Best of Manhattan 2002: Eats & Drinks
They Hit the Snail Right on the Head. The French, for all their faults, have one endearing quality, and that's their ability to make little garden animals taste good. Properly sauced, muddy frogs become a national delicacy. Cute ortolans are gobbled in a single bite. And of course only a Frenchman would think of taking a snail and make it walk the plank into a boiling pool of butter, leaving him to drown among a flotsam of garlic, shallots and parsley. When done right, the results are rapturous.
Best Reason To Get Out of Bed
Griddle Me This. You could stay in your cotton blanky cocoon, propped up on pillows, with the endless September Vogue and W close at hand. But if you consider the thick batter rising on Bright Food's griddle while you lollygag, you probably won't. Their eggy cornmeal pecan griddlecakes ($7.50) might hide hot exploded blueberries, depending on the season, and are served with pitchers of real maple syrup.
Best New Tribeca Restaurant
Instant Institution. It's a stark reality that any number of restaurant venues in Manhattan are haunted. Every year, a hopeful and ambitious entrepreneur tries his or her luck in a spot that's known nothing but failure. Most don't succeed.
The menu changes weekly, according to the availability of fish, but never varies in quality. Late in the summer we had softshell crabs?which will soon disappear from the long list of selections?that approached those served in Maryland kitchens. Better yet was the box of fried Ipswich clams, fat bellies and all, that would meet approval with the most critical New Englanders. We also devoured a lobster roll?described as "a JFK favorite," which is typical of the restaurant's preciousness, a tic that's overcome by the sheer quality of the food.
Also recommended are the steamers, clam chowder, a sensational gazpacho with chunks of crabmeat, gravlax, roasted blue tile fish and a simple flounder with jasmine rice in a ginger soy broth.
We'll see what winter holds for Burge, but if Fresh's stunning opening is any indication, Tribeca has added yet another outstanding restaurant to the neighborhood.
Best British Dessert to Go
Gives Us a Shit-Eating Grin. Remember the floating log from Caddyshack? That's exactly what this thing looks like. Disgusting? Yeah, disgusting. How disgusting? Like-it-backed-out-of-your-ass-and-turned-fuzzy disgusting. True, that doesn't really help sell the product's good points. But with a cheeky name like "A Salt & Battery" we can't imagine the joint's owners'll mind. Besides, you could scream "dung sandwich" 10 times in a row and we'd still gobble down one of these deep-fried suckers. We'd even ask for seconds, they're that good. Imagine a crisp, steamy hot exterior encasing rice krispies and soft melted chocolate with a stiff inner core?oops, there we go again. Suffice it to say only the Brits can invent a desert this disgustingly good. We can't wait to try the deep-fried Mars Bar.
You Can't Eat a Whale. Some, if not most, sushi bars offer what they often call a "deluxe" platter, which is the same as your generic "sushi platter," but with more pieces. Sharaku used to offer this, and it was very good. But earlier this year there were some minor changes in their menu, and suddenly when we tried to order a "sushi deluxe," we were informed it was no longer available. What they had now was something called a "jumbo sushi platter." It sounded like the same thing, pretty much, so we ordered it.
In the end, after battling our way through it, there was nothing wrong with it. It was still quite tender and good. But for the unwary, it can be quite daunting (and a little messy).
Best New Mexican Restaurant
Hardly Enough Room to Swing a Chihuahua. Glance into this tiny basement restaurant and you might think it's just another Tortilla Fresca Bueno Taco Loco outpost, but look past the plain diner tables (only about 10 of them; and maybe telling you about this place is shooting ourselves in the foot) and the teeny, festive little bar?look at, and taste, what's actually on your plate, and you'll find that Cafe El Portal, despite appearances to the contrary, is serving up a most interesting hybrid of city Mexican styles: fancy, upscale, "real" Mexican (Zarela and Mi Cocina and the like) crossed with the fare of more typical taco/burrito shacks. So, yes, you can get burritos at El Portal, but they'll contain roasted chili-rubbed pork (our favorite), or nopales or spinach sauteed in onion and chipotle. And, sure, they have tacos, but here they're filled with ground chorizo, or epazote-spiced mushrooms. Quesadillas are much more than beans/rice/cheese turnovers?the Calabaza, for example, stuffed with green and yellow squash, or the Huitalcoche, with that earthy, truffly yet delicate corn fungus.
Best Brooklyn Restaurant
Rhapsody in Blue. There are lots of fantastic restaurant experiences to be had in Brooklyn. We greatly appreciate the borough's ample opportunities for cheap, ethnic dining?Middle Eastern, West Indian, Italian, Russian, Latin and so on. We love the established Brooklyn greats like romantic River Cafe and reliable Peter Luger. The clam bars in Sheepshead Bay are, for us, a summertime must. We're enamoured of the efforts young restaurateurs such as the owner-operators of Park Slope's Convivium Osteria have made toward one-of-kind eating experiences. We feel more assured of a well-cooked meal at A Table or Rose Water than at some of Manhattan's famous destinations. And we delight in regularly visiting neighborhood treasures like Park Slope's Chip Shop, Red Hook's Hope & Anchor Diner and Cobble Hill's (or Clinton Hill's) Zaytoons. There's good eating from Bay Ridge to Bed-Stuy, Greenpoint to East New York. All the borough's flavors seem to us improved by that of Brooklyn's uniqueness.
The raw bar could hold its own with any in the entire country. Skipping it, now and then, in favor of one or two items off the appetizer list is also advisable. It's win-win. But that appetizer menu is win-win-win-win-win, etc. Grilled shrimp remoulade or sweet soppressata? Pierogies or grilled sardines? One of the delectable smoked fish options or the pu-pu platter? Maybe just some perfect vegetables?asparagus vinaigrette, mixed olives, steamed artichoke or crudites? Staying the bistro course is rewarding, by way of escargots (traditional or Bourguignon), country pate, foie gras terrine or the exceptional steak tartare. But the chicken wings, garlic shrimp with chorizo and barbecued ribs also rock.
It feels fantastic to be presented with so many great choices, knowing you're going to have a great meal no matter what. Blue Ribbon's soup and salad list continues to pile it on. The $24 clam stew? We've never tried it, but we'd bet it's worth every penny. And the fact that the place keeps excellent matzoh ball soup on hand every night somehow says it all. The smoked trout salad is another dish that could compete for all-city honors.
The restaurant's hosts and servers are highly efficient and always make us feel comfortable. Factor in that all of the above is available until 2 in the morning and?oops, we didn't even make it to the entrees. Superb steaks, grilled fresh fish, the lobster, the pigeon, a hummus platter with couscous, tofu ravioli, roasted duck, burgers, fried chicken, paella?you simply can't lose. The abundance of quality astounds. Blue Ribbon Brooklyn transcends borough to evoke a sense of New York City at its peak.
Best Hetero Clergyman
A Hound Among the Lotus Flowers. We didn't think much of it when we had to wait a bit to get a refill at Burp Castle. The monk behind the bar (though it was too hot for the robes that day) was out front talking to his Japanese girlfriend. We understand. But 10 minutes after that first Japanese girl left, another one showed up. In fact, every time we've been in that bar, he's been chatting it up with a different Japanese girl. Beyond that, we've watched him stare longingly after any Japanese chick who strolls past the bar (and in that neighborhood, there are quite a few).
Bit Off All She Could Chew. It was late and we were wandering drunk in the boondocks of Hell's Kitchen when our drinking pal suggested we settle our stomachs with some solid nourishment from Rudy's. We ordered a couple of beers and two of the free dogs each, both lacking in flavor (though most folks are too wasted to care). We inhaled the first dog and were attempting the same of the second when a towering black transvestite hooker, scantily clad in red patent leather, asked if she could have a taste. Before we could utter a rational response to such an irrational request, she wrapped her bony red-tipped fingers around our dog, lifted it to her who-knows-where-that's-been mouth and took a massive bite, returning a massacred bun casually to our plate. Then she took a stranger's arm and strolled out the front door.
Alli-olé! Sure, there are lots of tapas places around the city, and several really fine ones, some with smoky, romantic atmo, some more businesslike and elbows-to-the-counter. But none resonates the simple joie de vivre Allioli does. It's a very warm, friendly, fun place. Everyone always seems to be having a good time at Allioli?and it's not just because of the big pitchers of excellent sangria, though they surely help. It's more a reflection of the good intentions of the owners and staff, who seem genuinely to care that their customers really enjoy their night out with them. We've been to Allioli with large, rowdy crowds or small, quiet ones, and been treated with the same good-natured grace and deference by the staff either way. That Allioli pioneered a fairly downbeat strip of South Williamsburg earns it extra credits as a beacon and destination.
He Doesn't Really Hang Out There, You Know. There are still a few great bars that have gone untouched in the Times Square area. You can recognize them by how full they get of people who wouldn't be caught dead in the other bars in Times Square. But there's one happy secret place for drinkers who want to hide out amongst all the touristy chaos. Just enter B.B. King's Blues Club & Grill and head down the stairs.
Best Pageantry Of the Louche
¡Cometelo con Papas! The withering glances say it all. We're talking about Cafe Habana's otherwise angelic countergirls, the Latinas at the takeout annex who regard New York's most preening with the bemused intensity of pitbulls moments before the engagement. Once, just once, it'd be cool to see them strike. As for the scene itself, we've given up on trying to determine what it is that draws the aggro-fey and parlor tans to this place. Yeah, Cuba's cool and all, but like, who here is Cuban?
Turkish Delights. The food at those places sticks in your throat at the identical moment it empties your pocketbook. So you're on the 7 looking longingly at the intricate ethnic mix on Queens Blvd. A good bet is to alight at the 42 block in Sunnyside and go to Nazar, which proffers delicious and soignee Turkish cuisine. Really well presented, undercurrents of riverine taste, exceptionally pleasant staff. Modest tab, luxuriously exotic grub.
It's Clear to Us. When fuzzy golden leaves begin to waft down from the oaks, we know it's time for our fall ophthalmologic exam. Which means more bad news. Last year, on receiving our (increasingly) negative prescription, we welled up a few frustrated, blurry tears. "What about laser surgery?" The doctor glanced up, replied, "We can discuss that when your vision stabilizes," and chiseled our sentence in stone with his click-pen. "Isn't surgery for exactly this?a condition that won't improve? Can't lasers, you know, uh, fix it?" We were flashed a gentle smile, but without capitulation?no lasik for us. Fuck us for going to a responsible practitioner
Best Queens Greek Restaurant
Light, Fantastic. Ralph Emerson once said something to the effect that great books manage to present ideas that are, at the same time, both original and instantly recognizable. Great restaurants can pull off a similar trick. At Esperides you may not be familiar with the dishes on the menu but you will take to them quickly. "We like a good taste," says owner Gregory Soldatos, "but light, not greasy." One need hardly stray past the appetizers: order two per person and share. The eggplant mousse is exquisite, as are the saganaki, the cod, the octopus and the pan-fried smelt?a small fish that is eaten whole and that tastes like a happy improvement on french fries. Esperides is good at both the simple things (excellent bread and salads) and the more complex (a roast suckling pig available on the weekends). Wash it all down with a glass of retsina, a Greek wine with the faint taste of dishwashing liquid, and you'll leave feeling fresh as a daisy.
Olive Some More! For many years, we've watched incomprehensibly as Mrs. Baker ate around her olives or flicked them out of the way. But since we're the type of hostess who thinks that guests should bend to our likes (that vegetarians should suddenly want sausages, that Pepsi drinkers on entering our place should now appreciate Diet Coke), we put out no crudites, only two bowls of olives to go with cocktails. Everyone else likes them, but then we see Mrs. B indulge in one. And then another. Well, she's probably just being polite, everyone knows that Mrs. B. is a master of diplomacy (she used to teach Dale Carnegie classes), and she's probably practicing the good-guest rule that you should always at least try what's set before you. But then she had another. And many others. Hey Mrs. B., leave some for the rest of us. Later, she told us that she had never liked olives before that very moment. A conversion right in our humble abode.
Hush Yourself. We'll spare you the pretentious if-you-have-to-ask-you-don't-belong snobbery that Tracy Westmoreland's relocated bar has generated among New York Observer types. Hidden behind an unmarked black door just east of 9th Ave., facing the south wall of the Port Authority terminal, Siberia attracts as many slumming young socialites and hipster wannabes as the rest of the block does hoze and crackies. On a bad night the clientele can be unbearably In Crowd.
Best Macaroni and Cheese
Postgrad Kraft. Instead of "What's your major?" we think a better standard college query would be, "Macaroni and cheese or ramen noodles?" Almost everyone we knew in school fell firmly into one of those groups when it came to kollege kuisine. We were a macaroni and cheese girl all the way. We can still remember excitedly telling someone we'd found it on sale, six boxes for a dollar. A friend clued us in that you could just sprinkle the orange powder on, omitting the milk and margarine, and save even more money. We also think that old saying about sex, that even when it's bad it's still pretty good, definitely applies to this dish.
Best Kimchi
Don't Disrespect the Ping. Our visitor from Seattle wanted to eat "pan-Asian." This annoying coinage we took to mean a place that wasn't Chinese or Japanese or Thai or Korean but that did serve something with vegetables with rice. What she probably had in mind was a place like Kelly & Ping on Greene St. in Soho, a fashionable-enough place that serves a mishmash of foods plucked from different Asian cuisines. We assume this high-concept menu is the work of a marketing-savvy Westerner; we're waiting for payback day when some Chinese restaurateur opens a "pan-Euro" place serving paella, bangers and mash, cavatelli and wiener schnitzel.
Best Feminist Burger Joint
Grill Power. The problem with being a single gal-on-the-go in the city is this: no matter how liberated we are, or profess to be, we are still a little bit shy about eating alone in public. We don't mean "dining" alone?nibbling salad or a sandwich and a bottle of water is not the issue here. We mean eating?gut-busting, belching, satisfying consumption. This means, to us, burgers, loaded with everything, a side of fries, a bottle of beer, an hour's peace and quiet. This mean's Paul's, the best damn burger in the East Village. Our build-your-own-cheeseburger deluxe ($6.35, including pickles and onions) is brought to us by Robin, the coolest waitress in the Tri-State area. She knows what we want, she knows we need it, she doesn't disappoint. The lettuce is crisp, the half-pound of beef is perfectly seared, the ketchup is on the table. We lift, bite?and the juices dribble down our dainty chin. She provides us with extra napkins, a little mayo on the side for dunking our fries. No one looks askance at us in our Prada knockoff and Jimmy Choo wannabe shoes, not even when we smear mustard on our cheek. No one tries to sidle up to us with a "Hey, baybee" line. Feminism is the freedom to be female. Paul's is the most feminist burger place in the city. At Paul's, we are all equal in our wonderful gluttony.
Sweet Deal. Sure, there are plenty of those fancy, upscale "confectionary" shops around?those places where some snooty Frenchman will carve you an elaborately detailed iguana out of white chocolate and marzipan?but who the hell needs that? If you're looking for candy, plain and simple, just some candy?gum drops, licorice, Turkish Delight, malted milk balls, nut clusters?the answer today is the same as it has always been: Economy.