Ainsworth [Click the photo above to go to Ainsworth’s website]
122 West 26th Street (between 6th and 7th Avenue) New York, NY 10001
Sunday football is back! I decided to be proactive and make at reservations in advance at Ainsworth to watch the Jets game (I’m a Giants fan, but in reality I don’t watch football by myself…ever) at 1pm.
I e-mailed them the Monday before to secure reservations. They request a credit card on file in order to secure the reservation, and there’s a dress code. Oh, and for a party of 6-8, patrons have to spend a minimum of $250. Unless there are 10 or more which means you must spent $500. What kind of place is this!
And, they’ll charge the credit card on file if you don’t show up to your reservation…this place better be amazing. It…was not.
I arrive first, because why wouldn’t I arrive first, and they seat me right by the door.
“Excuse me would be able to sit farther in?”
“I’m sorry people are seated in according to how quickly we receive your reservation.” (I didn’t sneak out of temple to make this reservation or anything. It’s fine). I sit alone on my phone trying to figure out the new upgrades to my IPhone. Youtube is gone, what else?
Two of my friends arrive after me with an elaborate story about how they planned on wearing sweat pants to defy the dress code, and then surprise the bouncer with an outfit underneath (they didn’t do any of this, but they really thought about it).
My friend is telling me how she worked out and started this new diet for a wedding she has coming up, and I have to interrupt her to tell her she has something in her teeth, and I cannot stop staring at it.
“It must be from the bagel. Why didn’t you tell me?” she says to our other friend.
“I didn’t see it. It’s black right?” She saw it.
“I thought you said you were on a diet.”
“I was up since 8!” Ok ok.
We each order a beer (they’re out of Blue Moons), and my friend orders some fancy pants Raspberry beer which comes in a champagne flute, and looks just like Manischewitz wine. It tastes sort of like juice, but I don’t know, I don’t mind it.
We decide we want tuna tacos to split, and I guess I’ll be good and get a salad. Our other two friends arrive.
“Why didn’t you guys get pitchers?”
Everybody caaaalm down. We order a pitcher.
One of my friend is convinced she’s sea sick from a booze cruise she took the night before, doesn’t even touch her beer, and orders a coffee…
I get up to use the restroom. The beer has already gotten to me, and apparently the door to the unisex bathroom does not lock, and 3 people open the door on me. I walk out and decide I’m not telling anyone what happened, because there’s nothing more embarrassing than someone walking in on you screaming, “No don’t! Someone’s in here!”
Luckily my friends don’t care. “You missed it! Kris Humphries just walked in with his hood on!”
I seem to like to go to the same place C List celebrities like to hang out. First Kim D and Teresa, now Kris Humphries (and weirdly enough I’ve seen him a few times watching football on Sunday). He is sitting in VIP. I mean is that cool? I don’t really know. I don’t think so, but all my friends are like, “we gotta find a way in to VIP.”
No thanks! I’ll eat my salad (which sucked). Everyone orders a salad, but we still get a pitcher of beer and nachos, so who were we really fooling? No one.
As I crunch on my dressing-less salad, we all watch girls decked in heels, hair done, oversize bags…we’re “watching” football you freaks. Girls have full faces of make-up, and the restaurant/bar is now just a bar so it’s pitch black. No one can see your face anyway!
Our last friend arrives, and orders a caprese salad, and decides she’ll wait it out for her next dish. We do have to make this stupid minimum.
My friend decides she wants to seek out Kris Humphries, and I have to pee again so off we go. This time I go into the Ladie’s Room. Eff that unisex bathroom. I hate you. She then makes me walk around to the back where the VIP section is, and she is awkwardly standing there just staring. Now I feel weird.
“I don’t see him. Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know where is he?”
I see someone waving furiously at me. Some guy I met in a Hampton sharehouse a few years ago, sitting on a couch in the VIP section. I wave back.
“Can we go?”
We sit back down, and try to figure out if we have reached the minimum amount we have to pay to sit in these seats.
“Did you see the Hump?”
“No, but we saw some guy I know from a sharehouse.”
“Was that the pale guy waving at you?”
“Yes.”
We have not reached our minimum yet, and the game is still going.
“It got so dark in here.”
“How much longer is this game?”
“Is it going to go into overtime?”
“Please no!”
We are $10 off from the minimum after already ordering mac n cheese for the table (huge portion, ok flavor) and we are about to just suck it up and pay for it when my friend screams, “I’ll have a bloody mary!”
“We might as well make the minimum.” She already had 3 bloody marys, and made me take a picture of it, because “it looked pretty good.”
We pay, and the game goes into overtime, and the bar is pitch black. I cannot bear to watch one more minute of the Jets. I’m out of here. Maybe i’ll see Kris again next week.
Ainsworth (bloody mary)
Everyone knows what beer looks like, so here is a different drink. The same person who ordered this also ordered one of their lemon specialty drinks. It was 1 in the afternoon. I don’t know where she thought she was.
Ainsworth (mac n cheese)
Everyone agreed that this was disappointing. It was a dish we ordered to make the minimum. It’s fine macaroni and cheese, but it’s not that great. The best part is the parmesan bread crumbs baked on top.
Ainsworth (tuna tartar tacos:red onions, scallions,red chili vinaigrette, guacamole)
They were actually pretty good!! Also for tacos, not that messy either. I was pleasantly surprised!
Ainsworth (nachos:tri-color corn tortillas, shredded jack and cheddar,black beans,pico de gallo, guacamole,sour cream)
I didn’t eat the nachos. I think they were ok. It’s just a pile of fat on top of carbs, so I’m sure this has to be decent bar food. I did like the guacamole that came on the tuna tacos, so at least I know that was good.
Ainsworth (Tomato Mozzarella Caprese: buffalo mozzarella, basil oil, red and yellowtomatoes, balsamic reduction)
I asked my friend how it was, and she crinkled her noise and said, “eh.” In other words don’t get it.
Ainsworth (truffle Mushroom Stuffed Burger: bacon,swiss cheese,truffle mayo)
I stole some of the truffle fries. It was decent, but my friend did not finish it, so maybe she deemed it not worth the calories or maybe she wasn’t hungry. I don’t know, but probably not a great sign.
Ainsworth (Ainsworth Chopped Salad:romaine lettuce,grape tomatoes,corn, hearts of palm, feta cheese, cucumbers, carrots, asparagus,red onions,white balsamic vinaigrette, add chicken $3, shrimp $5)
I added the chicken, and removed the feta. They put all the contents on top of the salad so it looked like it was going to taste great, and then the rest of the bowl was filled with lettuce. Crap salad.
Ainsworth (Spinach Salad: baby spinach, red peppers, red onions, mushrooms,artichoke hearts,goat cheese,apple cider vinaigrette, add chicken $3)
My friend was craving goat cheese so she immediately eyed this salad. It looks fine, but it’s not a healthy salad.
Ainsworth (caesar salad)
Ok caesar salad. You can see by the quality of the picture how dark it really does get in this restaurant/bar.
OYSTER FESTIVAL [Click the photo above to go to Oyster Festival’s official website]
Stone Street, Finanical District, New York, 10004
Fall seems to be the season of food festivals, so after the San Gannero festival, I decided let’s keep the ball rolling with the Oyster Festival. I went to the gym hoping it would negate the damage I’d do to myself later in the day (it didn’t) and texted my friend while on the bike, the standard question we text all our friends…
“How do I get there?” We know we can all look it up ourselves, but why not make someone else do it for us? I’m lazy, and I’m poor (and by poor, I mean my mom is going to strangle me when she sees the credit card bill) so I figured if I had to get down to Wall Street, I probably didn’t want to pay for a $15 cab or find out how to get there. My friend informs me the 4 or 5 will get me to Wall Street. I continue to text her while on the bike, which means I clearly worked my ass off at the gym.
My 21 year old hungover sister has decided to use me for my apartment once again, and sleeps soundly as I get myself ready for my day out. I tell her to get up so I can make my bed and she struggles to get up telling me she forgot where she was (oh to be young).
I manage to take the 6, transfer to the 5, and get to Wall Street, and felt like an absolute baller until I looked at my google maps and got completely lost trying to find this stupid Oyster Festival.
I keep walking left then right, and staring at my map as I watch the blue avatar of myself go to the left and right of where I’m supposed to be going. I don’t get it! I call my friend, and she tells me our other friend can see that on google maps she’s the closest so to come to her. Sure I say.
Forget this! I hail a cab tell him I’m supposed to go to Pearl Street, he legitimately drives me around the corner, and I’m magically in the center of Oyster Festival. Made it!
My friend calls me, “where are you??”
“Oh, I’m already at Oyster Festival, you can just meet me,” I say as if I’m the queen of Manhattan.
I never told them I took a cab so if you’re reading this, now you know. I’m a liar.
We walk in, and apparently this street is a wind tunnel and the tank and shorts I have on are just not cutting in.
My friend offers me her scarf or her cardigan.
“You can wrap the scarf around your head”
“I think I’ll just take the cardigan.”
We haven’t even started drinking yet.
We manage to stroll and get a look at all the stands, to see what we’re working with. I decide I have to try oysters, but end up ordering a lobster roll (two rolls for $10 and chips included). We begin our drinking. I start with a mimosa which was $8 for two sips of orange juice, and my 2 other friends are chugging sangria that might as well have been called rum.
My other friend runs to get a bloody mary, and ends up watching the ice melt, because it’s too strong for her to drink. Woops.
As we manage to walk through the mosh pit that is Oyster Festival I notice there are a lot more guys here than girls, and they’re actually good looking. My friend looks at me, “We need to come here for happy hour.”
We find a table, I upgrade to sangria, and then next thing I know I ate everything.
Pizza special: two slices and a beer for $10. (I didn’t get this, but I had a bite)
$1 Pizza Special: somewhere else. The pizza is tiny, and its $3 if you want a meat slice.
I decide it’s time for me to learn to like oysters: FAIL. I eat 6 slimy suckers for $8, and want to cry the whole time I’m eating it. They were east coast and briny, and I don’t know why people choose to eat these things.
We all somehow manage to go through 3 servings of Cajun fries: always leaving one fry left in each basket, because no one wants to eat “the last one.”
We end up finding a somewhat clean porta potty and pretend it’s our private bathroom. I end up talking to some random guy who is “from the desert” (I’m quoting here) while waiting on line, and he tells me how he’s not used to oysters, because he’s never lived by the sea. I don’t know I have to pee. He was sort of cute, but he sounded like he was giving me a presentation and I wasn’t biting.
Next thing I know I’m exhausted, pretty drunk, and full. All I want to do is shadily dip, take a $20 cab home nap, and maybe order Chinese food. But noooo my friend corners me into sharing a cab with them so we can go to a sex toy party. They’re not as cool as they sound fyi.
I end up going to this party, and realize I can’t find my friend who dragged me here. I end up finding her face down on her bed, fully dressed, make-up on, and heels hanging off her bed.
Maybe I am just like my 21 year old sister.
Oyster Festival
I stole this picture, but just so you can see how crowded it gets. It really is just one street filled with people everywhere!
Oyster Festival (beer and bloody mary)
I took the beer picture by accident, as you can tell from the quality of the picture. But don’t go to this if you’re not going to drink! It’s crowded. It’s loud. It’s really fun!
Oyster Festival (lobster roll)
It was a really good lobster roll! Not too mayo-y. I haven’t had one in a while, and I didn’t start drinking yet when I ate this, so I know it was good!
Oyster Festival (cajun fries)
Looks like we ate everything except the oysters. We ordered this THREE times. The guy saw us coming, and screamed “they’ll be ready in 10!” Considering they had to make them in bulk they were pretty good fries! Crispy and not overcooked or soggy.
Oyster Festial (pizza: two slices and a beer for $10)
It was decent pizza. It’s just a good alternative to seafood, if you don’t eat shell fish. It also is never a bad idea to eat pizza when you’re drinking.
Oyster Festival (East Coast Oysters)
I hate them. I’m sorry. I thought I could like them a little bit, but I can’t stand East Coast oysters. I can stomach West Coast. EEK
Angelo’s [Click the photo above to go to Angelo’s website]
146 Mulberry Street New York, NY 10013
After a few years of wanting the full experience at the San Gennaro Festival it finally happened. Somehow 8 girls found a night that worked for everyone on a Thursday night, and made reservations at a restaurant without any fuss at Angelo’s. So far so good right?
“How are you getting to dinner?”
“I have no idea,” I replied on gchat to my friend. Me, get anywhere downtown without a cab, and through public transportation instead? I think not.
“We can take the 6 to Canal Street.” (Cool)
…
“Want to meet at the subway so we can go together?” (Yes, I have no idea where I’m going, and I could definitely use a budget friendly ride)
As I’m running to get ready (is it cold out? Do I need a jacket or maybe just a scarf? Am I going out after this? Should I put on liquid liner?) I get a text from my friend saying she’s getting her nails done two blocks away from me, and she’s taking the subway with my other friend and me.
Great, you can come up to my apt, and I go on to give her my apt #, and she writes back “Ehhh.” Thanks?
I get to the subway, and she tells me she couldn’t find my building (she was on my block…she probably just had to look up). Now I’m starting to sweat as we wait for the 6 to arrive, and I realize why I hate the subway. I pull one arm out of my sweater so it’s half on/half off.
“I’ll fix it once we’re on the train”
“Yeah, I’m dripping.”
We get off the subway, and wait for our other friends who took the subway, and as they arrive, something gets into my eye, so I am now walking through Chinatown (is it Chinatown?) trying to get an unidentified object out of my eye without smudging my liquid liner (yeah, I decided to wear it).
We walk through the hustle and bustle that is San Gennero (Honey eat here! Want to be a winner? Look at this menu!), and just as I see the word “Angelo” in view, my two friends get distracted by a hustler offering them a “free game” outside the restaurant (you know where you have to throw ball in a container, and it looks so easy, but it never works, and you spent $45 trying to win a gigantic banana stuffed animal).
“Guys! The restaurant is right here!”
“He said we could have won a tv…” (no you couldn’t)
As I’m standing outside the restaurant waiting to be seated, I see a possibly drunk platinum blonde looking right at me in the restaurant, OMG IT’S KIM D FROM REAL HOUSEWIVES OF NEW JERSEY.
“AHHHHHHH”
“AHHHHHHHH”
“OMG!”
“Is it her?”
“It’s her.”
“Are you sure it’s her”
“Is that Teresa next to her?” I see a bundle of black coifed hair.
“THAT’S TERESA!!”
We are escorted to our table, and all 8 of us awkwardly try to turn our heads to see if it’s her as we walk past their table to ours.
“IT’S DEFINITELY HER!”
I HAVEN’T EVEN BEGUN…
Two of my friends run off to talk to Kim D and Teresa as the rest of us settle in.
“Do we want wine?”
“Yes!”
“Red or white?” ….(what do you want? I don’t know what do you want? You pick, no you pick. SOMEBODY PICK! 1 bottle of red, and 1 bottle of white…and then two more of each….heehee)
Our friends return, “We got a picture! We got a picture!” My friend shows us a picture of the two of them, Kim and Teresa, as my friend explains she didn’t know where to put her hand so she put it on Teresa’s chair.
“We told Kim about your scarves go talk to her!” They say to my friend who sells scarves (that makes sense).
Shameless plug: http://www.justjamie.com/
My friend runs off, her shawl flowing behind her, as she heads directly for Kim. She comes back victorious, “I’ll be making a trip to New Jersey this weekend…”
“I think we should get a few appetizers to start, and we can each get our own mains.”
“I just want a salad,” says my friend.
“How about baked clams?”
“I’ll do baked clams,” say the same friend. I thought you just wanted a salad? Fickle pickle.
Pasta, pasta, pasta, “I think I want seafood,” says my friend. Idiot… (ordered: orecchiette with sausage, rigatoni a la vodka, cappellini in a spicy tomato sauce, gnocchi in a tomato sauce, and gnocchi with pesto…and octopus)
We finally put in all of our orders with the waiter.
“I like him he keeps calling me Bella.”
“He called me Bella too…”
“But he smiled at me.”
Is this happening?? At least the man knows what he’s doing.
Every time the waiter puts something on the table I have my camera out before he even puts it on the table. These girls aren’t going to wait for me to take a picture before they dive in.
When the pastas arrive, I pick my fork up like it’s a magical wand, and start going from dish to dish scooping up noodles so I can “appropriately blog” (I haven’t described a dish yet).
So want to hear about the dishes? I do too.
Baked clams: amazing!
Salad: why’d we even order this?
Bread: I meannnn who doesn’t dip their bread in the baked clams sauce? A moron, that’s who.
Mains…look at the descriptions under the pictures for that. This story is long enough as it is.
My friend next to me got the gnocchi in a pesto sauce with melted mozzarella on top (I know!). We should have switched plates because I was essentially sitting on her lap eating the dish. At least they’re large portions.
“Where’s the wine!”
“Let’s take a picture.”
…
“I like the second one.”
“I like the first one.”
“Put up both.”
“Just put up one.”
“Let’s vote.”
“Let’s get dessert outside.”
The bill comes, and it reads, $440 to split by 8.
“That’s like $100 each!”
“No, no it is not.”
“Oh right, like $20 each!”
“No, that isn’t right either.” (this all happened)
“That’s definitely going in the blog” (WHY WOULDN’T IT GO IN THE BLOG!)
We should definitely get dessert…dessert seems smart. What seems smarter than dessert, fried oreos as dessert.
6 for $5. 3 of us get a bag, and I somehow eat three of them. Woops!
“I’m definitely taking a cab back.”
As we’re sitting at a red light, my friend screams, “That’s Lorelai!” (from Gilmore Girls)
“Lorelai!” We scream outside the cab window (that’s not her name).
She waves back.
“Maybe she’s going to San Gennaro.”
I don’t normally do this, but I can’t help it…IT’S TERESA!
Angelo’s (wine)
My friend wanted fully body, I wanted well not full body, another just wanted wine, another just wanted red, so we got chianti. It did the job.
Angelo’s (bread)
Great way to start the meal! It also wasn’t too salty, which was nice, so it didn’t overwhelm you before the meal started.
Angelo’s (baked clams)
This is a double order. It was delicious! It had a good ratio of breading to clam, and there was of course extra sauce to dip your bread in.
Angelo’s (insalata misto)
It was ok. The end.
Angelo’s (Orecchiette Con Broccoli Rape: Small Ear Shaped Pasta with Broccoli Rape and shredded sausage)
This is my dish. I thought it was simple with minimal sausage, but I ate my friend’s pasta next to me with plenty left on my plate, so maybe it’s not the number one thing to order, but it’s definitely simple and a change of pace if you don’t want something too saucy.
Angelo’s (Capellini Angelo: angel hair with mozzarella & rugola in a spicy tomato sauce)
This was not that spicy and a teensy bit saucy, but overall a good dish. Not my favorite on the table.
Angelo’s (Gnocchi Sorrentina: HalfMoon Ravioli in Cream Tomato Sauce)
It was a really nice bite. My friend said it looked like ketchup, which it sort of did.
Angelo’s (Gnocchi in a pesto sauce)
Hands down the best dish at the table. It’s super rich, and you don’t NEED to finish it, but I think everyone deserves a bite of this.
Angelo’s (rigatoni a la vodka)
The noodles were cooked perfectly, and the sauce was delicious. This dish was completely clean by the end of the meal, and was finished first.
Angelo’s (grilled octopus in wine sauce over arugula salad)
It’s “healthy” I guess, but it is still dipped in oil, and not nearly as good as a bowl of pasta. If you’re in Little Italy, just go for it.
San Gannero Festival (fried oreos)
I have never had a fried oreo before, and it is just so much better than you would think it is. It is a ball of fried dough with powdered sugar, and inside is a chewy gooey oreo! It doesn’t scream class, but whatever.
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.
Desnuda
122 East 7th Street (b/t 1st and Avenue A) New York, NY 10009
http://www.desnudany.com/main.php
Since starting this Dukan Diet I have literally been shoveling in all forms of steak, turkey and chicken, and even sashimi and any baked fish I can get my hands on (I mean I had been trying the Skinny Bitch (vegetarian) diet for a while so this was a whole new world for me).
With that being said, I’m sort of sick of all this food, so I was dying to come up with a new way to continue my diet (after two weeks of doing this and I had already cheated…I mean I have a food blog what did you expect?) so my mind wandered to oysters.
I don’t die for them like some people, but I thought this was a good opportunity to expand my palate, so I found Desnuda, a Cevicheria (and oyster bar) and wine bar…an anorexic alcoholic’s dream. Yay!!
I convinced my lush of a cousin to join me (she had oysters the night before, but I think the wine bar swayed her), and I was on my way.
Desnuda is on a block in the East Village, which has a million and one amazing restaurants, so as I was aimlessly searching for the restaurant (no sense of direction AT ALL) I walked by three restaurants I was interested in for my next adventure (still haven’t been to Pylos or Luke’s Lobster) before I made it to Desnuda to be greeted by my cousin already sipping a glass of wine at the bar.
“Is there seating in the back?”
“I think it’s just the bar, “wine bar.””
“Oh, I get it.”
I order the same glass of rose as my cousin (I trust her) and scan what’s happening around me. There is a date happening next to my cousin (which I will agree, it is a fab date spot), and two gay men and their lady friend sitting to my right.
The bartender plops down truffle popcorn in front of us, and I slide it closer to my cousin and I. I suddenly realize it might be for the whole bar.
“I’m sorry is this yours?”
One of the gay guys looks up and replies, “no, it’s yours. They give it to everyone once they order a drink.”
Oh, ok…
“They must like you better than me, because they didn’t give me popcorn when I sat down,” my cousin says.
While that’s nice of her to say, I’m pretty sure they were just waiting for the rest of her party to arrive. I don’t think they thought my cousin came to a wine bar to sit by herself and drink (that’d be so sad).
My cousin had already scanned the menu and decided she was very into two tuna ceviche options, and a lobster ceviche. I really had my heart set on oysters so we figured we’d split one ceviche, and go our own way on one dish.
“Which tuna do you want?”
“I can’t eat fruit on my diet, so whichever one doesn’t have fruit.” (I already had popcorn woops).
“They both don’t.”
“Let’s do the spicy one.”
Then the bartender/waiter/chef (he does it all!) tells us about the specials of the day. I can’t tell if he lists two specials or one, because I only caught the first sentence and the last sentence, but I was into it.
“Maybe we should get a special and a ceviche, and then see what happens next.”
Bye oysters.
“Excuse me, was that one special or two?” (we’re dumb)
“Two.”
“We’ll get the first one,” (which was hamachi).
I sadly was buzzed from the one glass, and my cousin was cruising to her second.
“I like to try new drinks,” my cousin says.
“What are you getting next?”
“Can you get white wine after you have red, or is it the other way around?”
“I have no clue.”
“I don’t want the waiter to think I’m dumb.”
“Who cares if he thinks you’re dumb, just order a drink.”
She gets the cava, while I just get a second round of the rose. What do I know??
I then watch the bartender/waiter whip out a weird gadget and place glass bobbles on the table that look like round light bulbs: smoke starts going everywhere, and we hear him instruct our neighbors, “wait a minute ½ for this, and then eat this one minute after…”
Sounds complicated, but I’m jealous. What are they eating?
Tea smoked oysters.
Our tuna ceviche comes first, but I was convinced it was the hamachi, because when I ordered I said “we’ll have the Hamachi and the tuna ceviche” so I had assumed it’d arrive in that order, which in retrospect makes absolutely no sense, but like I said I had one glass and was tipsy.
So good! and SO spicy!
Hamachi is prepared next, and is just so so pretty. I like the tuna better, but the Hamachi was yummy, but they put salt and pepper on top, and it was just way too salty.
My cousin is up to glass #3, while I’m treading lightly with #2. I decide it’s only right if we get a third dish, and the lobster ceviche is ordered, which was my favorite by far, probably because it was the least healthy according to my diet. It came with mango (oops), and it was mixed with coconut milk (douple oops).
“The guy next to me keeps bumping his elbow into me,” my cousin says.
“Do you want to move seats?”
“No, it’s ok. I think he has an accent. Maybe he’s Israeli.”
“If he’s bumping into you then he’s definitely Israeli,” and we start cracking up, we’re hysterical! (she married an Israeli, judge me if you will, but they’re pushy sometimes, but I’m ride or die for my homeland).
As we’re paying the bill, I realize I’m not even one step closer to liking oysters more, but I like ceviche more.
Desnuda (rose wine)
It’s a wine bar so I have to highlight the wine. Here it is. I know nothing, and I can’t give an ounce of an educated summary of the flavors, but I drank it, and it increased my BAC, so I’m into it.
Desnuda (truffle popcorn)
The beginning of the end of my diet. Some people are a little over truffle’d everything. Sometimes I agree, but not this time. I don’t know why I’ve never had this before! AMAZING, and worth just going for wine and the popcorn!
Desnuda (tuna ceviche with jalapenos and scallions)
This was SO spicy. I really liked it though, and I thought it was good quality tuna. It was the right cut, and had good flavor!
Desnuda (hamachi: with scallions and salt and pepper)
A little salty but I scraped the salt off and threw the scallion everywhere! You can see the jalapeno on the side, which was accidentally left over from the tuna. I’m messy.
Desnuda (lobster ceviche: coconut milk and mangos)
I couldn’t find the detailed description on the online menu, but trust me when I say I died for this. I love lobster in general, and I was obsessed with the mango/coconut milk combo.
PETE’S TAVERN [Click the photo above to go to Pete’s Tavern’s website]
129 East 18th Street (on the corner of Irving) New York, NY 10003
As all group dinners with girls are, this one was a process: after a 6 part group email, a few side gchat sessions, and possibly two private texting sessions (all about where to go for dinner), we eventually decided on Pete’s Tavern in Gramercy.
The only way I can think of to describe this place is just straight up old school. It’s dark and pub-like, with quality food, and pictures of the celebrities that have walked through its doors, and oh yeah, it was on Sex & the City.
I usually have an opinion about where we’re eating, and being the pretentious person that I am, I would have preferred to eat at a trendier place, and not a spot my dad or grandpa would be into going to, but this time I kept my opinion to myself.
Because this idiot (that’s me) is on a diet, the Dukan Diet. Yes I am! After hearing all my friends talk about the diet and then watching them shed the pounds, I figured I had to try this thing out since “it’s so easy.” I know what you’re thinking, why would you start a diet when the summer is ending…well let me tell you!
I don’t know about you, but I beast on the weekends in the summer. Either I’m away or I’m hungover or I’m away AND hungover (“I’m away!” “I need bacon” “it’s whole wheat it’s fine” “it’s ok it’s scooped”), and I see no reason to watch what I shove in my mouth even if I’m in a bikini while I’m eating it. I think it doesn’t count, but it does. And I give myself a serious period of recovery before I start being a human again after these weekends, so my gym time has been limited…SO DUKAN!
Dukan diet has no portion control which I’m fully down with, and it’s ALL protein, so I really couldn’t complain about Pete’s Tavern knowing full well I could order a steak and be in my diet guidelines (I’m also allowed diet soda and coffee. It’s absurd).
I obviously arrive first as my friends are not timely people, plopped down, ordered a glass of wine (whatever I can cheat with alcohol), decided on the kobe beef burger (with no bun and no garnish), and possibly a side of vegetables (which I was finally allowed to eat after completing the “attack phase”…order the book if you’re confused) and waited for them to arrive.
I tell the waiter I want something dry, and he tells me he doesn’t know much about alcohol (lie to me). He throws a full glass of wine down on the table.
I taste it, cringe, and go, “It’s good. Thanks!”
The other three eventually arrive, and one looks particularly peeved.
“I’ve been setting up my classroom all week.” Her hair is back in a ponytail. She has no make-up on, no heels on, and her face screams misery. She’s clearly not going anywhere after this dinner. (I mentally cross her name off my list of people going out tonight).
As I am not a teacher, and have not had a full summer off, my sympathy is minimal.
“What is this diet you’re on?”
“I’m essentially starving my body of all sugars, but I can eat as much steak as I want.”
My friends peruse the menu as our wacky waiter asks if anyone wants something to drink. He is speaking super-fast, and almost looks like he’s running around the restaurant when he zooms past our table.
He returns with wine for one friend, no alcohol for the sad teacher in the corner, and the house ale for my other friend, which he describes as a medium beer.
“So what’s it taste like?”
“It’s not light, and it’s not dark.”
“Can you relate it to another beer.”
“It’s in the middle.”
“Ok whatever I’ll get that.”
It just tastes like beer is all I know.
They end up ordering a hamburger with sweet potato fries, pasta WITH chicken added (I guess she’s hungry?), and a cheeseburger with fries.
As the waiter sprints off we begin our conversation.
“I can’t believe you guys went to a male strip club.”
We did. Magic Mike in the flesh (pun intended). It’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever done, and I highly recommend it.
“Why did you go?”
“We walked by it, and this one thought it’d be fun to go,” I say pointing to my ale drinking friend.
“It’s amazing they make you feel great.” (she got a lapdance, which was worth watching)
“They made me feel weird.”
“We got drunk.”
“I high-fived one while they were giving a lapdance.”
“I want to go for my bachelorette party.”
“We should go every week,” says the ale drinker.
“No, we shouldn’t.”
I see our waiter doing an Olympic like run towards us with our food, and I see my non bun burger has onion rings, and I sadly lift them up and move them to the corner 😦
The kobe burger was delicious, and my friends loved their burgers. My friend got the spaghetti ala Pete, which has tomato, garlic, basil extra virgin olive oil, and oh yeah, chicken.
As the busboy is cleaning up our table, he spills water over the teacher’s Iphone. Bad idea.
We all fear for the worst that the busboy is going to have to pay for a new phone, but thank goodness it still works.
We split the check, and as we’re leaving, my friend has pulled up the Hunkamania schedule for the upcoming weeks.
“Guys, mark it down.”
Pete’s Tavern (side of grilled vegetables)
Veggies are allowed in the second phase of my diet (score for me) so this was my big splurge (I know I sound like a freak, but who doesn’t sound like a freak when they’re dieting). I was pretty pleased with myself.
Pete’s Tavern (spaghetti a la Pete’s: tomato, garlic, basil, extra virgin olive oil)
Pasta with basic classy ingredients is hard to say no to! My friend added chicken. I don’t personally love chicken mixed with pasta (maybe clams?), but if a girl wants some protein, do what you gotta do.
Pete’s Tavern (hamburger with sweet potato fries)
That just looks amazing! The bun, the fries, it’s a shame my diet prohibits me from eating this. I love myself. I hate myself.
Pete’s Tavern (cheesburger with fries, pickle and cole slaw)
My friend approved of her burger. Pete’s Tavern’s reputation remains in tact.
Pete’s Tavern (kobe beef hamburger, no bun, onion rings)
I sadly removed the onion rings, but it was delicious! I asked for it medium, and I thought it tasted rich and velvety (is that a good description?) I don’t know if it the level of fat qualifies for the Dukan Diet I kan (get it) do what I want.
Barbuto [Click the photo above to go to Barbuto’s website]
775 Washington Street (between west 12th and Jane Street) New York, NY 10014
Being that my last dinner with my dad and sister was such a success, they were ready for their next round, so I made a reservation at Barbuto in the West Village. After watching Top Chef Masters a few seasons back I was all up in Jonathan Waxman’s business and was intent upon eating there a while back, so this was my second trip, and I was thrilled about it.
I knew the food would be good, and I like the “neighborhood” vibe.
My sister texted me that she was in crazy traffic, but as it turns out so was I, so they beat me to the restaurant.
I ended up hopping out of the cab and walking 4 blocks, because we sat through two red lights, and my patience was running thin, two blocks away my sister texts me, “where are you?”
“Walking”
“I’m sitting”
RELAX.
I arrive and see olives have already been placed at the table. Score!
I sit across from my sister and dive into the olives as we wait for my dad (he was parking the car).
We’re all obviously starving, and the dinner reservation is for 7:15, so imagine if I had made it for 8pm.
“Where’s the waiter?” My dad exclaims. He asks two different busboys to summon our waiter (we had already finished the olives).
I have such a strange love for this place, and kept mentioning weird facts about it, as we strummed our fingers waiting to eat.
“Isn’t the garage style windows so cute?…Don’t you love how casual it is?…I like the area.” (uch put a cork on it).
“The apartments around here are pretty nice. Would you live here?” my dad asks.
“Maybe.” Are you paying my rent for this? Yeah I didn’t think so. I’ll just have to go here for dinner instead.
Finally the waiter arrives, and we order wine and food.
My sister and my dad got white, and I got red (because I can’t have white, stupid allergy!).
I ordered the green salad and scallops (knowing full well I could just have bites of the fattier options off of the other table members).
My sister gets Burrata cheese (like anything else on the menu stood a chance), and pork ribs with peaches.
My dad orders the chicken, because it’s their specialty, but can’t decide on an app.
The waiter recommends a half order of the gnocchi, and it was like…the most ground breaking moment of the whole dinner.
“Done!” my dad says.
“Would you like any sides?”
I pick the sautéed greens figuring we’re bound to eat some of it.
“Do they not give you bread here?”
“Ask for it.”
We asked for it.
Our appetizers arrive, and my dad and sister look like they’re ready for battle.
“Wait! I need to take a picture!”
They look wounded, and I try to snap the photos as fast as I can, and then they go in for the kill.
No one wants one bite of my lettuce, while my sister and I nearly stab my dad’s thumb aiming our forks at his pasta.
As we shovel it in, I go into my past weekend in Fire Island.
“I threw up.”
“Ewwww, you did.”
I did! What can I tell you I did! It happens! I usually reject rocket fuels, but I had made an executive decision that it was go hard or go home, and I guess I went hard, and then I went home and threw up.
“Did you make it to the bathroom?” my dad asks.
“Yes of course I did!” I mean give me some credit.
The throw up was just a lead into another story anyway, and yes I tell my dad this stuff.
“So as I was stuck on the couch dying I was with all the guys because the girls left to get food, and watching guys bro out is just weird.”
I went on to explain that I watched my guy friends play beer pong at noon on a Saturday morning, and when I finally got my act together and the girls left for the beach, we could hear the guys rocking out to Katy Perry as we left…
Mains arrive. The plates are not the prettiest, but that’s why I sort of love it. It reminds me of eating at home, where presentation is secondary to taste.
I dig into my scallops with corn and scallions, and the corn was so sweet! I don’t think my dad was originally so into the chicken, but he grew to love it, and needed like 3 extra napkins. Dad, stop.
My sister proclaimed that her dish is the best, and I don’t know maybe it is, because after I finished my scallops I pulled her plate closer to me and screamed, “give me some of it!”
We soon realize we never got our side of veggies, because we clearly needed more. The waiter was super great, and didn’t even charge us for it. They were good, but probably would have been better had we eaten it with the rest of our meal. I thought they were sort of lemony.
“We’re getting dessert right?”
“Duhhhh.”
As the dessert menus are handed out. My dad stares at the menu, looks at my sister, and is like “well we all know who wants the cheesecake.”
My sister humbly shrugs like it’s a compliment.
“Actually the cheesecake DOES look pretty good,” my dad says.
So we got it. Again, it looked like a bunch of mush when it came over with the sauce on top.
“Too much raspberry sauce,”my dad and sister agree. Of course we don’t like the fruit portion.
But boy was it good…
As we’re getting ready to leave, I mention another restaurant I’m considering for our next dinner.
“Yeah I went with my friend and his boyfriend” (yes he’s gay).
“Where is it?”
“Christopher Street.”
“Of course it is…” Watch it Dad, because that might be our next stop.
Barbuto (gnocchi con granoturco: local corn & burst cherry tomatoes)
I can’t put into words how great this was. I also hate that guys can order pasta as an appetizer while I chomped on lettuce. It’s so unfair.
Barbuto (insalata stagionale: peaches, watermelon & burrata)
Summer is the time for fruit, and cheese is…for every season. Refreshing salad. I didn’t love the cheese, because I expected it to be creamier, but still very good!
Barbuto (giardino verde: garden greens & lemon-olive oil)
It’s just lettuce, and it was a little salty, but I wasn’t expecting the world when I ordered this.
Barbuto (costine di maiale: pork ribs & caramelized peaches)
I rarely dip into the red meat pool these days, and this is so totally worth it. Pork and peaches are a fab combo, and the portion is piled high. My sister almost didn’t finish it…don’t worry she did.
Barbuto (pollo al forno: jw chicken & salsa verde)
The Barbuto specialty! Chicken can sometimes be boring, but this has crispy skin, and is super juicy, and could feed a whole family…or just my dad.
Barbuto (cappa sante: grilled scallops, corn& scallions)
Most places give you like 3 scallops, and they give you 5, so yay to that! I loved the corn and scallions, and the scallops were delic! It’s a great summer option.
Barbuto (sauteed garden greens)
It was a bit lemony. I don’t think you absolutely need to order it, but it’s still a good veggie option.
Barbuto (cheesecake)
So so so so yummy! I missed the last bite, because a raspberry was obstructing my view!
It’s my fav day of the year, National Tequila Day! [Click the photo above to read How to Celebrate National Tequila Day, July 24th]
David Burke Kitchen in the James Hotel [Click the photo above to go to David Burke Kitchen’s website]
23 Grand Street (between 6th and Thompson Avenue) New York, NY 10013
My sister and I felt like geniuses when we decided to take my mom to a trendy restaurant for her birthday for Restaurant Week (not like we were paying anyway, but it seemed like a good idea)With that said, I would like to officially hate hard on Restaurant Week or specifically Restaurant Week at David Burke Kitchen. I don’t know if this place always sucks or if it was just when we went, but this place has got to go.
It’s like the wait staff judges the patrons for getting a deal, so they even it out with crap service (how cranky do I sound?)
Anyway! Let’s begin!
My sister texted me that her and my mom had arrived 20 minutes prior to the reservation, so I took it as a cue that I had to rush downtown to meet them. As it turns out, I was there before them, because they decided to walk around the neighborhood.
I sat in a chair people watching and then judging the people I watched while I waited. I eventually see them coming towards me clicking their heels as they walked.
“Why’d you wear heels?” (my mom also pulled her back earlier this week, so you tell me if this is normal)
“We brought them with us, and put them on in the car.” (so you can sit with your feet under the table)
We are seated, and I can see my mom already eyeing the restaurant (we rarely sit at the table we’re seated at, because my mom always feels like we could have gotten a better table).
“Whats wrong?”
“I need a booth for my back.”
“It’s really that bad?”
“Yes.”
She looks at my sister, “can you run to the car and get me a towel?”
The bread basket gets placed in front us, and my sister looks at my mom like she is straight up out of her mind.
“I just put my heels on.”
“We’re in a hotel Mom. They have to have a pillow somewhere.”
As my mom waddles around the restaurant in search of a pillow, my sister and I order wine.
She comes back victorious with a pillow.
“We ordered wine.”
“Without me?” My mom hardly drinks to begin with.
You would think it would be easy enough to get the waiter back over to our table so my mom could order wine, and we could order dinner, no dice. I could have flashed the whole restaurant, and no one would have flinched.
I guess it gave us time to confirm our orders. I was “dieting” as I proceeded to pick at the bread basket (“where’s the butter?!”) so I went with a plain salad and the sea bass. My sister got the sea bass as well, but she ordered Burrata cheese as her app (girl is obsessed with queso). My mom’s tomato allergy inhibited her from committing to a dish….or a wine for that matter. Oh and P.S. since it’s restaurant week, all our meals come with a dessert…like I was skipping that!
The waiter returned, and it was tomato time.
I had looked up that the pretzel crab cake was a specialty of theirs so my mom had planned on ordering that, but it turns out there are tomatoes every which way in this dish.
“Even the pepper sauce?”
“Yes.”
“Can I just get this without any of the garnish?”
“Yes, but then it’s just crab cakes with pretzels.”
“That’s fine.”
“Is this a preference or an allergy?” (do you think she’d be this difficult just over a food preference, please, slip my mom some tomatoes and see what happens to her little face).
“ALLERGY” we all say.
We decide to give my mom her cards and gift, while we wait for our food. Our family believes in the art of the perfect card, so we don’t write any sentimental crap inside, we just search for the funniest perfect cards, and we each buy a minimum of 3 cards per person (we’re cute), so needless to say my mom had a lot of cards to open up, and she opened them all up before the apps arrived.
She finally gets to her gift, and my sister and I sit there waiting for my mom’s disappointment.
Pause….”what is it?”
“It’s a gift card so you can get a massage!”
“Do they have reflexology?”
(no)
But instead we go with, “they have hot stone massages!”
Appetizers….
My salad essentially sucked, and they didn’t even offer me ground pepper. My sister obviously had no problem with a hunk of cheese, and my mom really was just eating crab cakes with pretzel sticks on top…and she still hadn’t gotten her wine.
I realize I need to get my mom a candle so I run off to tell the hostess (because I obviously can’t find our waiter) before I forget. I also notice that the restaurant is filled with women, barely any men.
“Mom did you know the Kardashians stayed at the same hotel as us in London?”
“Where did we stay again?”
“Athenaeum” (yes, we did feel special!)
“Remember when you almost got run over by that cab driver?” We are all crying of laughter visualizing my mom running for her life as a cab driver chases her across the intersection (shopping bags in hand screaming at the top of her lungs).
“That cab driver was a meany.”
“He was mom.”
Main courses: my fish was the size of my thumb, and my mom’s meat was pretty effing tough. I tried cutting it with my knife and decided to screw it and just put the whole thing in my mouth.
As we’re eating we look around the restaurant at the pictures hanging on the walls. The pictures are of chefs with live animals.
My sister looks to her left and goes, “I don’t want to see a picture of a lamb before I eat lamb chops.”
I turn my head around and see a picture of a sweet looking cow otherwise known as steak.
“Yeah, what were they thinking?”
“I’m thirsty.”
Our water glasses haven’t been refilled once.
Dessert comes, and I’m petrified they forgot the candle. They didn’t! Thank G-d! Unfortunately the mint brownie my mom ordered pretty much sucks.
My strawberry shortcake parfait is the only redeeming quality of this whole meal, but a main ingredient is funfetti cake. I LOVE funfetti cake but it’s not worth $15 just sayin.
My sister ordered one of the only desserts not included as part of the restaurant week menu, and got the cheesecake (do you see a trend here with my sister?). It was actually a cheese cake tree of cake lollipops.
My sister took a bite of each lollipop, and if she didn’t like it she would just shove the half eaten pop back into the tree. She’s 21 years old by the way.
It was finally time to leave and we decide to finish up our night with a trip to the Jimmy rooftop. Time for pictures (after we have just eaten 3 courses)!
We asked some lady to take a picture of the three of us, and she was so great! You know when you feel guilty for asking a complete stranger to take multiple pictures of yourself? She was really into it, and did different angles and everything. As she hands the camera back to my mom, looks right at my mom’s outfit and goes “you have great boobs!”
“The view is great!” my mom replies. Happy Birthday Mom!
David Burke Kitchen (bread)
I’ll give it to them, they have good bread. It’s all downhill from here.
David Burke Kitchen (seasonal salad)
The cucumbers were gross, the salad was soggy, I was hating life.
David Burke Kitchen (pretzel crab cake: mustard glaze, boston beer foam, pepper marmalade)
To be fair, my mom had the dish altered, but it tasted like plain ol’ crab cakes to me, and those pretzel sticks reminded me of the pretzels I used to snack on at day camp (and pretend they were cigarettes obviously).
David Burke Kitchen (asparagus & buratta salad: watermelon, tomoato prisciutto)
Solid, but a bit mushy, and lets be real, we’ve all seen a prettier plate.
David Burke Kitchen (pork chop: cumin bacon, mango chutney, parsley onion rings)
This had potential to be great! It just wasn’t. The porkchop was just so so tough, and the bacon was good, but it was fatty not crispy.
David Burke Kitchen (black sea bass: baby shrimp, spinach, tomato, olive, yellow pepper)
It’s good, I’ll admitt that, but I’m pretty sure it was sitting for a while, because it wasn’t too hot when I got it. And, look how small that piece of fish is!
David Burke Kitchen (mint brownie sundae)
I can’t find the description on the website, but it was sorta dry and way too minty. DON’T GET IT.
David Burke Kitchen (strawberry shortcake parfait)
It’s delicious! I should have just ordered this.
David Burke Kitchen (the original cheesecake lollipop tree for two, passion fruit whipped cream)
It’s good, it’s balls of cheesecake!
Don’t know where to go for Restaurant Week? Me either! I searched for some recommendations, and now you can read them too. [Click the photo above to read Recommendations for New York Restaurant Week]
Nicoletta [Click the photo above to go to Nicoletta website]
160 Second Avenue (on the corner of 10th Street), New York, NY 10003
I know what you’re thinking, I’ve never heard of Nicoletta, what is this place? I’m just so insanely on trend that I decided to a try the new Michael White restaurant that opened in mid-June (let me think I’m cool ok!).
I secretly knew there might be a wait since it’s a new restaurant and they don’t take reservations, but I didn’t tell my friend who I was meeting there (like I was gonna let her pick a different place), so I got there a few minutes early, put my name down, and phoned my mom to kill some time.
I see my friend approaching, and I tell my mom I have to go, “you called me!” She says and then hangs up. Jewish moms…
I break the news to her that there is a wait, and I have to say, she kept it together pretty well, considering she texted me that she was starving a few minutes before arriving, so plus 5 for maintaining your composure girl.
We opt to go across the street to 13th Step to get a beer, while we wait for our table (they call you when your table is up). Just as we order our Blue Moons (the girly beer), we get a call saying our table is ready. It was like 10 minutes earlier than they said, so I already loved them. We cancel our drinks and haul ass back to Nicoletta (it was 10 feet away, but we were hungry!).
“This place is so cute. I love the aesthetic….you can put that in the blog. aes-thet-ic,” my friend says it slowly like I’m about to whip out a pad and jot it down.
“I’ll be sure to note that.” That being said, it is cute. Brick walls, red décor, I’m gonna label it “laid back chic.” Do what you want with that information.
We order our wine and settle into the menu.
“Ok, what are we gonna get?”
We try so hard to look at the menu and decide, but we keep getting distracted, talking about how hungry we are, her “douschebag professor,” you get the idea….
I felt like my eyes were turning into ping pong balls as I tried to catch the waiter’s eye, maintain eye contact with my friend, and scan the menu (I’m a multi-tasker what can I say?).
“Ok, let’s just decide on a pizza first.”
“I’m not into red meat,” my friend replies.
“Great, I try to avoid red meat too.”
We go for the broccolo pie, which is broccoli rabe, peppers, and some pesto thing happening.
“Doesn’t your family think it’s weird that you don’t eat meat? Like your dad?” (referencing one of my blog posts, she’s a fan!)
“Yeah, he does, but then he does this…” and I motion him hitting his chin implying my face blew up.
“I hate that! My brother makes fun of me too, but did he run 3 miles before eating, no! I did!”
I’m suddenly wondering if we’re on the same page…
“You run 3 miles?”
“I work out like 5 or 6 days a week.” Hmm, do you? I work out 3 days a week, putting her at a 50% advantage in the aerobic department. I don’t like not being the fit one at the table (it happens often if you can imagine). I’m starting to doubt her.
We order two “small bites,” of a cucumber salad and risotto balls (her suggestion, my love for her is growing again).
We look over at the table next to us, and two skinny girls are eating 3 small bites. We will NOT be outdone.
“Maybe we should get that eggplant,” she says. I can forgive you for your 5-6 workout regimen. Consider it water under the bridge.
We order, and my friend rushes to wash her hands. The cheese stands alone. I whip out my phone, and pretend I’m busy.
She sits back down, and tells me there is a bathroom on the main floor. I am loving this place more and more.
The small bites are indeed small (my pictures below make them look large, but they are not, but they’re also $5 sooo I get it), but they’re really really yummy.
Cucumber salad is on the healthy side with a nice crunch; the eggplant has great flavor, and it comes with bread so yay to that, and the risotto balls are deep fried balls of rice, so I didn’t foresee that being a problem (only 4 of them though, so portion control!)
My friend notices little silver circles at the sides of our table.
“Is this for our bags?”
I look around at the other tables. “Nope, that’s where they put the pizza stand in.”
Honest mistake. She’s going to kill me when she reads this, because she’s going to say I made her sound like an idiot. I think it’s a normal question!
Before I can fully laugh at her, we look at the skinny girls next to us, and see their pizza has come. Looks like they’re eating tonight too. I wonder if they ate anything else today, or if they’re just naturally skinny.
Our pizza arrives, and it’s go time! It was yummy, but I’m gonna shoot you straight, I liked the small bites better. We decided we would have preferred a “saucier” pizza.
“Like the ones the girls have next to us…” Do you think these girls know how much trouble they’re causing for us?
I look down at my wine, and I see a little bug has lost its way into my glass of rose, and is now doing the free style in my glass. It looks like the bug is legit swimming in my glass, and I cannot stop watching it.
“Look at that thing!”
“It’s really swimming.”
I share with the busboy that I have an Olympic swimmer in my wine glass, and he takes it and returns with a new glass that is bug free.
“Would you ladies like dessert?” YES.
Gelato is the only option, and I’m not complaining.
“Would you like any toppings?”
We pick the pistachio nuts that the waiter recommends, and he looks at us all crazy and says, “that’s it?” Toppings are fifty cents fyi.
We go for the caramel sauce.
As we wait for our dessert, we see the girls next to us have ordered individual gelatos. Now they’re just rude!
We get ours, and it is definitely the best part of the meal. It’s amazing. 16 handles may be across the street, but ditch the fro yo and get the gelato for sure.
As we depart from the restaurant, I realize there is construction on 3rd avenue, and no cars are allowed on the street. Guess I’ll call my mom while I walk home.
Nicoletta (wine)
This picture was taken before a bug flew into my glass. I don’t know much about wine, but I liked mine.
Nicoletta (cetriolo:spicy red wine vinegar marinated, cucumbers, black peppercorn)
This was delicious! I am a really picky cucumber eater (I don’t like when it has a mushy center), and this had the perfect crunch and mix of acid. I loved it!
Nicoletta (caponata: marinated sicilian eggplant, peppers, pine nuts, basil)
This was surprisingly amazing. I loved it, and tried to share with my friend, but I kept dipping my fork back into the little bowl.
And that bread? Crispy and unreal.
Nicoletta (suppli’ risotto, mozzarella, ragu antico)
A deep fried carb with dipping sauce. It’s not packed with flavor, but it’s not meant to be. It’s just yum.
Nicoletta (broccolo pizza: broccoli rabe pesto, smoked scamorza cheese, cherry peppers, spicy bread crumbs)
Looks pretty good right??? I think it’s the same pizza they have on the website, which makes me feel like I have superb photography skills. Anyway, it is really great, but I think it needed something like maybe more tomatoes or salt, and they dont serve the food with any of your standard pizza toppings.
Nicoletta (gelato with caramel sauce and pistachio brittle)
I could not help myself with putting up two pictures of this. It was just so good. They said the gelato was vanilla flavored, but I swear it had some marshmallow thing happening. Also, please note that it’s not a super large portion: they serve it in a regular size glass.
Morandi [Click the photo above to go to Morandi’s website]
211 Wavery Place (b/t 10th and Charles Street) New York, NY 10014
My dad is back! He said it was time for him to make another appearance, but this time with my sister. They both said they’re going to be famous. I’m glad they think my blog is so popular, meanwhile, I never even mention their names, and maybe 4.3 people read it, including my dad and sister.
I decide the safest bet with my dad is Italian so I make earlyish reservations at Morandi. I arrive right as my sister is ordering a glass of wine at the bar.
“Dad’s parking the car. He ran a red light on the way here.”
“Yea yea, I’m sure he said it was yellow.”
We get seated in a tightish booth, and we stare at the menu. Last time I was here I died over their brussel sprout salad, but the waitress told me they removed it from their menu about a month ago (damn you!).
“What’s good here?” My dad asks.
“The fried artichokes.”
“I love artichokes. That’s a definite.”
“Ooh, there’s burrata cheese,” my sister whispers.
“I thought we were dieting,” says my dad after he JUST decided on fried artichokes.
“Well there’s nothing else that I want,” she replies back completely undeterred. If my sister wants cheese, she’s getting cheese.
“I think I’m going to get the grilled octopus,” I say, I’m not letting my dad change this around. It’s bikini season, grilled, definitely grilled.
“Do you think we have enough appetizers?” (2 for 3 people? We haven’t even begun!)
“I don’t like artichokes,” says my sister.
“How do ya not like artichokes?” as he taps the menu.
“I just don’t,” (she just doesn’t).
The waitress comes over to tell us about the specials for the night, but she doesn’t have them memorized yet, so she keeps looking down at her pad of paper.
“You havin’ some trouble there?” My dad asks cracking up.
Let’s hope our waitress has a sense of humor, because my dad loves to “joke” with the waitress. We tell him they don’t like it, but he thinks he’s making their day (“you guys are crazy, they love it!”)
“Sorry, you guys are my first of the night. I don’t have it memorized yet,” she says with a smile.
Fortunately, one of the appetizer specials was a Boccaccini salad (that’s mozzarella cheese), so my dad said he would compromise mozz for Burrata. Really seems like the same thing to me, but whatever I still get the grilled octopus so I’ll stay out of this one.
Oh, but mains. What about the mains!
I originally decided on the salmon, but the waitress recommends the sea bass and to get a side of vegetables with it.
“It’s very popular.”
“Ok, sure.” I’m not paying. Bring on the sides.
My sister’s turn. She was already shot down on appetizers (but not really because she still got cheese, and we all ate it).
“I don’t know what pasta to get.”
“You’re gonna get pasta!”
Oh boy…
“I don’t like any of the meat dishes! Maybe I’ll get the ravioli.”
“RAVIOLI!”
Have you guys not met?
She finds another dish my dad was eyeing, and orders pasta with spicy crabmeat (this is fine, because he definitely wants a bite of it).
Pasta is pasta, and whether the meat is inside the noodle or sitting right next to it, it still gets in your stomach, so I have no idea why this was deemed the healthier choice.
Mr “RAVIOLI!” ordered the linguine with clams (whole wheat pasta).
“Just so you know there’s a charge for making it whole wheat.”
“Are you kiddin’ me?”
At least she warned him.
Apps arrive, and it is time to chow down.
“The fried artichokes are delicious!”
He plops one down on my plate, and offers my sister one.
“I DON’T LIKE ARTICHOKES!”
“But these are the hearts!” She doesn’t like ‘em!
Grilled octopus is delic, and I slice a tentacle off to give my sister.
“I want the celery too!”
Ok ok!
I try to go for just the tomatoes and avoid the Boccacini cheese (I’m sort of successful) as I stab my sister’s plate.
I decide midway through appetizers that seltzer isn’t cutting it, and I order a glass of wine. Wow, I feel much better.
Mains are placed on the table, but my vegetable side is placed in the middle of the table. I blow a kiss good-bye to my vegetables knowing I won’t get one bite now that they are not right next to me.
My dad grabs his fork…”WAIT! SHE DIDN’T TAKE A PICTURE YET!” My sister yells.
I try to take the pics as quickly as possible, and off we go.
My dad is always super critical of fish as he refers to it as having a “fishy taste.” We have a very very mature palate.
I cut him a piece, “Not too big!”
He takes one bite, “wow that’s delicious! What is that?”
“Mediterranean sea bass,” my sister pipes in as she pop 2 noodles in her mouth.
“Oh, ok got it.”
I realize what’s happening here, and it’s not good. “Dad, no, it’s not a Mediterranean sea bass. It’s a sea bass cooked Mediterranean style.”
“Ohhh, are you sure?”
“Yes!”
I shouldn’t have said anything until the next time we’re at a restaurant, and my dad orders sea bass and asks if it’s from the Mediterranean, because it’s the only fish he likes.
I go to grab a noodle off my sister’s plate, but I’m a little buzzed and grab crab instead.
“I can’t believe you just took my last bite of crab.”
I’m never going to live that down. “Mom, she took the last bite of crab…Oh, of course she did. So selfish” (I swear I thought it was a noodle!)
“Give me another bite of that fish,” my dad says as there is nothing left of his whole wheat spaghetti. He is now scooping the sauce up with the bread.
I hand him another piece. “The last bite was a little fishy.”
“That was a caper Dad.”
“Maybe we should get frozen yogurt for dessert instead,” my dad says as they clear the table.
My sister and I almost laugh in his face. “We’re getting dessert,” we say at the same time.
We order the tiramisu, but before we do we ask the waitress how it’s pronounced, because my dad pronounces it like Tammy Sue, and he swear it’s the right way.
The waitress pronounces it correctly, and we go, “our dad thinks it’s pronounced Ter-amee Sue, like a girl’s name.”
The waitress just starts laughing (she got a big tip, because my dad said she had a great sense of humor).
Guess what? Mr Fro Yo had a bite.
As we’re leaving, I ask my dad “did you run any red lights on the way here?”
“It was yellow.”
Morandi (bread)
I am embarrassed to tell you how quickly this basket was gobbled up. That’s all I will say.
Morandi (Carciofi alla giudea: fried artichokes with lemon)
My dad’s favorite! Crunchy, yummy, you get the idea!
Morandi (Polipetti e sedano: grilled octopus with celery & black olives)
I could see how one might think this looks weird, but it was great! I finished the whole thing!
Morandi (Boccaccini salad)
Cheese was yummy, and the tomatoes were firm. I despise mushy tomatoes.
Morandi (Orata alla griglia: grilled whole sea bream with lemon-oregano oil)
Check out my main, it’s pretty and yummy, and I totally convinced myself I was the healthiest person in the restaurant.
Morandi (Broccoli Rabe)
I was able to sneak a few bites, and it had great flavor. I think they squeezed some lemon on it. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t care.
Morandi (Linguine alle vongole: pasta with clams, white wine & green garlic)
This sauce was unreal. It had more flavor than I would expect from a clam sauce.
Morandi (Fusilli con granchio e pomodorini piccanti: spiral pasta with spicy crab & cherry tomato ragú)
So yummy!!
Morandi (tiramisu)
Look at it! So delicious!
GirlyFoodie 