We Went to There: Fatty 'Cue

A nice Eastern European man picked us up in a grey Lexus, number 96. He took us to a weird, industrial block in Williamsburg near the water. We stopped at the building with a red rooster painted on the side. The air smelled of smoked meats, pickles, chilis.

Our waiter was especially chatty. He wanted to make sure that we knew that sharing was encouraged (we did,) and that we were planning on ordering some greens (we weren't necessarily, but then we did.) He also told us that Sam Sifton inhales his food and that the smoked crab laksa recipe was off the menu, being tweaked -- the night's only disappointment.

We ordered some cocktails. I had the 'Cue, with rum, smoked pineapple, tabasco, and Pernod. It was intensely spicy, citrusy, and strong. M tried one of the cocktail specials -- a rootbeer sazerac. It was syrupy and tasted of winter spices. I was tempted by the Hitachino bombers (too overpriced) and the Recession Special, which includes a shot of whiskey, a shot of pickle back, and a PBR tallboy.

We started with a bowl of cucumbers, pictured above. They were cut into chunks, and tossed with smoked chili, brown rice vinegar, and sesame seeds. They were like spicy, un-pickled pickles: acidic with vinegar but fully crunchy and refreshing inside. The only problem was that there were too many -- probably two, three whole cucumbers. With these we ordered a plate of the 'Cue Coriander Bacon -- smoked, thick-cut bacon served with delicate toast triangles and a little cup of creamy yellow curry custard. The bacon was perfectly fatty and rich -- best enjoyed, I thought, with another item we ordered off the snack menu: Bowl of Noodles. Sam Sifton described this dish as "the OxyContin of Ramen" -- the noodles sit in a bowl of resting meat juices, chilis, and scallions, which nicely coat the noodles upon tossing. Also, the bowl came with a soup spoon full of house-made Sriracha. This may have been one of the best dishes of the night.

Our large-plate item was the Brandt Farms Beef Brisket, pictured above. The plate came with two cuts of brisket -- one fatty, one lean -- four doughy bao buns for sandwich-making, pickled red onions and cilantro, a little palette of chili jam and aioli, and a cup of bone broth. My technique was this: smear the inside of the bao with the aioli (I wasn't ready to fuck with the chili jam), lay the fatty cuts into the folds, pile on the pickled onions and cilantro, press the bao closed, and dip into the bone broth; eat; repeat; pick at the leaner cuts, which then paled in comparison to their fattier predecessors.

Then we had our pie. We ordered the whole pie menu -- which consisted of only two kinds of pie -- but still. We got a slice of spiced pumpkin pie, and a slice of whipped peanut butter pie with a chocolate top layer and a pretzel-crumb crust. These were First Prize pies -- they were second rate pies, but they were made by a company called First Prize Pies. The spiced pumpkin needed to be spicier and moister, and the whipped peanut butter pie desperately needed more salt. The meal ended on a high note, however, as we received a couple of moistened hand wipes with the check. Thanks Fatty 'Cue! Stay tuned for more Williamsburg Theres in the coming months..

Went: Westward hum!

I tried to eat everything before my departure, and here's the run down:

Cioppino

Head Cheese!

Colt and Gray:  I went to here with my dear friend, JB, to celebrate his arrival in Denver.  Colt and Gray was one of the restaurants written about in the NYT shortly before I headed west, and is a pretty exquisite place.  There was a fireplace, there were cozy gray (ahem) chairs in the small dining room, the servers were super friendly, and my company was superb.  I've always loved gray, chose to wear it more often than not, and find its presence to be reflective of grace, calm, and refinement.  That's pretty much what Colt and Gray felt like--oh, and the food was really good too.  We took a chance and ordered the head cheese.  Yes, that happened.  Head cheese is a meat jelly, and yes, sounds kind of gross, but I swear it's not!  The head of this animal, or animals, was delicious, and I had no compunctions past ordering it that interfered with my enjoyment of it.  JB had the butternut squash gnocchi, which he allowed to try--firm, soft, savory, sweet, perfect.  I had the cioppino, and it was sublime.  I've never met a shellfish I didn't like, but the addition here of the tomato fennel broth put this over the top.  I'm crazy for fennel--and recently had some fennel ice cream here in Brooklyn, but that's for another post.  We shared a bottle of wine, and reveled in the potted cheesecake--the memory of which still makes my mouth water.

Potted Cheesecake

Roast Duck Salad

The Kitchen:  My first dining experience in Boulder was exceptional.  There's something about lunch on a day that's everybody else's workday that can't be beat in my world.  It can feel like the most relaxed, decadent, happy experience a girl could hope for.  And The Kitchen might just be one of the most perfect fulfillments of this idea.  I went with a girlfriend, RB, and together in the warm sunlight of a cool day, we shared the tomato soup, the lamb burger, and the beet and hazelnut salad, and the duck salad with poached eggs.  I also had the Eton Mess--an unformed Fool, if you will, or Trifle with meringue instead of lady fingers.  It was a perfect meal that I will never forget.

Tomato soup and Beet salad

Cookies!

D Bar Desserts:  I became very wistful at D Bar, seeing all the groups of women sharing food and sweets.  I texted a couple of my girls while I was there to tell them I wished we were together--it's the sort of place you go to with your sister, with your girlfriends, with your mother in law, with little girls.  And then you go to the ballet.  Oh well, I went alone, and I went for cookies.  You can't offer a cookie plate and not expect me on your doorstep.  Four cookies, all fresh from the oven, came with a glass of iced milk.  It was gooey, and decadent, and happy.  D Bar is a happy place--where grilled cheese lives peacefully beside chocolate cake and a mini malted, and where desserts are, slyly, "enjoyed in broad daylight."

French Toast with Maple Bacon Syrup at Snooze

Greasy Spoon

Reader, I ate so many more meals--I went to Jax Fish House in Boulder, Tee and Cakes, and to H Burger.  To Oceanaire, back to Rioja, to The Market, Noodle and Co., Ted's  Montana Grill, Sexy Pizza, P17, Snooze, Cru, Sam's No. 3, and many more.   My appetite is limitless, but now it must go to Brooklyn, back to its cousin appetite, to go to there again.

John Dory Oyster Bar

The Ace Hotel - 1196 Broadway at 29th Street

April Bloomfield and Ken Friedman (of the Spotted Pig) opened the John Dory two years ago on 10th Avenue but they've since closed that location and are bringing it to the Ace Hotel (also home to Stumptown, No 7 Sub, and Opening Ceremony.) The space sounds really pretty and the soups, stews, and bar snacks sound delicious.

I Went to There: Denver

Let's be clear: I wanted to go to there first and foremost for cousin time; second and second most to bear witness to two wild nights of bloodsucking at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts; and third and thirdmost, to feed. Not on blood, but on the fruits of Denver. And feed I did -- feed we did.

Upon first arriving in Denver I was whisked away to the House of Commons, a tea room in the northwest corner of the city. Tea time, among cousins, is a tradition that has consisted of a lot of talk and little action. But the weather and the company car lent themselves to action on this sunny day, so we enjoyed afternoon tea at a sidewalk table. The service consisted of 4 little tea sandwiches: one roast beef with mayonnaise, one curried chicken, one cheddar and fruit preserves, and one traditional cream cheese and cucumber. On the second tier of the little tea tower there stood two scones, to be eaten with fruit jam, lemon curd, and clotted cream (pictured above.) On the top tier, some little petits-fours: carrot cake, chocolate cake, and a sweet little cookie. In addition, we shared a comforting slice of quiche and a square of peanut butter fudge with a hardened chocolate top layer that was decidedly OOC -- that's "out of control," for my elderly readers.

After Thursday night's show we parked at a corner table at Euclid Hall on 14th Street and we said to the man, "Please to bring us everything fried, please, and everything griddled." Not really, but we may as well have: our meal consisted of an outstandingly crunchy turkey corn dog; a platter of poutine with hen of the woods mushrooms, porcini gravy, and Wisconsin cheddar; a grilled cheese sandwich with Camembert and peach preserves; a cup of mushroom soup; a little pan of roasted vegetables; and a platter of "pretzel fried pies," which were basically stuffed churros. Also, I had the Lagunitas Censored to drink. One cousin delighted in the endless pile of hand-cut Kennebec french fries, and one cousin delighted in parsnips roasted in a honey-rosemary glaze.

And then we fasted. We fasted all night. And then we broke our fast at around 9 the next morning at Sam's no. 3, whose breakfast fare is not unlike that of a typical New Jersey diner, albeit one with a slightly Mexican theme. Eggs, pancakes, french toast: you can picture it in your mind's eye. What I really want to share is a beauty shot from the Squeaky Bean in the Highlands neighborhood of Denver, where we shared this gorgeous roast cauliflower salad with smoked trout, dates, and a parsley coulis. Also on the table: a delectable (if heftily packed) lamb reuben and a pig-shaped pig platter that came with 3 different types of salumi and a tray of toasted sourdough. For dessert, our be-sunglassed waiter, Luciano, recommended the carrot cake and shake: an adorable cube of creamy carrot cake topped with candy-glazed carrot ribbons and accompanied with a beaker (yes -- a beaker!) of vanilla milkshake. It reminded one cousin of horchata and the other cousin of kheer, the Indian rice pudding. In any event it was a delight.

I imagine that some other couple of cousins in this crazy, mixed-up world might have stopped there. "That's enough," some cousin might have said, patting her belly or, worse, skipping dessert altogether. Not these cousins. We stopped by the Denver Biscuit Company and picked up this stunner of a biscuit to-go, which would later turn into an innovative and attractive (if I may say so) late night salami and egg sandwich. With the biscuit in tow we continued on our way in pursuit of Dessert 2.0: Little Man Ice Cream, also in the Highlands neighborhood, also adorable, also cousin heaven.

Little Man donates some portion of rice, proportional to scoops sold, to villages in Ethiopia and Myanmar -- but guess what -- that's not what I'm here to talk about. I'm here to talk about how outstanding the fig gelato was. We ordered it in sundae form with hot fudge and Whopper pieces (who knew both cousins loved Whoppers!? No one likes Whoppers!) and took a little kids cup of honey gelato to-go as well. All to-go items, biscuit included, were ultimately consumed by midnight -- and enthusiastically so -- but also gracefully so.

For 10 long hours we rested and then we set out for more. Our late breakfast/early brunch at Rioja, on Larimer Street, consisted of a yogurt and berry parfait, a little lace cookie and chevre amuse bouche, eggs and pork belly (pictured above,) and the Rioja Benedict, 2 perfectly poached eggs with tomato, spinach, and bacon atop goat cheese biscuit halves.

But biscuits come and biscuits go, and the altitude had taken its toll on this biscuit. Before boarding my flight I stopped at Denver fast-food restaurant Itza Wrap Itza Bowl in the United Airlines terminal at the Denver airport and treated myself to a brown rice bowl with vegetables and tofu -- they dressed it with Thai peanut sauce, cilantro, peanut halves and Sriracha. Have you ever seen Sriracha at a fast-food establishment? Me neither. This actually wasn't so bad for airport food.

That concludes this cousin's Denver eating adventure. All in all Denver has proved to be an excellent source of bar foods, fried foods, desserts, baked goods, griddled foods, breakfast foods, and meats. One can eat well there, but it's certainly no place for any cousin to stay too long -- may I recommend Itza Wrap Itza Bowl for your impending trip home, cousin -- I'll see you in November.

I Went to There: Maialino

So on Friday night I went to Maialino, Danny Meyer's new -- well, 10-month-old -- Roman trattoria on the ground floor of the Gramercy Park Hotel. I've wanted to go to there for many, many months, since before it even opened when I was subsiding on 99-cent sacks of potatoes in rural Ireland and dreaming of suckling pig. Thanks to the really nice people I worked for over the summer, I got a prime reservation and a really amazing meal on the house -- there, that's my disclaimer for the Federal Trade Commission.

Maialino has a noisy (in a good way) front area with a long, walnut bar and an open cucina counter -- this area looks out onto Gramercy Park to the south and lower Lexington Avenue to the east. There is also a quieter dining area in back where tables are spaced further apart, and we were seated sort of on the border between the two -- a couple of tables away from Woody Allen and Soon-Yi -- you can imagine how many other diners around us were tweeting on the topic throughout the meal.

We decided to order something from every section on the traditional Roman menu. Our salumi was a Soppressata Piccante from Long Island City, which came in beautiful, nutty slices just in time to enjoy with the remnants of the bread basket. Our antipasti was Carciofini Fritti, perfectly warm and crispy fried artichoke hearts accompanied by an anchovy bread sauce. Everything seemed to come out precisely when it was ready and just minutes after our having finished the preceding plate, such that everything was texturally perfect and appropriately paced. Before our larger courses came out, our server brought us a plate with two little slices of crostini topped with ricotta, grainy sunflower honey, and juicy, soft, pink figs.

Our main courses were the highlights, even though everything I've already described could have made up a remarkable meal in itself. From the primi menu, we ordered the Malfatti Al Maialino, asymmetrical folds of eggy, homemade pasta with suckling pig ragu and fresh arugula. Our secondi was Pollo Alla Diavola, a half chicken pounded and roasted to a light crispy outer texture with black pepper and pickled chili. With the crackly, spicy skin and the garlicky bitterness of the accompanying broccoli rabe (ordered separately,) this dish might have been the most impressive. We polished off a quarter chicken each.

We finished off our bottle of Nero D'Avola from Firriato and ended the meal with an Affogato. I left feeling not as Sam Sifton suggested I might -- "panting a little, ready for sleep" -- but perfectly content with how the meal had lived up to my expectations.

Denver Destinations

I want to go to:

Rioja
1431 Larimer St.
Mediterranean, and website currently has a picture of a cocktail with jalapenos floating in it. Sign me up. Also, an excellent brunch menu featuring buttermilk waffles, crab crepes, and goat cheese biscuits. This also appears to be a minute away from your apartment! Sigh, I bet you've been to there.
www.riojadenver.com

Root Down
1600 W. 33rd Ave.
The Times mentioned this one in their recent article on local food in Denver. They have an enticing happy hour menu with hoisin duck sliders and sweet potato falafel. The space used to be a gas station and maintains a lot of 50's design elements. Ugh, you've probably been there, too.
www.rootdowndenver.com

Colt & Gray
1553 Platte St., #120
Another recommendation in that Times article. Oysters and coppa, marrow and beet burgers. The most baffling/intriguing thing on their menu would probably be the Croque Madame with Tomato Soup Apple Cider Fried Chicken Sandwich with Fennel Kraut. What?
www.coltandgray.com


There you go, cuz. What do you think?
P.s. -- Does anywhere in Denver serve lunch?

Want: Vandaag

As a new, and tentative member of the picklophile club (spell check just asked me to change that word to pedophile--I will not go to there), I am interested in Vandaag, the new, "vaguely Dutch" restaurant serving up an assortment of pickled items, from oysters (oysters?!), sausages (sausages?!), cantaloupe (cantaloupe?!), cherries (cherries?!), and pickles (pick--oh, okay). I think I'm as wary of Dutch food as I am of pickled food, and so the "vaguely" part may make this just the place for me.  I (kind of) want to go to there.