Owner and self-taught baker Denise Cumming, armed with her family recipes, wanted to create delicious desserts for people with celiac disease, a digestive disorder that makes people unable to tolerate gluten, a protein found in wheat, rye and barley—and most regular baked goods.

“When my mom started to change her recipes to be gluten-free, every time we came home from school they would taste better and better. Now, I can’t tell the difference,” said Drew Cumming, Denise’s son, who assists his mom in the bakery when he is home from college.

When the Cumming family discovered their youngest child, Olivia, had celiac disease, they went through the difficult process of altering their diet. “It is a lifestyle change. We had to transform everything around us,” Denise Cumming said. “My daughter is very sensitive. Any contact with gluten would immediately make her feel sick.”

Since 2007, the family has adapted to the new lifestyle and eventually neither of the kids could taste a difference in their mom’s cooking. “That’s when I thought about opening a bakery,” Cumming said. “I knew I was moving to New York with my husband, my kids were away for college, and I thought I could make my hobby of baking into something bigger.”

Inspired by Olivia, Pip’s Place, at 1729-21 1st Ave., near East 90th Street, has been open for only two months but has already served 10,000 people. “It’s been bigger than I ever thought it could be,” said Cumming, though it requires complete dedication. Cumming opens the store at 7 a.m. and stays until 8 p.m. Monday through Sunday. Now, with the full-time help of her husband and a growing love for her regulars, Denise said she would eventually like to open a second Pip’s in another neighborhood.

The bakery offers cookies, cakes, muffins and bread. “I tried the recipe over 20 times before it actually came out the way I wanted,” Cumming said, proudly hoisting a loaf of bread. Her hope is to start selling gluten-free bread daily and to deliver to the people who want it and don’t live in her neighborhood, which she has come to adore. “I love it here. Everybody has been so nice. The fruit guy brings me bananas; other business owners come by just to wish me good luck. I couldn’t have hoped for more.”

But not everything is perfect. Some customers have asked Cumming to make her sweets for people with other types of food allergies. “These are my grandmother’s recipes; I do my best to make them gluten-free, but certain types of ingredients need to be there,” she said. “Pip’s is a gluten-free bakery. I am also offering some muffins dairy-free, but I cannot make too many changes.”

As the bakery’s popularity grows and Cumming begins to hire more staff, Pip’s is already full of regulars. Sonia Coletta, a real estate agent who lives in the neighborhood, said she loves the baked goods from Pip’s. “I buy it and I give it to my co-workers. They have great little boxes and it makes a great gift,” Coletta said. “I’m not gluten intolerant, but as I walk home, instead of stopping by at Starbucks I just come here. It is much nicer.”

While many applauded Mayor Bloomberg’s implementation of the restaurant letter grading system to bring transparency to a Byzantine health inspection process, it’s never held much sway for me; everyone knows the best restaurants are the ones most likely to inspire, at best, a grudging C grade and a passing glare from daintier patrons. Torn linoleum and stained Formica tabletops are tangible evidence a place has been frequented and loved by hundreds of regulars over time. Clean floors means the mom-and-pop staff have the time to spend their days mopping rather than churning out dishes for a steady stream of demanding, knowledgeable patrons. Got the time and money to install eight different sinks to satisfy those sanitation requirements? You’re either adding that extra buck to my bill or taking it out in low-quality ingredients.

Shanghai Café’s (100 Mott St., shanghaicafenyc.com) A grade, gleaming interior, groovy recessed neon lighting and polished dark wood booths should have scared me away faster than any laundry list of violations. Here, it seems, is a place you could safely take your local health inspector on a date.

Just don’t let him see the Kau Fu, off the cold appetizer list, a mound of ragged chunks of wheat gluten studded with black mushrooms, an abomination in brown that would look more at home in a subway grate than on your table. It’s delicious—brightly savory, the gluten that wonderfully dense texture of a meat substitute that’s not been forced to masquerade as “chicken”—but best left for more forgiving company. Wait till he’s out of sight, then order a dish of this and the pig ear, soy-marinated and sliced into thin, crunchy strips, and bask in the sidelong glances of disbelief you get from your fellow diners.

But back to your date. Lucky for you, much of Shanghainese cuisine is accessibly self-explanatory. Of course there’s xiao long bao, soup dumplings—the waiters are trained, in fact, to check all tables that somehow overlook them when ordering. “You want soup dumplings,” they say, more an instruction than a question. You should—they’re one of the best renditions of this classic in Chinatown, with skins that are acceptably thin but not puncture-prone and a rich, briny broth—but if you don’t, they won’t press the issue.

Shanghai rice cakes are slices of the world’s thickest rice noodle sautéed up with chicken, pork, shrimp and that holy trinity of Chinatown vegetable, onion, cabbage and carrot, in a savory brown sauce that doesn’t reek of white-guy takeout and despair. If he insists on it, rest assured you’ll actually find some flavor there.

Now that your friend is happy, get yourself something from the house specialties lists, traditional, harder-to-find dishes that are segregated from the rest of the menu. These are provided in rudimentary English, the translation an uncommon courtesy for most regionalized restaurants, which means that anyone willing to take a chance won’t be punished by the point-and-pray roulette gods that can bring some real gems or some unpleasant surprises.

Braised pork belly is everything you’d hope it would be, red-cooked to the point of melted, the tender meat just barely maintaining its shape, waiting for the touch of a chopstick to dissolve into shreds. Bean curd skin with preserved vegetable and green bean turned out to be flat, tagliatelle-like ribbons of chewy bean curd tossed with faintly salted greens and edamame. It’s an unexpectedly light, fresh preparation, and a daintily plated version could easily be passed off as the latest in Sino-Italian fusion in a Lower East Side hotspot.

Though the approachable grade and décor draw a decent stream of the tourist crowd, the dining room is invariably bolstered by great round tables of middle-aged men ribbing each other and passing cauldrons of fish head casserole, regulars who would be just as happy in Formica and linoleum. And if you look closely there, on the counter at the register, tucked between the toothpick dispenser and a plastic bonsai tree, a lone Siamese fighting fish floats belly up in his glass bowl. Finally, there’s that C grade spirit! Just don’t tell your date.

Luckily, there’s something about the sweltering summer months that foments revolution around the world; July and August are awash with national independence celebrations from all four corners. Let’s be honest: American patriotism is pretty easy to come by any day of the week, but when was the last time you got a chance to celebrate with some diehard Jamaicans? French? Here are a few other independence days coming up this month, and how to make the most of them.

Bastille Day celebrates one of the most iconic, if less than immediately successful, fights for independence in modern history—and the chicest by a long shot. French revolutionaries were distinguished by their rejection of all things aristocratic, including their clothes, and citoyennes (female revolutionaries) went corsetless while men were identified as sans-culottes, for their rejection of fancy breeches for Regular Joe pants. And while clamoring for a crust of bread sounds grim, it becomes a lot more understandable when you remember they were after perfectly crusty baguettes—maybe with a little Camembert to go with?

Celebrate the French way of life at the French Institute Alliance Francais’ annual block party on Sunday, July 15 from 12-5 p.m., on 60th Street from Lexington to Fifth Avenue. The city’s premier Bastille Day party, it’s guaranteed to have to most genuine French people—but may also have the most mimes. Buy a $20 all-access pass to the wine, cheese and cocktail tastings, and maybe by the time the roving mime makes her way to you, you’ll be willing to play along when she gets trapped in that darned box.

Jamaican independence was gained from the United Kingdom in 1962, after a slow, civilized process of governmental reform (take that, France!). The country still retains the British monarchy, and the head of state is technically the queen’s governor general, but all the power is wielded by the prime minister—just think of it as a Caribbean Canada, but with better music.

This year marks the 50th anniversary of the celebration, which means the normally ebullient festival is going into overdrive. The country itself is celebrating for an entire year—you’ve still got a few months to book a trip to experience the real thing—but in New York City, it’s a day of music, food, awards and cultural presentations in Roberto Clemente Park in the Bronx on Aug. 4 (go to www.jamaica50anniversary.com for tickets). The city’s entire Jamaican community will be at the star-studded party, hosted by the “Jamaican King of Comedy” Oliver Samuels; mix and mingle while you enjoy roving steel drummers and all the patties, ginger beer and jerk chicken your spice centers can handle.

Peruvian pride is celebrated at the end of July every year to commemorate the country’s victory in its 12-year-long war for independence from Spain. The country had served as a stronghold for Spanish royalists as they fought similar rebellions in neighboring Ecuador and Chile; finally, working-class and rural Peruvians had enough and began fighting the “Lima oligarchy,” as they were known. Now, the party officially lasts for two days, July 28-29, though most focus on the 28, the date victory was actually declared.

It’s celebrated with the country’s iconic food and drink, which just so happen to also be perfect for summer: pisco sours and ceviche. The refreshingly tart cocktail and cool seafood salad are made for enjoying a sultry day; give it a go at Mancora (99 1st Ave., at 6th St., 212-253-1101), where complimentary plantain chips and salsa are the perfect salty-rich counterpoint to all that lime. ¡Viva el Peru!

And some things don’t go together at all.

My friend Ben sat across from me at our favorite Thai restaurant. He went with his whim and ordered a glass of a Napa Valley cabernet sauvignon with his green curry chicken. I reserved any comment as he followed his first bite of food with a large gulp of wine. There was no need for me to say anything. The look on his face spoke for itself. After four or five more bites and sips, he finally pushed the glass of wine away from him, glaring at me with a stank-faced scowl.

“I figured that cab wasn’t going to work well with that curry.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” he huffed.

“Drink what you like!”

“Well, I don’t like this!”

The thing about spicy food and wine isn’t so much “what should I drink?” as “what shouldn’t I drink?” The first thing to avoid is a red wine that is high in tannin. Tannin is the chemical that gives you that distinctive mouth drying effect after swallowing. While this is great for balance when you are eating something that has a high fat content, with spicy food it just makes the wine taste abrasive and smashes any lighter, more nuanced flavors in the food.

Something else to think about when matching wines with spicy fare is alcohol content. The higher the alcohol in the wine, the hotter the finish is going to be. When the heat from the food combines with the heat from the alcohol, it’s one time when two flavors don’t cancel each other out. You won’t taste anything but fire.

Wines that are heavily oaked don’t tend to fare all that well with hot and spicy food, either. Oak is a flavor that matches well with subtler, creamier foods. With two big, bold flavors that have little in common battling it out on your tastebuds, all you’re going to get is a garbled mess and a discombobulated palate.

That being said, there are some easy go-tos to remember if you’re stuck making the big vino decision for the table. For my friend’s Thai quandary, I would have recommended a gewürztraminer. This grape has its roots in Germany and the Alsace region of France but is now being grown everywhere. Usually fermented leaving a touch of sweetness, this grape produces wines with complex floral and lychee notes, accenting the complex flavors of Thai cooking perfectly. The 2008 Chateau St. Michelle Gewürztraminer ($10 at Astor Wines, 399 Lafayette St., at E. 4th St., 212-674-7500, astorwines.com) from the Columbia Valley in Washington is a great example.

American Mexican food tends to go spicy, often using tomato as a base. It’s good to match that acidity with a little acidity in the wine, as well. A New Zealand pinot noir like the 2007 Brancott Vineyards Pinot Noir ($21.99 at K&D Wines and Spirits, 1366 Madison Ave. betw. 95th & 96th Sts., 212-289-1818, kdwine.com) is light enough on tannin that it won’t mess with the spice, but sports a refreshing tang that will mingle well with any tomato involved.

The Korean delicacy (and maybe my favorite condiment of all time) kimchi is tricky to match with a wine. One of the few things I’ve tried that really works is Portugal’s vinho verde. It is crisp, low in alcohol and slightly fizzy and acts as the perfect foil to the intense and bold flavors of kimchi. A great example of this light, fun wine is 2009 Casal Garcia Vinho Verde Branco ($9.99 at Yorkshire Wines and Spirits, 1646 1st Ave., at 85th St., 212-717-5100, yorkshirewines.com)

My friend ended up dropping an extra ten-spot on a glass of gewürztraminer in order to salvage his meal. It’s so rare that I’m right about anything that I just sat back and enjoyed the hot and spicy victory.

I want to get it out on the table: I am just as confused as any of you are by many of the popular trends in wine today. And it isn’t just the often hilarious terminology (I could write an entire post on that), it’s the absolutism and lack of gray areas that seem to prevail in the wine community’s opinions on certain things.

It seems that once a high-profile wine professional has decided that he or she likes or doesn’t like something, the rest of the wine community follows like lemmings off a cliff. It is this very behavior that has turned me into a difficult, fussy contrarian.

I don’t set out to be difficult (though my wife may beg to differ, especially while we are watching TV). But for some reason, whenever there’s a consensus about one popular thing being plunked down into a solid “good” or “bad” category, it immediately raises red flags for me and I’ll usually take the opposite position, just to try and even the score.

Now, I will be the first to admit that I am not immediately drawn to a chardonnay that has been either fermented or aged excessively in oak. This was a style that caught on in the late ’70s and grew in popularity through the ’80s, until the market was saturated with this style of chard in the ’90s. Then came the backlash.

It started with wine geeks who, rightfully, hated the cheaply made, “oaky” chards that tasted like a stick of butter nailed to a two-by-four. These wines were often not even made using oak barrels, which are very expensive. Instead, oak chips were (and still are) dumped into a stainless steel vat of wine to add oaky tones. Sometimes, even sawdust is used.

These are terrible wines. You will get no argument from me about that.

However, there has been a hysteria over the last decade or so about chardonnays that have any oak flavor at all. Any use of oak is looked down upon and thought of as bourgeois. This is an incredibly ignorant point of view that has, unfortunately, become the norm now in the oversaturated world of faux wine connoisseurs.

Oak is good. Oak can be amazing, actually. It takes more talent to use oak correctly in winemaking than to not use it at all. When done the right way, the end product is breathtaking.

For a tremendous example of what the new world can offer along the lines of well-made, oak-laden chardonnays, look to Arcadian Vineyard “Sleepy Hollow” Chardonnay 2006 ($36.99 at Astor Wines, 399 Lafayette St., at E. 4th St., 212-674-7500, astorwines.com) from California’s Central Coast. This wine is both fermented and aged in French oak barrels. The result isn’t an over-the-top, wet particle board smackdown; instead, it starts on the nose with ripe oranges and notes of French bread. On the palate, the super-ripe citrus continues with pineapple through the middle. The end has flavors of honey, white pepper and even a hint of caramel. This vino is a meal all by itself, but would be the ultimate match-up for lobster and drawn butter.

The old world has plenty of good, oaky chardonnay to bring to the table, as well. The Chateau Fuissé Pouilly-Fuissé “Les Brûlés” 2007 ($60 at Sherry-Lehmann, 505 Park Ave., at 59th St., 212-838-7500, sherry-lehmann.com) from Burgundy is a touch lighter, but no less intense. There are massive amounts of ginger and crème brûlée scents. The palate is all about vanilla, white peach and spice. The finish has hints of cinnamon, allspice and quince. This wine is a masterpiece.

So, break off from the mob and open your mind. Try tasting a truly great wine that is made, if not to please the masses, at least those for who appreciate expert craftsmanship.

Follow Josh on Twitter: @joshperilo.

It’s a well-worn trope that when the going gets hot, the hot eat spicy foods. It’s well-worn, sure, but if you’re like 98 percent of the Western world, it’s also totally unthinkable. Spicy foods are hot, right? And when you yourself are hot (a totally flawed linguistic leap of logic—we’ll get to that), the best way to counteract it is with cold things, isn’t it?

Well, yes and no. The primary problem is with that word, “hot.” Spicy foods aren’t actually warmer than others, they simply make you sweat, for a complex set of chemical reasons that have to do with pain receptors and neural trickery.
In the Western cultural repertory of foods, there is no indigenous source of serious spice, so we never evolved a language for dealing with it. The first time someone brought Christopher Columbus a jalapeño, he popped it whole, started sweating like a fiend and determined that witches had made him “hot,” and it stuck.* (*This scenario may not be historically accurate.)

Chile peppers have helped people in warmer climes survive summers since air conditioning was a palm frond fan and ice in your drink was a dream. Now that global warming is evening the score and energy costs have us thinking twice about letting the climate control run nonstop for the next three months, it’s a good time to revisit their techniques and, as a wise man once said, give spice a chance.

Thai food may be the second most bastardized food in this city, trailing only behind Chinese in white-guy-ification. Think of all the ketchupy Pad Thai you’ve been suckered into; the sickly sweet Tom Kha Gai that tastes more of Hawaiian Tropic than tropical climes. Thankfully Thai, like Chinese, is experiencing a revival that is placing an emphasis on regional differences—and like Chinese, you finally no longer have to go out to Queens to find chefs doing their thing.

At Zabb Elee (75 2nd Ave., betw. 4th & 5th Sts., zabbelee.com), the chefs specialize in the notoriously chile-laden cuisine of Isaan, the northeastern region of the country. Some dishes, like Som Tum Thai, green papaya salad, are recognizable in name, but their execution is miles beyond that of your corner takeout. Others, like Gang Som, a sour, coconut milk-less curry, and Khai Jiaw Kratiem Dong, omelet with pickled garlic, are full of flavors you’ve never experienced.

When you order, you will be asked about your spice level preference—be prepared to be assertive when asking for full strength, as every meal there sees at least one bro trying to impress his pals who ends up gasping for water and white rice. It’s a balanced heat, though; the kind that was designed to get you sweating happily through the summer night.
Miracle of miracles, there is now a surfeit of seriously spicy Sichuan restaurants in New York City. One of the best, and the most reliably spice-happy, is Szechuan Gourmet (21 W. 39th St., betw. 5th & 6th Aves., szechuan-gourmet.com).

Sichuan food uses fierce dried chiles and Sichuan peppercorn, which will numb you faster than a dentist’s novocaine, to achieve ma la, the signature spicy and numbing taste. The combination of the two means you’re never suffering for the sake of it.

For a real summertime treat, get the double whammy of heat and cool with cold dishes like ox tongue and tripe doused in ma la-heavy chile oil, ground peanuts and cilantro, and the spicy cucumber salad, which is like taking a Katz’s deli half-sour and lighting it on fire in your mouth. You’ll leave flushed and tingling, with a buzzing mouth that makes even drinking water a sensory delight.

Not enough? Take the phaal challenge at Brick Lane Curry House (235 E. 53rd St., betw. 2nd & 3rd Aves., or 308 E. 6th St., betw. 1st & 2nd Aves., bricklanecurryhouse.com). A true bro dare for the guys at Zabb Elee who managed to make it through and want their photos in a Hall (sorry, P’hall) of Fame. By all reports a British invention, the so-called “spiciest curry on earth” uses 10 or more ground chiles per serving.

Finish it, and you get a certificate of honor and a free beer, while your companions cool off the old-fashioned way, with top-notch curries like Nilgiri Korma, a brightly green South Indian specialty. At least the beer is a guaranteed cooler.

Have you been tempted every year to visit the Chocolate Show but ultimately turned off by the overwhelming scale and trade-show vibe? 92Y’s Chocolate Fest is a kinder, gentler (and boozier) version, featuring local favorites like The Big Gay Ice Cream Truck and Liddabit Sweets providing tastings alongside prestigious international chocolatiers like Guittard. The event also features a screening of the short film Radical Chocolate, about a tree-to-bar chocolate-making collective, wine and cocktail pairings and a sampling of chocolate-friendly cheeses.

June 3, 7:30 p.m.; $29. 92nd Street Y, 1395 Lexington Ave., 92y.org.

Big Apple BBQ Block Party

In some parts of the country, BBQ competitions are an integral piece of the summer. While New York City is sadly lacking in this department, for the past 10 years, Danny Meyer, owner of Blue Smoke and the Shake Shack empire, among many others, has been trying to make it right. His Big Apple Block Party assembles pitmasters from around the country, including perennial rib champion Mike Mills and whole-hog maestro Ed Mitchell, allowing festival-goers to sample the breadth of this country’s regional BBQ styles without ever leaving Midtown. Live music and seminars in the park provide a respite from all the smoke, should you need it.

June 9-10, 11 a.m.-6 p.m.; $8 per plate. Madison Square Park, babbq.com.

Eat Drink Local Week

Let’s face it: Restaurant Week isn’t what it used to be. These days, it’s strictly for amateurs who don’t mind the worst tables and prix-fixe menus made up of the cheapest, least creative dishes on a restaurant’s roster. The tristate area’s Edible publications, including Manhattan, Brooklyn and Queens editions, have teamed up to fill the void, presenting this annual week of special, seasonal menus at participating restaurants, tasting events and discounts at food and wine shops. Each year they choose a number of local ingredients to highlight; this year it’s spinach, eggs, goat, radishes, rosé wine, porgy, fava beans and hops. Not sure what you can make with all that, but it sounds pretty tasty. 

June 23-30. ediblemanhattan.com.

Nathan’s Fourth of July Hot Dog Eating Contest

More a cautionary tale than anything else, this legendary contest, now in its 96th year, is worth a visit just to see the lengths to which some people will go for a free meal. Will Joey Chestnut take the prize again for the sixth year in a row? Will Sonya “The Black Widow” Thomas still be impossibly skinny after another year on the eating circuit? Will former champ Takeru Kobayashi stage another rogue eat-off in protest of the organized event? You’ll have to show up to find out, and maybe grab a hot dog yourself from the Coney Island institution (take your time eating it, though). 

July 4, 3 p.m. Corner of Surf & Stillwell Aves., nathansfamous.com.

Foraging in Prospect Park

Foraging, long the purview of the homeless and freegan hippies, has been surging in popularity thanks to locavore chefs like Rene Redzepi in Copenhagen. Join the elite by going on a foraging expedition with expert Leda Meredith, followed by a tasting at nearby restaurant Beer Table. Though you may not find enough to supplant your weekly Key Food run, it’s sure to be more fruitful than your everyday walk in the park.

July 15, 2 p.m.; $30 for Slow Food members, $40 for nonmembers. Prospect Park, meet at Grand Army Plaza entrance, slowfoodnyc.org.

Parked! A Food Truck Festival

Food trucks in the city are often harassed for parking in metered spots, which are off-limits to vendors. This summer, they’ll get a free parking pass at the South Street Seaport, where over 30 of them will be Parked! all day long. Music, drinks and activities for kids will round out the day of fun; check the website to see just what they’ve got lined up this year. A VIP pass will get you a drink ticket, 10 free dishes from 10 of the trucks and a dedicated lineup at all of them so you don’t have to wait around with all those regular jerks.

Aug. 4, 10 a.m.-9 p.m.; free, VIP passes $50. South Street Seaport, meanredproductions.com.

Pig Island

They take pigs (about 80 of ’em). They put them on an island. They get 20 of New York’s top chefs to cook them, add liberal doses of NY state beer and wine and set you free to drink and eat all day long. If that doesn’t sound like a wonderful dream you once had, well, you’d better be a vegetarian. Pig Island is your chance to enjoy hog-centric delights like maple-bacon sticky buns, Sriracha-glazed suckling pig and pork belly sliders all on the charmingly anachronistic Governors Island, while benefiting Food Systems NYC and City Harvest.

Sept. 1. Governors Island, pigisland.com.

86th Annual Feast of San Gennaro

Until two years ago, you went to the Feast of San Gennaro to drink luridly colored frozen daiquiris, buy T-shirts emblazoned with “Fuhgeddaboudit” and avoid getting into a fight with an extra from Jersey Shore. Then, Torrisi Italian Specialties, the restaurant that has singlehandedly elevated Italian-American cuisine, opened a stall there selling slyly Chinese-inflected mozzarella sticks and roast pork sandwiches, and chefs from downtown restaurants like WD-50, L’Artusi and The Spotted Pig followed suit. No word yet on this year’s vendors, but it’s sure to be worth the risk of a fistfight or two.

Sept. 13-23. Mulberry St. betw. Canal & Houston Sts., sangennaro.org.

Indonesian Food Bazaar

One of the borough’s best-kept secrets is slowly coming out of the shadows, but it hasn’t outgrown its small-town feel just yet. This bazaar pops up in the parking lot of Masjid Al-Hikmah, a hub for the Queens Indonesian community, during the warmer months. All of the vendors are community members who arrive with foil trays of long-stewed rendang, charcoal grills for smoky satay skewers, fritters, dumplings and amazingly multicolored dessert drinks. Don’t miss the gado gado, for which friendly church ladies grind the salad’s sweet, garlicky peanut dressing in a mortar and pestle to order.

Third Sunday of every month (roughly, check online), 11 a.m.-4 p.m.; free (donations to the mosque requested). Masjid Al-Hikmah, 48-01 31st Ave. (at 48th St.), Astoria, masjidalhikmahnewyork.org.

Smorgasburg

The organizers of the Brooklyn Flea realized the dirty secret of most street fairs: People only come for the food. In response, they created the now-monstrous Smorgasburg, a food-only version of their all-purpose artisanal marketplace. If you want to shop, you can buy pickles, olive oil or cutting boards, but the real reason to visit is for the one-of-a-kind eats. Favorites include Shorty Tang & Sons’ cold sesame noodles, from the family that created the dish some 40 years ago, and Bon Chovie’s fried anchovies, last season’s unlikely snack hit. You’ll never look at a mozzarepa at a tube-sock street fair again.

Saturdays, 11 a.m.-6 p.m.; free.Williamsburg waterfront betw. N. 6th & 7th Sts., brooklynflea.com. 

We got them on the phone to talk about the book, the shop, their ball technique and what’s in store for the future.

Did you ever think meatballs would be this popular?
Michael Chernow: At first I thought the concept was brilliant, but as we got closer to the opening, I was a little nervous about meatballs being the focus of the menu. But I think everyone loves meatballs. Rarely do I run into someone who doesn’t like them. That’s what I was banking on and, sure enough, it worked out.

How does running The Meatball Shop compare to other restaurants you have worked in?
MC: I have been working in restaurants since I was 13 years old—that makes it about 18 years. I have taken bits of what I learned in each restaurant and incorporated my own theories. I feel we have been able to create a really special place that I would like to work in and that I would want my friends to hang out in. I think the key is to create a special environment for the staff and make them my first priority. I have taken Danny Meyer’s lead in that.

Why did you pick the location for the businesses?
MC: For our first shop we knew we wanted to be in the Lower East Side. I worked in that area for 10 years; I knew the demographic would eat us up, literally and figuratively. The density of bars in the LES was the deciding factor for us. We wanted to attract younger bargoers to stop in before going out, and on their way home after drinking. The positioning of the first shop was strategically planned to categorize The Meatball Shop as a young, hip place to eat. It worked. We had the same motivation when looking for the Brooklyn store, so we secured a location on Bedford Avenue, right in the heart of Williamsburg.
Once we felt comfortable in our targeted demographic, we took a swing in a more family-oriented market, the West Village. We were a bit nervous, but the concept proved to be viable there as well.

Any reason two are downtown rather than uptown?
MC: The food scene downtown is thriving. As I mentioned before, we wanted to be considered as a restaurant that would not only be known for its food, but for its atmosphere.

The Meatball Shop as a unique system of ordering. Why did you format the menu in that way?
Daniel Holzman: There is a burger joint in Los Angeles called The Counter, and they have a check-box system where you choose your bun, patty, sauce and topping. Mike and I loved it, and we liked the idea of doing something that was kind of kitschy.
At first, The Meatball Shop was going to be counter service only, but it was too busy so we started full service. The immediate feedback was that people loved filling out the menu—eventually, we started using dry erase markers because we got sick of wasting the original paper menus. Now, I when I go to a restaurant, I want to write on their menu, too.

How long did the book take?
MC: The book took around a year from start to finish, from writing to taking photos. We wanted to make sure it was consistent with the restaurant, from the music to the food to the energy. I think we were able to portray that when you open up the book.

How did you pick the recipes for the book?
MC: For the original recipes, Dan and I spent a lot of time honing in on the flavors we love. We would look at the flavors and say, "Hey, let’s make that into a meatball." Usually, I come up with the name and Dan comes up with the recipe.
DH: We wanted to document the restaurant using all the recipes we liked. We had to pare down quite a bit and now, the book is almost completely made up of recipes we make at The Meatball Shop.

How far do you want to take the Meatball Shop concept?
MC: Dan and I are very excited with where we are right now, though we always have our ear to the ground and are constantly looking for ways to make the concept more efficient.
DH: We have been talking about it a lot. Mike and I said we would wait until we opened these two restaurants to get some hindsight. We weren’t sure what it would be like to open them, but people are responding well and I would like to open more.

Any new concepts in the works?
MC: I think meatballs have really taken over our lives, and stepping into a different concept isn’t something we are looking into right now. Also, the demographics of meatballs are so wide and vast, I don’t see us opening another concept outside the meatball shop.
DH: I would be really surprised if at some point in our lives we don’t do something else. But right now, meatballs are fun and I love it.

| By Regan Hofmann

It’s as reliable as the tides: Come Valentine’s Day, creativity goes out the window. Husbands feel they have to bring home long-stemmed red roses, the gift that is dying before it even gets to the recipient. Girlfriends feel they have to buy out the nearest Victoria’s Secret, even if their boyfriends have never found ruffles sexy and can’t stand the color pink. And restaurants have it twice as bad. Not only do they have to cater to the thousands of couples who feel they’re legally bound to going out for a “special dinner” on Feb. 14, they have their own clichés to contend with.

Champagne and oysters to start, filet mignon or lobster as a main and chocolate to finish. Somehow, the Valentine’s Day prix fixe menu turns otherwise creative, relevant chefs into hacks.

But does anyone actually want them to? Much like those roses and angel wings, people have been told this is what they’re supposed to like so often they’ve stopped trying to figure out what they actually want. To really prove your love, ditch the truffles and Barefoot Bubbly and give your sweetheart a meal that means something—one they’ll actually enjoy.

Most of the standard V-Day foods have some allegedly aphrodisiac properties, be they chemical, cultural or physical. Chocolate gives you a serotonin high, making you feel good about the person sitting across the table. Champagne flutes signal luxury, making you feel like a movie star while getting drunk enough to act like one. And oysters are slurped out of their shells, held in the hand—a sensual exercise tailor-made for a Cinemax late-night original.

Now consider ramen. Japanese noodle-eating tradition demands slurping—anything less is an insult to the chef—and manipulating chopsticks and spoon around the rich broth and tangle of supple, resilient strands found in any reputable ramen-ya is enough to leave any lover feeling handsy. At Ippudo (65 4th Ave., betw. 9th & 10th Sts., ippudony.com), the dimly lit dark-wood and mirrored interior elevates this homey, sometimes rough-hewn tradition to an elegant evening out. Yes, the wait here is legendary, but you can blow your date’s mind by making a same-day, in-person reservation (the only way they’ll accept them) and breezing past the crowds later that night.

For a chemical lift, skip over the same molten chocolate cake chefs have been peddling since Jean-Georges Vongerichten ruled the ’80s and take the spice road instead. Capsaicin, the compound that gives chile peppers their kick, increases blood circulation, provides an endorphin rush and makes nerve endings extra-sensitive—uncannily mimicking the effects of, as the old Newlywed Game so delicately put it, making whoopee.

Café Asean (117 W. 10th St., betw. Greenwich & 6th Aves., cafeasean.com) is the rarest of rare: a pan-Asian restaurant whose eclecticism doesn’t feel contrived or tacked-on, like the many really-thai-but-we-offer-sushi joints in this town. Asean takes you on a deftly orchestrated tour of the part of the world most intimately familiar with the chile and its many guises, from Singaporean slow-braised short ribs to Vietnamese lemongrass shrimp and nasi goreng, Indonesian fried rice. All are guaranteed to raise your temperature in a candle-lit den of weatherbeaten wood and colonial artifacts.
Or, indulge your shared misanthropy—it’s what brought you together in the first place!—and stay home. Swing through the Essex Street Market (120 Essex St., betw. Rivington & Delancey Sts., essexstreetmarket.com) for a couple of deliciously dirty, funky cheeses from Saxelby Cheesemongers and a rough French loaf from Pain d’Avignon, stop at Russ & Daughters (179 E. Houston St., betw. Allen & Orchard Sts., russanddaughters.com) to pick up some caviar and pre-made blini for that touch of class and ask the staff of September Wines & Spirits (100 Stanton St. #4, at Ludlow St., septemberwines.com) to recommend a bottle to pull it all together (don’t worry, they can).

Set it all out in the living room and snack to your heart’s content, safe from the rhinestones-and-roses crowd with the only person you really want to spend time with. Besides, you’ll be closer to the bedroom when the mood strikes—a Valentine’s Day cliché we can all endorse.

Imagine if your state legislature, in a bid to protect mom-and-pop bookstores, barred Amazon.com from shipping into your state. Or if a local town council, worried about local dairy farmers, prohibited grocers from selling milk. Or if lawmakers banned the sale of potato chips and candy bars on Sundays in an effort to shrink our waistlines.

Such moves would be infuriating. But wine consumers face such restrictions daily.

A whopping 36 states prohibit consumers from ordering wine from out-of-state retailers. Eleven states forbid residents from ordering wine from out-of-state producers. Seventeen ban the sale of wine at grocery stores. Many prohibit Sunday wine sales.

Like virtually all of America’s liquor laws, these prohibitions trace their origins to the temperance movement. Today, these laws harm consumers and serve no purpose beyond enriching special interests. Fortunately, the tide appears to be turning in the fight for wine consumers’ rights.

When Prohibition was repealed in 1933, states were given the authority to regulate the “transportation or importation” of liquor within their borders. At the insistence of a motley crew of interest groups, states proceeded to impose all sorts of rules. A top priority was weakening producers.

Before Prohibition, many bars were owned by brewers or distillers. Temperance advocates blamed these bars for many ills associated with drunkenness and believed that keeping producers away from direct sales would help keep people sober. Law enforcement, too, pushed to weaken producers, as during Prohibition, organized crime controlled much of America’s liquor supply.

Lawmakers answered these calls in one of two ways; they either assumed complete control over the sale and/or distribution of alcohol or they created a wholesale tier—essentially, an artificial middleman—to sit between producers and retailers.

Studies indicate that state wine monopolies—especially at the retail level—result in fewer choices and higher prices. Such monopolies should disappear soon. In November, Washington citizens voted to privatize liquor sales. And in Pennsylvania, calls to privatize the state monopoly are getting louder.

Requiring alcohol to pass through wholesalers also results in fewer choices and higher prices. The wholesaling industry, naturally, profits from this system; to protect its profits, it’s friendly to politicians—from 2006 to 2010, wholesalers spent more than $82 million on state and federal campaign contributions and lobbying. This makes sense. Without a regulatory structure that literally forces producers to utilize wholesalers, many producers would cut out the middleman.

Fortunately, consumer support for this system has been waning since the 1990s, when Americans started developing a taste for boutique wines and became able to find them online. In January, New Jersey became one of the last states to legalize direct-to-consumer wine sales.

Most states continue to prohibit shipments from out-of-state retailers, but this could soon change. In late 2010, the Specialty Wine Retailers Association asked the Supreme Court to chime in on a Texas law blocking out-of-state retailers from shipping into the state. The Court refused to hear the case—thus cementing the Texas prohibition—but the effort generated enormous interest and support.

Efforts to legalize supermarket wine sales also are gaining steam. These laws are kept in place thanks to lobbying from existing wine retailers, who like being shielded from competition. In New York, Tennessee, Colorado and elsewhere, consumers are banding together to fight for the right to pick up wine with dinner.

Bans on Sunday sales are yet another relic of the temperance movement—they were promoted to keep the Sabbath holy and protect churchgoing business owners from competition. But they don’t make sense. Consumers should be able to purchase wine and beer every day of the week.

The United States is the world’s largest wine-consuming nation, but many of our liquor laws are antiquated and only supported by the special interests that profit from their continuation. Consumers deserve a free market in wine.

David White, a wine writer, is the founder and editor of www.terroirist.com. His columns are housed at www.wines.com, the fastest growing wine portal on the Internet.