e a t e r y R O W

CAFE TAPEO
52 Fifth Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11217
(718) 638-1066‎

For the first time ever, Speeds suggested eating outside of her Chelsea neighborhood. Such a rare opportunity was not something that could be passed up and Park Slope was her destination of choice, a neighborhood I hadn't been to in quite some time.

I love Manhattan and miss living there. I love my neighborhood of Forest Hills and recommend it to everyone I know who's looking to move. But Park Slope is a great place. And there's a reason that it's one of the most popular neighborhoods in the city among people in my age bracket. Park Slope has managed to blend community with city in a way that few other places can claim to have been able to replicate. You may not know all of your neighbors, but this aura floats there that you probably could if you wanted to. Monuments, tree lined streets, and one of the best parks in the city draw swaths of the upper echelons of New Yorkers, while dozens of restaurants , bars, and quaint walk-up brownstones draw almost every college grad who doesn't have that Manhattan-or-bust mindset. If the upside of Park Slope is eating and drinking, it's downside is commuting and shopping. There aren't too many retail stores and the supermarkets are... weak. Plus, parking is truly awful.

Cafe Tapeo sits just near the the border of Boerum Hill right near the 2/3 subway stop and Flatbush Avenue. If Queens Boulevard is called the Boulevard of Death because of its volume of high speed traffic, than Flatbush must be the safest street of all time since the traffic can't move at all. I used to hate driving here and still do. It's nothing but double-parked delivery trucks and jerk-off gypsy cabs.

I arrived at Cafe Tapeo about a half hour before Speeds and Mr. Dogz showed up, so I grabbed a seat at the bar where I BSed with the cute bartender/waitress/hostess until they came. I had no idea that the Chimay beers I was ordering were $10 each. Keep that in mind y'all.

We started with an order of Mixed Marinated Olives and the Trio of Warm Grilled Pita Bread with Tzatziki, Skordalia, and Hummus, two great Mediterranean ways to filter the alcohol out of your system... or at least slow it down. The olives were slowly picked at over the course of the meal, but they were olives, nothing to write home about. Get 'em if you like 'em. Don't if you don't. As for the pita dish, the tzatziki dip was delicious, the hummus was quite good, and the skordalia (a lemony mashed potato) was okay. Note the descending order. Alongside these dishes came our orders of Patatas Bravas, a spicy fried potato dish served under a dollop of spicy aioli, and Turkish Cigars, a philo dough pastry filled with lamb, pine nuts and feta cheese. Both of these dishes were incredible, though Speeds felt that the patatas bravas was too spicy for her. Dogz and I didn't agree and ordered another round later on. My only complaint with the Turkish cigars was that we only got three of them. If I didn't have more food coming, I'd have ordered another of these as well.

We also ordered Grilled Baby Octopus in garlic and olive oil, which was good, but not great. The octopus itself was tender, but the sauce it was in derived the majority of its flavor from the peppers it was served with. In truth, if you didn't eat the octopus and the peppers at the same time, it was a rather bland dish. Dogz skipped the dish and Speeds agreed that it was tasty but nothing special. Since it was one of the most expensive tapas on the menu, we suggest getting something else that's better and cheaper. Dogz ordered the Paella de Verdura, a roasted vegetable paella that was heavy and spicy and full of huge chunks of roasted eggplant. I suppose that I would have loved for there to have been a great big hunk of lobster hiding in there, but this was great as it was. Lastly, Speeds ordered the Pumpkin Ravioli with Brown Butter, Mascarpone and Sage. While she and Dogz enjoyed the dish, they felt that the filling was so sweet that it could have doubled as a hot dessert. I was less enthusiastic. The filling was definitely a bit on the sweet side, but it was also dry instead of moist. But, since the ravioli were buried under so much sauce, I didn't even taste the filling the first time. I did however taste the sage, which was quite plentiful and powerful and bitter. I'd skip this plate.

Cafe Tapeo ran out of coffee by the time we ordered dessert, so Speeds ordered an Earl Grey tea and the Flan, which we were told was the secret recipe of the chef's grandmother. In that case, I can't possibly say anything bad about it. But actually, from the bite I stole, it was quite good. Speeds certainly thought so.

KAMBI
351 East 14th Street
New York, NY 10003
(212) 288-1366

I need to start limiting the time I spend on 14th Street. Maybe M can convince me to go to Brooklyn soon... I've been craving Arthur Avenue Italian... I found an amazing wine bar in Queens that I've been dying to write up...

In the meantime, strategizing exactly how to boycott this particular thoroughfare can get a guy hungry. Cold weather being soup weather, Kambi seemed like a natural destination to plot my next move. Plus, how many places in New York can you eat big bowls of noodles while French show tunes croon overhead? You can't argue with the surreal multicultural appeal of the whole experience.

Much like nearby Ramen Setagaya, Kambi is a ramen noodle house. Unlike Ramen Setagaya, it serves more than one type of ramen and the soups can be customized with sauces and your choice of noodles. Variety, according to William Cowper, is the spice of life.

But taste, I have found, is the spice of food (along with spice), and the taste of Kambi's ramen makes Ramen Setagaya's ramen taste like salty fish oil with noodles. I know that Ramen Setagaya is the preferred ramen noodle shop... according to people more important than I, but my ass will be finding its way to Kambi instead. The soup that I ordered, the Basic Pork Ramen, was far far far less salty and far far far less fishy.

The soup came with a few slabs of pork, a pile of scallions and mushrooms and half of an egg. Was it good? Yes. Was it amazing? No. The noodles were too al dente for my taste and could have used a few more minutes boiling in the pot. The pork was a little too fatty and the texture of the mushrooms were like sucking down shredded earthworm. Still, I enjoyed the soup enough to recommend it to those who want to give traditional Japanese soups a go. Midwesterners, this won't apply to you. My view falls somewhere in-between the two recent opinions of Eating In Translation ("not for me") and Sarah DiGregorio from the Village Voice ("I could drink a bowl of it every day").

I also ordered the Pork Gyoza. They had a seared crust on one side and were soft on the other, like a cross between fried and boiled. They were quite good and although given the length of time that passes between ordering and eating, I suggest that the hungry either get a round of gyoza or bring a Snickers bar.

NICK'S PIZZA
108-26 Ascan Avenue
Forest Hills, NY 11375
(718) 263-1126

I've neglected my domiciliary borough for quite some time. And what better way to get back to my blog's roots than by taking a quick little stop in at Nick's Pizza. especially since I was feeling mighty lazy this evening and didn't really want to travel more than a few blocks. Bro and I departed and, a few blocks later, lucked out by getting the last table open.

For the past who-knows-how-many years, Nick's Pizza has been considered the best pizza in Queens. Plenty of folks have argued that it could be considered the best in the city, if not for the fact that Queens is considered... uh... kinda lame. Even being named a New York Magazine Critics Pick hasn't drummed up too many reverse commutes. Unlucky them, more for us.

Nick's tall copper ceilings and photos circa the Great Depression hearken back to a time when Forest Hills began its tenure as the only swanky neighborhood outside of Manhattan with a subway line smack in the heart of it.

Bro ordered the plain pie and I went for one topped with fresh tomato and fresh garlic. Nick's also has a pretty good sized beer selection, so I grabbed a Brooklyn Lager while bro ordered a microbrew from California that I can't remember the name of.

Nick's isn't like most city pizza. It doesn't sell pizza by the slice, it doesn't crank out twenty plain pies that few toppings get tossed onto before being reheated. It doesn't deliver. Nick's is sort of haute pizza, if such a thing can exist. Pizza, salads, microbrews, and espressos. All of its thin-crusts come with a small touch of that brick oven burn people here love and a healthy dose of fresh basil. The sauce has a distinct bite to it that's instantly lets you know that this isn't something that they poured from a can. The mozzarella is a part of the pizza, rather than the only thing you taste. It's sparse and those who crave ooey-gooey pies where strings of cheese coat your chin can hit up a Papa Johns. But I suggest trying something new.

Nick's pies go for $16 for a large plain. Beers are roughly $4 each. You can leave home without your American Express. Nick's is cash only.

GEMMA
335 Bowery
New York, NY 10003
(212) 505-9100

Next, we went for an order of Chicken Liver Puree Crostini and Truffle Scented Mushroom Crostini. Speeds was not enamored by either, but I was by both. Crostini is toast with a topping and if you don't like that topping, you're probably ordering the wrong thing. For example, liver pates are an acquired taste... meaning that the first time you try it, you hate it, but you keep eating it because sophisticated people like it and you want to fit in. In this case, the liver was sweet with decidedly bitter aftertaste. It wasn't as dry as some pates are and there was a noticeable hint of garlic and pepper. Not that I have any idea what I'm talking about, but it wasn't bad. The mushroom crostini was excellent and I can't fathom why Speeds didn't like it. Delizioso.

For an entree, Speeds ordered the Artichoke, Parmigiano, Truffle Vinaigrette Salad. This isn't your typical salad. Speeds was expecting the artichoke to sit atop a bed of lettuce. Instead it was the lettuce. Never having been a salad guy ,I can't see ever myself ordering one for dinner if given the option and my sampling left me unimpressed. But she liked it and if this is your thing, then you'll probably like it too. For me, I opted for a pasta dish, the Papardelli with Oxtail Ragu. More tender than a Meg Ryan movie, you'd think that oxtail would pepper more menus. The sauce could have been more plentiful, and I can't give too many points for way it looked dumped onto the plate, but Italian restaurants aren't really known for their presentation. It was a delicious dish and I'm glad I didn't go the tried and true route of gnocchi... though there was a pork chop dish I was seriously considering. Next time.

Dessert time. Two coffees arrived, but that goes without saying. If I were a hiker, I'd probably fill my canteen with the stuff. Speeds ordered the Torta di Cioccolata, a warm chocolate cake with a vanilla gelato. I could set my watch to her dessert choices. If it's not chocolate, then it's tiramisu. If it's not tiramisu, then its chocolate. This cake was a variation of the lava cake, with a normal, brownie-like shell and a moist, gooey inside. I thought it was too dry for my liking, as dark, rich chocolate things usually are, but Speeds schooled me with a "what are you, crazy" look, and I proceeded to dig into my dessert, the Rice Pudding. Some rice puddings come in the soft variety, like a regular pudding. Some come like this one, like a cake. Gemma's rice pudding was served in a citrus glaze and walked the perfect line between sweet and sour. Speeds didn't like it. Whatever. She had her precious chocolate.

LE PETIT BELGE
22 East 14th Street
New York, NY 10003
(212) 807-7027

I'm finding myself on 14th Street more often these days than I ever thought. I'm either wandering the Farmer's Market or cruising the bargains at Filene's Basement, sitting in Union Square Park wondering what all these people are doing there in the middle of the afternoon or standing on line at Trader Joe's Wine. Somehow, I'm here all the time. In the course of these wanderings, I noticed a new little place, Le Petit Belge, occupying the spot where Tavalon Tea used to be. Since it was new, cheap, and I'm pretty sure that the logo is supposed to be Hercule Poirot, I knew I had to try their goods.

Le Petit Belge sells waffles and coffee. I was lucky when I went since there was no line, as usually there's a line to the door. In truth, this isn't hard. The space between the counter and the door is only about three feet. It's an extremely small space and if you think you can eat inside... think again. I ate at one of the two standing tables on the sidewalk. Luckily for me, it was warm enough to do so. Pretty soon, that option will go out the window.

The standard 6-inch Waffle is $3.50, but toppings can jump the price pretty quickly. I ordered my waffle with blackberries, fresh whipped cream and a dusting of powdered sugar. With a Cappuccino, I was looking at $8.75 before tax. Not terrible.

The waffle was incredible. Light and sweet, it was the physical manifestation of what a waffle's supposed to taste like. If you've been ingesting those horrid Eggo attempts at a waffle, I suggest you leggo. See what they're supposed to taste like. The only downside was that there were no knives when I was there and i was pretty much forced to tear the waffle apart with my fingers.

Since Le Petit Belge has a pastry selection, I also decided to try a Chocolate Croissant. I liked it a lot and wholly recommend it, but it was a little on the dense side and could have been lighter. I say this not being a croissant connoisseur. Those more in the know can add their two cents if they've tried it.

I returned with Bro today to try out some other toppings. He ordered his with raspberries and powdered sugar, and I tried caramel, kiwi, and powdered sugar. We they still good? Yep. And this time, I got a knife.

519 Sixth Avenue
New York, NY 10011
(212) 242-5800

Organic food, in the last few years, has become a multi-billion dollar industry. One would think that some entrepreneurial soul would open a restaurant for holistic types who fear hormones more that a lobster fears butter. Wait! There us such a place; an organic-only foodery where carnivores and vegans alike can coalesce in culinary unison.



Seth, in the city on business and in dire need of warm food and my futon, met me in midtown where we decided to traverse southward looking at menus while I blathered on ad nauseum about my recently atrocious dating life. Frankly, all I wanted was a drink and really good food. Passable wasn't gonna cut it. Two miles later, we walked into Gusto.



We sat by the window in Gustos ultra-high-backed chairs. They were perfect for those winter nights when you're wearing a long coat. That said, it's to bad that the window was so drafty. I suggest that you pick a less drafty table unless you're wearing something warm.

Even the drinks at Gusto are organic. Organic beer, organic wine, organic cocktails. Organic shots are $8 each. At that price, I suggest that you savor every drop rather than line them up frat house style. Seth got an organic pale ale and I got an organic cocktail, a Caipiroska. Actually, I ordered two because the egg-shaped glass was actually plastic and, before I could take so much as a single sip, slipped out of my hand and was lost to the table. The staff at Gusto were nice enough not to charge me for a replacement. We followed these up with two more beers later on.

Seth skipped getting an appetizer, but that doesn't help you readers at all... plus I was starving... so I ordered the Empenada de Carne, a ground beef empanada. A single, lonely ground beef empanada. A single, lonely, delicious ground beef empanada. If you like your empanadas greaseless and sweet, soft but still crisp, then this is something you simply must order. I wish there were more of them. I wish there were ten.



Both Seth and I did the unthinkable and ordered specials rather than something off the menu. But I get the impression that the menu changes frequently. So, whatever. Ask for these dishes, you won't regret it. Seth ordered the Pasta Special, which is a fancy-schmancy way of saying penne alle vodka with asparagus and chicken. Al dente, sweet, smooth. Delicious. But not as delicious as mine, the Pumpkin Gnocci with Walnuts, which was incredible. Alas, the portion was rather small (good for my gut, bad for my tongue). Possibly the best gnocchi I've had in who knows how long and next time I might order two (bad for my gut, good for my tongue). In fact, I might ask for it even if it isn't on the menu.

After dinner, the meal slid a wee bit downhill. I ordered a coffee and Chocolate Ice Cream. The coffee bordered on terrible and the ice cream had the consistency of dust bunnies. It was clearly homemade. It didn't taste "bad" but if you're used to Edy's or Ben & Jerry's and like your ice cream creamy and butt cheek smooth, then skip it and get something else. However, that something else should not be the Tirmisu, a cake that looked far better than it tasted. Too moist, too syrupy. Seth liked it more than I did, but it didn't floor him and he rated it by simply shrugging his shoulders and grunting. Lastly, the tea. While I would certainly expect an organic restaurant to serve loose tea over bagged tea, I would not expect said loose tea to be served in a wasteful disposable paper contraption instead of a washable metal strainer. I mean, look at that thing. It just screams landfill.



One cocktail, three beers, one appetizer, two entree, one coffee, one tea, and two desserts came to $95 even, tax and tip not included.

DEATH & COMPANY
433 East 6th Street
New York, NY 10009
(212) 388-0882

I've found myself addicted to cocktails. I'll be at Strand pouring through cocktail guides, trying to find one that fits the "home bar" I made in the corner of my living room. And to continue that train of thought, I made a home-bar in the corner of my living room. Once upon a time, I couldn't have cared less. I thought that alcohol was just for those with nothing else to do. I thought that drinking just to get drunk was a waste of precious booze. But now I know that there's a time and there's a place where I can choose to walk the fine line between self-control and self-abuse.

Continuing my slow (and none-too-cheap) crawl across the city searching for good cocktails, I found myself at Death & Company, a bar which either has the coolest name ever, or the most pretentious. I'll go with cool. Situated smack in the middle of the 6th Street between First Avenue and Avenue A, if you don't know it's there, you'll walk right by. Hell, I know it's there and I still miss it. Fear not, dear traveller, there's a sign. Sort of. It's really more of an unlit carved wooden plaque that hopefully no one will be standing in front of at the moment you need it.

Death & Company does not take reservations; you just have to hope for a seat. Unlike at Pegu Club, standing at the bar isn't allowed. This ain't no meat market bar. If there aren't any seats, just give the guy at the door your cell phone number and he'll call you. Or prop yourself up against that carved wooden plaque and wait.

Death & Company has a small plates menu for those feeling a might but peckish, but I've never ordered the food here, instead choosing to stick to their libations. One very nice thing about Death & Company is that their menu is both larger than most others, as well as more traditional. In other words, you'll see something on it that you might have liked elsewhere, like a daiquiri (The Classic Daiquiri) or a mint julep (The Classic Julep), and then find variations on that theme, rather than some bizarre concoction, half of whose ingredients you've never heard of. In that sense, Death & Company possibly the perfect cocktail lounge for cocktail-scene newbies. You can order something unique, knowing that if you don't like it, you can fall back on an oldie but a goodie without fearing that the bartender will sneer at you while muttering "plebeian".

All of my drinks have been tasty, and if they weren't so damned expensive and the wait so damned long (expect to wait half an hour to an hour Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights), I'd be coming back again and again, working my way through the menu. In addition to the two "classics" above, I can recommend The Green Mile, if you like citrusy licorice, and The Spicy Paloma, if you like spicy. It's certainly an acquired taste, but by the bottom of the glass, I acquired it.

14 Elizabeth Street
New York, NY 10013
(212) 619-0085

Zagat ranks Oriental Garden as among the best Chinese restaurants in New York City, and ranks it as the best Chinese restaurant in Chinatown. And once you couple the word "best" with "cheap", it was hard to keep Myself, Pike, Bossette, and Shoulders from boarding that slow boat.

The walk to Oriental Garden from the Canal Street subway stop this brisk fall evening was pleasantly tourist-free. Pike and I arrived early and pretty much loitered on Elizabeth Street, shooting the breeze and pacing, looking like a pair of plain-clothed vice cops. It gave me an opportunity to absorb the immediate neighborhood. To put it diplomatically, Chinatown needs to hire a maid service. To be blunt, Chinatown is filthy. The streets reek of rotting fish; garbage bags are piled chest high every fifteen feet; the volume of litter is mind-boggling; the place is always wet and stagnant puddles of random liquid exist no matter how hot and dry the season; if the garbage strike in Naples spreads to New York, the residents of Chinatown will be the last to notice.

Pike and I, tired of waiting outside for Bossette and Shoulders to grace us with their presence, decided to just go in and get us a table. The first thing you notice are the large tanks filled with crabs just waiting to meet their end. The next thing was the unmistakable and unpleasant odor of boiled cabbage. I got used to it and drank my green tea.

We were seated right away at nice, large table meant either for eight normal people or four people who were about to go to town on the menu.

We had two waiters. Waiter One was, quite frankly, an asshole. He tried to rush us through our ordering, he had a generally poor attitude, and Bossette says that he gave her a couple of dirty looks. Waiter Two replaced Waiter One once the food was ordered and he was a noticeable improvement. Polite, helpful, and pleasant to be around, he was the one we ended up leaving a tip for. There was also Waiter Three, but the only contact that our group had with him was when he obliviously belched in my face as I walked past him from the front door.

Remember how I said that Oriental Garden was cheap? Well, it is. But it can also get pretty expensive if you want it to. For example, a bowl of shark fin soup was $88. Take THAT Per Se! As perhaps evidenced by the soup or the huge crab tanks, Oriental Garden is normally known for its seafood, but we stuck with the turf side of the menu. Not that we were avoiding it, we just weren't in the mood.



The only dishes we didn't share were the soups. Bossette and I ordered the Hot and Sour Soup, and while we both liked it, honesty compels me to say that it tasted no better (or worse) than what I could have ordered at the local Chinese place around the corner from my apartment that has free delivery ($10 minimum order). Shoulders ordered the Egg Drop Soup and enjoyed it, but as with our opinions of the hot and sour soup, it didn't amaze him. Pike ordered the Wonton Egg Drop Soup, which is pretty much what Shoulders ordered with some wantons tossed in, and didn't care for it. Moral of the story, skip the generic soups and go for something different, or go straight into the solid food.

Okay, the solid food. First to come were Steamed Chicken Dumblings. Blatantly sloppy typos aside, these chicken dumplings were incredible. They just exploded in flavor. I could have eaten an entire meal of them. Up next were the Steamed Vegetable Dumblings (no, I will not stop) which, while also good, were less so. Shoulders felt that the vegetables contained within lacked a certain crunch and were too mushy, as though they had been over-steamed. We followed these two up with the Shrimp and Pork Dumblings, a steamed pork dumpling with a steamed shrimp embedded in the top of it. Pike disagrees with me on this, but I was simply not impressed with them. Finally came an order of the Deep Fried Shrimp Balls, which were very good, especially when dipped in their sauce. Picture a small ball of shredded shrimp inside of a small, hard batter shell. If I was going to pick a shrimp-based appetizer to recommend, it would have to be this one. I don't feel like the pork and the shrimp worked well together. At least not steamed and wrapped in dough.

Entrees at Oriental Garden are served family-style and each comes with it's own support staff of small plates for division betwixt the diners. The first such entree was the Half Roast Peking Duck, served with hoisin sauce, sliced cucumber and sliced scallion which you place in a soft, flat bun and eat taco-style. Delicious. Possibly the best part of the meal. The only annoyance to the dish were the bones, of which there were many, so a little plate had to be used to collect them all. Ducks are a bird known 'round the world not only for their belligerence and short tempers, but for their fattiness. There's a lot of it, at least usually, and it takes someone who knows what he's doing to thin it down. Oriental Garden's chef managed, through his obvious skill here, to get rid of almost all of the fat from the meat. We also ordered the Diced Chicken and Cashew Nuts, but that wasn't quite so good. It wasn't bad, but it was sorta bland and you better like peas because it's loaded with them. Up against the duck, there's no contest.

Likewise was the third dish to show up, Beef with Hot Garlic Sauce. Again, not bad, but nothing to write home about, either. It felt like a generic beef dish with sliced peppers that I could get anywhere. Plus, I don't know where the "hot" came from, because this just wasn't a spicy entree. Redemption arrived in the form of the final plate, Cantonese Style Filleted Steak, served with carrots and huge chunks of broccoli. If you're the kind of person who stares at the menu of a Chinese restaurant only to order sesame chicken every time, you'll like this. The sauce was sweet and the beef was moist and eat-with-a-spoon tender. Very very good, on the borderline of excellent, and if I return, I'll probably order this again... if I don't get the crab. The only downside to the dish were the broccoli and carrots, which were more for garnish than anything else and were a bit undercooked.

So what's the verdict? I liked Oriental Garden. Most of the food really was very good, even if not necessarily original and with a few misses thrown in. The portions are large and the communal atmosphere is great. You'll be hard pressed to beat the price, and if you can put up with the attitude of Waiter One or the noises coming out of Waiter Three, you'll have a good time.

Four sodas, one beer, four soups, four appetizers, and four entrees, plus tax and tip totaled $168. Oriental Garden takes cash or American Express only.