Restaurant experiment: Fornino

Fornino

187 Bedford Avenue between North 6th and 7th Streets

Brooklyn, NY 11211

718-384-6004

Stacy declared that we had to try Fornino because their tagline is “the art and science of pizza.” I’m not sure what they qualify as science. Did they hole up in a lab and run experiments with all sorts of controls to determine optimal conditions for pie production and ingredient combinations? Forgot to ask. There were no references to published articles under each menu item, tsk tsk.  All right, I’ll stop.

Since it was such a warm day, we decided to sit in the enclosed back patio which was the same idea a lot of other diners were having. At Fornino, you aren’t served by any one person; it seems as though the staff swap duties/tables because I was a bit surprised when different hipster girls kept coming up to our table.

Stacy’s brilliant ideas consisted of ordering a pitcher of the fruit filled red wine sangria (white was also available) as well as the antipasti platter for $15. I was half expecting a sampler which would barely whet our appetites, but I was as wrong as humanly possible.

Because this is what came out (note the sangria in the background).

Oh, it was massive! A half of that could have easily been my dinner. I tried it all except the beets which I let Stacy consume. Beets and I don’t particularly get along. Highlights include the mozzarella balls, figs in the salad, and the beans. Well, everything mostly. The sopressata was a little too spicy for me, so Stacy took care of them for me. We make a good eating team. I wish I could find the names of everything somewhere online, but nothing’s coming up, so my hampered memory will have to do.

Unfortunately, I still had to contend with the small Trevisana pizza we had ordered. You know, I would have been fine with either/or; both the pizza and the appetizer were too much! The waitress made it sound like the small pizzas were the size of the personal pan pizzas you got from Pizza Hut with the Book It! program if anyone knows what I’m talking about.

But how could we resist? As is my mantra, you cannot go wrong with cheese and bacon. Make that goat cheese, drool. And sweet pearl tomatoes (I don’t know what they are called since the menu just referred to them as roasted tomatoes, but I like calling them pearls) were only making the pie even better. Yum yum yum. The radiccio I could do without, but it wasn’t anything major.  And I had to cut the crusts out of the consumption plan.  Don’t need no filler.

I’m sure any foodie with a pizza hankering could be sated here. The pizza selection is almost too unwieldy, and going with the science theme, I suggested to Stacy that Fornino should implement a flowchart to assist with your pizza selection. For reals. Though I was helped since I don’t like eggplant, and we nixed all the pizzas with that as a topping. Ick.  And clams because we weren’t too thrilled about clams on pizza.

OK Fornino, you get the delicious science stamp of approval from the scientistas.

Lesson time

I learned that pancetta AKA Italian bacon, is different from bacon AKA American bacon because it is cured but not smoked. Both Italian and American varieties are taken from the belly of a pig. And pancetta also often comes rolled up in a cylinder and is pronounced pan-SHEH-tuh. Whoops, I think I had been saying pan-CHETTA but now I know. (reference: http://www.foodsubs.com/MeatcureBacon.html)

Restaurant experiment: Pink Pony

Pink Pony

176 Ludlow Street between Houston and Stanton Streets

New York, NY 10002

212-253-1922

http://www.pinkponynyc.com/

Anyone who’s spent a span of time in Atlanta will agree with me that seeing the words “Pink Pony” recalls the infamous strip gentleman’s club down in the Dirty South. Which I have not been to. Let me make that clear! What a strange name for a Frenchy cafe, right? Now I’ve got that Ginuwine song in my head too. Oh dear.

No scantily clad women or reddish colored horses were to be found inside this restaurant. Just books. Lots of books. Lily approved of the library theme. We came right when the sunlight was pouring into the restaurant, giving the dining room a warm welcoming ambiance. There seemed to be too many waitstaff sitting around, having dinner. Our server seated Lily and I in the front corner, at a longish table, and we sat side by side by side. Tracks from The Velvet Underground and Led Zeppelin played in the background as we made our selections.

Since it was Thursday, and quail is available Thursdays, I successfully convinced Lily to order that dish but we were both annoyed when the waiter told us they didn’t have the small avians available. Tsk tsk. I am not thrilled when waitstaff do not mention item unavailable right off the bat. She opted for the salmon with green parsley risotto instead. I naturally gravitated to the burger, $12 or $13 with cheese. What kind of cheese was not disclosed. You did have your pick of shoestring fries or home fries. Shoestring for me, thanks. Here is a picture of what was presented to me, taken with my cell phone.

Hey, surprise salad. Good for me. Yeah, the menu descriptions could have used a little more description since I asked Lily about the plum-colored sauce her fish came in. Wine?

As for my burger, I was happy that raw onions were included. The shoestring fried were more like toothpicks. Super crunchy and thin. The patty was respectable, but my issue was with the cheddar cheese. I think its oiliness had leaked out all over, so that the whole bun was greasy. That’s not ideal.

Also not ideal is the cash only policy. A lot of these French bistros in the Lower East Side are cash only. Lame! Regardless, Pink Pony was prompt, gave us a decanter of water for self-serve, and had polite servers. Almost too prompt, since Lily and I had time to kill before going to see Tokyo! at the Sunshine. And then I had toilet seat trauma, but I’ll stop myself from going into that tragic tale.

Restaurant experiment: Krolewskie Jadlo

Krolewskie Jadlo (King’s Feast)

66-21 Fresh Pond Road at Palmetto Street

Ridgewood, NY 11385

718-366-6226

http://www.krolewskiejadlo.com/ (This is the link written on the business card I picked up, but there isn’t anything there.)

Even though I’ve eaten in Queens a decent number of times (the number can certainly be upped!), I’m still astonished by what values, edible-wise, are to be found in the people’s borough, as a girl I met referred to it. Value value value value. Manhattan needs more of that.

Krolewskie Jadlo reminds me of Medieval Times, but I have never been to Medieval Times, so it’s how I would imagine Medieval Times to be but on a much smaller scale. The first dining area is all high ceilings, knight’s suit of armor at the entrance, long wooden booths, chandeliers, and fake brick decorations. There is another seating area in the back. Tom and Wayne both ordered the sampler plate ($11) which included items like pierogis, stuffed cabbage, potato pancakes, and kielbasa. I wasn’t sure if my stomach was up for that hearty task, so I wimped out and played it safe with the beef goulash ($8) which came with mashed potatoes and a choice of two sides; I opted for the peas and carrots and cucumber salad. As we waited, bread came out, along with homemade pickles and a mysterious spread looking vaguely like condensed cream of mushroom soup. It was oily tasting but strangely addicting.

As I expected, Wayne’s and Tom’s plates were massive, and I don’t think they finished everything. I couldn’t even finish all of my goulash, even though I did fill up on the appetizer bread. The cucumber salad and peas and carrots were basic but pleasing, and I cleaned all traces of them from their plate. The goulash was quite tender, like something that had been thrown in the crock pot at low for eight hours. Its downfall was the lack of kick, of flavor, since I needed to shake salt all over that. A little too cautious for my tastes. The potatoes needed salt too. Maybe the cooks just forgot seasonings? Tsk tsk.

Regarding all the Polish places I’ve been to which happen to not be on the island (okay, only two), I’m going to have to go with Teresa’s over Krolewskie Jadlo. Lazanki, it’s time you and I got to meet up again, and by meet up, I mean eat up. I looked for noodles on Krolewskie Jadlo’s menu, but no noodles were to be located. Sad face.

Restaurant experiment: Hop Devil Grill

Hop Devil Grill

129 St Marks Place between First Avenue and Avenue A

New York, NY 10009

212-533-4468

http://www.hopdevil.com/

After celebrating the births of That Girl and This Girl by burning up the microphones at karaoke bar Planet Rose, the remainder of the celebrants strolled down Avenue A on a particularly mild April evening in search of a restaurant. Being as it was late on a Saturday night, the options were limited unless you wanted to wait hours, but no one wants to do that.

Hop Devil Grill came to the rescue, especially since Tex-Mex is usually agreeable to all sorts of guests. The place kind of fooled us since it had a secret annex attached to the restaurant, like its lounge/bar segment off to the door. What was annoying that the door that separates the restaurant from the lounge kept slamming shut whenever anyone would pass by. The host with the southern drawl and “ya’lls” seated us at some padded furniture at the calm back area of the secret annex.  How very A list!

Our waitress looked like she was about to go to a cocktail party after her shift, in a V-necked black dress. It was very abnormal eating dinner while in lounge seating. The small tables were too low to eat conveniently, so I followed Shanna’s lead and put my plate in my lap. Everyone agreed that the food was fine. I got kind of a college vibe from Hop Devil; the restaurant place would seem at home in any Division I football-centered college town.

The complimentary chips came with some sort of salsa/dip, but I didn’t try the dip. Since I ate too many cookies during karaoke, I tried to order something small. That happened to be the southwest chicken sandwich ($8.99): “cajun seasoned chicken breast, melted cheddar, crispy bacon, caramelized onions & chipotle remoulade.” This sandwich was a hot mess to eat with my hands and with that unique table situation. The bun was primarily to blame, somewhat wimpy. Had to use my fork and knife. The innards of the sandwich were heavy/oily. But cheese and bacon, how can you go wrong? You can’t. Your stomach is grumpy at you for a while, but it forgives you because it can’t be mad. That should be a rule: never pass up cheese and bacon.

All in all, That Girl and This Girl had a whale of a birthday party.  Cheers all around.

Restaurant experiment: Shimizu

Shimizu

318 West 51st Street between Eighth and Ninth Avenues

New York, NY 10019

212-581-1581

http://www.shimizusushi.com/

“One is the loneliest number that you’ll ever know.”

Oh, the irony of hearing that song play later during my evening! Due to certain circumstances, I ended up eating out by myself which is something I rarely do. In NYC, it’s rather acceptable but it is definitely more satisfying to eat with friends. Sigh.

I put on a brave face and entered Shimizu, which is located across from Braai where I went a couple of weeks ago. The sushi chefs and waitresses greeted me with strong and cheery rounds of “irashaimasen.” Since I was solo, I opted to eat at the bar where one of the two sushi chefs was chattering with a twosome in Japanese. A Japanese-run sushi establishment is always a positive sign. The other chef was standing closer to me, but he didn’t talk to me, and I didn’t talk to him.

The waitress was super attentive, and she whisked away every empty vessel the second I set it back down on the bar. I decided to order the prix fixe menu, which for $35 was a fair deal. You got your choice of soup or salad, appetizer, main, and ice cream. Shimizu’s space is on the modern side and very clean. I stared at an image of a fish under the word “sushi,” the backdrop for the sushi masters. What do people do when they dine solo? I didn’t feel like pulling a book out, and talking on the phone seemed crass. So I resorted to having conversations with myself in my head.

• Salad: Generous serving, with crispy cold veggies and plenty of ginger dressing. This salad was a little more distinctive with the addition of seaweed to the greens. I approved.
• Appetizer: I adore oysters on the half shell, so when I saw them on the menu, I made sure to get them. To my relief, it’s still an R month, and I was safe. The mollusks came out on a bed of ice, bathing in soy/vinegar dressing and scallions a plenty. After squeezing lemon juice on the bivalves, I slurped those suckers down. Mmmmmmm! I wish there were more.
• Entree: I always order my sushi platters without wasabi, so I was dismayed when there were smears of green under the pieces of fish. I decided to point this out to the waitress because I was unhappy and she seemed eager to please. She apologized a thousand times, and the chef made a new plate for me. The balls of rice were kind of on the small side so that the fish pieces flopped over, enveloping them like a tent.
• Dessert: This was when I decided that there was some kind of disconnect between myself and the waitress. Initially I said I wanted red bean ice cream but quickly changed it to green tea. She seemed to understand. After the sushi, I was presented with a scoop of red bean ice cream. I decided to not say anything about that, and I do like red beans so it wasn’t like the wasabi incident, but still. I’m not sure what was going on.

Once the ice cream bowl was taken out of sight, the waitress gave me a cup of tea. I don’t know if that was part of the prix fixe or some sort of peace offering for The Wasabi Incident of 2009. I drank it gratefully, as the ice cream froze me, and the tea thawed me.

Shimizu has some pros working in its favor. It’s close to Broadway theaters, reasonably priced, authentic with both Japanese employees and clientèle, and has fine sushi. The order snafus threw me off though.  And as for party of one dining, you focus more on the food and service and atmosphere, mostly because that’s all to focus upon!

Minty fresh bladder. Or, they weren’t kidding with the thin mints name.

I drink herbal mint tea here and there, but it takes a backseat to my passionate love affair with black tea.

But then I was presented with mint black tea. Of course I had to taste and assess.

I’ve noticed this for a long time, casually, always sort of in the back on my mind, though I never thought to look it up until now: after consuming mint in tea form, I’ve found myself wanting, rather needing, to use the restroom soon after. What the heck was going on?

Fears confirmed: mint is a diuretic.  But–mint doesn’t only increase the urge.

Mint members belong to the genus Mentha and include such gum flavors as peppermint (Mentha piperita) and spearmint (Mentha apicata). Other non-gum varieties include curly mint, pennyroyal, water/bog mint, apple mint, and pineapple mint (the last two, paging Orbit?). These herbs actually grow like babies and weeds: very quickly. I can attest to that because back when I actually liked gardening (aka childhood), my mint plant commanded the garden and was out of control. Naughty square-stemmed flora.

According to Roman mythology, underworld ruler Pluto became smitten with a hottie nymph called Minthe. Pluto’s wife Proserpine was understandably not keen on this development and turned Minthe into an unassuming plant. Pluto couldn’t reverse the spell, but he at least made Minthe smell nice when people crushed her with their feet.  Minthe=Mentha.

Wow, mint is so handy. It helps your stomach when you’re sick and helps digestion in general. We use it to enhance foods and drinks. It scents things. Soothes insect bites. And hey, it smells delightful.

If you have a rodent issue, toss mint at them!

Mint is also the herb of hospitality. Note to self: next housewarming party, serve mint juleps and Thin Mints.

References

• http://urbanext.illinois.edu/herbs/mint.html
• http://www.botany.com/mentha.html
• http://www.herbsociety-stu.org/Mint.htm

Restaurant experiment: Ramen Setagaya

Ramen Setagaya

141 First Avenue between East 9th Street and St. Marks Place

New York, NY 10009

212-529-2740

Setagaya–a neighborhood in Tokyo (because you guys asked me what it means)

Stacy was in the mood for non-demanding comfort food, and she concluded that Asian noodles fit the bill. I agreed. There are a couple of Ramen Setagaya shops in the city, but we ended up at this one, and this place over other ramen purveyors since it was the first one we/I spotted in the cab.

The restaurant is glassy. And smallish. And there’s a Korean place hidden in the back. And if you’re unlucky, you have to wait in the line to be seated. Right off the bat, you can’t turn your head without looking at signs telling you that Ramen Setagaya is cash only. Well, that’s thoughtful. Flatscreens play a loop of self-promotional material straight from the Land of the Rising Sun. Max pointed out that it wasn’t really necessary; we’re already sitting here, right? I guess it’s just to emphasize that RS is a Japanese chain, direct from Nihon. Authentic and all.

Right. They should play Human Tetris or Most Extreme Elimination Challenge instead. Silly Japanese gameshows would complement steamy slurpy stuff perfectly.

The three of us all ordered either combo D1 or combo D2 for about $13, 14 each. Along with your ramen, these options let you select a side; Max and I elected for the meat gyoza (sorry I tried to steal your portion, dude!), and Stacy went with the curry rice. She had kind things to say about the curry rice. I found it interesting that you could only get pork with your ramen. It’s either the other white meat for you or nothing. As a consolation prize, you could have that pig meat BBQed, but it’s still pork. But why am I going on about that? I like pork. I was okay, no qualms.

I haven’t been to many ramen shops in the city. However, I have paid Momofuku Noodle Bar a Halloween visit and fancied the noodles but the broth had enough salt to coat the streets of all five boroughs prior to a snowstorm. Would Ramen Setagaya suffer the same salty fate? Suprisingly no, and it turned out I found that a little more sodium chloride might have helped. Hello, soy sauce. My friend! The gyoza was average, but I liked the goodies in the soup bowl with the noodles: seaweed, salted duck egg style chicken egg, bamboo! The pork was delicate and fatty, rock on. But yeah, the broth. It’s like Goldilocks: too salty, not salty enough. Still have yet to encounter just right. That shall be my quest, or one of my food quests.

Stacy and Max were champs and went for the mochi ice cream, and I was offered a bite which was all I could manage since my stomach was saying no no no. Better than Trader Joe’s mochi ice cream, which I recall didn’t impress me all that much.

Post-dinner activities led me to conclude that ramen+gyoza provide ample sustenance for a budding pool shark.

Beethoven’s Fifth Disease

Shout out to Laura, the impetus for the post.

When Laura queried me about Fifth disease, and if I had ever heard of it, I was baffled. Fifth disease? Is there a First, Second, Third, Fourth illness too?

Bad joke aside, Laura told me what she knew about the disease; it make children flush persistently, like they had been slapped. Basically, it sounded unappealing, but what sickness is?

Fifth disease is the only human parvovirus, Parvovirus B19. If you put “parvovirus” into Google, you get a lot of dog-related pages. But you can’t catch Fifth disease from your dog or cat or other animal pal. Parvoviruses are some of the teeniest viruses out there, topping out the yardstick at a whopping 20 to 25 nanometers. For my biomedical pals, they’re single stranded in the DNA department and fond of making hairpins.

The disease primarily affects children, and children are the most contagious even before they exhibit the trademark scarlet face. It sounds much like a cold; it’s spread in the same way, and other symptoms in kids can include fever and tiredness, along with a sometimes itchy rash on the body. Adults have it rough though because they will get joint pain. Usually the illness goes away on its own, lasting from about four to fourteen days. During this time, affected individuals should stay away from pregnant ladies due to possible anemia in the offspring and possible miscarriage. Some lucky people are immune or show no symptoms. Nice.

But what I really really want to know about fifth, AKA erythema infectiosum, is why is it called that?

Answer: in ye olden days, wee ones were plagued by five different skin rashes.

1. Rubeola (measles)
2. Varicella (chicken pox)
3. Rubella (German measles)
4. Roseola (controversy! also called sixth disease?)
5. Parvovirus B19

Fun lab fact: the parvovirus is named B19 because of how the lab researcher labeled plates!

References

• http://www.emedicinehealth.com/fifth_disease/article_em.htm
• http://www.fifthdisease.org/
• http://www.stanford.edu/group/virus/parvo/2000/parvovirus.html
• http://www.cdc.gov/ncidod/dvrd/revb/respiratory/parvo_b19.htm
• http://www.cdc.gov/ncidod/dvrd/revb/respiratory/B19&preg.htm
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parvovirus_B19

“It’s not hip-hop, it’s electro.”

Thanks to Wayne for suggesting this post.

The non-alcoholic beverage world seems to be buzzing with the word “electrolytes” again.  Do I know what they are?  Not really.  Wayne rattled off a list of them on a bottle of water of brand water, and I heard the word “chloride” tacked on to some elements, so I deduced that they were salts.  Yeah, that’s basically all I remember from chemistry.  Chemistry is not exactly my friend.

An alternative name for electrolytes is serum chemistries.  Hmm, just doesn’t have that zing that electrolytes has.  These electrolytes hang out in your blood and other bodily liquids, and as their name would suggest, are charged. 

Macrominerals–crazy important for your body to have, and these players include calcium, chloride, magnesium, phosphate, potassium, and sodium.  You also need heaps more minerals but not so much of them (microminerals?).  Oh okay, they’re dubbed “trace minerals.”  Macrominerals keeps the brain, muscles, heart, and bones all content and working properly.

Electrolytes consist of some macrominerals and these fellows are necessary for muscle and nerve functioning.  They also make things fair and balanced in the fluid world because it’s not desireable to have too much fluids going on or too little in regards to within cells, around cells, and in the blood.

The kidneys are the managers here.  An apt analogy might be one of a nightclub bouncer.  If the club’s lifeless (not enough fluids), the kidney bouncers let in some electrolytes.  If the dance floor is wall-to-wall (bloated), the kidney bouncers keep the charged substances out.  If there are some troublemakers, they get tossed out with the garbage (in the urine).  Okay, I think you get the idea.

Hey kids, don’t get dehydrated. 

AmyL: name the movie the post title is from!

References

• http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/article/002350.htm
• http://www.merck.com/mmhe/sec12/ch155/ch155a.html