The Girl Who Ate Everything

These entries originally took place A GAZILLION YEARS AGO. This means I don't remember what I ate very well, but I'm posting the photos for record's sake. ...So...um...enjoy.

There's a group of restaurants I call "parent friendly," although I guess the cuisine classification is "New American." It's what I might suggest if you asked me, "Heeeey, my parents are coming from out of town and they like food, but nothing crazy, and the place should be sort of nice and not super cheap or too expensive. SUGGESTIONS?"

I don't have many of these kinds of restaurants under my belt, usually because New American isn't exactly a value-driven cuisine (not that there's anything wrong with that; just that in order to eat out so often I have to lean towards the cheap and delicious), but I visited two restaurants earlier this year that I would recommend.

Roebling Tea Room

Fletcher and Tristan, ta daaa.

Although I had been interested in eating at Roebling Tea Room for a while—as I heard it was one of the nicer restaurants in Williamsburg—I never got a push to actually go there, despite living within walking distance. The occasion for eating dinner there two months ago was the arrival of the Jones' from Virginia for a vacation in their oldest son's (that is, Tristan, good friend and former roommate) adopted city. Tristan's family—mom, dad, and younger brother Fletcher—is the family I am closest to aside from my own. A meal with them is as important as a meal with my own family, but to eat with my family I have to go home to New Jersey, as they have collectively never (and probably won't ever) visited me in Brooklyn to share a meal. Sigh. Well, I think they love me, or something.

Once again, I am failing at posting on a timely basis. :( I have a post in the works that I should finish this weekend, if all goes well. Until then, here are a few recent posts I've done on Serious Eats:

Angus burger.

Burger at Royal Tavern in Philadelphia: I went to Philadelphia last weekend—a very calorically dense weekend—to visit Alex, just two weeks after he visited me in NYC. Not that I've blogged about that visit yet. Um. I'm working on it.

OVALTINES!

Sugar Rush: Ovaltine from Chinatown: You already know about my Ovaltine drinking experience in Chinatown, but I made a quick post for it on Serious Eats in a desperate need for some sugary coverage. I'm still hitting the Ovaltine hard, man. (Also, the Milo and Holicks.)

This entry originally took place on February 12.

At this point in time, no one seems to equate hearing "kō," as in Co., with Company—the pizzeria opened by New York City's master of all things wheaty and yeasty, Jim Lahey—because everyone thinks you're talking about Momofuku Ko. Greg came up with a solution: call it Kump.

Kump.

So we—Greg, Alice, Nick, and I—ate at Kump. After waiting for about an hour.

The four of us shared five pizzas. Not a bad haul. We all seemed to have different ratings for our favorite pizzas, but maybe that's a good sign; it means there's something for everyone. I particularly liked half of the pies are sauce-less, although tomato sauce lovers / cheese haters could have the opposite sentiment.

This entry originally took place on February 14.

Update (7/20/09): UPN has closed. Motorino will be moving into its place.

Greg doesn't come with the pizzeria.

Although reliable sources have told me for years that Una Pizza Napoletana churns out the best pizza in New York City, I've avoided going because it's infamously expensive, has a love-it-or-hate-it reputation (partially influenced by its high prices and unaccommodating hours of Thursday through Sunday after 5 p.m.) and no one has really pushed me to go there. But when Alex visited me about three weeks ago, I used his presence and vegetarian diet as an excuse to try it out.

How expensive could a pizza be? According to this review on Slice, the pies were $16.95 each in 2004. Today they're $21 each. On the "pizza pricing" scale it sounds like a lot, but on the "nice Saturday night dinner" scale, it's not likely to give your wallet reason to commit suicide. Hell, it was a Valentine's Day (not that any of us were celebrating—at least three of us were single).

Still, $21 for a single serving pie? They mean business. It may look simple, but if the three-panel "menu" has anything to say about it, it's not. I say "menu" because the actual listing of dishes only takes up half of one panel:

• Marinara: San Marzano tomatoes, extra virgin olive oil, oregano, fresh garlic, fresh basil, sea salt.
• Margherita: San Marzano tomatoes, mozzarella di bufala, extra-virgin olive oil, fresh basil, sea salt.
• Bianca: Mozzarella di bufala, extra virgin olive oil, fresh garlic, fresh basil, sea salt.
• Filetti: Fresh cherry tomatoes, mozzarella di bufala, fresh garlic, extra virgin olive oil, fresh basil, sea salt.

The section explaining their dough is twice as long as that.

This entry originally took place on February 27 and 28.

It starts with gelato. As always.

Like the last time I went to Philadelphia, my first fooding stop during my visit two weeks ago was Capogiro, aka, the gelateria I wish we had in New York City. After lazying around on a bench in Rittenhouse Square with Alex (it was an uncharacteristically warm night, perfect for bench-sitting), we met up with Lisa (previously of Jacques Torres' macaron woman fame) and her friend at Capogiro.

I got a cup of pomelo sorbet and fior di latte gelato topped with a free (FREE!) pump of whipped cream. Because what goes better with a creamy, 50 percent dairy-filled dessert than foamy heavy cream? ...Yeah! As usual, both flavors were great—sort of delicate and strong at the same time, that is, not overpowering and not too sweet. Pomelo tastes like a tart-less grapefruit and fior di latte is just sweet milk, or vanilla without the vanilla. You would barely know that the sorbet were dairy-less considering how creamy and smooth it was.

This entry originally took place on February 28. It's almost March on my blog! WOW!@#$%

After visiting the Mütter Museum and getting our fill of diseased organs and deformed fetuses (it's a "must visit" though, unless you are especially squeamish), Alex and I went to Reading Terminal Market to meet some of his friends...and so I could get my pork on.

DiNic's

I followed Joy Manning's recommendation to head to DiNic's for a roast pork and broccoli rabe sandwich. Alex's friend Mark joined me in line to do the same.

Distracted by MEAT.

The pile of bulging roasted meat chunks threatening to break out of the strings securing their juicy centers was quite distracting.

This entry originally took place on March 1.

Like many foods deemed appropriate for breakfast, French toast (well, good French toast) is inherently indulgent. Take some thick slices of bread—preferably of the fluffy, eggy sort—soak in an egg-milk-sugar bath, pan-fry the saturated slices, and serve with maple syrup/butter/whipped cream/jelly beans/what have you.

Yes.

But sometimes, you want more than that. Sabrina's Cafe fills the void in your French toast-loving heart with their Stuffed Caramelized Challah French Toast. It's like a gigantic sandwich...made of fluffy French toast bricks...cemented together with a thick layer of sweet cream cheese goo.

UPDATE: Got enough replies for now. Thanks dooods!

My friend/frequent fooding partner Lee Anne is moving from Phoenix to Washington DC and needs to find an apartment STAT, preferable with a non-crazy food-loving person. (Her Craigslist scourings aren't going very well so far.) If you're a DC resident looking for an equally non-crazy food-loving person, contact me (roboppy@gmail.com). Thanks!

This entry originally took place on February 16 and March 11.

Grand Sichuan

My favorite Chinese restaurant in the city is Grand Sichuan, partially because of its multiple convenient locations (I go to the ones in Chelsea and on St. Marks), mostly because their food tastes like awesome (if you know what to order, at least) and spans four of my favorite food groups: spicy awesome, vegetable awesome, dumpling awesome, and noodly awesome. According to my Flickr archives, I've been there six times since February, easily more than any other restaurant in the city. Granted, half of those times were just to get a quick, cheap lunch near work, but they still count in my grand total.

However, the lunches don't count as contributors to the Grand Sichuan 'Splosion Experience. My first Grand Sichuan 'splosion was spurred by Kathryn and her laundry list of recommendations. When Kathryn recommends something, you listen. Because she's always right. She, along with Dan, Kathy, and Greg, help me plow through most of her favorite dishes. That dinner rekindled a flame in my GS-loving belly...a flame that mostly burned for cucumber in scallion sauce. (You'll see. Oh yes.)

AND THEN I NEEDED MORE—MORE SCALLION SAUCE, MORE BEEFY GOODNESS, MORE DUMPLINGS, RAWRGFLUNG...[calmly wipes flecks of spit off monitor]. About three weeks later I arranged another Grand Sichuan 'Splosion Experience aided by Ulla, her boyfriend, and her sister, Diana, Greg (agaaain), Lee Anne, and Chris. You know how much food eight people can eat? A lot! Yay!

And with that introduction, I present the food porny results to you. Since you're unlikely to find deliciousness by blindly picking items from their menu, here are some of my favorite dishes.

This post originally took place on March 8. Kathryn wrote a great summary on Chowhound if you want the quick version of our day. And you might, because this entry is looong. I've taken some notes from Kathryn, who is considerably better at remember what the hell is in stuff than I am.

Also, in case I haven't mentioned it before, I have a manatee blog. I've gotten many tips about the floppy manatee from Cute Overload, so yes, keep the manatee goodness coming (although you should probably check my manatee blog first). :)

You know you've had a good day when you semi-unintentionally embark on a three and a half-hour gorging tour of Flushing.

I say "semi" because the original plan did entail hoofing it to Flushing (about a 90-minute subway ride from my apartment in Bed-Stuy) to meet at Nan Xiang Xiao Long Bao before moving on to a series of yet-to-be-determined destinations that required open maws, digestive fortitude, and ignorance of one's stomach being on the cusp of explosion.

If I were taller you could probably see the name of the restaurant.

But then plan changed when Nan Xiang was too crowded to easily accommodate our group of six—Kathy, Kathryn, Joe, Greg, Diana, and me. Our raging dumpling cravings directed us around the corner to a soup dumpling-less dumpling-erie that was mostly devoid of humans.

Dumpling Heaven

THIS IS HEAVEN!

Dumpling Heaven! Apparently also known as Dumpling King. But their official name seems to be Best North Dumpling House in case that makes things any less confusing. Nope.