Restaurant experiment: Han Bat

Han Bat

53 West 35th Street between 5th and 6th Avenues

New York, NY 10001

212-629-5588

After shopping at Macy’s, Lily and I ended up with Korean for dinner because hey, K-town is right there.  Avoiding the madness of the Korean restaurants on 32nd Street, we ambled up to 35th Street (Lily’s idea).  Han Bat was next to a couple of other places.  Folks were waiting around for tables, but we were seated right away.  Sometimes it pays to be a party of two!

I was actually focused on what I wanted and not overwhelmed by the multitude of choices, so I suggested to Lily that we get the scallion pancake and some meat.  Han Bat only had a scallion pancake with shellfish (pajun), and I would have preferred no squid, but whatever.  Meat-wise, we got the bul go ki.

I always forget about the free appetizers.  Too much spicy stuff.  I stuck to the non-red items and foisted the red items onto Lily.  Good veggies: zucchini and bean sprouts.  The squares in the middle, we couldn’t figure out.

The pajun was tasty, and its inside was 90% scallions and squid versus the bready part.  We had to share one small bowl of rice though which wasn’t the best thing.  What can you do?  It’s NYC after all. 

 

The bill was about $40 per person.  If only Korean food were slightly cheaper!

Restaurant experiment: Yo In Yo Out

Yo In Yo Out

1569 Lexington Avenue between 100th & 101st Streets

New York, NY 10029

212-987-5450

http://yoinyoout.com/

As That Girl says, the name is just bad.  I don’t get what the owners were going for with that.  Yo In Yo Out isn’t a take away place, and it’s not the epitome of speediness.  A mystery.

Lily and I stepped into Yo In Yo Out (YIYO) as the first diners of the evening.  The enthusiastic owner/hostess/waitress made us feel welcome, no doubt.  The space also features a sitting area, much like a coffeehouse.  So YIYO could have that going on for it.

I ordered the truffle croque monsieur.  Yo In Yo Out’s version featured the gruyere cheese on top of the brioche.  Ham & cheese, failproof!  So not stingy with either, as you can see.  The side salad was fine, just your basic salad.  I like potato chips.

To my surprise, I had some room for dessert and hemmed and hawed over my options at the dessert case.  I finally chose one of the specials of the day, the raspberry tart.  I was expecting something a little sweeter than what I was actually consuming.  The nutty (almondy) base was thick and not too sweet.  Pretty presentation, no?

As time passed and more people filled into the eatery, the service seemed to decline.  I think they could benefit by adding at least one more waitperson since there were major lags between servicepoints (water refills, getting the check, etc).  Then it was a little awkward because the owner lady was talking to her kitchen staff about scheduling issues (the kitchen is open).  Um, maybe that should be discussed after hours.

In summary, be sure to stop by Yo In Yo Out when you are in a particularly patient mood!

Restaurant experiment: BXL Cafe

BXL Cafe

125 West 43rd Street between Broadway and Sixth Avenue

New York, NY 10036

212-768-0200

http://bxlcafe.pregraphic.com/

I’m doing good with the Belgian places in NYC. Here’s another one to assess.

BXL was on Lily’s Yelp bookmarks, so we gave it a shot because we were in the Times Square area. Let me tell you, shutting down the traffic that feeds into the square is totally boss. It makes an already unbearable area much improved.

Lily and Jesse ordered beers and burgers. I expressed my disappointment that they decided not to go with cheese on their burgers. For shame! Note: they wanted me to specifically mention this in my writeup.

As for yours truly, I ordered the American Prepare or steak tartare if you will, for $17. I must admit I prefer the raw meat that Le Singe Vert serves up since BXL made it too peppery/mustardy for me. The fries were seasoned well and crunchy, but that all went downhill after they cooled off. Lily agreed. Note to self or to people going here and planning on chowing down on fries: eat them while they’re hot.

I stole sips from Lily’s Lindemans Framboise: “spontaneously fermented raspberry lambic. Very sweet, perfect with dessert. 5%.” Suggested by the waitress with the Eastern European accent. Dessert beer? Now that’s a concept I can fully support.

BXL was hopping with the post-work happy hour crowd, but that tapered off. Not too many tourists for that part of town though. It was still noisy with chatter, and if you’re into sports on the television, BXL can help you out there. I don’t know much about the beer selection, but it seemed adequate enough.

Restaurant experiment: Lombardi’s Pizza

Lombardi’s Pizza

32 Spring Street at Mott Street

New York, NY 10012

212-941-7994

http://www.firstpizza.com/

I was stoked to knock off two New York institutions in one night (the other being Katz’s). And no waits and throngs of tourists. Score!

Usually I am on my burger quest, but now I’ve taken a wee detour into a pizza quest. Lily was hungry, we were in Soho, I suggested Lombardi’s. That worked. On the way, we saw a dalmatian at the FDNY station. Novelty.

The hostess was wearing some earpiece like a Secret Service telemarketer combo. We were seated in the first dining room; I was surprised at how large Lombardi’s is. There was an obnoxious large group which needed to shut up, especially the loud talker man. After some deliberation, Lily and I agreed to share a small pizza with sauteed garlic spinach; it won out over roasted red peppers.

And was that the right choice or what? Totally appetizing. Marvelous sauce and fresh mozzarella. The center of the circle’s crust wasn’t falling apart. The outer crust was a tiny too much floured, but no biggie. The spinach brought the pizza to a whole new level. It all worked. It’s like one of those days where the sun is shining, it’s not too humid, you are wearing a new snazzy outfit, you left work early, and you excited about meeting friends for dinner at a place you picked out (wait, that’s me). Modify that to your liking.

It was about $20 total. Cash only, sigh. I might wait fifteen minutes in a line for Lombardi’s. Generous, because I dislike waiting in lines. This just well maybe perhaps might be the best pizza in Manhattan??? At the very least, it’s the oldest parlor in the US, birthed in 1905. Ancient!

Restaurant experiment: Katz’s Delicatessen

Katz’s Delicatessen

205 East Houston Street at Ludlow Street

New York, NY 10002 

212-254-2246

http://www.katzdeli.com/

I haven’t seen When Harry Met Sally in years, but I finally saw it in college.  My roommate at the time declared she was envious because she wanted to be able to see When Harry Met Sally for the first time again.  Meg Ryan’s face used to be normal back then.  Now, it’s just plain frightening.

Now I’m only reminded of that movie because I went to Katz’s Deli the other day with Lily.  Since it was early evening on a weekday, the place wasn’t very crowded; I’ve strolled by and seen it stuffed to the gills.  It’s like stepping into another era inside.  The place just is old, with pictures of famous folks up on one wall, right above the wait service only side.  You’ll get chastised if you countered and try to sit down there.

Katz’s is confusing for no good reason.  Once you enter, a bouncer gives you a ticket which you can’t lose, or you have to pay $50.  Then you have to go into a cutter’s line to get your sandwich.  If you want fries or drinks, you have to wait in a different line.  And you sit down in the cafeteria space and pay at the end, turning in your ticket marked with your purchase.  There are probably some ways of making that process less head scratching.

While you’re waiting by the cutters for your sandwich, they give you extra pieces of meat to nosh on while you’re waiting.  And then there’s a fat side of pickles that go along with the sandwich.  Later I realized that those things were salty as heck as I scrambled to quench my thirst with water. 

Warm pastrami on rye with mustard.  Yummy.  Though hot dog-ish.  One hour wait yummy?  No.  Thirty minute wait yummy?  No.  Ten minute yummy?  Yeah, all right.  I asked for a ticket as a souvenir after I turned it in, but that was a no go.  Huh?  They sure are psycho about their tickets.

Restaurant experiment: Motorino

Motorino

319 Graham Street at Devoe Street

Brooklyn, NY 11211

718-599-8899

http://www.motorinopizza.com/

The picture is gigantic on delicious purpose.

I didn’t have a choice in the matter; it was destiny. It was fate. Last week, the heavens were telling me to go to Motorino.

• My Newsweek from last week contained an article, “Save the Slice,” which mentions Motorino. The article was kinda dumb though.
• My Time Out New York from last week did a mini-writeup about Motorino in a section about pizza.
• And I was slated to be in Brooklyn that weekend anyway.

Since Lily, Nina, and I showed up at a funky time (mid-afternoon) on Sunday, Motorino wasn’t very crowded. I’m not sure how crowded it gets, but with all these articles and buzz, I’m sure the traffic has been heavier as of late. We were given the option to sit in the backyard but since the sun was in full force, we opted to stay in the main dining room by the open doors. The staff is very helpful and genuinely affable. It’s Williamsburg, ya know? So that was surprising.

There was a $10 brunch which I didn’t select mostly because it offered two liquids and I didn’t want to drink much (non-alcoholic but alcoholic for $3 more). I opted for a pie for myself, and Lily ordered one for herself. The Prosciutto di Parma ($12) featured parmiggiano, olive oil, and oregano, though I maintain that my pie was meatier than hers and more filling. Nina commented that they sure were generous with the prosciutto, and I concur. See the evidence above. The crust was outstanding! The right amount of burnt combine with a hint of cheese, aw yeah.

Lily’s pie was sort of like the flagship Motorino pizza: the Margherita DOC ($13). That baby had tomato, mozzarella di bufala (tangy buffalo cheese), and basil. She and I slice exchanged, and I also approved the message the Margherita DOC was expressing. Very thin dough in the center though. Typical New York.  Lily also had wanted lemonade and was offered some lemon drink ($3) which was astronomically sour, meaning I loved it or at least the sips I stole.

In the battle of the Williamsburg pizza parlors, I might have to side with Fornino but I still like you lots, Motorino.

Restaurant experiment: Le Singe Vert

Le Singe Vert

160 Seventh Avenue between 19th and 20th Streets

New York, NY 10011

212-366-4100

http://lesingevert.com/

Rain rain go away.  Lily and I had wandered over to The Green Monkey after checking out the Rubin Museum nearby.  At least this place makes it blatantly clear that they take only American Express or cash.  Lame.  Poor Lily had to deal with the rain again to pay a visit to an ATM.

Le Singe Vert has the closest seating that I’ve seen in New York.  I did not feel like a party of two, rather a party of six.  The tables were seriously three inches apart.  I was sitting in the booth part, and I could not escape unless a worker helped me push the table out.  C’mon now.  Just take out one two top!  It won’t kill you.

To my left were two gay men on a “get to know you” date.  Since I couldn’t help it, I heard their chats, and 90% of the conversations were about Broadway.  To my right were a middle aged white man and younger Asian woman.  The man was annoying and sounded like Gary Marshall which adds to the annoyingness.

I ordered the le steak tartare ($19.50) which was billed as “raw beef tartare with capers, shallot, cornichons, mustard, quail egg, french fries, and baby greens.”  It was quite temping to get my usual burger, but I should take a break from burgers, as difficult as it is to say.  The free bread’s crust was too tough-chewy, and they needed to make the slices thinner since they were as thick as they were wide. 

The visual.  I play with camera settings and am still rewarded with bleached out photographs.

So I haven’t consumed steak tartare all that much, but I’m venturing into its realm.  It’s like getting into a new band; you’ve heard one of two songs but know you need to take the plunge and buy some albums.  Raw meat is so yummy when it’s mixed up with all that stuff.  Raw beef and raw egg and mustard?  What a manly meal.  The fries were wonderful (crispy, not too thick, seasoned/salty) except for the fact that they should have been hotter.  The greens were your standard greens.  Lily’s chicken was pretty tender and she gave it her seal of approval.

Le Singe Vert: non-human primates skinnier than a toothpick, drop on by!

Restaurant experiment: Tagine Dining Gallery

Tagine Dining Gallery

537 Ninth Avenue between 39th and 40th Streets

New York, NY 10018

212-564-7292

http://www.taginedining.com/

Lily, Afua, and I were going to knock pins down at the bowling alley in Port Authority, but they were being snotty and treated us like second class citizens because we wanted to use a coupon.  And it didn’t help that Goldman Sachs rented out 92% of the lanes for a fundraiser.  Boo, i-bankers.

Nuts to that.  Accepting that bowling was not to be, we strolled over to Hell’s Kitchen and ended up at Tagine Dining Gallery for dinner (Afua’s suggestion).  I wasn’t too pleased that the door was open and smoke was wafting in since some puffers were standing right by the opening.  Boo, smokers.

The atmosphere is welcoming, a blend of family rec room and Morocco.  Our waitress, a blonde chick with an Eastern European accent could have been more attentive.  Sweet fruity smells from the hookah at a nearby table drifted over.

The downfall of this place is that the prices are awful.  Can we say overpriced?  $16 for a margarita?  That better be the size of the Empire State Building and potent as hell.  Even speakeasy mixology bars like Pegu Club and Employees Only aren’t that costly.

As I grumble about the price tags, at least the food earned notice.  Afua and I split an appetizer called khobiza which consisted of “spinach, kale and collard greens, sauteed in garlic and lemon.”  It came with warm circular bread and dipping sauces.  Greeny indeed.  This was around $9.25 or so.

I suggested getting the bastilla, “pheasant pie delight. Stewed pheasant in saffron broth topped with almond and cinnamon glaze, enveloped and baked to perfection.”  This set us back approximately $24.  After Blondie set the plate on the table, we were all momentarily confused and though she brought the wrong order out.  A dessert instead of an entree.  Seriously, it was small.  Maybe a little bigger than a bagel.  Okay, not that small, but you get the picture.  While each flaky sweet meaty bite was a delight, Afua and I needed more.  More more more.  Tagine, you a tease.

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: Nomad

Nomad

78 Second Avenue between 4th and 5th Streets

New York, NY 10003

212-253-5410

http://www.nomadny.com/

Yet another birthday celebration in one week, birthday week!  This time, it was Greg who was turning another year older.

I arrived early and sat at the bar until the rest of the party arrived.  Since I was the only guest in the place at that point, I was lavished a lot of attention by the waiter/host (waist? hoter?).  Nomad has a front dining area and a back dining area which is a little roomier, a way a lot of restaurants are laid out.  The back also has more atmosphere, meaning is prettier and more inviting.  Our party sat in the back, tucked away into a little corner.  It was just us for a while but then the place started to fill up.

The lamb and prune tagine was highly recommended to me by Greg and Ambika, and I was skeptical at first because of my dislike for prunes though Greg said these weren’t like your average standard prune.  The lamb was great!  Prunes, not so much.  I gave them a chance to prove me wrong with this dish, but nope.  Just didn’t win me over.  The only prunes I’ve loved have been at Freemans, only because blue cheese and bacon compensate for the prune-ness.

Even though I gorged myself of the free pitas and olive oil beforehand, I ate every single bite of the lamb, the unliked prunes, and my bowl of couscous, but I was still hungry.  This is rare for me since typically I can’t even finish my own entree, so I guess the portion really was small.  Ambika took pity on my predicament and offered me her bowl of couscous, and Greg bestowed upon me a bite of his red snapper.  Snappy tasting, that fish.

The check took a long time to arrive, par for the course.  But I would come back though I’m trying the chicken pastilla (chicken, almonds, phyllo, cinnamon, sugar) next time.  And maybe having a snack at home beforehand.