A Trip To Long Island... City

It's farther than you think to traverse Queens. I guess that's why I do it so infrequently.  On Friday night, after a hot yoga class, my friend and I sought sustenance on Vernon Boulevard, a tricky endeavor these days.  We ended up at Alewife, a new breed of beer bar.  You can take your draft beer to go, for one, making for a truly enlightening experience (my friend selected a draft with the not-so-subtle name Arrogant Bastard to bring back to her arrogant bastard of a boyfriend back home).  For two, they serve delicate, local food.  The service may have been off tempo--did all the small plates need to arrive at the same time?--but the food showed surprising depth and clarity.

A quartet of meatballs, billed as soup dumpling meatballs, indeed spilled forth with juice like the Chinese variety and tasted Asian enough, though they were quite surely made from meat and not dough.  Littleneck clams were slathered in onion and a green pesto and came over an addictive grilled bread that was both crunchy and soft, owing to the broth beneath.  Soft shell crab, tempura battered, hit all the right notes: salty from the batter, sweet from the pickles, creamy from the aioli, bitter from the roasted turnips.  Grilled asparagus with brown butter may have had a little too little of the condiment (gasp!), but who can really complain about asparagus this time of year?  Maitake mushrooms drowned in whole butter, anyway, and more than made up for it.

A thick cut salmon tartare with creme fraiche would have been perfect if only it had been better seasoned. Shisito peppers--three hot ones in our bunch!--made up for that egregious lack of salt.  A final concession to spring came in the form of grilled ramps, a crispy hen egg, yuzu, and brown butter.  Cravings satisfied, I still think I will miss them when they are gone.

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Alewife
5-14 51st Avenue
Long Island City, NY 11101
718.937.7494

Japanese Home Style

Family Recipe, an LES project spearheaded by Chef Akiko Thurnauer, may be one of the best small plates joints to pop up in Manhattan. Small plates restaurants normally force me to a.) overorder and b.) overspend, but Family Recipe required no such sacrifice. We were a table of four and ate a wide cross section of the menu without overindulging. And all this for sixty dollars a person, alcohol included.

I will overlook the somewhat negligent service for now, given the fact that the one working waitress (I get it; it's a Monday night) spoke parsed English and struggled to keep her tables cleared and fed. In fact, an oversight on her part bought us a free bottle of Valpolicella, sent out gratis for our troubles. Anyway, the fun, tasty food made up for lapses in service. Chicken wings were salty and crispy and came with tiny spears of celery and a creamy pink sauce. Battered and fried okra and shisito peppers with salt and lime provided ballast without too much bulk. Delicate lobster dumplings came with cracked peanuts and soy sauce and a swipe of mustard and pork buns, reminiscent of the Chang variety, approached perfection with a side bowl of Kewpie mayonnaise.

Then came pan fried shrimp over corn and rice cakes in curry, somewhere between the texture of risotto and a rice krispy treat. Pullman toast on the side of a plate of Prince Edward Island mussels with nori and a rich, buttery sauce sopped up whatever was left over. Pork ribs were meaty, sticky, salty, sweet. And kobe burgers came with a tiny bowl of potato chips. Everywhere, competing textures helped the meal to its acme. Even dessert--a coconut rice pudding with a bruleed sugar crust--was made more complete with textural contrast. I don't know much about Chef Akiko's family heritage of recipes, but the food she puts forth, right down to a carafe of sake sangria with watermelon and strawberries, is soul-satisfying.

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Family Recipe

231 Eldridge Street

New York, NY 10002

212.529.3133

Run To Eat

It's my abiding philosophy.  Well, most of the time, anyway.  Yesterday afternoon, after a sunny, warm, and altogether forgiving run in the Bronx, my friend and I took a drive to the east village for some serious rewards.  

Our destination?  Ippudo, the Japanese ramen import unlike any other ramen joint run in the city.  For one, the space is enormous.  Cavernous might be more accurate.  There's nothing delicate or subtle about the decor, a high-ceilinged, mirrored, red and black monstrosity that must seat over 150 noodle-slurpers, easy.  

Weird noodle sculptures and rhinestone hanging artwork abound, but, let's be honest, no one comes for the bad Asian decor.  We're here for the noodles, bowls and bowls of the hand-cut variety.  Ippudo's menu has grown since its inception last spring, but the focus remains: If you go, it's gotta be ramen.  

So ramen it was, though we started the meal with gently fried shisito peppers that came with fresh lemons and a lemon salt for dipping.  Shisito peppers are mild and you can often swallow them whole.  But the spicy ones, few and far between, are considered good luck in Japanese culture.  It was my good fortune, then, to encounter a piping hot little sucker, only one on a plate of ten.  It was as fiery as a jalapeno.  The waitress laughed and told me I'd have good luck.  I could probably use it. 

Then the ramen arrived, giant hot bowls filled with noodles and broth.  My friend ordered a shrimp ramen special, a shrimp stock with fresh noodles garnished with shrimp and bamboo.  I ordered the spicy tonkatsu ramen, filled with ground and sliced pork, a roasted pork bone broth, julienned wood's ear mushrooms, and chili paste.  Traditional ramen arrives with a sesame seed grinder designed to garnish any soup with fresh ground seeds.  It made the broth nutty.  Fresh noodles like this are springy and toothsome, making the average eater wonder why anyone would ever settle for dried ramen sold at dollar stores for 30 cents a package.  

We slurped our soups to the sorry bottoms.  In Japan, it's considered appropriate and respectful to slurp and drink your last drop.  Wide spoons and spoon rests are provided for such glorious slurping.  The saddest part of the day was when we reached the bottoms of our bowls.  

But we'll be back.  Salty divine ramen like that can't keep me at bay long. 

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Ippudo 

65 4th Avenue

New York, NY 10003

212.388.0088