Branching Out @ Bánh Mì Saigon

As many of you know, I'm a huge fan of Bánh Mì Saigon's yummy--and cheap--pork sandwich, and every time I go in, I'm drawn back to its spicy, flavorful goodness. But in the interest of trying new things, I've finally branched out.

I pondered the menu and almost chose the paté option, but I ended up going with the meatball bánh mì ($4), figuring I'd leap into the world of mystery meat. I'd imagined the meatballs would be some sort of Vietnamese-inspired something, but instead, they seemed to reflect the Asian/Italian fusion going on in that neighborhood (Bánh Mì Saigon's new location is at the crossroads of Little Italy and Chinatown on Grand Street between Mulberry and Mott). The meatball recipe seemed to be traditionally Western, and matched with some sort of cooked tomato, layer #1 was very reminiscent of an Italian-style sub. Topped with the traditional Vietnamese veggies, it was one heck of a crazy combo, and while it was OK, I'm not sure I was a fan. It was a kind of flavor confusion that never really won me over...

The best part, though, was that for whatever reason, the bread was fresh and warm. It's always good at Bánh Mì Saigon, but on that particular day, I truly lucked out.

Bánh Mì Saigon, 138 Grand Street between Mulberry and Mott.

Coney Island Favorites Get The Boot

In addition to the wonderfully disturbing Shoot the Freak (the demise of which I tweeted about yesterday), 8 other longtime establishments have lost their Coney Island Boardwalk leases. According to The New York Times, the beautifully retro food stand Paul's Daughter (pictured above) is out. Founded 41 years ago, many of you might remember it as the former home of the Astroland rocket, which lived on top until the amusement park closed in 2008. Also gone is one of NYC's diviest dive bars: Ruby's. It was truly skanky, but I had a couple of beers there once, and I loved its old-school boardwalk vibe.

The freak takes a break.

Paul's Daughter in 2007.

The Truffle Oil Diaries: Sautéed Potatoes

Researching creative ways to use truffle oil, I have discovered that, apparently, its aromatic wonderfulness doesn't last for very long. Time to get crackin'!

Craving a truly satisfying potato moment, I decided to approximate something similar to the truffled French fries that have been showing up on menus around town. I cut up a potato, tossed the slices with a tablespoon of olive oil and some kosher salt, and threw them into my handy-dandy cast iron skillet. I slowly browned them over medium-low heat, turning every so often, until they were fairly brown and a little crunchy. Before serving, I tossed them with a generous drizzle of truffle oil.

I was content. So, as far as the Truffle Oil Diaries go, while it's not the most spectacular way to get one's truffle fix, this idea's a super-easy keeper.

Revisiting Marie's Crisis Café

The WPA mural behind the bar at Marie's Crisis Café depicts the French and American revolutions.

It's been a few years since I've stopped by Marie's Crisis Café, known by many as one of the best places in NYC to sing along with your favorite show tunes. A friend of a friend was visiting from Liverpool, and she wanted to check out an open mic or karaoke spot. As we were nearby, we decided to pop in to the famous piano bar. I'd only been a few times before--usually on busy nights when the place is jammed--and an entertaining, song-filled three-and-a-half hours proceeded to fly by!

I'd never checked out the history of the place, and after doing a brief search, I'm kind of gobsmacked at how cool the location is. For years, I've known the place as merely "the gay piano bar near Sheridan Square where you sing show tunes" and just figured it was in another Greenwich Village building, but its history is fairly complex. The current structure, from the 1850s, replaced another in which Thomas Paine died (hence "Crisis," reflecting his Crisis Papers). The room was originally a prostitutes' den, became a boy bar in the 1890s, survived Prohibition, and has been in its current piano bar state for more than 35 years. Even more fascinating is the WPA mural behind the bar--nobody seems to know how it got there.

I'd forgotten how fun Marie's Crisis Café can be. So, if you're in the mood for a sing-along or need a Broadway fix on the cheap (the drink prices are low!), head on down to Grove Street.


Marie's Crisis Café, 59 Grove Street just west of Seventh Avenue.

Pickled Shrimp, Take Two

I've consumed the rest of the pickled shrimp I picked up from An Choi's stand at the Grub Street Food Festival (I have no idea how long pickled seafood lasts, so I thought it was a good idea to eat it all fairly quickly). My happiest use for it, I think, was in a version of a Vietnamese style cold noodle salad (a.k.a. bun). I tossed some lettuce with olive oil (it's all I had!), a little lime juice, and some of pickled green mango and dried chili flakes with salt I'd bought with the shrimp. I put everything in a bowl, topped it with a handful of cooked, rinsed noodles I'd tossed with a little more oil, soy sauce, and lime juice, and finished the dish with a few of the pickled shrimp.

(And you must be wondering, "Why are the noodles black?!" They are black bean noodles that someone gave to me after finding them lame. I gave them a shot, but must concur--they're terrible! Really, health food people, do you really think this crap is a good idea? And who thinks this is good? Eek.)

Pickled Shrimp!

I am in love with the pickled shrimp I picked up at An Choi's stand at Saturday's Grub Street Food Festival. I threw a few in a salad, and wow, these babies kick some major ass. They're rich and flavorful--I sense a wonderful ginger zing in there--and perfectly spicy. I think I'm going to have to visit the restaurant and beg them to sell me some more! Or twist their arm for the recipe...

Blast from the Past: Scrapple

Many many years ago, when I was but a wee thing growing up in the rolling hills of Pennsyltucky, I used to eat scrapple. This Pennsylvania Dutch creation was a foreign thing to my family (my parents are from Connecticut and my mom, who does a vast majority of the cooking, is of Sicilian stock), but we often had lots of it, generously given to us by my dad's parishioners. My mom would broil thin slices of the stuff until crisp, and I would grab the honey bear and drizzle some sticky goodness all over it. I loved the salty sweet crunchiness, and was happy to dig in.

Then, when I was 12 or so, I found out what was in it. To put it nicely, scrapple is made from leftover pork bits, plus a little filler. The childhood me immediately conjured up images of puréed eyeballs and bones and the like, so Scrapple landed on my "absolutely will not eat" list.

I've been wanting to try scrapple again, but it hasn't been on the priority list during my not-so-frequent family visits. So, when I spied it on a list of offerings at the Union Square Greenmarket, I bought a pound.

My broiler is kind of a pain in the ass (tucked away at the bottom of my tiny oven), so I decided to grab my good ol' cast iron skillet to cook some up (which is, I believe, the traditional method). I cut a few thin slices from the block--thinner than the suggested 1/4 inch--and sautéed them over medium-low heat until both sides were brown and crisp. I drizzled a tiny bit of honey on each slice, and then revisited a long-lost taste memory.

Scrapple's actually pretty good. On its own, it's not so interesting, but adding a little something sweet brings out the flavors of the added spices--especially the black pepper. So, as I say to others when discussing the Scottish traditional Haggis (which is much weirder, given the cooking method), don't be afraid and give it a try!

The Cursed Corner

I think this space, on the southeast corner of 23rd Street and 10th Avenue, is cursed. I've been a regular in this part of town for 15 years, and sadly, whatever opens here never lasts (and I think it's been empty more than it's been occupied). Looks like someone's opening a burger joint in the space...I guess we'll see if it lasts!

Decadent Artichoke Pizza @ Artichoke Basilles

I'd heard the hype, and I've finally tried the pie: I was wandering The High Line with some friends, and we decided to have dinner at the new location of Artichoke Basilles Pizzeria & Bar (on 17th Street and 10th Ave., in the old Red Rock Saloon West biker bar space). Yup, it was worth the hype.

We weren't sure which direction to take (there were numerous interesting possibilities), or how much we needed (there were four of us, but how hearty were these pizzas?), so we opted for one pizza and a starter. After much deliberation (and me nixing the meatball pizza option) we went for what I thought was the most fascinating option: artichoke with spinach, cream sauce, and cheese. I suggested we order the meatballs as the starter, which seemed like it would balance things out nicely.

The meatballs came first, and everything was nice and garlicky. The sauce was fresh, and the meatballs themselves were flavorful (Cathy thought there was a little pork in there, which seemed about right to me). I rethought...I'd happily order a meatball pie in the future.

And then the pizza arrived...and it was really, really good (and really, really big). Honestly, with all of the buzz, I was expecting Artichoke Basilles to be yet another wood oven place (I think Hell's Kitchen may soon have more pizzerias than Thai restaurants) that serves up an Italian-style light, thin-crust pie. But Artichoke's serves up something that's more New York–style, with a sort of nod to Arturo's and a modern twist. The pies are cooked in a typical electric (or gas?) pizza oven, and the dough is thick and heavy (practically deep dish), pleasantly crunchy, and flavorful. The toppings on our artichoke version were wonderfully decadent, and it was so rich, each of us only ate a slice and a half (I'm usually a two-slice girl, but I think one of these would do me!). When you're stuffed, but wish you could eat more, that's some tasty pizza pie.

While it seems to be a bit expensive it's actually not--unless you have a bottomless stomach. In my opinion, one of these pies goes much further than the typical, and I think this pizza's eight slices would satisfy six to eight people. So, I need seven people to join me the next time. Who's in?

Artichoke Basilles Pizzeria & Bar, 10th Avenue @ 17th Street. Original location 328 E. 14th Street, between 1st and 2nd Avenues.

Brunch @ The Grub Street Food Festival

Always happy to peruse a food festival, I was super-excited for New York magazine's Grub Street Food Festival, which took over the Hester Street Fair yesterday. Accompanied by my friend and KKNY fan Cathy--who was in town visiting from glorious Pennsyltucky--we hit the fair bright and early...a good idea, as numerous comments on the Grub Street blog complained about the overcrowded conditions in the afternoon.

I resisted Sigmund Pretzelshop's mini cheddar/truffle pretzels, but I tried a bite of Cathy's plain salted version, and it was beautifully fluffy and flavorful--especially with the beet-infused horseradish sauce.

La Sonrisa's pork empanada. I love my empanadas, and this puppy was one of the fresh and tastiest I've had. Cathy picked up some of their cucumber lemonade--what a great idea!

Goodies from the Macaron Parlour. Cathy went for a caramel apple (the red one), and I went for the bacon maple (He gave me two because one was broken. Score!). The bacon was yummy, but overall it was little too sweet for my taste. I'll try the Thai chili next time around...

Skim Kim's Goguma Shepherd's pie. Who'd a thunk kimchi in that traditional British dish would be so awesome?

I talked Cathy into a waffle and spekuloos spread from Wafels & Dinges, and she was glad she'd listened!

I never made it back to the Melt Bakery's stand for one of its newly-invented fried pumpkin pies. Next time...

All filled up, I picked up some of AnChoi's pickles to take home: the brightly wonderful green mango and the surprisingly spectacular picked shrimp (who knew?!).