We had intended on ordering a desert pie, essentially their pizza dough, fried and topped with nutella, almonds, and powdered sugar, but we didn't have room. Seriously though, how bad could that be? Forcella is BYOB too, so feel free to bring some wine to complement your pizza.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Forcella - Pizza Wars: The (Roman) Empire Strikes Back
We had intended on ordering a desert pie, essentially their pizza dough, fried and topped with nutella, almonds, and powdered sugar, but we didn't have room. Seriously though, how bad could that be? Forcella is BYOB too, so feel free to bring some wine to complement your pizza.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Egg: Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Candied Bacon
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Lake Pavilion - Brooklyn Goes to Queens
Past the threshold of the hell-quarium, and into the main dining hall, is yet another strange scene. The place is huge, and not just for NYC. Its a massive banquet hall littered with giant ten-seater circular tables decorated for a bat-mitzvah in 1988. Purple fabric covers the high-backed chairs, fastened with pink ribbons. Pseudo-silk gold napkins adorn the place settings. But no bat-mitzvah girl could be found, no DJ Lonny, or children playing coke-and-pepsi. In fact, my two dining compatriots and I were among the only white people in the place. But if its authentic Chinese that I want, I'm taking the overwhelming Asian crowd as a a sign I was in for something great. (Yes, I'm aware there are plenty of Asian Jews, so relax.)
Next came the Dungeoness Crab with Glutenous Rice. The crab appeared to be fried, and the meat inside was tender and sweet. But between the fatty duck and fried crab, our hands were slick and our brains starting to congeal with the beginnings of Stage 1 Food Coma. The Rice was certainly glutinous – sort of a al dente fried rice that was a great sidekick to the crab. It reminded me of the Salt Cod Fried Rice at Danny Bowien's Mission Chinese.
The fried milk pieces were actually delicious. They were like the best zeppoles or beignets you've ever tasted (outside of the Jersey Shore and New Orleans respectfully, of course) filled with a sweet cream. They were fantastic, but so sweet. One or two of them was overwhelming, and they gave us about 95. Combined with the sweet and tangy mayonnaise shrimp and the candied walnuts, this dish was simply too much sweetness for my tastebuds to handle.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Pies N' Thighs Chicken Biscuit
As I perused the various vendors, looking for something to call out to me, I found myself drawn by Pies N’ Thighs – the Williamsburg down-home country kitchen joint. A small sign read “chicken biscuit”, which didn’t really tell me anything more than it was a fried chicken cutlet on a biscuit, not that there’s anything wrong with that. I asked the chef what came on the chicken biscuit besides a piece of chicken, and she responded quickly with two of the best condiments I could think of, honey butter and hot sauce. Without any hesitation and a big stupid grin, I replied, “I’ll have one”. I brought it back to my little table in the shadow of the Flatiron Building to my friends, who looked at my chicken biscuit and I with furious envy. By the time I was ready to go, the pat of honey butter had melted perfectly over the biscuit and the chicken cutlet, blending with the tangy hot sauce to make a perfect buffalo style sauce. I’m almost certain they were using Frank’s Red Hot, but I could be mistaken. The sweetness of the honey buttered biscuit, the saltiness of the chicken, and the heat from the hot sauce combined to make one of the best sandwiches I’ve ever eaten. If you like buffalo chicken sandwiches, this is for you. But unlike most buffalo chicken sandwiches, which are usually buried between some hefty pieces of bread, the light airy biscuit provides a pillow-like resting place for the crispy fried chicken cutlet. If you are by Madison Sq. Park this month, go do yourself a favor and get a chicken biscuit from Pies N’ Thighs. You can also find them at their restaurant in Williamsburg. More from the Food Square coming! Stay hungry.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
FoodGasm New York's Superbowl Spectacular: Parkway Bakery of New Orleans
Hey folks, Jon here, with FoodGasm New York's SuperBowl Spectacular. When people approach me about taking the blog on the road, doing something out of the five boroughs, I usually remind people that FoodGasm has a strict policy of staying local. However, a friend of mine, and a fellow food fan, approached me about a NOLA special, just in time for the Saints to take on Eli Manning's older brother. Her constant adoration of New Orleans' food scene always leaves me salivating, so I gladly let her take the reins and represent FoodGasm on the bayou. Enjoy the review, and the stunning high res food porn. Without further ado, here is Alyssa's take on the Parkway Bakery.
Parkway Bakery of New Orleans
When one thinks of traditional New Orleans cuisine, there is gumbo, jambalaya, and of course the po’ boy. As a displaced Northeasterner, if I was asked to draw a parallel, the closest thing to a po’boy is a submarine sandwich. But don't you dare tell that to a New Orleanian with a straight face. The distinction is supposedly limited to the type of bread, but it is definitely much more than that, as I have never seen a fried catfish sub.
So the po’boy joint of choice? That would be Parkway Bakery and Tavern. Gambit Weekly’s Best of New Orleans 2009 voted Parkway Bakery the best place to get a Roast Beef po’boy, best place to get a Shrimp po’boy, and best place to get an Oyster po’boy (another type you don’t see at your local New York Sub Shop). So did this triple threat live up to the hype? I recruited a couple friends to find out.
Located in the area of New Orleans known as Midcity, the surrounding area is not exactly the place you want to get caught by yourself at night. In true New Orleans fashion, the house immediately to the right of Parkway Bakery is in the middle of a renovation, and is being lifted about 15 feet off the ground. The area did flood during Katrina, but sources say Parkway Bakery reopened just 90 days after the flood.
There are no waiters at Parkway Bakery, and the atmosphere is as casual as they come. People line up at a counter and pass menus along to the other people in line. The po’boys come in regular or large. If you intend to actually eat an entire large po’boy from Parkway, I strongly suggest not eating for about three days before. But if you did choose to eat, you can order a large anyway. The half you don’t eat will be an awesome dinner, or hungover lunch the next day.
We placed a pretty all-star order. One Roast Beef Po’Boy, One Fried Catfish Po’Boy, One Fried Shrimp Po’Boy, One Oyster Po’Boy, and the special: One BBQ Alligator Po’Boy. Then a side of Turkey and Alligator Sausage Gumbo and a large Sweet Potato Fries. I had a lot of help with eating all this, don’t worry.
When you place your order the person at the counter is going to say “dressed?” If you’re like me, your first time hearing this and your reaction is going to be to stare back blankly. But an insider tip: the answer is “yes, please.” Dressed means lettuce, tomato, mayo, and pickles. I, of course, wanted all of these, although you can place your order as you like.
Try and find a clean seat, and seat yourself. The tables are long, cafeteria style and don’t be afraid to sit at a table with people already at it. You aren’t in New York anymore, and people are all the more willing to add you to their table and talk about almost anything. Topic of choice this month? WHO DAT SAY DEY GONNA BEAT DEM SAINTS?
The food was an overall pleasure. There were certainly no displeased patrons. The all star goes to the fried catfish po’boy and the sweet potato fries. The roast beef was cooked to perfection and was some of the best roast beef I’ve ever had. It held up great, and the other half was a perfect next-day lunch.
Alligator for the most part is a similar texture and taste to chicken. I wish I could say I have something to compare it with, but in actuality, I haven’t eaten much alligator. It’s the same for the fried catfish, so I suppose I just liked the taste of catfish a bit more then alligator. They were both fantastic.
The fried shrimp po’boy was also near-perfect with the shrimp falling off the sandwich in delicious plump pieces to eat between bites.
The gumbo was also amazing. Gumbo is similar to a stew or a soup. It was spiced perfectly and the turkey and alligator sausage were plentiful and delicious. It was served with bread seasoned with garlic. Some people put the sausage and turkey on the bread and ate it as a sandwich; others dipped the bread into the gumbo and chose to eat it that way. There is certainly no wrong way.
On to the other A+, the sweet potato fries. The fries were perfect. There is no other way to describe them. They had a perfect crunch, and were much sweeter than your standard French fries.
When we were leaving, we stopped to take a picture of the Parkway Bakery and Tavern sign and restaurant. Clearly looking like tourists, an elderly gentleman asked us if we wanted to take a group picture. Then he engaged us in a conversation with a winning joke: “It’s so cold out today, lawyers are keeping their hands in their own pockets!” When we confessed to being law students, he said “hold on, I got another. There was a man, ya see, and he was arrested for bootlegging a while back. When the judge asked him his name, he said ‘Joshua, sir.’ The judge said ‘like in the bible, Joshua who made the sun stand still?’ And the man said ‘no sir, I’m the Joshua that made the moonshine still.’”
That’s New Orleans for you: friendly people, good food, and a bit of alcohol. WHO DAT?
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Caracas Arepa Bar
In 2008, I was moments from packing my things and jetting to Caracas, Venezuela. A close friend of mine, who is involved in the business of making films, was contemplating shooting a documentary about the social and political unrest that Hugo Chavez has brought to his homeland. I’ve always been enticed by Venezuela, and South America in general, so I figured this would be a great place to complete my collegiate thesis on political propaganda. The foodie in me was desperate to try the cuisine, mainly, an authentic arepa, which is a corn pocket of sorts filled with, well, whatever you want, mostly due to my friend’s undying passion for them. Then I realized that shooting an anti-Chavez expose on the exploitation of the Venezuelan people would probably result in an express kidnapping at best, and my swift imprisonment and eventual execution at worst. So I didn’t go. But I still desperately wanted an arepa.
In Venezuela, arepas are everywhere. My Venezuelan friend describes, "There are many different kinds of Arepas in Venezuela, as a matter of fact, there are different kinds of Arepas all over Latin America. What makes an Arepa so good? It’s simply love, and the fact that you can pretty much fill your Arepa up with anything, and eat it pretty much any time of day. For example, it is perfectly common to begin your day with an “Arepa de Jamon y Queso” (ham and cheese). At lunch you can go to the local “Arepera” and have my personal favorite, an “Arepa de Pabellon Criollo”. The Pabellon Criollo is the national dish, which includes shredded beef, black beans, white rice, fried plantain and shredded cheese spread on top. For dinner, you can go home and enjoy a delicious “Reina Pepi’a” which is made with a typical Venezuelan chicken salad known as “ensalada de gallina” (hen salad) and avocados. If you are still hungry later on and the kitchen in your house is closed, don’t worry Areperas never do."
In New York City, most arepas are found in the lowest dregs of the culinary world. They are an unfortunate staple of those street fairs that pop up for a few hours or so, seemingly serving only to fuck up traffic, and sell crap that literally nobody buys – like dreamcatchers. These knockoff arepas taste like deep fried plastic, and they aren’t that cheap either. Until I found Caracas Arepa Bar, that was my only option short of risking my neck in South America.
Caracas Arepa Bar has an impressive array of arepas to try, usually featuring some combination of meat, cheese, bean, avocado, fried plantains, or vegetables. According to my buddy, a trip to Caracas Arepa Bar wouldn’t be complete without trying the Arepa de Pabellón. Stuffed into the corn pocket is a bounty shredded beef, black beans, white salty cheese and sweet plantains. It’s outrageously good to say the least. The ingredients logically belong together, and I’d be glad to devour them on a plate with a fork any day, but the arepa adds depth of texture and a sweet corn flavor that brings it up a level. It functions almost the same way as a pita in Middle Eastern cuisine. Sure, I would love to eat falafal and hummus any way I can, but a portable holder for your food makes it more intimate. Eat with your hands whenever possible.
The restaurant is small, so you might have to wait for a table, but its size adds to its charm. The Arepa Bar feels much like a small home. It is filled with Venezuelan memorabilia, fully decked out in the yellow, red, and blue colors of the flag. As I sat enjoying my arepa, I looked up at the wall only to find an very eerie bobblehead doll of Hugo Chavez leering at me. Images of Chucky from the Child’s Play films came to mind, only instead of slicing me into pieces, the Chavez doll would have censored this post (and then probably have me sliced to pieces.) Until next time, stay hungry out there amigos.
Report Card:
Food: B+
Atmosphere: B+
Service: B
Price: $$
Overall: B+
Monday, January 18, 2010
Crif Dogs
Stumbling around the East Village last night, I decided to pop into one of my absolute favorite late night snack stops, Crif Dogs. Just a stone’s throw from Tompkins Sq. Park, Crif Dogs is a neighborhood landmark, a hole in the wall with a punk rock flavor that serves some of the city’s best hot dogs.
I’m not one for toppings on my hot dog, I’m more of a mustard and kraut kind of guy, but Crif Dogs is a bastion of throwing the kitchen sink on top of your tasty wiener. But before I get to the dogs, I want to say a few things about the venue. Crif Dogs is a hot dog stand with balls. On the other side of Seventh Street sits the now famous fire-escape-laden apartment building that the mighty Led Zeppelin used to as the cover art to their 1975 double album “Physical Graffiti”, and Crif Dogs shares that rock and roll attitude. The place is a dive, a dingy little space demarcated by a neon hot dog sign that reads, “eat me”. Just beyond the door sit some of my absolute favorite arcade classics, Double Dragon, Pac-man, and Spy Hunter. They are busted up, and sometimes don’t work great, but it certainly adds to the charm. Across from the mini-arcade is a seemingly out of place London style phone booth. If you know the right people, a well-timed knock on the trap door will open into PTD or Please Don’t Tell, one of NYC’s last remaining speakeasies, but that's a whole other review.
There are a plethora of dogs to choose from, but that’s why I’m here to help. Some are definitely better than others. Let’s start with the champ, the sure thing, the go to, the always delectable, the “Spicy Redneck”. The good folks behind the counter take a seemingly innocent dog, wrap it up in some tasty bacon, and drop it into a deep fryer. It sounds strange but deep-frying is actually a great way of making sure the hot dog has the requisite snap. As you know from last year’s “Hot Dog Battle” (see below), snappiness is probably the most important feature of any dog, done up with toppings or not. Once it emerges, its topped with some tasty cole slaw, chili, and diced jalapenos. The Redneck throws off the perfect amount of heat, but is balanced with the creamy slaw, and the fiery chili.
Up next, the Good Morning Dog.. For a full review I’m going to throw it to guest blogger, and hot dog connoisseur, T.Z. Windman. T.Z. writes, “The Good Morning Dog begins in the same fashion as most other popular Crif Dogs – wrapped in bacon and deep fried until crispy - but the Good Morning stands out from the other delicious dogs with the addition of the over easy fried egg and a slice of American Cheese. Add ketchup and this simple arrangement combines to create the best Bacon, Egg and Cheese sandwich you may find in NYC, though I doubt you will find many residents who will start their day with a Good Morning…as opposed to ending a good night”
The Chihuahua is aptly named, as this dog has a little Mexican flair, but unfortunately falls a little flat. Again, deep-fried and wrapped in bacon, but this time the dog gets the sour cream and avocado treatment. There’s certainly nothing wrong with that, but it’s just not on par with the Good Morning or the Redneck. If avocados are your thing, go for it.
I couldn’t pass up getting a “classic” kraut and mustard dog on the cheap. In this department, Crif Dogs just can’t compete with Grey’s Papaya. The dog is tasty, but the sour kraut is too mild, almost sweet, and winds up sogging the bun. At Crif Dogs, stick with the specials.
Here’s a few FoodGasm New York tips and tricks. Order ahead. A simple phone call will save you a bunch of time. Crif Dogs is always packed with a boatload of drunk and hungries, so if you don’t call, you can face an intimidating line. Second, if you can only scrape enough change for one dog, but want something to wash it down, there is free water in a cooler by the door. In the end, this hot dog stand/retro-arcade/speakeasy is definitely one my favorite late night joints.
Report Card:
Food: A-
Atmosphere: A+
Value: $$
Service: B+
Overall: A-
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
The Bistro Truck
Food trucks around New York City are giving an entirely new meaning to “meals on wheels”. Sure, street cart vendors have always been a part of the city’s charm, but the invasion of high quality food trucks transcends the traditional dirty water dogs and street meat so tied to this city’s food culture. This influx of everything from barbeque to waffles and dinges in mobile form seems obvious for a city constantly on the go. Still, it’s not until you buy chocolate molten cake out of the back of a truck that you think, “Damn, I wish I thought of this”.
What I find particularly interesting is the emergence of the expanding range of food available on the street. Middle eastern food carts have been staples of New York’s sidewalks for ages. Latin American food is certainly the runner up, but they seem no less prevalent. So, when I passed The Bistro Truck I was intrigued by the idea. It’s so fitting. In Paris, bistros are the alternative to haute cuisine. They exist so you can get a moderately priced, moderately sized, home-style meal, while you smoke your cigarettes, wearing a beret, reading Camus, and trash talking Americans. In New York, bistros have taken on a different role, often charging exorbitant prices while maintaining a certain degree of culinary snootiness. To see the bistro in the most pedestrian of settings was a welcome sight.
Lets talk food. I ordered the Marrakech lamb, which came with cous cous and a small salad. For 7 dollars, I was very happy. The lamb was likely braised for hours, and then pulled. I really didn’t detect many North African flavors though, so I was a bit confused as what made this Marrakech lamb. Instead, the lamb reminded me of a Jewish style brisket (that is opposed to Texas BBQ brisket). It was rich, flavorful, and tender, with just enough juice or gravy to soak up the cous cous. The cous cous itself wasn’t anything special, but once it got together with that brisket, it excelled. Other items on the menu include a “bistro burger”, which I saw being served, and it looked pretty damn good. My friend ordered the Dijon chicken, which I tasted, and liked.
Look, this isn’t a foodgasm in the slightest. It’s lunch on the street, for seven dollars. That being said, the service was a little slow. I chalk that up to a pretty long line, and its prime location on Fifth Avenue near 14th Street. Still, the woman who seems to play owner, chef, waitress, and cashier at the same time appeared to be working her ass off, so I chose to be forgiving. Yet, some nasty old hag just had to bitch at this poor woman. She remarked snidely about the wait, which was no more than ten minutes, to which the owner apologized emphatically. To be fair, this is street food, and it should be rapid, but I empathize with the Bistro Truck. Mainly, that is, is because I wish for nothing more than to untie my tie, wrap it around my head, and cook hot dogs out of the back of a truck. Until next time, stay hungry out there folks.
Report Card
Food: B
Service – B+
Atmosphere – A
Price - $
Overall – B+
(Note – I am changing the Price grading system in the Report Card to dollar signs, instead of a letter. An “A” for price could mean a 5 dollar sandwich, or a 25 dollar entrée, depending on where you go, so this is far more telling. Grades will range from $ to $$$$$)