Wise words from the Gluttonous One: Consume calories only for good food. Ban average food. And bad food? Doesn't even cut it.
The weekend past was all about food, and where else but the city, of course. Which, in my opinion, properly made up for the previous weekend's
very average food crawl. With that still fresh in my mind as I boarded the bus, I made a mental note to do some proper research and scribbled some (food!) notes in my trusty mole skin.
So late Friday as I stepped out onto 42nd and 8th, I made a quick reservation at Supper. It didn't disappoint. Supper delivered on everything - great late night gem in the neighbourhood, home-cooked food made to perfection, unpretentious quiet ambience without the flashiness. The mozzarella bufala, size of a pillow, was soft and gooey and a perfect accompaniment to the juicy tomatoes. Then came the caesar salad with black sea salt and sweetbreads. Has anyone tried sweetbreads? Looks and tastes like pan-fried foie graa. But, is nothing like it. at. all *look of disbelief* Clearly I am in denial of what I had consumed.
The next day we met Jackie at DGBG Kitchen and Bar - the latest outpost from Daniel Boulud described as 'brasserie meets diner'. The menu was decidedly French, without the snootiness. And altho, there was an entire section dedicated to sausages, we gravitated towards the more conventional brunch picks like baked eggs with caramelised onions, a wrapped crepe with sausages, eggs and gruyere called Cochon In The Blanket (cute.) and no prize for guessing what I had: brioche french toast. The portions were small but suited me just fine.
As I am writing this, I'm reliving the entire weekend again. And drooling as I go along!
With a failed trip the weekend before, we made our second attempt at Doughnut Plant and this time, bless my belly! - it was open. Fortunately, the line wasn't long (it was contained within the store at least) and after mulling over the glistening babies, we emerged with a trip of Tres Leches (cake based), Creme Brulee and Vanilla Bean. I kid you not when I say the dougnuts are to. die. for. Really! Woofed down with a steaming cuppa chai latte.. Hmmmm. Yuummm.
After catching the widely anticipated
Where The Wild Things Are, dinner that evening was at Tom Colicchio's Craftbar. The interior was a little flash hence drawing a slightly more matured crowd (mid 40s to 50s onwards) which made us feel rather out of place in our uber casual wear. As we walked in, it felt like I was visiting a friend's restaurant, cos if you watch Top Chef like I do, you'd feel like you know Tom (first name basis here, ha!). Being the harsh critic he is, we expected nothing short of great fabulous food. Each item had a great flavour profile that excited the palate and nothing was expected or ordinary. Not even the market bean salad, which Andrew couldn't stop eating, even though he's not a beans guy. (Btw the pics came out really dark, so I didn't want to disappoint anyone with bad pics. Go check it out for yourself!)
The next morning (yes, I'm giving my belly a work-out), we arrived at Joe Doe bright and early. I was counting on the grey skies cutting us some slack on the waiting time, and it did. We escaped the huge crowd that arrived later and got our tables within mere minutes. (note of caution: its an open-kitchen concept, so don't wear black. Sharon, yes you) The must-orders here are the Home Cured Pork Jowl Eggs Benedict and the oh-so-humongous Challah French Toast (okok, so I love my french toast). The waitress came over and plonked pipping hot home-made biscuits on our table. Spread with sweet butter, it was a nice treat from the rainy weather. And if I dare say, trumps Clinton St Baking Company's any time.
With a 8pm bus schedule in my hands, the weekend's food crawl was rounded up with a bowl of pork belly ramen at Momofuku (and I was reminded again, that Ippudo is still the better choice). And deciding that I couldn't possibly survive the grueling 4-hour ride home with no company, I got 2 cupcakes from Sugar Sweet Sunshine to make the trip that much bearable. Looks they didn't do too well on the ride though.
Now, was that an epic Stuffmafaceathon or what? I only hope all the walking helped to even it out, cos it looks like I'm set to repeat this all over again this weekend!
*rubs belly*
The next day we met Jackie at DGBG Kitchen and Bar - the latest outpost from Daniel Boulud described as 'brasserie meets diner'. The menu was decidedly French, without the snootiness. And altho, there was an entire section dedicated to sausages, we gravitated towards the more conventional brunch picks like baked eggs with caramelised onions, a wrapped crepe with sausages, eggs and gruyere called Cochon In The Blanket (cute.) and no prize for guessing what I had: brioche french toast. The portions were small but suited me just fine.
As I am writing this, I'm reliving the entire weekend again. And drooling as I go along!
With a failed trip the weekend before, we made our second attempt at Doughnut Plant and this time, bless my belly! - it was open. Fortunately, the line wasn't long (it was contained within the store at least) and after mulling over the glistening babies, we emerged with a trip of Tres Leches (cake based), Creme Brulee and Vanilla Bean. I kid you not when I say the dougnuts are to. die. for. Really! Woofed down with a steaming cuppa chai latte.. Hmmmm. Yuummm.
After catching the widely anticipated Where The Wild Things Are, dinner that evening was at Tom Colicchio's Craftbar. The interior was a little flash hence drawing a slightly more matured crowd (mid 40s to 50s onwards) which made us feel rather out of place in our uber casual wear. As we walked in, it felt like I was visiting a friend's restaurant, cos if you watch Top Chef like I do, you'd feel like you know Tom (first name basis here, ha!). Being the harsh critic he is, we expected nothing short of great fabulous food. Each item had a great flavour profile that excited the palate and nothing was expected or ordinary. Not even the market bean salad, which Andrew couldn't stop eating, even though he's not a beans guy. (Btw the pics came out really dark, so I didn't want to disappoint anyone with bad pics. Go check it out for yourself!)
The next morning (yes, I'm giving my belly a work-out), we arrived at Joe Doe bright and early. I was counting on the grey skies cutting us some slack on the waiting time, and it did. We escaped the huge crowd that arrived later and got our tables within mere minutes. (note of caution: its an open-kitchen concept, so don't wear black. Sharon, yes you) The must-orders here are the Home Cured Pork Jowl Eggs Benedict and the oh-so-humongous Challah French Toast (okok, so I love my french toast). The waitress came over and plonked pipping hot home-made biscuits on our table. Spread with sweet butter, it was a nice treat from the rainy weather. And if I dare say, trumps Clinton St Baking Company's any time.
With a 8pm bus schedule in my hands, the weekend's food crawl was rounded up with a bowl of pork belly ramen at Momofuku (and I was reminded again, that Ippudo is still the better choice). And deciding that I couldn't possibly survive the grueling 4-hour ride home with no company, I got 2 cupcakes from Sugar Sweet Sunshine to make the trip that much bearable. Looks they didn't do too well on the ride though.
Now, was that an epic Stuffmafaceathon or what? I only hope all the walking helped to even it out, cos it looks like I'm set to repeat this all over again this weekend!
*rubs belly*
I feel like I need Eno now.
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