Tonkotsu Heaven @ Ippudo in New York

Ippudo was definitely one of the highlights of our weeklong stay in New York last March, yes it’s taken me a long while to finally come to this point.

Sandwich Heaven at Katz

It’s been nearly a year since we were in New York and I still haven’t written about Ippudo or Katz. Disgraceful.

Shame on me as these were the two places we really wanted to eat at, and I’m glad we did as they lived up to expectations. 

Momofuku - A lush revisit

I’m a big fan of David Chang and his Momofuku Noodle Bar, this was our second visit in a couple of years and it gave us a good reminder of why we enjoyed it here the first time.

Oddly enough we actually ordered the same two dishes as last time, and what we had was as good now as it was two years ago.

Burgers @ The Corner Bistro

I cannot remember who told me about the Corner Bistro, but whoever it was, I thank you.

The pub or bar looks nothing special on the outside but inside it is a tad dingy, and I like that, I have a thing for lived in places, I find them much more interesting than sanitised restaurants that sadly are becoming the norm these days.

Burgers Heaven @ Shake Shack

I am a devotee of Shake Shack and all they do. This for me is semi burger heaven, I wish we could have Shake Shack here in London, then I would be in heaven. I should be content with Byron or even Meat Liquor etc, but I’m not. I want Shake Shack and I want it now. I’m such a fan, I even follow them on instagram. Sad I know, maybe I should start up a “Bring Shake Shack to Blighty” campaign.

The Meatball Shop

Even though I'm a big fan of meatballs in any guise, I just don’t eat enough of them. From the slightly cumin scented Moroccan to heavily spiced Indian to the herby Italian meatballs. I love them all. So why don’t I eat more of them.

So when I came across The Meatball Shop on my research for this trip, I set aside a night for these wondrous little balls of goodness.

Burger Joint at Le Parker – A Revisit

I love this place, the trashy look of the joint adds to its appeal. The fact that it sits inside the upscale Le Parker Merdien Hotel is a true testament to the great burgers that they produce.

Lobster in a roll @ Luke's

I love short menus. I hate long menus. Long menus normally mean the dishes are brought in and normally of a lower quality than if they were cooked on site. Well that does depend on the chef of course.

Some New York Coffee Shops

I always seem to map out where I can get a good cup of coffee wherever I travel to these days.

Although on that 10 week trip through 5 Asian countries with work, a year and a half a go, I never drank such bad coffee on a regular basis before. I vowed it would never happen again.

Saying that, I remember in Chile when I asked for an espresso in a coffee shop, they gave me a tin of Nescafe and a jug of hot water to make my own. Unreal. Apparently I found out Chile is bad for coffee, where as its neighbour and/or enemy, Argentina is quite good.

New York Tales : Chelsea Market

2 years ago when we were first in New York returning from our year in Colombia, we found Chelsea Market and loved it.

It was relatively unfrequented back then, and finding somewhere to eat was not a problem. Rolls on 2 years, and all this has changed. Chelsea Market is definitely one of the more popular places to eat on this side of Manhattan.

New York Tales : Amy Ruth's in Harlem

Walking around Harlem you can see the majesty it once had, the magnificent buildings and townhouses give an inkling into its once great past and hopefully resurgent future.

It’s a shame we came to Harlem midweek and not on a weekend, as the mood was slightly subdued than what we were expecting, but this did mean we were able to get a table at the institution known as Amy Ruth’s. So not all bad.

New York Tales : The Caracas Arepa Bar

After living in Colombia for nearly a year and being married to one for over 10 years, I have come to appreciate the arepa.

I have to admit it’s not my favourite food. I find it quite bland, but that may just be the Colombian arepa. Their food is rather bland anyhows.

But the wife loves them, if she could she would eat one probably twice a day everyday. Which when she is in Colombia she does.

New York Tales : Crack Pie @ The Milk Bar

The small hole in the wall that is Momofuku’s Milk Bar in the East Village was not what we were expecting.

For some reason after eating in the noodle bar a couple of times, and seeing the other restaurants I was expecting something similar.

So the surprise of finding a small shop with some other bleary eyes people queuing for one thing and one thing only was a surprise but a good one.

New York Tales : John's Pizzeria

New Yorkers claim they have the best pizza or pie (as they call it) in the world. Well they have quite a long tradition of it, with a gentleman called Gennaro Lombardo opening the first Pizzeria in Little Italy in 1905.

We were tempted to sample the pizza’s at Lombardo’s, but for some reason we just never got round to it. As is.

As we were staying quite close to West Village, John’s Pizzeria’s name crept up when we asked the hotel staff where we could get some good pizza close by.

Foto Friday # 94

A hot dog vendor selling his all beef sausages on the streets of New York

We're in New York

Yup that's right, we are in New York for a week of eating, drinking and sightseeing, although more on the first two than the latter for me.
Maybe not the best time to go away as I've no job and not much hope of finding another, but who cares.
Live for the moment is my new motto, much to my wife's dismay.

Foto Friday # 70

Sometimes it's best to go by the restaurant rules than your own.

Foto Friday # 29

I'm sure it was also. 3 Corner Field Farmers Market close to Greenwich Village

Noodle Heaven & Taxi Rides

Any restaurant named after an Elvis Costello album has to be eaten at to be believed. Momofuku is a cool noodle bar situated in the East Village. Its interior reminds me a lot of Wagamama. Long wooden benches, lots of hussle and bussle. Cool place.

We were going to come here one night to eat, bit I’m glad we didn’t, as to me it’s more of a lunchtime place than a night time place. But each to his own as they say.

I can’t actually remember what else was on the menu, as it was noodles we wanted and noodles we had.

Just before we arrived we walked past a (refuse to name) fast food joint, with a taxi outside with a sign on top saying “Be Stupid”. Excellent. I’m hoping someone paid that driver to sit outside and warn people not to eat in there. Let’s hope so.

As I said I cannot remember what else was on the menu as we were only interested in the noodles. I had the pork belly and shoulder with a poached egg ramen noodles. I got into egg and ramen soups in Japan. The runny yolk works so well with noodles. That yellow heaven mingling with those noodles. Delish. The pork belly was sweet and tender. Loved it.

Lina has the chilled spicy noodles with some nice spiced sausage and cashew nuts for a bit of texture. The chilli was mild but gave my lips a nice tingly feeling. Missed that. Been a while since we’d had cold noodles. Thankyou Nigella for introducing me to them.

The highlite was the Lagunitas IPA beer. Go there, buy the beer, read the label and you’ll know what I mean. Excellent. You only get that with small time producers. Oh, the beer was really good also.

As this was our last meal in New York and had half an hour or so to get back to the hotel for our shuttle back to Newark. So we decided to take a cab back. Unfortunately we never had a short fat bald guy, ahh 70’s heaven TV. But we did have a tele in the back.

Now I have a personal hate of taxi drivers the world over. I’m sure they all get taught how to rip their passengers off and piss them off. Whatever, from Cairo to Medellin to Hong Kong to Bangkok to Mexico City to Jo’Burg. I hate them all.

Thankfully this guy did his job ok. Got us from A to B and not via E in one piece. He didn’t try and over charge us. Maybe a newie. But I don’t understand this practice of tipping cab drivers. They don’t do anything. You pay for the ride, so why the tip?

Answers please. I’d love to know.  

A Surprise At The Market Table

I seem to have a sixth sense that maybe I was born with and has been developed over the years, or maybe it just came along recently. But I am able to sniff out good places to eat by sense. I don’t know what it is, maybe the look of the place, maybe the harmony I get from a restaurant. Or maybe, my level of food appreciation is so low that anything and everything tastes good to me. Well almost.

It happened in Chelsea Market, which is a fun place to wander around, even better if you live or work nearby. There’s a great coffee stand that makes the best espresso this side of Milan. Well apart from the Monmouth Coffee Shop in Soho. There are lots of nice places that sell soups, sandwiches, snacks etc. There is even a kitchen shop where you can get your knives sharpened once a week. Damn I wish we went day before, as my knives so need a good sharpening. Colombia trashed them.

As we were wandering around, hungry by this time. There was something about the Green Table that grabbed me as we strolled past. Took all of 10 seconds to decide to eat there. Glad we did.

The menu is seasonal, locally produced and short. Which is a blessing as reading through 5 pages menus takes away my appetite.

But I had a dilemma, either the braised chicken or the chicken potpie. Tough decisions in my life huh. Boy I wish they were all this hard. I choose the braised chicken, which sat on a bed of beautiful bed of creamy mash and moistened with some great thyme gravy. Chicken was moist and cooked perfectly, the kale still had bite to it, but the mash was divine, as mash should be.

Linas cassoulet was, as you would expect a cassoulet to be. A meaty bean stew is a meaty bean stew. But it ticked all the boxes, even the breaded crust on top tasted pretty good.

I just wished we could have had desert, but unfortunately we were stuffed. A shame as they looked lush.

The Market Table was a good find, but sometimes my magic powers do not work, as a rather bad visit to a restaurant in Marrakech springs to mind.

I am human after all.