March 13, 2010
Snow Day Lunch at Peter Luger: Cheeseburger, Creamed Spinach, and a Hot Fudge Sundae
- Snow-covered Peter Luger.
On February 26, I was perfectly content to stay home and work in my pajamas as a snowstorm semi-raged outside, transforming my view of an unkempt backyard-turned-weed graveyard into a winter wonderland.
And then around lunchtime, Kathy asked me if I wanted to eat lunch at Peter Luger. And I said, "Yes." How did Kathy get me to willingly transform from "groggy, sleep-wear 'boppy" to "mildly more functional, real world 'boppy" in the midst of a snowstorm on such short notice? Because, as a fellow Serious Eats contributor, she proposed that we go on a work-related mission. (Also, I like eating with her.)
The mission: to get a hot fudge sundae and a burger. It's called "research." Man, the things we do for you. Not that I expended much effort to get to Peter Luger; it's about 20 minutes from my apartment in Bed-Stuy on the B44 bus. It's the agony of an overstuffed belly that I had to endure. Lipid-based agony.
Posted by roboppy at 2:03 AM | Comments (3)
March 6, 2010
Chocolate Chip Cookies: One to Make, One to Buy
- Freshly baked cookies! AIEEE! They look sort of flat, but I swear they were good.
Last Saturday I made chocolate chip cookies using the Ad Hoc recipe to bring to Dahlia's birthday party. As I'm not exactly a maven in the kitchen, I generally only bake cookies (or make any sort of dessert) for special occasions, not for the purpose of fulfilling my incessant craving for chocolate chip cookies. When I'm awake, I want cookies. When I'm asleep, I want cookies. When I'm dead my disembodied soul will want cookies. (That gives me an idea for a picture book: Robyn Wants Cookies. Each page would be me in a different situation thinking about cookies. "In the deepest part of the ocean, Robyn wants cookies / In the eye of a tornado, Robyn wants cookies / In a town made of Jell-O, Robyn munches on a cherry-favored lamp post, and still wants cookies.")
Incessant. Yes. Chocolate chip cookies are my favorite dessert. Even more so than macarons. A warm chocolate chip cookie out of the oven, with the gooey chocolate bits, crispiness around the edge, and barely cooked middle, is...everything that is good in the world of cookies. Luckily, they're super easy to make and hard to mess up, if my experience is any indication.
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Posted by roboppy at 3:25 PM | Comments (21)
March 5, 2010
Another Look at Village Tart, and Random Stuff About Tipping
Warning: Lots of words in this one. Sort of boring. No interesting photos. If you're new to this blog, you should probably scroll down the index page and look at something else.
I've been thinking about this topic for days. And here I finally am. Because...
I REACHED SEASON SIX OF LOST! Last night. Around 4 a.m. Which in the scope of human accomplishments is about on par with managing to break the vacuum seal of a stubborn jar lid. Just think about all those hours, poured into a show that makes little sense...[single tear rolls down cheek]...but in my mind, that's part of the fun of watching it. At least I know the end is near. I would've gotten frustrated with it a long time ago if I had tried to watch it from the first day it aired.
So. Back to food. Ish. Related things.
- Figuring out the tip. Wooooeee. [This photo was taken at Veselka.]
You may have noticed that I rarely talk about the service I receive when I eat out. This is a combination of having low standards and luckily rarely encountering bad service. As Al said at lunch last weekend, I'd probably have to get stabbed by a waiter to think, "Man, that service was sort of subpar. And gosh, look at this mess I'm making, spurting blood all over the floor. I should clean this up. Oh nevermind, I just fainted."
For as far back as I can remember (circa 2004; my mental cogs aren't in the best condition), I could count the memorably crappy restaurant experiences independent of food quality on one hand. I usually tip around 20% no matter what service I get when I eat in New York City. Methinks this practice came from regularly reading Waiter Rant and books by Anthony Bourdain, except they would probably tell me to tip more for exemplary service, and I rarely do that, nor do I tip less for just okay service. My tipping practices are on autopilot. Ideally I'd be a more generous tipper when the situation calls for it, but hopefully I'm fair.
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Posted by roboppy at 11:55 PM | Comments (15)
New Yorkers, Help Me Find Some Shoes? (Not Food Related)
UPDATE (3/9): Just bought these shoes on Etsy! I'm pretty sure my feet are too wide for them, but I'll let you know what happens. Thanks for your help!
Sorry for the non-food-related post, but this is the easiest way for me to reach a buttload of people at once. THANK YOU FOR READING! For without you, I am nothiiiiinnggg.
First off, I'm not a big fan of shoes. Most of them don't fit me well because my feet are wider than average, and although I primarily buy shoes for comfort, not fashion (no high heels, please), I don't want shoes that, while comfortable, look like crap. My shoe collection consists of sneakers from Camper (my most oft-worn shoes), flip flops I bought at a Gap outlet mall over three years ago, Birkenstocks from three years ago, red flats from Camper that don't fit well because I should've bought a 38 instead of a 37 (although even if I got a 38, I suspect they would still be too tight), black flats from Clarks that are thankfully comfortable that I bought...I don't know how long ago, super warm fuzzy boots that are great when it's super cold and were adequate for walking in the snow until one of the soles wore away, and yellow flats made of plastic that I bought last summer for fun but are impractical because my feet are just a smidge too wide for them.
Fun, semi-formal shoes just don't work for me. And I'm okay with that because there are very few I'd ever want.
EXCEPT! In an instance of super rare desires, for some reason I really want this one pair of boots (or booties, rather; photos after this paragraph) in a specific design, and I feel like they must exist in my size. Whether or not they would be comfortable, I don't know...because I haven't found them yet. I randomly passed a vintage store last week that had the boots I pictured in my mind, but they were a size 7 and I'm a 7.5 to 8.
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Posted by roboppy at 11:50 PM | Comments (23)
February 28, 2010
88 Palace, Village Tart, Galanga, and L'Arte del Gelato, aka 'Last Sunday'
- The oh so palatial 88 Palace.
If left to my natural sleep cycle, I could sleep until 1 p.m. on a Sunday afternoon without a problem. (Sleep is the best. I know there's that saying, "I'll sleep when I'm dead," but dude, I want to sleep now because it feels awesome. Not sleeping will just shorten my lifespan, or make me go insane.) But if Adelyn hadn't made me haul my lumpy self out of bed at 10 a.m. last Sunday to meet up at 88 Palace for dim sum, I would've wasted a great deal of what ended up being a funner-than-average Sunday. So. Sometimes waking up before noon can be a good thing.
Our plan was to grab dim sum with Diana and a few of Adelyn's friends before checking out the Chinese New Year parade on Mott Street. Unfortunately, Diana fell sick the night before and didn't feel up to a dim sum lunch, and most of Adelyn's friends were only half-conscious by the time we were sitting at 88 Palace. Dim sum is best eaten by large groups—extended Chinese families and the like—definitely not by a party of two considering that many dishes come with three or more pieces. Luckily, Adelyn's friend Omar eventually showed up to help us eat. A rundown of the dishes:
- Pork buns.
Roast pork steamed buns: Super soft, fluffy steamed bread filled with sweet, fatty roast pork chunks. Although it's not a favorite of mine, it feels like one of those dim sum staples you have to get.
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Posted by roboppy at 3:45 AM | Comments (24)
February 23, 2010
The Island of Taiwan Restaurant in Dyker Hights / Bay Ridge / Whatever That Neighborhood Is
Before I talk about food, I have a warning to give. If you haven't watched Lost but think now would be a good time to catch up since it's in its last season and every episode is on Hulu, I say NO, DON'T DO THIS, or your blog posting schedule will be reduced to once per week, and you may spent a few nights staying up until 3 a.m. watching back-to-back episodes, and since you're going to bed right after watching the show you might have some weird dreams involving being stranded on an island and being tortured by crazy people and things like that.
Admittedly, I like that I finally understand what my Lost-watching friends have been talking about all these years, but it comes at a price. I'm pretty much sleepy all the time, and considering it's nearly 1:30 a.m., I'm going to try to blaze through this entry so I can go to bed before 3 a.m. The food porn is the most engaging part anyway, right? That "prose" stuff just gets in the way.
But before you waggle your finger at me (as much as I deserve it), let me just say that I didn't watch any Lost this weekend; I just happened to be busy during pretty much all my waking hours. Not that I was doing anything crazy—ye know, mostly eating. I just finished season 4 of Lost and I don't want to watch any more episodes until I pump out more posts. BLOG FIRST, LOST LATER.
OKAY I CAN DO THIS...here's a post about a meal I ate three weeks ago.
- Orange and fluorescent green, together at last.
When I lived in Taipei from 1996 to 1998, I was an ignorant, America-loving tweenage lump of chubb who ignored the local Taiwanese cuisine, instead opting to grab seemingly half of my sustenance at the McDonald's around the corner from my apartment where no Chinese-speaking skills were needed. I almost always ordered the same thing—a McChicken Sandwich Value Meal and a Filet-O-Fish sandwich (don't ask me how I managed to eat that much food; maybe the intense humidity made me sweat out the calories)—but I could've eaten so much better! If only I knew! If onlyyyy! Oh how I rattle my fists in anger.
Thankfully, living in New York City affords me the opportunity to grasp at the meager strings that connect me to my heritage through the magic of food. So, with the help of my friend and former Taipei American School classmate Jamie and four of her friends, I got to stuff myself at The Island of Taiwan Restaurant in Brooklyn (upon Danny's recommendation) with some dishes I probably never ate in Taiwan.
Posted by roboppy at 12:28 AM | Comments (23)
February 15, 2010
Ramen Goodness at Setagaya and Ippudo
- Mm. Ramen.
"Man, ramen's good."
[slurp]
"Damn, I like ramen."
[chew chew]
"Why don't I eat ramen more often?"
[slurp chew]
"Mmm. ...Crap I can't breathe, I better swallow."
Aaaaand that's what it sounds like in my head. I estimate that my brain is 95% Jell-O-like goo made of underachieving neurons where profundity is unable to thrive. (But that last 5%? Oh man, it's like a party with beach balls and a motherfuggin' cotton candy machine!!!)
So, back to the internal dialogue. While eating my bowl of black sesame miso ramen ($10.50) at Ramen Setagaya last Thursday, I had this atypical revelation of, "Man, [insert type of dish I'm eating] is really tasty. Yeah!" Usually, I eat contently, not blown away nor disappointed by what I'm eating (and more than usually, I insufficiently chew too much food far too quickly, the result being odoriferous burps for the rest of the day that I will announce to whomever is unfortunately within my zone of vocal reach). But this time I was like, "This ramen is so hitting some sort of spot that only springy noodles in an umami-laden broth can hit."
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Posted by roboppy at 12:07 PM | Comments (30)
February 7, 2010
Dim Sum at East Harbor Seafood Palace in Sunset Park
- They don't make palaces like they used to.
For those who aren't familiar with Chinatowns in New York City, here's a quick little lesson: There are three major ones, in Manhattan, Brooklyn (Sunset Park), and Queens (Flushing), with more on the way because daaamn, there are a lot of Chinese people. Out of those three Chinatowns, the one I've been to the least is the Brooklyn one.
But I'm slowly building my Sunset Park repertoire of "places my stomach has ravaged." Two weeks ago I ate at East Harbor Seafood Palace with Diana, Olia, Chichi, Adelyn, and Greg upon Diana's recommendation. The restaurant was crowded at noon on a Sunday, and we had to wait about half an hour for our number to be called. In Cantonese. Maybe they'll call your number out in English if you don't know Chinese, but I'm not sure. Thankfully, Diana and Adelyn know their Cantonese numbers, while I...um...can do one to ten in Mandarin, crappily at best.
- Om-a-nom-nom.
FOOD PORN TIME.
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Posted by roboppy at 7:49 PM | Comments (28)
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