e a t e r y R O W

DOS TOROS vs. TRES CARNES

• DOS TOROS TAQUERIA • 137 Fourth Avenue • New York, NY 10003 • (212) 677-7300

• TRES CARNES • 688 Avenue of the Americas • New York, NY 10010 • (212) 989-8737 •

Tacos. They're a thing. Modern, chic tacos have taken center stage and pushed the old image of tacos to the wayside. Taco Bell doesn't sell tacos, they sell food that you eat while stoned off your gourd at midnight. Old El Paso doesn't sell taco kits, they sell a stereotype. They sell the food that dad makes to proves that he's more fun than stodgy, eat-your-vegetables mom. But times have changed. These days, tacos are made fresh. They aren't healthy, but they don't conjure up the same pre-diabetic images as traditional fast food. Gone is the hard shell. Gone is the dry ground beef and refried beans. Gone is the cheap price tag.

There's a taco cart that I walk past every day on my way home when I get out of the subway. It's fantastic. Fresh meat, fresh vegetables, a hot sauce that will put hair on the chest of a gorilla. Mere taco cart that it is, they still want three bucks per taco. So should I have been terribly surprised when I walked into Dos Toros near Union Square and saw that they wanted around $4.50?

Dos Toros and Tres Carnes. Upper-echelon, semi-fast food, quasi-tredy, taqueria mini-chains that compete primarily with Chipotle and presumably are less likely to remind you of that cruise you took where you got quarantined. I walked into Dos Toros for a late lunch, claimed a tall table, and dropped $20 and change on four tacos and a cheap can of Tecate. "Teck-AH-tay" the cashier corrected me. "Teckahtay" I repeated and sat down with my awkward plastic baskets. Two of the tacos were Carnitas - roast pork, and two were Carne Asada, aka, beef. The tacos, for all I just talked about how high up the fast food chain that tacos have climbed, were disappointingly cheap. They offered me guacamole, which I declined, but the tacos had diced tomato, shredded lettuce, sour cream, and the meat was, alas, sorta dry.

Tres Carnes is more Tex than Mex, and makes its tacos with smokey barbecued meat. Of the tres carnes offered, I tried dos of them, Smoked Chicken and Smoked Barbecued Brisket. "That Diet Coke won't do you much good" said the girl behind the counter. Truth be told, there wasn't much to taste anyway. Tres Carnes makes its tacos as though they're miniature burritos (there are burritos on the menu, too), and load them with rice and beans and squash. It's an interesting twist, but the tacos can't close so one bite causes them to fall apart all over the plate. The barbecue and beans keeps the taco more moist than the Dos Toros one, but the meat gets buried in there deep enough to be slightly lost. Tres Carnes isn't cheap, either. $9-$11 per pair, depending on the meat, and some fillings are extra.

EMA DATSI • 67-21 Woodside Avenue • Woodside, NY 11377 • (718) 458-8588 •

The thing about Queens, which you see bantered about every time a major publication talks about eating in Queens, is that whatever food you want, it's here. Literally. Every nation in the world has a restaurant here. Ema Datsi serves Bhutanese food. It's probably not the first thing you think of when you get an email from Seamless telling you that they'll give you 15% your next meal, but it probably should be.

Ema Datsi is the kind of place you'd walk past without giving a second glance to. It's nondescript and, looking inside, comes across as a low-rent joint. But here, looks can be deceiving. I picked up Mr. Dogz and Doc and we found our way to the corner table of this Woodside establishment. Above us, a television was playing untiss-untiss-untiss club scenes from a rave. Thousands of co-eds in tight t-shirts were dancing and screaming to the electronica. Behind us, a father of three stared in a trance while his kids scarfed down bowls of soup. By the window, a table of five received a plate of rice so big that you could carve a turkey on it. The menu all but topped out at $10 a plate.

Ema Datsi serves three kinds of food. Bhutanese, Indian, and Tibetan We came for the stuff we can't get on a thousand other streets, so we stuck with Bhutanese. You probably don't know where Bhutan is, so here's a Wikipedia link. It's basically right next to Nepal, north of India. If the entrees are cheap, the appetizers are all but free. We started with Cauliflower Dry (Ema Datsi isn't big on names), a plate of spiced, lightly fried cauliflower with sauteed scallions and onion, because Doc's a vegetarian. It was delicious. Each piece had a hint of crunch with a soft, smooth center. Dogz and I, wanting a bit of meat, ordered the Pepper Chicken Dry, diced chicken with onion, green pepper, and chili peppers in a very spiced (but not hot) sauce. Also very good, but somewhat lighter in flavor than the cauliflower. I never thought that cauliflower would have more taste than meat, even chicken, but there it is. Mind you, this changes once you load your fork with onion and pepper, which you should do.

The entrees began when the waiter brought us each a bowl of seaweed soup. Perhaps you like seaweed. I do not. I took a few sips to remind myself why I disliked seaweed soup, and that was it. Doc's entree was the Kewa Datsi, a potato and pepper dish in a cheese sauce. It was good, and I'm guessing it's authentic because literally, we were the only white people here. They weren't paying rent with Americanized versions of Bhutanese food. But it was like potatoes in a spicy Velveeta sauce. I'm not kidding. Throw in some macaroni and some breadcrumbs and we could see this on a hipster menu without thinking twice. My entree was the Nor Sha Paa Thali (Fresh Beef with String Beans). And that's what it was. Beef strips, with string beans, with some peppers. Along with the little bowl of protein came a bit of rice (the same rice that the other table ordered seven pounds of) a little dab of the herbal cheese, and a bowl of  a second kind of soup, this one far far far superior to the seaweed one. A rich potato chowder. Fantastic. I inhaled it in maybe three sips. Sha Kam Datsi Thali (Dry Beef with Cheese) was Dogz's entree. The best way to describe it would be to combine my beef dish with the sauce from Doc's potato cheese dish, swapping out the string beans for green pepper. This was better than mine. The regular "fresh" beef was kind of plain (would yak meat be better? Hmmmm...), but take that meat and smother it in a rich cheese sauce, and there's a Wisconsinite tourist bus heading over the Queensboro Bridge faster than you can say "Scott Walker". None of these dishes were particularly hot, even though we were told that they were and I specifically requested hot, so that was disappointing. But I'd go back. Maybe next time, they'll toss in a few more peppers.

THE SMITH • 55 Third Avenue • New York, NY 10003 • (212) 420-9800 •

"It's where the cool people brunch" someone once told me about The Smith. Well, I explained to her, I don't blog about brunch. That's for the restaurant blogs written by the high heel set. I do dinner, drinks, the occasional sandwich. "It's too far away." You live in Manhattan, I said. You even have a car. "I don't wanna go. Let's get dinner in Meatpacking." I hate Meatpacking. It's filled with transient vermin. "How about Chelsea?" In the end, we went somewhere near Madison Square Park and I wound up going to The Smith with Bro and his girlfriend, Nunu.

Bro was in a foul mood. It seems that the friends he was planning to see before meeting me pulled a few too many schedule changes at the last minute and, good friend that he is, held in his rage rather than throwing up his hands with a great big "to hell with this!". Luckily, one of the things that The Smith does well is cocktails and once he'd sucked one down, calmness ensued.

The Smith is one of the more popular of the generation of NYC restaurants that evolved out of the speakeasy scene. Lots of cocktails and lots of wood contrast with the industrial lamps and white tile walls. It's like eating on a renovated subway platform from the 1940s. The place, at 7 on a weekend, was crowded, but not such that I wasn't able to get a reservation or find a spot at the bar to wait for Bro and Nunu. It's a little loud and the food is standard American comfort food, by and large. Burgers, pot pie, mac and cheese - standard gastropub; no groundbreaking menus here - so maybe it shouldn't be a shock that there were a fair number of kids. I guess that if mom and dad want a drink, and the kids want a burger, and nobody wants boring, The Smith is a pretty good choice.

Nunu and I split a quick starter, sharing a half dozen Oysters. The selection varies by what's available and they basically had three to choose from. Small, medium, and large. That's literally the extent of my oyster knowledge. I should take a tasting class. We went with for the Goldilocks option and neither complained. I also ordered an appetizer. A nice healthy Kale and Quinoa salad, topped with dried cherry, ricotta, and almonds. In a few months, scientists will discover that kale and quinoa is somehow deadly, but for the moment, I basked in my seemingly healthy decision. It was a good salad. Hipsters, for as much as people love to denigrate them, hit this one on the head. 

Nunu ordered the Seared Tuna, served over sunchokes, mushroom, and spinach. I didn't end up trying it, but she said it was very very good and I'll take her word for it. Bro ordered the Tagliatelle, made with black pasta, shrimp, and scallion. This entree I did get to try and it was delicious. So filled with flavor. So smooth. I've been a big one for shrimp and pasta, but this really was incredibly good. Bro was the winner this night. He was also the loser, having ordered a side of Sicilian Cauliflower, which was all but inedible. I don't know who decided that drowning cauliflower in vinegar was a good idea, but he needs a stern talking to. My entree was the Chicken Pot Pie, a favorite dating back to colonial days when road weary travelers would come arrive at the inn in need of a warm meal, a pint of stout, and sturdy chair upon which to sit. This one came with a cheesy crust. Cheddar, specifically. I don't know that making the crust with cheese did anything other than differentiate it slightly from your average Joe pot pie, but it was indeed a fine pot pie with lots of thick vegetables, big hunks of chicken, but eat it slowly. It's boiling hot inside that shell. I learned that the hard way. Or maybe it was the very easy way.

We couldn't really get interested in the dessert list, which was exactly what you'd expect it to be. Ice creams, chocolate cake, some sort of apple pie/crumble/strudel... So we decided to get that someplace else (although in the end we actually just walked into a supermarket to get coffee beans for the morning and completely forgot about dessert). 

The Smith was fun. It wasn't too crowded. Entrees average $25 so while it's not cheap, it's not too badly priced. The service was very good. The was no age group that it seemed to cater to specifically. The food and drinks were good. If I was meeting someone who was a picky, not-very-adventurous eater who wanted to go someplace that was hip without being pretentious, or if you're just in the mood for comfort food, The Smith would be a good, safe choice.

Two appetizers, three entrees, a side, and a couple rounds of drinks came to about $180 before tax and tip. So $60 per person on average. There are two other locations. One is in Midtown East, and the other is near Lincoln Center.

BEAUTIQUE

8 West 58th Street

New York, NY 10019

• (212) 753-1200

If an expensive prostitute was a restaurant, she'd be Beautique. It's seductive, makes you feel sexy, is wrapped in velvet lingerie, is mostly fake, attracts businessmen, being inside costs a lot of money, and at no point will it be the best you've ever had.

Entering Beautique means walking in past the first of many characters pulled straight from central casting, a bouncer/doorman/linebacker, down a flight of mirrored stairs stolen from a Russian oligarch's yacht, into a loungey dining room filled mostly with men in suits talking about money or sports. The bartender occupied his time wiping glasses with a white napkin, Love Boat style. He was either extremely devout about keeping his glasses spotless or was ignoring me. I'm going with the latter. No way was I willing to cough up $19 for a martini, so I nursed a beer and took in the atmosphere while I waited for the arrival of Sparkles. Beside me sat a middle-aged woman, well into her second glass of wine. "I mean really! Look at this!" she said to her friend, pointing with not a little disgust at the fraying cushion of a bar stool. "This is unacceptable." 

Once it dawned on us that we were at a theme restaurant, Sparkles and I thoroughly got a kick out of the place. Our waiter was had a French accent so thick that he could make "rancid scallops served in a sewage broth" sound appealing. It almost didn't matter that he wasn't a very good waiter, dropping forks and getting the wine order wrong, because he was such a fun character. This was a show.

Every time I tried, a waiter walked by.

Sparkles ordered the Red and Yellow Beet Salad, lightly seasoned beets over a yogurt creme. What did the waiter think? "Eet eez amazeeng." I chose the Beautique Salad, radicchio, endive, Gorgonzola, candied pecans, apples, and figs. The sweetness of the figs and apples and candied pecans worked well with the bitterness of the radicchio and endive. I liked it more than Sparkles did and I don't know that I'd order it again, but it felt healthy and it certainly wasn't awful. We both enjoyed the beet salad and decided, for no real reason, to order a third appetizer to share, the 18 Month Prosciutto Di Parma & Burrata. A plate of meat. A slab of cheese. Some overly toasted bread. Did we enjoy it? Sure. Was this prosciutto better than other prosciutto I've had? Not really.

For her entree, Sparkles asked for the Branzino, served with leek, artichoke, and potato. "Amazeeng." I ordered the Chef's Beef Cut of the Day. What kind of steak is the cut of the day, we asked. "Beef. Eez delicious." Sparkles and I looked at each other. Yes, but the cut? "Eez like a filet, but not. Eez regular. And we slice for you. You weel love it." It arrived over a bed of corn, mushroom with an au jus sauce for dipping. It was fine, but not more than fine. The meat was particularly tough and I found myself fantasizing out loud about Morton's. The Branzino was much better. Crispy skin, very light. At the table next to us sat a couple who saw me snapping pics of the food. The couple had both ordered the Chicken entree, a skin-on breast with vegetables and a pea-puree. Once I mentioned the blog, the woman lit up. "Take a photo of my chicken! Want a bite? You should have a bite." Yes. Yes, I in fact did want a bite. Very much. But I held back and I will take her word that it was quite tasty.

Desserts usually stink, but this one, the Oreo Cheesecake with Oreo ice cream, was pretty good. Sure, it's small and I've had creamier cheesecakes, but it meant that you didn't leave feeling like you were about to explode.

Up to this point, Sparkles and I were had genuinely enjoyed our time at Beautique. It was a fun theme restaurant, where the theme is sugar daddy fakery; an over-the-top cliche of style over substance. Then the manager (or at least someone I assume was the manager) came up to me and broke one of the cardinal rules of being a business. Don't be an asshole to your customers. See, this whole time, I had taken Beautique to have been a gilded lily. I had assumed that it was in on the joke, a winking participant in the gag of excessive excess. That's why the average food and mediocre service was acceptable.

But no. The escort in the Prada gown confused herself with the socialite. Beautique had been taking itself seriously the whole time. As though dressing up as an admiral meant that one could automatically command an aircraft carrier, Beautique thought by putting on the uniform of a classy restaurant, that it somehow actually became one. That seriousness became apparent on my walk upstairs to the street when that manager sternly insisted that I delete all of the photos I'd taken of my meal.

JOE'S SHANGHAI

136-21 37th Avenue

Flushing, NY 11354

 (718) 539-3838

Flushing. I seem to be eating there a lot lately, but I had yet to go there for the real reason Flushing was built in the first place. Soup dumplings. Yup. Who'd'a thunk? And for soup dumplings did Pike and I go to Joe's Shanghai. It turns out, that's the best reason. They have a full menu with dozens of non-soup dumpling offerings, but I wouldn't bother. Why do I say that? Because I bothered.

Like many Chinese restaurants that are "authentic", the interior of Joe's Shanghai is spartan. Tables, chairs, hustle and bustle... there's probably even one of those waving cat things in a corner somewhere. Clearly, at no point in time did the owner even consider hiring an interior designer. Why would they? The competition didn't. Pike and I drove and parked in the garage across the street. Five bucks. It's literally less expensive that taking the bus. We were given a table, the waiter tossed us a few menus, and ran off to get yelled at.

Of course, the first thing we did was order the Crab Dumplings and the Pork Dumplings, like literally every other table did. They're steamed and boiling hot and delicious. "Can you tell the difference between these?" Pike asked. I could, but just barely. They were painfully similar, thanks in large part to the seasoned broth, but the pork was a bit more neutral, a bit less seafoody, a bit more savory. That isn't to say that I was disappointed with the crab option, but if it came down to the two, I'd choose the pork.

As an additional appetizer, I ordered the Hong Kong Style Hot and Sour Soup. To this day, the best hot and sour soup I can remember is from Vegetarian Dim Sum House in Chinatown. The runner up is the takeout place around the corner from me. Joe's Shanghai's variant was somewhere further down the rankings, but was pretty good overall. I've definitely had worse. I think that come winter, I'd like to return and get it again. Pike ordered the Scallion Pancakes and they were extremely disappointing. Tasteless, far too crispy, and drenched in oil. Grease toast would be an accurate description.

Pike's entree was the Sauteed Shrimp and Hunan Pork. This Chinese surf-and-turf was both hit and miss. The hit part was the pork. It was rich and thick and quite good. The miss was the shrimp, which had almost no flavor at all comparatively. Serving it with peas and steamed broccoli didn't pump up the wow factor either. I ordered the Szechuan Beef with Bean Curd. Basically, this was shredded beef in a thick gravy with huge slabs of tofu. It wasn't what I expected, but they didn't skimp on the portions. I didn't hate it, but I didn't love it. I took the vast majority of it home for dinner the next day and found that it tasted better eaten cold with a beer on my sofa.

Well, I enjoyed Joe's Shanghai, and I'm sure as hell coming back this winter for the dumplings, but the rest of the food was lackluster, if not disappointing. "No one ever came here for the regular menu" Pike quipped as we walked out and headed back to the garage.

The U.S. Open Food Tasting Preview 2015

If you plan to be at the U.S. Open this week, you should know what you're putting in your stomach. To help you with that, the fine people at the open invited me over to Arthur Ashe Stadium,  had me listen to a short, yet interminably long Q&A with celebrity chefs, and then sat me down and stuffed me with food, sampling the fare that you and all of the other high rollers in the club box will get to eat. No Auntie Anne's for us.

Tony Mantuano churned out Avocado Toast with pistachio and pepper alongside Tomato Bread with serrano ham and manchego cheese. There was Lobster Burrata with pickled eggplant and basil, Beef Tartare with capers, and Cassarecci, a squid ink pasta with shimp and scallops courtesy of Champions Restaurant. Chef Morimoto, as per tradition, made the sushi. Aces Restaurant provided Portobella Fries with a ponzo dipping sauce, Salmon Crudo with watercress and cucumber, and Jumbo Lump Crab Cakes. Richard Sandoval made Baja Fish Tacos and Shredded Chicken Tacos along with his Maya Chopped Salad, a lettuce, tomato, and corn salad topped with grilled marinated steak. There was steak by Pat LaFrieda, brisket by Hill Country Barbecue. Food Trucks are in vogue these days, and the Sweet Chili food truck gave us a nicely spicy Honey Chili Pork while the Morris Grilled Cheese Truck showcased a Cheddar grilled cheese sandwich and a Gouda with Herb Butter and Bacon grilled cheese sandwich. Un-named heroes made Lobster Rolls and Banana Nutella Crepes.