Tertulia [Click the photo above to go to Tertulia’s website]
359 6th Avenue (between Washington St and Cornelia St) New York, NY 10014
Guess who got to go their first restaurant opening? Meee. But this post isn’t about that, because they only served appetizers and I was hungry afterwards. This is about the dinner after the restaurant opening (don’t worry, I’ll be blogging the other restaurant another time) at Tertulia.
I went with my schmoozy boozy foodie friend to the event, so I figured I’d give myself the night off and let him pick the restaurant (or I had no idea where I was, and didn’t know what restaurants were nearby…or that).
Tertulia it is. The hostess tells us there is a slight wait, but two people are eating dessert so we should be seated shortly.
“So free drinks on the house while we wait?” You can guess that was not me, because I barely have the balls to tell waiters I’m a food blogger.
She smiles and tells us no.
I decide I need water while we wait, because I have already had 3 drinks, and well frankly, there’s not much more I can handle.
We are seated rather fast, and we are handed menus.
Him: “Do you like quail eggs?”
Me: “Blech no”
Me: “Croquettes?”
Him: “No”
Shit.
I lean back against the booth, I give up, he can do it.
“I’ll just wing it.”
“Great.”
The waiter struts over.
“Can I get you two something to drink?”
“Sangria.”
“Glasses or pitcher?”
“Pitcher.”
Uh oh.
It’s late, we might as well order. Off he goes!
“We’ll get the shishito peppers.”
“Do you like prosciutto?”
“Yeah that’s fine.”
Suddenly our waiter looks extremely irritated. “I can come back.”
“No it’s fine he’s winging it.”
Final decision: shishito peppers, prosciutto, squid specialty, and brussel sprouts.
“He hated us.”
“Did he?”
We both obviously turn to look at him. I mean who doesn’t look at the person they’re talking smack about..and there this little shit is giggling and loving it up with all the other patrons!
What did we do to him?
Lucky for him we didn’t hate the food, but the prosciutto came with nothing else, and it was just a mountain of meat, which is weird. Offer us a piece of bread.
Well we know our waiter isn’t going to offer, so we ask another waitress about cheese plates, and order that with bread. This meal just got exponentially larger.
The remainder of our meal was spent focusing on our waiter.
“What do you think his name is?”
I guessed something like Walter, I’m not sure. Something absurd.
Turns out his name is Dantrice. I don’t even need to write a funny comment about that, because nothing will do it justice. My waiter’s name is DANTRICE. OF COURSE IT IS.
“He definitely does pilates.”
“No zumba.”
Visual of our waiter doing zumba is in my brain. Possibly screaming “ay ay ay ay!”
“You have nice eyes. They’re like olive green.”
“They’re blue-green.”
“Right, blue-green-olive-green.”
Yeah that’s me. ROY G BIV.
Dantrince saunters over yet again. Doesn’t even think to ask how our meal was or ask why all the squid was left on the table (because it was blechh). However he does tell us “It’s last call.”
Oof Dantrice all the things I could think to call you. You’re lucky I’m drunk and tired, and embarrassed of how little we tipped you, so I’m not going to say anything. I’m just going to go home.
Sangria
Pretty right? It was good, but everything is good after 3 drinks. Also, it’s a really bag sign if you serve bad sangria.
Pimientos De Padron: Fried Padrón peppers with lots of sea salt
You either love these or hate these, because every 1 out of 5 is supa dupa hot. Dantrice informed us that a lot of them were spicy right now. I happen to be a big fan!
Brussel Sprouts
Most tapas restaurants have brussel sprouts and they’re usually pretty legit. These were yummy. A great side, but they never should be the star of a meal.
Prosciutto
Here is our pile of meal. It was tasty, but who eats prosciutto like this? At least tell us first so we can order Pan Con Tomate with it. We fixed the problem though and ordered bread don’t worry.
Squid Special
It looks so pretty, but it was very very chewy and served cold. I don’t know if it was on purpose or Dantrice was too busy zumba-ing in the back and forgot about us.
I am so dumb and didn’t take a picture of my FAVORITE part of the meal, the CHEESE. They described it as a texture like brie, but with more flavors. It was also served with a raisin and nut bread with a gelatin. Looking back I would have been happy with a cheese plate.
Salinas [Click the photo above to go to Salinas website]
136 9th Avenue (between 18th and 19th Street) New York, NY 10011
After just seeing my dad a few days ago, I guess he felt it was pertinent to see me again and expand my waistline. Thanks. So off to dinner I went with my dad and sister.
My sister goes to grad school at Columbia (She is getting her masters in literacy, going to be a teacher molding children’s minds, some crap like that) so it made sense to meet on the west side, and I compromised by not going too far uptown.
Besides I thought, how bad could tapas really be for you? They’re small portions. Yeah, I don’t know about that.
I somehow managed to get there first, and the hostess says that I can wait at the bar for the rest of my party to arrive. I was originally not going to drink anything, but when the bartender asked me what I wanted, when I expected to say water I said, “something spicy please, with tequila.” I don’t know what happened.
My sister comes in next, orders sangria, and tells me that Dad is parking the car. She informs me that they’re not giving me a ride back to my apartment, so now I’ll have to spend $15 on a cab ride to accommodate the rest of my family (what is that about??).
Late Larry comes strolling in, comes up to us, and goes, “the table’s ready,” as if he’s been waiting on us.
“You’ll take care of the bar tab?” Thanks.
We get seated, and I start shooting out ideas for what to order. My dad doesn’t do well with tapas (he was a disaster when he visited me abroad in Barcelona. The only thing he learned was “café con leche merci beaucoup.” Yes, the last part is not Spanish, and his flavor palette expanded as much as his vocabulary).
“Wow, someone read the menu ahead of time.”
“I really didn’t. I just know you are particular so I thought I’d throw some ideas out.”
“She definitely read the menu,” my dad says to my sister.
Why am I defending myself?
Our waiter rattles off a few specials, we ask for recommendations, and the amount of dishes we should order. The waiter says that main plates take about 30-40 minutes to prepare, and we immediately nixed that idea. Waiting? Nope, we don’t do that. Ready for our order?
One order of brussel sprouts
One order of flat bread
One order of shrimp
One order of baked goat cheese
One order of lamb meatballs
One order of a cured fish special
One order of patatas bravas
Two orders of pasta (large not small) because we couldn’t agree on one.
My dad wanted a pasta with chicken, chorizo and cockles. My sister and I wanted one with lamb and goatcheese (we like goat cheese duh).
“What are cockles?”
“It’s pasta,” my dad says.
“There is no way it’s a type of pasta. I’ll look it up,” I say.
“Let’s ask the waiter.”
“Excuse me, what are cockles?”
“Clams.”
“I knew it!” said my dad. No he didn’t…
Dishes came out a few plates at a time. The flatbread and brussel sprouts arrive first. The brussel sprouts are standard; the flat bread was crunchy and crumbled into pieces when you tried to rip off a piece, my sister and I were not into it.
“This is pretty good,” chomp chomp, my dad says.
Eh.
I was tired and didn’t have much to say so I let my sister take it away for this round, and once she starts talking about Columbia she doesn’t stop. She once spent ten minutes discussing the address of the school she worked at, and the driving route she took to get there (snoozefest).
Sidebar: Lets be real, whether it’s finance, social media, public relations, or education, work is boring. I’m sorry it is. It’s called “work” it’s not supposed to be fun, and if you do actually like your job then everyone will resent you for it anyway so keep your mouth shut: unless you love your job and make no money, then whatever.
I did however perk up when we discuss how my sister could use her love of cheese as a teaching method for kids with pronunciation issues.
“Mozzarella, muenster, goat cheese, gouda, swiss…”
“So many kinds!”
Meatballs arrive: good, but the cucumber the meatball sat on needed more crunch.
Fish special: tasted like miniature brunch dishes, cured fish (if that’s a thing), and lentils that looked like capers.
“I have to do this…so they like me here…this person gave good advice…I have this lesson plan to do… this is challenging…the content doesn’t get covered all the time…social studies…this is below average on spectrum…I took the bus with my metro card”
“Rates are goin’ up on that,” my dad chimes in.
“You took the bus?”
“I did, but it was too much traffic, so I got out and hailed a cab.” Now that’s my sister.
Shrimp dish is ok, but the oil it swims in is good for dipping with bread. The baked goat cheese is actually a bowl of tomato sauce with hot goat cheese in the center that you spread on bread (boom, best dish we ordered).
Now that the goat cheese dish has woken me up, let’s talk about something I’m interested in. Perspiration.
My sister and I were blessed with my dad’s horrible perspiration gene, and it never gets old discussing it.
“I don’t sweat that much!” my dad says. For the record until the age of 18, I didn’t know that a. not everyone sweats bullets from dancing at a bar/bat-mitzvah before the candle lighting ceremony and b. that not all guys smell that way after playing basketball. True Story.
“It’s not ok for a girl to sweat.”
And since I pre-gamed with my sister and her friends this past weekend in a small converted one bedroom in Murray Hill (oh, wait I live in one of those too), with raging 22 year olds, I was reminded of how uncomfortable it is to actually sweat surrounded by a group of people, while also trying to be the cool older sister (not easy, I tell you).
My dad’s favorite thing to tell me is how I can’t party like I used to.
“You faded real fast.” It’s true, I can no longer pound shots, but there are also no more pictures of me on Facebook with my eyes rolling to the back of my head.
Pasta! My sister and I like our pasta better than our dad’s, but he insists that his is better, and when my dad insists on something he gets louder and enunciates his words.
“I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talkin’-about-this-is-good.”
Should we get dessert? Why not?
Flan!
My sister says she doesn’t like the way it jiggles. “It’s like a weird jell-o.” She’s so expressive.
“So I heard I’m not getting a ride back home?”
“Oh, your sister told you that already?”
“Yep, so you’ll pay for my cab fare right?”
“Yeah, what is that like $10?” What a sport!
“More like $12.50. You can just give me a 20.” Doesn’t he know? The fares went up.
Salinas (Coles y Colifor: brussel sprouts, green cauliflower, citrus yogurt & pimenton de la Vera)
Maybe this multicolored veggie plate is a trend right now, since this is the second time in two weeks I’m seeing it, gotta say I don’t love it. Dish needed more brussel sprouts in my opinion and more of the yogurt sauce. I was thinking it’d be like the brussel sprout dish at Alta…I was very wrong.
Salinas (Crujiente Mahones: flat bread, Majon cheese, honey, thyme & sea salt)
Mixed reviews on this! I wanted something that was less crunchy and more bready. My dad couldn’t get enough of it!
Salinas (Montadito: Colorado lamb meatballs, pickled cucumbers, tomato sofrito & Spanish toast)
Only 3 per dish, so minimal guilt for this order, because I only ate one, and it was served on a cucumber! I try to forget that meatballs are made with breadcrumbs. Really good!
Salinas (fish special)
Sorry, they didn’t give me a description for this! I really liked this! It wasn’t overpowering or super fishy. It reminded me of smoked fish they serve on a brunch platter, but you know, without the bagel.
Salinas (Gambas Al Ajillo:sauteed shrimp, wild mushrooms, garlic, guindilla pepper & parsley)
This is a very standard shrimp dish I see on tapas menus. I don’t really like shrimp served this way, but my dad and sister wanted it, and I knew they would want to dip the bread in the oil/sauce. It’s an easy dish to order if you’re not into cured meats or a tapas beginner.
Salinas (Queso Al Horno: baked spanish goat cheese, spicy tomato sofrito & Spanish toast)
It was my favorite dish we ordered! It was also freezing in the restaurant so it warmed me right up!
P.S. My sister’s loved the name, obviously, horno, horny. Her favorite movie character of all time is Alota Fagina, so you get the idea.
Salinas (patatas bravas)
I almost always order patatas bravas whenever I go to a tapas restaurant. I feel like it’s a sign of a good tapas restaurant. These were different in that they were diced small, and they were good, but I don’t know, they weren’t the highlight of the meal. I don’t think you need to order them.
Salinas (fideos pasta, braised lamb shank, wild mushrooms, seasonal greens & goat cheese aioli)
I have never heard of goat cheese aioli, and I think it was the best part of the dish mixed with the lamb. A little mushy but we finished it.
Salinas (Rossejat Rapida: fideo pasta, all natural chicken breast, fava beans, chorizo, cockles & saffron alioli)
It looks good doesn’t it? This was the “large” portion. For large it isn’t so large. It was ok. This was also sort of mushy in texture, and reminded me of the macaroni you get in Easy Mac.
Salinas (flan)
Some people don’t like flan. I’m not one of those people. My dad felt the need to say “boy, you like flan,” 3x to me while I was eating. He’s rude.
Poco [Click the photo above to go to Poco’s website]
33 Avenue B (on the corner of 3rd street) New York, NY 10009
Can I wear black leggings with brown fry boots and a cream button down.
or do the colors not math
match
This is the text message that started by Saturday morning before I left for a brunch (bottomless brunch of course) with 4 girl friends of mine.
Yes, it’s fine.
Wanna share a cab?
“Yes, but hurry up I’m leaving right now,” I say as I fast forward through my Gallery Girls recording. I’m not leaving yet, but my friend is the slowest person on Earth, so I figured I’d light a fire under her legging clad ass.
I read the next text message:If ur lying ur dead (emoticon).
I’m in a cab, I reply as I turn up the volume.
I finally pick up my friend and off we go to Poco to enjoy a nice bottomless brunch on a pretty Saturday afternoon.
When we arrive the hostess informs us that there will be a slight wait since people came late…slight huh?
The other three girls arrive, and we attempt to wait patiently. We’re all in standard brunch garb, jeans, sandals/sneakers etc, and there is my other friend standing 5”10 with thick rimmed glasses, hot red lipstick, a scarf, combat boots (its almost 80 degrees out) and an oversize Chanel (her uniform). The only difference from her usual day to day outfit is that now she has an IPhone in her hand as opposed to her Blackberry.
“Do you like having an IPhone?”
“Um…it’s my 4th one.”
It’s been less than 30 days since she received her first one.
“How do you keep losing them?”
“Well I left one in a cab, but I realized as soon as I got out of the cab, so I took off my shoe and threw it at the cab.”
“Oh, so you got the phone.”
“I missed…”
“You have lipstick on your teeth.”
5 minutes turns into 30 minutes as we stand outside shooting the hostess dirty looks (how much longer..like 10 more minutes?…15 minutes later…they’re paying the check…10 minutes later….paying the check…we hate you) We are finally seated at a table outside, but CC Sabathia hasn’t charged her phone and it’s about to die, so she starts running around the restaurant asking if there’s an available outlet, and then says she wants to sit inside so she can hear the music better. I give her the seat closest to the speakers to make her feel better.
Waiter, wheres my drink….
“Mimosa!”
“2 mimosas!”
“3.”
“Bloody mary.”
“Can I have sangria?”
“Do you do pitchers?” They do, but only of mimosas, which they serve in a champagne bottle, tricky.
“You know, we were waiting half hour for our table,” says my friend hinting for some sort of accommodation aka extra pitchers.
“What a shame! Well you’re sitting now.” That was unsuccessful.
…and then brunch ended. No seriously, it didn’t. but it’s all a bit of a blur.
I having officially ended the Dukan Diet got a skirt steak sandwich, that I think had chimichurri sauce in it.
My other friend ordered the pulled chicken, which was pretty much chicken salad, but she didn’t realize that until she got it, so that didn’t go over well.
Two ordered eggs over easy with bacon, and one ordered lobster benedict (which I somehow neglected to take a picture of, sorry!). All of our meals came with home fries and salad. The home fries tasted like they were frozen and reheated, and the salad had a weird tropical like dressing, but that dressing goes very well with a mimosa (or does it?).
There was nothing left. Two of our friends had to leave early, and one of their bags swung around the table and spilled mimosa everywhere, which led to bees flying everywhere, everywhere!
The check comes, and I realize the other two girls were in remedial math in high school, so I’m going to have to drunkenly do this check…damn it.
“Can you hand me my phone or no?” I hear my friend ask a group of diners sitting near the outlet her phone is charging in, and then she gets up to talk to a group of guys instead, and then comes back to report, “they’re all gay.”
“Lets go to Beekman Beer Garden.”
And then I died. But the moral of this story is, we’re all willing to wait half hour if it means we get a bottomless drunk brunch in good weather and good music. But you could have been nicer about it Poco..I am a food blogger after all.
Poco (bottomless brunch special)
The best part of the meal. The champagne bottle is really a bottle of mimosa.
Poco (grilled skirt steak and cheese sandwich: with fried eggs, creamy avocado, letuce and tomato served on a French baguette)
I want to say the cheese was like a Manchego which had a nice salty bite with the steak and avocado. It’s not exactly brunch, but we did eat at 1:30pm so it’s fine.
Poco (pulled chicken sandwich: apple wood smoked bacon, lettuce, tomato, and chipotle aioli)
Translation: chicken salad sandwich with bacon. It was a little too mayo-y, but fine.
Poco (two eggs over easy with bacon)
I didn’t taste the eggs, but you have to be a pretty crappy restaurant to mess this up.
Want to know where to go right now? [Click the photo above to read Updating the Eater Heatmap:Where to Eat Right Now]
Nothing says football season more than wings and beer! [Click the photo above to read Beyond Buffalo: New York’s Nine Most Exciting New Wings]
Summer is over, which means more time in the city to go out, eat late night, and then feel guilty about it the next morning! [Click the photo above to read 10 Great Late Nite Bites in the Meatpacking District]
Miracles do exist! Tates Chocolate Chip Cookie Ice Cream Sandwich, a tatewich! You can purchase them as soon as above or make them yourself! All you need are cookies and ice cream, and a sharp knife. Thats it! It’s a crowd pleaser!
P.S. I stole these pictures, I wouldn’t be caught dead with that manicure.
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!
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!!!
Boqueria [Click the photo above to go to Boqueria’s website]
53 west 19th street (between 5th and 6th Ave) New York, NY 10011
After fully gorging myself from a holiday weekend, I decided to continue this path of destruction by going out to dinner with two friends.
I had just seen American Reunion (it’s what you would expect), and we decided to keep the momentum going by walking to a place nearby for an early dinner. Only two of us went to the movies, so the other one met us at the restaurant. In the interim we decided to grab a drink. While drinking, we decided it would be a great idea to get another drink at dinner. What planning!
We’re idiots and decided to eat “light” by going to Boqueria for tapas (light, I’m sure). We were trying to keep kosher for Passover, so NO bread! How bad could we possibly eat?
The two of us walk into the restaurant, and it’s pretty empty. I would say it’s a surprise, but most people don’t eat dinner at 6pm on a Sunday (or ever).
“3 please.”
The hostess looks around the restaurant like it’s packed to the gills and responds, “Sure, just let me know when your other person is here.”
Yes, because people are climbing over each other to get a seat. Let’s definitely make us wait in the front. Our friend arrives with ballet flats on and announces her foot keeps cramping up, “I hate when that happens.”
The hostess then seats us at a communal table. There are 3 of us, and no one is in the restaurant. Lets seat us at our own table. I know you don’t know us, but you don’t want us near the other guests.
As soon we sit down, my friend goes, “I want the spinach. I want the mackerel. I definitely want the steak. We need to get steak.”
“Ok.”
“Ok.”
It’s tapas so the menu isn’t that extensive, but we are really diving in.
“I want the patatas bravas. If you guys don’t want them, I still have to have them.” Wow, easy killer. Who said we couldn’t get them (they fit the Passover bill)? I picture her with this plate in front of her never coming up for air.
“I love those. Definitely!” I say.
Then little Miss Spinach goes, “There are four things, we definitely need to get. The rest I don’t care.” FOUR THINGS?? Most people put in a two dish request, she puts in for four, and they’re all mandatory.
They were: the spinach, the hanger steak, the shrimp, and the lamb meatballs.
I wasn’t opposed to any of this, so those were put on our definite lists.
I threw out the bacon wrapped dates. Bacon is kosher for Passover!
Miss Patatas Bravas overlapped with Miss Spinach on the meatballs on her top 5 list, so we were good to go.
The waitress comes over, “Can I get you guys something to drink?”
Sangria! Ay ay ay ay!
This poor waitress. She was on the quiet side, and we’re just not on the quiet side.
Time to order. After feeling like we had gone overboard I ask the waitress, “is this too much?”
She shockingly comes back with, “I would get one more if I were you.” Ok, wow! We decide we can just order another dish as we move along, to see how hungry we are.
We all dive into to each dish as they are served somewhat staggered. Stuffed dates first, amazing, but there are only three. Biotch please.
Then spinach and potatoes.
“My type is Michael Cera.”
“Really? I don’t know one person you have dated or hooked up with that remotely resembles Michael Cera.”
“Yeah, like cool but a little dorky, but not dorky and kinda cool.”
I continue attacking the patatas bravas.
“No one else is eating this.”
“Are you kidding? I am too!”
Then comes meatballs and hanger steak. Both great!
“What is that with the steak?”
“I think it’s squash.”
“Squash.”
“I like squash.”
…
“Which movie did you like better, 21 Jump Street or American Reunion?”
“I haven’t seen 21 Jump Street yet.”
“It’s hysterical!”
Check magically appears and we realize we never ordered a sixth dish. UH OH.
“Let’s get Tasti.”
“Great idea.”
Boqueria (red sangria)
Great! Picked some of the fruit out and nibbled on it…in public.
Boqueria (datiles con beicon)
Dates stuffed with almonds and Valdeon, wrapped in bacon.
It was a blessing and a curse that there were only 3 of these. I could have eaten ten more!
Boqueria (espinacas a la Catalana)
Sauteed spinach, garbanzos, pine nuts, garlic, raisins.
Just because it’s green doesn’t mean it’s great for you. Smothered in oil, it was yummy and sweet, but who cares? I kept Passover.
Boqueria (patatas bravas)
Crispy potatoes, salsa grava, roasted garlic allioli
Crispy potatoes with a garlic sauce on top and a red sauce at the bottom to shmush (that is a big girl word) the potatoes in at the bottom? It’s never a bad idea.
Boqueria (gambas al ajillo)
Shrimp, garlic and Guindilla pepper in olive oil.
It tasted like it was doused in butter and oil. Not to say that is bad, but don’t think you’re being healthy by ordering shrimp. Lies! All lies!
Boqueria (albondigas)
Lamb meatballs, tomato sauce, sheep’s milk cheese.
I don’t know if I’m one to judge what is deemed light, and what is deemed heavy, but I’d venture to say that for meatballs, it tasted light, and didn’t make you feel weighed down afterwards.