Food and Drink: November 2005 Archives

    ABrooklynlife went to Lolita Bar on Broome Street this past weekend for a friend's good old-fashioned birthday soiree.  We gathered early in the basement and staked our claim, which was a good thing because by midnight, the basement was packed enough to be moderately uncomfortable. The main floor was so tight that getting a drink really was a test of will and dependent on one's ability to scurry sideways like a crab.
    We had a fabulous time wishing our friend a very happy birthday. But there was one problem: Boys at this bar seem unable to hold themselves.  Being in the path of much foot traffic on the way to the bathroom, we witnessed many a drunken dude saunter up to the bathroom in an attempt to cut the often lengthy line (always men who don't see the line isn't it?). 
    This obnoxious procession was by no means exceptional, until we watched Brazen Asshole come up with a rather jaw-dropping solution. It's something akin to what my grandmother used to call "passing the mayonnaise jar." Yes, after being turned to the end of the line at the bathroom door, Brazen Asshole proceeds to rummage around a small ledge for an empty glass, turns his back to the crowd, unzips his pants, and pees into the cup! He then replaces the cup on the ledge and walks back upstairs.
    This had me thinking back to another strange experience I had at a bar--this one at The Hook in Red Hook for a GZA show. (Anyone who was there will remember Mr. GZA's favorite line "I don't give a fuck."  Does he say that at every show or just when playing in Red Hook to a sparse, motley crowd of hipsters and locals?) Anyway, while lounging in the back courtyard before the performance, we became acquainted with Desperate Beer-Drinking Hippie. DBDH didn't like to spend money on beer, so his tactic was to walk around picking up near-empty glasses of beer and finish those last, precious spit-warmed drops. In awe, we watched him infiltrate multiple groupings of discarded glasses, and also witnessed a particularly brazen attack on a full glass of beer.
    "Hey, you guys got any beer I could have?" DBDH asks a crowd.
    "Uh, no, not really," comes the startled reply.
    Most would leave defeated, but not DBDH, who continues to hang around and beg for beer, until someone finally says, "If I give you beer will you leave?" They did, but he did not.
    DBDH was right to seek fresh sources of inebriation, and here is where we learn the ultimate lesson, one that I hope everyone takes with them for this holiday season of over-indulgence. New York is simply not a safe city to be drinking the last bits of other people's beer.

    Peace. And I'll be seeing ya later!

    ABrooklynlife is taking a little jaunt to sunny California to see the sights in San Francisco and L.A. until December 1. She may or may not post her misadventures, but feel free to talk amongst yourselves.

Interesting story in the Post about restaurateurs at Upper East Side Jovia, who are circulating questionnaires to get diner feedback about their new Italian restaurant. Not the worst idea in the world. Much more interesting though, is that Stephen Hanson of the huge B.R. Guest restaurant conglomerate has this to say about the surveys:

Stephen Hanson, whose B.R. Guest opens at least one new place a year and has thousands of seats at the likes of Dos Caminos and Ruby Foo's, praised the Loffredos as "superior, successful operators" but questions the questionnaires' value.

"I don't know if it's a smart idea to ask the customer," the way it's being done at Jovia, Hanson says. "To me, it shows signs of weakness — what should we be?

Funny, cause I just dined at his new Barça 18 restaurant at Park Avenue and 18th Street--and guess what I got at the end of the meal? A comment card! Not quite the same as a survey, but it seems that Stephen is being a tad too critical given his own restaurant's practices.

Having spent five years in Atlanta, I appreciate a good Southern barbecue, and my ears always perk up when I hear there's a new place in town. Pioneer Bar-B-Q in Red Hook (formerly Pioneer Bar, really the same bar but with barbecue) has entered the barbecue pack, and since there's no good barbecue in our corner of Brooklyn, I give two thumbs up. There was only one kind of barbecue on the menu at our visit--a tasty beef brisket--and truth be told it's a little dry until you layer on some spicy sauce, still not bad at all for a $6 sandwich. The real gem at Pioneer is the mac and cheese ($9), served in a bubbling cauldron with a layer of browned cheesy crust. Mixed throughout the calorie intensive feast is a chipotle sauce, which lights a friendly fire. Throw in a pint of Sixpoint Ale for maximum enjoyment.

OK. I love Sabra hummus. In fact, I consumed an entire extra-large container of it over the past two nights. However, I had no idea the product could be sculpted into a bust of Bloomberg.

Abrooklynlife hit up The Chocolate Show this weekend, because what's better than consuming oodles of truffle samples at 11am on a Sunday morning? Turns out mid morning is a wee bit early to start consuming mass amounts of chocolate, but we managed to stuff ourselves anyway. The favorite items came from Bissinger's chocolate. The company's blueberry bark, a layer of semi-dried blueberries covered with dark chocolate gave a nice respite from the all-chocolate madness, as did the little squares of crunchy black sesame seeds, covered in chocolate--part of the company's "spa chocolate" line. Still, who's complaining about too much chocolate? Local favorites Jacques Torres and Payard  were there, along with the Japan-based Mary's Chocolate, which had an elaborate set-up including several 3-D chocolate paintings. Still, I never figured out where those crepes everyone was walking around with came from. Sigh.

Went on a mini bar crawl last night. Started at the new Camp on 179 Smith Street. It used to be a salsa-y place, and it's just been converted into a urban lodge. They definitely went all out on the camp theme--some antlers, a stuffed deer head, another strange creature's head attached to the wall that reminded me of something out of Star Wars, tree bark on the ceiling. I overheard someone way that the friendly bartender used to work at Bar 4 in Park Slope. I guess time will tell whether the trick will sink or swim. Beers during happy hour are two-for-one (Blue Point on tap), so you can't argue with that.

Next, headed to Boat to get in a little shuffleboard bowling action, only to find--GASP--that it is no longer there. Apparently it broke, and the owners replaced it with a pinball machine (that is also currently broken, no doubt by angry indie rockers taking out their bowling aggression on the poor pinball machine). Happy hour at Boat, by the way, is $3 beers, so take that, Camp!

Last, but definitely not least, I hit up Ceol, which is basically Smithwicks painted green on the outside, except with nicer people. If you go, you must go on Wednesday, and you must make immediate friends with the Irish bartender. This will not be too hard, and she may climb over the bar to hug you. With an energy drink in one hand and a few bar tricks up her sleeve, this lady is by far the most entertaining drink-slinger I've experienced in Brooklyn. A little crazy? Sure. But with not-too-annoying live Irish music (two fiddles and a guitar) in the background, and Guinness flowing from the tap, you'll think you accidentally hopped a plane to some small but raucous Irish town and never look back.

Had the pleasure of dining at the new Cube 63 on Court Street the other night; it's an offshoot of Cube 63 in the Lower East Side. (The website is here, but it crashed Firefox when I tried it.) Best sushi I've had in the neighborhood, definitely one of the better looking dining rooms in the neighborhood too, but even if it was a mercilessly ugly box, I'd still be going back for the sushi. The restaurant is located in the former space of the kids' store Laughing Giraffe, and the below-street-level room has wholly been changed, very sleek and sexy with a blue/grey and black color scheme and delicate chandeliers made from translucent  shells. There's even a little lounge or private party room in the back that wasn't being used during our visit.

As for the food, the wasabi shumai had just the right hint of the nose-clearing spice that just happens to be one of my favorites. We sampled yellowtail, Spanish mackerel, arctic char and oro toro on special from the sushi menu, and not one of the huge pieces of fish draped over a mound of rice disappointed. Of the rolls, the Mexican with jalapeno, spicy salmon and whitefish was my favorite for tang, while we found the Tahiti with tempura shrimp, eel, cream cheese and fish eggs a very comforting non-confrontational roll.  We were ordering a bit timidly as we always tend do when trying a new sushi spot, but next time I might be more adventurous and opt for the omakase dinner. Prices were reasonable as well, with sushi about $3 a piece ($8 for the oro toro), regular rolls about $5 and specialty about $12.  Oh, and it's BYOB. Bon appetite.

Has any one else had an experience there? While Cube63 is a little far from our place, it's a definite upgrade from Fujiya, which has gone down in quality of late. I've actually never been to Osaka, as everyone I've ever asked about it has always said decent things about it, but followed that up with the word "expensive."

Photo to come ...

Hot on the heels of P.J. Hanley's closing, ABrooklynLife gets word through a faithful reader that the much-loved pizza place Leonardo's at 383 Court Street is soon to be a Dunkin' Donuts.  Say it ain't so!

Either the folks over at P.J. Hanley's on Court Street are doing some extensive renovation, or the old-school neighborhood restaurant and bar has closed for good, as the owner predicted earlier this year. The place was one of the oldest in the city, opening in 1874. I might get skewered by long-time neighborhood people for this, but I never liked the place. I can't blame the people who'd been going there forever for very obviously not wanting anyone in their bar who wasn't born and raised in the neighborhood, but it certainly didn't endear any love from those who just moved in. It also wasn't really a place for women, and the few times I'd gather up the courage to walk in and have a beer, my entrance was marked by a complete silence at the bar. Who knows, maybe the boys would have warmed up after a few drinks, but the chilly reception was always enough to send me elsewhere. Still, I will raise a pint tonight in honor of the neighborhood institution that has fallen.

Went to hear a reading by Julie Powell of the Julie/Julia Project blog last night at KGB Bar, which chronicled her attempts at cooking her way through Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking, one day at a time for an entire year. Back in the day, when my innocent little cyberspace self first started at an internet company (well past that period of time when people were making money and well into that period where people were losing it), my new coworkers began sending me time-wasting edifying links to various sites that would surely improve my understanding of the Web and its function across a range of diverse and utterly wholesome subject matters. Having spent the previous two and a half years slaving away at grad school (I still remember the first time a fellow grad student suggested I use Google for an academic-related search--how quaint), reading snarky commentary about the minutea of other people's lives was at once refreshing and yet somehow strangely familiar. As a result of those happy, time-wasting IMs, The Julie/Julia project became favorite daily reading material around the office, especially amongst those who were attempting to create some semblance of modern domesticity at home. While this was not me, reading her blog sticks in my memory as a moment where the internet reached across its techy divide and became a place where ordinary people could star in their own public--and often very amusing--dramas. I was hooked.   So congrats to Julie for getting her book, Julie and Julia: 365 Days, 524 Recipes, 1 Tiny Apartment Kitchen, published even if the NYTimes doesn't love it (I haven't read the book yet, so I can't say if it's awesome or underwhelming). I also saw Amanda Hesser, who was there reading from her book Cooking for Mr. Latte. As is often the case, she was not what I expected.

Julie also has a new blog.