Flavorful Feasts

Tapas are Tasty and Retro is Chic at NYC’s La Fonda del Sol

2009-03-26T12:09:00.007-04:00

A reincarnation of the supposed iconic restaurant of the 1960s, La Fonda del Sol is a very bright spot in the rather bleak midtown restaurant scene.

I’ve had the pleasure of dining at La Fonda twice– dinner in the more casual “lounge” and lunch in the formal dining room. The menus are similar, so head to the livelier bar area unless you still have an expense account and must pretend to be grown up. Check out the magnificent bullfighting and Flamenco photos in the dining room which somehow work beautifully with the sun-splashed carpet.

Mild digression alert: skip to the next paragraph if you’re pressed for time or have an aversion to run-on sentences. Now, I know tapas. Dare I even say that I’m a tapas connoisseur? Well, no, ick. However, those who know me well — and if you’re reading my blog that’s probably the case, unless at this stage in my increasingly socially media-ized life, I might be so delusional as to think that some of the Twitterati is reading as well — know that I’m generally lacking in ego. I’ve just been fortunate to have tapas trolled and crawled through NYC, not to mention Madrid, Barcelona, and Sevillla. Kick-ass tapas in Sevilla, by the way, with a side of Flamenco, amazing!

Anyway, the buried lead here is that La Fonda del Sol, while the antithesis of my usual cozy, downtown, sometimes dive-y haunts (being expansive with snazzy, sleek, striped décor in the shadow of Grand Central), is worth a detour. It’s an especially great after-work mood lifting spot.

But let’s talk tapas. Chef Josh DeChellis, with Michelin-starred stints and most recently of BarFry fame, is a master of fried, so croquetas are a MUST. How to choose from Manchego cheese, salt cod, or the politically-incorrect but dense and delicious veal terrine croquetas? Simple, order all three, they don’t disappoint. Tiny tuna tacos, laced with avocado and jalapeno-pickled onion have just the right amount of kick and delicate crunch from the taco shells. Garbanzo beans and spinach leaf or espinacas con garbanzos – forgive me I missed my Spanish class this week, must practice somehow – were smoky and creamy. The octopus or pulpo, with potatoes was very respectable. And I’m a pulpo snob after a recent trip to Pontevdra on the northwest coast of Spain, where we had pulpo at practically EVERY meal (usually grilled with olive oil and pimentón, but also gratinée, a wondrously silky, smoky, cheesy, chewy but in a good way concoction). Skip the potted duckling and pork, the only off note on an otherwise super solid tapas menu. Never tried any of the entrees, kinda seems besides the point, but I’m game to be convinced otherwise.

We drank the Don Olegario Albariño with lunch - crisp, fresh, great body, and a pleasing hint of smokiness that I can’t figure out since the wine is completely stainless-steel aged. Call me crazy.

Both meals ended with bunyols or cinnamon fritters - heavenly fried dough with three sauces: chocolate orange, pink peppercorn passion fruit, and salty caramel. We practically licked the ramekins clean.

Nice wine list and sherry selection, good cocktails too. Try the añejo highball, rum, curacao, ginger, and lime.

Ok, now I’m starving and muy thirsty! Hope you are too. Salut!

La Fonda del Sol
Met Life Building
44th Street and Vanderbilt Avenue
T: 212-867-6767
http://www.patinagroup.com/east/lafondadelsol/

Happy New Year!

2009-01-05T23:17:00.005-05:00

Bonne année or I should say feliz año nuevo given that this post was supposed to be about my latest spate of tapas crawling in west Chelsea. Never mind that this luscious looking Ibérico Jamon de Bellota (ham from acorn-fed free range black pigs, for those not yet in the know) was enjoyed at Pata Negra in the East Village a few months ago. Muy rico! I just got home from Spanish class, please forgive me. Sit at the bar and chat with Chef Mateo, he’ll treat you right. The other photo was actually taken at Txikito the new Basque tapas joint - not the most appropriate use of “joint” but I’m at a loss for the moment. Order the boquerones (marinated white anchovy, eggplant, piquillo peppers) pictured here. I’m not a huge anchovy fan, but these were delicioso. Another standout was the txitxiki – chorizo hash mini sandwiches. Perfect with refreshing housemade sangria, spiked with gin and a “secret ingredient”, hmm. I’d skip the cod with the fried headcheese, yech, though critics have praised the dish.
After what was supposed to be ONE quick drink and ONE or TWO tapas (of course we had more, including a kind of morcilla fritter also in the photo - just not going into details at the moment), headed around the corner with G to El Quinto Pino for torreznos or “Spanish style craklins”. The wine list is concise and the wine I wanted to try wasn’t offered by the glass, so what the heck, I ordered- and we finished – the bottle. Planella 2006 from the Monsant region: a hearty, textured almost velvety blend of Cab, Syrah, Graciano and Mazuelo. The only drawback came when our server/bartender poured the last bit of the bottle out into G’s glass and she ended up with a mouthful of sediment. Very worthwhile other than this truly bitter end. The ride home was a bit hazier than expected though. Is any wonder why I’m in January detox? And I haven’t even told you about the many ricotta cookies, New Year’s Day gumbo and rum punch… I’ll be tea-totaling for a few weeks but have a lot of catching up to do so there may be more posts before I take off for Paris. Cheers!

Pata Negra: 345 East 12th street between 1st and 2nd aves
Txikito: 29 9th avenue between 24th and 25th sts
El Quinto Pino: 401 West 24th between 9th and 10th aves

Angelic Eats in Hell's Kitchen

2008-11-20T00:31:00.010-05:00

Happy fall everyone, even though it freakin' feels like winter! What’s up with this weather?

So of course I’ve been remiss in my blogging, quoi de neuf. And I want to talk about all the fabulous beef I ate in Argentina. Don’t think vacas say “moo”, what do you think? Let me know. French cows say “meuh” just in case you were wondering. Before I get to Argentina, let’s go to Hell’s Kitchen and dinner at Casellula with Georgi, Anne, and Doug.

I’m multi-tasking and watching “Spain on the Road Again” with Mario Batali and Gwenyth Paltrow. Kind of annoying, but I feel compelled to watch as they were in Rioja staying at the Marques de Riscal Frank Gehry hotel. The dynamic duo was visiting the winery and the cellar master heated up the bottleneck of a 1958 Rioja with a blowtorch. He lopped it off with tongs instead of pulling the cork in case the cork had rotted, interesante. Gwynnie’s Spanish is actually great, but her non-meat eating habit is weird alongside Mario’s love of all things from the barnyard. But enough digressing.

In sharp contrast to the almost ethereal vegetarian cuisine at Ubuntu, Casellula’s menu is a paean to decadence.

In honor of Anne and Doug’s semi-recent trip to Portugal, we started off with a bottle of Barco Negro from the Douro, a blend of Tempranillo, Touriga Franca, and Touriga Nacional. One of the cheapest bottles on the list and perfectly delicious with Chistorras (small peppery Basque sausages) in a blanket. The hors d'oeuvre of choice at Spanish bar mitzvahs. We had two types of bruschettas - one with fresh ricotta, honey and lavendar; the other with roasted peppers and morcilla. Oh the morcilla I had in Buenos Aires…with hazelnuts and fennel. Can’t think too much about the making of morcilla or I might become a vegetarian (not). We followed with a tower of endive leaves layered with crunchy and creamy Roaring Forties blue cheese, pear slices, and macadamia nuts in a Sherry vinaigrette. As we polished off the Barca Negro, another bottle was in order. Wanting to stay off the beaten track, I ordered the St. Paul's Exclusiv Lagrein from the Alto Adige region of Italy. And look, client plug at the same time. Though they don't deserve it. Anyway, the inky, dark fruit Lagrein had just enough acidity – geek alert – to stand up to their ridiculously rich “Pig's Ass Sandwich” and “Goose Breast Reuben”. Um, must point out that there were four of us sharing each sandwich. Somewhere in mid-cholesterol fest, the Lagrein emptied and we hadn't even gotten to the cheese plate. Where to go next? Funky indigenous variety wanted. The Sattler St. Laurent from Austria worked. The wine was juicy with lots of fruit and white pepper.

We actually ordered dessert after all this – some sort of cheesecake thing. Can’t remember exactly. And then, on the house, came Goat Cheese Hazelnut Truffles. Sounds disgusting, but the tang of the goat cheese with dark chocolate is a surprisingly amazing combination. Good thing we didn’t have any wafer thin mints after that. The results would have been ugly.

Casellula Cheese & Wine Bar
401 West 52nd off of 9th Avenue, NYC
http://www.casellula.com/
No reservations accepted.

Ubuntu Restaurant & Yoga Studio

2008-08-03T01:23:00.011-04:00

Restaurant and yoga studio? No, I am not making that up, restaurant AND yoga studio, though I didn’t do any sun salutations before, during or after the meal… Let me explain. Went to Napa for the Taste 3 conference (the 3 referring to Food, Wine, and Art, capital letters obliges, simply fabulous, but more on that another time lest I get totally sidetracked). The night before the conference I had dinner with my boss at the restaurant rated #1 in the country by Frank Bruni. For anyone reading this not living in the center of the universe, Bruni is the restaurant critic for the New York Times. Normally I don’t give such credence to critics, but I had tasted one of the restaurant’s dishes in Aspen, at Food & Wine’s Best New Chefs evening and it was amazing. Could I sound more pretentious? Moving on.

Ubuntu, our server explained, means “humanity towards others” in an African language. No I don’t recall which one, but there’s video message from Nelson Mandela on the restaurant’s website. Draw your own conclusion. Anyway, according to the site, “Celebrating the natural bounty of the earth, Ubuntu is less about a philosophy of no meat and instead a celebration of our own biodynamic gardens.” Now this doesn’t sound particularly like my kind of dining experience. No meat, mostly vegan, hmm, visions of self-righteous, earthy-crunchy vegetarians danced in my head. I’m a weird food snob who’s super picky about what kind of lettuces cross my plate let alone fork – no field greens, no arugula, I know, I know, and forget about sprouts – ick. So I braced myself for a tofu and raw veggie fest. Au contraire, mes amis. The space was stylish African ethnic, the servers knowledgeable but not overly zealous, and most importantly, the food was delicious.

We started with marcona almonds dusted with lavender, sugar and sea salt. As soon as they were placed on the table, a deliciously tantalizing aroma practically transported me to the field of lavender and sunflowers in Provence that Sabine took me to years ago. Given that it was a beautiful balmy night and we were sitting in the restaurant’s garden, this was not such a stretch. The almonds set the stage for chickpea fries with hebs and a romanesco sauce (a kind of fresh tomato sauce); baby beets roasted in nectarine juices with speckled quinoa, hazelnuts, and ficoide glaciale (think that last bit was the green sprig on top that I didn’t eat); grilled peach and french bean salad (so glad they didn’t call them haricots verts), with burrata (super creamy homemade mozzarella, sooo good) and pesto, basil vinegar.

Eveything was ridiculously fresh, vibrant, and super tasty, though some of the dishes were a tad over-salted. And I felt virtuous. This food had to be good for you and there were no food miles. Of course none of this green-eco stuff would have mattered if the food wasn’t gorgeous – and I mean this in the Irish way - pretty and yummy. I just watched the irish movie “Once” on dvd, cut me some slack. The kitchen also showed a sense of humor as the dessert we ordered, bowl of frosted feuilletine with bananas, vanilla ice cream, and warm parsnip milk was a riff on frosted flakes. Never thought I’d eat parsnip milk, didn’t even know such a thing existed and rice dream sort of disgusts me. But this was fun and yummy, not sure what descriptor the Irish would use for that combination. Oh, and we drank a wonderful, very floral yet dry Moscato Giallo from Lageder, from the Alto Adige region of Italy. Client plug, check.

Quite a wonderful experience all in all. I wouldn’t go there all the time, but well worth trying at least once and I might even return on a future trip out there. Next time though I’ll bring a yoga mat.
www.ubuntunapa.com

Prague post-prandial part deux

2008-06-23T21:51:00.013-04:00

Before Boulder, it’s back to Bohemia...While I enthusiastically partook in the Czech tradition of high-quality, flavorful, totally cheap beer, nary a dumpling or over-boiled vegetable crossed my plate. Other than a cup of “Czech soup” (don’t ask, garlic galore and weird bread crumbs floating in some sort of oily liquid – it was a desperate situation of near starvation) my meals in the capital were wonderful.

Four standouts off the beaten tourist path: Cervena Tabulka (www.cervenatabulka.cz), Mozaika (www.restaurantmozaika.cz), L’Ardoise (www.lardoise.cz) and Pasticka “Kvelb & Pub” (www.Pasticka.cz). C’mon, how could you not want to go somewhere called a “kvelb”? Must ask Nico what that means. Anyway, let’s get to the burger from Mozaika. Mozaika is a “fusion” restaurant, though I’ve started to hate that word too. Where is all this hate coming from, hmm? Anyway, a Czech chef and owner with an international bent. A nice vibe, smiley service AND super juicy burger on a spinach roll, sautéed onions, mushrooms, and cheese along with a pile of perfectly crunchy fries. Yum. Also worth noting was the “tuna au roast beef”. It would take much too long to explain the name, but the dish is a riff on tartare and delicious. Just for kicks had a glass of Moravian Muller-Thurgau that was unremarkable, but the burger, mmmn.

Next up - Pasticka. Ok, felt like a cool underground Czech pub – and I have the overwhelming urge to call it a rathskeller. Don’t know if I’ve ever used that word before, much less in a sentence, but there you go. From an online source since I’m too lazy to walk across the room and get my dictionary: rathskeller - a tavern below street level featuring beer; originally a German restaurant in the basement of city hall. Not too far off, though the Czechs might take offense at being confused with Germans. Let’s ignore that for now. The food was hearty and fairly traditional I guess as there were meats in sauces. They were tasty though, and I loved the ambiance. Do skip the pickled brie in oil, onion and garlic unless you feel a need to ward off vampire hordes.

L’Ardoise, run by charming French film industry veteran, Alex, was the site of my most gastronomic meal: foie gras ravioli, sea bass on a bed of sautéed vegetables, cheese bien sûr, and a bottle of Châteauneuf du Pape. We had sorbet for dessert - I mean come on - and closed the meal in Eastern European fashion with shots of chilled vodka, offered by our host. (I was forewarned!) Then there was the added bonus of chatting with French film star Hippolyte Girardot. Oh just google him.

Lastly, I vaguely recall the Cervena Tabulka as a lovely place. However, we went there for a quick appetizer and glass of wine before a concert and after I had been awake and traveling for a zillion hours so please forgive me if I skip the details. Just trust me.

How did I not gain 10 pounds with all this eating? Oh right, it was the dancing past dawn every night….

Next time, my dinner of more than 30 wines. If you can’t wait – hahaha – check out what a professional had to say about it: http://www.foodandwine.com/blogs/tasting-room/2008/6/17/Aspen-Recap-The-Schoenfeld-Dinner

Pushing the pink!

2008-06-22T23:09:00.004-04:00

Promises, promises…So this installment was supposed to be Prague part deux – where I actually talk about what I ate in Bohemia. Or at least some tidbits about what went down in Boulder (my dinner of 30+ wines) and Aspen (snow flurries, chef José Andres’ version of ‘ham and eggs’ - yes, slices of Jamon Ibérico at $160 a pound wrapped around caviar or one of NYC’s leading sommelier’s after-hours plumbing skills), but lo and behold in spite of all this material, here I am talking about pink wine.

Why? Well, I worked at Astor Wines today and continued to be surprised at people’s resistance to rosé wine. When asked what to drink with all sorts of dishes that would be perfect with rosé, especially given the warm, sticky weather, I was told, “oh, I don’t drink rosé” or “aren’t they all sweet?” or “rosés aren’t very good” or just looks of disdain and incredulity at my ridiculous suggestion. I LOVE ROSÉ! Ok, let me clarify that – I love good dry rosé, and there’s a lot of it out there these days. And it’s made from Syrah or Garnacha or Cabernet Franc or Nebbiolo et ainsi de suite. So just drink rosé – here are some to try.
Do it!
• Les Larmes du paradis vallée d’aoste
• Gran Feudo rosato
• Mulderbosch
• Le Rosé des Deux Ânes
• Montes Cherub – if you can find it
• Sinskey Vin Gris
• Viña Tondonia Rosado, Lopez de Heredia – not for everyone....

Prague, post-prandial, part one

2008-05-29T21:16:00.004-04:00

It’s been just over a month since I jetted off to Praha and my memory might be a bit hazy, but I promised to blog about the surprisingly excellent meals I had there. I’d headed east expecting grey skies — the weather report went from bad to worse in the days leading up to my trip — and grey food, unidentifiable meats in sauce, dumplings, lots of potatoes, and over-cooked vegetables. That’s what I experienced on my first trip to the Czech Republic in 2003. (I had gone there for a conference to meet with other PR teams from Sopexa -my former employer).

This time, I endured a SEVEN-hour layover in Heathrow’s infamous terminal 5 because of a missed connection or connections – there were two options - following delays at JFK due to a fire at the fuel farm! Can’t make this stuff up. I spent most of that time huddled in a big comfy chair in a lovely café drinking ridiculously expensive café au lait and mineral water, trying not to fall asleep at the table and crackberrying everyone I could to relieve the boredom. I finally got the hell out of Heathrow and managed a quick nap on the BA flight, gobbling up a ploughman’s sandwich on the plane. It was actually quite tasty though I was fairly starving and mildly delirious by that point, so my normally exquisite judgment may have been impaired.

I arrived in Prague at 6 pm local time, a mere 18 hours after my supposed departure from NYC. Rain that had soaked the city all day stopped just before my plane touched down and hints of sun peaked from out of the clouds welcoming me, along with N’s smiling face. I made it! Even if I really saw more of Prague by night, sun, blue skies and warm breezes made an umbrella obsolete right up until the morning of my departure when rain lashed against the window of my taxi to the airport.

But this was supposed to be about the FOOD, notably a fantastic burger, foie gras ravioli, and of course, great beer. Yes, I drank lots of cheap, excellent beer, moi. It’s the freakin’ Pilsner homeland after all! But thanks to Nico who does marketing for food and wine among other things and is almost as big a foodie as I am (please let’s come up with an alternative to that word, I’ve begun to HATE it), Prague was a delicious destination. Go right ahead and make loud groaning noises at that line!

But as now I have to go stare at my closet and figure out what to throw on my body tomorrow, stay tuned for part deux, including our dinner with French actor Hyppolite Girardot, chilled vodka shots – the Eastern European digestif of choice, and breakfast at 3 pm. Na zdraví. Cheers!

Crostini and Vini at Gottino

2008-05-12T22:52:00.007-04:00

So obviously from the title, my penchant for cheesy prose never fades. What can I say? Rhyme and alliteration make me smile, like a glass of Moscato d'Asti, aka happy bubbles. But I digress for a change.

So after Mother's Day Sunday lunch in NJ, I trained back into the City to join Solli for a “civilized” drink and catch up at Gottino in the West Village. I had randomly walked by one day, ventured in a couple weeks ago and was charmed. It's a slim Italian wine bar on Greenwich Avenue (not street, don’t make that mistake!) with sort of a rustic Tuscan farmhouse feel – complete with big baskets of onions, nuts and other "foodstuffs" downstairs. The servers are super nice (and cute…ahem), and more importantly attentive and helpful in a low-key way - even when I correct them on the pronunciation of Lagrein (Lah-gryne NOT la-grain, please). It’s a red grape variety from Italy's Alto Adige region; they're my clients after all. Anyway, drank Italian rosé at lunch (Larmes du Paradis from the Vallée d’Aoste) that was yummy with our salmon, grilled vegetable skewers—my first real barbecue of the season hooray—and a tomato, goat cheese and caramelized onion tart. But the spring day turned very chilly and so red was called for in the early evening. Ok, I have totally buried my lead here since the entire point of this post is Gottino’s walnut pesto crostini. One of the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten, and you know I’ve had lots of deliciousness! So good! I really had to restrain myself from eating the entire portion while waiting for Solli. There were two small, but very rich crostino I guess is the singular. Crunchy, yet somehow creamy and silky nutty mouthfuls with olive oil and thyme. Should have ordered more. Also tasty were the carpaccio and brandade a la morue (whipped garlicky salt cod with the consistency of mashed potatoes – tastes much better than it sounds) or baccala something in Italian.

And what did we drink? Not Lagrein. Started with a glass of Il Ghizzano, mostly Sangiovese and some Merlot. It was pretty good, but the Aglianico was much better. I didn’t write down the name, drat.

Gottino - you gotta go if only for the walnut pesto…
52 Greenwich Avenue between Charles and Perry

p.s. Coming next, food finds from Prague, including one of the best hamburgers I’ve ever had, seriously. Děkuji, Nico. But you'll have to wait until I'm back from San Francisco.

Food Memories - Passover Edition

2008-04-20T14:09:00.005-04:00

Hi,

This post is a bit of a departure for me, though is there a pattern when one writes so infrequently? Next time I’ll talk about my lunch at Nizza and the chickpea Socco, but for now it’s unleavened thoughts.

Passover dishes, like much of traditional Jewish cooking are not known for being "light" in any sense of the word. Since you can't use flour or leavening agents, baking is especially challenging for this holiday. Macaroons and flourless chocolate cakes are de rigueur. As I'm the de facto baker for family gatherings, a few weeks before the Seders, I made a point of perusing the many food and wine mags in my office – part of my job! - and pulled out a few pages from Bon Appetit and Martha Stewart. Now I'm not really a Martha fan but some of her recipes are quite good. For years I’ve been making my friend Victoria's mom's recipe - a delicious chocolate walnut torte with chopped apples (keeps the cake moist) and a dark chocolate glaze. Many chocoholics in the family! But I wanted to try something different and so this year would regale everyone with “almond lemon torte and fresh strawberry sauce” and “chocolate chocolate chip cookies” (basically a riff on the flourless chocolate cake – you know, stiff egg whites folded in, etc.) To further demonstrate that my repertoire was not limited to sweets – and because the recipe appealed to me and was appropriate for my veggie brother - I also made potato, carrot, and zucchini kugel. The desserts were whipped up on Friday night - after yoga and trips to Whole Foods and my local grocery store. I made the kugel in the morning before heading out to New Jersey on the train. I also schlepped three bottles of wine - Romitorio, my favorite Ruffino wine made from Colorino and Merlot, an Albariño from Rias Baixas (they had been sitting on my desk for weeks in anticipation) and a Moscato d’Asti for dessert. We're not strict so wines don't have to be kosher. No wonder my arms and shoulders are sore today. The kugel was so-so, sour cream and more salt and pepper helped, but it should have been thinner and crisper. I guestimated on the five “8 ounce” potatoes and probably used too many. In cooking, when in doubt, I tend to add more – more chocolate, more cheese, more potatoes... The desserts were yummy and definitely a success.

The traditional Passover dessert is actually a piece of the Afikomen or matzoh that's hidden for the children to find and redeem for a small gift. As my niece and nephew searched, I remembered that my father would often hide it above the folding wooden doors in our den.

My father is really the inspiration for this post. This morning, I decided to cook the leftover potatoes instead of leaving them in the fridge to forget about and throw out weeks from now. I had a couple egg yokes with a bit of white sitting in a mug in the fridge from a botched separating job that I thought I’d have for breakfast. Hash browns would be perfect! I grated the potatoes in the food processor and sautéed the heck out of them with some butter, light olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic powder. I also tossed in bits of the leftover kugel. Yes, the kugel. It had good flavor from onions and scallions and gave the potatoes a nice kick. They turned out crunchy and totally delicious! While I was eating them sitting on the floor surrounded by toiletries (don’t ask, trying to figure out how NOT to check my luggage this Thursday and I’m a total product queen), I thought that my father would have loved them – the potatoes that is. Many years ago he owned a liquor store and would work Friday nights. Since he'd get home around 10 pm and didn’t want a big meal, I’d make him eggs or an omelet - he liked them with peas and fried potatoes. My eggs this morning were perfect too, very creamy. He would have approved.

Happy Passover.

I'm Back

2008-03-19T23:56:00.005-04:00

Hi Everyone,

I know you didn't really miss my blathering, but a random comment from Brazil (someone in South America reads my blog!) and the fact that tonight I attended a seminar for wine and spirits writing has prompted me - or shall I say guilted me - into hitting the keyboard again. Oh yeah, and I've been taking all these food photos....

So even though today's NYT dining section opened with an article on foodies repenting their gluttony, my return to blogging is dedicated to a glorious gastronomic experience. A few weeks ago, a friend took me to a teeny tiny gem of a restaurant in the East Village called Graffiti. The chef/owner is former Jean Georges pastry chef Jehangir Mehta. The most gracious of hosts, Jehangir welcomed us into a space quite literally the size of my living room. Ganesh and other Indian objets decorate the slim, flatteringly-lighted space. The menu is an exotic assortment of small plates that are truly tantalizing. (Forgive all my pent-up alliteration.) Among the dishes we enjoyed: chili pork dumplings with grapefruit confit; foie gras rasberry crostini with walnut salad; and beet feta salad with a balsamic olive granita. Twenty or so thoughtfully assembled wines are all offered for $8 by the glass or $25 by the bottle. Try the Hi Garnacha. You should probably make a reservation, but go soon!

Graffiti: East 10th Street between First and Second Aves, t: 212-464-7743, www.graffitinyc.com.

Thanks for reading!
Cheers.

Cinco de Mayo in the Greek Isles...

2007-05-21T21:56:00.000-04:00

Greek cuisine is having a revival in New York City, according to a recent New York magazine article. However, the current surge in Aegean restaurants seems to be centered around so-called “modern” or “Greek-inspired” restaurants that are not kind to the wallet. Ethos, by contrast, is the real deal, without fusion flash, just fresh, delicious and affordable delights.

A recent Saturday night with a favorite neighborhood Mexican a total mob scene (well it happened to be Cinco de Mayo!), and after fruitless waiting on line to see "The Gates" documentary at the Tribeca Film Festival (at a Kips Bay movie theater, not quite as cool, but still), hunger pains had taken over. Jill suggested Ethos at 3rd Ave and 33rd. There was a line, but the smiling host quickly found us a table - Jill was a regular! Preferential treatment, I dig it, but still felt a tad guilty as we were whisked ahead of the couple in front of us; the twinge quickly passed. Various objets adorn the brick walls and colorful lamps hang from the ceiling, but somehow it avoids being kitschy; and the lighting is flattering.

We started with Taramosalata, fresh and creamy with just the right amount of lemon and garlic, a great substitute for the guacamole deprived. The menu offers all the classic mezze- tsatziki, skordalia, etc. A basket of warm pita and olive-studded bread arrived promptly after our server took the order (and he was very cute too, always a plus, G - just your type). We shared everything, as portions are huge. Next came a classic Greek salad. I’d have preferred a few more chunks of feta, but it certainly wasn’t stingy and the dressing was perfectly seasoned. Charcoal-grilled baby octopus followed (a big baby!), with delicious smoky flavor, hints of oregano, and just enough snap. Still desirous of comfort food, aka something gooey, we embraced tradition and moved on to Moussaka "baked in a clay pot". Layers of delight... Other standouts include whole grilled fish, priced by the pound and filleted table side. The souvlaki looked yummy too, and juicy.

Ethos has a full bar and decent selection of Greek and other wines. A glass of crisp Robola paired well with all the dishes. At the end of the meal, a flaky cheese “Danish” with a drizzle of honey arrived at the table; it was on the house and came with a smile. All for $36! Yum. A Greek Cinco de Mayo, now that's my type of fusion.

Will try to get in one more post before my whirlwind trip, but with my lame blogging track record, I won't promise anything.

March Madness

2007-02-28T22:18:00.000-05:00

How is it already March? Well, I still have a few hours to go before the new month hits, but my resolutions to write more have fallen ridiculously short. However, I did get to the gym tonight.... In any case, I wanted to send a shout out to G. who's flown far away to warmer climes to start an exciting new job and ride a camel to work. Unfortunately, it's in a country where you need a permit to buy alcohol and public displays of drunkenness are punishable by hanging in the public square. Sacre bleu (or I should say salaam alechem). So I'm raising my virtual glass to a friend with whom I've shared countless glasses of wine throughout the years. Good luck in finding tasty vino over there. Maybe they import Manischewitz - not!

In other news, two recent super wine finds that are pretty inexpensive, both from Southern France because we can all use a bit of Provençal sun in the middle of winter! Jean-Luc Colombo's Les Pins Couchés Côte Bleue Red and Les 40ème Rugissants (Roaring 40's). The first is a Syrah/Mourvèdre blend and the second is all Syrah. La Côte Bleue refers to the area near Marseilles known as the "blue coast" and the wine is full of red fruits, thyme, black olive and well, yumminess (not to be confused with a certain annoying celeb chef’s “yum-o” please). The "40" wine starts off all cloves and keeps changing in the glass like a magic potion. We drank it while watching the Oscars along with a spicy chili that J. whipped up and it was a fab pairing. Much more interesting than the endless awards that gave "saving the best for last" new meaning.

Cheers y’all and Happy March!

Blogging Resolutions

2007-01-09T23:14:00.001-05:00

Happy New Year, friends!
Hope everyone rang in 2007 as deliciously as possible. Mine was very bubbly indeed with Nino Franco Rustico Prosecco, Nicolas Feuillatte Brut, and Pierre Peters Blanc de Blanc, to drop a few names. They’re all mighty tasty sparklers and good values, not like that ubiquitous Champagne in orange packaging that shall be nameless…ahem. ‘Blanc de blanc' means 100% Chardonnay grapes as opposed to the usual mix of Chard, Pinot Noir and Pinot Meunier (well, not everyone knows that) and is usually lighter and crisper than the blends. The hit of the night, however, was the pomegranate martinis (thanks Pia). I made Pomegranate Bellinis (Prosecco and Pom juice) for a party a few years ago, but never tried these martinis. They're so good, had to include the recipe below. New Year’s Day was celebrated en famille with mimosas and hoppin' john with black-eyed peas for good luck.

Pomegranate Martini for 6
12 ounces 100% pomegranate juice
6 ounces citrus vodka
3 Cointreau liqueur
Optional: Splash of sparkling water for you sissies. Shake ingredients in a shaker and put in chilled martini glasses (or serve on the rocks). Put pomegranate fruit into glass as garnish.

p.s. My blogging rhythm has been pitiful, but I'm aiming to be more prolific in the new year. Tune in next time for an East Village food crawl featuring Caracas Arepa Bar, Xunta, and Momofuku Sassaim Bar. Yummy!

Marvelous Mary's

2006-11-05T22:18:00.000-05:00

No, I’m not referring to the Amagansett epicurean outpost, Mary’s Marvelous! (www.marysmarvelous.com). But since I brought it up, let me pause for a moment in honor of vegetable frittatas, mini pains au chocolat, and apricot scones…some my favorite summer breakfasts.

The Mary’s in question here is Mary’s Fish Camp in the West Village. The occasion was lunch with Caroline, one of my college roommates. Mary’s was bustling but not insane on Saturday at 1 pm. We settled into a window nook for our half-hour wait. At 1:30, we were seated at the counter pouring over the menu.

Lunch began with P.E. Island mussels. They were small, plump, and delicious in a bread-sopping-worthy herb and fennel broth. Beet and fennel salad with juicy orange sections and almonds followed. I didn’t eat beets until my late 20’s; I think the epiphany happened in Paris.

But the lobster potpie….oh my god! Big, tender chunks of lobster, carrots and some green vegetable (not celery, but what?) in a luscious thyme infused cream sauce, topped with puff pastry. We also indulged in lobster “knuckles" —$12 for a plate big enough to satisfy any crustacean craving. And a side of super skinny, crispy French fries didn’t need my usual multi-grinds of pepper. Heaven. Oh, a glass of Menetou Salon (Sancerre's cousin) was citrusy and crisp. Yum!

The service was brisk, but efficient and friendly. And the only reason I managed to refrain from dessert was a dinner party planned for that evening.

I can’t make any comparisons to Mary’s supposed rival, Pearl Oyster Bar, I’ve never been. If you have, let me know.

Check it out: www.marysfishcamp.com.

p.s. I know I promised to write about Nomad, but just had to fill you in on Mary’s tout de suite.

Gotham glasses…

2006-10-12T01:34:00.000-04:00

Last week, a quick drink with a fellow wine PR person turned into a serious repast.

We sat at a table in the bar of Gotham Bar and Grill. Everyone was elegant and I was a bit un-fabulous in my post Astor attire and sneakers, but it was a good hair day. I perused the wine list with what I hoped was aplomb, and was surprised by the limited by the glass offerings, including a $26 Pinot Noir from California. $26 a GLASS for Pinot Noir! I mean come on! But it was worth it.

Kidding, I ordered a Fino Sherry. Tasty and a relative bargain, even though it didn’t go with our oysters. They were delicious, and so fresh I could almost feel the tang of salt air (really). My dining partner followed with seafood risotto – perfect texture and creaminess from the forkful I tasted. To go with it, she picked a white from Spain, but neither of us had heard of the grape. It was oaky and strange. Why didn’t they just have an Albariño instead? I had a glass of Rosso di Montalcino along with my Muscovy duck and foie gras terrine. A very flavorful dish and generous appetizer portion, though not really a terrine and where was the foie gras? Had it already been outlawed along with trans fats? I followed the server’s advice and dutifully dipped the duck in the accompanying sauces – mango, red onion and mint/basil, if memory serves me right. Literally all over the map, but yummy, especially the mint.

Back to the wine. The Rosso tasted pretty dusty at first, but improved after sitting in my glass. The last sips were the best, but that probably had something to do with the number of sips I had....

We ended on a high sweet note with a “s’more” – warm chocolate tart, graham cracker crust and toasted vanilla marshmallow, blackberry sour cream sorbet (I checked the website). A très gourmet version of the ones I made this summer at the beach. The dessert wine/digestif list was quite respectable. Aged Tawny Port for me and Moscato d’Asti for my friend. Moscato d’Asti, as she commented quite aptly, makes you happy. I couldn't agree more - its florally aromatic, sweet yet balanced bubbles are an instant mood lifter. In any case, I was in cheery spirits on the subway ride back to my borough.

Phew, that was longer than planned. Thanks for reading!

Coming soon – my infatuation with bubble teas and impressions of Nomad in the East Village.

New York Moments - From Tango to Trills

2006-09-25T22:04:00.000-04:00

Late this afternoon, I spent a few hours savoring some succulent, tasty, and approachable Argentines (wines of course!). Plentiful eye candy was an added bonus.

In the majestic New York State Theater at Lincoln Center, wine flowed as Tango music filtered through the crowd and sunlight flowed in through the windows. Wow, if only I could have paddled through Patagonia as an encore.

I sipped lovely, aromatic Torrontes (whites), surprisingly, refined Pinot Noirs (though there were a couple overblown ones), and the usual Sauv Blancs, Chards, Cabs, Merlots, and even a Tempranillo (huh?). Of course, Argentina’s claim to wine fame is the Malbec grape. I enjoyed structured, yet smooth and juicy Malbecs from Mendoza (one of Argentina’s most well-known wine regions) and other parts of the country. Quite a departure from the rip out your tongue wines I tried a few years ago (where have I been?). For those of you whose eyes just glazed over during that last bit of geekiness, just know that much of this wine costs around $9 a bottle and it’s yummy. And some of it’s even made by French people. So drink some! Ok, that ends the wine pontification portion of this posting.

Upon leaving the tasting, I was greeted by the glorious strains of Puccini's Madame Butterfly, broadcast far and wide in front of Lincoln Center Plaza (and in Times Square, as I later found out after a bit of Googling.)

The staging, which marks director Anthony Minghella's Met debut (more Googling), was magnificent to my absolutely untrained eye (I’ve never been to the Opera – gasp!) as was the music to my tone-deaf ear. But the more glam, and probably savvier crowd also seemed thrilled.

This unexpected pleasure turned a glorious Indian summer evening into a true New York moment, sigh.

Thanks for reading! Ciao ciao or should I say, hasta luego...

Welcome to Flavorful Feasts!

2006-09-15T00:29:00.000-04:00

Friends, I'm finally back from the beach and have hopped on the blogging bandwagon. I hope you'll enjoy "Flavorful", and will indulge any excessive cuteness or out of hand franglais. I look forward to reading your comments and suggestions - silliness welcomed as always.

Right now it's more of a forshpeiz* than a feast, so thanks for your patience.

A bientot and cheers,
Moi

*Forshpeiz is Yiddish for amuse bouche...somehow the word popped into my head, though I have doubts about the spelling.