Kutsher’s [Click the photo above to go to Kutsher’s website]
186 Franklin Street, New York, NY 10013
My pops offered to take me out to din and I obliged. I usually pick a spot in my neighborhood, but it’s the Tribeca Film Festival baby, lets pretend we’re celebrities and hang in TriBeCa instead, duh!
Made a rezie at Kutshers at 7:30 on Thirsty Thursday. My dad was pickin’ me up so I had no fears of catching a cab or finding my way downtown…I have NO sense of direction.
He told me he would get me at 7, but that old man was early for the first time eva, and I had to run around like a chicken without a head, trying to find pants with some give in them. I found a pair of wide-leg jeans, and hopped in the elevator.
We were zipping along downtown, as I told my dad my thoughts on dieting, what I try not to eat, what I want to eat, what I can’t eat, where I should work out (“I just need to eat in moderation, that’s all,” said the food blogger).
“Or you could just get mono again and lose the weight,” my dad says as he navigates away from a cab.
Everything was going fine and dandy until we hit Broome Street. GRID LOCK TRAFFIC. Nowhere to go. It was torture. All my great conversation pieces were being used up in the frontseat of the car.
“I’m starving!” my dad screams in the car (So that’s who I get it from).
Fortunately for us, there was a hotdog stand right outside our car. My dad pulls down his window, “Hey! Let me get a hotdog with sauerkraut and mustard.”
I had been preaching to him for the past 20 minutes the problems with our meat industry, because I am currently reading Skinny Bitch in the hopes I’ll become anorexic and not care about food, so I held back from ordering my very own hotdog (I had a bite).
“How ya gonna give up meat? It’s just too good,” my dad says as he takes down the hotdog.
We finally arrive at Kutshers, and we are seated at the modern Jewish eatery. What to get, what to get…
“Check out these cocktails!” My dad hits the menu to show me where to look. (he’s a big tapper when he talks… “you see the thing is…” tap tap tap)
If you went to Jew camp as my Dad and I did, you could appreciate a few: Bug Juice, Route 17, Café Canteen, The Anawana…you get the idea.
Ok, screw the drinks. I don’t need to waste my calories, what are we ordering??
We stare at the pair eating next to us, two guys with meat dishes (that sounds weird, sorry I thought it, you thought it, done). I peak over and immediately declare it’s the flanken short ribs. No doubt in my mind.
“We gotta get the meatballs,” my dad says as his pointer underlines the description on the menu.
“Ok, Dad fine, but I want the potato latkes.”
The waiter suggest the charcuterie, but my dad is like hell to the no. I just kept saying, “I did hear they’re known for their char-coot-er-ie.”
We also got crispy artichokes, because why not?
Mains? Should we share? I’m pretending to be a vegetarian (remember when we ordered meatballs?), so I got the kreplach, which is pretty much ravioli, whoops, and OF COURSE my dad went for the short ribs: we’ll share. Oh, and brussels sprouts, we love brussel sprouts.
“You ever been on JDate,” my dad starts.
“You know a lot of people on it?”
“I know people that are on it, and people that are not on it.”
“You dating anyone?” (hint hint hint hint)
Apps are yum, yeah I ate the meatballs, and they were good, so what.ev.er. The latkes were good, but not as good as my mom’s (are you reading this Mom?).
I’m starting to crack under this pressure. I need to contract mono and go on Jdate. Noted. Suddenly it’s just too much for me to bear…”It’s just so hard! I really didn’t picture myself at 25 (not 25 yet, a week away) at this job, in this apartment!”
“You just want a boyfriend.” THANKS DAD!
The waiter must have felt the pressure as well, because when he went to pick up the pitcher of water it slipped out of his hands and spilled everywhere. The kreplach was yummy with mushrooms and nuts. My dad put a small chunk of meat on my plate, as I ate the mashed potatoes directly off his plate.
“What’s your sister been up to? Who did she take to formal?”
“Show me a picture.”
“His hair was gel’d, it looks gray on Facebook.”
“Let me see.”
Dessert time. I wanted to get the ice cream sandwich, but the waiter steered us towards the chocolate cake…it was ok.
“Being sick sucks!” my dad exclaims to me. He just had strep throat, and if you spoke to him you’d think he was on his deathbed.
“You’re just being a guy.”
“I lost 5lbs from just eating soup and tea.” Ok, maybe you’re not being a guy.
We finish eating our 8 course meal…”how many people do you think are Jewish in here?” A good amount.
As he drives me back to my apt, he makes a wrong turn, and we end up going on a bridge to Brooklyn… “well, I don’t know the last time you were on the Manhattan Bridge, but you’re on it now,” he says. I see where my sense of direction comes from.
The bread was challah, and it was good! I’m down with this theme.
Kutsher’s (Milton short ribs and brisket meatballs)
Really yummy. It’s like a mini Jewish holiday meal.
Kutsher’s (potato latkes)
Solid. They don’t taste like my mama’s, but I’m still happy we got them.
Kutsher’s (pan roasted brussels sprouts)
We ordered too much, and didn’t really touch them, so leftova for me!
Kutsher’s (red wine braised flanken style short ribs)
Short ribs, mashed potatoes. It’s meat and potatoes. It’s what you think it is. It’s good and unhealthy.
Kutsher’s (wild mushroom and fresh ricotta kreplach)
So I ordered pasta, judge me. fine! Skinny bitch said it’s ok, sorta. I didn’t finish it, and I am sticking to it. 2 pieces of kreplach aren’t going straight to my ass (who am I trying to convince?)
Kutsher’s (seven layer’s devil food cake)
Cake was ok, I declared that they need a chocolate meltaway on the menu…you’re welcome for that suggestion.