Memories of a Babka

As you may or may not know, there was a fire in the brick building at the 575 Broadway on the corner of Prince in Soho. It's the building that housed Interview Magazine, Lure Fishbar, the Prada flagship store and among other places, it was the location of my first fulltime NYC job. The Guggenheim rented what was gallery space from the owner (Peter Brant, husband of model Stephanie Seymour-remember her from the Guns N Roses videos?) before Prada came along, and the second floor housed the Guggenheim Books Department. I think they were still located there, that is until the fire. I loved that space. I thought it was like the loft in "After Hours". My desk was literally plywood on filing cabinet, but I thought the office was so glamorous. Jeff Koons' vacuum cleaners encased in plexiglass were housed right across from the elevator banks.
I can only remember two food memories from the job. The views from my boss' windows looked right over Broadway, so I could easily decide on which hotdog vendor to go to for lunch just by looking down through them. I liked to alternate between the two vendors. They both grilled their dogs, but one was younger and cuter, so I probably went to him more. When I left the job after a year, I remember my boss got two big Chocolate Babkas from Dean and Deluca as a good bye send off. I'd never had babka before but I became a fast fan. I like the traditional cinnamon babkas, but for there's nothing like the D&D chocolate babka. Or so I thought until I went to Russ and Daughters (179 E.Houston) to get some dried fruit and saw their chocolate babka. I'll be honest, I didn't buy any because I had just eaten the coconut cream donut, but I will be eating it this weekend for sure. It looks amazing. Look at all those chocolate layers!
But back to 575 Broadway... I've been noting the changes in the building for the past month and couldn't resist taking a quick picture of the huge condom looking plastic bags flying out of the windows. My pal Jenny, who is a buyer for Prada told me that it's rumored that some pesky American Eagle employee (they rented the store next to Prada) didn't extinguish a cigarette properly. I don't think they're going to have a fire sale, but she said she'll let me know.

'ino beats egg

truffledeggtoast
Originally uploaded by i_eat_ny.

I’m excited about the anonymous comment we received on the entry about Egg. It means that more than my three friends comment because no one I know would call me fat. Pleasantly plump, yes. But fat, no. That said, what’s wrong with having a spare tire or a little junk in the trunk? They’re the reason movie theater seats are big and comfy. Some of my favorite people are fat right now: Janet Jackson, Santa Claus, Liza Minnelli. If I go to the gym and I see a fellow pepper pot sweating it out, she inspires me. If she can do it, I can do it. Hell, I wish there were more fat folks in NYC, then I wouldn’t look so pudgy.
Anyway, I’ve decided that the commenter might be Pamela Anderson because she referred to eating at KFC. KFC may be a death camp for chickens, but at least it’s inexpensive. That’s all I have to say about that because I love fried chicken, but not Kentucky Fried.
If the reader comprehended correctly, she’d note that I never said anything bad about Egg. She’d notice that all I said was that I wished they served the biscuit sandwich with a side of eggs. Hells bells, the restaurant is called Egg! I left the place unsatisfied, not just physically, but emotionally. That little sandwich cost me $6.50 and the coffee was $1.50, but I didn’t finish it because it got bitter in the French press. That’s ten bucks gone, and I probably had to eat lunch because brunch wasn’t filling.
If I had gone to Enid’s, I could have gotten the hungry bear biscuit sandwich with eggs, sausage and gravy and my choice of potatoes, grits, collard greens, spiced apples, or blackbeans and rice for 8 bucks. I can’t remember if coffee comes with, but you get free refills. The wait staff is generally very nice and very attractive. Plus the jukebox is terrific. As long as you go early, it’s simply a better choice than Egg.
Well, whatever. No need to get defensive. Let’s move on to a dish that makes Egg seem positively sterile. If you want greatness, go to ‘ino (21 Bedford St. bw Houston & Downing). Their signature dish, truffled egg toast is probably the most sensual breakfast food. I have no idea if the ingredients are organic. They are simple elements on their own, but they add up to a very sexy textural (sextural?) experience. The meal itself is small, but it’s perfect. It’s a piece of thick toast with a soft egg prepared over easy, a melted slice of good Italian cheese, some fresh asparagus rounds and decadent truffle oil drizzled on the fancy toad in the hole. The warm smell of the truffle oil adds that unique earthiness and the when the egg is punctured, you have to eat slowly to savor the texture of the liquid gold on the firm bread. It’s difficult because you want to continue to fill your mouth with more of those flavors. You don’t want the deliciousness to end. It’s also hard to take a picture after you’ve pierced the egg. I didn’t want my yolk to get cold, so I only took one shot.
The restaurant space is very limited, so you do have to be skinny to get into those little tables, but if you’re big boned, just go to the larger sister restaurant, ‘inoteca (98 rivington at Ludlow) I don’t think they serve a brunch, but they have the TET for 7 bucks at breakfast from 8am-noon.

Donut as Drug and Holy Salvation

When my family first moved to Roanoke Virginia in the eighties, we lived in a hotel located within the Kmart plaza while our house was being built. My middle sister Lena likes to refer to these months as our refugee period. We’d been living down south for a few years, so our old NY tradition of getting bagels after church had ended because they just didn’t exist back then. We’d moved states twice before, so we were an adaptable bunch and Dunkin’ Donuts was just across the street from our hotel. So after church, we’d walk across the road to get a box of donuts. Thank God, for the dozen because I’ve always had trouble deciding between the Boston Cream and the Apple Cinnamon filled. To this day, donuts are my drug of choice. I can not say no to a donut.
Especially if it’s a Donut Plant Donut. I am not a fan of Emeril Lagasse, but I watched his show a couple of years ago because he went behind the scenes at the Donut Plant (379 Grand Street between Essex & Norfolk Streets). This place has been written up everywhere and for good reason. The donuts are AMAZING.
If you like coconut, and you haven’t had the Donut Plant coconut crème filled donut, than you have not lived fully. This donut should be illegal because it’s so damn good. I don’t care that it costs $2.50. I don't care that it's fattening. The ingredients are organic and the company is local. It’s worth it. Using mere words to describe this heavenly creation is a joke, but I’ll try. The owner designed the square shape so that the filling is in every single bite and not just poked into the middle like your average filled donut. Genius! The dough is light and yeasty (I’ve not tried their new cake donuts, but they look great) and the perfect icing is flecked with fresh coconut flakes. And the filling. Oh, that filling. It’s the type of stuff you just want to dive into, spread all over your face, wallpaper your walls with, make a house out of. Take my word for it. If it's the last thing you do, you must eat this donut. Available at the flagship Dean and Deluca store on Prince and Broadway and the to go kiosk on Prince.

Begone VD!

ted's gift
Originally uploaded by i_eat_ny.

Valentine’s Day is over. I was going to give suggestions for inexpensive (under $10) but nice gifts for your favorite foodies, but I never had the time at work. I was going to say stuff like, save the chocolates and flowers for when you shoot your best friend and need to say I’m sorry. My suggestions were going to be: local honey (for allergies and sore throats), exotic salts (I just bought a pretty cork container of Fleur de Sel for a thank you gift. I had a hard time deciding between that one and the Balinese salt stored in a shiny brown coconut, but the nut was pricier), Maille (I saw Maille honey mustard at National Wholesale Liquidators for 3bux), truffle oil (so you can make ‘ino or inoteca’s truffled egg toasts at home because both restaurants are constantly crowded), or Rick’s Pick’s phat beets (All of his pickled veggies are great. I do think they are expensive at 10 bux, but they make a good gift.) All this stuff can be found at Dean and Deluca where I went this morning for the thank you gift. I just want to tell you that their website lies, the store on Prince and Broadway opens weekdays at 7 or 7:30 am.
But if your local gourmet shop is closed remember that nothing says I love you like the Criterion Collection’s Fassbinder box set. (Thanks, Josh!)

Buenos Dias, miha

Friday mornings when I see the tamale lady at the carwash on 6th Ave. and Watts, as Whitney says, I get so emotional. My excitement rises with the steam coming from the oversized cooler of pork, chicken and sweet tamales. I haven’t tried the sweet ones yet because I love me some meat in the morning. As she wraps my tamales in paper towels, I feel joy that I don’t have to eat another dry bagel on the craft services table at work. All week I look forward to slipping off those moist cornhusk wrappers to get to that soft corn meal and succulent flesh inside. Is this post is getting a little pervy?
I like to treat myself to a cup of her arroz con leche. After four days of brown water with skim, I mix the sweet cinnamon milk with the office coffee and it turns into the best café latté without all that pesky foam. The rice in the drink turns a pretty shade of mahogany that I’ll eat for a snack later if I feel like it, or not. I figure it only cost a buck and I get two cups of coffee from it, so I don’t feel too guilty tossing it.
I marvel that the tamale lady only charges a buck for these babies. I wish I spoke Spanish, so I could ask her,"How many of these little gifts do you make?". I hope it’s profitable. I hope she hasn’t been ticketed by the police. It’s well documented that they ticket for nonsense violations as well as lack of licenses. It sucks for an individual who just wants to make some pocket money and to serve an underserved community. Notice I won’t tell you what time she deals these treats unless you email me and there’s no photo of her sweet face. I don’t want to get her in trouble if she’s undocumented as a legal vendor.

Talk about Patties and other Name dropping

It's been a month since I've seen a film in the movie theater. I think that's the longest I've gone without a proper screening. Luckily my friend Dave has magic passes and we scheduled a Saturday movie marathon. It was AWESOME! I saw Tristan "Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story" (bloody hilarious. Michael Winterbottom is a genius, but save for rental or Netflix), "Something New" (Romantic comedies are my least favorite genre but I laughed out loud a lot!) and "The New World" (This may be a financial flop and probably Terrence Malick's last film, but in time it will be regarded as an undervalued masterpiece. Enjoyed it much more the second time around on the big screen).
I knew that I would be in the movie theater all day, so I needed to grab a snack or else I'd be eating overpriced concessions for breakfast. I was passing Daphne's Express (233 E 14th St bw 2nd & 3rd Ave) and noticed through the window that a fresh tray of patties was being placed in the warming display. I don't know if Daphne's makes the patties on site, but they serve the usual beef, chicken and vegetable. I generally get the veggie because I like to think it's healthier. Cabbage, carrots and onion sweeten up the wheat crust making what is essentially a Carribean empanada or hot pocket. And at a buck fifty, the patty is a good snack even if it's not the best. I think the best patty place is in Park Slope Brooklyn. I stumbled upon it while waiting for brunch with Jessica at Biscuit. I just looked up Biscuit to check the address because it was right across from Christie's, and I've learned it has closed! Too bad, they had a yummy egg and bacon sandwich. Anyway, Christie's (334 Flatbush & Park Place) makes patties and other Carribean delights daily. Try them if you're out there. You won't be dissapointed.
But back to Daphne's in Manhattan, I have to say that I was a bit disappointed with Daphne's ginger beer. I almost ordered the sea moss drink, it contains sweetened condensed milk, or ting, a grapefruit beverage. But I wanted to compare Shirley's $1.50 ginger brew to Daphne's $3 version. Daphne's had too much lemon and not enough ginger for my taste. Shirley's contains more pure ginger and can be used almost like a concentrate with seltzer or in a recipe.

Take the Cannoli and Courvoisier

Where is the best cannoli in the city? Somewhere on Arthur Avenue in the Bronx? I wish I knew. The ones I’ve tasted in Manhattan have been just okay. The gold standard of cannoli for me was at my grandmother’s funeral dinner. There are four things that I remember from that day. Grandma looked like she was sleeping; my oldest sister cried; it’s fun to twirl spaghetti with a fork and spoon; and you shape cannoli shells with a clothes pin. Just wrap the dough around an old fashioned clothespin, bake and fill with delicious cream.The closest cannoli to my apartment is at Three of Cups (corner of E.5th St. & 1st Ave.) It’s the neighborhood place I go when I don’t know where to eat. The portions are large enough to share, and they give you free focaccia! Watch out though, sometimes they’ll charge you $2.50 for seconds of bread. That’s actually a good thing because of my bread addiction. The additional charge prevents me from ordering more. There’s also a salad with watercress and endive that I like a lot. It’s a mountain of cress with thin shreds of endive, walnuts, gorgonzola cheese, and polenta croutons. Those “croutons” tend to be a bit mushy so I always think it’s eggplant, and I think eggplant would actually be better. But nothing’s perfect. Mica and I ate there last month with her parents and the Fusilli Bolognese and Rigatoni a la Vodka was rather salty, but because we were seated between 6 and 7pm (Mon-Thur), 20 percent was knocked off the check, so the offense didn’t seem so bad. It worked out fine; the leftovers mixed with home cooked pasta were perfect! Three of Cups isn’t a dining destination, you won’t dream about the food later. Rather, it’s a solid choice if just want to enjoy the company of your friends and eat a decent meal. The picture above is from Sunday dinner with Derrick. He says it encapsulates everything that's good about life: drinking, eating, and licking. I think it looks like a cannoli eating contest. Where do you go when you want to enjoy the good life?

Something New

Last Saturday I rode over the Williamsburg Bridge to check out Brian’s new digs. I’m happy to report that you no longer have to post like a British horseback rider over the Bridge because those awful yellow metal speed bumps have been removed. It was still really hard for me to ride to W’burg, because I was weak. Weak from not having coffee and eating nothing but a slice of toast that morning! The problem was both of us were broke. And the glass of Manhattan’s Best espresso soda we shared at his fab bachelor pad just wasn’t cutting it. So we took a long walk to curb my cravings, but it really didn’t help. I needed something to eat! We ended up at Settepani (602 Lorimer St. 718.349.6524) an Italian bakery that I knew would have cheap coffee, delicious sweets and no mob of loud brunchers. I had two bucks to spend, a small drip coffee was 75cents, and I wanted something with protein, so I pointed to the mini sfiogliatelle. It looked like it had cheese in it. I remember like it was yesterday, that pastry and Brian's company made me happy. The ricotta cheese was lightly sweetened but wasn’t heavy or clumpy like the filling in a cheese Danish. I think my favorite part was the actual pastry. The layers of puff pastry were surprisingly crunchy, like the texture of a kettle fried potato chip! Google showed me that sfogliatelle (SFOH-l' yah-TEH-leh) is Italian for little sheets. Oh and look carefully at those sandwiches pics. It's food trompe l’oeil!