KOTOBUKI [Click the photo above to go to Kotobuki’s website]
56 3rd Avenue (between 10th and 11th Street)
New York, NY 10003
After a relaxing day on the beach, nothing says Sunday Funday more than a yummy sushi meal.
I had just gotten off the train from Penn Station, still in my bathing suit (don’t worry I had a cover-up on), to have a complete stranger tug at my dress and tell me she could see my butt (it’s just a bikini bottom so my embarrassment was minimal), then to receive a prank phone call (yes I swear to Gd a prank phone call), and then finally a call from my friend asking to go to Kotobuki with her (ding ding ding ding, winner!).
The Long Island sushi spot recently opened a New York outpost, and it attracts the same exact crowd. Essentially it’s the new and improved Mizu, so it’s Jap.City.
Don’t use last names when talking smack about your friends, your latest hook-up, your last hook-up, ex boyfriend, roommate…you get the idea, because I can guarantee you that the person next to you knows them.
My friend has a full blown phobia of this, so the food must be pretty legit for her to want to come here. We arrive, and are seated. I got the booth seat, because I was tired from train ride yay!
We order drinks, and a second waiter comes over asking if we need any drinks. My friend stares at him for a second and goes, “I think you were my waiter last time I was here.”
“Well, it looks like I’m going to be your waiter again.” (best friends, I’m left out)
The menu is 7 pages. Why?
“The salad is amazing here. You have to write about the sesame seeds in it.” (consider it done)
So we each order two green salads. Sounds tame so far, right? JUST WAIT.
“Should we just share since you know what’s good here?”
“We can definitely share.”
I see some section labeled professional/specialties, I then see an appetizer labeled k-mac rolls, like a sushi burger. Ordered!
Salad and 1 appetizer. So far so good.
Mains are another story. 1 special roll is agreed upon. Now what do we do? That is not enough!!
We decide to each do a personal roll. My friend orders the Spicy Girl, I opt for the Philadelphia roll, and we each order a piece of sushi (ok ok I ordered 2 pieces).
Then the dishes arrive. It felt like a drive-by eating. It all came so fast, and we barely stopped to breathe.
You know you’re eating too much when you have to decide between talking and eating, and when you decide to speak you realize your mouth is filled with spicy tuna.
“When was the last time you texted?”
“Can I read the text message?”
Covering mouth with hand to hide food, “Yeah hold on.”
The waiter tells us that they are out of the uni sushi we both ordered. We order replacement sushi pieces (we did not need it).
“Can I try your Spicy Girl?”
“Yes!”
“Do you want a Philadelphia roll?”
“I’ve never had one before. Will I like it?”
“It’s like a mini bagel and lox, but I won’t be offended if you don’t like it.”
“I love the Spicy Girl!”
“I love the Philadelphia roll.” (HOW FAT ARE WE??)
There is one roll left on the table. I can’t remember if it’s mine or not.
“Is this one yours?”
“It’s yours.”
“Come here buddy!” as I finish the last bite.
Kotobuki (Green salad:romaine & iceberg – ginger dressing)
Great dressing, and the right amount of sesame seeds. Yum!
Kotobuki (K Mac sliders: spicy tuna sandiwched between a “crispy rice bun” with some tobiko sprinkled on top)
Yes, this was delicious! Slightly difficult to eat, but not as bad as you may think. I mean it’s questionable date food, but what isn’t?
Kotobuki sushi dinner.
Yeah, this is our dinner. Judge us. I don’t care.
Kotobuki (crazy roll: tuna inside, spicy crab on the outside, tobiko, avocado roll topped w/ diced fish, tempura flakes, scallions & spicy mayo concoction)
It’s like the sushi bar threw a party on top of my sushi. It’s always a skinny moment when you’re scooping up what you couldn’t fit on the roll, and eating it like it’s an extra side dish.
Kotobuki (spicy girl roll)
Sorry I couldn’t find a description of it, but it’s spicy tuna on top, and that’s all you need to know. It’s great. It’s sort of creamy (sorry if you hate that word some people do), so beware if you don’t like that.
Kotobuki (Philadelphia roll)
How do you eff this up anyway? Fab.
Lattanzi [Click the photo above to go to Lattanzi’s website]
361 West 46th Street (between 8th and 9th avenue) New York, NY 10036
The best thing about going to a Broadway show is the dinner before the show, at least in my book.
I’m not a theatre girl, never have been, never will be. I hate fighting over the arm rest with strangers (or my sister), I hate the line for the bathroom at intermission, I hate the slow sad songs, and over animated theatre people weird me out. So, I was not excited to sit in an itchy chair and see “Once” to say the least. (I I know it won a million Tony’s, but they don’t even do a Fashion Police segment on it so please, it’s not a real show) I went because my mom wanted a girls’ night with my sister and me.
I spent my Friday nursing a hangover, and trying to pump myself up for this show. I shoveled in a bacon egg and cheese, and listened to Bernadette Peters sing “Broadway Baby” on YouTube (yes, this is really how I spent my Friday at work).
Dinner was at Lattanzi on Restaurant Row (Italian restaurant with a Jewish twist).
Lets be real, there was no way I was taking any form of public transportation with a day-long hangover, so I hopped in a cab and let it be my nap time.
I got there rather quickly considering I had to get across town at 6pm on a Friday.
“Left or right side?” The cab driver asked.
“Um, whatever side is good.” (I had no idea where I was going)
I find the restaurant after a few wrong turns (I’m an idiot), and my mom and sister arrive shortly after.
The bread basket is placed in front us, and I could not have dug in faster.
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
Do I drink to help the hangover, or do I get something caffeinated so I wake up? ALCOHOL.
“Can I see your wine list?”
The waiter hands me the wine list, and I realize I know nothing about wine.
Without even opening up the menu I just ask, “What’s your lightest red wine by the glass?”
I don’t even hear his reply, “I’ll have that.”
My sister gets wine, and my mom gets a club soda (boo).
I see the menu has an artichoke appetizer, “Jewish style.” I had no idea there was Jewish way to cook artichokes, but my mom thinks it’s just the funniest, and orders them. I get a house salad, because I’m about to choke down black pasta with seafood as my main, so better to save my appetite.
My sister gets a caprese salad, and rolled pasta. My mom wants the same dish as me, but she’s allergic to tomatoes (every meal she tells the waiter, “I’m HIGHLY allergic to tomatoes.” She breaks out in hives. It’s annoying, but sometimes really funny to watch her freak out).
Since the black pasta comes with tomato sauce, it makes sense for her to order something else, so she begrudgingly orders the veal. I weirdly do not have one of those moms that tells me to order the fish.
“I miss tomatoes.” (she acquired the allergy with age)
“We know mom!”
Appetizers come, and we quickly distribute little bites to each other of our dishes.
“What’s this play about anyway.”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t know.”
I whip out my phone and look up a brief description of the play.
“The mozzarella cheese is melted. Yes!”
“Can we get pepper please?”
My house salad was just lettuce, but I ate it like my life depended on it. The mains arrive super fast.
“They must be used to having people run to the theatre afterwards,” says my mom.
“Makes sense.”
“Well, we have a lot of time, so let’s eat slowly,” (good one).
My spaghetti was sort of simple, but my mom’s veal was stuffed with cheese, and that was a great surprise. My sister had pasta with ricotta cheese and tomato sauce, so there was no way she wasn’t finishing that.
“I don’t even care. I drank last night, and my diet restarts tomorrow,” I announce.
Our plates are cleared, “do you want the dessert menu?”
DUH.
“Can I get a cappuccino with skim milk?” My sister asks. Yep, the skim milk will totally save you from what you just ate.
“We only have whole milk.”
“Ok, I’ll still get it.” (you can’t deter us)
Napoleon ordered as well.
I then forklift myself up and trek to the theatre. When we arrive, the cast is singing on stage while people are being seated.
“Theatre people are so weird.”
“I know.”
Lattanzi (Mozzarella E Pomodoro: homemade mozzarella and fresh tomato with extra virgin olive oil and basil)
Surprise surprise, they melted the cheese a bit! The tomatoes were plump and not too mushy, too bad my mom couldn’t have any of it.
Lattanzi (arciofi Alia Giudia our signature dish of artichokes cooked jewish style; sauteed with garlic and olive oil)
If you like artichokes it’s a great app. Enough said.
Lattanazi (Insalata Mista mixed greens with endive and radicchio in a house vinaigrette dressing)
Your basic house salad. I ate it to hold me over so I wouldn’t keep eating the bread basket.
Lattanzi (veal stuffed with cheese and a side of roasted vegetables)
This was a special so I don’t have the fancy pants title of this dish. However, I really liked it. Maybe it’s because I try to not eat red meat, so when I do it’s super exciting, but it was a solid dish.
Lattanzi (black spaghetti in a spicy tomato sauce with seafood)
I would have liked a little more heat to the dish, but if you have a sensitive palette this is a good dish to order.
Lattanzi (Rotolo Di Spinaci E Ricotta: homemade rolled pasta filled with ricotta cheese and spinach topped with tomato sauce)
If you’re going to splurge on a serious pasta dish, this is a good one to do it with. I’d say the portion is equivalent to two giantic pasta shells.
Lattanzi (napoleon)
So.good. I’m a sucker for napoleons, so it was a great way to end the meal.
I just want to apologize to my “many” followers aka my cousins and like 2 friends who read this for not posting that much lately. I’ve been trying to shrink my hips and butt for summer, and that means no eating out for extravagant 3 course meals. Weird, I know.
Instead of posting my incredibly entertaining stories, I have been posting links to food articles I like. As my cousin so nicely pointed out, “I can just look these articles up myself,” I am still posting another link.
I like to think of myself as your personal food filter for note worthy articles. (She also politely told me that I need to check out a map since I rarely take the subway or bus…deal with it)
So I promise to fatten up soon and go out to dinner, in the meanwhile [Click the photo above to read, What’s on Your NYC Bucket List?]
Kin Shop [Click the photo above to go to Kinshop’s website]
469 6th Avenue (between 11th and 12th Street) New York, NY 10011
It was my birthday this past weekend, and I managed to squeeze 5 meals out of it (I know what was I thinking?). I decided to not blog my meals so I could be “present” (I don’t know), but by meal # 5 I figured it was time to get back into it.
My last and final birthday meal was at Kinshop with my two girl friends who…like to eat (I am never allowed to tag them in these posts, because I write things like that).
I was just a fatty all day, and wanted to stay healthy for dinner, which I mean, we all know was pretty unlikely. My friends had also had “fat days” (I ate this at 11, then this, then this, then is…is that bad? Are we Judy from SNL?), so we were all thrilled that we were on the same page for dinner.
“Wait, you want to be healthy too?”
(I feel like we were happy, but also disappointed that there was no one to push us to get noodles)
“Your lipgloss looks great! Did you wear it for us?”
(Did I? I flash back to me putting it on, did I do it for them?? I don’t know maybe)
“Yeah.”
Back to serious business: this menu. My friend kept going, “it’s light. It’s light Thai food.”
Reading the menu I was not exactly feeling it was light when everything came w something fried or meaty.
I only participated in the vegetable input. I felt overwhelmed.
The waiter comes over to take our order, and we begin.
“Whats the fluke like?”
“It’s sort of like sushi.”
“Ok, we’ll get that.”
“The shrimp.”
“How many for each of you?”
“How many do you recommend?”
“I’d say two each.” We should have gotten 3 each, healthy my ass.
Fluke down, shrimp down, bibb salad ordered, and stir fry vegetables with water chestnuts also added to the mix. What do we get next? This clearly is not enough.
My friend decides to include our waiter in our brainstorming, “We’re all sort of on a diet, so what do you recommend.”
He starts pointing towards the noodle section, and it was like in one ear, out the other.
We opt to order 2 soups to share between the 3 of us: tomato soup, and meatball soup.
As the waiter leaves, I notice he’s sort of cute (is he gay? Probably, I tend to like gay men for some reason, I’ll just keep this to myself)
“It’s going to be so awkward when the waiter sees us attacking our food after we told him we’re dieting.” Woops.
“What’s going on with your friend and that guy?”
“It’s over.”
“As soon as they became exclusive?”
“Yep, she let her freak flag fly way too soon after getting the exclusive title.”
“Big mistake.”
“Totally, you need to wait until you know they love you before they know how nuts we are.” True that.
Fluke comes! It is served on these funky leaves that I proclaimed were “fuzzy,” and my other friend identified as “cilantro like.” It had nice flavor, but we all agreed they need to make it more lettuce wrap like.
“It needs a different leaf.”
Bibb salad is placed in front of us. Bibb lettuce is fun, because the leaves are huge and buttery, but it’s sort of hard to serve and eat. It was really yummy though, and I loved that it was served with plums and pumpkin seeds. Great combo.
“Is that a gel manicure?”
“Yes, do I need to get it redone?”
“No, it looks great. It doesn’t look like you got it yesterday, but it looks good!”
“Okay good, I don’t want to get it done again.”
“I don’t like mine.”
My other friend throws her hands in front of us and goes “Look at mine!”
She got a new greyish purple (I feel like she’s going to read this and tell me that was not the color so sorry in advance!) and she was wiggling her fingers in the hopes to get some attention on them.
Shrimp arrives. Spicy with a peanut-ish sauce on the side. I use the word ish, because if it’s not what it really is than I feel bad. It was delic, but my friend sucked the head off one and told us it was great, and my head was empty, so that was disappointing. We only ordered 6, and they only had 5 left! For G-d’s sake I wanted every bite to count.
Soup comes, I tried to avoid the meatballs (Skinny Bitch remember), and failed per usual, I’d like to say it was worth it. Tomato soup was thicker than I thought it was going to be. Good, but I thought it would be on the healthier side.
As we’re finishing up, all of our phones are on the table, and I can see one friend texting the other, I’m like “OH MY GD THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT ME.” They were, but only because they wanted to get me a candle 🙂 Sweet right?
By the end of the meal I had drank a lot of water (food was spicy!), and had to use the restroom, which was of course downstairs (stop it NY with that), and as I was strutting up the steps to get back to my table I see the waiter at the top of the staircase, and I trip. Yes, I tripped.
“Happy birthday!” he says.
“Thanks.” Definitely gay.
Kin Shop (bibb salad: plum, toasted sunflower seeds & pickled mustard seed vinagrette)
I weirdly love seeds, and mustard seeds are very strong in flavor, and plums are sweet, so I was into this.
Kin Shop (miang of fluke: lycheese, shiso leaves, chili jam & fried garlic)
Pretty right? Nice little bites, but fuzzy, so a little weird.
Kin Shop (stir fry of aquatic vegetables: water spinach, water chestnuts & watercress)
I actually forgot to take a picture of this, because I ate it VERY fast. So, don’t hate, I stole this pic. I would say this dish tasted most like classic Chinese food in a brown sauce: that’s the only way I can think of to describe it.
Kin Shop (house speciality: grilled prawns with fresh lime & phuket style” black pepper sauce.
I want to label this as clean flavors. My friend got a really spicy bite though and sorta freaked out.
Kin Shop (steamed pork meatball soup: crispy garlic, bok chyshoots & black soy sauce)
I was apprehensive about this, because I thought it would be too salty, but it wasn’t! You can also see the steam of how hot it came out. It was one of the only dishes we ordered that wasn’t spicy, so it complimented everything well.
Kin Shop (garam Masala & tomato soup: tofu, mung beans & holy basil)
You can see how creamy it is from the picture, but it taste solid, and it has a little kick.
The Kardashians just had a little din at one of my favorite restaurants, Valbella’s, and they better back off my spot! It’s mine, you guys take everything else! (Fine Kim, I like your shoes)
[Click the photo above to go to Valbella’s website]
Kuma Inn [Click the photo above to go to Kuma Inn’s website]
113 Ludlow Street(between Delancey and Rivington) New York, NY 10002
Friday night dinna. What to do? What to do? My money is slipping quietly through my fingers as I pretend I don’t notice, but a girl’s gotta eat, so where do we go? Kuma Inn. Asian tapas and BYOB (cash only p.s they don’t serve alcohol there so don’t hold back, because what you bring is all you have).
The restaurant opens at 6 which means I have to wait all day to make the phone call to secure reservations (not on OpenTable what the eff), and when I call I ask for an 8:45 reservation.
The lady on the phone goes, “8:35?”
“No, 8:45.”
“I was going to say that’s specific.” How about you shut your mouth and schedule my reservation? I haven’t stepped foot in the restaurant yet, and they’re already chastising me.
Reservation was made at 9, but I told my friends 8:45. Girls are always late.
Obviously we extended the invite to everyone, but they’re girls so two of them didn’t confirm they were coming until like 6 o’clock on Friday.
I call the restaurant to ask if we could extend the reservation by 2 people, and this little butthead tells me he can’t extend it, there’s no room, but we can still show up, but there will be an approximate 2 hour wait. I say to just keep it at 3, and be done. I’ll deal with it when I get there.
As it turns out only 1 of them is coming so it’s just 4 of us. I call my friend and tell her what the host said. She is reassuring and says, “there are 3 of us so they’re going to seat us at a table for 4, it will be fine.”
You would think…
Kuma Inn is not just a regular ol’ restaurant. Oh, no. It’s in the LES so it’s sorta grimy (part of the lovely LES appeal) and up a huge flight of steps (don’t fear the bathroom is on the same floor ladies). My friend had on backless wedges and feared for her life while walking up to our dinner/her death. Did I mention we’re all carrying alcohol?
When we arrive we are greeted by a blonde version of Mitchell from Modern Family. He dismisses us quickly and we are shuttled to our seats, which is a table for 2 with 3 plate settings. UM, ok.
“Excuse me, there’s actually going to be one more of us.”
The waitress looks nervous and jittery, “talk to the front.”
I walk up to blonde Mitchell, and go, “Hi, our table is for 2 people, and there are 4 of us. Could we get an extra table?”
“No.”
“No?”
He shrugs. “That’s it. Unless you want to wait 2 ½ hours.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Now we’re both just standing there.
Thanks a*s hole. I walk back to my seat, and ask the lady (the nicer of the 2) for an extra chair. So now the three of us are sitting, while my friend awkwardly stands there, waiting for a chair to be brought over, while she holds two 6 packs of beer.
Guess what? There are no more chairs to be had in this restaurant, so they bring over a stool. Yes, a stool.
So now we look at the table, and there are no room for plates on the table with all the glasses for the sake, the beer, and the water. Time to consolidate. We put the water in the wine glasses, and the beer in the water glasses, and for some reason the sake glasses are gigantic. Tiny restaurant, tiny table, HUGE sake glasses, ok.
Guess what? I’m gonna get drunk.
I ask the waitress to just bring one dish out at a time, because we only have room for that at our table.
We order: edamame, chicken wings, vegetable dumplings, the Chinese sausage (upon recommendation),two orders of pork buns, and spicy shrimp.
Edamame comes, and it’s flavored with lime and some other spice. REALLY GOOD. It better be.
“They charge you a $1 per beer so hide the beer.”
“Where?” Our table is the size of a computer screen.
We keep the beers under the table, and use the same bag that holds the fresh beers as a garbage for the old ones.
Chicken wings come. They’re yummy and really juicy. However the menu says “chicken wings,” and I’m pretty sure they were thighs.
“You don’t like chicken right?”
“I don’t like meat off of the bone. It weirds me out.” Hmm, I see your point. Whatever, more for me.
Spicy shrimp is ok. Chinese sausage is surprise! Boneless spare ribs. Delic!
“Can we have the 2nd bottle of sake please? Thx!”
Pork buns, I mean, c’mon, they’re pork buns. It’s good, and actually larger than others I have seen.
I peer over our tiny table and notice my friend’s nails are polish-less and bitten up. “Ew gross, you need to get a manicure.”
A minute later I receive a text message, “f*ck your face.”
Well played.
Bill is only $25 per person (fine Kuma Inn, your food is good and cheap, but your manager is a dill hole). I did buy a bottle of sake though…
We pay, and begin our descent. As I make it to the bottom of the stairwell, I hear “hey! Wait for me! I have to take my heels off!”
Kuma Inn (sake)
Look at these sake glasses! How do you expect to sake bomb with this!
Kuma Inn (edamame)
I don’t even love edamame, but this was great!
Kuma Inn (chicken wings)
Pretty good, as you can see I forgot to take a picture at first, so that’s all that was left by the time I remembered.
Kuma Inn (spicy shrimp)
It was ok. Cute pic though.
Kuma Inn (vegetable dumplings)
They were really plump for vegetable dumplings! Usually they give you these wimpy servings so props to Kuma Inn for that one!
Kuma Inn (pork buns)
1 order is 2 pork buns, so 1 for each of us. Yum!
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.
…thanks Dad.
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.
Appetizers….
“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.
“No, Dad.”
“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.
Kutsher’s (bread)
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.
RedFarm [Click the photo above to go to Red Farm’s website]
529 Hudson Street (between 10th & Charles Street) New York, NY 10014
Unless you’re living under a rock, you’ve heard of Red Farm, a Chinese restaurant in the West Village, with crazy good reviews, but does not take reservations, which just makes it that much harder to get a table. Thanks Red Farm! My friend and I hatched a plan to go to Red Farm Saturday night at around 7:30 to put our names down with an anticipated sitting time of around 8:30-8:45pm.
We were sadly mistaken.
We invited a third to our dinner date (girls night!), but we felt bad telling her we were going to dinner at 7:30 (get ready RIGHT NOW), so we told her we would put our names down, and for her to just take her time and get ready, and then meet us wherever we were when she was done (will she think we’re leaving her out? Do we sound mean? I don’t want her to feel rushed…thoughts coming from every angle. For the record she really didn’t care. It was entirely in our heads). Obviously there was miscommunication (when is it ever easy?), and I didn’t know if I was going with one, sharing a cab with another, meeting another down there…ALMOST a mess, but it was fine.
Ended up sticking to the original plan: I would go with one friend downtown to put our names down, and we would notify our other friend how long the wait was. When we arrived at Red Farm, we see a line.
“Is this the line to be seated?”
“No, this is the line to put your name down.”
I’m sorry what? Let’s talk about pushy New Yorkers on line at a trendy restaurant. Anxiety? Yes. Does this person know we’re on line? Are they cutting us? Are they being seated? WHAT IS HAPPENING?
We see a little girl scoot up to the front table. Maybe her table is ready. Nope, she is putting her name down.
“Excuse me, we have been waiting on line,” said a man in front of us.
“Oh, sorry,” the girl says, but she doesn’t look so sorry, and she remains standing by the host stand.
“Is she going to cut us?” my friend asks.
“I don’t know, say something to her.” Yeah, I was scared to say something! Judge me.
“Excuse me, we were on line too.”
This girl did not like that, but whatever. Back of the line street rat.
When we finally make it to the front, they tell us that they will text us when our table is ready, oh and that there is approximately a 2 ½ hour wait. GREAT.
“Excuse me, just out of curiosity, but how many people are in front of us?”
“In front of you? 30 different parties”
Shut the front door old man. Ok, are we still in? Yes. What do we do in the meantime? My stomach is already rumbling a little bit.
“Let’s walk around and find a place for drinks and some snacks before.”
Lets be real people, we weren’t NOT going to eat.
Luckily for us, Hudson Street is not short of trendy restaurants and bars. We end up stopping at a Caliu, a tapas bar two blocks down. We text our friend where we are, and she meets us there.
I would like to point out that my friend and I looked like street walkers strolling the boulevard in our heels, heavy make-up, and tight clothes at 7:45pm…the heels probably being the worst part because that means we would be in 4 inchers for at least another 5 hours. Uh oh.
“Where’s your bathroom?”
“Down those stairs.” Of course it is.
We get settled, and start perusing the drink and food menu.
“I want to get a margarita.”
“It’s not even 8 yet, maybe we should start off with sangria instead.”
“I think I want a margarita.” Lady can’t be swayed.
The waitress walks over. “Can I get your guys anything to drink, while you wait for your friend?”
“How is your mango margarita?”
“It’s basically pure tequila.”
“Ok, I’ll have that,” my friend says.
Shoot, I’m up, “yeah ok, one for me too.”
My friend looks at the wait staff all laughing and chatting and goes, “they look like they’re having so much fun.” (are they having more fun than us?)
Soon our other friend arrives, and the three of us are all slurping on our mango margaritas.
“So do you care if we still wait for Red Farm?”
“No, no it’s fine!” (oh, so you’re easy going)
“What should we get in the meanwhile?”
“Nibbles” I say. I pretty much said nibbles 30x throughout the night, and I am now truly weirded out by the word. I need to learn to be quiet sometimes.
What are nibbles may you ask? Just little bites to hold us over. Deciding was so easy. Boom. Boom. Boom.
“That was so easy, we should pat ourselves on the back for that.” Guess what? I actually did.
“We will have: the bacon wrapped dates, the meatballs, and the croquettes.”
“We are out of the croquettes.”
“We are??” Mango margarita has gone straight to my head, because now I think I work there.
Substitution time, butternut squash fritters are ordered in its place.
Verdict? Yum. The dishes came in sets of 3 or 4, which made it hard to overeat. We paced ourselves in the eating department, not so much in the drinking.
“I love the music here.”
“It’s Pandora,” says the waitress.
“Then how come we don’t hear any ads?” Are we testing her? We actually really liked her, and I think we thought we were already best friends, but we weren’t.
We left Caliu with 3 tapas in our stomachs as well as 2 mango margaritas. On to the next stop. 2 ½ hours is no joke.
No food this time, just drinks, off we go to Dublin bar for another round of margaritas. 2 guys I didn’t know came up to talk us (my friends knew them so whatever). All I know is that they invited themselves to Red Farm with us, and one had a digital watch on. No, no, no, no, no. Bye.
It’s a blur, but let me tell you, their bathroom was downstairs too. C’MON!
My friend called Red Farm and with the assurance that we would be seated in 20 minutes we high tailed it to the restaurant. I kid you not, I was fully inebriated by this point, so time ticked by slowly and quickly all at the same time. We asked the host what dishes he recommended, I mean hey, we were hovering over his host stand, might as well chat. By the time were seated, menus were completely unnecessary.
We decided to do small bites since it was technically our second dinner: soup dumplings, pacman dumpling (both were musts, since it’s all I read about in the reviews), BBQ’d porkbelly, and a Katz’s pastramic egg roll.
And lets not forget…another margarita! We all ordered the Le Club Hot (a spicy margarita).
“This is the best one by far!”
“Or are we just too drunk to notice at this point?”
Dumplings are served as we try to equally distribute.
“I can’t believe those guys asked if we were single, and then said good for you after I said yes.”
“He asked me if I was as an after thought.”
“He also made fun of where I live.”
“They’re weird.”
…
“What do I write back to this text? I’m confused.”
“Just say you haven’t eaten dinner yet.”
Pork belly next, and last but not least is the egg roll.
“Are we going out after this?”
“It’s raining.”
“Oh, no, did you bring an umbrella?”
So after all that? HOW WAS RED FARM????
The dumplings were forgettable. Yeah I said it, Red Farm! You’re just regular dumps. The pork belly, that’s code for spare ribs, not that I’m complaining, but they were boneless spare ribs. The most delicious part of the meal?? The egg roll. UNREAL.
“Would you go back here again?”
“I don’t think so. We did it.”
“I would go back here so I could try it sober.” (This was me. I’m pretty sure I was the drunkest out of all 3.)
and finally our meal at Red Farm!!
Red Farm (Le Club Hot)
A fancy pants margarita. It was delicious. If you like margaritas, go for it! Again, it was like my fifth of the night, so if I stear you wrong I apologize in advance.
Red Farm (pork and crab soup dumplings)
Sorry it’s blurry! I was drunk, and I think the steam sort of got in the way of a great picture. I will admitt I have NEVER had a soup dumpling before, so not too shabby to have my first one at Red Farm. They were good, but I have nothing to compare to.
Red Farm (‘Pac Man’ dumplings)
They’re so cute, but they are also SO overrated. They tasted like your standard set of dumplings. They just have smiley faces on them.
Red Farm (BBQ’d ‘Black Foot’ Berkshire Pork Belly)
AKA spare ribs. If you like spare ribs, then this is a done deal. They were juicy and sweet. If you’re not a big pork eater, obviously don’t get this.
Red Farm (Katz’s Pastrami egg roll)
Deep fried, fatty meat, with a dipping sauce. Why doesn’t anyone ever mention this in their reviews? A-mah-zing!
CaliU [Click the photo above to go to CaliU’s website]
557 Hudson Street (between 11th & Perry Street) New York, NY 10014
CaliU (bacon wrapped dates)
I could eat a million of these!
CaliU (butternut squash fritters)
Super sweet, but good. I swear it was almost dessert like.
CaliU (albondigas)
Spanish meatballs, fresh tomato sauce, pickled squash. The pickled squash was the only unique part of this dish, besides that, it’s your basically meatball. The sauce it was mixed with was delicious!!!
GirlyFoodie 