One of the things I rarely get to do on business trips is eat out. That’s because most of my meals are part of the conferences I attend, and those that aren’t usually involve a telephone and my hotel room.
Don’t get me wrong: I’ve actually had some really good food during these trips. But I really love when my schedule affords me the opportunity to get out of the hotel and find a restaurant slightly off the beaten path.
Posted in Restaurants, Travel
Tagged Aigre Doux, bakery, braised oxtail ravioli, Chicago, fish on Monday, French, grilled pork chop, hamachi avocado, restaurant
The one word I would use to describe Friend of a Farmer, a country restaurant in the middle of Manhattan’s Gramercy neighborhood, is “oasis.”
This is not a restaurant one would expect in the New York suburbs, let alone in the city itself. The closest thing I can compare it to – although it’s painful to do so – is Cracker Barrel. There’s the creaky, natural wood floors, the rural decor and homey, comfort food.
But unlike that bastion of roadside diversion, Friend of a Farmer has the advantage of being one little place within the controlled chaos that is New York City. As a stand-alone shop, the place is not trafficking in mass food in a faux setting with questionable service. Our server was extremely friendly (although with a punkish vibe that would be unwelcome in Kansas) and the cozy atmosphere seemed stripped wholesale from a real country house.
And the food was mmm-mmm good! I honestly can’t remember the appetizers, but it’s hard to forget the entrees, especially when three of the four of our party ordered the same thing. This was the Fresh Roasted Turkey (cornbread stuffing, mashed potatoes, vegetables, fresh cranberry sauce & giblet gravy), a Thanksgiving meal on a plate. Enjoyed by my wife, my friend and his fiance, the food captured the quintessential family feel, with succulent pieces of turkey and accouterments worthy of any hard-cooking mom (or dad).
I, of course, picked the least country item on the menu: Honey Glazed Shrimp (mixed greens, mandarin oranges, pears, maytag blue cheese & grapes with a sesame ginger mandarin dressing). This was because 1. I had a big, heavy lunch and 2. my stomach was bothering me, probably because of 1. The salad was extremely tasty, with the tang of the various fruit playing off the sweetness of the shrimp and creaminess of the cheese. It was certainly well-balanced, but I could have used a few more shrimp and definitely more pear.
For dessert… PIE! I would have been extremely disappointed if a place like this didn’t offer at least one homemade pie. Luckily, the restaurant has a mini-bakery in its kitchen, offering a bunch of warm, carby goodies. Both couples went with the delicious apple crumb pie, a la mode. At first they had run out of vanilla ice cream, but managed to find some tucked away in the back. Between the gooeyness of the pie and the lightness of the ice cream, this was the perfect capper to a country meal.
Since Friend of a Farmer is now a friend of mine, I think I’ll return for breakfast… and brunch… and lunch… and more dinner. Care to join me?
Posted in NYC, Restaurants
Tagged fresh roasted turkey, Friend of a Farmer, Gramercy, honey glazed shrimp, New York City, restaurant
It’s about time.
Ever since moving from Philadelphia to the NYC area, we’ve struggled to find restaurants that in some way approximate the eclectic, yet sophisticated mix of cuisine and attitude to which we’ve become accustomed in that city of brotherly love.
But in the past few months, we’ve found a couple places that tap into that Philly flair.
The first (pictured) is Perilla, a great little restaurant nestled into the back streets of the West Village. We arrived there very randomly one night, having made a reservation in haste when I realized some out-of-town friends were coming into the city for the night. After a whole lot of web browsing and a few phone calls, we ended up with an 8:30 reservation at one of many NYC restaurants I never knew existed before that night.
You know how sometimes things just work out? Well, from the restaurant choice on, this was one of those nights.
Today was my second time visiting this small Thai eatery, located at 55th and 8th. In my humble opinion, it delivers on all the qualities needed for a perfect New York lunch:
If you’re looking for recommendations, you could do worse than the Pad Sea Eiw, a perfect noodly blend of salty and sweet. It’s my new obsession.
Posted in My Lunch, NYC, Restaurants
Tagged Chai, Midtown Manhattan, Pad Sea Iew, restaurant, Thai
I’ve been waiting for a serious attempt at high-end Indian food since I moved to Philadelphia four years ago. Bindi, from the people behind one my favorites, Lolita, has ended that wait.
The first thing you should know about Bindi is that it’s not authentic Indian. Just as Lolita heightens and contemporarizes Mexican spices and flavors, Bindi takes the same approach to Indian tastes. In other words, leave your chicken tikka craving at home.
Again like Lolita, Bindi offers pitchers of drink mixers. These can be paired with either rum or vodka (as opposed to tequila for Lolita’s margarita mixers) and taste so phenomenally good that they are a legitimate danger to you and your loved ones. We ordered a pitcher of the Nimbu-Pani (Indian style pomegranate-ginger lemonade); I doubled the suggested dose of vodka and still couldn’t taste the alcohol. As I said, dangerous.
The food – that’s a different story. But before we get to that mixed bag, I feel forced to add a disclaimer: Because we went here over a month ago and the menu had just changed (and is not yet updated online), food details may be a little sketchy in this review. Bear with me.
Posted in Philadelphia, Restaurants
Tagged Bindi, Indian food, jicama slaw, nimbu-pani, Philadelphia, pork chop, restaurant
This is not a picture of Philadelphia’s Django restaurant. Instead, the painting represents the BYOB’s artistic namesake: Django Reinhardt, France’s most influential Gypsy jazz guitarist.
The comparison is an auspicious one, for just like the real Django evoked mini-symphonies through the plucking of his guitar, the restaurant named after him creates impeccable meals from a medley of fresh, seasonal ingredients.
Continue reading
Posted in Philadelphia, Restaurants
Tagged bistro, byob, craig laban, django, exposed brick, french food, Philadelphia, restaurant, talula's table
No, that’s not my lunch up there, but it’s the only photo I could find for Smiths Restaurant|Lounge, the new(ish) resident of 19th Street’s tumultuous restaurant/bar collective.
I think there used to be a pizza place in the Smiths spot, but it’s gone now. As is Bootsie’s, another bar across the street. Only Matyson, buoyed by great reviews and a fanatic customer base, seems to thrive in this dead zone between Market and Walnut Streets.
Can Smiths make the case to stay here for a year or (gasp) more?
As its name suggests, the answer is a concrete maybe. Smiths is a good place – not terrible, not great… just average. The space itself is very open, despite having two bars and (at least at lunch) a burgeoning clientèle. I was also impressed by its cleanliness, both in terms of design and the lack of clutter. With its unassumingly simple decor, one could make the case for Smiths being the anti-Continental.
The menu consists of a somewhat elevated take on bar food, as illustrated by the above picture of crabcake sliders. The cooks get all of the staples right – the angus beef burgers were big and juicy, the sandwiches highlighted some novel flavor combinations, and the thin-style fries were a perfect match of crunchy and chewy. The appetizers we ordered – quesadillas and crispy crab wanton rolls – were only decent, though the flat bread pizzas and crocks looked quite adventurously prepared.
There were some distractions, however. The flat panel TVs that adorn every wall (seemingly in lieu of any real decorations) struck me as overkill. I understand how these kind of places want to attract both the foodie crowd and the beer crowd, but the pairing just didn’t seem organic here, especially for a location known more for its proximity to downtown businesses than its sports bar crowd.
Also, and I feel this is a bit of an anomaly, we were seated close to the kitchen, meaning a lot of server foot traffic. The thumps of a flat-footed waitress with thick heels combined with a weak floor made it seem like Andre the Giant was crossing behind my chair every five minutes. I swear I could feel my chair shake a little bit each time she passed.
Aside from such issues, I would definitely visit Smiths again. It has all your bar basics and better-than-average food, though it still has a lot of work to do before it’s considered a “destination” for out-of-towners.
Enjoy it if you get there, don’t worry if you don’t.
Posted in My Lunch, Philadelphia, Restaurants
Tagged 19th street, bar, bar food, beer, burgers, fries, lounge, Philadelphia, restaurant, smiths
It was a dark and stormy night.
Well, that’s not wholly true, but it’s close. And I always wanted to write that.
It’s also not true that it was Valentine’s Day. In fact, it was the Tuesday before Valentine’s Day, and while it wasn’t exactly stormy, it was dark and there was precipitation. Freezing precipitation.
Let me back up a bit. The reason we were going out on such a crappy night was because my lovely wife, who is still in veterinary school, was scheduled to work the night shift during the national love holiday. The reason we chose Mercato was more because of chance. While we’ve always wanted to try this tiny BYOB in Center City (#4 on “the list”), we figured we’d try to beat the weather by going local (within a block). Alas, our first choices, Le Castagne and Matyson, could not seat us.
Not ones to be beaten down by adversity, we grabbed a bottle of wine, walked gingerly to the curb, and caught a cab to Mercato. After ten slip-sliding, life-threatening minutes, we were there.
Posted in Philadelphia, Restaurants
Tagged byob, cheese, lobster, mercato, olive oil, Philadelphia, pyramid pasta, restaurant, risotto, scallops, shrimp, tiramisu, valentine's day
I just can’t understand why people go ga-ga for the Continental Midtown. For one, what’s with that stupid olive?
On the inside, tackiness is elevated to high art with all manner of overpriced martinis, chic seating arrangements and mediocre food.
Here are a few other reasons this place gets stuck in my craw:
Unfortunately, since the Continental is only two blocks from my apartment and two and a half from my office, it will always be a perpetual part of my life.
I went there recently as part of a Christmas thank-you lunch thrown by my boss. Of course, I couldn’t say no, especially since we were beating the lunch rush with an 11:30 reservation. When we sat, the two bored hostesses eagerly sat us, while the army of blue & pink zebras waited for their cue.
Our waiter (the only male) was nice enough, and the lunch menu was fairly diverse. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. We started with a seafood tempura appetizer which was fairly uninspired, but my lunch entree was quite tasty. Surrounding a not-too-gooey mushroom risotto (topped with some crunchy bean sprouts) were nicely seared slices of ahi tuna with a slight teriyaki flavor.
For a moment, I reconsidered my stance on the Continental. The food was certainly good, the service was reasonable and, during the day, the place didn’t seem as ludicrous.
But then the rush began in earnest and I felt trapped. Resorting to desperate measures, I uttered the two words I try never to combine while eating out: “No dessert.”
And just like that, we were gone.
Posted in Events, Philadelphia, Restaurants
Tagged Christmas lunch, continental midtown, Philadelphia, restaurant, seared ahi tuna, stephen starr
I’m done.
The Philadelphia restaurant Fork had the rare chance to redeem itself this morning after a decent, but underwhelming dinner we had there last year.
For a place that prides itself on fresh, seasonal ingredients, this brunch was downright mediocre. We were surprised to taste orange juice that was clearly not fresh-squeezed and egg entrees that could have been done better at a mid-city diner.
Although my quiche was nice and thick, it was all wrong. First, it came in layers – cheese on the bottom, then eggs, then eggs with peppers. And not just peppers, but thinly sliced green peppers, the Chevy Nova of bell peppers.
As if that weren’t strange enough, my wife’s omelette looked like a plain yellow burrito with just the hint of spinach and goat cheese that was calling out from the menu. The plate also had some potato mush that was supposed to be hashbrowns.
In a word: bleh.
Posted in Philadelphia, Problems, Restaurants
Tagged eggs, fork, omlette, peppers, quiche, restaurant, salad
What I’m Watching
