An Effing Foodie

Happy 10th Anniversary, Prune!

With lovely little neighborhood joints shuttering right and left, it was heartening to hear buzz about Prune's 10 year anniversary and celebratory prix-fixe menus, one for each week for the month of October.

Soft-Spoken Feisty Lady didn't bat an eye when I asked if she was interested in a little anniversary tripe.  The fixed menu would help to clip our ordering pointers and prevent our utter destruction by overeating.

Said prix-fixe are a loving amalgam of things that Gabrielle Hamilton has been offering for years.  Where else but Prune would manti, succotash and pavlova exist so naturally side-by-side?  The rabbit in vinegar sauce was a favorite of Big-Eyed, Curvy Bombshell and Heathie, dearly missed migrated eaters. 

We were a little surprised that the place wasn't choked with like-minded offal-eaters; people gradually trickled in, many of them ordering whole bronzino and other treats from the regular menu. 

(Pictured above: Pink and in the foreground = Italian Greyhound  = grapefruit with vodka and rosemary; caramel in the background = Pimm's Cup = gin, ginger ale, cucumber and lime.)

SSFL and I clinked glasses and fell to the Calf's Brains Fritto Misto. 

No, it's not all brains...just the rounded nubbin at 12 o'clock, golden and crusty on the outside, creamy within.  Think fried oysters, or cream croquettes.  The brain brought fried companions of apple slices and cippolini onions, plus browned butter and capers for dipping and zinging.

It may look small, but it was a pretty rich plate of food, and SSFL and I found ourselves wishing for a lemon wedge or some malt vinegar to help break things up a bit.

Continuing the welcome onslaught of offal, Trippa Milanese with Gremolata, otherwise known as tripe braised in wine and vinegar:

(Spooning up braised tripe and tender vegetables.)

EF: This is...(Making smacking sounds.)

SSFL: ...really light!

It's true...and we be fans of tripe, so it caught us off-guard.  A lot of the time, tripe is treated with strong flavors, seemingly to mask any inherent stomach-y funk (see tripe parmigiana or menudo). 

Gabrielle's tripe was meltingly soft, and infused the whole stew with a gelatinous roundness that was distinctly but not overbearingly meaty, without a lick of funk.  It was like eating an unset bowl of aspic, in a good way--bright, rich, and clear. 

The Bitter Greens salad it came with was a little spartan, but once mixed into the tripe, they rubbed up against the smooth unctuousness of the stew nicely.  

Dessert?  Spot-on.  Anticipating diner fatigue, Prune wisely set before us ethereally light single-servings of Pavlova with Lemon Curd:

Meringue can be a sugary, styrofoam mess, but this baby was light-yet-chewy in the way that lightly caramelized sugar should be, and the portion size, lemon curd and fresh fruit helped to rein in any threat of oversweetness.  Kiwis and Aussies would be proud of this one!

Prune-detractors tend to harp on how little the menu rotates, how small the operation is, or how Hamilton has not chosen to expand her empire.  As I'm bathed in the well-being of well-made bovine naughty bits, good dinner company, cocktail glow, and tea lights reflecting off of clean white walls and polished antique mirrors, I say with perfect faith: Those marketchasing phucktards can screw off.  Don't fix what ain't broken. 

(Raising a glass to ten more years.)

Shoutout: Ryan Skeen's Allen & Delancey, LES, NYC

The youngest Effing BroBro just celebrated the anniversary of his hatching!  Since Baby Bro is a fan of Resto and Irving Mill, the newly rebooted Allen & Delancey with Sir Ryan Skeen at the helm seemed mui appropro for the occasion.

(Being that it was a family outing and that the lighting can only be described as shadow-puppet sexy, I didn't bust my camera out.) 

But if any of you out there were wondering about Skeen's new environs and vittles, rest assured that his latest move is a fortuitous one.  The broodingly-gritty-pretty downtown digs flatter Skeen's familiar and delicious fall menu, and the accomplished cocktail-craft going on at the bar is a cherry on the proverbial organ meat sundae.

We had:

Grilled Lamb Belly with Bibb Lettuce, Curried Almonds, Goat Cheese & Grapefruit: Served miniaturized saam-style, the gaminess of the tender meat and creamy cheese nicely spiked by grapefruit supremes. SOOO tasty.  (Hope they serve these at the bar!)

Shellfish Tagliollini with Cockles, Mussels, Shrimp, Sea Urchin & Bacon (pictured here, scrolling): The pasta ribbons were satisfyingly chewy-but-elastic, bathed in a salty pork/briny-sweet seafood broth that we lapped up like Gentile kittens.

Poached Halibut with Italian Olives, Artichoke Barigoule & Roasted Tomato: Buttery, savory, balanced not only in flavor but texture.  Pescetarians need not fear being shortchanged here.

Roasted Strip Loin with Heirloom Tomato Panzanella & Bone Marrow (pictured here, scrolling): Rock beats scissors, and steak beats fish.  The marrow was merely a helpful boost for a beautiful, charred piece of cow, and the crispy bits of tomato-bread salad were a welcome interjection.  (Volume-geared beefheads be warned--the steak is of the sliced-for-you, portioned variety.)

Chocolate Sponge Cake Creme Brulee: Not my favorite, but brilly idea--a ramkin half-filled with moistened chocolate sponge cake, and topped with creme brulee.  A cake-smuggling dessert device.

Panna Cotta Cake with Strawberries and Blueberries (pictured here): I liked this hybrid a better--'twas a milk cake with a layer of panna cotta on top and fresh berries artfully arranged over all.  So pretty, fresh, tinglingly tart and dairy-touched.  Effing BroBro and I only wished that the dessert chef would consider placing the cake in a milk puddle (a la tres leches cake) so the panna cotta and cake would merge a little more smoothly.

Boiled Critters, and Keeping the Faith: Crab Boil @ Back Forty, East Village, NYC

Food peeps are notoriously predictable in their calendar of coverage--Summer means lots of writing on barbecue, grilling and burgers.  Not JUST burgers...retro burgers!  Nuevo burgers! Retro-nuevo burgers, so that we may justify another year of reinventing burgers!  GAHHH! 

I like drippy burgers and BBQ.  I can chase banh mi and prose-like cocktails with the best of them.  But with blogs and pubs piping out fall trends (what shall we pickle and braise now???) it's hard to work up excitement over food and food coverage of late, and that includes my own.

And then it became obvious...who gives a sh*t??  Procrastination makes fools of us all (okay, ME) and I'm not going to let 'lil things like seasonal propriety keep me from telling you what you should've ate this summer...and can still eat, if you're not too busy trying to chase the newest stupid foodie craze.

Case in point: The Back Forty Crab Boil.  Logic dictates that piles of steaming blue crabs on newspaper go the way of flipflops and white linen past Labor Day...but why?

The Decapod Destroyer (dear friend, employer, and all-round seafood enthusiast) and I had caught wind of the boiled crab bonanza last year, but sadly missed the cutoff date.  This year, we were 2 crazed otters on a mission...which yielded 3 weeks of "sorry, seats are sold out" auto replies.  Cruel, cruel summer. 

Thanks to coverage from NYMag and buzz from last year's crab boil series, it was more challenging to get 2 seats at a communal table of crab slurpers than it was to get a table at FN Babbo or Per Se.

But all was not lost!  Back Forty (run by Peter Hoffman of Savoy) showed rare and admirable traits in the restaurant industry: Compassion, AND response to customer loyalty and demand.

Because I had played the online reservation lottery a few times, the restaurant had my email address; they took it upon themselves to contact me, announcing that in order to accommodate the overwhelming popularity of the crab dinners, they were setting aside 5 days of nothing but all crabs, all the time, with people who had been rejected as the key audience.

How AWESOME is that??? 

This restored my faith in humanity, in hospitality, and that's no overstatement.  After years of building up a thick dining skin in NY, tolerating sub-par entitled service, price gouging, and impossible booking practices, Hoffman reversed the tide with something simple, distinct, and priceless: You want crab.  We want to serve you crab.  So come and let us serve you crab.

And serve crab they will, every Tuesday until the end of the month, September 29th.  To book a table, please visit Back Forty's site for the rundown on the crab rezzy procedure. 

halfsteak @ craftsteak, Meatpacking District, NYC

I've never been any kind of fiscal shape to be eating at Tom Colicchio's craft or craftsteak, so when I caught wind of halfsteak (all lack of caps theirs) and their recession-friendly comfort-menu concept, I figured it was a good way to wade past my repeated positive experiences at 'wichcraft.

When The Man and I walked into halfsteak, Dos Mattys were busy charming the lovely crustacean-dismantling young lady manning the adjacent raw bar, as Mattys are wont to do.

We settled into the clean, modern lounge-ish area allocated to halfsteak, prattled, told inappropriate stories, and crafted an ordering strategy (again, as Mattys are wont to do).

We're not the kind of people who can say no to chicken liver mousse ($6), and nor should you be when it's this earthy-schmaltzy slathery-savory. 

My beef: The cheekily faux-rustic mason-jar presentation made the mousse hard to get at, and the teeny brioche toast points (too pathetic to be pictured) were too fay to be borne.  

Toast is cheap.  If you're selling us upscale-satisfying, toss toast points around with abandon, dammit.  Strike one.

Luckily, gorgeous (complimentary!) Parker House Rolls filled the mousse-to-face delivery void nicely:

Score one!

The interplay of the 2 aforementioned items pretty well sums up the minus-one, plus-one dynamic of this meal.  As soon as you were about to clap down your silverware for good, some kind of saving grace would swoop in and temper your out-and-out frustration.

In the category of "Good-to-Meh but Twee" (all $6.50):

 

I think these were billed as "Corn and Crab Fritters": Warm, crunchy, strangely absent of crab.  AKA hush puppies.  'Twould be a better choice if you were perched at a bar and you were looking to pass the time.  By yourself.

Item #2 for "Good-to-Meh but Twee": Smoked Chicken Wings with White BBQ Sauce.

 

The Man and Dos Mattys were into the smoky notes and the richness imparted by the mysterious "white BBQ sauce".  To me, they were tiny chicken wings covered in mayo.  I mean, teeny.  Like the kitchen was breaking down baby poulet or cornish game hens and tossed these underdeveloped birdie arm bits into a pile.  MEH.

Item #3 for "Good-to-Meh but Twee": Fried Oysters with Summer-Afflicted Slaw (wording mine, cannot remember the menu's slaw schtick):

 

Pretty, no?  But guess what!  SO.  SMALL.  Think of cornmealed Kumamotos.  Taste-wise, these elicited a table-wide shoulder shrug...and we be fans of most bivalves, raw, fried or otherwise.  Sadness.

But not all was lost, sports fans!  The two salads ordered ($8 each) were dressed with a light hand, and registered favorably with all four of us.

The Romaine with Truffled Pecorino and Creamy Garlic was a shining example of all a good caesar-like salad could be: Crisp, salty, unami-rich-yet-fresh.

The Baby Greens with Roasted Beets and Sherry Vinegar were a great foil to the romaine, pulling its weight on the sweet-tart-refreshing side of the salad spectrum.

Repeated beef: Like the toast, romaine and mesclun are subpennies in the kitchen stratosphere.  Adding another handful to each salad won't hurt your bottom line, and will keep your guests feeling less wary.  Just sayin'.

The Man seemed to really enjoy his Bacon and Soft-Shell Crab 'Po Boy ($12):

...all a-burstin' with deep fried critter!

Spicy Matty wanted to be in love with his Lamb Ribs with Cucumber Raita ($9.50):

 

...but alas, not even a big-hearted guy like Spicy Matty could use the word love on these spice-crusted babies.  They were plenty tender and seasoned, but for all that was going on, they just tasted...flat.

Luckily, we were able to buffer Spicy Matty's disappointment with lovely bits of steak.  Mild Matty and myself were impressed with halfsteak signature dish, The Half-Steak Frites ($14.50):

 

Ain't she a burnished beaut'?  Stippled with the requisite fat and minerally juiciness, you'd be hard-pressed to find another steak of this quality at this price.  Bulk-steak eaters may be wincing at the mention of a half a steak, but if you're a first-course grazer that requires dessert (like moi), the 6-ounce portion of aged strip steak and fries is just right. 

I Got a Pocket, Got a Pocketful of Tacos: Pinche Taqueria, NoHo, NYC

...not so much sunshine.  But tacos, tacos abound!

'Twas a damp, appointment-hopping day when I wandered past Pinche Taqueria more than a little peaked.  I'd eyed the tiny, wedged-shaped place dozens of times before darting into the Bleeker St. 6 train, and I'm surprised it took me this long to wheel around and give into cheekily-named taco exploration.

Individual tacos run in the $3-4 neighborhood, but, never a gal to turn down rice and beans, I went for a Combo #1 ($11.75 for 2 tacos, rice & beans and a drink sans beer) with one Taco al Pastor (taco-in-hiding pictured above) and one Taco de Carnitas (foreground taco).

The tortillas were pliant and fragrant, with just enough fortitude to deliver meat to trap.  The pork in both tacos was tender and flavorful, the mildly spicy al pastor dribbling red oil with each bite.  I settled into one of the tiny tables with my basket of goodies, staring back at spattered subway emergents as I tucked tacos into my face. 

Bánh Mì with a Silent "Meh": Baoguette, Murray Hill, NYC

There's been a lotta hoopla of late over bánh mì, and I suppose its time has come; they're an economical, multi-layered double-hand of temperatures and textures, at once refreshing and hearty.

For me, it's nostalgic, too--in harder times, when cooking wasn't always feasible, Momma Foodie (a single mom) would treat the Effing BroBros and I to a bagful of bánh mì for dinner. 

So I'll admit, I get persnickety about them, and despite Viet sandwicheries blooming across the boroughs like mushrooms after food marketing rain, it's a specialty that I have to hand over to the West Coast for dominance. (Like tacos.)

Don't get me wrong! I enjoyed Baoguette's bánh mì well enough, and at $5, it's a quality buy in NY.  The bread was warm, and since I'd opted "spicy" when asked, the cool pickles foiled well with the sliced jalapenos and highly seasoned crumbles of what I am assuming was terrine (it brought to mind uncased chorizo). 

Old Dogs, New Fish, and Cocktails on the Down-Low: Crif Dogs, Jimmy's No. 43, PDT (East Village, NYC)

When it's a sunny-but-not-TOO-sunny day in New York, it's hard to imagine voluntarily drinking in a bar that's dark before sundown.  But one late afternoon, Soft-Spoken Feisty Lady and I found ourselves traversing the basement stairs to the subterranean gloom of Jimmy's No. 43 for two good reasons:

1. Happy Hour Draft Specials (Daily, Noon - 6 PM), $4 American Microbrew Pints
2. New Catch Holland Herring from Russ & Daughters

There was a ton of press about these seasonal piscine visitors from the E.U.; worthy of festivals in their native Holland, herring are a definitive cornerstone of the Dutch diet, as readily available a street food as hot dogs are in NY.  New herring--the first catch of the spring--are especially cherished, eaten spanking-fresh and unadorned.

I'd just finished off a book about regional Dutch food and quirky herring eating procedures (AKA haringhappen), so I was eager to put all those diagrams of smiling, fish-gulping Dutch folk to good use.

C'mon.  There's nothing more appealing than a couple of chicks tossing back herring and beer like so much drunken, back-talking sea lion.

We went with one order of the "traditional-style" New Holland Herring ($7):

 

...which quickly became two orders (and would have multiplied to 3 had good graces and budget not intervened).  SSFL and I had no problem polishing ours off: Tilt your trap back, lower the fish into said trap by the tail, chew, order more.

Garnished minimally with chopped onion, these lightly cured fish were fatty, tender, and redolent of the sea--like giant, high-grade anchovies. 

Dutch Delight mentions that the new herring aren't raw "in the strictest sense": On the herring ships, they are immediately gutted, salted, and frozen.  So basically you've got curing and quick-freeze to buffer you against any narsty Baltic-borne parasites.

We also got the training-wheels version of the Holland Herring, perched atop ricotta and toast ($7):

Pretty, but we both felt the delivery mode sublimated the briny goodness of the herring.  Go hard or go home.

Woman cannot (afford to) survive on herring alone, so we gave into an order of Fraegola with Sugar Snap Peas, Mint, and Pecorino ($12?):

Simple, verdant, and definitely replicable in a home kitchen--I'd add a poached egg, but I tend to think everything needs an egg on top.  I wanted to think the mint helped us from walking out reeking entirely of fish and onions.

It may have still been light out when we emerged from Jimmy's, feeling happy and suitably appetized...but not full.  So we went in pursuit of vaguely less seasonal, basement-based prey:

That's a Spicy Redneck ($4.75), with a small (???) side of tater tots ($2.50), a la Crif Dawgs.

Spicy Redneck = Deep-Fried Hot Dog (Wrapped in Bacon) + Chili + Chopped Jalapenos + Cole Slaw

No worries, I've made peace with my maker.

Bring Me...The Plate: Daddy-O, West Village, NYC

Tripping on a good bar is one of the things I love best about NYC.  Granted, I was guided here by a roving group of revelers almost a year ago, but every time I've found myself in the neighborhood, this little place was just packed.

Daddy-O is a happy conglomeration of 3 things you almost NEVER see together in a Manhattan Bar anymore:

1. A long list of cocktails that are well-made and balanced, but not priced to the point where you'd have to call the barkeep a "mixologist".  Cheers!
2. A short menu packed with reasonably priced barfood that's tasty, filling, and skirts the line between gritty and precious.  It's a cheeky kinda greasy that's easy to love, and the kitchen is wide open until 4 AM.
3. A lit wall PACKED with brown liquor: If you're a whiskey whisperer, this little corner bar has got your back.  Aforementioned cocktails include commendable quaffables that embrace bourbon, scotch, and dark rum.

Soft-Spoken Feisty Lady and I wandered in around dinnertime on a Friday evening, during a rare, blessed lull, so our experience with the service is probably not what you're going to typically encounter.  Go early, or on an off-day, and you can expect a steady stream of libations and eats from laid-back-yet-attentive servers.

I've only heard about the legendary Garbage Plate of Rochester, but being that it shares the same basic dish-DNA as a plate lunch, it's a reference I've carried near my heart, and is on the list of roadfood goals (along with the original buffalo wings from Anchor Bar).

So when I glanced on an item called "The Plate" on Daddy-O's short menu, my Spidey-senses tingled.  We were in the presence of a homage to the Garbage Plate!  Granted, SSFL and I were supposed to be on our way elsewhere for dinner...

...but the power of The Plate could not be denied.

These Are a Few of My Faaavorite Things: Pulled Lamb & Mustard-Mash Naanini, Tabla Bread Bar, NYC

We're all creatures of habit.  Try as I might to keep the ordering continuum wide open for tasty new experiences, there are a few black holes that I'll always succumb to: At Tabla Bread Bar, it's the Pulled Lamb and Mustard-Mash Naanini.

I'm a big fan of the Bread Bar; this place ain't cheap, but if you're a boozehound that hates crowds, loves food, and has never understood why it's so hard to get Indian food and a good cocktail together, it's an FN godsend.

Please DO get yourself a cocktail.  Or three or four, as budget and responsibilities allow.  It doesn't matter which one, they're all incredibly well-balanced, and they all pair with the food like a charm.

Which brings us to the naanini; tender lamb and spiced, smooth potatoes on a pressed piping-fresh naan platform (and raita for dippin'), there's little more than a gal on an incidental drinking binge could ask for.  Gnaw, sip, hum to yourself: NAaaaaaaanknEEEEkneeee...

These Are a Few of My Faaavorite Things: Lox Benedict, Avi and David's, NYC

Being workaholic midtown bachelors, The Effing BroBros eat a lot of takeout. SeamlessWeb has a vested interest in keeping the EFB hungry and unwilling to cook.

And anyone who's trolled around on their lunch hour knows, there's a plethora of crap food in Manhattan's ramming-speed midsection.  SeamlessWeb may offer enough midtown delivery choices to make the heartiest glutton blush, but I'd venture to say about 70% is not worth eating, much less getting gouged over.

So, when the BroBros stumble over a restaurant that delivers more than condensation-soaked lies, they're uber-loyal repeat customers.  One Sunday morning fixation of theirs is Avi and David's Kosher Bagels.

(Single-subject-porkaphiles, step off now.  See you soon!)

I know, I know, Avi and David aren't on the consecrated list of what's-what in bagel lingo (i.e. they're not Zabar's or Murray's).  But they are marvelously consistent, with real homemade food that meets the standards of God's Chosen People!

We've been well-pleased by their standard-issue stuff--Challah French Toast with Berries, Bagels-with-a-Schmear--but on a recent lazy Sunday, an Effing BroBro and I opted to branch out and order some house specialties.

We were a little perplexed and mecha-intrigued by the description of "David's Bagel Lox Benedict" ($9.99): Toasted Bagel or Bialy, Nova-Scotia Salmon, Over Easy Egg with Scallion Cream Cheese, Garnished with Bermuda Onion.

Scallion cream cheese AND a oozy egg AND smoked salmon?  It had to be kosher, but it didn't sound kosher.