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!
Lattanzi [Click the photo above to go to Lattanzi’s website]
361 West 46th Street (between 8th and 9th avenue) New York, NY 10036
The best thing about going to a Broadway show is the dinner before the show, at least in my book.
I’m not a theatre girl, never have been, never will be. I hate fighting over the arm rest with strangers (or my sister), I hate the line for the bathroom at intermission, I hate the slow sad songs, and over animated theatre people weird me out. So, I was not excited to sit in an itchy chair and see “Once” to say the least. (I I know it won a million Tony’s, but they don’t even do a Fashion Police segment on it so please, it’s not a real show) I went because my mom wanted a girls’ night with my sister and me.
I spent my Friday nursing a hangover, and trying to pump myself up for this show. I shoveled in a bacon egg and cheese, and listened to Bernadette Peters sing “Broadway Baby” on YouTube (yes, this is really how I spent my Friday at work).
Dinner was at Lattanzi on Restaurant Row (Italian restaurant with a Jewish twist).
Lets be real, there was no way I was taking any form of public transportation with a day-long hangover, so I hopped in a cab and let it be my nap time.
I got there rather quickly considering I had to get across town at 6pm on a Friday.
“Left or right side?” The cab driver asked.
“Um, whatever side is good.” (I had no idea where I was going)
I find the restaurant after a few wrong turns (I’m an idiot), and my mom and sister arrive shortly after.
The bread basket is placed in front us, and I could not have dug in faster.
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
Do I drink to help the hangover, or do I get something caffeinated so I wake up? ALCOHOL.
“Can I see your wine list?”
The waiter hands me the wine list, and I realize I know nothing about wine.
Without even opening up the menu I just ask, “What’s your lightest red wine by the glass?”
I don’t even hear his reply, “I’ll have that.”
My sister gets wine, and my mom gets a club soda (boo).
I see the menu has an artichoke appetizer, “Jewish style.” I had no idea there was Jewish way to cook artichokes, but my mom thinks it’s just the funniest, and orders them. I get a house salad, because I’m about to choke down black pasta with seafood as my main, so better to save my appetite.
My sister gets a caprese salad, and rolled pasta. My mom wants the same dish as me, but she’s allergic to tomatoes (every meal she tells the waiter, “I’m HIGHLY allergic to tomatoes.” She breaks out in hives. It’s annoying, but sometimes really funny to watch her freak out).
Since the black pasta comes with tomato sauce, it makes sense for her to order something else, so she begrudgingly orders the veal. I weirdly do not have one of those moms that tells me to order the fish.
“I miss tomatoes.” (she acquired the allergy with age)
“We know mom!”
Appetizers come, and we quickly distribute little bites to each other of our dishes.
“What’s this play about anyway.”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t know.”
I whip out my phone and look up a brief description of the play.
“The mozzarella cheese is melted. Yes!”
“Can we get pepper please?”
My house salad was just lettuce, but I ate it like my life depended on it. The mains arrive super fast.
“They must be used to having people run to the theatre afterwards,” says my mom.
“Makes sense.”
“Well, we have a lot of time, so let’s eat slowly,” (good one).
My spaghetti was sort of simple, but my mom’s veal was stuffed with cheese, and that was a great surprise. My sister had pasta with ricotta cheese and tomato sauce, so there was no way she wasn’t finishing that.
“I don’t even care. I drank last night, and my diet restarts tomorrow,” I announce.
Our plates are cleared, “do you want the dessert menu?”
DUH.
“Can I get a cappuccino with skim milk?” My sister asks. Yep, the skim milk will totally save you from what you just ate.
“We only have whole milk.”
“Ok, I’ll still get it.” (you can’t deter us)
Napoleon ordered as well.
I then forklift myself up and trek to the theatre. When we arrive, the cast is singing on stage while people are being seated.
“Theatre people are so weird.”
“I know.”
Lattanzi (Mozzarella E Pomodoro: homemade mozzarella and fresh tomato with extra virgin olive oil and basil)
Surprise surprise, they melted the cheese a bit! The tomatoes were plump and not too mushy, too bad my mom couldn’t have any of it.
Lattanzi (arciofi Alia Giudia our signature dish of artichokes cooked jewish style; sauteed with garlic and olive oil)
If you like artichokes it’s a great app. Enough said.
Lattanazi (Insalata Mista mixed greens with endive and radicchio in a house vinaigrette dressing)
Your basic house salad. I ate it to hold me over so I wouldn’t keep eating the bread basket.
Lattanzi (veal stuffed with cheese and a side of roasted vegetables)
This was a special so I don’t have the fancy pants title of this dish. However, I really liked it. Maybe it’s because I try to not eat red meat, so when I do it’s super exciting, but it was a solid dish.
Lattanzi (black spaghetti in a spicy tomato sauce with seafood)
I would have liked a little more heat to the dish, but if you have a sensitive palette this is a good dish to order.
Lattanzi (Rotolo Di Spinaci E Ricotta: homemade rolled pasta filled with ricotta cheese and spinach topped with tomato sauce)
If you’re going to splurge on a serious pasta dish, this is a good one to do it with. I’d say the portion is equivalent to two giantic pasta shells.
Lattanzi (napoleon)
So.good. I’m a sucker for napoleons, so it was a great way to end the meal.
I just want to apologize to my “many” followers aka my cousins and like 2 friends who read this for not posting that much lately. I’ve been trying to shrink my hips and butt for summer, and that means no eating out for extravagant 3 course meals. Weird, I know.
Instead of posting my incredibly entertaining stories, I have been posting links to food articles I like. As my cousin so nicely pointed out, “I can just look these articles up myself,” I am still posting another link.
I like to think of myself as your personal food filter for note worthy articles. (She also politely told me that I need to check out a map since I rarely take the subway or bus…deal with it)
So I promise to fatten up soon and go out to dinner, in the meanwhile [Click the photo above to read, What’s on Your NYC Bucket List?]
Kin Shop [Click the photo above to go to Kinshop’s website]
469 6th Avenue (between 11th and 12th Street) New York, NY 10011
It was my birthday this past weekend, and I managed to squeeze 5 meals out of it (I know what was I thinking?). I decided to not blog my meals so I could be “present” (I don’t know), but by meal # 5 I figured it was time to get back into it.
My last and final birthday meal was at Kinshop with my two girl friends who…like to eat (I am never allowed to tag them in these posts, because I write things like that).
I was just a fatty all day, and wanted to stay healthy for dinner, which I mean, we all know was pretty unlikely. My friends had also had “fat days” (I ate this at 11, then this, then this, then is…is that bad? Are we Judy from SNL?), so we were all thrilled that we were on the same page for dinner.
“Wait, you want to be healthy too?”
(I feel like we were happy, but also disappointed that there was no one to push us to get noodles)
“Your lipgloss looks great! Did you wear it for us?”
(Did I? I flash back to me putting it on, did I do it for them?? I don’t know maybe)
“Yeah.”
Back to serious business: this menu. My friend kept going, “it’s light. It’s light Thai food.”
Reading the menu I was not exactly feeling it was light when everything came w something fried or meaty.
I only participated in the vegetable input. I felt overwhelmed.
The waiter comes over to take our order, and we begin.
“Whats the fluke like?”
“It’s sort of like sushi.”
“Ok, we’ll get that.”
“The shrimp.”
“How many for each of you?”
“How many do you recommend?”
“I’d say two each.” We should have gotten 3 each, healthy my ass.
Fluke down, shrimp down, bibb salad ordered, and stir fry vegetables with water chestnuts also added to the mix. What do we get next? This clearly is not enough.
My friend decides to include our waiter in our brainstorming, “We’re all sort of on a diet, so what do you recommend.”
He starts pointing towards the noodle section, and it was like in one ear, out the other.
We opt to order 2 soups to share between the 3 of us: tomato soup, and meatball soup.
As the waiter leaves, I notice he’s sort of cute (is he gay? Probably, I tend to like gay men for some reason, I’ll just keep this to myself)
“It’s going to be so awkward when the waiter sees us attacking our food after we told him we’re dieting.” Woops.
“What’s going on with your friend and that guy?”
“It’s over.”
“As soon as they became exclusive?”
“Yep, she let her freak flag fly way too soon after getting the exclusive title.”
“Big mistake.”
“Totally, you need to wait until you know they love you before they know how nuts we are.” True that.
Fluke comes! It is served on these funky leaves that I proclaimed were “fuzzy,” and my other friend identified as “cilantro like.” It had nice flavor, but we all agreed they need to make it more lettuce wrap like.
“It needs a different leaf.”
Bibb salad is placed in front of us. Bibb lettuce is fun, because the leaves are huge and buttery, but it’s sort of hard to serve and eat. It was really yummy though, and I loved that it was served with plums and pumpkin seeds. Great combo.
“Is that a gel manicure?”
“Yes, do I need to get it redone?”
“No, it looks great. It doesn’t look like you got it yesterday, but it looks good!”
“Okay good, I don’t want to get it done again.”
“I don’t like mine.”
My other friend throws her hands in front of us and goes “Look at mine!”
She got a new greyish purple (I feel like she’s going to read this and tell me that was not the color so sorry in advance!) and she was wiggling her fingers in the hopes to get some attention on them.
Shrimp arrives. Spicy with a peanut-ish sauce on the side. I use the word ish, because if it’s not what it really is than I feel bad. It was delic, but my friend sucked the head off one and told us it was great, and my head was empty, so that was disappointing. We only ordered 6, and they only had 5 left! For G-d’s sake I wanted every bite to count.
Soup comes, I tried to avoid the meatballs (Skinny Bitch remember), and failed per usual, I’d like to say it was worth it. Tomato soup was thicker than I thought it was going to be. Good, but I thought it would be on the healthier side.
As we’re finishing up, all of our phones are on the table, and I can see one friend texting the other, I’m like “OH MY GD THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT ME.” They were, but only because they wanted to get me a candle 🙂 Sweet right?
By the end of the meal I had drank a lot of water (food was spicy!), and had to use the restroom, which was of course downstairs (stop it NY with that), and as I was strutting up the steps to get back to my table I see the waiter at the top of the staircase, and I trip. Yes, I tripped.
“Happy birthday!” he says.
“Thanks.” Definitely gay.
Kin Shop (bibb salad: plum, toasted sunflower seeds & pickled mustard seed vinagrette)
I weirdly love seeds, and mustard seeds are very strong in flavor, and plums are sweet, so I was into this.
Kin Shop (miang of fluke: lycheese, shiso leaves, chili jam & fried garlic)
Pretty right? Nice little bites, but fuzzy, so a little weird.
Kin Shop (stir fry of aquatic vegetables: water spinach, water chestnuts & watercress)
I actually forgot to take a picture of this, because I ate it VERY fast. So, don’t hate, I stole this pic. I would say this dish tasted most like classic Chinese food in a brown sauce: that’s the only way I can think of to describe it.
Kin Shop (house speciality: grilled prawns with fresh lime & phuket style” black pepper sauce.
I want to label this as clean flavors. My friend got a really spicy bite though and sorta freaked out.
Kin Shop (steamed pork meatball soup: crispy garlic, bok chyshoots & black soy sauce)
I was apprehensive about this, because I thought it would be too salty, but it wasn’t! You can also see the steam of how hot it came out. It was one of the only dishes we ordered that wasn’t spicy, so it complimented everything well.
Kin Shop (garam Masala & tomato soup: tofu, mung beans & holy basil)
You can see how creamy it is from the picture, but it taste solid, and it has a little kick.
The Kardashians just had a little din at one of my favorite restaurants, Valbella’s, and they better back off my spot! It’s mine, you guys take everything else! (Fine Kim, I like your shoes)
[Click the photo above to go to Valbella’s website]
Kuma Inn [Click the photo above to go to Kuma Inn’s website]
113 Ludlow Street(between Delancey and Rivington) New York, NY 10002
Friday night dinna. What to do? What to do? My money is slipping quietly through my fingers as I pretend I don’t notice, but a girl’s gotta eat, so where do we go? Kuma Inn. Asian tapas and BYOB (cash only p.s they don’t serve alcohol there so don’t hold back, because what you bring is all you have).
The restaurant opens at 6 which means I have to wait all day to make the phone call to secure reservations (not on OpenTable what the eff), and when I call I ask for an 8:45 reservation.
The lady on the phone goes, “8:35?”
“No, 8:45.”
“I was going to say that’s specific.” How about you shut your mouth and schedule my reservation? I haven’t stepped foot in the restaurant yet, and they’re already chastising me.
Reservation was made at 9, but I told my friends 8:45. Girls are always late.
Obviously we extended the invite to everyone, but they’re girls so two of them didn’t confirm they were coming until like 6 o’clock on Friday.
I call the restaurant to ask if we could extend the reservation by 2 people, and this little butthead tells me he can’t extend it, there’s no room, but we can still show up, but there will be an approximate 2 hour wait. I say to just keep it at 3, and be done. I’ll deal with it when I get there.
As it turns out only 1 of them is coming so it’s just 4 of us. I call my friend and tell her what the host said. She is reassuring and says, “there are 3 of us so they’re going to seat us at a table for 4, it will be fine.”
You would think…
Kuma Inn is not just a regular ol’ restaurant. Oh, no. It’s in the LES so it’s sorta grimy (part of the lovely LES appeal) and up a huge flight of steps (don’t fear the bathroom is on the same floor ladies). My friend had on backless wedges and feared for her life while walking up to our dinner/her death. Did I mention we’re all carrying alcohol?
When we arrive we are greeted by a blonde version of Mitchell from Modern Family. He dismisses us quickly and we are shuttled to our seats, which is a table for 2 with 3 plate settings. UM, ok.
“Excuse me, there’s actually going to be one more of us.”
The waitress looks nervous and jittery, “talk to the front.”
I walk up to blonde Mitchell, and go, “Hi, our table is for 2 people, and there are 4 of us. Could we get an extra table?”
“No.”
“No?”
He shrugs. “That’s it. Unless you want to wait 2 ½ hours.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Now we’re both just standing there.
Thanks a*s hole. I walk back to my seat, and ask the lady (the nicer of the 2) for an extra chair. So now the three of us are sitting, while my friend awkwardly stands there, waiting for a chair to be brought over, while she holds two 6 packs of beer.
Guess what? There are no more chairs to be had in this restaurant, so they bring over a stool. Yes, a stool.
So now we look at the table, and there are no room for plates on the table with all the glasses for the sake, the beer, and the water. Time to consolidate. We put the water in the wine glasses, and the beer in the water glasses, and for some reason the sake glasses are gigantic. Tiny restaurant, tiny table, HUGE sake glasses, ok.
Guess what? I’m gonna get drunk.
I ask the waitress to just bring one dish out at a time, because we only have room for that at our table.
We order: edamame, chicken wings, vegetable dumplings, the Chinese sausage (upon recommendation),two orders of pork buns, and spicy shrimp.
Edamame comes, and it’s flavored with lime and some other spice. REALLY GOOD. It better be.
“They charge you a $1 per beer so hide the beer.”
“Where?” Our table is the size of a computer screen.
We keep the beers under the table, and use the same bag that holds the fresh beers as a garbage for the old ones.
Chicken wings come. They’re yummy and really juicy. However the menu says “chicken wings,” and I’m pretty sure they were thighs.
“You don’t like chicken right?”
“I don’t like meat off of the bone. It weirds me out.” Hmm, I see your point. Whatever, more for me.
Spicy shrimp is ok. Chinese sausage is surprise! Boneless spare ribs. Delic!
“Can we have the 2nd bottle of sake please? Thx!”
Pork buns, I mean, c’mon, they’re pork buns. It’s good, and actually larger than others I have seen.
I peer over our tiny table and notice my friend’s nails are polish-less and bitten up. “Ew gross, you need to get a manicure.”
A minute later I receive a text message, “f*ck your face.”
Well played.
Bill is only $25 per person (fine Kuma Inn, your food is good and cheap, but your manager is a dill hole). I did buy a bottle of sake though…
We pay, and begin our descent. As I make it to the bottom of the stairwell, I hear “hey! Wait for me! I have to take my heels off!”
Kuma Inn (sake)
Look at these sake glasses! How do you expect to sake bomb with this!
Kuma Inn (edamame)
I don’t even love edamame, but this was great!
Kuma Inn (chicken wings)
Pretty good, as you can see I forgot to take a picture at first, so that’s all that was left by the time I remembered.
Kuma Inn (spicy shrimp)
It was ok. Cute pic though.
Kuma Inn (vegetable dumplings)
They were really plump for vegetable dumplings! Usually they give you these wimpy servings so props to Kuma Inn for that one!
Kuma Inn (pork buns)
1 order is 2 pork buns, so 1 for each of us. Yum!
Kutsher’s [Click the photo above to go to Kutsher’s website]
186 Franklin Street, New York, NY 10013
My pops offered to take me out to din and I obliged. I usually pick a spot in my neighborhood, but it’s the Tribeca Film Festival baby, lets pretend we’re celebrities and hang in TriBeCa instead, duh!
Made a rezie at Kutshers at 7:30 on Thirsty Thursday. My dad was pickin’ me up so I had no fears of catching a cab or finding my way downtown…I have NO sense of direction.
He told me he would get me at 7, but that old man was early for the first time eva, and I had to run around like a chicken without a head, trying to find pants with some give in them. I found a pair of wide-leg jeans, and hopped in the elevator.
We were zipping along downtown, as I told my dad my thoughts on dieting, what I try not to eat, what I want to eat, what I can’t eat, where I should work out (“I just need to eat in moderation, that’s all,” said the food blogger).
“Or you could just get mono again and lose the weight,” my dad says as he navigates away from a cab.
…thanks Dad.
Everything was going fine and dandy until we hit Broome Street. GRID LOCK TRAFFIC. Nowhere to go. It was torture. All my great conversation pieces were being used up in the frontseat of the car.
“I’m starving!” my dad screams in the car (So that’s who I get it from).
Fortunately for us, there was a hotdog stand right outside our car. My dad pulls down his window, “Hey! Let me get a hotdog with sauerkraut and mustard.”
I had been preaching to him for the past 20 minutes the problems with our meat industry, because I am currently reading Skinny Bitch in the hopes I’ll become anorexic and not care about food, so I held back from ordering my very own hotdog (I had a bite).
“How ya gonna give up meat? It’s just too good,” my dad says as he takes down the hotdog.
We finally arrive at Kutshers, and we are seated at the modern Jewish eatery. What to get, what to get…
“Check out these cocktails!” My dad hits the menu to show me where to look. (he’s a big tapper when he talks… “you see the thing is…” tap tap tap)
If you went to Jew camp as my Dad and I did, you could appreciate a few: Bug Juice, Route 17, Café Canteen, The Anawana…you get the idea.
Ok, screw the drinks. I don’t need to waste my calories, what are we ordering??
We stare at the pair eating next to us, two guys with meat dishes (that sounds weird, sorry I thought it, you thought it, done). I peak over and immediately declare it’s the flanken short ribs. No doubt in my mind.
Appetizers….
“We gotta get the meatballs,” my dad says as his pointer underlines the description on the menu.
“Ok, Dad fine, but I want the potato latkes.”
The waiter suggest the charcuterie, but my dad is like hell to the no. I just kept saying, “I did hear they’re known for their char-coot-er-ie.”
We also got crispy artichokes, because why not?
Mains? Should we share? I’m pretending to be a vegetarian (remember when we ordered meatballs?), so I got the kreplach, which is pretty much ravioli, whoops, and OF COURSE my dad went for the short ribs: we’ll share. Oh, and brussels sprouts, we love brussel sprouts.
“You ever been on JDate,” my dad starts.
“No, Dad.”
“You know a lot of people on it?”
“I know people that are on it, and people that are not on it.”
“You dating anyone?” (hint hint hint hint)
Apps are yum, yeah I ate the meatballs, and they were good, so what.ev.er. The latkes were good, but not as good as my mom’s (are you reading this Mom?).
I’m starting to crack under this pressure. I need to contract mono and go on Jdate. Noted. Suddenly it’s just too much for me to bear…”It’s just so hard! I really didn’t picture myself at 25 (not 25 yet, a week away) at this job, in this apartment!”
“You just want a boyfriend.” THANKS DAD!
The waiter must have felt the pressure as well, because when he went to pick up the pitcher of water it slipped out of his hands and spilled everywhere. The kreplach was yummy with mushrooms and nuts. My dad put a small chunk of meat on my plate, as I ate the mashed potatoes directly off his plate.
“What’s your sister been up to? Who did she take to formal?”
“Show me a picture.”
“His hair was gel’d, it looks gray on Facebook.”
“Let me see.”
Dessert time. I wanted to get the ice cream sandwich, but the waiter steered us towards the chocolate cake…it was ok.
“Being sick sucks!” my dad exclaims to me. He just had strep throat, and if you spoke to him you’d think he was on his deathbed.
“You’re just being a guy.”
“I lost 5lbs from just eating soup and tea.” Ok, maybe you’re not being a guy.
We finish eating our 8 course meal…”how many people do you think are Jewish in here?” A good amount.
As he drives me back to my apt, he makes a wrong turn, and we end up going on a bridge to Brooklyn… “well, I don’t know the last time you were on the Manhattan Bridge, but you’re on it now,” he says. I see where my sense of direction comes from.
Kutsher’s (bread)
The bread was challah, and it was good! I’m down with this theme.
Kutsher’s (Milton short ribs and brisket meatballs)
Really yummy. It’s like a mini Jewish holiday meal.
Kutsher’s (potato latkes)
Solid. They don’t taste like my mama’s, but I’m still happy we got them.
Kutsher’s (pan roasted brussels sprouts)
We ordered too much, and didn’t really touch them, so leftova for me!
Kutsher’s (red wine braised flanken style short ribs)
Short ribs, mashed potatoes. It’s meat and potatoes. It’s what you think it is. It’s good and unhealthy.
Kutsher’s (wild mushroom and fresh ricotta kreplach)
So I ordered pasta, judge me. fine! Skinny bitch said it’s ok, sorta. I didn’t finish it, and I am sticking to it. 2 pieces of kreplach aren’t going straight to my ass (who am I trying to convince?)
Kutsher’s (seven layer’s devil food cake)
Cake was ok, I declared that they need a chocolate meltaway on the menu…you’re welcome for that suggestion.
CaliU [Click the photo above to go to CaliU’s website]
557 Hudson Street (between 11th & Perry Street) New York, NY 10014
CaliU (bacon wrapped dates)
I could eat a million of these!
CaliU (butternut squash fritters)
Super sweet, but good. I swear it was almost dessert like.
CaliU (albondigas)
Spanish meatballs, fresh tomato sauce, pickled squash. The pickled squash was the only unique part of this dish, besides that, it’s your basically meatball. The sauce it was mixed with was delicious!!!
Boqueria [Click the photo above to go to Boqueria’s website]
53 west 19th street (between 5th and 6th Ave) New York, NY 10011
After fully gorging myself from a holiday weekend, I decided to continue this path of destruction by going out to dinner with two friends.
I had just seen American Reunion (it’s what you would expect), and we decided to keep the momentum going by walking to a place nearby for an early dinner. Only two of us went to the movies, so the other one met us at the restaurant. In the interim we decided to grab a drink. While drinking, we decided it would be a great idea to get another drink at dinner. What planning!
We’re idiots and decided to eat “light” by going to Boqueria for tapas (light, I’m sure). We were trying to keep kosher for Passover, so NO bread! How bad could we possibly eat?
The two of us walk into the restaurant, and it’s pretty empty. I would say it’s a surprise, but most people don’t eat dinner at 6pm on a Sunday (or ever).
“3 please.”
The hostess looks around the restaurant like it’s packed to the gills and responds, “Sure, just let me know when your other person is here.”
Yes, because people are climbing over each other to get a seat. Let’s definitely make us wait in the front. Our friend arrives with ballet flats on and announces her foot keeps cramping up, “I hate when that happens.”
The hostess then seats us at a communal table. There are 3 of us, and no one is in the restaurant. Lets seat us at our own table. I know you don’t know us, but you don’t want us near the other guests.
As soon we sit down, my friend goes, “I want the spinach. I want the mackerel. I definitely want the steak. We need to get steak.”
“Ok.”
“Ok.”
It’s tapas so the menu isn’t that extensive, but we are really diving in.
“I want the patatas bravas. If you guys don’t want them, I still have to have them.” Wow, easy killer. Who said we couldn’t get them (they fit the Passover bill)? I picture her with this plate in front of her never coming up for air.
“I love those. Definitely!” I say.
Then little Miss Spinach goes, “There are four things, we definitely need to get. The rest I don’t care.” FOUR THINGS?? Most people put in a two dish request, she puts in for four, and they’re all mandatory.
They were: the spinach, the hanger steak, the shrimp, and the lamb meatballs.
I wasn’t opposed to any of this, so those were put on our definite lists.
I threw out the bacon wrapped dates. Bacon is kosher for Passover!
Miss Patatas Bravas overlapped with Miss Spinach on the meatballs on her top 5 list, so we were good to go.
The waitress comes over, “Can I get you guys something to drink?”
Sangria! Ay ay ay ay!
This poor waitress. She was on the quiet side, and we’re just not on the quiet side.
Time to order. After feeling like we had gone overboard I ask the waitress, “is this too much?”
She shockingly comes back with, “I would get one more if I were you.” Ok, wow! We decide we can just order another dish as we move along, to see how hungry we are.
We all dive into to each dish as they are served somewhat staggered. Stuffed dates first, amazing, but there are only three. Biotch please.
Then spinach and potatoes.
“My type is Michael Cera.”
“Really? I don’t know one person you have dated or hooked up with that remotely resembles Michael Cera.”
“Yeah, like cool but a little dorky, but not dorky and kinda cool.”
I continue attacking the patatas bravas.
“No one else is eating this.”
“Are you kidding? I am too!”
Then comes meatballs and hanger steak. Both great!
“What is that with the steak?”
“I think it’s squash.”
“Squash.”
“I like squash.”
…
“Which movie did you like better, 21 Jump Street or American Reunion?”
“I haven’t seen 21 Jump Street yet.”
“It’s hysterical!”
Check magically appears and we realize we never ordered a sixth dish. UH OH.
“Let’s get Tasti.”
“Great idea.”
Boqueria (red sangria)
Great! Picked some of the fruit out and nibbled on it…in public.
Boqueria (datiles con beicon)
Dates stuffed with almonds and Valdeon, wrapped in bacon.
It was a blessing and a curse that there were only 3 of these. I could have eaten ten more!
Boqueria (espinacas a la Catalana)
Sauteed spinach, garbanzos, pine nuts, garlic, raisins.
Just because it’s green doesn’t mean it’s great for you. Smothered in oil, it was yummy and sweet, but who cares? I kept Passover.
Boqueria (patatas bravas)
Crispy potatoes, salsa grava, roasted garlic allioli
Crispy potatoes with a garlic sauce on top and a red sauce at the bottom to shmush (that is a big girl word) the potatoes in at the bottom? It’s never a bad idea.
Boqueria (gambas al ajillo)
Shrimp, garlic and Guindilla pepper in olive oil.
It tasted like it was doused in butter and oil. Not to say that is bad, but don’t think you’re being healthy by ordering shrimp. Lies! All lies!
Boqueria (albondigas)
Lamb meatballs, tomato sauce, sheep’s milk cheese.
I don’t know if I’m one to judge what is deemed light, and what is deemed heavy, but I’d venture to say that for meatballs, it tasted light, and didn’t make you feel weighed down afterwards.
GirlyFoodie 