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You guys should try a lot harder to get the cheese over the baked potato and not all just at the bottom of the bowl.

Love,

Erin

it is with a slap to the cheek that i write this entry as i have lived a block away from this restaurant and never tried it until last week. really? throwing distance and i wasn’t there?

after numerous positive reviews from friends i finally caved and went for a late supper with my friend bill. we perused the menu and came to simultaneous, mutual decisions but alas, many of the offerings were out of season. no monkfish liver pate for the summer. instead, we went with a succulent and unctuous pork belly that was topped with tiny dollops of kewpie brand mayo. the two of us were left drooling and ready for more. octopus balls were well seasoned, perfectly fried and a fantastic blend of crispy and chewy. we finished with an order of the salmon bombs - small slivers of raw fish topped with innovative ingredients all on rice beds. the fried chicken was mediocre - we didn’t bother with this as we were content with every thing else.

i am certainly returning to try other dishes. in the interim, please feel free to suggest entrees i should order. thanks!

today, an unexpected treat arrived in the form of my sister inviting me out for a late lunch/early supper (let’s not get into semantics here, OK?) at soba-ya, a tiny, quiet and zen-infused japanese noodle shop tucked next to a holistic pet shop. it almost makes perfect sense!

clean aesthetic matched the flavors of everything. my sister, a veteran of this restaurant, suggested that we start with the boiled spinach and sesame. i immediately blanched, thinking this sounded kind of gross, and when it arrived, a lump of smashed greens on a tiny square plate, i just about congratulated myself…that is, until i tasted it. simple. unpretentious. delicious.  “though it could use a little peppery kick,” i muttered, finishing off the dish.

i had a small appetizer portion of shrimp tempura and it was not so good - oily, mushy and spongy. however, this was all made up for by the soba i ordered: cold, unadorned and served with a side of hot broth with duck breast. the noodles have the perfect texture - not over cooked like at other places, and have a good, chewy bite. the duck soup was more like a gravy and i took to slathering the slices of meat over my noodles before stuffing the whole mess into my face. result? happiness! no more cranky pants!

the service is lovely - polite, and like all good superstitious japanese places, they insist on everyone saying goodbye to you as you leave (it’s for good luck). well, good luck for me because i’ll be back soon!  good luck for them because next time i’m going in with a real appetite and ordering one of everything on the menu. keep it comin’!!!

all this damn eating and i haven’t shared a single morsel with you. how do you feel? hungry? enraged? indignant? well tough titties, my friends, you’re going to soldier through this.

i’ve been on a soup dumpling kick as of late, though these damn things are dangerous if you don’t learn to eat them properly. step one: lift one out of the bamboo steamer as gently as possible and gently place onto your soup spoon. take a very, very, gentle hesitant nibble unless you want to blind yourself or anyone within a five foot radius. we’re talking hot broth and pork, people! now, remember what your grandmother taught you about not slurping? well throw all that fucking manner out the window and make as much noise as you can, sucking out the broth and trying not to singe your tongue. when you reach the morsel of pork, eat that, and then savor the delicate layer of the wrapper, so gentle, so doughy yet so pliant. kind of like a real doll, but edible.

oh, the downside of these things is that they make you fart like the dickens so either go to a loud bar afterwards or just blame it on the cats. you know what i do? the old rodney dangerfield routine: “did somebody step on a duck?!”

Travis got way more worked up about this than I did, because he is a man, thus doesn’t spend 88% of his day wondering how he might legally acquire a tapeworm. I was all, “Yeah? Fat girls need fat cream. *I* need fat cream! I need to rub cream on my fat!!!”

Then I calmed down and ate a whole thing of Haagen Dazs Reserve (motto: “When Super-Premium Just Isn’t Enough”) Toasted Coconut Seasame Brittle ice cream, which is the very best kind of fat cream.

(Insert here a rant about how even the thinnest woman can have cellulite, how we’re all offended at the massive marketing misogyny, how we should start a revolution and love our bodies, etc etc etc. I really don’t care anymore, because I’m thinking about ice cream now, and how it’s my birthday week, so I can eat all the cupcakes and ice cream I want. And also how I might buy Cooking Mama 2.)

h/t Cupcakes take the Cake

last night i wound up hanging out with rich and roland and we smoked some w33d and went here for dinner.

oh my god.

duck and rabbit liver paté, not just once, but twice. the first time as an appetizer, the second time, to smear on our ANGUS STEAKS. this we called “meat butter” or “mutter” for short.

that’s right, the three of us ordered the same main course: angus steak (mine was extra rare, woo!), parsnip puree and sugar snap peas sauteed with shallots.

we floated home in a haze of fat, meat sweats and giddiness.

Dear Mr. (Ms.?) Kangaroo,

Thank you for letting us eat you. You were very delicious.

Love,

Erin and also Travis

sometimes i feel bad for vegetarians and vegans, as they often get the shaft at eateries. this is usually true if you want to fully experience korean food, as just about everything has meat or seafood in it. sure, you could stick to the bibimbap, “no meat, no egg,” but it’s just a bowl of charred rice and some vegetables and hot sauce. while it’s delicious, it’s not just full representative of all the offerings that korean restaurants have to offer.

enter hangawi, the vegan midtown eatery located right in the middle of what is known as “koreatown.” i’ve been meaning to try this place for ages, but was warned away with a “it’s kind of bland.” but curiosity prevailed, and i finally broke down and made reservations. having a vegetarian dining companion helps with this sort of thing; you find yourself avoiding french bistros.

dimly lit and cozy, and requiring you to take your shoes off, hangawi reminds me of a japanese temple, or perhaps a quieter, more zen like version of the now-defunct zen palate in union square. the waitstaff mince back and forth in stockinged feet and are attentive, kneeling down to your level with elbows perched on wooden stools. the tables are actually platforms set into the floor so that you’re not eating really on the carpet, cross legged.

we perused the menu and ordered accordingly:

korean pear delight juice - not sweet at all, and “tastes exactly like a pear” 7$

first pick green tea leaves - there was a three minute demonstration on how to brew this properly, which i suppose demands the 10$ price tag (p.s. if you like your tea more intense, steep it for longer than the recommended 30 seconds)

steamed dumplings - four delicious morsels stuffed with vegetables and ground tofu

silken tofu stew - the vegan version of soondubu chigae, my favorite. sure, i missed the depth that the shellfish usually brings, but it was quite bracing.

i had the tofu bibimbap with extra hot sauce. it was OK, nothing particularly fascinating, and the hot stone bowl didn’t do much to sear and crisp the rice enough to my liking

JP had the genghis khan soup made from root vegetables and mushrooms and served with vermicelli. light and sweetly savory from the onions.

to finish, we ordered the tofu cheesecake, which was surprisingly good and not at all too “tofu-ey”, and the chocolate pudding, which was not heavy on the chocolate, but more like pudding with chocolate.

fully sated (actually, i was stuffed and waddled out on my heels, to be honest), we wandered back into the din that is 32nd street, completely negating all the comfort we’d just experienced for the past two hours. the bill, before tip? 100$  (we’d ordered a bottle of sparkling water as well)

if you’re vegan or vegetarian and don’t hate mushrooms as the menu is very heavy on the fungus, then i recommend you give this place a try. it’s a pleasant change of pace from the brightly lit, korean pop music blaring restaurants where your clothes are inevitably marinated in the smoke of meats barbecuing on the grill.

because there aren’t enough italian restaurants in williamsburg:
i should talk about dinner at fiore, this new italian restaurant that opened up on grand street between roebling and havermeyer. it’s cozy, nicely lit and inexpensive (cash only though, and it’s BYO for now, if you care about that kind of stuff). my friend carrie anne was the server, and she laughed when i ordered for me and JP, saying that i eats the same way she does. i can only surmise she meant “greedy little piglet.”

we had: