More Georgian Food at Mtskheta Cafe

Once again I've found myself overly complacent. Mtskheta Cafe, a new Georgian restaurant near the end of the D train in South Brooklyn (in what may or may not be Bensonhurst) blasted onto my radar with a review in New York Magazine of all places. A scouting trip with Jared Cohee of Eating the World in NYC that same day confirmed that I should probably return.

That Friday, we showed up with a large group for a birthday party where we ordered much of the menu (and also had much to drink). Then, I sat on my post. Subsequent write-ups by Jared, Wilfrid of At the Sign of the Pink Pig and Dave Cook at Eaten in Translation showed that I really had a lot to add to the conversation.... Regardless (I've sold this quite well, I'm sure), I'll add what I can (having been to a lot of Georgian restaurants in the city, I believe my self-proclaimed expertise means my voice should be heard).

At the first meal with Jared, we decided to keep our order lean and mean with kupati, khachapouri and a Georgian salad. Also, the all-Russian menu was daunting, so we just named a few dishes to try. Our young, English-speaking waiter pushed the garlic chicken, but we'd already ordered too much. This type of food requires alcohol. I was unprepared, but ran to the Rite Aid down the street, where the best of a bad selection was Heineken tall boys. Those would do.

I returned to chewy lavash bread and soon our khachapouri arrived. It was buttery, almost like movie theater popcorn and overflowing with cheese, but otherwise unremarkable. Stick with Pirosmani or Georgian Bread for khachapouri.

Brooklyn Risotto Ball Rumble

I've been eating lunch at the recently opened Catania Cafe on Atlantic Avenue a lot lately. It's close to the Kings County Courthouse and has the benefit of being ultra-cheap (pretty much everything on the menu is under $10). Plus they specialize in hard-to find Sicilian food (if you're looking for more of the same, check out Joe's of Avenue U in Gravesend).

But I'll write about the rest of Catania Cafe's menu some other time (if you need some other dish recommendations now, check out this Chowhound thread). Today it's all about the risotto balls.

Here, the arancini sit like a fat teardrop among a bevy of fried Sicilian snacks and come filled with a chunky beef ragu laced with fontina cheese. It's slightly sweet crust marks a stark contrast to the savory interior. Unfortunately, the arancini tend to fall apart, making a fork almost necessary.

Tanoreen: A Study in Over-Ordering

Though not an official rule, it's by tacit agreement that Steve and I over-order whenever we eat out together. It's unavoidable (not that we try to avoid it anyway), especially with large groups, where we'll order an exponentially greater amount of food until a concerned waiter or waitress vainly presses us to relent. It seems as if we suffer from a lethal combination of wanting to try everything and the concurrent realization that the cost of said extra items will be spread evenly throughout the group (who invariably must be as willing in their eating habits as us).

A recent meal at Tanoreen presented textbook opportunities for our brand of over-ordering. OK, so we stuffed ourselves so full that my post-dinner tahini burps almost made me regret the meal (and make others regret it) as I staggered home. Almost. That said, I've passed my monthly quota of tahini.

A First Meal at Masten Lake

While looking for a small group dinner, Steve suggested Masten Lake, a new restaurant in Williamsburg featuring an Italian inflected menu by Chef Angelo Romano, formerly of Lupa and Roberta's. Entering the restaurant, previously a bar on Bedford Avenue, just south of the main drag, we found the room to be plain, but pleasant. Especially nice were the benches and groups of booths parallel to the long bar, providing comfort and privacy.

The menu is conveniently divided into "Cold," "Hot," "Pasta" and "Protein" sections for today's on-the-go diner. We ultimately elected to order every dish from each category except for the Cold, which, due to insurmountable differences in cuisine preference, we couldn't agree on a single dish. I hate hearts of palm, someone else doesn't like cucumbers. So it goes.

Let's break the meal down by menu section.

Hot

Zucchini with salmon roe, buttery breadcrumbs and a smear of ricotta was our introduction to Chef Romano's cuisine. Steve immediately pointed out the comparison with Roberta's in the plating, which definitely seems to be an influence, but portions were larger across the board, and this necessarily affected how they were plated. The zucchini evoked Italy, but with a common touch: salmon roe. Playing with textures-- the zucchini was crisp and accentuated by the breadcrumbs while the salmon roe burst in our mouths, all lubricated by the fresh, ultra creamy ricotta-- this dish was a promising start.

Leading the Way to Tamada

Tamada is the latest stop in my halfhearted attempt to try every Georgian restaurant in the city.

Steve, who arrived first to an empty restaurant, was eyed skeptically by the owner. To convince him of the seriousness of our cause, Steve said "we're here for Georgian," and then angrily broke two plates with a bottle of Georgian wine (I may have condensed the timeline for the sake of narrative convenience). Oh, speaking of the wine, we purchased a bottle of red, Alaverdi Pirosmani 2005, which was inoffensive, meaning its the best Georgian wine I've tried. And, after one sip of the dry white wine, Tsinandali, I wisely decided to stick with the red. We also purchased the necessary amount of honey pepper vodka (to stimulate our appetites, of course).

Something's Fishy at Smorgasburg

My second visit to Smorgasburg, the food vendor version of the Brooklyn Flea Market, was much more pleasant than the first. Less crowded and not as oppressively hot, it was the perfect day to spend outside.

What's good for a hot day (besides cold beers, which I'll get to later)? Seafood and Salad! Sure...

Fryin' on a Prayer

Bon Chovie sells fried anchovies. I got Jersey style, which was described as down and dirty, meaning heads on. Served with a spicy mayo and a couple of pickled peppers, the anchovies were fresh tasting and well fried. There's no better way to start a day.

Brooklyn Burger Battles

The burger scene in Downtown Brooklyn is changing by the day, and the chain restaurants are taking over. That's not necessarily a bad thing. Shake Shack's announcement that they'd be coming to Brooklyn, right in the middle of Borough Hall, anchoring the Fulton Street Mall has seemingly set off a burger arms race in the area, and with Shake Shack is taking its sweet time, in the meantime, two other niche burger chains, Jake's Wayback Burgers and Smashburger, have seized the momentum.

On opening day a few weeks ago, I went to Jake's Wayback for an early lunch, ordering a Jake Cheeseburger with fries. Burgers are ordered much like at Five Guys, where you can pick from a list of free toppings. I added pickles and onions (and possibly jalapenos). 

I had zero expectations. In fact, since this chain is based on Long Island chain, I was even more suspicious. Yet the burger was surprisingly good, reminiscent of Steak & Shake, which I'm pretty sure is the effect they were going for, and the two patties had developed a nice crust without losing too much juiciness. The fries were well seasoned, but that's probably the only good thing I can say about them. I'd go back, but not after Shake Shack opens.

Smashburger after the jump.

Bed Stuy: Do or Dine

While it's still far to early to write a proper review of "Do or Dine," the newest spot to open in the western reaches of Bed Stuy, after two meals I feel like I have at least the bare qualifications to give a preview.

We first checked out Do or Dine on what was supposed to be their opening night. It turned out that proprietors Perry Gargano, Luke Jackson and chef Justin Warner (along with his partner in the kitchen George McNeese) spent the day building a deck rather than preparing for their grand opening. I fully support their chosen priority, since the deck catches a cooling breeze on a hot evening and the freshly spray-painted walls drew my eyes each time I zoned out of a conversation.

The food is playful and promising and much of the braintrust previously worked in the front of house at the Modern. Having never been to the Modern, I'm completely and utterly unqualified to draw any comparisons whatsoever (read on anyway!)

Described as an American Izakaya to The New York Times, the comparison seems close, especially since the food pairs very well with alcohol (or after you've had alcohol). As of last week it's still BYOB, but they expect a liquor license soon. Then, Luke, along with a Pegu Club alum will create what he described as an "out there" cocktail list. Like I said, this is an early post (a second may soon be necessary).

Yat Yat Sweet: Sweet and Stinky

Growing up in Rochester, I'll admit to being completely ignorant of Chinese food. But after being introduced to Cantonese cuisine during a trip to Hong Kong and a rudimentary education via MW, I'm proud to say that now I'm only mostly ignorant of Chinese food. But when YC introduced me to a rather unique dessert last week, I just knew that I had to write about it.

A Long Weekend of Excess

Maybe it won't compare to Steve's weekend of similar excess in Chicago, but while we're measuring I'll line up my Memorial Day weekend with anyone. I'm sure everyone has eagerly anticipated hearing about it...

It started on Thursday morning. I was in court in Staten Island, a much easier, and far more relaxing environment than my usual spot in the hellhole of Kings court. I finished before 11 AM, grabbing an early beer and slice with a colleague at Pier 76 on Bay Street, only a five minute walk from the courthouse in Richmond Terrace.

Although Pier 76 was opened by the progeny of Joe & Pat's, the pizza was disappointing. I got two of the freshest slices from the first pizzas of the day: pepperoni and a Sicilian. Both slices were heavy on the cheese, with a thin, chunky tomato sauce. The crust was fine, but could barely hold the torrents of grease from the cheese and sauce. I'm glad to have tried it, but I'm doing a Staten Island Pizza tour this weekend and am preparing to have my mind blown. The best part of the meal was hearing the bartenders share their Fleet Week stories.

Pier 76
76 Bay Street
Staten Island, NY 10301
(718) 447-7434

Celebrating Spring and Steve's Birthday with an Epic Roberta's Tasting Menu

So we thought we'd try something a little different for this post. Rather than a traditional write-up, Steve and I instead decided to have an in-depth conversation about our recent epic 15 course tasting menu to celebrate Steve's birthday at Roberta's with Chef Carlo Mirarchi cooking the meal.

Chef Carlo Mirarchi & Duck.

For Steve and I this might have been our most anticipated meal of the year. Our idiosyncratic (but mostly harmonious) opinions after the jump...

Brooklyn Star: Deep in the Heart of Brooklyn

Last February Joaquin Baca's year-old restaurant Brooklyn Star burned down. In retrospect that wasn't such a bad thing. For one, we gained Best Pizza, which took over the old space (plus the same serious wood burning oven), and sometimes comes scarily close to fulfilling its bold moniker.

The other benefit is that Brooklyn Star, which reopened in March and whose menu has been updated, but still features a heavily Brooklyn influenced take on classic Texas favorites, is now in a much larger space on the other side of the expressway. This is both an asset and a curse. The interior is oddly bland, with green and white walls and wooden tables and floors. If it weren't for the obligatory hipster waifs you wouldn't know this is Williamsburg. There's a sense of humor though, with a nod to Chuck Norris and a declaration on the menu that the Fritos are sourced from Plano, Texas.

On to the food...

Blurry Georgian Nights at Tbilisi Cafe & Bakery

A train ride into Bensonhurst led us to the narrow and unassuming Tbilisi Cafe & Bakery where my friend Liz had arranged for a massive Georgian dinner (also known as a Supra) with some of her friends from the Peace Corps. Liz knows how much I love khachapouri, and this is just another step in my plan to eat at every Georgian place in the city (and an excuse to drink).

What follows is an illustration of a proper Supra. 

Initially, I'd like to note that these meals are fueled by alcohol, and due to my inebriation stemming from a strict compliance with the rules of a Supra, my pictures suck (and to be honest, my memory of this dinner is hazy, at best). Shaky, grease-slicked hands make for blurry photos, so I'll use them sparingly. 

Along with multiple shots of honey pepper vodka, we (or, I) alternated between overly sweet Georgian wine, vodka and beer. It's all about variety in consumption. Oh, before I go any further I should note that the two rules for drinking at a Supra are: (1) everyone drinks at the same time; and (2) everyone must finish what's in their glass. I'm proud of myself for not throwing in a Fight Club reference right there. I think it's a sign of maturity. 

A Supra also requires a Tamada, or toastmaster. Liz claims she was the Tamada. Since I don't have the energy to argue with her, I guess I'll let it slide.

We began the meal with a simple salad and badrijani. The thin slices of eggplant stuffed with walnut paste went down well on top of an incendiary shot of honey pepper vodka.

Brunch Bets: Prime Meats

Rarely, if ever, do I crave steak and eggs for breakfast. But when said steak and eggs are from Prime Meats, I'm easily swayed. Owned and operated by childhood friends Frank Falcinelli and Frank Castronovo (aka "the Franks"), this Carroll Gardens restaurant is perpetually slammed with diners. And for good reason, the food and cocktails are absolutely delicious. Described as a farm-to-table restaurant with German influences, Prime Meats specializes in pre-Prohibition era handcrafted cocktails and hearty alpine cuisine. While dinner remains their specialty, one would be foolish to overlook the solid brunch.

Aicha Restaurant: A Senegalese Oasis in Crown Heights

Amid the frenzy of Caribbean restaurants along the Bed Stuy/Crown Heights divide cutting across Nostrand Avenue, a new Senegalese restaurant recently opened in a failed jerk spot just south of Atlantic Avenue. I'm not going to pretend to know anything about Senegalese food (I don't blame you if you stop reading now), but Aicha Restaurant (pronounced "Aisha") is worth checking out for anyone looking for something different.

Senegal is in West Africa. That's as far as I read in the Wikipedia article (I kid-- I did do some actual research for this post, as you'll soon see). In NYC there's a small but noticeable Senegalese community stretching from Bed Stuy to Fort Greene and Clinton Hill, and a few Senegalese restaurants can be found as one heads down Fulton Street towards downtown Brooklyn.

Aicha is halal, so pork lovers should avoid (not really). While they also advertise "American cuisine," there's very little of it to be found. Instead, most of the dishes (I'll avoid calling them curries, but that's what they look like to me) contain beef or chicken and a bit of fish. Almost everything contains guedge (pronounced "gedge"), which is a musty, heavily fermented dried fish and a key ingredient in the coastal Wolof cuisine that predominates in the city's Senegalese restaurants. Although Senegal was a French colony, not much of what I tried seemed to have a French influence (beyond some of the dish names).

Things I'm Addicted To: Best Pizza

It takes a lot for me (or anyone) to willingly ride the G train. But wait, the G train does take me directly to one awesome place: Best Pizza. I wrote about it after my first visit, but that feels like ancient history after going many (many many) more times in the past few months.

My internal monologue typically involves a death match over what to eat for dinner and how far to travel. Yet when it comes to Best Pizza, I seemingly can rationalize the trip in an instant. Gotta take the G from Long Island City back to Brooklyn? I might as well stop at Best Pizza! Or, I'm in Williamsburg running errands, it would be a crime not to grab lunch/dinner/afternoon snack at Best Pizza! I'm in the East Village? I could take the L and cut back down...

I also rationalize visits by taking people who've never been, like my friends John and Tom this weekend and Steve a few weeks before that (these pictures are Steve's from that visit).

Traif: The Temptation of Taboo

Tasteless or tasty? That was the question many were pondering when Chef Jason Marcus, and his girlfriend, Heather Heuser, opened Traif on the border of South Williamsburg's Hasidic community last April. For the goyim among us (myself included), "traif," is the Yiddish word used to describe non-Kosher food, making it easy to imagine how a restaurant which glorifies such ingredients as shellfish and all things pig could create a substantial amount of buzz from the nearby community (not always positive). However, it wasn't Traif's peculiar name, but rather the pedigree of Chef Marcus (Le Bernardin, Eleven Madison Park) that caught our attention and prompted a visit to see whether the restaurant was more than just a gimmick.

Presidents Day Roast Beef Celebration

President's Day 2011: what's more American than drinking Budweisers and eating roast beef sandwiches for lunch? Probably blowing something up-- but I'm sure eating roast beef and drinking is at least in the top five.

As far as I know, he didn't have a moustache.

Steve, MW and I hadn't planned on a thematically relevant eating excursion, but it worked out when the picture of George Washington above stared down at us and our roast beef. George Washington founded a nation while slaughtering the British and eating roast beef (he also saved children, but not British children).

Brennan & Carr in Sheepshead Bay on the southern face of Brooklyn is full of little bits of presidential history. It's been around for thirteen presidencies. Yes, I counted in my head. Thank you very much B.A. in history.

A Brief, Torrid Love Affair with a Cheese Babka

It was only a few weeks ago when I was sitting with my friends James and Jeremy eating a Polish lunch at Lomzynianka on Manhattan Avenue in Greenpoint. Typically, I find Polish food to be among the most sensual of Eastern European cuisines, a point I tried to convey to my friends, but I was distracted by our gorgeous Polish waitress. I did clear my mind of evil thoughts for long enough to eat my rich, white borscht, flecked with bits of smokey kielbasa.

Even when our sampler platters arrived, an assortment of pierogies, kielbasa, mashed potatoes, bigos and stuffed derma, I could hardly focus on the food as I watched another beautiful woman changing in front of her open apartment window across the street. I should probably start looking for apartments in Greenpoint.

Cheese pierogi was the best bite on the plate-- a prelude of what was to come.

Lots of delicious slaws.

Roberta's: Under the Radar

Roberta's has always been far more than a meager pizza joint (albeit a very good pizza joint). Those of us willing to brave the industrial wilderness that is Bushwick are rewarded with some of the freshest and most inspired food in all of the city. Having long been a fan, MW and I had always opted for the restaurant's relatively calm brunch or lunch scene instead of their busier dinner service. Dinner was long overdue, and we were excited to see what Chef Carlo Mirarchi could do when not limited to cooking eggs or frying up excellent chicken. But despite being nominated by Food and Wine as one of the country's "Best New Chefs," Chef Mirarchi still remains mostly obscure in the public's eye (most certainly attributable to Roberta's remote location).

After recently reading about ChuckEats epic meal at Roberta's (with some equally impressive pictures from Roboppy), I couldn't help but resist from immediately making a return visit myself.  Chef Mirarchi guided us on a culinary tour de force, quite unlike anything in Manhattan, and considerably better.