Birthday Bites

You may have noticed that I'm fond of the edible birthday. It's true. I hardly need gifts anymore. Just feed me.

This year's birthday was another good excuse for eating with friends. I was surprised (truly surprised) by a birthday brunch of some favorites from Pies 'n' Thighs -- chicken and waffles, chicken biscuits, and a doughnut "cake." What you see above are the delicious, delicious remains of that party. Thanks, friends!




Because I didn't have time to bake myself a cake to share with family and friends, Dan brought home "cookie pies" from The Blue Stove. One was chocolate chip, one chocolate crinkle, and one snickerdoodle.  Happy Birthday to me! We shared two after dinner and had one with breakfast the next morning. Frankly, I liked them better than traditional whoopie pies, though they had a little too much cream filling (event for my taste) in their middles.

My favorite almost-four-year-old also helped her mom bake me a "proper" birthday cake the next night.  It was lemony and rich (not pictured). We all enjoyed large pieces with whipped cream. I probably need the recipe.



Finally, on a whim, I bought myself a package of these limited edition Birthday Cake Oreos. Don't you hate it when the store is out of classic Double Stuf? It leads me to all sorts of wild experimentation. Anyway, Happy Birthday, Oreos (their 100th birthday is TODAY!), but I really didn't like the Birthday Cake flavor much. I have a sweet tooth, but MAN, are they ever sweet. And Dan was out of the country during the week that followed my birthday, so I was forced to eat them all myself. Total Oreo-filling-plus-weird-sprinkle-pieces overload. But I managed. I nearly always do.
 
I miss you, Double Stuf!! You're my true birthday wish. Be back in stock soon!

------

Quesadilla of the Day

Urban Rustic
236 N 12th St 
between Driggs Ave & Union Ave)
(718) 388-9444 
 www.urbanrusticnyc.com        


-------

Tortaria on University

Despite not having many vegetarian-friendly menu options (I eat meat, but not at every meal), I thought Tortaria had potential. And I still think that.  But I went in hoping to have a new favorite lunch spot (though I can't afford to eat there every day), and that's not quite how I feel about it.  After finishing my lunch I'm underwhelmed, yet hoping to try again and, perhaps, like it more.

The Mexican grilled cheese sandwich I was served had good flavors.  It simply, and seriously, needed to be grilled longer.  The bread (why challah, by the way?) was too soft and the whole thing fell apart.  But the chicken chicharrones added for crunch tasted great in there.  My good-sized side order of platanos (sweet plantains) weren't hot enough, and I wasn't a fan of the "piloncillo cascabel and tequila pepper sauce" served alongside, but I thought the tomatillo sauce available near the front counter was pretty good on them.  My horchata was fine, but perhaps watered down?  It seemed thinner than some I've enjoyed at other restaurants.  I was also mildly alarmed when the person serving drinks behind the counter (not the bartender at the bar) didn't know what horchata was.  I guess they call it "agua fresca" there.

I'll return, but cautiously.

Tortaria
94 University Pl
(between 12th St & 11th St)
Manhattan, NY 10003

Would you like bears with that?

I have a tricky relationship with the Union Square location of pasta/pizza chain Vapiano.  I've gotten pasta there a handful of times.  It feels too big for the neighborhood and kind of has a strange vibe -- sort of faux Tuscan lounge (for faux Tuscan lounge lizards?). Still, the pasta dishes I've tried are pretty tasty.  The noodles are made on-site each day and the sauces are prepared right in front of the customers, to order.   A couple of slices of nice chewy bread may or may not be included -- bread only seems to come with the pasta if you luck into the right line cook's queue, but this is a minor quarrel.

The fact that the food is a bit overpriced, but worth it for a splurge, is complicated by their tendency to overcharge me by about $2 (the second time, I was on the lookout and got it corrected).  That they use a convoluted "swipe card" ordering and payment system seems to be part of the problem.  Be alert as you're paying, friends!

The first couple of times I went there, they included an adorable and tiny cup of gummy bears with my take-out order. I considered this a definite plus. Lately, however, they've just had a self-serve bowl of gummy bears (with scoop and cups) next to the registers.  And I thought I caught a glance between two of the employees when another customer took and ate one as she exited while I was paying this last time.

Don't make me admit I want the bears and dig for them myself, Vapiano.  Don't call me a gummy bear glutton behind my back.  See what you've done now? You've made me paranoid. Just give them to me. 

Seriously.  Give me the bears.

-------

No Line? So Fine.

The problem with the original Shake Shack in Madison Square Park is that the lines are almost always ridiculously long.  When it opened in 2004, I was working nearby and managed to get in on the ground floor of the phenomenon.  The frozen custard "concretes," which are like Blizzards, and cheese fries were my special loves.  But as the lines grew longer, I stopped going.  I wasn't going to give up most of an hour-long lunch break waiting to place my order.  The food is good, but not good enough to justify the wait. 



Now, Shake Shack is expanding across this city and into others.  Until today, I had yet to try any of the new locations.  I guess I assumed the long line in Madison Square would be replicated at each.  But, happily, I see that I was wrong.  After an early afternoon at The Metropolitan Museum of Art (closed to the public on Mondays, but I have a hook-up!) seeing, among other things, the Alexander McQueen retrospective, we walked over to the Shake Shack on 86th Street.  It was about 4pm, so perhaps the time was a factor, but there was no line at all!



Dan's burger was good, he reported. My fried mushroom burger, filled with gooey melted cheese and topped with crisp onion and tomato and lettuce and pickles, was excellent.  The cheese fries were fresh, warm, and swell.  Dan's root beer didn't disappoint.  My lemonade was perfect. Our Coffee Bean Brownie (coffee-caramel-brownie-vanilla) concrete was sweet and smooth.  And, to make things even better, there was outdoor seating in a public plaza adjacent to the restaurant.  And the bathroom had a changing station.  Golly! What an afternoon of happy flavors and thoughts!



So maybe I won't wait in line for it, but I will take the train.

-------

My compliments

We did nothing to deserve a complimentary Lemon-Brown Butter Mochi Cake with kumquat sauce, black sesame streusel, and Il Laboratorio Buttermilk Ice Cream, but were thrilled when it was brought to us at one of our favorite neighborhood spots, Five Leaves.

Thankfully, our relative unworthiness did not sour its flavor.  Delicious!

-------

"We'll eat you up, we love you so."

Here's to the people and restaurants who provided special snacks and meals in the first several weeks after I gave birth to my son (three weeks ago today).

• My smarty-pants husband had Thai delivered from Cheers for the two of us, our doula, and the midwife, an hour or two after our home birth.
   
• Moss, Rachel, and Hero brought fried chicken, macaroni and cheese, biscuits, and slices of pie from Pies 'n' Thighs for dinner that first night.  Turns out that two pieces of fried chicken was EXACTLY what I wanted after 8 1/2 hours of labor.
  
  
• Nick came by with dark beer (good for milk production, they say) and ice cream and chips and...numerous other good things.  Matthew C. also brought beer (which turned out to be more for my husband than for me).
  
  
• Tim and Holly made lasagna and fennel salad, and delivered it with chocolate cake (and brought their gorgeous 6-month old daughter).
  
  
• David and Molly donated homemade chicken pot pies, ready to cook, and chocolate-coconut hand pies (pictured above).  Oh, yum!
  
  
• Carmine's was the first place we "ate out" with the baby.  We only purchased two slices of pizza at the counter, but they still let us sit in the back (which is usually reserved for people ordering from the menu), away from the construction noise on the street.

Inedible but Lovely "special mention" goes to Willow and August's cherry blossoms and two bunches of flowers from Matt C. -- not to mention all the other friends who stopped by or mailed cards and gifts of rattles, blankets, onesies, books, lullabies, and more.  Sorry I haven't named you all here!

I feel really, truly blessed. 

Stuck on almonds

Dan's preparing for an installation at the Montclair Art Museum in Montclair, NJ.  I went down to Flavor Paper, his main wallpaper distributor, yesterday to help with the "weeding" (removing the negative space from hundreds (thousands) of sometimes-tiny vinyl stickers.



These salted almonds (sent to us at Christmas by Dan's parents) saved the day.  Between them, a clementine, and some red raspberry leaf tea (good for uterine toning, I'm told!), I was able to get through multiple hours of picking away at sheets of vinyl with tweezers and my fingers.

When we were done, we grabbed some Tex-Mex at Lobo.  They start out by bringing the table a basket of what I judged to be above-average chips and salsa, in case you were wondering.  And I was hungry-but-not-ravenous, so my dinner of chicken enchiladas with verde sauce suited me well.


p.s. How's this for a bathroom?!

[Tiny Fashion Spread: Jeans and cardigan by Uniqlo, Tee from Forever 21, Onitsuka Tigers on the feet] 

-------

Peer Pressure Blogging

I got a lot of encouragement from members of our large party to blog about a recent dinner at Petite Abeille, a charming Belgian restaurant on 17th Street (among other locations), near Union Square in New York City.

The meal? Delicious, comforting, warm. I had vol au vent and frites. Incroyable!

The staff? Friendly, thoughtful, genuine.

The location? Charming, Tintin-a-riffic, cozy. And a little dark. Just too dark, in fact, to take good photos (see dimly lit Belgian chocolate mousse, above). Hence my reluctance to blog about the meal.

But I did take that one photo, and I do sometimes fold under pressure (and the meal was great), so here I am.

Hey, Brooklyn! Don't let my Baba die.

I don't like taking photos of my meal in restaurants. I don't want to be "that blogger" when I'm eating out. I don't want to disturb other diners, call attention to myself, annoy the staff, or delay my own eating. Plus, the light's usually too dim (and I would sooner perish than use flash in a restaurant). But my desire to avoid restaurant photography creates only a guideline, not a prohibition.

I took the above picture midway through my first dinner at Baba because I knew I'd have to write a blog post about it. No one else was eating there that night, at least during the course of our meal, and I got worried. The food is too good and the staff too friendly (and it's too conveniently located) for it not to survive.

Initially, I was a little unsure about the place. I took a sewing class there last year, back when it was a boutique called Maiden Hong Kong, and I felt loyal to MHK's owner and identity. I was sad when MHK closed its doors, and only somewhat cheered up when I heard that "a cheese shop" was moving in. But Baba didn't shut down Maiden Hong Kong, and I do like cheese, so how could I penalize this lovely little restaurant/cheese shop/specialty grocery?

I say it's part grocery, but that's not a large part. The few shelves with dry goods don't take long to browse. We went for dinner, and I fell deeply for the food and the friendly staff. Someone cooked me a chicken leg torchon, which was like moist medallions of meat sauteed in something wonderful (I'm guessing butter) until crispy on top. I also had a heavenly polenta (again, crispy on top) and some bitter chicory sauteed with garlic. Dan ate pork with burst grapes and something-else-that-I-didn't-pay-much-attention-to-because-my-food-was-so-good. I really think the chef must love cooking. And eating. And me.

The prices are perhaps a touch high for the neighborhood, but the food was so charming, and cooked with such evident care, that I want Baba to survive and thrive. I want to make it a neighborhood joint. I could realize my dreams of becoming a "regular" here, with a little time and care. But I need you to help me.

So, please eat there. I mean, don't go crazy (I'd like to be able to get a table without an overlong wait), but if you're in the neighborhood you've probably been to Dumont a hundred times already. Think before you retrace your footsteps to another "same old" place. Try something new! Preferably this something new. And then tell me all about what you ate and what you think about what you ate.

Baba is at the intersection of Powers and Lorimer, just so you know, in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. If you're not in the neighborhood, but you can get to the G or L train easily, I suggest you take one of those subway lines to the Lorimer/Metropolitan stop and then walk over to get dinner (or meat or cheese, if you're not that hungry) at Baba. Let's all do what we can so I can keep eating there.

p.s. As this blog post went to press, Baba waitstaff were in the habit of distributing strong, chewy, tiny licorice drops at the conclusion of each meal. Remember how I don't like licorice (mostly)? It's growing on me.

So far, I remain unsponsored and sorry about that.

If any local restaurant owner or chef wants to pay me (in food or gift certificates) to write about how awesome his or her fare is, I'm open to the idea. Especially if that restaurant is Buttermilk Channel. Because, that's where Matt got the dinner we ate for his birthday a few weeks ago, and it was resplendent -- moist chicken with a slightly salty breading, cheddar-filled waffle wedges, a thin and sweet syrup (tasting slightly of balsamic vinegar?) bread & butter pickles, coleslaw, and candied/bacon-flavored almonds. I now wish to try everything on the menu, once I can stop hyperventilating with delight.



While we're on the subject of Matt's birthday party, take a gander at the snack and appetizer buffet he assembled. This is some serious snack curation. Well done, birthday boy. Well done.


p.s. Does anyone else have 7 or more friends named Matt?

While in Pottstown...

...why not breakfast at Shorty's Sunflower Cafe? I chose French toast stuffed with pear cream cheese (a special) and insisted on a few bites of Dan's home fries as my side.

If you're a regular here at Snackreligious, you know I love a reasonable portion size, which can be hard to find at a place that specializes in classic U.S. breakfast dishes. However, at Shorty's, the servings seemed just right.

Service was verrrrrry slow, but I'm going to cut them some slack. We visited on the day after Christmas, so there were a lot of large families in the place. I'm anxious to return on a non-holiday weekend.

If I lived in Pottstown, I might even work to make myself a regular.

Saltie: Stormy Seas

After having it recommended to me several times, I finally tripped over to Saltie yesterday afternoon. Saltie is a tiny sandwich shop near Metropolitan and Havemeyer in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Sandwiches (with nautical names), drinks, and desserts are served there, so I settled in for a simple, two-course lunch.




I ordered a Scuttlebutt (sandwich), which turned out to be a beauty, built on attractive (focaccia?) bread and filled with what I identified as mozzarella cheese, black olives, capers, perfectly hard boiled egg, greens (including a lot of parsley), and something orange and fibrous that I assume was mashed sweet potato. An aioli sauce served as the dressing.

The combination of egg, greens, and sweet potato with the aioli was amazing. The focaccia bread-as-bun had a nice flavor, too, even if it was too much bread for me to eat (I find most sandwiches are too heavy on the bread, though, so this may be a personal thing). However, the capers and black olives made the sandwich incredibly salty and I ended up scraping most of them off.

I can't stress this next part enough: I like capers. I like olives. I love salt, and always thought I had a high tolerance for the seasoning, but apparently the chef at Saltie has a much greater love for the stuff than I do. She wins any "who likes salt more" competition, just by virtue of this one sandwich. I can't even come in a distant second. I understand that salt, and the interplay between salt and other elements, is an important component in their menu (hence the cafe's name), but if this sandwich is representative of the general "saltiness" level of every savory item at Saltie, it could be that none of the sandwiches here are right for me. I am surprised and humbled. 

I say this may be true of the savory menu items because I had a very different experience with the sweet part of my meal. When I turned to dessert, I found that the Apple Gallette I had chosen was not salty at all -- in a good way. I am sure there was salt in the pastry, but it didn't taste predominately of salt. Praise the heavens! The sweet pastry shell and sweet-tart apple filling came together in a way that was comforting, reassuring, and worthy of a little applause. Thank goodness for dessert.




I'd eat at Saltie again, and even try another sandwich for comparison's sake, but I have a feeling I'd be going back for the sweet -- not the salt.

[Please note that at least 4 of my good friends, who have very good taste in food, love this sandwich above all others at Saltie.  So I may have just gotten some particularly salty olives on the day I went.]

Eat at Ho's.

This place, Thunderbird Restaurant outside of Zion National Park, was not as much fun as its sign suggested, but I was too tired and dirty after two days of hiking and camping in Parunuweap Canyon to care.

I was also not hungry enough for pie, or to visit the soup/salad bar, though I did enjoy 3 of the 4 (two large and two teeny-tiny*) pieces of fried chicken I was served. I consumed two tiny pieces and one large piece, as well as all of the slightly congealed white gravy on mashed potatoes.

The vegetables on my plate looked weak. I decided to eat only the bland, blanched pieces that had touched gravy before my plate was set in front of me.

Everyone else I was with had mushroom swiss burgers, and they (the burgers) looked fine.


*Thank goodness for those two mutantly miniscule pieces of fried chicken. I couldn't believe that my fried-chicken-related menu choices were only 4 pieces of chicken or no chicken. I can't eat 4 pieces of fried chicken AND mashed p. with gravy AND boiled vegetables AND soup AND items from the salad bar! Get real.