Anyone who follows the culinary scene in NYC in the slightest knows the name Momofuku and all that it connotes: brilliant and inventive chef David Chang, the deification of all things pork, a re-imagining of Asian flavors and those infamous pork belly buns. The first Momofuku restaurant to open was a noodle bar, and its immediate success led to the opening of two other full service restaurants. Though all share a stark interior and casual atmosphere, each restaurant stands alone in its culinary offerings and ambitions. I have dined at all three of the Momofuku restaurants and loved my experience at them all.
However, when I learned that a Momofuku Milk Bar was opening, I had been suffering from Momofuku fatigue. All the media coverage and blog hype surrounding the other restaurants (justifiably), and the buildup surrounding the opening of the Milk Bar had me envisioning rabid foodies clamoring to get their first taste and storming the web with their initial impressions. It all seemed so exhausting. I was also thrown by the concept of a Momofuku bakery. I could understand the Momofuku chain evolving to include the other restaurants, from the impressive Ssam Bar to the hyper-ambitious Ko, but a dessert bar? I had my suspicions and decided I could wait a while before trying it out.
Four months later, I was ultimately persuaded to visit the Milk bar by my good friend who has an insatiable sweet tooth. After her hearing her rave about the cakes there on more than one occasion, I decided that I would have to sample the goods for myself. I am not much of a sweets person, a trait I felt would bode well in determining if the Milk Bar was worthy of joining the other Momofuku restaurants in the dining firmament of excellence. I visited early on a Monday evening, and was surprisingly charmed by its appearance. The Milk Bar is consistent in its minimal decor to the other Momofuku establishments, with blonde wood communal counters to stand around. The lighting is dim for a bakery, but makes sense visually as it is connected to sister restaurant Ssam Bar. However, unlike the other Momofuku, the Milk Bar is warmer and more inviting, with a hand scrawled menu on chalkboards that hang above the counter. Another factor I appreciated was its open baking area, where you can watch the pastries and cookies being prepared by the pastry cooks. After having consumed unlimited mussels at a nearby seafood restaurant, I knew I would have to be narrow and wise in my selection.
After consulting with the friendly staff behind the counter and my friend, we settled on a slice of their banana cake and an assortment of cookies. The banana cake was a multi-layered beauty with a banana cake base interspersed with layers of banana cream and crunchy hazelnut bits. It was topped with a thick layer of gianduja fudge. The banana cream was the highlight for me, as it was rich and full of pure banana flavor, but remarkably light. It served well to join together the various textural elements, from the bready cake to the crunchy bits and creamy topping. The cookies we tried were the blueberry cream, the "compost" cookie, and the cornflake-marshmallow-chocolate chip. Each cookie was generously sized and, like the cake, satisfied the palate texturally. The centers were soft and chewy, but were ringed with a enjoyable crisp and had a nice density that was very satisfying. Given my general lack of enthusiasm for sweets, I was impressed that neither the cake nor cookies were overwhelmingly saccharine, and the cake lacked the cloying, artificial nature that can be customary of banana desserts, especially. The Milk Bar also serves up an eclectic assortment of soft-serve flavors, a collection of baked breads (banana green curry!), pies and shakes. For those who want to snack on something more savory, there is an abbreviated menu of bar snacks that include those fabulous pork buns as well as other porcine-friendly rolls and muffins. As an added treat, the Milk Bar also offers beloved Portland-based Stumptown coffee and popular Korean canned juices and sodas.
I left the Milk Bar thoroughly impressed by the indisputable caliber of its treats and its casual, comfortable ambiance. After having seeing the creative scope of Milk Bar pastry chef Christina Tosi's menu and having experienced the quality of the goods personally, I understood exactly how the Milk Bar fit into the Momofuku family. The Milk Bar exemplifies the same commitment to originality and novel flavor pairings that has defined the other Momofuku branches, along with technical skill and execution. I am looking forward to many more visits in the future.
Susan Kum
Momofuku Bakery-Milk Bar
207 Second Avenue
New York, NY 10003
212-254-3500
My mother recently visited the "Big Apple" from Texas in order to help my oldest sister and her family of four begin a smooth transition to their new-fangled life in New York from their older one in California. Hence, she was "The Babysitter." As much as she loves being around my sister and her grandchildren, I knew that my mom needed to allocate the last hours of her day to mature conversation while sipping an adult beverage. When I asked for suggestions on where to take my mother for dinner and drinks on the Upper West Side, I was stunned to find the answer in Patsy's Pizzeria.
I have walked the streets of Manhattan one hundred times over, passing the numerous Patsy's locations with only a notion of, "oh that's a cute place," but never with any intentions of dining there. Now, I am frustrated with myself to have ever let the experience pass me by. Not only was the company of my mom and sister delightful, but the wine, food, and atmosphere were delicious and comforting at a highly reasonable price.
The menu contains small and large sizes of coal oven pizzas (offering every topping known to man), an array of soups and salads, and nearly twenty different pasta bowls (individual or family style). For the three of us, we decided on three different salads, which we would then pass, as well as one family style pasta bowl.
Now, which bowl to select? I knew all of the pasta options were cooked in the classic Italian manner. You could smell the tradition before you with each passing plate. We decided on the Chicken Cacciatore and prayed that it was a good decision while munching on our homemade dinner rolls dipped in extra virgin olive oil (a.k.a. Heaven with a proofing period).
As noted in a recent article, staying faithful to a region is the best way to pair wine with food. Since I was going to be eating Italian cuisine, I decided to select a Montepulciano d'Abruzzo
and "kept em' coming" for the remainder of the meal.
During the few lulls of conversation, I couldn't help but notice the amount of children and families that were dining at Patsy's. But, I could very well turn my head in another direction and see a youthful couple out on a date. The noise was boisterous without being annoying, in the "Old Italian" style...in Manhattan of course.
The waiter placed a gigantic bowl of Chicken Cacciatore in the center of the table and our eyes grew to the size of our dinner plates. The portion could have easily served a family of four or five, but we dug in as if the three of us were eating for two, and I can assure you none of us are! The flavors in our mouths made us want to savor each bite a moment longer before we had to swallow,--even knowing that we were going to get another bite.
When asked what we wanted for dessert, we could only answer, "a doggy bag please."
Hailee Moore
Patsy's Pizzeria
Upper West Side Location:
61 West 74th Street, New York
(212) 579-3000
In this economy, eating out for lunch is a real treat. One Monday, not wanting to waste the opportunity, my aunt and I chose Marliave Restaurant in Boston's financial district for a catch-up lunch. Although the surrounding construction site detracts from the outer aesthetics, the inside is authentic and plays well off the old French and new American menu. Under the direction of Grotto Restaurant owner Scott Herrit, Marliave, which originally graced the same location in the 1800s, was reborn.
At first, I was overwhelmed by the different levels of dining inside the restaurant. Essentially, they offer two different dining experiences with different menus. On the top floor, the fine dining or "continental cuisine" area consists of modern chairs, sunlight windows and a contemporary atmosphere. Downstairs is more appropriate for lunch; it boasts a bootlegging theme as well as some of the original French menu items from the location's historical beginnings: old-fashioned tin ceilings and walls coupled with the original tiled floors from when the restaurant was first opened in 1885. The cozy atmosphere is perfect for the hustle and bustle of a busy lunch crowd. We decided to go downstairs.
I will definitely return to sample some of their creative drink concoctions, but for lunch, it was chamomile tea for me. That said, I should tell you that they have a speakeasy-themed drinks menu including a pitcher of martinis called the FDR, which they serve in honor of prohibition's end. They also boast having a Kold-Draft ice machine, which creates giant ice cubes from distilled water that melts more slowly, leaving the punch in your beverage intact. Alas, I will need to return to try this out.
I was thankful for the tea as I poured over the menu. As usual, I was unable to decide. The menu is original, yet I recognized most everything. For example, they had a grilled ham and gruyère cheese sandwich, but titled it "Mr. Marliave." They also have a Croque Madame with the name "Mrs. Marliave." More modern twists on traditional fare include fois gras sliders, duck meatballs and wonderful raw bar options such as oysters, clams and caviar.
I wanted something a little more substantial, so I chose the farm-raised mussels in a garlic sauce with roasted tomatoes and white wine. The mussels were the perfect consistency and the sauce was light and tangy; warm with a lovely texture. The portion size was just right as well, as I had plenty of room for my main course once I soaked up the last bit of broth. Meanwhile, people started to stream into the restaurant. I was relieved we arrived before the main lunch crowd. I would recommend dinner reservations.
Feeling healthy and anti-carb, I passed up the tempting pizza option and went with the trout dish for my main course. This took a lot of deliberation with my aunt and our helpful server. In the end, I decided on two fillets of trout sandwiched with spinach, jumbo shrimp and tomatoes. The chef certainly impressed me; he accommodated me by seasoning and cooking the fish to a slight crisp—just the way I wanted it. The presentation and taste were well worth the $18.
My aunt went with homemade fettuccini pasta with lobster, spinach and tomatoes in a light cream sauce. It was lighter and more aromatic than I expected, with large chunks of Boston lobster abound. With no room in our stomachs, we decided to forgo dessert. Overall, we enjoyed a warm, comforting lunch on a cold winter Monday. I will definitely return!
Marliave is located at 10 Bosworth St., Boston, MA 02108. Call (617) 422-0004 for more details.
Valentine's Day is a celebration of your love for another. While that's all well and good, if you are not in a loving relationship, Valentine's Day becomes more of a day of brooding bitterness and an overindulgence of calories. I may not be in a loving relationship with a man, but I am in several loving relationships with my girlfriends. This Valentine's Day, instead of curling up with a pint of Ben and Jerry's and Lifetime movies, I organized a dinner party to celebrate my love for my lovely ladies.
After pronouncing Chocolate Is My Boyfriend I headed home to whip up my own chocolaty bites of Heaven. I melted a Valrhona chocolate bar with a pat of butter and a pint of heavy cream on low heat. Once that mixture came together, which took a tad longer than expected as I used too much cream, I dipped twenty beautiful strawberries into the chocolaty batter and placed them in the refrigerator to cool. The chocolate was a bit too liquidy from the cream, so I was not too sure how my dessert was going to turn out, but the leftover chocolate that was on the spoon tasted so incredibly yummy that I was quickly reassured that the strawberries would be delicious.
Next I busted out my mandoline. I was both excited and nervous, as I had never before used my mandoline and I am more than a tad bit clumsy. I took one last sip of my wine before picking up the first sweet potato, figuring that someone as accident prone as I should not consume alcohol while working with a super sharp blade. I am happy to report that all my fingers are still in tact and no one ate bites of nail with their appetizer. After slicing the remainder of my spuds, I tossed them with olive oil, salt, and red pepper flakes and sent them into the oven. Now that the dangerous part of the cooking was done, I resumed my celebration of love by cheering with the girls and refilling everyone's glasses. Once the sweet potatoes were beginning to golden, I mixed them together with low fat mayo, fresh basil, and some lemon juice to serve as a dip for our naturally low fat pre-dinner snack. Sweet potatoes are one of my favorite foods as they are not only really good for you, but they taste really great no matter how you prepare them. I filled the girls' plates with a generous helping of baked sweets and a dollop of dip. Less than five minutes later, we all went back for seconds...and then thirds.
After taking a bit of a breather to digest, which we amply aided with gossip and girly chatter, I filled my pasta pot with water to begin dinner. I diced a liberal amount Italian semi-dry sausage into bite size pieces to be tossed into a few tablespoons of melted butter. While the sausage browned in the butter, filling my apartment with all kinds of delicious smells, I split two-dozen grape tomatoes in half and grated a fist full of Pecorino Romano cheese. Nothing says, "I love you" like cheese. Well, maybe diamonds, but we didn't have any diamonds to share, so cheese would have to do.
After the sausage cooked, I added the tomatoes and turned down the flame so that they could simmer in their own juices. I salted the water for the pasta and tossed in a pound of rotini. Next, I added a pint of heavy cream to the simmering mixture and stirred continuously. I realize that heavy cream seems to be the theme around my dinner party, and while that was unintentional, no one complained as a room full of single ladies are not too calorie conscious on Valentine's Day. A few minutes before the pasta was perfectly al dente, I mixed the Pecorino Romano in with the tomatoes, semi-dry sausage, cream, and butter and had the girls set the table for dinner.
We are a very chatty bunch, but for the first few minutes of dinner, everyone was silent as forks full of pasta danced around in our mouths. "Lexi, this is scrumptious," said one. "Mmmmm, I freaking love you," said another as she shoveled into another fork full. Silence took over again only to be interrupted by the clanging of wine glasses and smacking of forks against plates. Since the girls were on dish duty, I was able to sit back and enjoy another few bites while they scrubbed my kitchen back to its usually pristine condition. My ladies sat back down for some more girl talk and chick flicks while we all digested. The cheesy goodness of dinner stayed with us for a while, but about an hour later, someone asked about the strawberries...
Before serving the tray of chocolate covered strawberries, I gave a disclaimer that I had close to no idea about what I was doing when I made them, and that even if they stink, the girls better put a smile on their faces and eat up. And I meant that with complete heart felt love. Well, they must have been good because of the twenty, there were only three left on the tray and we were all once again stuffed. My chocolate was lighter than the fancy, gourmet ones that are properly made, but that was fine with us because it meant that you could eat more. I was actually quite pleased with the thinner layer of chocolate, as it allowed for more of the flavors of the strawberries to be tasted and savored. They were also a lovely accompaniment to our white wine, which was flowing freely.
More chatter followed as we all reached for comfy sweatpants and a last glass of wine. No knight in shinning armor with dimples and a thick head of hair showed up to give me a dozen Gerber daisies this Valentine's Day, but the company of my ladies was more than enough to fill my heart with love and my stomach with lots of yummy treats.
Who needs a man when you can have chocolate? Okay, so in a perfect world, you'd have both, but sometimes you have to make do with what you have and this Valentine's Day I had all the chocolate that my little single heart could desire.
When Divya approached me about taking a chocolate class with Kerry Heffernan, executive chef at South Gate restaurant, this past Saturday I was super excited. Then I realized that I would be sitting in a room full of lovey-dovey couples feeding each other sweets bites of caloric affection. Cue panic. How was I going to enjoy my chocolaty treat if I was to be constantly reminded that everyone else in the room was in love while I am perpetually single? With a huff of anxiety I walked down Central Park South anticipating a miserable two hours of nauseating cutesy couples.
All my worries washed away when I walked into South Gate. The restaurant is absolutely beautiful. Crystallized glass and shiny marble received bright bursts of color from larger than life floral arrangements. Any one who picked out this activity for their Valentine got extra brownie points purely based on the beauty of this place. Class participants were escorted into the back dining room where five long wooden tables were lined up in front of a large counter, which was decked out with more chocolate than a Hershey's store. My initial excitement immediately returned.
We started off with an introduction into the great world of chocolate, in particular Valrhona chocolate. It was very informative, but the plate filled with six chocolate samples from Valrhona that had been placed in front of me was a tad more eye catching. My brain was telling me not to touch the plate, as we were instructed to hold off on the eating, but my taste buds had other ideas. I almost had to smack my own hand as it reached for a nibble, but thankfully the wait staff came to my rescue. Pieces of the coco pod, which is chocolate in its purest and most natural form, were being passed around for class participants to sample. The coco pod comes directly off the tree, meaning that unless you harvest the coco plant, most people will never have the experience of tasting the pod. The coco bean is encapsulated by a white membrane, which tasted to me like mild honeydew. It was interesting, but that plate of chocolate was still whispering my name.
Finally, it was time to taste the chocolate. We started off with the nibs, which were unsweetened bites of the coco bean. Next came white chocolate, which I learned is not actually chocolate, as it does not grow from the coco pod, but when mixed with the nibs becomes a member of the family. The square of milk chocolate, which is made with caramelized sugar, was divine. It melted on my mouth, making my concerns about being the only single in the room disappear. I may have been alone, but at least I didn't have to share my chocolate. Two bites of a dark and darker chocolate followed. The first was nutty and a tad bitter, but overall pleasant, while the second was far more mild and even in taste. I'm a milk chocolate lady, so while I did enjoy these two (because I enjoy all chocolate) I did find them a little less exciting than the heavenly bite of milky goodness. Two minutes later I was corrected.
Our final piece of coco was the Caraibe, which is a blend of the two dark chocolate pieces we had just enjoyed. Wow! It was so wonderful that I broke out into a little dance in my chair as I nibbled away. The Caraibe, which is Valrhona's signature chocolate, was a perfect mix of the dark chocolates as it was not as punchy as the first bite and more exhilarating than the second. Just in case I hadn't had my fill of chocolaty goodness just yet, the executive pastry chef, Morgan Larsson, greeted the class with his double boiler in one hand and a whisk in the other. As soon as I saw the double boiler, I knew we were in for some kind chocolate extravagance. Cue smile.
Chef Larsson whipped up heavy cream, milk, egg yolks, sugar, and two types of Valrhona chocolate to create the most decedent thing I have ever eaten. This chocolate creation was served to the class with a layer of gooey dark chocolate on top covered with little chocolate crunch balls and coffee whipped cream. He calls is Chocolate Pot De Créme. I call it happiness in a bowl. If the Chocolate Pot De Créme were available to the masses, drug companies would go out of business as everyone's' depression, anxiety, and blood pressure issues would be immediately soothed from just one bite. I may have been flying solo in a room full of doting duos, but after all the chocolate, I couldn't have cared less. As I left South Gate with my bar of Valrhona chocolate, and wished myself a Happy Valentine's Day.
Subscribe to our Feed >
Join Our Facebook Group >
Follow us on twitter >
View our Flickr Photostream >
