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.
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.
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!
Mono + Mono [Click the photo above to go to Mono + Mono’s website]
116 E 4th St (between 1st and 2nd Ave), New York, NY 10003
Girl birthday dinners…too many girls, too many opinions: Is this funny? What do we order? Is this insulting? Can I taste that? Am I being left out? Did we just get deep? Should we order drinks? Fun, but oh em effing gee!
This one started out reg, with an email invite for seven of our closest friends to Mono + Mono either Tues or Wednesday. Perk of a birthday dinner is you don’t spend 30 e-mails fighting over what restaurant to go to (or at least that happens with my friends: I don’t like that place, that’s too far, the food looks weird, it’s too much money, I want byob…is your head spinning?). But Tuesday or Wednesday was like its own ticking time bomb…
“I don’t care, up to you.”
“Whatever works”
“I’m down for whatever”
The email chain continues with different ways of trying to convey that each girl is “go with the flow and fine with whatever,” until the opinionated one of the group is like WEDNESDAY! Ok fine, no one wanted to make a decision anyway.
7:30 dinner gives me just enough time to turn into a human being post work. We arrive, and the host greets us suggesting we hang up our coats, because in his exact words, “it’s a stove back there.” (a stove? Maybe an oven? I immediately think of Bridesmaid’s…What kind of name is stove?”)
Only 3 out of 7 have arrived, and I have to tell you, I’m starving. I already looked up the restaurant ahead of time (I mean who doesn’t??), but the menu was overwhelming me nonetheless. Mono + Mono specializes in their fried chicken, and their Soju (Soju is Korean alcohol, but I would say it pretty much tastes like vodka infused with fruit) so in my mind those were definites.
Eventually the others arrive, and we can get down to business, but not before my friend arrives, plops down in her seat, and announces she “loves getting spit in the face at work” (she’s a middle school teacher in the Bronx, so a student spit at her). What.an.intro. Dinner is about to go down…
“Are we sharing?”
“Lets share.”
“Yeah, lets share.”
….
“I want the chicken.”
“Ok, what chicken should we get?”
“I want fries too.”
“I don’t eat chicken, but I’m just going to get something else.” (what?)
So far we have 2 large plates of fried chicken (1 soy garlic, and 1 hot & spicy) and one order of French fries after my friend boldly states that she “loves potatoes.” Yeah, ok, sure.
“The hot & spicy is pretty spicy”
“That’s ok, we like spicy,” says Miss Wednesday. Since I actually like spicy it was fine with me.
The waiter throws out that the chicken takes 40 minutes to prepare…wait what? Let’s get more food.
“Who wants sushi?”
“I’m fine with sushi.”
“We’re still getting the French fries right?”
“Yes.”
“How about the ninja roll?”
“Wait, are we getting French fries?”
….
“I want a salad, does anyone else want a salad?”
“if you want the salad, I’ll eat the salad.”
“Everyone will pick at it…”
Soju arrives first. All of us are handed small glasses with a large block of ice in the middle, and the Soju is poured on top of the ice cube. It is gone in a matter of minutes.
Food arrives staggered as we all grab at it with our forks, chopsticks, fingers, and whatever utensil we can find on the table.
“Who has seen Hunger Games?”
“I’m seeing it on Friday.”
“Did you read the book?”
“She definitely didn’t read it, she only saw the movie.” (she only saw the movie)
“I’m reading it now…”
“Who watches Shahs of Sunset?” This show is so bad it’s good, and I have verbal diarrhea going on and on about Resa (if you don’t know who that is, that’s just too bad for you)….Mob wives comes next…and then like any girl with a pulse, Fifty Shades of Grey comes up.
“It’s crazy.”
“I want to read it.”
“it’s on my kindle.”
“Is it a fetish? Like a baby?”
“Like the Nip/Tuck episode?”
“No, like S&M.”
So I guess this is my next book, I need to be able to keep up with the conversation, and I have to tell you it was difficult. Diagonal conversations, across the table conversation, adjacent conversation, my head was spinning. “What are you guys talking about over there?”
The fried chicken arrives. Each plate is half soy garlic and half hot & spicy. “Why didn’t they just put each on a different plate? That’s so dumb.” Whatevs lets eat. As it turns out, the waiter was not messing around, it was really spicy. You can’t tell the difference between each flavor chicken until you take a bite of it, so all hell broke loose.
We suddenly turn into rabid animals sniffing the chicken, biting the chicken, then putting it back. It was a scene. When it was all said and done, I have to say it was really good. Although everyone went nuts from the spicy, I would make the argument that the soy garlic might have been too sweet without the spicy chicken paired with it.
I sneak off to the bathroom, and request a candle and dessert for our birthday girl. Frozen yogurt! Yes! Tastes just like Pinkberry. As we’re winding down I see Miss Wednesday sucking the gigantic ice cube into her mouth, rolling it around, and then spitting it back into her glass…it’s time to go home.
Mono + Mono (grapefruit flavored Soju)
It’s alcohol. It’s fine with me.
Mono + Mono (mango salad)
A little creamy, but we each had a a bites, so great for a few bites, but definitely get it to share, not for yourself.
Mono + Mono (fries)
These were actually unreal! I “love potatoes” too. We ordered a second round of these. It came with 3 dipping sauces. One is a spicy mayo, which my friend almost spit out after already eating the spicy chicken (still funny).
Mono + Mono (spider roll)
Look at this monster! The pickiest eater of our friends decided it looked too good to not try, and surprise, she liked it! It’s deep fried and covered in sauce…puh-lease.
Mono + Mono (Ninja roll)
Looks cray right? We each got a roll or two depending on who didn’t want this particular dish. I definitely would get them to share, because they’re good for a taste, but not a whole meal.
Mono * Mono (fried chicken)
Here it is! Can you tell which one is spicy, and which one is sweet? I don’t care I’d eat them again just to watch everyone freak out.
Yuca Bar [Click the photo above to go to Yuca Bar’s website]
111 Avenue A (corner of 7th Street), New York NY 10009
Thirsty Thursday + March Madness = great time to go out.
After much anticipation, I finally made it to Yuca Bar! Yay! Wisconsin and Syracuse game was also on (I’m a Wisconsin alumni, and the rest of my family is Syracuse alumni, smack talking was wild all day) so it was hard for me to choose: yummy dinner or supportive alumni. I went with yummy dinner (I have a food blog! Sports are never going to win unless I’m dying to see some guy that’s watching the game), and decided to bother my friend for constant updates via texts.
We opted to walk there (nice out, and burn some cals before a not so skinny meal) so armed with a Wisco t-shirt (Look! I’m hardcore!) and sunglasses, I grabbed an iced coffee, and strolled to meet my friend further downtown closer to the restaurant.
As soon as I meet up with her, she points to my coffee, and makes this gesture with her hands that look like she’s suffocating a wildebeest: “Supress!” she screams.
“If I didn’t get this iced coffee I would have made us stop and eat at the closest restaurant.” And I wanted to make it to Yuca Bar.
The walk entailed a few screaming outbursts and a debate if we were on the right side of the street (I think it’s there. I think you’re wrong…I was wrong)
It is over 70 degrees and my jeans are sticking to my body.
I point to my pants, and scream, “Glued!”
“Sopping!”
We suddenly realize there are people next to us listening to us talk about how sweaty we are, and start laughing and keep screaming, “Gross! Disgusting!”
I then see a big black Labrador sitting outside the restaurant and I go to pet it.
My friend goes “ew don’t do that.”
My hand is 4 inches from the dog’s face, and I pause, “no? This is a bad idea?”
“I mean to each their own”
I pet the dog and go, “I’ll just wash my hands.”
We walk into the restaurant.
“2 please, can we sit outside?”
The host points to my iced coffee, and I look for a place to throw it out, and instead just put it on the hostess stand (whatever).
“Nothing is available.”
I look outside and I see a bunch of tables. “But there are seats right there?”
“Oh for dinner!” then seats us (are you confused, because I was!)
We sit down and the waitress tells us about their drink specials ($5!!). She described one as “alcohol mixed with alcohol.”
“2 please!”
“What should we order?”
“I think I’ve been looking at the wrong menu all day.”
The waitress walks over and we order guacamole to start (who needs to look at a menu to order that? Puh-lease!)
We order the arepa con carne, fish tacos (pescado…see I can do Spanish), and plantains stuffed with pork.
“So we’ll get meat, fish, and pork.”
“We’re so easy!” (are we??)
“I kind of want rice and beans.”
“So we can get them, we’ll just need a second table to fit all the food.”
The waitress comes over to take our orders, and at the last minute my friend goes, “are the rice and beans big?”
“No, they’re small.”
“And that too!”
Everything was yummy! My favorite dish was the arepa, because it was sweet and it soaked up all the flavors from the meat. We had to move plates around to put it closer to me.
“Everything is so good!”
“I know it’s really good.”
“Your voice went up at the end. You don’t think it’s that good.”
“I do, I think it’s really good! It went up again didn’t it?”
“It did.”
“I don’t know that’s weird.”
The meal went off without a hitch except that not one, not two, but THREE homeless men stopped to ask us for change. Do my friend and I attract that sort of attention? This is our new dating pool??
The owner politely scurried them away from us as we awkwardly cringed and tried to pretend they were not there. He was really nice and apologized, explaining that because the restaurant is near a park there are a lot of homeless people in the area (so we’re not causing this? Phew!).
“She has a food blog!” my friend screams in the owner’s face.
“Oh, wow, you do?” We got a free round of drinks! I couldn’t believe it!
Strong drinks, good food, friendly wait staff, I was in heaven with exception to the threatening texts I received from my family through out the whole meal about the basketball game: Booyah! You’re going down! Fool’s Gold (I was confused by that one)!
I was a little drunk and I told my dad to suck it after Wisconsin lost. That is not appropriate, and I don’t recommend texting that to a parent.
On that note, I will be returning to Yuca Bar just not when a basketball game is on.
Yuca Bar (happy hour special drink)
It was mixed with real acai berries, which are supposed to be super healthy! I don’t know if this drink was healthy, but it was strong and good!
Yuca Bar (salsa and guacamole)
Basic but always good. So easy to fill up on this!
Yuca Bar (tacos de pescado)
Deep fried what up! I love crunchy cole slaw with fried fish. It was good, but the fish need a little somethin somethin so I dipped it in the guac.
Yuca Bar (arepa con carne)
Here is my favorite dish! Isn’t it just so pretty? It was difficult to cut in half, and it didn’t look so cute afterwards, but I did not care one bit!
Yuca Bar (platano relleno)
I have a soft spot for plantains, I have no idea why. Some people don’t like pork, but it’s a juicier meat, and the whole dish was delic!
GirlyFoodie 