"[A] fantastic blog... which ranges from opinions on food and wine to daily adventures in a culinary-related profession."

Thursday, July 2, 2015

A Lobster Roll Lands in Inwood

JUST a few days ago, Tryon Public House debuted an expanded menu featuring additions such as "Tryon Fries" (hand-cut fries with melted American cheese, bacon, scallions and ranch dressing); gluten-free fish tacos (corn tortilla, sweet and spicy slaw, sriracha aïoli); and a "Peaches 'n' Cream Burger" (peaches, goat cheese, bacon and caramelized onions, on a "backyard BBQ bun")--the latter does leave me feeling a bit queasy. Yet, going for lunch today, it was not the peaches and cream burger that I'd had my first taste of, but rather another new TPH menu item: the lobster roll.

Ahead of arriving at TPH, I'd pondered the best pairing for the sandwich and thought that a beer would be satisfactory. From my first TPH visit late last year, I'd remembered they were serving a Dyckman Brew pilsner; yet, upon attempting to order it (I like to support the local efforts of the 'hood) I was informed that they were no longer carrying it. I decided to go with the (somewhat less local) Bronx brew.

... let me see that lobster roll!

































With the $20 lobster roll, I was given the choice of "hand-cut fries" or a side salad. I opted for the latter. Because summer. Tryon Public House's lobster roll is topped with fresh scallions and served on a "New England club roll." And skimpy beachwear ahead or not, TPH was not skimpy with its portions of lobster or the side salad which was nearly twice the size of the roll itself! Taking my first bite of the meat-stacked buttery roll, my palate was met with perfectly cooled morsels, nicely contrasted by a freshly toasted roll. It's pretty hard to screw up a lobster roll (granted it's kept simple)... but this time around, I certainly did get my $20 worth!

Tryon Public House, 4740 Broadway, Inwood (646) 918-7129

Sunday, June 7, 2015

The Inn at Pound Ridge by Jean-Georges Hosts a Literary Luncheon for Ruth Reichl

THE morning of Tuesday, May 19th found me hustling out of my apartment at 8:45 to catch a Metro-North train for the first in a series of literary luncheons hosted by The Inn at Pound Ridge by Jean-Georges. I'd thought I had planned plenty of time to prep myself to, quite possibly, be the only male patron amongst eighty-something Westchester County ladies who lunch; alas, I'd set my alarm for the time I had to leave my apartment, rather than the time I ought to wake up--nothing a yellow taxi couldn't fix.


From the Fordham Metro-North station, JG's Inn was no more than a 90 minute expedition (including a 20 minute cab ride from Mt. Kisco to Pound Ridge). As much as I'm not partial to most passenger trains outbound of New York City, I've always associated boarding the Metro-North rail with an air of excitement! Below grey clouds, ominously hung above Pound Ridge's Inn, I was taxied behind a semi-circle of suitably polished vehicles awaiting employable valets. Walking toward The Inn's front entrance, a blondish woman remarked on my bag as I was passing: I know OpenTable--what's that? "Oh, it's a blog that I write for!" We met again in the foyer where she'd pointed to a crate of baby artichokes placed for decoration; I'd sensed she was awaiting a reaction so I bent down to touch them: Oh, they're real!

Within the grey-chic lighting of The Inn, a bevy of well-dressed middle-agees--plus a handful of younger female companions (youth by association)--busied themselves milling about, white wine in hand. Although I didn't recognize any faces among them, I could tell that this was a Who's Who of Westchester County "high society." Ducking out for a moment to ensure that my attire and visage were in check (during the dayspring dash, I'd chuted my lot of grooming balms directly into my bag), I'd made my way to a washroom at the front of The Inn; peeking out from behind an opaque shade, I spied a parade of tall-heeled women marching past the semi-circle of idling cars at the valet stand, toward the front entrance of The Inn.

PENETRATING through the darting eyes assembled at the foyer, I was suddenly halted by Jean-Georges' VP of operations, James Liakakos who welcomed me warmly--JG is here, he'll be happy to see you. Straightaway thereafter, I'd waded toward the edge of a bar, grasping hold of its marble top; handed a wine list, I was thrilled to find Pierre Gimonnet & Fils champagne offered--its 2007 vintage.

Tasting the Gimonnet on a previous visit  to 
Perry St, the wine is sheer perfection!

Confidence in hand, I'd milled about The Inn's 'bar room,' waiting for the lot of us to be seated. Among The Inn's welcoming committee was General Manger, Jason Worflar and Jean-Georges' (long-time) President, Lois Freedman. Knocking into my confidence, Are you by yourself?, Ms. Freedman inquired; The question is, where will you sit? Mr. Worflar's innate hospitality offered solution: Would you show Mr. Bradley to table 20? I was then escorted by a plaid-shirted, long-aproned server to a wide table at the front of the dining room; before long, and after a few formal introductions, I'd realized I was sitting at the editors' table, with Ms. Reichl herself.

Ms. Reichl addresses attendees, post 
a family-style dessert course


































Among my lunching companions for the afternoon was executive editor of Serendipity, Amy Levin-Epstein, and Brooke Shepard who's spearheading the magazine's annual Greenwich Food + Wine Festival; WAG editor-in-chief, Georgette Gouveia; staff from Elm Street Books; and at the head of the table, Ruth Reichl plus an open seat for chef Jean-Georges. Once all luncheon guests had been seated, the first course dishes began arriving.


In typical Jean-Georges fashion, all the food was outstanding--in particular, the house-made ricotta with compote, olive oil and grilled bread (which The Mercer Kitchen has recently begun serving as a part of its "Market Table" offerings) and the spinach pizza with mint, black pepper and lemon. And how will I forget the stalks of warm asparagus, so generously topped with morels (of which I may have taken more than my fair share)? The answer is, I will not.

family-style appetizers at The Inn

Following appetizers, we all enjoyed individually plated portions of slowly-cooked halibut served with a silky spring onion and carrot stew with peas and saffron.

slowly-cooked halibut at The Inn with 
stew as silky as freshly-broken yolk


































While I'd expected Ms. Reichl would speak at some point during our meal, it wasn't until post-dessert that our attention was drawn to the front of the dining room (not that one should expect such a food dynamo as Ruth Reichl would want to forgo a single second of chef Jean-Georges' culinary marvel).

pastry chef, Melody Farrar serves up 
fabulous sweets at The Inn

Just when I'd thought that The Inn could do no more to impress any further, my table mates and I were inspired once again with a stunning dessert spread by Melody Farrar, pastry chef of The Inn since day one. Fat kid at heart, I impulsively reached for chef Farrar's carrot cake with candied lemon and cream cheese frosting; what appeared as dense and heavy, ended up being oh-so-light! (And I won't mention the editor that avoided the candied lemon from her fair share to which I'd wasted no time in claiming like I did those extra morels!) In my effort to quell any (further) temptation of gluttonous misdeed, I'd ordered a cup of Earl Grey which arrived just in time for me to enjoy during the introductions to the afternoon's keynote speaker.

An Afternoon to Remember

Wireless mic in hand, Ms. Reichl began by answering the first--self-directed--question: How did [I] become a restaurant critic? She went on to tell the enamoring story of the first restaurant review she'd submitted to a major publication; soon panicking over of a sudden loss of confidence; only to (later) find out just how much the editor had loved the piece (needless to say, she did get the job). Throughout the thirty-some minute Q & A session, Ms. Reichl told stories of her time at Gourmet (of which she was editor-in-chief of the magazine from 1999 to 2009)--and of its unforeseen closing--and eventually meandered toward her latest novel, Delicious!, based on the letters of fictional character, Lulu Swan, written to Gourmet over the course of years.

AT THE END of it all, The Inn had emptied itself more quickly than it had been filled; it seems Westchester County ladies are not the type to linger over mimosas. As I awaited a suitably polished black cab beneath cleared-up Pound Ridge skies, devising a return to The Inn was presently of circumstance. But do be forewarned, if you're reading this, Mr. Worflar: my city friends and I do like to linger over mimosas (or rosé for that matter!) and please do ensure that we will have somewhere to sit!

The Inn at Pound Ridge by Jean-Georges, 258 Westchester Avenue, Pound Ridge, NY (914) 764-1400

Monday, April 13, 2015

Downtown Dishes at Manhattan's Northernmost Tip: Indian Road Café

SINCE moving to Inwood, circa the start of President Obama's first term, Indian Road Café has been on my shortlist of local must-try places. It wasn't until this year that I'd finally sat down for a proper dining experience.

EXPECTING an outer-borough guest on a recent Monday evening, I'd thought that I should take him somewhere special, considering his journey. I'd already taken him to The Park View on a previous visit and as I was racking my brain for an alternative, the ever-helpful Inwood Community Group pointed me toward Indian Road Café. Spotting my post in the online group requesting "recos," IRC co-owner, Jason Minter reached out to me with a personal invite. I nearly never turn down an invite. 

 Indian Road Café's springy friseé and guanciale salad

At 8 o'clock on a Monday night, Indian Road Café was as busy as a pre-weekend rush. I was glad that we'd had a reservation and the pleasant hostess-server offered us a few different seating options. I ultimately opted for an unassuming deuce tucked neatly alongside the main dining area. 

Impressed with the wine list, I decided to start with a glass of Finger Lakes blaufränkisch--for, both, its locality and its obscurity (a varietal most uncommon among conventional wine lists). After agreeing upon a shared "degustation," my date and I began with an assortment of salumi sourced from nearby Arthur Avenue before continuing with a mid course salad of friseé and guanciale. Spying the "small plate" whilst examining IRC's menu earlier that afternoon, I'd known I would want a taste of the pork-infused (lardons and "pork bread croutons") creation!

Piercing into the salad's poached organic egg with the tines of my fork, I'd released the runny yolk and folded it into the salad, creating a decadent dressing. And served with generous shavings of parmesan, procuring a "loaded" forkful presented no problem for my friend nor for myself. It is certain that I was pleased with the dish; the only dismay was regarding the lardons which were much too thin for myself to consider them lardons and the pork bread croutons which simply seemed to be croutons. However, I still cannot forget the taste of the house-cured guanciale!

For our final savory course, our palates agreed upon lobster macaroni and cheese. Now, I am one to order a pasta dish as often as I am one to order pancakes (near to never). But when it comes to lobster, the deliberation is more likened to me acquiescing to an invitation. Furthermore, our server was quick to bolster our decision with a reassuring It's what we're known for! 

When the heartily-portioned entrée was placed before us, I peered into its shallow bowl filled with (what appeared to be) gemelli pasta, lusciously slathered with a creamy, but light coating of asiago, pecorino romano and parmigiano-reggiano cheeses along with a lobster cream and truffle oil. Now, I'm somewhat of the school of thought that turns its nose up at the use of truffle oil (give me a freshly-shaved truffle, or nothing at all!); but in this case, its prudent usage only added to the dish and did nothing to distract from the simple (yet stellar) ingredients. As for the lobster meat in the dish: we'd only wished that there was more of it (and facetiously remarked that there was only ⅛ of a tail). Yet, this is not to say that I was disillusioned with the dish; I already have plans on enjoying it again.

For our final--sweet--course, my dining companion and I decided against sharing, which brought me "full circle" with my selection of an Arthur Avenue (house-filled) cannolo. The cannolo could not have been more perfect and with a glass of brut cava, my meal ended just as well. 

At the risk of sounding cliché: All's well that ends well. (Wait--that's two, isn't it?)

Indian Road Café, 600 W. 218 Street, Inwood (212) 942-7451

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Obsession: Perry St's Chocolate Pudding

Perry St's chocolate pudding topped with
fresh cream and crystallized violets

IT'S no secret that I'm absolutely mad about the classic Perry St dessert at Jean-Georges' downtown "boutique" restaurant, Perry St. And really, it's all about the crystallized violets (if you don't like crystallized violets, I don't want to be your friend). On a recent at-the-bar-dining visit, one of the bartenders told me that when they recently took the crystallized violets off the pudding: "people freaked out" and they had to put them back on. A fellow lover of the dessert opined, There's nothing they can add to it to make it better.

A perfect pudding in every way!

Perry St, 176 Perry Street, West Village (212) 352-1900

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Return to Ithaca

LAST Tuesday, on the eve of our twelve year anniversary, I made the trip north to Ithaca on the 8 a.m. Short Line Bus. It'd been a while since I'd been to Ithaca for anything resembling an 'extended stay' and I was very much looking forward to the journey!

Ahead of my departure, I'd barely the time to pick up champagne for the celebration. Being in midtown the previous day, I'd stopped at 67 Wine to select a couple of choice bottles of wine. Noticing Billecart-Salmon Brut Sous Bois (entirely vinified in oak) on an upper shelf, I'd known then and there that that would be the first bottle we'd enjoy at our anniversary dinner; having tasted it a year before, it's barrel-aged taste proved itself one that's not quickly forgotten. 

I had already known that David and I would be dining at Moosewood (winner of multiple James Beard Awards for their several cookbooks) for our anniversary fête--we were given a gift certificate for the restaurant years prior and still had yet to use it. Briefly reading up on Moosewood's history, I was more than looking forward to our visit!

Moosewood's tomato garlic soup
with croutons and cheese


































Taking a downtown-bound bus from the foot of the Cornell campus (on/off the Cornell campus, it pays to have friends with cars) David and I were deposited a short distance from the restaurant, located within the "historic" (a renovated brick school building) Dewitt Mall. Being thirty minutes ahead of its 8:30 p.m. closing time, I was worried that we'd--possibly--be the only diners on a crisp-cold Tuesday night. But passing through the receiving area (complete with a Moosewood gift shop) into the dining room, it seemed to be the place for people "in the know." It was an Ithacans' night out.

With Moosewood's menu offering a smorgasbord of options, I (mostly) let David do the ordering. Still a bit bone-chilled, I'd thought the soup du jour sounded like a good start; I chose the tomato garlic while David opted for the cream of asparagus. My "cup" portion of tomato soup looked stunning; and tasting it, I could hardly believe I was impressed further. Simply put: it was the best tomato soup I'd ever had. As a mid course, David and I decided on the Mediterranean salad with mixed greens, marinated artichoke hearts and chickpeas, cherry tomatoes, red onion and olives (and for 50¢ more, crumbled feta).

Mediterranean salad
What can I say about the salad other than that it was stellar. Everything tasted so "fresh from the garden," especially the artichoke hearts; and for the first time, I didn't have a struggle within my mouth to get all the olive meat cleanly off the pit.

For our entrée, David and I shared, from the menu, the salmon cake(s) with lemon-herb aïoli and cabbage slaw and from the entrée specials, the salmon tart with maple apple glazed acorn squash crescents. Although our third course had arrived before we were through with the mid course, the slight ruffle quickly slipped from my memory upon tasting a portion of the aïoli-draped salmon cake.

So delicate and tender, I'd never had a fish(/crab) cake like this before! Completely un-dry, the fish tasted so fresh that if I'd been told it'd come straight from the fish monger to the fryer, I'd have no reason to believe otherwise! And with the salmon tart, the case was quite similar. Essentially a (generous) slice of quiche, the salmon tart had the same delicate, light quality of the salmon cake, but with a wonderful béchamel-like creaminess to it. And not to be outshone by its counterpart, the glazed squash crescents had a toothsomeness all its own!

Proceeding toward a second bottle of champagne, tucked discretely in my bag (Moosewood has a mere $10 corkage fee): "Normally I wouldn't, but we're celebrating... but I insist you open this bottle in the back and pour a glass for yourself." Our server tactfully opened the bottle behind me... without pouring herself so much as a taste. Complete. Class. We paired the champagne with a duo of Moosewood desserts, of which David and I agreed the upside-down cake was the more unforgettable of the pair.

"B.A. Bitters" at Bar Argos at Argos Inn

The following day, David surprised me with a free evening. Meeting me back at his apartment after an afternoon on campus, we decided on apéritifs at Bar Argos. Even though it was still "cool," I thought it'd be nice to walk to Argos rather than taking the bus (at least while the sun was still out). An easy downhill stride, David didn't protest. 

Even at just barely past its regular 4 o'clock opening, all of Bar Argos' adjoining rooms were nearly standing room only (the live jazz ensemble didn't help in the matter). Nonetheless, after a brief powwow with a few of David's colleagues who'd happened to be there, we managed to claim a couple of bar stools. Recalling a keen interest in Bar Argos' housemade bitters on my last visit in November, I'd wanted to try one of their specialty champagne cocktails. Sounding completely exotic (to me), I'd placed an order for a mushroom champagne cocktail!

"The bitter the better" is an old saying of mine

Even though I couldn't taste any mushroom, the cocktail did make me feel fancy. And I couldn't wait to tell all my "city friends" that I'd spent the week drinking mushroom champagne cocktails in Ithaca! Following my un-mushroom-y glassful, I decided to stick with bubbles and selected the "Purple Rain" with Plymouth gin, liqueur de violettes, lemon, prosecco and violet sugar. While I'd wished the Purple Rain (which looked more pink to me than it did purple) was more violet-hued... its taste pleased me perfectly.

I could easily drink six of these

Post-Argos, Maxie's Supper Club (which David had introduced me to on a previous visit) seemed like a good idea. A dozen oysters, several plates and a bottle of Nicolas Feuillatte later, it proved itself a sweet end for our two-day celebration. We didn't even need dessert. 

The "Eat" Goes On...

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

Burger Battle on Dyckman Street

WITH the popularity of my Inwood Goes Yuppie post (surprisingly, the fifth most highly-viewed post in my blog's 5 year history), I decided to give The Park View's burger a try.

The Park View's Kobe burger

































On a bitter-cold night, just ahead of the "Valentine's weekend," the bar at The Park View stood unoccupied; I was surprised, because at 6:45, I'd only fifteen minutes left to take advantage of the 4-7 p.m. happy hour. Pulling out a bar stool, I began disrobing of my cold-soaked layers.

Perusing the beverage options, I nearly selected a cider, but instead opted for my usual "Laya" grenache (The Park View sometimes doubles as my home office). Having already decided on my food order, the only remaining decision was regarding toppings: cheddar, Swiss, mozzarella, munster, smoked bacon, mushrooms or caramelized onions. Wanting to taste The Park View's burger as "unadulterated" as I possibly could, I selected the modest cheddar topping.

In due time, my burger was presented by, who I'd believed to be, The Park View's general manager, who then expressly asked if I'd care for any mayonnaise or mustard. Do you have Dijon? "Sure!" Arranged on a plate with "fixins" of lettuce, tomato et al on the side, I was truly excited about tasting my Kobe burger with its brioche bun. Momentarily setting the top aside, I'd arranged additions of lettuce (beautifully dark-green and leafy), tomato, red onion and a pair of cornichons. Not wanting to stall enjoyment any further, I picked up the burger, whole and took my first bite. 

Now, being the "food snob" that I am, I never eat a burger without a knife and a fork (save for those occasional post-4 a.m. diner excursions). But The Park View's burger, with its gleaming brioche top, was gazing so invitingly that I simply could not resist picking up the burger, whole--then and there. And regret never arrived, for my attention had quickly turned to the burger's Kobe beef. Of assured high quality, the perfectly cooked medium-rare patty tasted of what you'd expect every excellent burger should taste of. And with its brioche bun, fine lettuce and crunch and tang of the onions and gherkins: these ingredients only added to the experience. As for the fries: they nearly dulled in comparison, yet were just as good as any perfect New-York-diner-fries.

Thirty-somewhat minutes later, I could hardly believe I had finished the entire burger. On my way out, I'd nearly reported to the staff that their burger is better than--wait, I'd better not. It's not like I'm actually trying to create a burger battle on Dyckman Street!

The Park View, 219 Dyckman Street, Inwood (212) 544-9024

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Super Bowl... and Prosecco?

two proseccos from the noted Treviso region of Italy

































CONTINUING where I'd left off with A Decadent Holiday, 2014's holiday season was filled with enough bubbles to carry David and I well into the new year. Just ahead of our Christmas dinner in, my good friends at Colangelo PR sent two bottles of D.O.C. Treviso proseccos with the anticipation of "hearing [my] thoughts."

WANTING to start with a prosecco that I'd not tasted before, I opened the Villa Sandi "il fresco" prosecco. At first taste, I was surprised at how similar it tasted to Valdobbiadene proseccos--one of my favorite prosecco varieties. Immediately, I recalled the light, flowery taste, synonymous with "Valdo" wines; but it wasn't until I had done some research that I'd learned that Valdobbiadene is a town within the province of Treviso (in the region of Veneto). According to prosecco.it

[Valdobbiadene wine] is a wine you will be able to recognize "blind" once you have tasted it...

Although the aforementioned wine may not come from Valdobbiadene proper, when considering its floral character and light crispness: the regional terroir (in this case) does result in a quality quite similar to those "inimitable" wines of Valdobbiadene. The second bottle from which David and I drew tastings was the Mionetto brut spumante. Harvested from grapes grown on clay-rich hills in an area near Valdobbiadene, this D.O.C. wine carries characteristics congruent with the Villa Sandi il fresco, but with a drier finish.

... but what does all of this have to do with Super Bowl, you ask?

Well, the savvy folks down at Colangelo PR put together these spirit-rousing game-day pairings that will ensure a buoyant time for all (and I do always love me a good bubbly and pizza)!

Thanks to its low acidity, moderate alcohol strength and fresh, light flavor, Prosecco DOC is extremely versatile and can be served with almost any game-day snack you can imagine. Below, you'll find several fun, interesting ways to serve up your bubbly, from kickoff all the way through the fourth quarter!

With take-out pizza: A margherita pizza, with fresh tomatoes and gooey mozzarella pairs perfectly with prosecco. The light, citrus flavors of the proscecco balance out the richness of the mozzarella and parmesan, which keeps your guests from getting full too fast!

With blue cheese dip: Though most might say a nice port should go with blue cheese, this is Sunday Night Football. You want something that's going to work with your dish and your mood. Prosecco is the prefect pick--it's light, it'll cut through the richness of the cheese and it has a little bit of fruitiness to counter the tangy, funky qualities of the cheese.

With jalapeño poppers: When you pop the fried, cheese jalapeño into your mouth, the first thing you'll want is something bright and refreshing to clear out those sharp flavors. Prosecco has the bubbles and the acidity to cut both the fat of the cheese and the spice of the pepper and in turn, refreshes you for your next snack.

Cin cin!

Saturday, January 24, 2015

Inwood Goes Yuppie (With Tryon Public House's White Truffle Burger)

Tryon Public House's long-awaited food menu debuted this week
(no more B.Y.O.F.)


































INWOOD'S recent transplants (I'm referring to the Darling Coffee, The Park View and the Starbucks set) must have heard the choir of angels and witnessed a parting of clouds when Tryon  Public House opened its doors just three weeks ago. While in recent years, additions such as Beans and Vines, Inwood Local and The Park View have given Inwoodites a bit more diversity when it comes to their dining options, it seemed that many were still waiting for an establishment that would get things one-hundred percent right. There are places that get the decor and atmosphere spot-on, but their menu needs tweaking; and others that serve Upper Manhattan's finest cuppa joe, yet serve lackluster dishes in a cramped, ill-looking front room; and there's also the neighborhood's most recent openings, which--more often than not--eventually fall victim by morphing into the ill-fated hookah lounge, ultimately killing the business. With the murmur of a brand-new pub opening, opposite Fort Tryon Park, serving craft beers and pub food to boot, it seemed all signs were pointing to a probable success.

Tryon Public House serves a medium-rare down pat

A week after Tryon Public House opened its doors to the public, David and I strolled west on Thayer Street to have ourselves a look-see (and a libation). Quickly scanning the room, David selected a high-top table for two at the far end of the pub, opposite the bar. Noticing only beers on the beverage list, I readily decided on a Bulleit rye; I was glad to see they'd carried it. The completely brand-new pub (previously the place of several separate storefronts) was the nicest-looking pub I'd ever seen; and several reproduced, vintage Inwood prints circa the 1940's and 50's lent a bit of "street cred" to the place, as well as a nod to the 'hood. With the sound system churning out something likened to The Smiths, I'd heard the remark that it was the whitest music they could have possibly been playing (and looking around the room, the patrons mimicked that notion). But before I could take a third sip of my brown beverage, I'd noticed that each song on Tryon Public House's playlist was as different from its predecessor as it could have been (which seemed to me a very deliberate--and wise--move on their part).

THIS AFTERNOON, I visited "TPH" a second time, to try their truffle burger. Served with "white truffle mayo," gruyère cheese and caramelized onions "on a plain ol' brioche bun," it's the most expensive dish on the menu ($14); but it does come with "hand cut" fries or a side salad. Saddling up at the bar, just past the 3 p.m. opening, I was quickly greeted with a hearty smile by one of two who were tending behind the bar. When my truffle burger arrived, I was a bit surprised (and saddened) that it didn't come on a plate, but rather inside a tin basket of sorts (but then I reminded myself that I'm a snob and I quickly got over it). I was glad though that the bartender supplied me with a knife and a fork, for this burger was so massive and piled high that I don't think I could have eaten it by hand without the use of several napkins! I decided to start with a few of the hand cut fries, which did not offend me at all, before slicing the burger in half and taking a peek at its inside. I was impressed: my medium-rare-ordered burger was served medium-rare. Slicing my first portion, I'd tried my best to get all the elements of the burger atop a single forkful, but that proved to be difficult as it seemed someone in the kitchen had assembled my burger in a rush. Yet, with my first bite I was perfectly pleased with what I'd tasted therein.

A lovely char-grilled taste lent itself to the patty while the brioche bun seemed completely suited for the variety. As for the "white truffle mayo," I detected no truffle taste or aroma anywhere on or around the burger; and it seemed that all the caramelized onions had been portioned to only the bottom left corner of the burger (the center seems a natural placement to me). By the meal's end, I'd say the biggest offense was that the brioche didn't seem all that fresh (but maybe I'm just too used to the stellar brioche at The Park View, just across Broadway). $15.24 (plus a $3 tip) later, I was beyond sated; but TPH wouldn't let me leave without a proper farewell and an invite back. 

If Tryon Public House's food doesn't keep you coming back... their hospitality will.

Tryon Public House, 4740 Broadway, Inwood (646) 918-7129

Sunday, January 18, 2015

A Decadent Holiday

stocking the fridge for New Year's Eve

AS the 2014 holiday season approached, I'd known the time for selecting champagnes to celebrate with was also upon me. As per usual, David and I celebrated Christmas with an intimate dinner at home prior to his leaving for his folks,' a few days ahead of the holiday. Since we'd enjoyed it so, last Christmas, I again opted for the infallible Bollinger to kick off our holiday season. A little more than a week later, I returned to my local PJ Wine and picked up three bottles of some of my favorite sparklers before heading south to Mondel Chocolates at 114th Street for some confectionaries--"the best in the world" (Katherine Hepburn).


"The time we shared... intimate conversation, and lots of dark chocolate (the best in the world) came from a small shop on Upper Broadway called Mondel's--turtles, almond bark, and breakup..."
--Kate Remembered, by A. Scott Berg 

Post-Mondel, I'd found myself on a hunt for real caviar on the Upper West Side and nearly took to Twitter for help in procuring it! I'd eventually found a modest jar at Zabar's near 80th Street; with a point of my finger, the two-ounce jar was sealed and ready for pick-up by 'P. B.'

good things come in insulated travel packs

As is often the case when David's home from school, the cooking (for our New Year's Eve dinner) was left to him (after all, I'd picked up the wine, caviar and sweets)! Alas, come the 31st of December, David was laid up in bed with a fever; we had to postpone the dinner to a later date. Then within a few days, I'd followed suit with a fever and in the days proceeding, a stomach virus to boot! It wasn't until nearly two weeks into the new year that the both of us were well enough (and free) to crack open the caviar and bubbles.

a delayed New Year's wish...

Ahead of our ailments, I'd been dropping hints to David regarding how we should enjoy the caviar: Do you think we should do the classic HB egg? ... or we could do baked potato like they did in Brideshead RevisitedDavid heard nothing of my comments... but ended up making both, twice-baked potatoes and French-style scrambled eggs!

I never do mind "brunch" for dinner!

Nearly two bottles of Moët (my favorite "over the counter" champagne) later, the Mondel chocolates (champagne truffles, cocoa almonds, chocolate-dipped apricots and almond bark) were the perfect end to our "belated" New Year's Eve dinner.

But, that wasn't all that we'd had...

To be continued » 

Monday, January 5, 2015

Open Call: Food Writers' Salon Series, 2015!

programs in production for December's debut event

AMONGST my resolutions, plans and projects for 2015 is the continuation of the live reading event, the Food Writers' Salon Series (#FoodWritersSalonSeries). 

press release from LocalWineEvents.com

The purpose of the salon is to bring together/create a community of young food writers and allow them the opportunity to read their works--live--directly to an interested community. The debut salon last December was a stellar success: The Quarter's PDR was filled with twenty-something twenty-somethings, mainly industry folk including servers, chefs, bartenders, publicists and of course... writers.

on the back of a successful debut, a celebration was necessary!

For 2015's Food Writers' Salon Series, I'm reaching out to all food writers to submit their work(s) for a chance to read it live at an upcoming salon (slated to happen approximately every two months). The first event for 2015 is nearly under way at our for now home, The Quarter and I'm thrilled about two pieces already on bill for the event!

What can one expect at a Food Writers' Salon Series event?

While we try not to take ourselves too seriously... we do take our work seriously! At December's salon, one reader flew all the way from San Antonio for the event to impart her witticisms with the essay, "Dining and Dating." And embracing the alternative spirit of the evening, Ms. Araiza's "On Being A Throw Up Ninja" had the lot of us in stitches!

At 2015's first salon, you will hear a short story having to do with the "fragrances" of cheeses and another about chablis as an "allegory for my life." Following, I hope to conduct an exquisite corpse reading in the near future!

artist bios from December's programs

Calling all food writers!

Please submit your food-related writing of any kind (maximum reading time of 30 minutes) to FBTOTeditor@gmail.com with "SALON" in the subject line. Selected readers will have their bio and/or links included in the salon's programs (it's a networking event too!). The Food Writers' Salon Series is a truly unique platform to not only read/hear creative writing, but also an opportunity to meet and mingle with a community of similar interests! Who knows whom you might meet at the next salon!

Monday, December 1, 2014

A Golden Birthday

bubbles and nibbly bits at Tavern on the Green

MARKING my 35th birthday, I'd spent several weeks planning for a special evening out with my best and closest confidants...

getting addresses for the eighty invitations mailed
was not the easiest of feats (in this digital age)

After confirming with my dear friend, Gazelle Paulo that he'd be in town on the proposed date I'd also requested the honor of Marilyn Monroe-esque starlet, Mona Marlowe to be on board as a host for the evening. Arriving promptly at 7:15 p. m. (12 hours past the minute I was born, 35 years prior) I was greeted by Tavern on the Green's host team to whom I'd introduced David, but to my utter surprise: We met this afternoon! Arriving straight from the Cornell campus, David had stopped at Tavern on the Green to 'make some arrangements' for my birthday including reserving a section of couches, concocting a menu for the evening and ensuring that there would be free-flowing bubbly for everyone in attendance! Aside from the printed invitations and having some of the brightest hosts in New York City (and a dress code: Solid ties for men | French or Italian RTW for women), I was anticipating an informal evening, expecting guests would simply 'mill about' near the bar and enjoy a few cocktails while there.

Paul Alexander of The Ones and host,
Gazelle Paulo

As I settled in near the bar's fireplace, the first guests began arriving and it wasn't until our cocktail server started setting the tables with plateware and linens that I'd begun to get an idea of what David had planned...

posing in front of the fireplace
The night ultimately mimicked a reunion for me as faces that I hadn't seen in years joined in the celebration. Halfway through the evening I was surprised again as a candle-topped plate was brought out to shouts of Happy Birthday. Whilst chatting with Gazelle and Mona about their upcoming documentaries and Jenny Smith about demonstrating NARS graphic eyeliner on the 10 o'clock news (#successfulfriends), I'd realized that all good things must come to an end; and like a lady who knows when it's time to leave a party, I made the announcement that anyone who was interested should join me for disco downtown (I'd also announced that it was a "high-low" evening and that the "low" portion was about to commence).


the next day found me feeling positively domestic

After dancing the night away below 14th Street, the next morning I was up surprisingly early. I'd been keeping an eye on the weather as my calendar was reminding me that I was to host my fourth annual The Family Stone-watching and strata-eating party that evening. Alas, with nearly a foot of snow expected, my sisters (who would be driving) and I decided we'd postpone the event until a later date. Having cleared the day for it, David and I decided we'd have a strata and movie night of our own.

this year, David initiated hearts and stars as opposed
to my traditional snowflake shapes
Making the same strata year after year, I decided I'd try a new one this year of which I'd been saving the recipe since last winter. Announcing to David that I was headed to the supermarket, after looking over the recipe at hand he decided that he'd join me on the trip. We agreed upon a slightly modified version of the "hearty greens strata" and substituted the greens with mushrooms (and plenty of onion). Returning home with all that was needed for the strata and some wine and eggnog to boot, our local forecast predicted a stellar evening in!

we also found some good-looking thyme while out
Having prepared strata several times prior, getting started was a breeze; the only completely new addition was thyme, which David demonstrated how to quickly and easily strip its leaves by pulling backward along its stems. After the snowflake heart and star cut-outs and egg mixture were ready, David got to work sautéing onions and mushrooms while I grated a block each of parmigiano-reggiano and gruyere. As we both sipped on a 'mouthy' vouvray, we were getting closer to our finished product.

David demonstrates "de-leafing" thyme
Once the oven had been fully heated and the strata had been assembled in its pan, I went to setting up the front room for The Family Stone, complete with a champagne bucket to keep chilled the Taittinger I'd received as a birthday gift the previous night. And while David continued to whittle away in the kitchen preparing side dishes, I was putting the final touches on our dinner table, folding linens and lighting the candles.


just before...

































and just after

































The final product was an indeed savory strata, with the meatiness of the (shiitake) mushrooms dominating, yet meeting amicably with the addition of gruyere. And the toothy vouvray (David's pick) was a refined pairing like a sword piercing earth. My pick would have been champagne through and through, but David insisted upon saving the Taittinger for the dark chocolate truffles given by my new BFF's, the Rockefellers, the night before.

a celebratory gathering preceded a quiet evening in

While David and I watched The Family Stone in the cozy of our home, I reflected upon what a wonderful 24 hours I'd just had, and the 24 hours that had yet to happen (the next day would be Thanksgiving). Later that week, I'd remarked to David that it had been my best birthday yet... a golden birthday, indeed!

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

You Win Some, You Lose Some...

BEING a part of the printed publishing industry certainly has its rewards. There are the highs of seeing your hard work in print, spread across (insert big city here) for hundreds, even thousands of people to read. And there are the super highs: when you've worked extra hard on what you'd consider your "masterpiece"; you've received plenty more press than you normally do for a piece; or you receive an "accolade" of some sort. There are plenty of satisfactions. 


Alas, there are also the lows (and the low lows); but one can only carry on, persistently.

THIS week was a busy one: I had two "on the street" assignments for two different publications--one was to be a new one, which was slated to publish its premiere issue next month. Both articles would be due during the same week; I had a full schedule at my 'day job'; social obligations; and I had to eat and sleep on top of it all. By Monday, I awoke to notice a subconjunctival hemorrhage on the white of my eye (Halloween had come early).

And tonight, as I was whittling away the whiteness of my Microsoft Word screen I'd received notice that the publication, which was slated to debut next month, had folded before it'd even begun. (That's the short version of it.) What to do with the hemorrhage-causing article, now finished... for naught?




































THE DISH* (title of column)


by Patrick Bradley



TENTH AVENUE COOKSHOP


www.cookshopny.com

What’s just as New York as pizza, bagels and deli coffee? Saturday brunch. 

And we New Yorkers are often a picky lot; that’s why if you go to Cookshop anytime between 10:30 a. m. and 4 on any given Saturday or Sunday, you’ll most likely be met with a queue—because brunch at Cookshop is as tried-and-true as a black-coffee-breakfast or that 3 a. m. hit-the-spot dollar slice.

I’ve been brunching at Cookshop for nearly three years now and have come to learn that it’s best to make your brunch reservation at least two weeks in advance, lest you find yourself with the lot of bloody Mary-sipping standees, restively awaiting an open table. Speaking of bloody Mary’s: Cookshop offers a whole slew ranging from the mezcal-lacedOaxaca Mary,” to others doused with pickle juice or cold-pressed spinach, and there’s even one version garnished with a whole strip of bacon! Moving on to the dishes, my Cookshop triad has for long been the DiPalo’s fresh ricotta beignets; house made semolina macaroni with five cheeses and seasoned breadcrumbs; and the can’t-miss chipotle-spiced potato hash (clearly, I’m all about health). But having graduated to “alumni status,” I’m more often branching out to taste some of Cookshop’s other choice selections as of late.

Last weekend—at my usual corner table—I was given the opportunity to taste two recent additions to Cookshop’s brunch list: smoked bluefish rillettes and chopped egg salad crostini. The bluefish rillettes, served on organic rye toast with crème fraîche and pickled daikon radish were the freshest-tasting rillettes I’d ever tasted! And the chopped egg salad crostini with roasted red peppers, arugula, Dijon dressing and fine-quality boquerones (no canned anchovies here) was as good on the palate as it was on the plate. For my main course, I selected poached eggs with beefsteak tomatoes, choron sauce, toasted rye croutons and basil. Having had a taste of Cookshop’s choron sauce (think fresh-tomato hollandaise) on a recent visit, anytime I see it on the menu, it’s hard to resist.

Slicing my first portion of the multi-colored tomatoes, I was beyond pleased with a taste so good that I swore I was eating heirloom tomatoes. And the soft, poached eggs paired with the crunchy, yet tender rye croutons and the silky choron sauce made for a most decadent experience (for which I had moved on to prosecco from my former “BLT Mary”). All that remained was dessert for which pastry chef, Amanda Cook is always serving up something that is sure to please! Pointed out by my server, the peanut butter & jelly sundae was an easy decision for this suburban-raised transplant who’d spent a majority of his formative years sustained on little more than p. b. & j. sandwiches and cereal (living here more than half my life now, I finally feel comfortable calling myself a New Yorker). With peanut butter ice cream, concord grape sorbet, peanut butter shortbread and a concord grape (‘tis the season) sauce, Ms. Cook’s sundae was a refreshing spin on what one could easily view as a rather “pedestrian” dessert combination. As my server dutifully saw to my every beck and call (good food is near naught unless combined with good service), I vacated my corner banquette of another satisfied diner. But next time, I’ll remember to wear my elastic-waisted pants—a carefully placed napkin did nothing to conceal the damage!


Patrick Bradley is a freelance food writer and author of the blog, “From Behind the Open Table” frombehindtheopentable.blogspot.com.

*Changed to maintain the integrity of the publisher