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Take a trip with me to Cafe El Portal (down the stairs on Elizabeth Street) where proprietor Igancio’s mom is cooking up insane authentic food a la Nopales Burritos, some of the best guacamole and pico around, not to mention the pork tacos with a hint of lime. Wash it down with a Jarritos or Cerveza. Know the Mezcal flows freely (makes for a great post lunch sip) as does the small, warm blue-hued vibe of the place.
When en route to and fro JFK/LGA, I always attempt to capture a photograph of one of the best tags of recent memory. ” CON$ervative.” Man; that is good stuff. Whoa Rudy. Whoa Georgie B. Anyway, thanks to Frank Jump and the blog (see here); I can bring the photo to life. Completely dope.
(Image: Frank K Jump)
This is a continuation of missing New York sushi week. The list would be incomplete without Tomoe Sushi (at 172 Houston Street). When visiting, I hit this joint circa lunchtime with AKP for some serious fish. The sashimi melts in your mouth and the sushi rolls are so soft; they almost disintegrate. The house made soy sauce is divine and it’s been such a holy experience of food sometimes (this is hard to believe) I cannot even talk. Yes, silence falls upon me. Tomoe is my church of food. Bring cash or your AMEX and your good to go; plus the tables are close to one another for optimal eaves dropping.
I love Indochine, period.
The people all look fabulous and it’s one of those time capsules. Everyone who is anyone has walked through the fabled doors on Lafayette Street, long before places like Butter. It’s people watching (not gawking) at it’s very best. It’s divinely chill; automatically chill. Decadent chill. The old timers all have stories (many of which include the bathroom) and various downtown celeb sightings.
It’s been on the scene for 25 years; with a newly minted Rizzoli book to boot (please snag one for your coffee table NOW!.
Did I mention the food, fantastic. The menu seems untouched from the perfectly crisp spring rolls with French slash Vitanamese influences. Grilled eggplant, spicy beef salad, steamed chilean sea bass (man; it’s hard to type this as I salivate). Drinks are poured to your liking of course ; dirty Belevedere martini please. The checkered floor and the green palms trees throughout offer that french colonial vibe. I miss going to Indochine, but I still love it.
(1st image: Shanna Ravindra/nym)
(2nd image: interview magazine)
As a winter storm moves through the midwest, my stomach can only ponder warm comfort food. You know mac and cheese, collard greens, Brussel sprouts and potatoes. Then I think of Mamas Food Shop and it’s vintage interior with mix/matched chairs and retro lighting. Man, that is good food and certainly stood the test of time. The last time I was there, say August 2003, I walked home after eating a side of green beans, when I had a severe case of Anaphylaxis. Granted, I didn’t know I was allergic to green beans brought on my exercise. Eat the beans, walk, and come close to stabbing yourself with an Epipen. Oh well, I would still eat their food any day just not those crisp, divine green beans.
One of my favorite blocks in New York, Crosby Street, sits a narrow hallway of a tapas bar called N33. Yes, it’s 33 Crosby Street. The food is spot on for snacks and sangria. It’s warm and if you’re lucky; hit the live music nights or hang with the locals.
(image Flickr)
and the art of the black and white cookie.
and, while everyone has their favorite. mine resides at The City Bakery where a shortbread circle makes way to vanilla and chocolate icing. “Nothing mixes better than vanilla and chocolate,” says Jerry, explaining the art form in Seinfeld. Certainly, they are a bit sweaty sitting at the deli in that cellophane but when baked properly, truly a New York treat.
My good pal, Kerry (“KK”) just reminded me of this long standing Thai staple, Kelley and Ping (the original: 127 Greene Street) which has been serving up good tea, noodles and dumplings in an Asian market atmosphere. Remember in Great Expectations (night scene) when Ethan Hawke stole Gywnnie (weighing about a buck one) away from her rich boyfriend and they ran into the rain. Well, that was Kelly and Ping’s. The space is housed in a high ceiling, railroad space bustling at lunch and more chill at night. Skylights, creaky floors and wood tables. Don’t forget your chopsticks.
(image: Photo by Carmen Lopez and AJ Wilhelm/NYM)
Well my friends, now I’m leaving the wanna-Bee Max’s Kansas City folks and heading over to a bit more arty place where some trucker hats still reside. Still, I cannot help but smell the baked, warm artichoke dip and I instantly like the vibe of the place; warm lighting, a fireplace, taxidermy that doesn’t make me NOT want to eat. Ahhh….good old colonial Freemans Alley (and don’t forget their sharp little annex; Freeman’s Sporting Club where gents can get their hair cut and an old fashioned shave). Back inside, the freshly cut flowers, order me a nice toddy and perhaps Devils on Horseback.
NO RESERVATIONS people. Arrive early; stay late. Unless you know the Trucker Hat guy. That always helps.
From many memorable meals here (and the Matthew Barney chat to boot; while waiting in line for the loo). Oh well, don’t hate…Participate.
Serious cheese too. Walking into Murrays Cheese can be daunting unless you are with a cheese expert (not myself)although I’m training as one who fully appreciates and love the creamy, buttery, tangy delicious wedges. Ohh….Camembert, Brie, Goat, Cheddar, Parmigiano Regiano…all those regions–Spain, Italy, England, Portugal. Via the ”blog” they hook one up with a virtual cheese monger who tells you what you’ll dig. SMART.
Olives are another story; so is wine and champagne; all up and coming.
as it once were. Although you will still pass the waiters lining the streets of Mott and Mulberry, hustling you to come in and your classic Little Italy Italian flag and “Kiss me I’m Italian tees…”much has changed since the Chinese moved into the neighborhood and it became an interesting gentrification of a neighborhood once so clearly dominated by Italians.
Being a huge fan of the Italians and the great films of the time (not to mention the bevy of directors and actors) who grew up in the neighborhood, it’s hard to doubt the real history of Little Italy. There’s some great literature here.“Key scenes from The Godfather – Francis Ford Coppola’s epic family saga – were filmed in Little Italy. These include the Christening scene, in which Coppola’s family members acted as extras, and the set representing the interior of the Genco Olive Oil Company, which was built on the fourth floor of an old loft building at 128 Mott Street, at the corner of Hester.”
You can still walk the past in Little Italy; the narrow streets, the foods and smells (mixed with a bit of Chinese Wok) and the tenements haven’t changed a bit.
The warm (is this word over-utlized?)…perhaps. Okay, the rustic Italian kitchen vibe of Il Buco sounds about perfect on a cold, snowy New York day. I foresee crudo as a starting point with a glass of white and then seguing into a pasta dish (portions are small but just right) or Maltagliati con Galletti e Pancetta (rough cut pasta, chanterelle mushrooms, pancetta, nepitella, parmesan). The family tables are great to share a meal with friends and fork over to try your neighbor’s bowl. It’s as if you’re sitting in a n old Umbrian barn or someone’s home. The subterranean wine cellar (where Woody Allen sat his character Melinda of yes, Melinda and Melinda) is uber-romantic if not the perfect, dark and moody cinematic spot. Check it out live. It’s moody and perfect.
