Despana Vinos y Mas
410 Broome Street
(between Cleveland Pl & Centre St)
Manhattan, NY 10013
1/27/11
This place will probably be appreciated more by the Spanish wine enthusiast, rather than the casual wine drinker, but it is a testament to the quality of Spanish wine that it can support two exclusively Spanish specialty wine stores in NYC.
Despana Vinos carries more than 400 still and sparkling wines and liquors, all sorted by appellation and style. The store covers all the major wine producing regions (denominaciones de origen, or DOs) in Spain from Rias Baixas in the rainy, northwest to Jerez in the hot, Mediterranean south.
Despana Vinos has the deepest txakoli, cava, and sherry selection of any wine store I've seen in the city. There are at least 10 producers of txakoli (you know, that wine where the bartender pours the bottle from about two feet high into your wine glass), 20-30 producers of cava, and a sherry selection divided by varietal (Moscatel, Pedro Ximinez, Palomino) and style (fino, amontillado, oloroso). They also have those rare bottles of Vega Sicilia, Pingus, and Malleolus that appear next to three and four digit numbers on Michelin-star restaurant wine menus.
The store is still in soft opening mode, with their grand opening celebration on February 24th. But if you eat at Despana Foods, there is absolutely no reason to pick up a bottle to go along with your food. My all-time favorite pairing: sherry with jamon iberico.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
SHO Shaun Hergatt
SHO Shaun Hergatt
40 Broad St.
New York, NY 1_____
After a five-year hiatus, I dove back into Restaurant Week at SHO Shaun Hergatt.
I'd like to think of Restaurant Week as a Top Chef Quickfire Challenge of sorts: a competition that many NYC restaurants begrudgingly go through for two weeks in order to attract and impress as many customers as possible. Certainly, one can't judge a contestant on Top Chef by simply how well they perform in a single Quickfire. But you can certainly get a good idea on whether they'll make it past Chef's Table. To be fair to the critics, a Restaurant Week meal will never provide complete insight into a restaurant's full creativity and execution. However, it will certainly dictate whether I vote to visit the restaurant in the future with my wallet.
My dining companions (who are more frequent SHO Shaun Hergatt customers that they want to admit) remarked that the Restaurant Week dinner was much different than the full-court press: less fussiness, offset by fewer explosions and contrasts of flavor. But the artful composition and precision of execution remain the same throughout.
The Tasmanian Ocean Trout truly looked like a Miro composition: the deep orange glow of the slivers of trout were like thick brush strokes against the white canvas of the plate that was accented with geometric brunoises of crunchy jicama and a tuft of small paddlefish caviar. The trout was painted with slightly tart calamansi vinaigrette, which highlighted the ocean taste.
The loup de mer was less artful, but more precise. A perfect execution of contrasts, with the crispy, fried skin of the loup providing a crunchy background for the flaky, succulent fish. All this swimming in an small sea of mushroom cream sauce along with miniature button mushrooms, pearl onions, and carrots.
Dessert was less impressive, but I simply ordered poorly. Among the trio of sorbets, the passion fruit was the only standout, with the sharp acidic flavors balancing out the roundness of the tropical fruit. My dining companion's beignets with caramel sauce was the route best taken, their light airiness seeming also impossible despite being deep-fried.
In proper French restaurant fashion, I had the wine pairing with the prix-fixe meal. The sommelier gets a lot of credit for 1) being the most enthusiastic sommelier I've ever encountered, and 2) devising a pairing of New York-based wines that complemented one of three completely different appetizers, entrees, and desserts. The Hudson Valley Tocai Fruiliano was the best of the bunch, with its light-body and slight minerality a good pairing with delicate Tasmanian Trout. Although the overly-oaked, fruit-bomb of a Cabernet Franc was my least favorite, it did pair excellently with the loup de mer and my friend's risotto. The sweetness of Finger Lakes Late Harvest Chardonnay (despite its flabbiness) rounded out the citrus flavors in the trio of sorbets (lychee, raspberry, passion fruit) that came with dessert.
And on top of that: coconut macarons, fruit jelly petit fours, and a $24.07 gift certificate redeemable for dinner within the next two months.
I will be back again.
40 Broad St.
New York, NY 1_____
After a five-year hiatus, I dove back into Restaurant Week at SHO Shaun Hergatt.
I'd like to think of Restaurant Week as a Top Chef Quickfire Challenge of sorts: a competition that many NYC restaurants begrudgingly go through for two weeks in order to attract and impress as many customers as possible. Certainly, one can't judge a contestant on Top Chef by simply how well they perform in a single Quickfire. But you can certainly get a good idea on whether they'll make it past Chef's Table. To be fair to the critics, a Restaurant Week meal will never provide complete insight into a restaurant's full creativity and execution. However, it will certainly dictate whether I vote to visit the restaurant in the future with my wallet.
My dining companions (who are more frequent SHO Shaun Hergatt customers that they want to admit) remarked that the Restaurant Week dinner was much different than the full-court press: less fussiness, offset by fewer explosions and contrasts of flavor. But the artful composition and precision of execution remain the same throughout.
The Tasmanian Ocean Trout truly looked like a Miro composition: the deep orange glow of the slivers of trout were like thick brush strokes against the white canvas of the plate that was accented with geometric brunoises of crunchy jicama and a tuft of small paddlefish caviar. The trout was painted with slightly tart calamansi vinaigrette, which highlighted the ocean taste.
The loup de mer was less artful, but more precise. A perfect execution of contrasts, with the crispy, fried skin of the loup providing a crunchy background for the flaky, succulent fish. All this swimming in an small sea of mushroom cream sauce along with miniature button mushrooms, pearl onions, and carrots.
Dessert was less impressive, but I simply ordered poorly. Among the trio of sorbets, the passion fruit was the only standout, with the sharp acidic flavors balancing out the roundness of the tropical fruit. My dining companion's beignets with caramel sauce was the route best taken, their light airiness seeming also impossible despite being deep-fried.
In proper French restaurant fashion, I had the wine pairing with the prix-fixe meal. The sommelier gets a lot of credit for 1) being the most enthusiastic sommelier I've ever encountered, and 2) devising a pairing of New York-based wines that complemented one of three completely different appetizers, entrees, and desserts. The Hudson Valley Tocai Fruiliano was the best of the bunch, with its light-body and slight minerality a good pairing with delicate Tasmanian Trout. Although the overly-oaked, fruit-bomb of a Cabernet Franc was my least favorite, it did pair excellently with the loup de mer and my friend's risotto. The sweetness of Finger Lakes Late Harvest Chardonnay (despite its flabbiness) rounded out the citrus flavors in the trio of sorbets (lychee, raspberry, passion fruit) that came with dessert.
And on top of that: coconut macarons, fruit jelly petit fours, and a $24.07 gift certificate redeemable for dinner within the next two months.
I will be back again.
Friday, January 21, 2011
Rattle n' Hum
I've always been a snob.
Before I was a wine snob, I was a cocktail snob. Before I was a cocktail snob, I was a beer snob.
Despite its central location, Rattle n' Hum had escaped me, because I was a snob, and couldn't bring myself to drink at a bar in Midtown East, after having dealing with waves of douchery at Joshua Tree, Turtle Bar, and Galway Hooker.
Rattle n' Hum is not a snobby place on the surface: big screen TVs, extensive bar menu, large seating area. However, the inner snob was drawn to the "No Crap on Tap" slogan at the bar, the War-and-Peace length draft and bottle selection, and the blackboard wall that politely suggested beers that were similar in style, but better in taste than ones you currently drink.
My partner-in-crime and I each ordered three 4 x 4 oz. flights each, ranging from bitter IPAs and American ales, saisons and lambics, to stouts and smoked beer. For the professional beer drinker, the beers are conveniently arranged in Brewers Association approved styles, approximately from light-to-dark, and dry-to-sweet, which makes ordering a flight a matter of picking beers from left to right.
Although the draft list isn't as comprehensive as the Ginger Man, the draft list fully represents the different styles that are brewed by craft brewers across the United States. There's a smattering of beers from Belgium, France, and Germany, and some token representation by Ireland (Guinness).
After Rattle n' Hum, at least there's one bar that I would happily drink in Midtown East.
On the surface, this reeks of pretension; although wine makers speak of terroir, no such thing exists for brewers, since they control everything that goes into the final product.
Before I was a wine snob, I was a cocktail snob. Before I was a cocktail snob, I was a beer snob.
Despite its central location, Rattle n' Hum had escaped me, because I was a snob, and couldn't bring myself to drink at a bar in Midtown East, after having dealing with waves of douchery at Joshua Tree, Turtle Bar, and Galway Hooker.
Rattle n' Hum is not a snobby place on the surface: big screen TVs, extensive bar menu, large seating area. However, the inner snob was drawn to the "No Crap on Tap" slogan at the bar, the War-and-Peace length draft and bottle selection, and the blackboard wall that politely suggested beers that were similar in style, but better in taste than ones you currently drink.
My partner-in-crime and I each ordered three 4 x 4 oz. flights each, ranging from bitter IPAs and American ales, saisons and lambics, to stouts and smoked beer. For the professional beer drinker, the beers are conveniently arranged in Brewers Association approved styles, approximately from light-to-dark, and dry-to-sweet, which makes ordering a flight a matter of picking beers from left to right.
Although the draft list isn't as comprehensive as the Ginger Man, the draft list fully represents the different styles that are brewed by craft brewers across the United States. There's a smattering of beers from Belgium, France, and Germany, and some token representation by Ireland (Guinness).
After Rattle n' Hum, at least there's one bar that I would happily drink in Midtown East.
On the surface, this reeks of pretension; although wine makers speak of terroir, no such thing exists for brewers, since they control everything that goes into the final product.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
The Meadow
The Meadow
523 Hudson St.
New York, NY 10014
New York is undergoing a spice revolution. Rather, a spice revelation.
A couple recently opened stores have recently focused on spices as the centerpiece of their retail concepts. First, there is Lyor Cohen's La Boite a Epice, his spice market in a remote part of Hell's Kitchen, and now Mark and Jenny Bitterman's The Meadow, a small nook in the heart of the West Village, that features salt, but also chocolate, flowers, and bitters.
The eclectic collection of items in the store may seem haphazard at first, but as explained by the saleswoman, why not surround yourself with things that you love most?
The salt selection ranges from flake salts (which are great for fresh vegetables and salads) to coarser salts (red meats, root vegetables) to fleur de sel (light and medium-bodied flavored foods). The chocolates are from single-source artisans like Michel Cluziel to more interesting combinations like milk chocolate with tortilla chips and lime. For the mixology inclined, the Meadow has probably the most extensive selection of bitters in the city, carrying Angostura, Fee's, and Peychauds, to more obscure, harder-to-find brands like Boker's. Bitterman's (unsurprisingly) has his own line of bitters as well.
You are even inclined to taste samples of salt (and bitters). After tasting through a range of salts, I came to realize salt is fundamental to cooking not because of the flavor it imparts, but because it calls to attention the flavors already in food. The same thing with bitters: an Old-Fashioned is not a cocktail if it doesn't have bitters to highlight the spiciness of the rye and the botanicals in the vermouth.
As much as people dine out in restaurants, few realize salt is the bedrock for any dish. As Lyor Cohen wisely commented, if no one buys spices, at least stock your cupboard with decent salt.
523 Hudson St.
New York, NY 10014
New York is undergoing a spice revolution. Rather, a spice revelation.
A couple recently opened stores have recently focused on spices as the centerpiece of their retail concepts. First, there is Lyor Cohen's La Boite a Epice, his spice market in a remote part of Hell's Kitchen, and now Mark and Jenny Bitterman's The Meadow, a small nook in the heart of the West Village, that features salt, but also chocolate, flowers, and bitters.
The eclectic collection of items in the store may seem haphazard at first, but as explained by the saleswoman, why not surround yourself with things that you love most?
The salt selection ranges from flake salts (which are great for fresh vegetables and salads) to coarser salts (red meats, root vegetables) to fleur de sel (light and medium-bodied flavored foods). The chocolates are from single-source artisans like Michel Cluziel to more interesting combinations like milk chocolate with tortilla chips and lime. For the mixology inclined, the Meadow has probably the most extensive selection of bitters in the city, carrying Angostura, Fee's, and Peychauds, to more obscure, harder-to-find brands like Boker's. Bitterman's (unsurprisingly) has his own line of bitters as well.
You are even inclined to taste samples of salt (and bitters). After tasting through a range of salts, I came to realize salt is fundamental to cooking not because of the flavor it imparts, but because it calls to attention the flavors already in food. The same thing with bitters: an Old-Fashioned is not a cocktail if it doesn't have bitters to highlight the spiciness of the rye and the botanicals in the vermouth.
As much as people dine out in restaurants, few realize salt is the bedrock for any dish. As Lyor Cohen wisely commented, if no one buys spices, at least stock your cupboard with decent salt.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
International Wine Center
International Wine Center
350 7th Ave.
New York, NY 10001
The International Wine Center (IWC) is literally the center of wine education in the United States, as it serves as the headquarters for the Wine & Spirit Education Trust, the largest international organization for wine and spirits education.
You might have heard IWC if you've read "Wine for Dummies"; Mary Ewing-Mulligan, president of the International Wine Center, wrote the book along with her husband. In the wine world, she is no trifle as she was the first woman in the US to earn the coveted Masters of Wine designation (equivalent in difficulty to a PhD in astrophysics).
The course is extremely expensive, but a requisite gateway for those who want to further advance in the wine trade, and others who are seriously committed to advancing their knowledge about wine. I have taken other courses throughout the years (Astor Center, Best Cellars, Columbia Business School, and even the "Everyday Guide to Wine" course through The Great Courses DVD), and IWC is, without question, the most comprehensive course on wine growing, wine producing, and wine tasting available in NYC.
The Advanced Course consists of 15 two-and-a-half hour classes that thoroughly covers the viticultural and vinicultural characteristics of principal wines around the world. The class consists of a one-and-a-half hour lecture followed by an hour of blind tastings of wine from that region and follow-up discussions. The lectures are informative and reinforce the required reading in the WSET textbook. The guided tastings are absolutely crucial in honing one palate to identify particular aromas and flavors across different varieties and styles of wine.
Linda Lawry, Director of the IWC, is the primary instructor for the Advanced Course. There is no doubt in my mind as to her qualifications as a wine instructor, as her lectures are engaging and her knowledge of even the most arcane details of wine production robust.
To the criticism that the course doesn't offer more expensive wines, I have had my fair share of classic and iconic wines, and from experience, expensive doesn't necessary mean good. Tasting expensive wine may give you bragging rights, but doesn't give you an understanding of what distinguishes good wine from great ones. The selections that that IWC has for each class are designed to allow you to compare and contrast different styles of wine, a necessary skill for wine discussion and enjoyment.
Through taking the course, I feel the veil of mystery behind wine has been lifted. I feel confident walking into any wine store, and to decode the hidden language embedded on most wine labels. I feel I can engage in a serious discussion with the sales rep at most high-end wine store. Most importantly, the IWC has opened a door to enjoying wine that will last the rest of my lifetime.
350 7th Ave.
New York, NY 10001
The International Wine Center (IWC) is literally the center of wine education in the United States, as it serves as the headquarters for the Wine & Spirit Education Trust, the largest international organization for wine and spirits education.
You might have heard IWC if you've read "Wine for Dummies"; Mary Ewing-Mulligan, president of the International Wine Center, wrote the book along with her husband. In the wine world, she is no trifle as she was the first woman in the US to earn the coveted Masters of Wine designation (equivalent in difficulty to a PhD in astrophysics).
The course is extremely expensive, but a requisite gateway for those who want to further advance in the wine trade, and others who are seriously committed to advancing their knowledge about wine. I have taken other courses throughout the years (Astor Center, Best Cellars, Columbia Business School, and even the "Everyday Guide to Wine" course through The Great Courses DVD), and IWC is, without question, the most comprehensive course on wine growing, wine producing, and wine tasting available in NYC.
The Advanced Course consists of 15 two-and-a-half hour classes that thoroughly covers the viticultural and vinicultural characteristics of principal wines around the world. The class consists of a one-and-a-half hour lecture followed by an hour of blind tastings of wine from that region and follow-up discussions. The lectures are informative and reinforce the required reading in the WSET textbook. The guided tastings are absolutely crucial in honing one palate to identify particular aromas and flavors across different varieties and styles of wine.
Linda Lawry, Director of the IWC, is the primary instructor for the Advanced Course. There is no doubt in my mind as to her qualifications as a wine instructor, as her lectures are engaging and her knowledge of even the most arcane details of wine production robust.
To the criticism that the course doesn't offer more expensive wines, I have had my fair share of classic and iconic wines, and from experience, expensive doesn't necessary mean good. Tasting expensive wine may give you bragging rights, but doesn't give you an understanding of what distinguishes good wine from great ones. The selections that that IWC has for each class are designed to allow you to compare and contrast different styles of wine, a necessary skill for wine discussion and enjoyment.
Through taking the course, I feel the veil of mystery behind wine has been lifted. I feel confident walking into any wine store, and to decode the hidden language embedded on most wine labels. I feel I can engage in a serious discussion with the sales rep at most high-end wine store. Most importantly, the IWC has opened a door to enjoying wine that will last the rest of my lifetime.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Four and Twenty Blackbirds
Lauded by Bon Appetit as one of the top 10 best places in America to get Pie, the Elsen sisters have officially put the small town of Hecla, ND on the map.
This rustic Victorian dessert store churns out pies with flavors that are a bit unexpected, but nevertheless strike a sublime balance between sweet and savory ingredients.
I ordered a slice apiece of the Salted Caramel and Cranberry-Sage. The sweet-and-tart apples provided a nice foil to the tender, flaky, buttery crust, and the backdrop of caramel and salt provided a nice finish on the palate without being too dominant. The Cranberry Sage was my favorite, with the savory kick of sage and cider vinegar adding subtle aromatic notes that highlighted the sweetness and tartness of the fresh cranberries, a nearly perfect embodiment of the famous Thanksgiving side dish baked in a pie.
Arrive on the earlier side as the selection of 4-5 pies get crossed off pretty quickly; as this place gets more of the recognition it deserves, I suspect it will be harder and harder to taste a slice of near pastry perfection.
This rustic Victorian dessert store churns out pies with flavors that are a bit unexpected, but nevertheless strike a sublime balance between sweet and savory ingredients.
I ordered a slice apiece of the Salted Caramel and Cranberry-Sage. The sweet-and-tart apples provided a nice foil to the tender, flaky, buttery crust, and the backdrop of caramel and salt provided a nice finish on the palate without being too dominant. The Cranberry Sage was my favorite, with the savory kick of sage and cider vinegar adding subtle aromatic notes that highlighted the sweetness and tartness of the fresh cranberries, a nearly perfect embodiment of the famous Thanksgiving side dish baked in a pie.
Arrive on the earlier side as the selection of 4-5 pies get crossed off pretty quickly; as this place gets more of the recognition it deserves, I suspect it will be harder and harder to taste a slice of near pastry perfection.
Smith & Vine
Probably the best selection out of the wine stores in Brooklyn. As a bonus, 10% on wine from 6-9pm on Mondays.
The store serves a niche well for those in Brooklyn who want to pick up a cheapie wine for drinking at home, a modestly priced for taking to a dinner party, or something more expensive for the connoisseur. They represent Old World and New World well, with comprehensive sections for France, Italy, California, and Champagne.
Although Manhattan stores trump Brooklyn in terms of sheer selection for wine, I find Brooklyn stores one-up Manhattan for their depth and careful selection in the spirits category. The spirits buyer at Smith & Vine must have been a bartender in his/her previous career, as their gin, bourbon, scotch, and cognac seem to be perfectly tailored for the amateur mixologist. There are all sort of artisanal gins for mixing martinis (Brueckelen, Junipero, Ransom's) and whiskys for Manhattans (Old Portero, Old Overholt, Rittenhouse). They even have obscure liqueurs that the top cocktail lounges sling like Batavia-Arrack, Creme de Violette, and St. Elizabeth All-Dram Spice.
However, I wasn't impressed by the tastings and the service. The Italian wine tasting on a Saturday afternoon had a decent IGT, but a nearly undrinkable Tuscan and Nero D'Avola that was brutally tannic. The staff are helpful and accomodating, but not as on point on their wine knowledge as locations like Astor Wine and Spirits, Chambers Street Wines, and Tribeca Wine Merchants.
The store serves a niche well for those in Brooklyn who want to pick up a cheapie wine for drinking at home, a modestly priced for taking to a dinner party, or something more expensive for the connoisseur. They represent Old World and New World well, with comprehensive sections for France, Italy, California, and Champagne.
Although Manhattan stores trump Brooklyn in terms of sheer selection for wine, I find Brooklyn stores one-up Manhattan for their depth and careful selection in the spirits category. The spirits buyer at Smith & Vine must have been a bartender in his/her previous career, as their gin, bourbon, scotch, and cognac seem to be perfectly tailored for the amateur mixologist. There are all sort of artisanal gins for mixing martinis (Brueckelen, Junipero, Ransom's) and whiskys for Manhattans (Old Portero, Old Overholt, Rittenhouse). They even have obscure liqueurs that the top cocktail lounges sling like Batavia-Arrack, Creme de Violette, and St. Elizabeth All-Dram Spice.
However, I wasn't impressed by the tastings and the service. The Italian wine tasting on a Saturday afternoon had a decent IGT, but a nearly undrinkable Tuscan and Nero D'Avola that was brutally tannic. The staff are helpful and accomodating, but not as on point on their wine knowledge as locations like Astor Wine and Spirits, Chambers Street Wines, and Tribeca Wine Merchants.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Tribeca/Financial District Wine Store Roundup
For better for for worse, I have shopped at nearly every wine store in Manhattan, but for some reason, Tribeca and the Financial District have escaped my list.
Tribeca Wine Merchants
The store specializes in small wine producers from California, Oregon, and Burgundy. The decor mirrors the clientele, with cherrywood shelves reflecting the wealthy financial services clientele who live in the neighborhood.
I asked about some region-level Burgundy, and the salesperson was able to provide tasting notes and even winemaker commentary for the three bottles within my price range. After asking him what he thought the best value under $30 was in the store, he pointed me straight to an Evening Lands 2008 Pinot Noir ($24), a solid entry level Pinot for a vigneron whose higher-level wines have scored 95+ on Robert Parker's notes. As an additional courtesy, he even offered to open it so I could taste it. I was floored by the immense generosity, but apparently this is a service customarily offered.
The store does a significant business outside the confines of the shop, so it isn't the most retail-centric place. Most of the wines retail at $30+, but they do have a small selection of wines for under $20 for a drinking or dinner party wine. Nevertheless, many of the vineyards I have not seen in other stores, and despite the higher average prices, you are getting considerable value for wines that have low allocation.
Chamber Street Wines
As mentioned by another wine store in the Financial District, this is where wine owners in the neighborhood shop after they get off work.
The plethora of Old World and New World wine maps decorating the walls gives an indication to the depth of the selection here. Stalwarts such as France (Burgundy/Bordeaux), Italy, Spain, Germany, and California are well represented by very hard-to-find producers, but where this place shines is their deep selection of Loire Valley wines. They have the deepest selection of Muscadet, Sancerre, Vouvray, Chinon, Bourguiel, and Savenierres, I've encountered in any wine store in Manhattan or Brooklyn. And for those with a sweet tooth, they have a solid line of dessert lines from Sauternes and Barsac.
Up front, they have a decent selection of 10-20 wines between $10 and $20, but I would highly suggest asking one of their extremely knowledgable sales reps for their recommendations. After posting this question to John, you could tell his mind started racing. He picked some not-very-obvious selections: a Beaujolais from Morgon, an Pinot Noir from Carneros (after steering me away from a Oregon Pinot Noir twice the price), and a Vin de Table made by Domaine Clape, a rock-star vigneron from Cornas who recently passed. He later regaled me with his disdain for Austrian reds, and his high esteem for German rieslings; some would me turned off by this, but I happen to relish opinionated people, especially about wine.
Downtown Cellars
Formerly the Greene Grape Downtown, this wine store follows the same philosophy of stocking a carefully selected wine for all regions, prices, and dining occasions.
Although the selection isn't large (about 80-100 wines), there is a lot of thought and care put into selecting the wines. Besides the requisite taste profile, there is a lot of pride talking about producers and viticultural methods. However, if you're looking for shiny premier and cru wine labels from Burgundy and Bordeaux, you'll be disappointed.
The strong suit of this store, in my opinion, is not their wine, but their spirits selection. Although not as expansive as Astor Wine & Spirits, the brands were selected by a buyer who read his spirits industry websites and drank his fair share. Their gins spanned the range of flavors from botanical (Brueckelen Gin), to citrusy (Bluecoat Gin), to piny and spicy (Junipero Gin). For whiskey, they had some Old Portero Rye Whiskey, a favorite of mine.
However, the sales associates weren't the most helpful. Inquiring about the difference between a $24 De Forville Langhe Nebbiolo 2008 and a $34 Barbaresco by the same producer (sometimes the less expensive wine from this region is more approachable and has nearly the same complexity of flavor), it was obvious that she hadn't tasted the wines or read the tasting notes for either. I had to follow up with the general manager to satisfactorily answer my question.
Le Petit Cave
Many have praised Le Petit Cave for their affordable wine selection, but Downtown Cellars does a more comprehensive job within the same price range, if you're picking up a bottle of wine after work.
Most of the wines here are between $10 and $20, and cover all the Old World (Italy, Spain) and New World (US, Chile, Argentina) talking points. There are a few outright bargains like an Oregon 2008 L'Ecume Pinot Noir from the daughter of famed vigneron Robert Drouhin.
I'm just not a fan of the lo-fi setup. Wines are displayed in their original packing boxes. Sales prices are marked up hand-written signs used in dollar stores. And the selection of more expensive Bordeaux, Burgundy, and Italian Barbaresco ($50-$150) languishes under bright overhead lights and winter heating that aren't doing any favors to the precious grape juice inside these expensive bottles.
Tribeca Wine Merchants
The store specializes in small wine producers from California, Oregon, and Burgundy. The decor mirrors the clientele, with cherrywood shelves reflecting the wealthy financial services clientele who live in the neighborhood.
I asked about some region-level Burgundy, and the salesperson was able to provide tasting notes and even winemaker commentary for the three bottles within my price range. After asking him what he thought the best value under $30 was in the store, he pointed me straight to an Evening Lands 2008 Pinot Noir ($24), a solid entry level Pinot for a vigneron whose higher-level wines have scored 95+ on Robert Parker's notes. As an additional courtesy, he even offered to open it so I could taste it. I was floored by the immense generosity, but apparently this is a service customarily offered.
The store does a significant business outside the confines of the shop, so it isn't the most retail-centric place. Most of the wines retail at $30+, but they do have a small selection of wines for under $20 for a drinking or dinner party wine. Nevertheless, many of the vineyards I have not seen in other stores, and despite the higher average prices, you are getting considerable value for wines that have low allocation.
Chamber Street Wines
As mentioned by another wine store in the Financial District, this is where wine owners in the neighborhood shop after they get off work.
The plethora of Old World and New World wine maps decorating the walls gives an indication to the depth of the selection here. Stalwarts such as France (Burgundy/Bordeaux), Italy, Spain, Germany, and California are well represented by very hard-to-find producers, but where this place shines is their deep selection of Loire Valley wines. They have the deepest selection of Muscadet, Sancerre, Vouvray, Chinon, Bourguiel, and Savenierres, I've encountered in any wine store in Manhattan or Brooklyn. And for those with a sweet tooth, they have a solid line of dessert lines from Sauternes and Barsac.
Up front, they have a decent selection of 10-20 wines between $10 and $20, but I would highly suggest asking one of their extremely knowledgable sales reps for their recommendations. After posting this question to John, you could tell his mind started racing. He picked some not-very-obvious selections: a Beaujolais from Morgon, an Pinot Noir from Carneros (after steering me away from a Oregon Pinot Noir twice the price), and a Vin de Table made by Domaine Clape, a rock-star vigneron from Cornas who recently passed. He later regaled me with his disdain for Austrian reds, and his high esteem for German rieslings; some would me turned off by this, but I happen to relish opinionated people, especially about wine.
Downtown Cellars
Formerly the Greene Grape Downtown, this wine store follows the same philosophy of stocking a carefully selected wine for all regions, prices, and dining occasions.
Although the selection isn't large (about 80-100 wines), there is a lot of thought and care put into selecting the wines. Besides the requisite taste profile, there is a lot of pride talking about producers and viticultural methods. However, if you're looking for shiny premier and cru wine labels from Burgundy and Bordeaux, you'll be disappointed.
The strong suit of this store, in my opinion, is not their wine, but their spirits selection. Although not as expansive as Astor Wine & Spirits, the brands were selected by a buyer who read his spirits industry websites and drank his fair share. Their gins spanned the range of flavors from botanical (Brueckelen Gin), to citrusy (Bluecoat Gin), to piny and spicy (Junipero Gin). For whiskey, they had some Old Portero Rye Whiskey, a favorite of mine.
However, the sales associates weren't the most helpful. Inquiring about the difference between a $24 De Forville Langhe Nebbiolo 2008 and a $34 Barbaresco by the same producer (sometimes the less expensive wine from this region is more approachable and has nearly the same complexity of flavor), it was obvious that she hadn't tasted the wines or read the tasting notes for either. I had to follow up with the general manager to satisfactorily answer my question.
Le Petit Cave
Many have praised Le Petit Cave for their affordable wine selection, but Downtown Cellars does a more comprehensive job within the same price range, if you're picking up a bottle of wine after work.
Most of the wines here are between $10 and $20, and cover all the Old World (Italy, Spain) and New World (US, Chile, Argentina) talking points. There are a few outright bargains like an Oregon 2008 L'Ecume Pinot Noir from the daughter of famed vigneron Robert Drouhin.
I'm just not a fan of the lo-fi setup. Wines are displayed in their original packing boxes. Sales prices are marked up hand-written signs used in dollar stores. And the selection of more expensive Bordeaux, Burgundy, and Italian Barbaresco ($50-$150) languishes under bright overhead lights and winter heating that aren't doing any favors to the precious grape juice inside these expensive bottles.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Flute Gramercy
Flute Gramercy
40 E 20th St
New York, NY 10003
1/13/2011
There are several classic parings with Champagne: Champagne and caviar. Champagne and eggs. Champagne and smoked salmon.
Champagne and a loud, obnoxious DJ set isn't one of them.
To start out optimistically, the high point of the evening was the NV Piper-Heidseck Monopole Brut, one of my favorite champagnes for under $30, retailing here at the bargain price of $15/glass.
However, I will freely admit that I probably chose the wrong day and time to stop by Flute Gramercy, but it's hard to enjoy sipping something delicate and bubbly when you have to sign like Helen Keller to communicate with the person sitting five feet from you.
On a city block with wine-centric Veritas, cosmopolitan Mari Vanna, and perennial classic Gramercy Tavern, Flute Gramercy sticks out like that kid in your freshman year dorm that tries to hard to be cool. The decor did not strike me as sheik, but as delightfully tacky. Red, plush couches evoked swanky strip club rather than sophisticated boite. Old bottles of champagne lined the ceiling shelves like empty forties in a frat house living room. And reproductions of French travel posters plaster the walls like your old dorm room college poster "Beer: Helping White Guys Dance Since 1842." (Although to Flute Gramercy's credit, the display case with the empty magnums, jeroboams, and methuselahs.
Would I take a date here? Absolutely not. There are swankier and more sophisticated joints in this neighborhood.
40 E 20th St
New York, NY 10003
1/13/2011
There are several classic parings with Champagne: Champagne and caviar. Champagne and eggs. Champagne and smoked salmon.
Champagne and a loud, obnoxious DJ set isn't one of them.
To start out optimistically, the high point of the evening was the NV Piper-Heidseck Monopole Brut, one of my favorite champagnes for under $30, retailing here at the bargain price of $15/glass.
However, I will freely admit that I probably chose the wrong day and time to stop by Flute Gramercy, but it's hard to enjoy sipping something delicate and bubbly when you have to sign like Helen Keller to communicate with the person sitting five feet from you.
On a city block with wine-centric Veritas, cosmopolitan Mari Vanna, and perennial classic Gramercy Tavern, Flute Gramercy sticks out like that kid in your freshman year dorm that tries to hard to be cool. The decor did not strike me as sheik, but as delightfully tacky. Red, plush couches evoked swanky strip club rather than sophisticated boite. Old bottles of champagne lined the ceiling shelves like empty forties in a frat house living room. And reproductions of French travel posters plaster the walls like your old dorm room college poster "Beer: Helping White Guys Dance Since 1842." (Although to Flute Gramercy's credit, the display case with the empty magnums, jeroboams, and methuselahs.
Would I take a date here? Absolutely not. There are swankier and more sophisticated joints in this neighborhood.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
La Boite a Epice
La Boite a Epice
724 11th Ave
Manhattan, NY 10019
1/11/2011
Accustomed to seeing containers of salt and pepper underneath supermarket lights, one would find it difficult to imagine why countries in the Middle Ages would risk life and coin for the pursuit of mere condiments. However, taking a whiff of the fresh aromatics of Lior Lev Sercarz's spice blends helps the modern-day gastronaut appreciate why they were some of the most expensive and in-demand products of ancient times.
Although the grossly inconvenient weekday hours and long brisk walk from the subway impede a trip by the weary to La Boite a Epice, the more adventurous will be greatly rewarded. The gallery/kitchen storefront is rather modest, with a stainless steel kitchen counter for preparation of spices along the left-hand side of the room and a display of previous year's biscuit tins in the display window.
However, upon entering, this former Daniel chef will put on a spice display that is completely mind-blowing. From a bunch of plastic containers, Lior will pull out one-by-one blends for you to sample and perhaps taste. First was Amber No. 2, a mixture of ancho, annatto, mace, and brown sugar, with a sweet and pungently smoky flavor that trumps any BBQ blend. No. 18 was Smoked Cinnamon, which smells exactly as described, but with the aroma of musky, heady perfume. Lastly, was No. 33 Mishmish, a blend of crystallized honey, lemon, and saffron that smelled like the breeze of summer tradewinds.
La Boite a Epice's spice blends are already an open secret among professional chefs, with Corton's Paul Liebrandt, Fatty Cue's Zak Pelaccio, and Daniel Boulud among clients; in fact , No. 28 Vadouvan was one of the spices that Frank Bruni raved about in his dishes in his 4-star review of Daniel in 2009 before his retirement. A secret less well known is that these spices have made their way into mixologists' cocktail programs, such as Summit Bar, Daniel, and Zahav in Philadelphia.
Following the lead of intrepid ancient explorers and inventive modern-day chefs and bartenders, I look forward to incorporating Amber No. 2 in a rub for a pork loin that I'll pair with a smoky Bloody Mary.
724 11th Ave
Manhattan, NY 10019
1/11/2011
Accustomed to seeing containers of salt and pepper underneath supermarket lights, one would find it difficult to imagine why countries in the Middle Ages would risk life and coin for the pursuit of mere condiments. However, taking a whiff of the fresh aromatics of Lior Lev Sercarz's spice blends helps the modern-day gastronaut appreciate why they were some of the most expensive and in-demand products of ancient times.
Although the grossly inconvenient weekday hours and long brisk walk from the subway impede a trip by the weary to La Boite a Epice, the more adventurous will be greatly rewarded. The gallery/kitchen storefront is rather modest, with a stainless steel kitchen counter for preparation of spices along the left-hand side of the room and a display of previous year's biscuit tins in the display window.
However, upon entering, this former Daniel chef will put on a spice display that is completely mind-blowing. From a bunch of plastic containers, Lior will pull out one-by-one blends for you to sample and perhaps taste. First was Amber No. 2, a mixture of ancho, annatto, mace, and brown sugar, with a sweet and pungently smoky flavor that trumps any BBQ blend. No. 18 was Smoked Cinnamon, which smells exactly as described, but with the aroma of musky, heady perfume. Lastly, was No. 33 Mishmish, a blend of crystallized honey, lemon, and saffron that smelled like the breeze of summer tradewinds.
La Boite a Epice's spice blends are already an open secret among professional chefs, with Corton's Paul Liebrandt, Fatty Cue's Zak Pelaccio, and Daniel Boulud among clients; in fact , No. 28 Vadouvan was one of the spices that Frank Bruni raved about in his dishes in his 4-star review of Daniel in 2009 before his retirement. A secret less well known is that these spices have made their way into mixologists' cocktail programs, such as Summit Bar, Daniel, and Zahav in Philadelphia.
Following the lead of intrepid ancient explorers and inventive modern-day chefs and bartenders, I look forward to incorporating Amber No. 2 in a rub for a pork loin that I'll pair with a smoky Bloody Mary.
Charles' Country Pan Fried Chicken
Charles' Country Pan Fried Chicken
2839-2841 Frederick Douglass Blvd
New York, NY 10039
1/10/2011
My trips as a child to Lexington Market in Baltimore incontrovertibly proved to me that good food becomes great when done simply and well: Utz Potato Chips, Faidley's crabcakes, and most vividly, Park's Fried Chicken.
I laughed when Hill Country conceived their gastronomic ode to Mama Els' and her famous fried chicken. Simple food become bad food when it has been extended to elaborate conclusions; why should one get fanciful over something that's taken out in a cardboard box? This made me look forward even more to a culinary field trip to an unassuming storefront in East Harlem where Charlie Gabriel has been cooking fried chicken for 25 years with a cast iron pan and seasoned all-purpose flour.
The cast iron pan is no more; according to Charlie, it has been retired to his basement and replaced with a stainless steel one of equal manhole size. But the triple-dip technique of seasoning the chicken overnight, dipping in egg wash, and dredging in seasoned flour remains the same, creating a luscious, crispy crust and chicken pieces that seethe in their own juice.
I have a traditional routine when tasting fried chicken. Thigh, wing, leg, thigh, all ordered preferably within one minute of coming out of the fryer. No breasts because they have the driest meat on the bird; two thighs since they have the best blend of fat and meat. The first two pieces had a nice crackly crust, but the skin and the meat had slightly cooled off after being out of the fryer for 20 minutes; the next two pieces were succulent, slightly spicy, and to borrow a well-worn and trademarked expression, finger-lickin' good (TM).
Despite the hubbub over fried chicken at places like the Commodore and Pies n' Thighs, there aren't too many secrets to making good fried chicken. In an underappreciated article by underappreciated food writer Francis Lam (http://www.salon.com/f...), Charlie actually provided the recipe and technique for his lauded fried chicken.
- Season chicken well ahead of time to allow the salt to work its way into the meat so the water seeps out.
- Season it well again with your flour.
- Make sure your oil is hot enough so the grease doesn't soak in.
- Make sure there is space around your chicken so that there is adequate heat circulating.
That's it. No secrets. Only technique. However, Charlie has about 25 years on you, so you might want to try his before trying it at home.
2839-2841 Frederick Douglass Blvd
New York, NY 10039
1/10/2011
My trips as a child to Lexington Market in Baltimore incontrovertibly proved to me that good food becomes great when done simply and well: Utz Potato Chips, Faidley's crabcakes, and most vividly, Park's Fried Chicken.
I laughed when Hill Country conceived their gastronomic ode to Mama Els' and her famous fried chicken. Simple food become bad food when it has been extended to elaborate conclusions; why should one get fanciful over something that's taken out in a cardboard box? This made me look forward even more to a culinary field trip to an unassuming storefront in East Harlem where Charlie Gabriel has been cooking fried chicken for 25 years with a cast iron pan and seasoned all-purpose flour.
The cast iron pan is no more; according to Charlie, it has been retired to his basement and replaced with a stainless steel one of equal manhole size. But the triple-dip technique of seasoning the chicken overnight, dipping in egg wash, and dredging in seasoned flour remains the same, creating a luscious, crispy crust and chicken pieces that seethe in their own juice.
I have a traditional routine when tasting fried chicken. Thigh, wing, leg, thigh, all ordered preferably within one minute of coming out of the fryer. No breasts because they have the driest meat on the bird; two thighs since they have the best blend of fat and meat. The first two pieces had a nice crackly crust, but the skin and the meat had slightly cooled off after being out of the fryer for 20 minutes; the next two pieces were succulent, slightly spicy, and to borrow a well-worn and trademarked expression, finger-lickin' good (TM).
Despite the hubbub over fried chicken at places like the Commodore and Pies n' Thighs, there aren't too many secrets to making good fried chicken. In an underappreciated article by underappreciated food writer Francis Lam (http://www.salon.com/f...), Charlie actually provided the recipe and technique for his lauded fried chicken.
- Season chicken well ahead of time to allow the salt to work its way into the meat so the water seeps out.
- Season it well again with your flour.
- Make sure your oil is hot enough so the grease doesn't soak in.
- Make sure there is space around your chicken so that there is adequate heat circulating.
That's it. No secrets. Only technique. However, Charlie has about 25 years on you, so you might want to try his before trying it at home.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Plan B
Plan B
626 Vanderbilt Ave.
Brooklyn, NY 11228
The first week of 2011 marks my journey to ironically, self-referential sports bars. First there was the road to Perdition, a surprisingly upscale joint on 10th Ave. that adequately describes the self-loathing one feels entering into any Hell's Kitchen bar, and now Plan B, which represents the default option when Plan A falls through and Plan C (drinking in your apartment) is simply too depressing.
Neither the beer selection (Bud Light/Coors Light/Michelob Shock Top/Brooklyn Lager) nor the wings are anything to rave about, but the local and friendly bartenders efficiently distribute suds and grub during game time. Most importantly, Plan B has two 40" flat-screen TVs behind the bar and three other TVs above the main dining room, so it is virtually impossible to miss out on any playoff action regardless where you stand in the bar.
Prospect Heights is one of the few neighborhoods where you can walk into a sports bar 10 minutes before kickoff and still grab a seat at the bar. Although the excitement and revelry of being surrounded by a horde of screaming fans might be lost (i.e. Blondie's in the UWS, Sidebar in Union Square), there is something to be said for a bar where you aren't harassed by annoying Steelers or Vikings fans who suffer the indignity of having teams led by quarterbacks targeted by sexual assault allegations.
626 Vanderbilt Ave.
Brooklyn, NY 11228
The first week of 2011 marks my journey to ironically, self-referential sports bars. First there was the road to Perdition, a surprisingly upscale joint on 10th Ave. that adequately describes the self-loathing one feels entering into any Hell's Kitchen bar, and now Plan B, which represents the default option when Plan A falls through and Plan C (drinking in your apartment) is simply too depressing.
Neither the beer selection (Bud Light/Coors Light/Michelob Shock Top/Brooklyn Lager) nor the wings are anything to rave about, but the local and friendly bartenders efficiently distribute suds and grub during game time. Most importantly, Plan B has two 40" flat-screen TVs behind the bar and three other TVs above the main dining room, so it is virtually impossible to miss out on any playoff action regardless where you stand in the bar.
Prospect Heights is one of the few neighborhoods where you can walk into a sports bar 10 minutes before kickoff and still grab a seat at the bar. Although the excitement and revelry of being surrounded by a horde of screaming fans might be lost (i.e. Blondie's in the UWS, Sidebar in Union Square), there is something to be said for a bar where you aren't harassed by annoying Steelers or Vikings fans who suffer the indignity of having teams led by quarterbacks targeted by sexual assault allegations.
Perdition
Perdition
692 10th Ave.
New York, NY 10019
Perdition (noun): A state of final spiritual ruin; loss of the soul; damnation
Strange that the name of a bar could encapsulate my experiences about going to almost every bar in Midtown West, but Perdition shockingly wasn't that bad.
With the exception of Ardesia and the cheesy-but-debaucherous Russian Vodka Room, you wouldn't find me within 10 blocks of Hell's Kitchen, but unfortunately, I was compelled by duty and obligation to meet up there for a colleague's birthday.
After living in a neighborhood where there is nary a TV to be found to watch football, Perdition is self-admittedly pretty solid for a local sports bar. There is a huge projection TV and about six flat screens flanking both the front and the back of the bar. My mood lightened as the Jets kicked a 32-yard field goal as time expired to defeat the Colts 17-16. Several generous shots of Jim Beam courtesy of my colleague's extremely liberal open bar policy helped too.
692 10th Ave.
New York, NY 10019
Perdition (noun): A state of final spiritual ruin; loss of the soul; damnation
Strange that the name of a bar could encapsulate my experiences about going to almost every bar in Midtown West, but Perdition shockingly wasn't that bad.
With the exception of Ardesia and the cheesy-but-debaucherous Russian Vodka Room, you wouldn't find me within 10 blocks of Hell's Kitchen, but unfortunately, I was compelled by duty and obligation to meet up there for a colleague's birthday.
After living in a neighborhood where there is nary a TV to be found to watch football, Perdition is self-admittedly pretty solid for a local sports bar. There is a huge projection TV and about six flat screens flanking both the front and the back of the bar. My mood lightened as the Jets kicked a 32-yard field goal as time expired to defeat the Colts 17-16. Several generous shots of Jim Beam courtesy of my colleague's extremely liberal open bar policy helped too.
Friday, January 7, 2011
The Milton Inn
The Milton Inn / 14833 Sparks Rd. / Sparks, MD 21152
The Milton Inn was constructed as an actual inn around 1740, and the fieldstone building was later converted into a restaurant in 1947. The place gets written up quite frequently in local press and travel guides; the various touches in this country manor-style dining facility (floral drapes, horse paintings, stone hearth, silk red curtains) make the Milton Inn a destination restaurant for those who want a elegant, private meal in an intimate setting. Additionally, the wine list is extremely comprehensive (especially those from California), a legacy from when Robert Parker, wine critic extraordinaire, used the restaurant for private wine tastings.
The $20 prix-fixe lunch (appetizer/entree/dessert) is an outright bargain - if not a steal - for the selection, quality, and country surroundings. I had the salmon rose, a beautifully arranged rillette surrounded by colorful dollops of minced red onions, pungent, green capers, and a white creme fraiche with a horseradish kick. The brook trout was clearly a dinner-sized portion, light and flaky, topped with an earthy, mushroom cream sauce. Following the courses was a sufficiently large vanilla creme brulee, topped with a trio of blueberry, blackberry, and raspberry.
I would have given this place a higher rating, but more contemporary restaurants like Woodberry Kitchen and The Charleston have far surpassed the Milton Inn in its execution of American-Continental cuisine...but then again, there is something to be said for upholding the Tidewater tradition.
Additionally, service was uneven in several instances. The lunchtime server couldn't navigate her way through the wine by the glass list, and had to ask the sommelier about the cheapest viognier. Likewise, the dessert followed the main course an uncomfortable 15 minutes after the main course.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Noodles & Company
Noodles & Company
825 Goucher Blvd.
Towson, MD 21286
1/5/11
Tapping into America's obsession with mass carbicide, Noodles and Company has built a 250+ unit empire across almost 20 states on a foundation of already cliched American, Mediterranean, and Asian-inspired pasta and noodle dishes.
Noodles and Company attempts to bring international flavors to suburbia, but deeming this effort would be like calling the International House of Pancakes the United Nations Ambassador of Breakfast: a faulty and inevitably mistake-prone analogy.
On a return trip to Baltimore, I stopped by the Towson location for a late afternoon lunch. I'm not a fine dining snob by any means, but I certainly didn't have high (or any) expectations for a chain-restaurant where one line cook churns out dishes as diverse as Penne Rossa, Japanese Pan Noodles, and Mushroom Stroganoff.
Out of sheer carb-induced curiosity, we decided to sample Asia (Pad Thai), Italy (Pesto Cavatappi), and the Heartland (Wisconsin Mac & Cheese). The Pad Thai had a metallic, sugary glaze, a syrupy reduction of my cumulative disappointment with cheap Thai takeout. The Pesto Cavatappi was a little better; although I appreciated that it was heavy on the parmesan, nevertheless, it was light on the basil and pine nuts. The Mac & Cheese was a surprising high note, with the cheesy pasta and herb-inflected meatballs nostalgically reminding me of the pallid Marie Callendar TV-dinners that I used to wolf down as a latch-key kid.
What impressed me though was the modern interior design and the efficient service. Within minutes of ordering, the line cook delivered a seemingly palatable noodle dish from the immaculate, stainless steel kitchen directly to the table. The restaurant was enjoyable to sit in: with deep, roomy banquettes and minimalist chairs, it looked like a larger, airier, version of Chipotle or a comfortable airport lounge.
825 Goucher Blvd.
Towson, MD 21286
1/5/11
Tapping into America's obsession with mass carbicide, Noodles and Company has built a 250+ unit empire across almost 20 states on a foundation of already cliched American, Mediterranean, and Asian-inspired pasta and noodle dishes.
Noodles and Company attempts to bring international flavors to suburbia, but deeming this effort would be like calling the International House of Pancakes the United Nations Ambassador of Breakfast: a faulty and inevitably mistake-prone analogy.
On a return trip to Baltimore, I stopped by the Towson location for a late afternoon lunch. I'm not a fine dining snob by any means, but I certainly didn't have high (or any) expectations for a chain-restaurant where one line cook churns out dishes as diverse as Penne Rossa, Japanese Pan Noodles, and Mushroom Stroganoff.
Out of sheer carb-induced curiosity, we decided to sample Asia (Pad Thai), Italy (Pesto Cavatappi), and the Heartland (Wisconsin Mac & Cheese). The Pad Thai had a metallic, sugary glaze, a syrupy reduction of my cumulative disappointment with cheap Thai takeout. The Pesto Cavatappi was a little better; although I appreciated that it was heavy on the parmesan, nevertheless, it was light on the basil and pine nuts. The Mac & Cheese was a surprising high note, with the cheesy pasta and herb-inflected meatballs nostalgically reminding me of the pallid Marie Callendar TV-dinners that I used to wolf down as a latch-key kid.
What impressed me though was the modern interior design and the efficient service. Within minutes of ordering, the line cook delivered a seemingly palatable noodle dish from the immaculate, stainless steel kitchen directly to the table. The restaurant was enjoyable to sit in: with deep, roomy banquettes and minimalist chairs, it looked like a larger, airier, version of Chipotle or a comfortable airport lounge.
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Some people are breast men. Others ass men. I'm a thigh guy.
Obviously, I'm talking about fried chicken.
The Commodore specializes in an extra crispy version where the the skin almost looks like it is jumping from the meat that it is attached. The crispy, crusty skin had the texture of chicharrones when they come straight out of the fryer: light, airy, crackly, but without any heavy greasiness.
The thighs didn't have the same juicy, meaty quality as Pies n' Thighs or Charles' Country Pan Fried Chicken (try saying that five times fast), but the lack of flava of the meat was more than rectified by a triumvirate of tasty sauces. The ketchup-tabasco remoulade had a nice sweet and spicy pungency; the tabasco sauce kicked it up a notch; and the sweet, creamy honey butter beckoned to be slathered over everything on my plate.
The Harpoon IPA proved to be a surprisingly excellent pairing with the fried chicken, as its dry hoppiness served a dual role of muting the spiciness of the ketchup-tabasco remoulade and cleansing the palate for more thigh action. I ordered another beer, the Williamsbrew, because I felt like being cheap and ironic.
Conclusion: Hipster chicken is finger lickin'.