Chicago Brunch Bets: The Publican

Having only one Sunday in Chicago meant that MW and I had to be especially discriminating when selecting our sole brunch destination. Fortunately for us, the decision turned out to be quite simple, as The Publican looked too good to pass up. Specializing in specialty suds, heirloom pork and sustainable seafood, Paul Kahan's take on an American bistro seemed like the perfect place to nurse our hangovers and fill our bellies. Of course, the fact that the restaurant accepts brunch reservations didn't hurt either, but ultimately, the food here is the main attraction and well worth the wait, even without one.

Brunch Bets: Motorino Pizza (Williamsburg)

Heralded pizzaolo, Mathieu Palombino's Motorino is a favorite of mine (and many others) for his irresistible Neapolitan-style pies crafted with a sauce made from San Marzano tomatoes, creamy fior di latte and charred, chewy crusts. But pizza for brunch? I say, why not? In fact, pizza may be one item that has managed to seamlessly infiltrate its way into breakfast, lunch and dinner. Hell, I've even seen dessert pizza. So a few weeks ago, after waking with a fierce craving for pizza mixed with a desire not to stray too far, I decided to hit up the original Motorino located on Graham Avenue in Williamsburg.

Yakitori Tori Shin: Stickin' with Chicken

With all due respect to vegetarians, but there's something irresistible about meat cooked over an open flame. That smokey perfume that wafts from the flames, the "crackles" and "pops" from the meat as it cooks, makes the act of grilling a complete sensory experience. But despite the fact that Americans pride themselves as being the undisputed kings of charcoal, to me, its the Japanese who have truly perfected this form of cooking. Rest assured, this is nothing like your typical backyard barbecue where the finished product ends up tasting like nothing but lighter fluid. No, using only organic chicken and importing their charcoal directly from Japan, yakitori, or "grilled chicken," is something the Japanese have down to a science. Fortunately, for New Yorkers at least, there are several respectable yakitori restaurants more than capable of satisfying your craving. So after having enjoyed Yakitori Totto, it was finally time to pay a visit to yet another master yakitoriya, chef and owner Shu Ikeda, of Yakatori Tori Shin.

Brunch Bets: Diner

Over the course of last year, Diner has quietly become my de facto brunch destination. Maybe it's the fact that it's conveniently located in Brooklyn - albeit Williamsburg - or maybe it's the restaurant's ever-changing menu of excellent food that keeps pulling myself, and many others, back for more. Suffice to say, Diner is a most worthy brunch destination, serving up anything but the typical fare you'd expect to find at your garden variety greasy spoon.

A Late Night Katz Snapshot

Entering Katz Deli at three in the morning can bring the mistakes of your evening (and life) into sharp focus. Bright lights accentuate the pictures of long-dead celebrities about to stuff their faces with pastrami. Personally, I like to sit at the table in front of Dom DeLuise's picture, a chilling reminder of the dangers of gluttony (is there a John Candy photo on one of the back walls?)

The only excuse for anyone to be here this late on a Saturday night is to imbibe stomach-coating peppery, fatty meat. The sandwiches are typically devoured fast, with stray pieces of pastrami falling off faces and lodging themselves in the hidden parts of a scarf, sweater or fat-fold only to be discovered early next morning upon waking up with a vicious headache and a craving for water (the hangover from the previous night's salt bomb of a sandwich).

You know, that may actually be Paul Prudhomme...

Our experience was not much different. On entering, we had to negotiate with the ticket taker regarding whether or not we were too drunk to sit. Even though I gave a much longer than necessary explanation w/r/t our sobriety, we were deemed acceptable (I think he just wanted me to shut up and order).

Di Fara Pizza, Paulie Gee's and The Cult of Personality

How do I even approach a post on Di Fara Pizza?

Invariably, it's discussed from one of two perspectives: the virgin and the veteran. These tropes are as stale as it gets (just look on Yelp).

The virgins write as if entering a sacred (likely Catholic) shrine for the first time (I think they picture themselves in an Indiana Jones movie). Photographs are a constant, but everyone still seems to show an incongruous reverence normally reserved for a pope, head of state or Lady Gaga. After an already eternal wait, they meekly place their order, waiting in line for their baptism in pizza grease and holy extra virgin olive oil. Finally, once the pizza itself has become a mere formality, they depart slightly heavier, but spiritually reborn (or something like that).

The Man. The Myth. The Legend.

Veterans, on the other hand, burnish their credibility by claiming to have been among the first to try Di Fara. (While Midwood locals reminisce at how Di Fara used to be before the crowds.) They worship at the alter of Pope Dom DeMarco, and write about Di Fara in tones of a wise man leading a rapturous flock to a holy Midwood pilgrimage, spreading salvation to those poor souls who's heathen lips have never touched the most holy blessed pizza in existence.

If my comments show anything, it's that I'm sorely lacking in whimsy or the ability to accept anything with more than jaded cynicism (being only 26, this deeply disturbs me). More importantly, I've overused the Catholic imagery and relied too much on sarcasm. No one wants to sound like this guy (which I probably did after my first draft).

Still, I'm also compelled to admit that, until recently, I too was a Di Fara virgin.

Did I Mention I Like to Eat Burgers? Shake Shack UES, J.G. Melon & Bill's Bar & Burger

Late Summer in the Upper East Side smells mainly of dog piss (with the occasional, surprise whiff of crap exciting the senses). Really, not to get graphic, but as I'm typing outside in the East 80's it smells like a dog is pissing in my nostrils.

Lately, however, the powerful smell of cooking burgers has replaced the official scent of the UES along a busy stretch of East 86th Street. Of course I'm talking about the new Shake Shack. With the opening of the fourth Manhattan branch earlier this month (and more on the way), the Shack has assured its near total domination of the NYC burger scene. Yet, like I said in my previous post discussing Shake Shack ad naseum, this is not a bad thing-- as it has forced others to up their game, competing in an ever intensifying burger arms race which can only result in MAD, or Mutually Assured Deliciousness. (A terrible Cold War reference/joke, I know.)

I'd rather not speculate as to how many times we've used this picture.

Left Coast Vacation 2010: Day 2 - Domaine Chandon, Bottega Napa Valley and Chappellet Winery

After an incredible meal at The French Laundry, our second day started early (thank God for still being on Eastern Time). We dragged ourselves out of bed for a hot air balloon ride above the Napa Valley... or at least that was the original idea. But mother nature had plans, and a combination of blustering winds and fog resulted in a delayed departure from Healdsburg. When we finally got up in the air, the balloon ride was a zen-like experience as we hovered over 2,000 feet above ground. I only wish landing was as peaceful as flying. Persistent winds forced us to land in an open field far from major roads which meant we had to wait about a half hour to be picked up. All in all, the experience was certainly unique and one that I'd recommend doing once.

Brunch Bets: Char No. 4

Located in the Carroll Gardens neighborhood of Brooklyn, Char No. 4 is first and foremost a whiskey bar. Don't believe me? Just try selecting from their 300-plus selection that's sold by the ounce. Even their name is derived from the they way barrels are charred to age whiskey, giving it that characteristic smokey flavor.

So why am I writing about a whiskey bar as a brunch destination? I'm glad you asked. While the front of the restaurant may celebrate this fine spirit, the kitchen in the rear turns out some serious smoked meat. Chef Matt Greco knows his way around a kitchen after having spent time at the likes of Michelin-stared Café Gray and A Voce. Here, Greco focuses on a small but well executed menu that prominently features pork.

Marlow & Son's: An American Bistro

While the word "bistro" is commonly associated with French food, I believe the label is appropriate for any small restaurant serving hearty fare at reasonable prices. Enter Williamburg's Marlow & Son's; a restaurant located in the back of a general store serving up plates of oysters, chacuterie boards and a list of rotating specials. Locals and Manhattanites alike routinely flock to this neighborhood joint for its use of seasonal ingredients, simple preparation and excellent execution. Tempted by a recent Grub Street article highlighting Marlow & Son's Brick Chicken, YW, her husband JC, MW and I decided to visit the restaurant.

Fatty Crab: Great Meal, Bad Value

Steve and I celebrated our friend Jerome's birthday, with 8 of us meeting up at Fatty Crab last night. On the whole, the meal was great, but I was a little put off by the price to portion ratio.

We consumed:

Pork belly and pickled watermelon, very good-- loved the bite of the watermelon after the fat-- but $15 for 4 pieces of pork belly and some watermelon? I was at the Union Square farmers market yesterday and saw a belly for $17. While I understand paying a premium for both, that's damn expensive for what was so cheap only recently (I guess pork belly has jumped the shark, unless you buy it for $4 a pound in C-town). We had to order 2 of these so everyone could get a piece.

Brunch Bets: Egg Restaurant

Brunch...the under-appreciated meal that borrows the best from breakfast and lunch menus. But often we're too tired or hungover from last night and have to settle for some greasy eggs or pancakes that taste of cardboard at the nearby diner. It is for exactly this reason that we are starting the Brunch Bets segment. Our goal, to explore New York's better (and sometimes poorer) brunch experiences in hopes that you can at least have something to look forward to after your walk of shame.

MA LA MOTHERF*#KA!

I live for the sweating, euphoric feeling I get when throwing something spicy down my throat. This is especially true with the unique heat from the combination of Sichuan peppercorn and chiles known as "ma la" or spicy and tingly. Since I have recently taken some heat for my fiery views (yeah I'll stoop to wordplay), I would like to set the record straight.


Dumplings in chili oil, ordered "ma la."

Oh Hi Momofuku Fried Chicken

I snagged a midnight reservation for Momofuku Noodle Bar's fried chicken dinner for this past Friday and soon had a group of 7 ready to inhale some food and alcohol. We planned on meeting at my apartment for a couple drinks before heading downtown.

The M&T Experience

Late last year, I decided to check out M&T Restaurant. I'd wanted to try as many different types of regional Chinese food as possible, and here was one I'd never experienced. M&T serves food from Qingdao, a seaport city in the Shandong region. For obvious reasons, the food is seafood-heavy, but also not very spicy. Luckily, Qingdao is also the home of Tsingtsao beer, which is fantastic for washing it all down.