Atlantic Chip Shop

“We’ll fry any packaged foods you bring in.” Those words are enough to bring a devilish grin to my face, conjure up ways to corrupt my diet, put fear in the eyes of physical trainers everywhere, and remove any good standing I have earned with my cardiologist. But fortunately, Mount Sinai Hospital wasn’t close enough for him to scold me.

Colossal amounts of traffic aren’t enough to deter me from trying a place, but it can certainly discourage a return visit. So after driving for nearly ninety minutes for a ride that should have taken twenty-five, my objectivity had been overshadowed by frustrations. Nevertheless, a total of five others agreed to tag along as we continue to become experienced gourmands.



The Atlantic Chip Shop has media and Zagat ratings to support its reputation. Time Out magazine ranked it the best “fish and chips” in New York. Located on Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn, NY, this is the sister store to the flagship restaurant (named the Park Slope Chip Shop) on Fifth avenue (also in Brooklyn). Festooned with all things British, this pub was covered with seemingly unsurprising memorabilia. The Union Jack was found in countless spots and while I’ve never traveled across the pond, it seemed authentic. This establishment is definitely a departure from the banality of our standard United States bar, which often lacks American regalia.

The restaurant’s flare was not overshadowed by the expected menu fare. Predictably, UK staples such as bangers and mash, steak and kidney pie, ploughman’s lunch, Scottish eggs, Sheppard’s pie, and of course fish and chips, all attracted our attention.

For an appetizer, I ordered the deep fried pizza ($3.50). I never thought of frying that either, but since this is a food frying paradise, it was worth a shot. Two slices arrived and I was ecstatic. I looked around the table to apprehensive faces, ignored the screams of horror from my arteries and dug in. The cheese was oozy and melty. The crunch of the fry batter was fantastic. It wasn’t too greasy and you could taste all of the components of the pizza slices. We passed it around, and the trepidation soon turned to pleasant surprise. Everyone enjoyed it.


Dry Blackthorn Cider

The Chip Shop also offers numerous microbrews so I tried their Dry Blackthorn Cider ($6). That was very good, and comparable to any of the alcoholic ciders you may find. This British version of cider was light and sweet and it did hit the spot. Beer enthusiasts might hesitate to classify it as a “beer,” and I would agree. But for a seldom drinker like myself, it was satisfactory.



All of the adults ordered fish and chips. Three of us ordered the cod ($12.00), and I ordered the haddock ($12.75). From an aesthetic standpoint, they are indistinguishable once they are fried, but the tastes are different. The cod is lighter and flakier, where the haddock was thicker and heavier. However, both were excellent. The fry batter didn’t get soggy and adhered to the fish well. I would have preferred that they let it drain just slightly, but I have a feeling they wished to get it out to us piping hot. You could also tell that the fish were lightly seasoned once they were taken out of the fryer as well. A dash of malt vinegar before every few bites made each mouthful sing brightly.

Each of the chips (French fries) were good. They weren’t huge steak fries or curly fries you’ll find at a hot dog stand. They weren’t perfectly crisp nor were they soggy. The chips were simply crisp and moist; more importantly appetizing. They served well as the supporting cast member of the dish, so that the fish remained the star. It was a complement and I prefer it that way.



The kids all ordered macaroni and cheese ($6). Served with a side of peas, this was a large portion for a kid of any size and shape. While this dish is standard comfort food fare, I found it rather impressive. It may be difficult to differentiate this mac n cheese from the kind you would find at a barbeque, but there are subtleties. The chef wouldn’t reveal the secret blend of cheeses that was used, but I didn’t detect any sharp cheddar or pungent bleu cheeses. The broiler had created a light golden crust of cheese on the top which added depth to the flavor profile. Each bite made you want even more. While the adults absolutely raved, the kids were less passionate. “The cheese seemed as if it wasn’t all melted” and “the taste seemed weird” were common responses to the British interpretation.



Our dessert round was where I amplified my likelihood of having bypass surgery. One of the trademarks of Chip Shop is that they will fry one any packaged good. And expectedly, that range will cover the creative to the disgusting; wherever you imagination takes you. We stuck with the menu offerings: A fried Snickers bar, fried Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, apple/black berry crumble with custard and two rice puddings. We decided against fried Twinkies, fried Oreos or fried Twix.

Served in a small, white bowl, the apple/black berry crumble was tremendous. The presentation was clean and neat. Not overly sweet, the custard provided a smooth complement to the sweet and plump berries. I also liked this dessert because it fits what I would think belongs on this menu. It was classy, uncompromising and but also simple. I would recommend this to others.

Fried Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups (two of them), came with dusting of powdered sugar. It was enjoyable, but for some reason, I was expecting the peanut butter to have been softened due to the deep fryer. And while I did enjoy it, it was just ok. The chocolate did manage to melt and provide a divine texture.



The fried Snickers bar puts you on cloud nine. The heat of the deep fryer creates a creamy interior of caramel and nougat. Different textures of crunch are experienced when you bite through the fry batter and into peanuts. I like it when the desserts like this are offered because it seems like a departure from the type of fare you’d expect in a British pub. And while that may not always work for the clientele, it fits here. It was unbelievable and the most popular dessert at the table.



Our server was kind enough to remind us that the rice pudding was served warm, and therefore not the bowl of poorly executed gelatinous goop you might find in careless diner. Everyone enjoyed the rice pudding, but a sweet touch could have enhanced it for my tastes. The warmth of the dish brought it distinction and was unobjectionable. However, I would probably pass on it next time.

Service was very good. Our server, who may have been the proprietor, was personable and amusing. He was kind enough to tell us about the success and joked about the things he has been asked to fry.

Dante may have had it wrong. One of the Circles of Hell should certainly have been fried food. It’s the culinary quagmire I find myself in more times than I choose to admit. It’s what makes Paula Deen’s recipes so mindboggling, and keeps fitness clubs in business.

For seven people, the total bill was an extraordinarily reasonable $117 before tip. I would certainly go there again, but probably on an annual basis. I was impressed with the whole experience and recommend it to others. The adventure was accompanied with a $115 parking ticket, because apparently, bus stops extend the length of a half city block now.

The Spotted Pig

There are the places people will really want to try, places they wish to avoid and places they’ve never heard of. The Spotted Pig in the West Village of Manhattan stands as a place I have heard of but that’s where it ended.

The brainchild of owners Ken Friedman and chef April Bloomfield, The Spotted Pig fits the subcategory of “gastro-pub,” where it fuses English/Irish cuisine with Italian undertones. The result is noticeable appreciation for fresh ingredients on a menu that is not typical bar fare. The pick of many professional critics, the establishment is clearly an atypical dining experience. This wouldn’t be the place for the chowhound to carry out gluttonous behavior, but the portion sizes are considerably larger than your upscale eatery.

Joined by three others, we sat at the bar in the recently renovated second floor, which increases the capacity to 100 seats.

For our appetizers, we ordered deviled eggs ($3), pork cheeks, and Shibumi oysters ($36); I’ve never heard of them either.



The deviled eggs were excellent. The implausible price was explained when an order consists of only two. Covered in chives, the eggs were well seasoned, creamy and delicious.


Pork Cheek (gone before the camera made it out)

Served with dandelion greens, pork cheeks are the type of dish that rewards you for taking culinary risks. These divine jowls fell apart at the touch of the fork. The fattiness of the dish caused it to melt in your mouth. The dandelion greens kept bitterness and bite that flawlessly contrasted the meat. Split three ways, this completely unhealthy but utterly irresistible appetizer was magnificent.



We could have ordered six oysters for $18, but that’s just impractical. It was for two people. Perish the thought. The raw oysters were brought on the clichéd tray of ice with lemon juice and mignonette (shallot, cracked pepper and vinegar sauce) accompaniment. Each mollusk was perfectly shucked and cleaned. The sauce provided a depth of flavor to the smooth natural consistency while the minced shallots added a mild crunch to the dish. I was afraid of an acid redundancy with the lemon juice and vinegar from the mignonette, but was pleased when it did not. Without restraint, however, you could easily overpower it with too much of either. When my half was complete, I realized I could easily have slurped down a whole order.



For my entrée, I ordered the Cubano sandwich with mixed baby lettuces ($17). I am a huge fan of Cubans and have had many including making them myself. Classically, the sandwich has glazed ham, roasted pork, Swiss cheese, pickles and yellow mustard on Cuban bread. Some versions will mistakenly use mayonnaise. Chef April Bloomfield’s interpretation might upset traditionalists with the additions of chopped jalapenos and diced cornichons. While I can appreciate Bloomfield’s efforts to be unique, the jalapenos were excessive. The sandwich also utilized a gruyere cheese, a commonly used and emphatic upgrade to Swiss. It is nuttier and more savory. This added distinct intensity to the sandwich. Overall, the sandwich was very good. The side dish was not actually mixed baby lettuce but an arugula salad. It was extraordinarily fresh, but perhaps just slightly overdressed with its lemon juice and oil. The acid seemed overkill as an unconventional palate cleanser. Perhaps it would have not felt that way had I eaten some between bites of the Cubano.



My brother and friends all ordered the Chargrilled Burger with Roquefort Cheese and Shoestring potatoes ($17). One was rare, one was medium and the last was a sacrilegious medium well.

Two of the three burgers were topped with Roquefort. This French cheese is sharper but softer than its similar British counterpart Stilton. In terms of cooking comparisons, you could easily substitute it with American Maytag Blue and achieve the same flavor profile. I prefer much milder bleu cheeses than the pungency of the French one. The burgers were perfectly plump and cooked precisely to order. The buns had prominent grill marks, making ideal presentation. The meat was very good, but not over-the-top spectacular. The Roquefort is really what makes the burger, the burger.

Maybe shoestring fries make you feel less guilty about eating large quantities. They are light, crispy and fun to eat. Conversely, there are its downsides, which I suspect my friend dislikes about them. They get cold very quickly, and do not have much substance to them. It is also conceivable that they go much quicker.

The classic burger and fries combo works here as it does in most cases. The chef’s personality is evident here too. But again, without the cheese it is just good.



We sampled some of their beers too. Pork Slap Beer (a pale ale) was available in the can only. You could take it or leave it. On draught was Spotted Pig Bitter. After much finagling by the bartender, the beer taps worked and it was flowing. This was more enjoyable than the Pork Slap, but not write-home-about-it impressive.

I was incredibly surprised at the co-ed bathroom. I saw both sexes enter and exit at the same time. That certainly might throw some unsuspecting patrons for a loop. Don't know if it's trendy or what, but I don't think that's very popular.

All told, with drinks included, the bill was $171 before tip. The cost was steep, but taking into consideration the cost of alcohol in the city, it price isn't that far fetched. The Spotted Pig is a great hole-in-the-wall you would never expect has the reputation it does from the outside. But I was satisfied with the meal overall.

Katz's Deli

Behold the pantheon of Jewish delicatessens. Standing as THE standard for all blue-collar delis for over 120 years, Katz's Deli is untouchable in quality, service and legendary reputation. And much like the mongers at the Pike Place Fish market who toss fish, it is an experience you will not soon forget.

Name your "best of" TV show and Katz's very likely is in the top ten. All the positive press is deserved. There are FEW adjectives that can accurately describe this food. A favorite Seinfeld episode of mine is "The Soup Nazi". In the episode, one character describes a soup as being so good that she has to sit down to eat it. I feel the same way about this sandwich. My legs would surely have buckled If I were guilty of believing the foolish notion that I can stand and consume it.

Located in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, Katz's is also tourist attraction. Much like the Statue of Liberty (which is only 2 years older), you should expect long lines, probably complaints and characters of all shapes and sizes.

Make no mistake...this is exclusively a chowhound experience, and for good reason. The portions are large but manageable. This isn't like Harold's Deli (Edison, NJ) where one sandwich can serve a family of four or a pancake is the size of a small pizza. And while Harold's serves great food too, Katz's serving sizes don't glorify the ridiculous.

I made sure to eat a small, healthy and early breakfast, so by midday the hunger pangs are unbearable. Enough where I can sink my teeth into a sandwich. My sister (in-law) joined me for the excursion as did a close friend who works in the city. I was thrilled to have a copilot to navigate into the city and appreciative that a friend would take a late lunch in the interest of food journalism.

The place was absolutely packed. Throngs of people enveloped the dining room but I was still optimistic to find a table. My sister and I were given tickets and we proceeded to the sandwich line. We ordered three sandwiches: turkey on rye, lettuce, mayo (my friend); brisket on rye with light mustard (me); and corned beef on rye with mustard (sister). As we ordered each, the sandwich virtuoso (no, there isn't a better name) gave us a small sample of the meats for each. And before one erroneously equates this to the grocery store sample of crappy cheese sliced by the high school kid with his mesh hat, just stop it. This is on another level period. The food is taken from the oven at that moment and sliced in front of you. That's right. The briskets and whole turkey breasts last MINUTES before they need a new one. This tiny morsel titillated my taste buds and the agony to have the whole meal engrossed me. We moved on down the cafeteria-style line and ordered drinks and fries.

I didn't take any time to absorb the spectacle that is Katz's Deli and dug into my food. I paid little attention to the photograph covered walls and tiny bathroom doors. Simply, this food was completely unprecedented.


Brisket

My brisket sandwich was exquisite. The meat was juicy, piled high, bursting out of the sandwich and flavorful beyond belief. This is a: "melt in your mouth, can't put it down between bites, I've forgotten I'm on a diet," culinary delight. The meat stood out as the obvious star of the dish with an able supporting cast. The rye bread was soft, warm, and strong enough to absorb the juices but not take away from the focus on the beef. If I had breathed between bites, I would have surely felt the juices dripping down my chin. But I was unable to give it the chance.



Turkey

My friend's turkey sandwich was spectacular. He commented that the turkey was moist throughout which speaks volumes because turkey can very easily become dry. The rye bread, as with all of our sandwiches, was able to stand up to the turkey. He pointed out that the price is partly due to its status as a tourist attraction, but certainly worth it. I agree.


Corned Beef

My sister had her head on straight when she ordered their trademark dish. And for good reason. You could actually smell the succulence as the aromas wafted across the table. The thick slices allow you to actually taste the "bark" or "crust" that is created in a slow oven roast. The gigantic cuts of beef also set it apart from all others. It cures for thirty days and the pickling spices do a tremendous job. It creates an insatiable flavor profile. This was obvious as she had fallen silent when it was being eaten. The food had taken her breath away. My sister said that it was a "belly full of goodness." Indeed.

We were also given a plate full of pickles and a mountain of french fries. The half sour and mild/sweet pickles contributed a fresh but salty component to the meal. I enjoyed the half sour ones much more.

It's perplexing why neither my friend nor I ordered the pastrami. But that just encourages another visit. It will be soon.

When we finished, we proceeded to checkout. Each sandwich was $14.95. The drinks were about $2 each and the fries were $5.00. It brought our grand total (after taxes) to $62. Sure you might wait a few extra minutes on a long line, but a patron should must understand that patience is price for perfection. And yes, you are partly paying for the spectacle. But if you don't like it, go to Subway.

No review of Katz's would be complete without a reference to When Harry Met Sally and Meg Ryan's "inspired" reaction to the food. I don't feel like making any erotic analogies, (particularly after my Chart House experience), but I can certainly say that this food is stimulating to your taste buds. Inexplicably however, there was a cane laying across the table where the actors sat, I guess so some guy could sit there under the threat of assault.

Katz's is also renowned for it's slogan "send a salami to your boy in the army" (pronounced 'ah-mee' to make it rhyme), a program that began during World War 2 so that the owners could send food to their three sons fighting overseas. This program is still alive and well today. Any place that supports our armed forces earns points in my book.

I challenge you to find a better deli. Seriously. I'll go there. But save yourself the trouble and go to Katz's instead. Because I can guarantee that yours will be outclassed.

Chart House

Reputation should matter with restaurants. It’s what creates regulars and warrants good press. And since success is what you attract by what you’ve become, a top tier restaurant has much to live up to. But when a self-professed foodie feels that the reputation is largely disproportionate to the total experience, it hurts just a little more.

Maybe I’ve become a snob with food. Or perhaps my culinary expeditions have become so ambitious that any setback is an outrage of biblical proportions. It would be like buying tickets to the World Cup, making the trek out to the stadium and being appalled when a bunch of middle school kids come out to play the actual game. The game-play is atrocious and no apology is made for your time being wasted.

For my mother’s birthday, my wife and I wanted to treat her to an upscale dinner. On the level of Scalini Fedeli, The Frog and Peach, Chez Catherine or David Drake. David Drake is now closed, Scalini Fedeli isn’t open on Sundays, my mother worked at Chez Catherine and I gave up on the last one. So I selected the Chart House in Weehawken, NJ. Seafood – check. Ambience – check. Never been there before – check. Excellent reputation – check.

We were greeted by what a single-man might refer to as “hotties” or “potential” at the host stand. But for me, the obviously objective and happily-married blogger, I shall call them “professional greeters who deserve a glance when the wife isn’t looking.” They were courteous and professional and brought us to our table.

Initial service was very good. Our server was attentive and polite. She said that if we wished to order their signature hot chocolate lava cake for dessert, we should order it at that time. So we did and that set a positive tone.

We ordered the appetizers: lobster bisque (my wife), a $13 crabcake (me) and to split we decided on the fried calamari (pronounced “gal-a-maad” for all of the follow Italians). The bisque’s preparation was imaginative. It was served in a mini soup pot with a handle. My wife’s soup was velvety, creamy and had chunks of lobster. The thing about lobster bisque is that classical preparation uses lobster shells and stock to flavor the dish. There really shouldn’t be any chunks of lobster (or sometimes crab) in it except as a garnish. The expectation is that the natural flavors will permeate the soup enough. Additionally, there should be white wine or sherry to add a depth of flavor. The consistency is achieved through successive strainings through ever finer sieves finally passing it through a cheese cloth to filter out any little bits. I found that her soup was rich and creamy, but the existing lobster chunks were more than a garnish. I find this trend common nowadays. I think restaurants believe their patrons will appreciate (or perhaps expect) the chunks of lobster in such a dish. As for our overall impressions of the dish, my wife enjoyed it, I’ve had better in Palm Beach, and my mother found it satisfactory.

The fried calamari was standard. It was light and crispy and perfectly cooked. The grease from the fryer had been drained properly which is refreshing because I find it typical with this appetizer that it is rushed out too quickly to satiate a guest’s impatience, rather than let it stand for a minute. I liked that the tentacles were included in the dish too. I think it not only looks better but makes the dish more unique. We found that the calamari had a slightly fishy smell to it, indicating that it may not have been fresh. Nevertheless, this did not stand out as impressive.

The crabcake was very good. It was succulent and cut easily with a fork. More crab and not too much "cake" is always optimal and this was great. And while it did not have the pizzazz, flavor or hype of a Maryland crabcake, it was delicious nonetheless.

I ordered the Patagonian toothfish (better known as Chilean Sea Bass). To clear up any misconceptions, this fish was first marketed to the US by the Chileans, but it isn’t usually caught in Chilean waters. It is actually caught near Antarctica and is the trade name for one of two fish (the aforementioned and Antarctic toothfish.) It is also NOT on the endangered species list.

I have eaten Chilean Sea Bass in two forms previously -grilled and in sushi – and both were positively existential experiences. Using Limani (see 8/14/09) as the barometer of excellence, I would rate this dish a 3/10. While it was opaque, and therefore fully cooked, it was mediocre. It lacked refinement or finesse. It did not have that firm or crisp texture that broiling creates. A pan-sear/broil (and/or oven-roast) creates a textural contrast between the caramelization on the outside and succulence of the interior flesh. This preparation not only failed to achieve that but also did not bring out the natural sweetness of the meat. The accompaniment of perfectly cooked vegetables was unable to distract me from the inexperienced cooking. I can’t say that it was slimy, but it feel apart much too easily. I didn’t get the “buttery” quality they were hoping to achieve. I even contemplated returning it to the kitchen because it was probably undercooked. Usually when the flesh flakes, it falls apart easily but each piece has solidity to it. It was almost mushy and almost water-logged. I also felt that it needed salt which is saying a lot. I rarely salt my foods and this lacked serious flavor. That is not to say it needed an abundance of seasoning, but a dash of salt would have brought out the natural flavors appropriately. Like my mother's dish, it came served with fluffy, perfectly cooked, coconut-ginger rice. The starch was able to absorb some of the butter from the dish and gave it a nice taste.

My wife had the filet mignon with garlic mashed potatoes. It was cooked to a perfect medium-rare and seasoned well. She enjoyed it, but we’ve had better. It doesn't compare to Ruth's Chris, Roots Steakhouse, Sammy's Ye Old Cider Mill, or Peter Lugar. And while this may have been a step above standard, I am disappointed at the effort. The garlic mashed potatoes were average. The garlic permeated the side dish well, but it lacked a creaminess that would have enhanced the flavors and better complemented the meat. What upsets me about my wife's overall dish is, oddly enough, actually the nature of the restaurant. This is an upscale establishment with an alleged reputation for excellent seafood. So, if they are going to offer a non-seafood option, it should be spectacular. Why befoul the menu with an average dish? I do not believe doing so would take away from your seafood focus. It may even increase clientele. Everything should be top notch.

And then came dessert; the pies de resistance of our visit which can be never taken away. While awaiting the arrival of our hot chocolate lava cake, our server provided us with the dessert menus and take our coffee orders. She also explained the special, Champagne Sorbet with Masturbated Berries. That's correct ladies and gentleman! Not mascerated berries...but masturbated berries. I looked to my two dinner companions who had fallen silent. Maybe it was a Freudian slip on her part, but it was certainly as clear as day. The innuendos go without saying and we decided against that dessert. And while we did laugh hysterically when she walked away, we contemplated informing the manager discreetly of the error. And while it would have been our honest intention simply not to have that mistake made again for future guests, we figured that such a mistake may cost our server her job. Unfortunately, in retrospect, I feel partially responsible for turning her loose to unconsciously offend another unsuspecting guest who may be someone of status.

The chocolate lava cake was fantastic. The cake was moist and the ganache was heavenly. We split it between the three of us.

The bill was $225 including tip. Not worth that price...despite the server high jinks. If I return, I think I might have to bring my medieval food taster and AED. Because if I have another meal as disappointing as this one, and my serf keels over and dies, I might have a heart attack and my fiefdom will come to an end.

Roots Steakhouse

My brother recently made a comment that he wishes for New York quality restaurants in New Jersey.

Well, hello New Jersey benchmark. It’s nice to finally meet you. We’ve heard of the most renowned steakhouses in the tri-state area: Peter Lugar, Keens, Morton’s, Old Homestead, and many others. In New Jersey, Rod’s Steak (Morristown), Edward’s Steakhouse (Jersey City), South City Prime (Little Falls) are widely considered to be at the top of the heap. There are, of course, the commercialized ones that deserve recognition as well including Bobby Flay’s place in Atlantic City and Ruth’s Chris in Weehawken.

Personally, I’m partial to Sammy’s Ye Old Cider Mill in Mendham. But in my search for good steak I came upon Roots Steakhouse in Summit. It had received admirable ratings across the board so I figured we check it out.

Classical styling and a dining room full of businessmen first catch your eye. The bar is hopping and the bartenders are on their A-game. Mahogany paint gave it the ambience of a New York steakhouse and the hustle and bustle supported that sensation.

Our server greeted us quickly and then took our drink order. While we were waiting, our Fresh and warm rolls are almost immediately brought to the table. They are light and airy with a crisp exterior. The soft, nooks and crannies of the heated interior melt butter beautifully. They are deceitfully delicious in that you could easily spoil your dinner on two or three.

For our appetizers, we ordered the French onion soup (my wife) and colossal lump crab cocktail with avocado. Served in a martini glass partially, filled with ice, the meat was juicy, fresh and wonderful. The flavors were clean and balanced. I squeezed only some of the lemon on the crab to provide bright accents of flavor.

The French onion soup ($6.95) was good. Ordinarily, I find this soup very salty. However, this execution was more than just garden variety. The saltiness was balanced by the sweetness from the onions. The tang of the cheese was offset by the crispy bread that had not yet absorbed too much broth.

With side dishes being a la carte, we order spaetzle and sauteed spinach. With many "wiltable" greens, the chef has to be careful. It can very easily become mealy. I love spinach but too often does it suffer that consequence. Here, the spinach was perfectly cooked, and there was no indication of poor aftertaste. The garlic that game with it was poached so it’s pungency was lessened. I found this to be a letdown as I would rather the garlic’s natural boldness infuses the dish more dominantly. On the other hand, that subtle garlic flavor may appeal to many more than me.

My experience with and knowledge of spaetzle starts and ends with the TV show Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. So when it was served piping hot, covered in cheese and roasted garlic, I was confident. This was positively divine. The unification of flavors in this German noodle dish left me pining for more. Like any starch, you can fill up quickly, so I ate cautiously.

My wife ordered the 12oz filet ($32.95). It was a perfect medium rare. It had been seared ideally. The crispy crunch of the outside was amazing and the meat melted in your mouth. You can tell when the meat is high quality because it just tastes different. This had that characteristic.

Aside from bbq or short rib (or the occasional chicken wing) I'm not a fan of meat on the bone. I know it's much more tender and flavorful, which is why I'll happily cook in that style. But when it's served I much prefer not to have to navigate through a skeleton of bones or around one big one. It makes eating more of a chore than pleasure. I also find that bones will often create inconsistent cooking. And that's not desirable. However, taste overcomes almost all pesky hesitations. So I ordered the bone-in filet ($37.95). The meat was sumptuous and seasoned well. And although it suffered from my suspicions for inconsistent doneness (rare by the bone versus medium rare in the middle), I was still on cloud nine. The flavors were great.

Despite our stomach's being filled to capacity we ordered dessert. The waiter raved about their signature butter cake so we went with it. It is served with whipped cream, blueberry compote, and drizzled with clarified butter. After my first bite, it was clear that my pants' button needed to be undone. The cake was incredibly moist, warm and delicious. The blueberry compote provided a sweet, but not overpowering balance to the cake. With the butter contributing an unmatched richness, each delectable nibble confirmed the obligation to clean the plate. Perhaps one criticism could be the desire for slightly more compote but I feel it was appropriate. Nevertheless, this is one of the best desserts I have ever eaten.


Heavenly butter cake

The overall experience was excellent. The service was outstanding and the foot is memorable. While New York may not have met its match in the number of good steakhouses, Roots certainly manages to hit the nail on the head for those who wish to avoid irritating gridlock traffic when they aren’t gasping for breath because they were nearly clipped by an aggressive cabbie.

Cubanu

This most recent visit was my third to Cubanu; a restaurant located in downtown Rahway, New Jersey. Unfortunately, the third time was definitely not a charm, because it was overtly contradictory to the first two experiences I had there.

Home to David Drake, a restaurant with a spectacular reputation and tremendous press, Rahway has integrated new restaurants and residential developments in a clear municipal vision. Cubanu represents what can come out of an urban city undergoing aggressive gentrification.

This restaurant seems to highlight authentic Cuban-cuisine sensibilities but puts its own spin on it. It does seem to respect traditions but takes risks that I can usually appreciate. Their lounge plays jazz, salsa and typical music during the evening hours and I like. As a bonus, they even offer salsa lessons during the week.

The second time my wife and I visited, I ordered the same thing: Pollo Babalu – chicken breast stuffed with chorizo, maduros and goat cheese. It was served over a black bean puree. It was fantastic and extremely enjoyable. My wife felt the same way about her entrée, but I can’t remember what she ate. Regardless, I was thrilled to go back for the trifecta.

I was with a party of eight this time; six co-workers and my wife. We began with several tapas: croquetas, bacalitos, garlic shrimp and empanadas. Each appetizer was very satisfying and well prepared. The croquetas are minced ham and potato in a fried ball. It was nicely seasoned. The bacalitos are nothing more than cod fritters. I was happy to have try but was disappointed because I found them bland. The garlic shrimp was delicious and there seemed to be a collective feeling that the empanadas were merely average. They were, quite simply, forgettable.

For our meals, two friends ordered the Masitas (pork cubes friend with a garlic and onion mojo). One friend ordered the Mambo King (pork chops). My wife ordered the Camaron Enchilado (spicy garlic shrimp), and I ordered the Swordfish special. I can’t remember the last meal that was ordered.

Unfortunately, the feeling from the appetizers carried over to the meal. With the exception of my wife, everyone felt their proteins were almost universally dry and collectively disappointing. I was able to try both pork dishes and I felt that both sauces would have brought out incredible flavors had the meat not been overcooked. But due to the its dryness, it seemed more like an attempt to overcompensate for the ill preparation than a way to maximize an appropriate flavor profile.

My wife’s tiger shrimp was delicious. It came in a savory tomato sauce and was served with well cooked white rice. However, it was much to spicy for her and neither the menu nor the server were forthright about it’s intensity. That is a careless oversight. Regrettably, the spice was too overwhelming for my wife. And this is a spice that hits you a the end. On a positive note, I enjoyed it tremendously because, like the garlic shrimp appetizer, the shellfish were well prepared. She, as the case with all eight of us, did not enjoy our individual dishes.

For me, I was torn between the whole red snapper and the swordfish special. Truth be told, I wanted the red snapper but went with the servers recommendation for the special. I went with the special because my previous two experiences were positive, despite the fact that I ate the same thing the first two times. I was confident I would be impressed.

All of our dishes contained rice and most had somewhat sloppy presentations. My rice came in a pyramid shape but was falling apart upon arrival. I felt this poor execution indicated a lack of refinement and erroneous attention to detail. I had two swordfish filets which contained grill marks and a signature sauce. One filet was well prepared and the second was dry and chewy. This inconsistency was disappointing to say the least.

We spent nearly $350 for all eight of us. A few had cocktails and the rest had sodas or water. I can’t complain about the price because I feel it was not expensive. But with collective disapproval from poor preparation, I am discouraged. More than anything, I am upset about the inconsistency. For a restaurant to establish a stellar reputation, it needs to maintain constancy. I am not persuaded for a fourth visit.

Daisy May's BBQ

Like most Tri-State Area residents, I believe I am a great driver. Therefore, I scoff at the very existence of other automobile operators everywhere. Frequently navigating gridlock traffic apparently makes it unjustifiable for why people will drive at (or just below) the speed limit.

Of course, this sense of entitlement to a “king of the road” attitude, authorizes me to drive anywhere. Putting aside the notion that my argument is irrational, I believe this warrants continuation in my epicurean investigations.

As such, my most recent restaurant review comes from Daisy May’s BBQ in New York. I was with my brothers and father this time so we were able to happily eat like slobs; free of spousal judgments.

Located on the corner of 11th Avenue & West 46th St, this barbeque joint is probably the third most famous restaurant I’ve ever blogged about (Pat’s/Geno’s and Primanti Brothers). It is certainly the best barbeque I have ever eaten. And after this time, I look forward to see who will remove it from the it’s pedestal.

It was featured on Food Network’s The Best Thing I Ever Ate and has been Zagat Rated for the last 5 straight years. Since it was incomprehensibly left off of Travel Channel’s Top 100 Places to Chowdown Countdown, I begin to question the credibility of that show.

I guess I didn’t pay close attention to the TV program because I did not realize Daisy May’s uses family style tables; a practice of which I am not a fan. Perhaps it’s a throwback to southern barbeque or their way of maintaining authenticity. Regardless, I have no desire to rub shoulders with someone I never met before. But as you will see throughout this review, it doesn't matter.

The building is smaller than you might imagine and there is a single dining room with flat screen TV’s mounted on the walls. So if you are by yourself or are enjoying the food more than your date, you have something else you can view. Again..none of this matters.

You place your order at a counter and get two of their incredible side dishes. I like ordering at a counter because, at least for me, you feel more involved with your order. I don’t know why that matters, but at that moment, it did. My older brother and my father both ordered the jumbo beef rib. Yes, that was singular. And for good reason. When the rib is delivered, I started thinking of the town of Bedrock. Completely gigantic and perfectly cooked, I know realize that the monstrosity that tipped over Fred Flintstone’s car was now sitting on the plates across and adjacent to me. For a visual, it was almost as long as a paper towel roll. It was absolutely perfect. The meat was falling off the bone and blissfully succulent. The textural contrast between the crispy outside and tender, fall-apart meat is to die for.

I ordered the brisket. I expected sliced brisket drenched in a signature sauce. They slid my tray to me with my food on it. Served in the same container you’d get to-go Wonton Soup in at your local Chinese restaurant, the brisket was aromatic albeit a small portion than I expected. I wanted a portion comparable to the Brontosaurus rib my brother was devouring. It didn’t matter. Nor did it matter that the brisket isn’t sliced but chopped. And while I would have liked it sliced, the flavor is marvelous. Occasionally, barbeque is ruined because the meats are overdressed with sauces that take the dish one step beyond assertive flavors. This does not happen here. The brisket is far more filling than the portion would suggest, and it does it gradually enough where you don’t get stuffed too soon into the meal. I very quickly forgot it was served to me in a plastic container.

In terms of beverages, I also ordered the sweat tea which came in a thirty-two ounce mason jar. That rocks. It coincides with their unapologetic but original approach to food service.

My oldest brother ordered the Memphis dry rub ribs. They too, were fantastic. It seemed fitting he would order the dry rub because he has made ribs in a similar preparation at cookouts. And while I am not a fan of smoked ribs, this particular rack could have easily made me a believer.

I have not forgotten about the side dishes because quite frankly, they need a paragraph of their own. The macaroni and cheese is not the best I have ever eaten, but it was a seamless complement and appropriate side dish for barbeque. And all four of us wanted that as our side. The baked beans with burnt ends were delicious. The beans evoked flavors that epitomized “low and slow” and really demonstrates how attention can truly transform an ingredient. My father also ordered the collard greens which he said were rich in flavor and delectable. I have never been a fan of collard greens, however, like the dry rub ribs, these were pretty darn appetizing and almost made me a believer.

As is the case with many of the places I have visited in the interest of chowhoundery, Daisy May’s discards visual aesthetics, a waist staff, cozy dining sections and formal dinnerware in lieu of confidence. I love that attitude. They believe you will like their food so much that they can serve it to you in the restaurant-equivalent of a loin cloth. The food is that darn good. You will forget any nuances the most nitpicky, burgeoning food-writer would notice and just be taken to another place when you bite into the food.

The bar has been raised for barbeque. Until you have eaten at Daisy May’s and can say with certainty you know a better place, I have discovered the barbeque paradise. This place trounces your favorite. Period.

- Dave