offered dishes all seemed very similar to one another, and we sat upstairs—just not as fun as downstairs) and <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/x20-xaviars-on-hudson-sorry-peter-kelly.html">the other time</a> was for my friend’s 30th birthday (extraordinary—and our tab was actually less than when our same group did The Melting Pot’s “Big Night Out”). Hopefully, they’ll vary up the menu a bit this time around; also, I requested to sit downstairs.<br /><br />As for Harvest on Hudson, can you believe I’ve never been? I hear such great things about this restaurant, and I’m looking forward to finally testing it out. The lady on the phone was confused when I said I wanted to make a reservation for Restaurant Week. Apparently, Harvest currently <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">has </span>a pre-fixe $28 menu, which they serve Monday through Friday. So, my reservation actually goes against the whole strategy I shared with you above. We’ll see if it sticks. I’m curious to try La Panetiere, so maybe I’ll swap.<br /><br />Where are you going? What are you most excited to try?Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-60276297320573825542010-01-06T19:17:00.026-05:002010-01-06T19:58:01.895-05:00Best Dishes, 2009Aw yeah, kiiiiiiiids. Look who’s back with a<span style="font-style: italic;">nother</span> blog entry—in the same week!<br /><br />Yesterday, we tackled <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2010/01/2009-look-back.html">best and worst dining experiences of 2009</a>. Today we move on to Best Dishes. I’m going to skip “Worst Dishes” entirely because I have a feeling that might be in bad taste. All restaurants have bad days, and creating a dish seems like a deeply personal process. A chef should be allowed to fail without worrying that an experiment will come back to haunt him or her on some “Worst Dish” list... right? (Not that any chef is losing sleep over this here blog.)<br /><br />But enough of that. Let us move on to reveal… the best dishes of 2009!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#10.</span> <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/x20-xaviars-on-hudson-sorry-peter-kelly.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ravioli with Short Ribs and Foie Gras in Truffle Butter, X20 Xaviar’s on the Hudson</span></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/x20-xaviars-on-hudson-sorry-peter-kelly.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 224px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhehDBnx-Cb5hXTa2LPOY_YUUGlJFjLcFx5KbvAQg-mrtHfzhyphenhyphenDlFCh18wpGMFXriK8-zRFUV8cD-ct29S6ujYjnPFEZIRUG_qPbFglY9nLGWo0vIgR9iR2wCQyUxMX5sboINPVh65aamM/s400/X20_ravioli_lowres.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423789227032575794" border="0" /></a>So much flavor and decadence packed into one bite. Absolutely wonderful, just like Rock Star Chef Peter Kelly.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#9. <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/pearl-oyster-bar-momma-im-home.html">Fried Oysters, Pearl Oyster Bar</a></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/pearl-oyster-bar-momma-im-home.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAQITTXnUbuWPlRVfhBO2rSD1bjCi3qY8rmfSWO8-NTeVoKebt4r4mrRciTYotkvtoHJuC8wn2BwLZ2sdi3k-9alqW8D0hpmNadSS8FLoHOqKM9C7fYuUW28QHT01qtra2hNOE9O5YNcY/s400/friedoysters.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423787527518578226" border="0" /></a>Better than Pearl’s famous lobster roll.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#8. <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/shake-shack-now-i-get-it.html">ShackBurgers and Vanilla Milkshake, Shake Shack</a></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/shake-shack-now-i-get-it.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKViAhWqndEfawxdqzfGItDf5ddw_G5P7hsL44yH8ZkOoGwL14yC1eSShQb_3-0-ZiF3-PilzkLLrxY7U5hPYTrdo8eEoccgAe8RE9d-YMlB9IIbGgT8J9qX7-oP1C2ZyxvtnCJu767ko/s400/shakburgers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423788055202311906" border="0" /></a>Might not be the fanciest dish on the list, but the tummy wants what the tummy wants. And when my friend Eileen and I waited to be seated for our reservations at Eleven Madison Park, part of us just wanted to skip the whole charade and walk across the street for Shackburgers.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#7. <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/rracis-ristorante-worth-trip.html">Key Lime Pie, Rraci’s</a></span><a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/rracis-ristorante-worth-trip.html"> <span style="font-weight: bold;">Ristorante</span></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/rracis-ristorante-worth-trip.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 243px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZQdgKmfjJ8W-zUgqWDuCoFkWz__KH3QjXJA7BQwyxEoR8KwiM_cKNSngWOeqj-z1qhxn4GYnzyal4KTV3mMbQ5KSzhnx44pkYD6rXbm_NBjLBdp3UrBBpghuR-lmNEXaI6JEnRkFfzwg/s400/keylimepie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423787803867512018" border="0" /></a>I can’t decide if points should be added or subtracted for the above presentation. Cause the pie sort of looks like a hat an Avatar would wear if it were being fancy or going to church. Either way, the dessert is the best Key Lime er…Pie I’ve ever tasted.<br /><br />#6. <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tarry-lodge-mmm-mmm-good.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Chocolate Dome, Tarry Lodge</span></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tarry-lodge-mmm-mmm-good.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOe-3VhpngsaEDpeSSb89DhOIioAZBrOFlChYEUnxTYe91-qEp1M4hyphenhyphenVCb6wcrprJhsL7O4hxotMCrZJN3dou0FAbcML1m2z-b6qYYq8ZqzLxp51ZDAfxBy1R4ZjUovaxS8MtoyqCik3s/s400/TarryLodge_ChocolateDome.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423788580577383458" border="0" /></a>If Rraci’s Key Lime Pie and Tarry Lodge’s Chocolate Dome were in a Dessert-Off, however, I’d have to go with the simplicity of Tarry Lodge’s Chocolate Dome. The gooeyness of the chocolate coupled with and the richness of the pistachio ice cream was absolute perfection. Have I had that combination before? Countless times. But have I ever had it executed so well? Nope.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#5. <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/soma-107-promising.html">Charred Baby Octopus, Soma 107</a></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/soma-107-promising.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 346px; height: 230px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCEBdfZFw-uqSMJmV5V2pTNhHZ-UT2h0Q0CTmfK-EExST-PvaZ1EdB6AOgHbCI_KpOzilN0cRmm3obJn01NtL7Ex3Et18VMIougVWJGIyAhpPK6V2eATzo3KY66BeTRWcbz0GbAr8WGqU/s400/Charred-Octopus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423788223578472226" border="0" /></a>Sadly, I don’t know if this dish exists anymore. Initial buzz was very strong at Soma 107, but last I heard, chef James Cawley is no longer with the restaurant. I had no idea octopus could be so tender, and my first bite was an absolute explosion of flavors and textures.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#4.</span> <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tarry-lodge-mmm-mmm-good.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Shrimp with Grapefruit and shaved fennel, Tarry Lodge</span></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tarry-lodge-mmm-mmm-good.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 296px; height: 374px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVLPmmQmuKVINCwAanj9CbK2_BIQd8M1Rzi4LZoj-MXzZZQDi3Lm7US26CPYwa6oG_-5LQ1OoUQOtxF2qWSGq6mZifahtrVyCqSQcs6eiCFy8kMcfLx6MV7KPnoYWz9hooJgeBaYuJVSw/s400/Tarry_Lodge_ShrimpwithGrape.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423788446457111778" border="0" /></a>A handful of ultra-fresh ingredients refreshingly <span style="font-style: italic;">under</span>-fussed-over to let each element shine.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#3. <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/why-route-22-rocks.html">Dry-rub ribs, Big W’s Roadside Bar-B-Q</a></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/why-route-22-rocks.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAOKAxm30fKSSYSNaN4vUivXdyA9bd__sayHE7MqOwQovvXigeP6SOWYJAsQb9UWvH7HlbNTi-sqN_y8ydEECwl2iK3OPY9sO19h0QguzHiFsI-e0skrSq-283U00h9sC9iU8hbDTg34o/s400/ribs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423789709135010210" border="0" /></a>High on my list for the same reason Shake Shack made the cut. You simply <span style="font-style: italic;">cannot ignore</span> your cravings. And these ribs—smoked with such care and complexity—come to mind pretty much anytime I’m in Dutchess—heck, even Putnam county.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#2. <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tom-tuesday-dinner-what-about-tom.html">Langoustines, Tom: Tuesday Dinner</a></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tom-tuesday-dinner-what-about-tom.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc6dU3lcaI2eDf-5CQhiCRU1rPe36OjJzgX0c4vxTmDidAjukj_3zaPuT7F2PxKyutNvfbdOc0eNAhIMadt_0TqupZtxLfpCmLIJx8P39aaMx0kw21Cm5dSM_4jzjJvuzEwGlQUfXyHwE/s400/3Langoustines.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423788890693652642" border="0" /></a>My favorite dish from my 12-course tasting menu at Tom: Tuesday Dinner happens to be my worst photograph, unfortunately. Colicchio doesn’t normally get all <span style="font-style: italic;">loco </span>in the kitchen—yet there was something about this dish that was very experimental and exotic. Were there Thai influences at play? I’m not sure, but it was his most successful and delectable dish of the evening.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#1. <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/mastery-at-cookery.html">Radiatore with Lamb Bolognese, The Cookery</a></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/mastery-at-cookery.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjICrRwjd8TGdIq8yRGPfqZ7oSnaCnsPjMNDqu52jkgapvW_unIs6n64iLTqxZxfDdRm95xC_gz7yX1MWxHLR64i-wmV_VVcFobkK9-jxRgnmVogM2TiaCaS_pOWzptM00j5PwZhT9xp1Y/s400/radiatore.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423788740912739730" border="0" /></a>My number one pick because I could eat this pasta forever and ever and never get sick of it. And it represents all I love about The Cookery: authenticity, simplicity and soul.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Honorable Mentions: <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/melt-sandwich-shop-could-be-love.html">Melt Sandwich Shop</a>’s Pulled Pork Pizza, <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/09/emmas-ale-house.html">Emma’s Ale House</a>’s Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding, <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/locanda-verde-loco-good.html">Locanda Verde</a>’s Fava Bean crostino on prosciutto bread.</span>Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-22375016635952454282010-01-05T18:51:00.034-05:002010-01-06T20:13:11.699-05:002009: A Look BackHappy New Year, everyone! Can you believe <span style="font-style: italic;">The Good Life</span> has been online for a full <span style="font-style: italic;">year</span>!?!<br /><br />Creating this blog has been an interesting experiment. It began with no real goal; instead, it was a way for me to remember and document some of the stellar meals I’ve been fortunate enough to experience. So it was a surprise when Google Analytics confirmed that people were actually visiting my site each day. Links from Liz Johnson’s <a href="http://lizjohnson.lohudblogs.com/">Small Bites</a>, <a href="http://foodgawker.com/">Foodgawker</a>, and <a href="http://www.tastespotting.com/">Tastespotting</a> grew traffic considerably, but I suppose I didn’t truly understand the power of the internetz until <a href="http://www.amateurgourmet.com/">The Amateur Gourmet</a> himself, Adam Roberts, commented on my <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/adam-roberts-i-read-your-blog.html">Almond Cake experiment</a>. A few days later, Amanda Hesser tweeted that she loved the frowny face I put in her cake. And then there was that day in August I thought Analytics was broken because it said I got over 2,000 unique visitors in one day…and then later that same day when it turned out Analytics wasn’t broken at all—<a href="http://www.cookingclub.com/Main/default.aspx">The Cooking Club of America</a> had linked to my entry on <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/blueberries-for-sharon.html">Blueberry Buckle</a>!<br /><br />People were reading me!<br /><br />I only hope I can stick with my blog in 2010. <span style="font-style: italic;">The Good Life</span> is a one-woman show… and said woman has a full-time job, random extra-curricular hobbies, and a growing case of ADD. Sitting down to write can be difficult at times. As can paying for some of these absolutely fabulous meals. Hopefully, you’ll visit now and again, and won’t be too frustrated if there’s a lull in new content.<br /><br />That said, let’s do one of those 2009 wrap-ups, where I tell you about all the best and worst things of 2009! In 2010!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Best Meals, 2009</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">2009 netted some mouth-watering, exciting food all over New York—fine dining, roadside food, grandma’s cooking: there were highs in every category. Here follows five of my top favorites:</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(Note: <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/perilla-moments-of-greatness.html">Perilla</a>, <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/craft-oh-yeah_02.html">Craft</a> and <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/babbo-surpasses-hype.html">Babbo </a>(the pasta-tasting evening) were not eligible for Best Meals, 2009, as all happened at the end of 2008. Each meal was absolutely fantastic, and a strong factor as to why I started this blog in the first place.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#5. <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/aquavit-nyc-restaurant-week-summer-2009.html">Aquavit</a></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/aquavit-nyc-restaurant-week-summer-2009.html"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423411195750327202" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 400px; cursor: pointer; height: 266px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj36QG5a35AQsTKh3bBe-cGBREUYxjDsYYPQ3gBsLwfjnqqZVD15QQXHWd_6DYng3C7nQwN0_Cr5ZEOrGVdwrnZ7wtPV5HaPJg2wKjPvKr19rbubslRruDVjYhz0yF_TcCmCKDOCIFKNlM/s400/Aquavit.jpg" border="0" /></a>Here we have a NYC Restaurant Week participant that got it right: a pre-fixe menu finally representative of a restaurant’s cuisine without making diners suspicious as to what they were missing off of the regular menu; a special guest appearance by a super-star chef (Marcus Samuelsson); the strange and intriguing flavors of Scandinavian haute cuisine; and the feeling that I had just experienced a part of New York City history. After over 20 years in Manhattan, Aquavit is decidedly still über-fabulous.<br /><p><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#4. <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/why-route-22-rocks.html">Big W’s Roadside Bar-B-Q</a></span></p><p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/08/why-route-22-rocks.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi87fFS5aYZlSqppqxXbnKbcAP0gWM75f9eymeih2TmFSCFJi88aWFWwXNq8Uh_71L7tbOiEPQ3MCQ6Re1GMFTQPKyFEem1aZqBupw9l6OgBQPRx1o8wkZYuRlt-4ilUmFb49NAGs0yB28/s400/BigWs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423794363871533106" border="0" /></a>Seriously. Don’t let the roadside locale or the drive north to Dutchess County deter you. And before you turn your nose up to <span style="font-style: italic;">da best ribs in da world</span>, know that owner and all-around-nice-guy Warren Norstein used to cook at both <a href="http://www.chanterellenyc.com/">Chanterelle</a> and <a href="http://www.davidbouley.com/">Bouley</a> (in da city). His dry-rub ribs? Intoxicating. His excitement? Contagious. Buy a mountain of ribs for a few bucks, and while Warren packs up your order, sample some of his brisket, smoked chicken, or wings. Warren’s only happy when you’re happy.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#3. <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tarry-lodge-mmm-mmm-good.html">Tarry Lodge</a></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tarry-lodge-mmm-mmm-good.html"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423411775064123986" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 267px; cursor: pointer; height: 400px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmTcTJi8EwsfAIM2iYA73eWjn7jnmdRSVaZBcR1dE2k0LZLI1CSC90IYNebmpdm6Daj7ijI4qVlrCZicjNytmnYWcKNW9v9I7TK95lKDpdcSc8umhCDlbNG7_RYRW5zxUu-guuO43XPqA/s400/Tarry-Lodge.jpg" border="0" /></a>Very new to the scene in 2009 was Mario Batali and Joe Bastianich’s Tarry Lodge in Port Chester. One of my favorite dishes all year was unquestionably the grilled shrimp with grapefruit and shaved fennel root I sampled off of the antipasti menu. A simple dish, yes, but bursting with flavor, freshness—each ingredient made better by the next. A trend it seems, with all of their antipasti and pizzas. This restaurant is the real deal.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#2.<a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/mastery-at-cookery.html"> The Cookery</a></span><br />While all of Westchester buzzed about Tarry Lodge’s opening (deservedly so, the food is fantastic), a small, unassuming restaurant in Dobbs Ferry quietly opened at the bottom of Chestnut Avenue serving simple, authentic Italian food. Little did anyone know, chef David DiBari was about to storm upon the Westchester scene, delivering mind-blowing homemade pasta, affordable wine, and food just like your Italian Grandma used to make<span style="font-style: italic;">—</span>but perhaps only if your grandma molded cavatelli in Tuscany for 20 years and bested Mario Batali six straight times on Food Network’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Iron Chef</span>. It’s <span style="font-style: italic;">that </span>good, peeps. The Radiatore with Lamb Bolognese still calls to me.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">#1. <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tom-tuesday-dinner-what-about-tom.html">Tom: Tuesday Dinner</a></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/03/tom-tuesday-dinner-what-about-tom.html"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423411965894757378" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 295px; cursor: pointer; height: 368px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSq8ryRjJ7ozBYRUPeyTf-A2kTg7basdNzhx81zRN32W8qxsnPCPfKeeD5vhc6qcxbmZhPqJi6zJd_-uH-f7chhM6ee7Z-h-QPmZsLXeoxIykGwQExIxuSLwMgb2g4YJcqg20lRJ2UZrc/s400/TomTuesdayDinner.jpg" border="0" /></a>Was there any question that Top Chef/Dawg Tom Colicchio’s intimate private dining room open every other Tuesday evening would be crowned Best Meal of 2009? Any doubt at all? Colicchio is a hero to me. I love his philosophy, his clean, soulful food, his integrity, his …piercing blue eyes, and how he has inspired a whole new demographic to get into the kitchen and cook. If anything, I walked away that enchanted Tuesday evening admiring my Grand Poobah all the more. Nothing can touch that meal. Pure genius at work. <span style="font-style: italic;">Under</span>-rated, I say!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Honorable Mentions: <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/pearl-oyster-bar-momma-im-home.html">Pearl Oyster Bar</a>, <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/01/x20-xaviars-on-hudson-sorry-peter-kelly.html">X20 Xaviar’s on the Hudson</a>, <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/melt-sandwich-shop-could-be-love.html">Melt Sandwich Shop</a>, <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/babbo-revisited.html">Babbo (second visit)</a>, <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/07/shake-shack-now-i-get-it.html">Shake Shack</a></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Biggest Disappointments</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">, 2009</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I’m more of a “glass-is-half-full” gal, so can’t say there were a lot of disappointments in 2009. I went to some amazing destinations, all pretty fantastic, some due to the food, some due to the service, some due to the company—no matter the pitfall, it seemed as if there was always a saving grace.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/escoffier-for-shame.html"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423410777991880706" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 378px; cursor: pointer; height: 226px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhifrR9p7XPlpSwpZDlGr2Yja4yCRcOai8w7cHcbufzOyvRTR29mZzhoWgQeN9rw7eihk_bPXoEuexdPJpM04RCBSkPJqo3v28NmoX8ulZZjEVXGleoN7TWrU4ZtUiFbQca_szOGcIlRQ8/s400/CulinaryInstitute.jpg" border="0" /></a>If I had three lemons to pick, one would be in Hyde Park, New York, where the next 3-Star Michelin Star chefs are “allegedly” born and bred—<a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/02/escoffier-for-shame.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Escoffier at The Culinary Institute of America</span></a>, I’ve got your number. In a nutshell: your whole staff fell asleep the night of my visit.<br /><br />Another big disappointment of 2009 was my evening at <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/05/curious-incident-at-spotted-pig-in.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">The Spotted Pig</span></a> where I shared oysters with a charming doctor who looked like James McAvoy (Yeah ladies, I know—pretty appalling, right?). The <span style="font-style: italic;">food </span>was good I guess, it’s more of what followed with the doc. ...nothin. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/09/mortons-steakhouse.html"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 303px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge04Lc9RpsHoMDwEBUuvgge-DZoNNMBVBU4_CQD5oZIPT9TAPJU8VOOSUrmlvm56VjTvFKZYVYj7J_BxdLx_k0YHLo4AEl9Jm4BnX9QLPdDzSF02W7nbQNTVy8TqHY6_l-HWvLiDSLZxI/s400/Mortons.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423761507240835698" border="0" /></a></p><p><span>Finally, I</span>’<span>d be remiss if I let <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/09/mortons-steakhouse.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Morton</span></a></span><a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/09/mortons-steakhouse.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">’</span></a><span><a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/09/mortons-steakhouse.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">s The Steakhouse</span></a>, White Plains off the hook. Service was decidely <span style="font-style: italic;">on </span>the hook that night.</span></p><p>...oh, and <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/06/corton-not-my-scene.html"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Corton</span></a> can get over itself.<br /></p><p>Check back later this week for the best dishes of 2009! And here’s to a delicious 2010!</p><p><em><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">UPDATE 1/6/10</span>: I shouldn't write that The Spotted Pig was a disappointment. The food was quite good. And if the doctor</em> had <em>called me back, then I never would've had that passionate affair with Gerard Butler (Just kidding. Turns out, Gerry</em><em>'</em><em>s not very passionate at all.) </em><em></em></p><p> </p>Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-83625966503364873782010-01-04T11:59:00.003-05:002010-01-04T12:04:12.487-05:00Nope, I Haven't Quit Blogging.I just received an email from someone in the food business whom I respect very much asking me if I've quit blogging. Holy mortification, batman.<br /><br />Nope! I'm still here, chief! In fact, I'm working on those "Top 2009" lists that are so popular. Would've been nice to finish them in 2009, but what can you do. Check back later this week for them, and my apologies for the long hiatus.<br /><br />Happy New Year!Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-6204164131336770272009-11-23T23:11:00.010-05:002009-11-25T10:27:27.702-05:00‘Lil Bites of Heaven<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCtI_FgtCq1Q3SIPPyeIX0N88XU4SxFg8_qWiQ95jmfIrVbUXKtHorK70nKmGOUwj6VZzuegR8uyyy7pueo4_1wpOaU4w8gf0WRot2OohIhv_pSH3bNuHau8-B3coWub5XbgQkn23mLQs/s1600/IMG_2452.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407518364306372946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCtI_FgtCq1Q3SIPPyeIX0N88XU4SxFg8_qWiQ95jmfIrVbUXKtHorK70nKmGOUwj6VZzuegR8uyyy7pueo4_1wpOaU4w8gf0WRot2OohIhv_pSH3bNuHau8-B3coWub5XbgQkn23mLQs/s400/IMG_2452.jpg" border="0" /></a>It’s turkey week! Is everyone going bonkers?<br /><br />Me? Not so much. My apartment’s teeny-tiny, so my mom handles the brunt of the work each and every year, and quite capably I might add. There’s always a gourmet turkey (my favorite was the year she made a <a href="http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/wolfgang-puck/brined-roast-turkey-with-pan-gravy-recipe/index.html">Wolfgang Puck turkey</a> and said all the brining ingredients cost more than the turkey); the steadfast standbys; and then a couple exciting new neighbors. Sometimes I bring side dishes to this shindig (Daniel Humm’s <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/19/dining/193srex.html">Fingerling Potatoes with Dried Figs and Thyme</a> was a huge hit last year); other times I bake cookies.<br /><br />Tomorrow, I’m planning on making mashed turnips, along with <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Food and Wine</span>’s <a href="http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/creamed-spinach-and-parsnips">creamed spinach with parsnips</a>, and, if I’m feeling lucky, a portabello gravy.<br /><br />But I get ahead of myself. (Be on the lookout for a post-Thanksgiving wrap-up, as well as a report on Eleven Madison Park, where I was lucky enough to dine this past Saturday.) In my last entry, I promised you cookies. Festive, holiday cookies that for many, many years, got the job <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">done </span>until <a href="http://sharon-thegoodlife.blogspot.com/2009/11/cookies-fit-for-man-who-saved-me-from.html">Tavis’s Ricotta Cookies</a> usurped them. And some days? Well some days, I get a confused feeling deep in my tummy and think maybe I jumped the gun when I pronounced Tavis’s Ricotta Cookies to be better than this gem.<br /><br />Because there is only one <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">‘Lil Bite of Heaven</span>.<br /><br />In truth, the cookie of which I speak is the “Sandbakelse,” a Scandinavian tart-shaped cookie, and it’s been knocking socks off for years, pilgrim. But let’s face it: who can pronounce “Sandbakelse”? And number two, who wants to? A ‘Lil Bite of Heaven’ is <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">wayyyy</span> more accurate.<br /><br />I found this particular Sandbakelse recipe in one of Martha Stewart’s old Holiday Special magazines (the one where she made an igloo cake out of marzipan). I follow the recipe pretty accurately, except I prefer to fill the tart with warmed apricot-almond jam, instead of the room-temperature, red currant jelly she calls for (I also like a pecan filling, a recipe for another day): I melt apricot jam over the stove to get it nice and soft, and then add a few drops of almond extract to give it the most wonderful, tantalizing taste. But experiment! Choose your own favorite! Add a sweet potato puree! Go crazy! The real reason these little tarts are so delicious is the hint of cardamom: an intense, and exotic, (and expensive—the last bottle I picked up was around $11) spice. No one can quite place it, but <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">every</span>one tastes <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">some</span>thing. And then hounds me year after year to make these treashahs again.<br /><br /><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">‘Lil Bites of Heaven</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Adapted from Martha Stewart’s Sandbakelse recipe</span><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Makes about 5 dozen</span><br /><br />Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Butter as many mini-muffin tins as you’ve got (you’ll need them all)! In a large bowl, beat ½ pound cold, unsalted butter and 1 cup granulated sugar for about 2 minutes, or until light and fluffy. Beat in 1 large egg until smooth. Add 3 cups all-purpose flour (gradually), ¾ teaspoon cardamom, and a pinch of salt: beat until combined.<br /><br />Roll dough into 1-inch balls; press them into the buttered mini-muffin tins (go halfway up the tin; if the cookie is too deep, the proportions will be off and you’ll just get a mouthful of jam in your ‘lil bite); make a small well with your finger. <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Do not add the jam yet</span>.<br /><br />Bake until golden brown, about 18-20 minutes, rotating trays halfway through. Place cookies on a wire rack to cool. Dust with confectioners’ sugar. Fill each well with the jam/filling of your choice. (<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">See above for my notes on apricot almond jam, my preference</span>.)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyPC3_zk7MJ1UG7fDS6uwiT3cycIMEwUa5BSbJhFh3ACYaEGoFY7SRXijCsdmmk_HKFgqbzjswzvfjApu2rBI4v5aihVhQbBk2dQCh4sjtkfJ9TKYOhJS2f-RqhHUJ3CqbrVHS9DaMZg/s1600/IMG_2405.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407518318648498946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOyPC3_zk7MJ1UG7fDS6uwiT3cycIMEwUa5BSbJhFh3ACYaEGoFY7SRXijCsdmmk_HKFgqbzjswzvfjApu2rBI4v5aihVhQbBk2dQCh4sjtkfJ9TKYOhJS2f-RqhHUJ3CqbrVHS9DaMZg/s400/IMG_2405.jpg" border="0" /></a>I hope these are as successful for your Holidays as they have been for mine.<br /><br />Now what are you waiting for? Back to the turkey and stuffing!Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-11005961192409504262009-11-15T22:38:00.020-05:002009-11-16T07:35:02.091-05:00Cookies Fit for the Man Who Saved Me from Certain Death<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5jdU5EhhxiOLLA9u6YfGex5VjseenvfrMHGCH59cG19Bebr3FcT3ThVghlcMuhMsD3q5y2jjmPeczTraZvqxmeK2tqRMFCYuEpcty18WSnPh_tFDH36eLaAlIyKmxT7VB6HZTETKp6k/s1600/ricottacookies.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI5jdU5EhhxiOLLA9u6YfGex5VjseenvfrMHGCH59cG19Bebr3FcT3ThVghlcMuhMsD3q5y2jjmPeczTraZvqxmeK2tqRMFCYuEpcty18WSnPh_tFDH36eLaAlIyKmxT7VB6HZTETKp6k/s400/ricottacookies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404542437022338946" border="0" /></a>Last week, I had a bit of excitement. I pulled into work and realized that one of my tires was completely flat. Completely. Flatter than the line that registered how dead Jack Bauer was in the middle of Season 2 of <span style="font-style: italic;">24</span> after he’s repeatedly tasered by terrorists. There was no way I could drive on it.<br /><br />Lucky for me, a gentleman at the office offered to change it. His name is Tavis, and he’s just an all-around nice guy. He also for whatever reason has always reminded me of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tony_Almeida">Tony Almeida</a> from <span style="font-style: italic;">24</span>.<br /><br />I’ve never had a flat before, so to have someone help me in this situation was a really big deal. I particularly appreciated Tavis’s good deed that afternoon, as he was on his way to a three-hour meeting, but insisted on changing the tire first, thinking it might be dark by the time his meeting was over.<br /><br />I felt horrible about putting him out: “Tavis, you totally don’t have time to change my tire right now!” I said.<br /><br />But Tavis pulled out his gun and CTU badge and said:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhggOikY0e1sYugIW9BV-cZPzhUYJNflOOYm3lIdDnt-KrimEsSCvcKzKZSMcYpi4xveo4X9klu4hjSgpJO4MmXPpJoHDGcQlSz_W_diG4M1b4UW9PwF6wMPvpypEcG6-NydsZkLqERBL4/s1600/TonyAlmeida.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhggOikY0e1sYugIW9BV-cZPzhUYJNflOOYm3lIdDnt-KrimEsSCvcKzKZSMcYpi4xveo4X9klu4hjSgpJO4MmXPpJoHDGcQlSz_W_diG4M1b4UW9PwF6wMPvpypEcG6-NydsZkLqERBL4/s400/TonyAlmeida.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404541313411951570" border="0" /></a>Do you see what I did there? The <span style="font-style: italic;">cookie </span>is supposed to be Tony Almeida.<br /><br />I knew what Tavis’s good deed deserved: the most delicious cookie in the whole wide world, The Ricotta Cookie, henceforward known as Tavis’s Ricotta Cookie. It’s wonderful: the ricotta adds moistness, the icing has a hint of almond extract—they also taste great right out of the freezer.<br /><br />I found the recipe on <a href="http://allrecipes.com/">allrecipes.com</a> (it was submitted by “Sandy” – go, Sandy!), and upon baking my very first batch a few months ago, this little cookie instantly commandeered position of my previous favorite cookie in the whole world, “The Lil Bite of Heaven” (I’ll post a recipe for Lil Bites in a week or so – it’s an excellent, festive cookie, perfect for the holidays).<br /><br />Here are the ingredients you’ll need to make <span style="font-weight: bold;">Tavis’s Ricotta Cookies</span> (<span style="font-style: italic;">yields 96 cookies</span>).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTPrtT_kbSkDVnu-eHjWhci8jyhzC2g5FJmodiSpepI-a962zuUMWEBlL-wI5aVWyxokBRnYKOeRPn_dJbP0JGCM4J3dVToJY0d1qIQ8TiHWdr42nCwhl9KQZU-87YHnSDq1tC4g_0BVc/s1600/Ingredients.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTPrtT_kbSkDVnu-eHjWhci8jyhzC2g5FJmodiSpepI-a962zuUMWEBlL-wI5aVWyxokBRnYKOeRPn_dJbP0JGCM4J3dVToJY0d1qIQ8TiHWdr42nCwhl9KQZU-87YHnSDq1tC4g_0BVc/s400/Ingredients.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404541102567885970" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">For the cookie</span>: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees, and in a medium bowl cream together: ½ pound of softened butter, 1 ¾ cup white sugar, 2 eggs, 15 ounces of ricotta cheese, and 2 tablespoons of vanilla extract.<br /><br />In a separate bowl, combine 4 cups all-purpose flour, 1 teaspoon baking powder, 1 teaspoon baking soda. Blend into the creamed mixture.<br /><br />The next step says to roll the dough into teaspoon-sized balls, and arrange on an ungreased cookie sheet, but the dough is hard to work with at this point. It’s a little sticky:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyPTYGxo7lysrzRYQ0Z6rGx3IWL43fhz7raakIC3gZsT_vCa5ulHQFT4cHK2PapAXYc64gr4axa53OUtTwxUmPc39R5jfBUV_qJ1-AQUHroD6AdgmpqsHFiNCy01OQacYsN3AWMjUkWfY/s1600/batter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyPTYGxo7lysrzRYQ0Z6rGx3IWL43fhz7raakIC3gZsT_vCa5ulHQFT4cHK2PapAXYc64gr4axa53OUtTwxUmPc39R5jfBUV_qJ1-AQUHroD6AdgmpqsHFiNCy01OQacYsN3AWMjUkWfY/s400/batter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404541010827389170" border="0" /></a>Instead, roll up the dough in a few pieces of plastic wrap, and refrigerate for an hour or so.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibo64DTB5Ndog8gzk-hEIdxvn_9pr2lhNfvceqS5BThPr8TuS_FJH8vwapiCImW8TnSzKTiXD73rCrhpzoEvfYiqPG6a98czTH66taFMcJKyoqUcMvGG8Wwclz9F3xvcJSRjl2BiMmO-Y/s1600/saranwrap.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibo64DTB5Ndog8gzk-hEIdxvn_9pr2lhNfvceqS5BThPr8TuS_FJH8vwapiCImW8TnSzKTiXD73rCrhpzoEvfYiqPG6a98czTH66taFMcJKyoqUcMvGG8Wwclz9F3xvcJSRjl2BiMmO-Y/s400/saranwrap.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404541228517501234" border="0" /></a> It’ll make it much easier to get to this point:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOKcV476kDkhc2ewCeBHs5vVnNqQXRzSukIP2oJqbRsXUOheG7FXHroncLnjvQ4RhtD4EhpjqcjYO-Ok7VpvncZywvwqALWzdZrQ50yybknOe1qxuD_bbnDZHbeATeF-LRTb0cadgz_WE/s1600/ricottaballs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOKcV476kDkhc2ewCeBHs5vVnNqQXRzSukIP2oJqbRsXUOheG7FXHroncLnjvQ4RhtD4EhpjqcjYO-Ok7VpvncZywvwqALWzdZrQ50yybknOe1qxuD_bbnDZHbeATeF-LRTb0cadgz_WE/s400/ricottaballs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404541149372967554" border="0" /></a>Bake each sheet 8-10 minutes, until lightly browned.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">For the topping</span>: In a small bowl, beat 5 tablespoons milk, 1 ½ cups confectioners’ sugar, and 1 teaspoon almond extract until smooth. Spoon the mixture over the warm cookies, and add colored candy sprinkles.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEN9UBIMhSX0vecrN05cW7VVKn__FPZpif0JK3gGJgYbWZHLJo2UkWVUJURXZ3zk2NxdZKyc0DIrRSm8eMGP_j_rmDWxYsqkUBFt_kMcoIJHk2tsWqKUH_Ou26rvluF_HDXlZXcGhGIWE/s1600/icing.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEN9UBIMhSX0vecrN05cW7VVKn__FPZpif0JK3gGJgYbWZHLJo2UkWVUJURXZ3zk2NxdZKyc0DIrRSm8eMGP_j_rmDWxYsqkUBFt_kMcoIJHk2tsWqKUH_Ou26rvluF_HDXlZXcGhGIWE/s400/icing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404541060137642370" border="0" /></a>And <span style="font-style: italic;">voila</span>! Check out these manly cookies:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3NfSVQHC6O54Q6PppVoRr7DK519lxu7aJO_sCJ-xCtCv9xVFhHfUkIMHOLo4FrS7WRqw_oByL-BTwAxOuExohgqJD5dU9VtXz0GGQ2W6BtHWa0h1WaKakiLi_l3l49fEl7zhgx4lDoHU/s1600/ricottacookies2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3NfSVQHC6O54Q6PppVoRr7DK519lxu7aJO_sCJ-xCtCv9xVFhHfUkIMHOLo4FrS7WRqw_oByL-BTwAxOuExohgqJD5dU9VtXz0GGQ2W6BtHWa0h1WaKakiLi_l3l49fEl7zhgx4lDoHU/s400/ricottacookies2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404541188295238658" border="0" /></a>Thanks Tavis for your help last week. It was deeply appreciated.Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5884966880400866785.post-67081163097242896592009-11-09T22:02:00.006-05:002009-11-10T13:33:31.060-05:00Rangoli Indian Cuisine: Off the Hookah<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9rscpMY1YoBlJtMLxLnsKbabOAtiR_Q8Cb649-logtE_9zllUJLHkPGxCFf4M1kF7NhpkYGKK4di5J_5sTkObckSUZTQGWVe2fTYAQeuGMaFAA04mg0ZB2C7Zk003S__c8kJ72xSgdPo/s1600-h/Rangoli.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402305011313560738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9rscpMY1YoBlJtMLxLnsKbabOAtiR_Q8Cb649-logtE_9zllUJLHkPGxCFf4M1kF7NhpkYGKK4di5J_5sTkObckSUZTQGWVe2fTYAQeuGMaFAA04mg0ZB2C7Zk003S__c8kJ72xSgdPo/s400/Rangoli.jpg" border="0" /></a>Why, what’s this? Could it be… a blog entry?<br /><br />I’m back everybody! Sorry it’s been so quiet over here. My 8-5:00 has been more like a 6-7:00 this past week, and the focus has been getting that work done for quite some time. However, to celebrate the end of a hectic week, I got the peeps together Saturday evening for what turned out to be just about the coolest get-together <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">ever</span>. All I can say is, my apologies for not alerting you of this event ahead of time. Because this was a classy affair: unbelievably entertaining and an insanely good value.<br /><br />The venue was <span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Rangoli Indian Cuisine</span> in New Rochelle. I’m always up for Indian, but the restaurant was having a special affair to commemorate Diwali (an Indian holiday celebrating the festival of lights). For $50 per person, guests got to experience: an Indian buffet, open bar, bellydancing, live Sitar and Tabla music, and a bazaar downstairs offering Henna tattooing, Indian jewelry and clothing. The event was brought to my attention by my bellydancing instructor Bina (yep, you heard that right …and we’re moving on), who said she would be performing.<br /><br />So, while the event has passed, and I realize some of you might’ve appreciated a heads-up as opposed to a re-cap, I’ll try to paint an accurate picture of what we experienced, and be sure to post the next event when it is announced. (I’m told Rangoli hosts live events often).<br /><br />I arrived at the restaurant at 7:00 p.m. with friend Todd and bellydancing partner-in-crime Tia. There we met my brother Bill and his girlfriend Lori, and friends Erin, Pete, Christina and Chuck. A table had been reserved for our party in a festive-looking dining room, but the real action of the hour was happening at the open bar. Yes! <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Open</span> bar! $50 per person was the golden ticket to Indian apps, buffet, live entertainment, culture, and ah-ah ah-ah ah-al-co-hol. Of the copious amounts of beverages consumed that evening were: Jack and Coke, Seven and Seven (both were very strong), good quality Pinot, Kingfisher, Heineken …. and cranberry juice for the designated driver. Next to the bar was a generous portion of appetizers, none very recognizable to me. There was a tandoori-looking chicken that was bright green in color instead of red, some type of cake made from grits, something resembling sausage, steamed lentil cakes, and an assortment of chutneys and sauces. Everything was quite tasty.<br /><br />After a few rounds of drinks and more finger food than necessary, a group of us wandered downstairs to scope out the bazaar. Lovely clothing and jewelry were on hand, but I was immediately drawn to the Henna. I pointed to an intricate design and asked the woman behind the table how much and long it would take to paint. “Ten dollars,” she said. “And only about five minutes.” My girlfriends and I exclaimed over the deal and we all agreed to get tattoos. Sisters forever! I sat down first, and the woman began applying henna paste to my hand using a device similar to an icing tube. Within minutes, a lovely floral pattern emerged. But I was confused. The henna sat on my skin like little raised dots. The woman saw my expression. “Leave it on for about 20 minutes, and then rinse your hand with water,” she explained. “It will be dyed underneath.”<br /><br />I eyed the delicate, wet dots. “Good luck trying to eat tonight,” I thought to myself sadly, but cheered when the woman added a few more swirls. My girlfriends began to shift uncomfortably, also thinking how difficult it would be to eat. As if on cue, we heard the host upstairs introduce the bellydancers; the excuses followed soon after, then a mass exodus of sisters sans tattoo went up to the dining room.<br /><br />So whatever: I was the only one with a beautiful semi-permanent Henna tattoo. Monte from the mailroom made me feel a lot better about it at work two days later. (“Good Lord!” he exclaimed when he dropped off the mail. “What happened to your hand?” I told him. “It …looks kind of gross,” he said and then walked away.)<br /><br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Any</span>hoo, I rushed back upstairs shortly after my tattoo-less sisters, and took my seat just in the nick of time to see the beautiful and mesmerizing Bina dramatically emerge in full bellydancing garb and Isis Wings.<br /><br />Talk about a performer. Every eye in the house was on Bina. Watching her dance was reason enough to visit Rangoli. She moved in and out of tables with energy and spirit, captivating and inspiring all. Later, two of Bina’s students joined her on the dance floor.<br /><br />“This is awesome,” Pete said, smiling from ear to ear, recording every second with his cell phone. “Todd, duck down,” he said, positioning his phone over Todd’s head to get a better view of undulating torsos. I noticed a growing crowd of people outside the restaurant, hands cupped to the window, also trying to get a glimpse of the show.<br /><br />Then I noticed one of the dancers move toward me. But her hands were outstretched in a beckoning-motion.<br /><br />Before I even had a chance to panic, I was swaying back and forth with the dancers on the floor, moving to the music, amidst cheers and encouragement from my friends. Next it was Todd’s turn to bust some crowd-pleasing moves, then Lori and Christina’s, followed by other diners who were more than happy to be coerced onto the dance floor. It was amusing to see some of the more timid and reserved-looking guests boogie down. Open bar must’ve really helped with inhibitions because there wasn’t a wet blanket in the room. Just happy, slightly glassy-eyed faces.<br /><br />Still, the star of the show was unequivocally Bina. There was veil work, there was a cane, there was a sword. That she <span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">balanced on her torso</span>. Unbelievable.<br /><br />“Pete,” Erin said, nudging her fiancé. “Can we come here for my birthday?”<br /><br />“Absolutely,” he said, still recording. “It’s better and cheaper than Atlantic City.”<br /><br />After the dancing portion of the evening, the buffet opened. While I realize that this here is a food blog, there was just too much going on to take pictures or really take note of what I was eating. And it all moved fast—by the time I got to the buffet table, the naan was gone, and shrimp and lamb had been strip-mined out of two main dishes (if you were patient enough to wait, all was replenished). I remember enjoying the chicken tikka masala very much, and exclaiming in joy when I saw a bowl of galub jamon balls for dessert.<br /><br />The restaurant was also very warm, and there was only a small pitcher of water for our table of nine. Factor in alcohol, spicy, unfamiliar food, and our rowdy bunch soon got very quiet.<br /><br />“My stomach’s angry,” Pete murmured, taking a bite of eggplant.<br /><br />“Mine too,” said Todd. He loaded his fork full of spicy lentils. “Let’s see if these help.”<br /><br />Naan somehow found its way to our table, which was wonderful. I also loaded up on a dish that resembled Paneer Saag, but contained baby corn instead of paneer cheese, which was a bit of a disappointment. Still, the food ranged to good to very good, and made me want to come back to Rangoli and have a proper dinner.<br /><br />Live Sitar and Tabla music carried us through the rest of the evening, as did the restaurant’s extremely gracious hosts. It wasn’t until very late at night that we left the restaurant, tired, full, and exceedingly satisfied.<br /><br />I was amazed at the care and consideration that went into planning such a special evening. And the value was unmatched. A gratuity was added to our bill (despite the self-service buffet) to make the total about $65 per person, yet I still found the amount under-priced for what we experienced.<br /><br />I hope to see you at the next celebration!<br /><br /><a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.rangoliindiancuisine.com"><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold">Rangoli Indian Cuisine</span></a><br />615 Main Street<br />New Rochelle, NY 10801<br />(914) 235-1306Sharonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11631847963698846644noreply@blogger.com1