The Weekend We Ate Our Trip

Intentionally, we set out to eat the cuisine of every country we'll be visiting later this summer and unintentionally we ate it in the order we'd be visiting those places. First off, there was Sakae Sushi, the Singapore-based international chain which just opened its second outpost outside of Asia last month here in NYC's Greenwich Village (the second is in Midtown). The gimmick is conveyor belt sushi, similar to numerous places in Tokyo, or so I'm told. And it's worth going to just for the experience, but once may be enough. You sit in a long row of booths as a conveyor belt with various types of Japanese fare passing by...there's rolls of all kinds, some bright red octopus, squid salad and the occasional nigiri. Each rests on a color-coded plate that denotes price and under a plastic cover. We grabbed a few plates of sushi and it was fine, although nothing memorable. We even took a plate of puffy doughy things that passed by but upon realizing they were miniature cream puffs and being nowhere near ready for dessert, we clandestinely replaced the cover and put them back into circulation. Therein lies one of the potential issues with such a setup: who's to know another patron hasn't previously pulled a dish from the belt, examined it, perhaps sneezed on it, and then replaced it? True, one has to have faith in the honor system, but here's a more vexing issue with the arrangement: I swear I saw the same plate of krabstick nigiri pass at least 8-9 times over the course of an hour -- same with that octopus -- all of which makes me wonder how long it's allowed to loop the booths before it's taken out of circulation? Seafood left out room temperature can only last so long. Anyway. For those who don't want to leave their entire dining experience to chance, there is a monitor and mouse at each booth, from which you can order any number of tempura, sashimi, sushi and various other entrees...we had better luck with that, except for the fact that the system was somewhat on the fritz, listing some items they weren't carrying that day (uni, for example) and did not register our table number, so the orders went to the kitchen without telling them exactly who had ordered them. A waiter tracked us down, fortunately, since it was pretty slow when we got there near the end of the lunch hour. Those were all good: highlights being a roll with cheese of all things, wrapped in a black sesame breading and some deep-fried rolls...more because they were interesting than anything else. In short, it was fun once. I don't think I'd return again. Next in our journey, we followed advice of the NYT and ventured downtown again to Rhong-Tiam, a relatively new Thai joint specializing in authentic Bangkok cooking, or so it said in its slogan. We started with Crispy Catfish with Green Mango Salad -- a dish our friend Julie, who lives in Bangkok, has raved about -- that's essentially shredded catfish pieces deep fried. What arrived was a plate covered with what looked like random bits from the bottom of the deep frier that were crispy and tasty bits of fish, made all the better when scooped up with the mango, lime and pepper salad in the accompanying bowl. A true hit. For entrees, we shared a plate of blue crab fried rice (tasty, although a bit fishy -- Alisa knows from her time in D.C. that blue crab is something of an acquired taste and actually top quality, but I'm not quite there yet). I got something called Pork on Fire, which that same Times article called a "contender for spiciest dish in the city." That line led me to ask if they could make it less "on fire." The waitress politely replied that she'd been asked that question before and the chef could not, believing compromising the heat would also compromise "the integrity of the dish." I absolutely respect that answer: cater do your customer's wishes when you can, but go too far and you actually end up misleading a customer into thinking the altered dish will be fine and thereby only compromising yourself when it's not. Keep it hot, then, I said and asked for a second glass of water. It arrived and although I confess to avoiding the whole chilis mixed in, it wasn't terribly hot at all. Nowhere near the four-alarm, almost inedible dishes we had at the much ballyhooed Land in our neighborhood last year. The pork was tasty, as promised, sprinkled with fried kaffir lime and thai basil leaves on top. It was a hit, although not so sublime that it wouldn't stand up against a tasty tender pork dish at a good neighborhood Chinese place. Alisa got the Tropical Mango Shrimp, which arrived with plump shrimp and peppers resting inside a beautiful mango bowl. Too bad it was all covered in a sickly sweet, bright red glaze. After one bite, Alisa pushed it to the side. The waitress, without even being asked, promptly took it back and removed it from our bill. She was fantastic and we let her know it by tipping her the entire cost of the dish. To finish up, we got mango with sticky rice -- perhaps the most simple southeast Asian dessert and arguably the best -- fresh, soft mango with porridge-like rice and a bit of creamy vanillia-like sauce with black sesame seeds on top. Alisa slightly favors the version at Cafe Asia in Arlington, which comes with a bit of honey, but we both agreed it capped off a great lunch, leaving us with three favorites in the city: Sookk, Thai Market and here. Sookk, however, appears to be the most economical. Finally, we closed out the culinary preview journey with a trip to the very recently-opened Cambodian Cuisine. Not the most interesting name, I admit, but in a city with only two Cambodian restaurants, it doesn't hurt to clearly impart your unique offering (the other is Kampuchea downtown, which we stumbled into last year and was good, but more focused on Cambodian street food and catering to a hipper downtown crowd, with its selection of interesting sandwiches and savory crepes). It turns out the restaurant has had quite a journey to opening, with the owner plunging deep into debt and facing numerous hardships in a two-year attempt to open on the Upper East Side after closing his smaller Brooklyn outpost years ago. It was well worth the effort. The decor is minimalist at best, not in a sleek, hip sort of way, but more in the haven't-had-time-to-decorate sort of way. But no matter. We started with Prawhet Kroeurng, which was four fried fish patties filled with lemongrass and basil, which were tasty and a good starter. I also got a Cambodian Iced Tea, which was a dead ringer for Thai Iced Tea, but still delish. For entrees, we shared Nom Bonchok Tuek Kary, a lemongrass curry with potatoes, bean curd, onions and water chestnuts that included vermicelli. We also got Tonle Saap Fish Chop, which was a beautifully steamed piece of tilapia in its own curry (you can also get it fried, or opt for salmon, but I feared a crispy crust may not allow it to absorb the sauce as well) atop perfectly cooked broccoli florets. Both were dishes delish, especially after they were gone and we used steamed rice to absorb all the remaining sauce. To finish, we had Songkhya, which was egg coconut pudding on brown rice served in a martini glass. Also delish. We'll be back and are hoping Cambodian Cuisine makes it.

Kyotofu

Months ago we discovered Tafu on 51st St. near Lex, which arguably has the best green tea in the city -- I'm a fan of the iced sencha, which has a wonderful clean grassy taste -- and its accompanying desserts, each with a green tea flavor. There are financiers (a fancy word for dense cookies, I've found), cheesecakes, cupcakes and even ice creams -- and not the blah green tea ice cream that often stands alone on the dessert menu and your neighborhood Asian restaurant -- these use the actual flavors of Matcha, Sencha and Genmaicha and somehow make them work well in a sweet dessert. I can't say I don't prefer a Mr. Softee cone to sweet toasted brown rice-flavored ice cream every day (Alisa can), but their desserts are original and always great. It took a bit of reminding over time, however, that the desserts at Tafu (which is tinier than our Manhattan apartment and has only four seats) are made at Kyotofu, a Hell's Kitchen nouveau Japanese restaurant where, we found after riding down there on our bikes Saturday, the savory entrees are just as good (if not better) than the sweets. We arrived while there were 3-4 other parties there, with a waiter and a waitress attending to everyone and a single chef in a tiny kitchen right up front, with glass windows looking in on her. The one-woman show may have been to blame for the relatively sluggish service, but no mind, we were hardly in a rush. We started with an order of cold green tea soba noodles that were fresh, tender and tasty, with a soy dipping sauce. Next, I opted for chicken and tofu tsukune burger with lotus root chips. It was delish, a very loosely packed patty brimming with a tangy teriyaki-like flavor on a soft brioche bun. The chips, with lots of holes in the middle, were crisply fried a golden brown. Alisa got the smoked salmon donburi -- tasty bits of loxlike salmon atop a puffy, almost crispy rice. Others sitting nearby got dishes we're eager to try next time, especially, for me, a artisanal cheese souffle and a kurobuta sausage puff. Each entree also came with a free cocktail as part of the brunch special. I got a Mimosa, Alisa got a Bellini (peach juice instead of OJ). For dessert, we got a chef's omikase (tasting) of five desserts: a mini chocolate cupcake and a sugary cookie, a berry tofu cheesecake (probably the best on the plate), a tofu version of flan, a dark chocolate cupcake with a gob of green tea icing on top and a panna cotta with soft apricot on top. Alisa was more of a fan than me of these, but I at least agree they were all worth trying. But for my money, the savories won out and will bring me back -- soon -- for more.

Dovetail

Hailed as one of the best new joints on the UWS, we scored a res. at Dovetail about a month before we were able to get in. It's easily missable, behind a glass door with the name artfully etched in beside routine apartment building entrances on 77th, caddy corner to the Natural History Museum. Decor was dark, sleek, clean and service was very attentive. We started off with a glass of wine (I got a Long Island sauvignon blanc that was OK, Alisa a Spanish white that was better) and they soon brought two individual loaves of white cheddar cornbread along with a trio of amuse bouche. The hot cornbread was yummy, although somehow the neandrathal American in me wanted it to be cheesier, looser inside, but still a nice starter. The amuse bouche were all good -- a radish on a toothpick with some grated cheese that tasted like parm, a teeny shrimp quesadilla on a fork and, the best of all, house-smoked salmon on a green, tofu-y cube. We started with chilled cauliflower soup with oysters in the middle, perched atop a little island of chopped apples, onions and pine nuts. Let me say here that I almost opted against the soup, in favor of some scallops with lime and caviar, but Alisa wanted the soup and, I have to say, I'm glad we got it. No cream or chunkiness, it was like a gazpacho, but more soothing and flavorful in the heat of summer and without the intense spice of its Spanish cousin. It would be one of the best things we ate there -- a statement that's not at all a dig at the joint, the soup was just really that good. Next we got gnocchi with blueberries, goat cheese and white truffle shavings. I think Alisa liked this one a bit more than me. While interesting, all the flavors never really came together for me. For our entrees, Alisa got a snapper with fava beans and a sea urchin broth. I got a cod with bacon, itty-bitty clams that were delish, polenta croutons and some leeks. Both of our fish were expertly cooked -- flaking apart into slices with just a bit of pressure from your fork. The problem was that while our sauces were tasty (as were the bacon bits and clams), the fish itself had nothing distinctive or particularly flavorful about them. They were just nicely cooked, quality pieces of fish...which just isn't enough. Dessert brought us back to the glory of the soup. We opted for a peanut butter tart with beer ice cream and pretzels. It was tasty, but not the highlight. Instead, that honor was reserved for one-third of our other dessert: an ice cream trio of lemon verbena, cinnamon and croissant. You guessed it: the croissant was mind-blowingly good -- like a sweet butter bomb in miniature scoop form. It was accented by what we first thought were bran flakes and then realized were croissant flakes (we think) at the bottom of the bowl. In all, a fine meal and a place we'll definitely return to, but perhaps in the fall or winter, when there's a whole new menu to try (a Bruni review from last winter suggested a totally different offering). But in short: cauliflower soup and croissant ice cream alone were worth the trip...the rest was fine, but not memorable.

Delta Grill

At the recommendation of my editor, a Mississippi native, who called it more or less the best southern food in NYC, we went with our friends Marlene and Steven to Delta Grill in Hell's kitchen. The Christmas lights and decor reminded me of Jacques-Imo's -- the New Orleans version, not the failed NY outpost. We ordered Abita on tap, a nice touch, and Alisa and I shared a crawfish pie ($9) appetizer, which was surprisingly good, not terribly far off from the mind-blowing shrimp and alligator sausage cheesecake at JI's (I actually got the recipe, which I'll post here if there's enough interest, from Jacques one night while he was totally hammered...which was pretty often). It wasn't really typical crawfish pie, however, since it arrived as a slice. I usually found crawfish pie to come in smaller, individual pies like the one at Tee Eva's back in N.O. It actually is amazing how many examples of BAD crawfish pie I had in N.O., however, especially the one at Franky & Johnny's. Alright, enough New Orleans name dropping for now (is it obvious that I miss it a bit?). Anyway, Marlene and Steven split an order of the fried green tomatoes ($9), which would have been great if the tomatoes were actually green! A sweet red ripe tomato just made the whole thing bizarre, since the key to the dish is a sour green tomato battered and fried. Not a good sign. Anyway. For entrees, Alisa and I each got an oyster po-boy $13), quickly realizing we could have split one. They were surprisingly good, although somewhat stingy with the corn-fried oysters (although ersters aren't near as cheap up here as they are plucked fresh from the Gulf down there). The bread worked fine, although it sure wasn't Leidenheimer French Bread, the loaves delivered in those trucks with the annoying Bunny Matthews cartoon on the side back in N.O. Steven got some jambalaya ($17) he seemed pleased with and Marlene opted for a mac and cheese ($6) side. I think we'd go back at some point.

A brief note on pastrami

After checking out the pastrami at Carnegie Deli, the reopened 2nd Ave. (albeit off 3rd), the Stage, Artie's, etc. I just have to go on record saying that every one of them stands second in line to Katz's. Given that pastrami's so damn bad for you, my new resolution, aimed at preserving my body, is to only eat pastrami from Katz's. The true record of just how f%*!ing good it is comes right when you order it and they slice a few scraps onto a tiny plate, slam it on the counter before you and let you eat it with your fingers while they make your sandwich. It's meat masking as butter. You've got to be pretty damn confident your pastrami is perfect to make a gesture like that. God bless Katz's. Reason #138 why I love this city.

BLT Market

After being introduced to BLT Fish last year by some friends and discovering BLT Burger on our own, we clued in to BLT Market (BLT, for the record stands for Bistro Laurent Tourondel, LT being the chef's initials...not lettuce tomato) and went with our friend Julie, who we're planning to visit in Bangkok later this summer. After bellying up to the bar solely to take advantage of a free nut sampler that included de-shelled pistachios (can I say that until you've had the pleasure of eating MORE than one pistachio at a time, you haven't really lived), we got our table and were greeted, for starters, with a hot dog amuse bouche (pictured just below). Specifically, a beef-and-pork hot dog, wrapped up in a homemade Gruyère-flecked pastry and topped with sauerkraut and mustard. He had me at the hot dog. We started with a "mache" salad, with greens I assumed were watercress until a Google search identified mache as "a little known salad green with a mild lettuce like flavor." But screw the green leafy veg. The best thing about it and the reason we ordered it was for the tiny deviled quail eggs that tasted like truffle. There were five in all in the salad and out of pure stupidity masked as chivalry, I gave the last two to Alisa and Julie. It will truly be one of the great regrets of this week. Anyway. We also got a spice-crusted yellowfin tuna app that was entirely forgettable. As we waited for entrees, they brought out a narrow bag with a hot baguette, cut down the middle and filled with what we thought was pesto but tasted like creamed spinach but was fantastic whatever it was. Awesome bread seems to be a staple at BLT restaurants...at BLT Fish they have the best cheddar biscuits ever. Anyway. We immediately asked for another and the waiter, perhaps not quite understanding what we wanted, arrived with more of those amazing hot dog things. Score! A minute after that he came with another loaf of the bread. I was loving this place beyond words by this point. For entrees, Alisa and I both opted for a brioche-crusted halibut with a lobster curry sauce, a special on the menu that night. The fish was perfectly cooked, but I have to confess it was just sort of bland, not arriving tucked inside the big doughy pastry I envisioned, just flecked with some some bread-y stuff on top. Alisa begged to differ. Not wanting it to arrive suffocating inside some thick, doughy mass, she liked the combination of subtle flavors. She also enjoyed the heavily braised cauliflower. Too me it just tasted like burned veggies. Julie opted for a veal chop with morel mushrooms that seemed like the better choice. I feel like there's more I should say about the entrees, but isn't it so common to be wowed by everything but the main course? Anyway. To finish, we got two kickass desserts: a Mango upside-down cake with jasmine green tea ice cream that was really good but quickly upstaged by what Julie said was the standout of the evening and I may have to agree: Popsicle Sorbet with warm Orange Blossom Madeleines. The sorbet, topped with what I think was a raspberry sauce, brought you back to the sidewalk beside the ice cream man during the summer before third grade as your Big Wheel awaited another roll down the street. All in all, a great experience.

La Kabbr

Taken by another Times piece, we ventured down to Hell's Kitchen -- the neighborhood, not the Gordon Ramsay restaurant from his annoying TV show of the same name (which, let's face it, is Top Chef for dipshits) -- to the only Iraqi restaurant in NYC. There's little to report. We started with La Kabbr Maza ($19.95), a sampler of hummus, baba ghannouj, tabouleh, etc. It was all good, with warm pita, but nothing memorable. We then ordered the spankopita ($12.95), which came with soup. The choices were chicken noodle or lentil. We chose lentil and tucked in, only to pull out short starchy noodles. "What does this taste like?" I asked. Alisa pondered the saltiness until it struck us. It was Lipton instant chicken noodle soup, the staple of any Gen X middle-class suburban childhood, apparently disguised by a top layer of lentil soup. Down went our spoons. Still went the soup. The spinach and feta under a layer of golden brown filo dough that arrived next was fine, but again unremarkable. So we can check visiting the only Iraqi joint in the city off our list. Once was enough.