Tarting It Up

There are no photos in Pinkberry

Not ten seconds after we took this photo of our frozen yogurts at Pinkberry, we were admonished by one of the store's employees, who said:

"Pardon me ladies, but there are no pictures at Pinkberry."

There was a polite, almost rehearsed, solemnity to the phrase that took us aback.  We put the camera away.  I felt my trademarked Unnecessary Shame at the simple request.

I ordered the cap'n crunch and strawberry model - order this one if you go to Pinkberry.  I thought the sweetness of the cereal counterbalanced the yogurt's sour pang.  E. ordered the kiwi and granola.  She loved it, but I thought the granola was too subtle with the yogurt.

Pinkberry

7W 32nd Street
New York, NY 10001
(212) 695 9631

Otto: The Continuing Obsession

As predicted, Amy loved Otto's olive oil gelato, so we had to go back again before leaving NYC.

I think, however, that we're hicks.  The bar at Otto was packed on Sunday evening.  People engaged in conversation, swirling glasses of wine, sniffing, then quaffing meaningfully.  Tossing heads back in insouciant fits of laughter.  Ok, any more pretension and I'll have to break into stanza format.  Point: while all of this was going on, Amy and I had our eyes trained on this board like a dolphin on a trainer dangling a sardine:

Jacques Torres Chocolate Haven

After our brunch at Miracle, we wandered a bit around Greenwich Village and Tribeca, taking advantage of the skies that weren't actively soaking us.  We came upon Jacques Torres' Chocolate Haven, and with a name like that, how can you not go in?

Miracle Bar & Grill

It was Sunday morning: temps in the low 60s and skies painted in shades of grey.  And it wasn't raining!  We decided to make the morning tourist-pilgrimage to the Magnolia Bakery.  We were dropped off on the way-wrong side of Bleecker Street, so after walking many many blocks, Magnolia had its requisite line extending around the block. 

Amy needed a sit-down place after our unexpectedly long walk, so we walked to the Miracle Bar & Grill, which lives about a half block away from Magnolia.  In all honesty: I had attitude about this place.  It was untested.  It was un-Chowhounded.  But Amy wanted to try it, so with a harrumph from me we went in.

Sarabeth's

Bleh. J. the fertility goddess was in NYC, and she brought life-giving rain to the city. SO FREAKING MUCH RAIN. We decided last night to go back to The Spotted Pig in the West Village. After battling through rain and stepping in several a puddle, we MADE IT.

AND IT WAS CLOSED! Argh.

So we went to Otto, which had a 2 hour wait. Instead of ambling around longer in the soaking rain, we decided to go back to the Least Common Denominator (near our hotel): Sarabeth's on Central Park South. This place is apparently super-popular for breakfast/brunch, so dinner must be passable as well? Right?

Eh. We sat kinda uncomfortably close to another couple, and the guy of the couple had this booming voice that made conversation feel a little inhibited. I can report back, though, that he knows how to make parmesan cheese crisps, and exactly how he does it, and that his friend from high school was murdered because he didn't pay his debts, and...

Doughnut Plant

It was RAINING LIKE CRAZY in NYC yesterday, and looking out my window: oh look, more rain now. Stop it. We had our lunch, and we had an address for the fabled L.E.S. Doughnut Plant. With my keen sense of navigation, we started walking north along 1st avenue.

We were looking for Essex and Norfolk. We kept walking north, and we quickly deduced a pattern: we'd pass 1st street, then 2nd street, then...3rd street. I think you can see where I'm going here. No named streets. WE WERE CLOSE but without a map, so we hailed a cab. The cab, of course, shot us off into the exact opposite direction. So much for my migratory-bird-like sense of direction.

The Doughnut Plant hand-makes its doughnuts with the finest ingredients, and that isn't just good salesmanship. They taste fresh and fantastic. The humidity in the store was lurking around 100%, so my valhrona chocolate glazed doughnut was more like a chocolate syrup doughnut:

If a child ate this doughnut, that kid would get the cute "chocolate smearing hands and face!" look that tempts out the camera for cute picture taking. When I ate this doughnut, I got the same look and it caused Amy to avert her eyes. "Oh no - under the nose. Ugh - now on both cheeks. STOP SMEARING IT."

She loves me. Amy got the more practical vanilla bean doughnut:

"Honest" comes to mind to describe it. You don't realize that other doughnuts don't use real vanilla until you taste this - the flavor of the vanilla bean permeated the creature wonderfully. Also, these doughnuts are large, maybe twice the size of an average doughnut. I should have included something in the picture for scale.

The salesman there was a cutie as well, but he semi-admonished me not to take pictures in the store. I nervously laughed, unsure if he was kidding or not. He was a chatty one.

Doughnut Plant
379 Grand Street (between Essex & Norfolk)
New York, NY 10002
(212) 505-3700

Babbo

We had a Friday night reservation at Babbo for 11:15 P.M. That's late. It's so late that your day revolves around your super-late dinner; wake up late, lunch early...prepare. Dennis Farina was leaving our hotel at the same time that we were! Amy also thinks that she saw Mario Batali at Otto earlier in the day. It was all about the celebrity yesterday.

We opted for the traditional tasting menu, which consists of 8 courses with 8 accompanying glasses of wine. Unsurprisingly, I went for the wine pairing. Amy didn't. First up, the amuse bouche: crostini with garbanzo beans in balsamic vinegar.

Next up, duck bresaola with Cavolo Nero and "Giardineria." It's dry-cured duck with pickled vegetables. The concept of pickled veg sounded vaguely unappealing to me, but the pickling made the veggies crisp and slightly briny. The pickled cauliflower was to die for. The wine tasted bright and citrusy, like a sauvignon blanc.

Next up, soft folds of pappardelle with chanterelles and thyme. This is my favorite course from the tasting menu. Simple and buttery with warm autumnal mushroomy and herb flavors. If this dish were a verb, it would be "cuddle." Awww.

At this point, we forgot to take a picture of the duck tortelli with tomato sauce. The sauce is called "sugo finto," which means red sauce that tastes like it took a long time to cook, even though it didn't. The duck in this dish tasted more robust than the bresaola - it moved along the spectrum towards slightly gamy, even, but in a good way.

Speaking of the potential for gaminess, next up was grilled venison with acorn squash caponata and black truffle vinaigrette. Caponata must mean something like ratatouille.

This dish was great. The venison was filet-mignon tender and had a powerfully beefy taste. There was a sweet component to the caponata that played nicely against the meaty venison. Loved the wine as well (this is glass number 4 by this point), a big berry-filled wine called "Carmignano, Tenuta di Capezzana 2001."

And thus endeth the savory experience. First up in the dessert parade, Coach Farm's Finest with Pink Peppercorn Honey.

And then, Almond "Ciambella" with Fig and Almond Marmellata. This cake was little (like smaller than a half-dollar coin) but the marmelade packed a wallop. Wonderfully fruity against the moist almond-flour cake.

And then a bittersweet chocolate creama with a quenelle of raspberry cream. By this point I was enjoying glass number 7 of wine, so I recall babbling something to Amy and taking about 5 times as long as she did to finish. This is atypical, trust me. I have broken a bond of femininity: I am not fond of chocolate desserts, as a rule, so this was just ok to me. It was appealingly more chocolately than sweet, but there wasn't really any subtlety to the dish at all.

And last. Amy got the Vanilla Bean Bavarase with Brown Butter and Laurel. Creamy and honest: vanilla, cream, noisette butter. She couldn't really finish it, but she liked what she tasted.

I forget what mine was: Autumn in Dessert Form. There's cranberry and walnut and nutmeg and cinnamon. This is a red and orange leaves outside dessert. After finishing my glass of vin santo, I couldn't finish mine either.

I love Babbo SO dearly. It's a comfortable place that serves great food, and it's inexpensive relative to the quality. Much like Dennis Farina.

Otto Gelato (Reprise)

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

John Keats wrote it in Endymion, and YES I feel like a complete dork quoting it to describe a food experience, but this is just A+++ magnificent. Best of Class, as the Barefoot One would say.

It's Otto's olive oil gelato with strawberries and passionfruit granita. There's a drizzle of basil oil atop it; there's more olive oil and sea salt. This is the best dessert I have ever consumed. The flavors are fresh and complex and wonderful and perfect. Please consume this.

Le Pain Quotidien

Amy has been up since 2:45 A.M. (she had a super-early flight out of Atlanta). I've been up not that long, but I didn't have breakfast. For our first meal here, we went to the low-key and yummy Pain Quotidien. In French, this means "Daily Pain."

Weird, this restaurant is a Belgian chain. Only one other Belgian-owned chain leaps to mind, and that one makes me look askance at it. So trivia item 1: this place Belgian. Trivia item 2: in the U.S., you can only find this place in NYC and LA. Worldwide, it inhabits a handful of countries in Western Europe, and also...Lebanon and Kuwait. Leba-freaking-non gets a Pain Quotidien but not D.C.?

I also smell a Babelfish-translation service on their website: "In the sober decor of a bakery of yesteryear, ‘Le Pain Quotidien’ has restored to bread the place it deserves, that of an essential part of the diet." Something doesn't strike me as English-as-mother-tongue here.

The atmosphere is mellow and friendly. Service has been fairly slow at all of the branches I've visited - maybe this is a French/Belgian thing? Food is inexpensive and full of character. I ordered the curried chicken salad:

Hand-carved chunks of chicken breast in a very slightly spicy curry mayonnaise. Fresh and simple. The cranberry chutney packed a little bit more of a wallop. Fresh fresh vegetables as well, not the tired wilted interlopers that too often lurk next to sandwiches. Amy ordered the black bean hummus sandwich with avocado:

It looks like Amy's purse is sitting down to lunch. And hmm...one Belgian's bean dip is another Belgian's hummus. I'm trying to sound clever when I'm sayin' this tasted like bean dip to me. But good bean dip! It's a light sandwich made with care - the sweet roast peppers and creamy avocado played nicely together.

Back in New York City

AHOY MATEY from the Big Apple. Amy and I just arrived in New York City, just in time for "specific threat" security alerts and the partial shutting down of Penn Station! Couple this with a weekend forecast with plenty of rain, and it's My Kind of Vacation Timing.