I'm a Food Blogger and I Ate a Sandwich!

Sorry for the sarcasm, but I haven't had anything interesting to say lately. That said, I'd like to announce that the other night, at Jodough, the new sandwich shop and second restaurant from chef and owner Joe Dobias, I ate a sandwich. I know, I know, this was a very important occasion, wholly worth writing about. I probably would have just gone on with my life, keeping my new-found sandwich wisdom to myself, had I not experienced a few minor irritations with, what on the whole was a good sandwich.

It was pouring outside when I walked into JoeDough, Dobias was cooking in back and a woman took orders at the long counter up front. Being a conflicted Jew myself, it seemed natural to order the "Conflicted Jew" sandwich which comes with chicken liver, bacon and onions on challah. However, I'd gorged on my grandmother's chopped liver over the Thanksgiving weekend, and was feeling momentarily less conflicted. Instead I went with the "L.E.S. French Dip," which comes with griddled tongue, a horseradish mayo and au jus (menu here).

I asked for a glass of ice water and the counterwoman replied, "we can't really give you water if we're selling it." Touché, I guess. Also be aware that it's cash only, and all sandwiches are $10 including tax, which makes me wonder what the value proposition is with the "Wedge Sandwich" of iceberg lettuce and blue cheese dressing. Someone else is going to have to order that to find out. (Just found a picture here. Doesn't seem worth it, does it?)

Anyway, after a few minutes my sandwich was complete and ready to be devoured. Alongside the sandwich, the au jus sat steaming in a tall, narrow "We are Happy to Serve You" cup. Not an ideal jus delivery system. The realization that I couldn't actually dip my french dip hit me hard, so I resorted to more drastic means. First, I tried to simply pour the jus over the sandwich, but this did little, as the salty jus simply flowed out the ass-end and onto my tray. Then I hit on a better idea, I'd take a mouthful of jus before taking a bite of the sandwich, ideally injecting the jus into the bread intra-orally. This worked slightly better, but was awkward as hell. It would help if the sandwich, served on a brioche-like roll, was cut in half (or better yet, served on a long baguette or roll like the classic French Dip), because once I was actually able to dip the bread, I got some excellent bites.

Regardless, I enjoyed the sandwich. The griddled tongue and horseradish sauce raised the obvious comparison to an Arby's roast beef sandwich, but the quality of the ingredients made it far superior. Being a tongue lover, I could appreciate the meaty bite of the sandwich versus the weak, almost paste-like consistency of a crappy Arby's roast beef. All that's needed for sandwich nirvana are a few minor adjustments. Seeing as they've only been open a few weeks, hopefully Dobias is still toying around with sandwich components and will hear my jus problems.

Joe Dough
135 First Avenue (btwn St. Marks and 9th St.)
New York, NY 10003 (212) 780-9222

Momofuku Ssäm Bar Through the Years

It's almost impossible to add anything that hasn't already been said about Momofuku Ssäm Bar. Since its opening in 2006, it's become one of Manhattan's most popular restaurants. Under the early guidance of Tien Ho (current Executive Chef at Má Pêche), Ssäm Bar burst onto the scene with three stars by Frank Bruni (after an initial two). Currently helmed by Chef de Cuisine, Ryan Miller, it has remained a fixture on the S. Pellegrino World's 50 Best Restaurants since 2009 and has shown no signs of slowing down. So instead of rehashing every meal eaten here, I found it more apropos to examine Ssäm Bar's evolution over the years.

Kajitsu: Hope Springs Eternal

Despite some recent traction, vegetarian cuisine, let alone vegan, has always been a tough sell to the vast majority of Americans. However, a few select restaurants thrive by embracing this cuisine, capturing a loyal following along the way.

One such restaurant is Kajitsu. Specializing in shojin cuisine, a traditional style of cooking originally eaten by Japanese Buddhist monks, they're producing some of the freshest most delicious food in all of New York. This honor is due large in part to the restaurant's talented Executive Chef, Masato Nishihara. With an extensive background in both kaiseki and soba, Chef Nishihara trained at several prominent restaurants in Japan before finding himself in Manhattan's East Village. Constantly innovating, Chef Nishihara creates an original kaiseki-inspired menu each month, never repeating a single dish. This creativity is but one detail that has helped earn Kajitsu two Michelin stars in 2011 and brought shojin cuisine out of relative obscurity and onto the culinary map.

Damn You (Walt) Whitmans

I really want to like Whitmans, and I actually kind of do. The problem is, despite the fact that "like" is the strongest positive reinforcement you can give on Facebook, in real life and in NYC, "like" simply isn't good enough any more (especially with so many great burger options).

For example, if I were in the area for lunch and craving a burger (a typical occurrence), I'd choose Brindle Room in an instant. When placed side by side with Whitman's dry-aged burger (pictured below), there's no comparison.

What's the best way to ruin a dry-aged burger? Add horseradish sauce, which completely masked the flavor of the dry-aged beef. I've never been much of a fan of cheddar on my burgers either. However, I do have to give them credit for using what looks to be Martin's "Big Marty" sesame seed rolls-- a personal favorite of mine.

Bold Burgers at Brindle Room

Most everything in NYC was closed the day after the Great Blizzard of 2010. Frantically calling restaurants around town, phones just rang endlessly, disappointing me at every turn ("uh, can you accomodate a group of 9?"), but Brindle Room came through in the clutch. I guess it's not surprising, since chef and owner Jeremy Spector apparently lives above his cozy East Village spot. Lucky for us, and we each eventually fought through the snow (and public transportation hell) to fill nearly half of the narrow restaurant.

Steve accidentally called it "The Bindle Room," which sounds like a secret hobo hangout, but it's actually very nice inside. Dark wood dominates, with two rows of hightops leading up to a long bar in the back of the restaurant.

That day the burgers were very good. Sure, there were some minor issues, but for obvious reasons I was in a forgiving mood. Even so, I was floored by how much complex, dry aged flavor was packed into the beef, which dominated in a way that seemed even more pure than the infamous Minetta Tavern Black Label Burger (and at $12, for half the price). However, I had some minor issues with the cheese selection (no American?) and the fries were nothing special.

Xi'an Famous Foods Goes Mainstream

Looking for a cheap, quick dinner before the Built to Spill show at Irving Plaza on Wednesday night,  Xi'an Famous Foods on St. Marks was the obvious choice. I've been a regular at the newest outpost since it first opened in late June (I was there on opening day for my free pork burger too-- yes I'm very special-- now who wants to touch me?).

I met my friends Dave and Eric at my apartment for a few pre-show beers before heading down to Second Avenue to look for a cab. The competition was vicious. An elderly couple jockeyed for position with younger businessmen while every cab going downtown was full of passengers. We pulled our first karmic dick move of the night by walking up a block, sidestepping our fiercest competitors. The second occurred soon thereafter, when Dave hailed a cab going down a side street while a guy our age watched helplessly at the corner. He really should have said something, but this is NYC, so anything goes. We did have to circle back around and got stuck in some hellish traffic on our way downtown, so our fare was an extra five dollars. That was plenty of karmic comeuppance right? Either that or we figured Dave would get hit by a car to balance out the universe.

Kaiseki at Kyo Ya

Kaiseki. A simple yet mysterious word to most Americans, "kaiseki" refers to a traditional Japanese multi-course meal emphasizing only the freshest seasonal ingredients served in various preparations. I've been puzzled by the lack of New York restaurants specializing in kaiseki considering America's fascination with "omakase," the Japanese equivalent to a tasting menu.

My initial kaiseki experience was at a ryokan, or a traditional Japanese inn, in Kyoto, Japan. Upon my return to Tokyo, I was fortunate enough to try a modern-day interpretation of a kaiseki meal at Nihonryori RyuGin (Two Michelin Stars) and was blown away by the exotic ingredients, stunning presentations and incredible flavors. So when I read about Kyo Ya, an almost hidden gem of a restaurant specializing in kaiseki, my reservation was all but booked.

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.