Pearl Oyster Bar

18 Cornelia Street between Bleecker and W. 4^th Sts (Greenwich Village)

NY, NY 10014

(212) 691 8211

http://www.pearloysterbar.com

On a recent Friday night of celebratory joy, 3 friends and I tried to get into Pearl Oyster Bar for lobster rolls and were dissuaded from consuming a proper meal by the 3-hour wait time. Instead, we called Mermaid Inn, an old faithful in my handbook, and were told that a table of 4 was available. I felt lucky that at 8pm on a Friday night, an open table awaited us. Really though, I should have found that odd.

Upon arrival, 3 of us ordered lobster rolls and one had the skate. The lobster rolls tasted nothing like Mermaid’s lobster rolls of times past – the roll was over-buttered and the bread-to-lobster ratio was exceedingly large. Small chunks (rather, flakes) of lobster smothered in mayonnaise didn’t even touch all of edges of the challah-like bun the sandwich is served on. Disappointingly, the Old Bay-sprinkled french fries were far superior to the lobster roll. On top of that disappointment, the usual flatbread that Mermaid typically serves with meal was MIA and the beloved, complimentary pot au crème only arrived once we questioned its whereabouts.

With good fortune, less than a week later, a friend and I visited Pearl Oyster Bar. It was a Wednesday night and the restaurant was bustling. So excited I was to consume a proper lobster roll, that I chose for us to face a wall during our meal. Luscious, large chunks of lobster, celery you can taste without overpowering the meaty flavor of the lobster, served simply in a hot dog bun. My only complaint, if even a complaint, is Pearl’s slight overuse of mayonnaise. This could be of my opinion only, but a tad less mayo could have made for a supreme, ruling lobster roll.

Of course, the whole meal went down much easier with a dozen Kumamoto oysters which were quite good and a glass of Cava apiece.

Following such a meal, dessert is an unnecessary consideration. That’s how a real lobster roll should make you feel – satisfied – considering an entire lobster’s contents are used to make an individual roll.

As for Pearl, they have it right for here in New York City. However, I’m still on the hunt for the perfect lobster roll. One to bring me back to Red’s in Maine.

Hill Country
30 West 26th Street between 6th Avenue and Broadway
New York, NY 10010
212.255.4544
Subway: F/V to 23rd Street; N/R to 28th Street
Bus: M5/6/7 to 28th Street

Hill Country has been all the rage lately, in every New York rag since it opened in June of this year. I would’ve been sooner, but the husband has been crazy busy with work, and it would be grounds for divorce had I gone without him.

They’ve done a pretty good job with appearances: ranch-style, all-wood walls, floors, tables and chairs. A Texas state flag hung in the stairs. It has the kitschy Texas feel. Except it all feels new. And not new to Manhattan; just new.

Then there’s the staff: very ordinary looking hostesses and waitresses. The hostesses appear happy by New York standards, but nothing like those who are actually from the State of Texas (loud greetings, big smiles – it’s really not a stereotype!). Our waitress on each visit actually seemed somewhat impatient.

Another thing to note is that on weekends, especially during earlier hours, there are many, many, many children. They’re screaming and crying, trying to climb up and down the stairs, tossing food – whatever it may be, they are very present. If I had kids, I may be more patient. But I had a headache, and it was all too much.

The cafeteria-style, self-service was initially a turn-off, but upon going, I actually like having the interface with the countermen who sometimes offer you little tastes of their offerings. I also like seeing everything in front of you and being able to tell the butcher how thick I want my prime rib.

So the food… the brisket is DELICIOUS. I like it moist (read: uber-fatty); the husband likes it lean. The option is there, which is different and smart. The sausage, trucked up from Kreuz Market in Lockhart, Texas, is quite good. I prefer the jalapeno-cheddar one, but both are spicy and porky. I would skip the pork ribs and the beef shoulder. I like the prime rib, but get a thin or small piece, and eat more brisket. And the beef ribs are decent… there was too much of a coarse black pepper coating on it for my taste, but if you like black pepper.

Of the sides, we couldn’t resist the Longhorn cheddar mac & cheese. The baked beans were sweet for my taste, but the beer-braised beans had layers of flavors, and the husband proclaimed that they were the best beans he’d ever had. I thought the chili was tasty, but a bit greasy. The shoepeg corn pudding was good, but not great. The green bean casserole had potential, but was just too mushy. I also loved the cucumber salad, which was crisp and vinegary; it was the perfect accompaniment to the spicy sausage.

The husband declares this place to be a winner. I think it’s because it reminds him of home. Unlike Blue Smoke, it’s a BBQ joint that lacks pizzazz, which you’d expect in NYC. But it does have really wonderful brisket.

The Inn LW12
Canadian/Pub
7 Ninth Avenue at Little W. 12th
NY, NY 10014
(212) 206 0300
A, C, E to 14th Street

This place is as pretentious as its messed-up name. Billed as the alternative to the Spotted Pig or the “other” gastropub, my friend and I thought we’d try it for dinner. We made a reservation for 8:30pm. Just so you know, reservations are a joke – we sat there amongst empty tables for our entire meal on the second floor. Obviously, there are smarter foodies than me out there.

We started with The Inn LW12’s own version of the ever-so-popular ginger-flavored cocktail. Despite decent flavor, the drinks were horrifically small. For our meal, we started with egg cocotte and the Inn salad. The cocotte was quite good – rich, tasty, and a small enough size to not overwhelm. My friend looked at me midway through and said, “This is delicious, but I should probably stop. I don’t want to ruin my appetite.”

Here’s my theory and I’m sure I’m not solo on this one. If something’s good, eat it. Everything to follow could get much worse. Cue in suspenseful music.

I worked on the Inn salad, which our waiter promised was delicious and one of their “signature” starters. Rule #1: Don’t believe anything the waiter recommends. The salad was a sad version of something I make at home when there’s nothing in the fridge, right down to the piece of toast with olive tapenade spread – completely unoriginal. If that was the “signature” dish, I was seriously shuddering in fear of what was to come. Rule #2: The waiter might just be telling the truth, but you kind of have to read between the lines.

For our mains, I ordered the grilled lamb burger with chickpea fries. My friend ordered the seared striped bass which had, on that day, been replaced with dorade. To be honest, the dorade smelled and tasted quite fishy. To our good fortune, we had to stop eating the dorade because it actually swam off the plate and jumped back into the East River. As a result of the absence of one of our main dishes, the lamb burger received much more attention. Unfortunately, though, it wasn’t even very a) inventive (besides the chickpea fries which, for the record, are not nearly as yummy as good ol’ potato fries) or b) tasty.

On the side, we ordered one of the famous poutines. Our choice was the poutine with tomato and cheese curds. As our waiter explained, poutines are like street food in Canada. From the sounds of it, I knew I’d like it. Sure, I’ve never had street food while in Canada but c’mon, who doesn’t like street food? New York City, sadly, probably has the worst street food in the world (compared to other metropolises or metropoli, however it may be referred to). Perhaps Bangkok has the best street food I’ve tried thus far. Seoul is a close second, if so.

The poutine was a cast iron plate of French fries covered in tomato sauce and cheese. It was good, sure, but just as good as the kind of munchie food you ordered at 3 am at the diner in college. I actually used to eat something just like this in high school at the Mamaroneck Diner. Disco fries, which meant crispy French fries with melted mozzarella cheese atop and a side of tomato sauce. Yeah, that was in Mamaroneck, New York. A bit of a way from Canada. And not $12, more like $5.

The classiest part of our meal following the smelly fish that went home to the East River was the service. At one point during our meal, the busboy knocked over a large bottle of sparkling water which subsequently knocked over our two, half-empty cocktails. My friend and I were literally drenched and rather than offer us clean napkins to dry ourselves, the busboy wiped off the table with the napkins off the tables adjacent to ours. Since we were the only diners on the floor, the waiter ran over to us, as well as someone who appeared to be an owner. There were brief apologies and comments such as, “well thank God it was sparkling water,” upon seeing me wiping off my silk dress. Somehow, there wasn’t any mention of a complimentary beverage to replace the two that had been knocked over or even a complimentary bottle of water.

By the end of our meal, we were pretty frustrated and kind of hungry, too. We ordered the sticky toffee pudding because New York Magazine recommended it, as did our waiter. We obviously need to learn how to learn a lesson.

The pudding was exactly what we expected and not a drop beyond. During dessert, my friend’s tea cup, full of tea, was even knocked over. Fortunately, it spilled outward and not towards us. When my companion asked for artificial sweetener, the waiter responded that the restaurant did not carry any artificial sweeteners but that he’d “look around.” Less than 5 seconds later, a packet of Equal materialized. For not carrying artificial sweeteners, the brevity in which the “sugar” packet was delivered was even faster than restaurants which boast an impressive selection of Equal, Sweet n Low, and Splenda.

When we got the check, surely we were surprised that we were charged for every drink we had ordered (including the ones that had spilled) and even the sparkling water. We would have complained but we refused to stay at The Inn LW12 for even a second longer. We could sense our luck was about to run out.

Perry St
176 Perry Street at West Side Highway
New York, NY 10014
212.352.1900
Subway: 1 to Christopher Street
Bus: M20 to the closest stop to Perry Street

Perry Street, part of the Jean-Georges Vongerichten empire, is touted as a casual “neighborhood” restaurant. Yet, besides the Richard Meier building where the restaurant is housed (and its twin building next door), the neighborhood seems pretty sparse (there's certainly no public transportation and one entire side of both buildings is flanked by the highway).

Its décor doesn’t give a “neighborhood” vibe either. The all-glass walls of windows make for a spectacular view of the Hudson River; however, the dining room is angular, modern and cold. In fact, everything in the restaurant is square or rectangular, down to the dishes and even the teacups. I wouldn’t have been surprised if the spoon were square. However, none of this wreaks coziness or "neighborhood". I must also add that everytime I have been to Perry St (weekday or weekend), there’s barely anyone there, which may bolster my “lack of neighborhood” theory.

I have only been to Perry St for lunch because they have one of the best deals on the planet: 2 small plates plus dessert for $24.00 (each additional plate is $12). They even begin your meal with an amuse-bouche (a refreshing watermelon gazpacho on every visit so far). And the deal is offered every day, all-year round! To be able to indulge in Jean-Georges’ creative, delicious fare for a relatively piddly amount (how many of you spend more than $10, even $15, on a less-than-mediocre lunch?) is just genius.

The chef de cuisine is Justin Bazdarich, a graduate of the French Culinary Institute in SoHo, and an incredibly talented and nice guy. I’ve known him and his interest in food since he was a student, and he’s worked his way up from the kitchen first at Jean-Georges to chef de cuisine at Perry St where, at lunchtime, he whips up a menu of approximately 10 dishes, which showcases seasonal ingredients.

The peekytoe crab salad with edible flowers, radishes and cucumbers was a hit on each occasion. My husband devoured the fresh mozzarella with sun-dried pineapple and Thai basil so quickly that not a bite remained (for me) on the plate. I didn’t understand the foam “sauce” that topped the asparagus with herbed risotto; the dish was delicious and delicate but the foam texture reminded me of poached egg whites. It began to sicken me by the time I completed the dish. The grilled salmon with cockles and fingerling potatoes made me a salmon convert on my first visit, with its crispy skin and moist, flavorful, perfectly-cooked center; however, on other tries, its meat was drier, its skin less crisp. I longed for my first time again. Hanger steak with creamed basil, fava beans and topped with a single onion ring was a crowd pleaser, although a bit overspiced in my opinion. The onion ring is probably one of the best you’ll ever taste, and it’s almost wrong to only serve one since it just leaves everyone wanting more.

Of the breakfast genre foods, who knew how amazing pancakes could be; my companions claim to be pancake aficionados (I would never try to boast that title), and they agreed that these were the best pancakes ever tried. Same with the omelet offered; light and fluffy – eggs were taken to a new level.

I’m not a dessert person, but the two choices will never disappoint. One is a chocolate concoction, a layer of moist chocolate cake topped with a layer of rich, dense chocolate pudding topped with a light-as-air whipped cream. The cheesecake was amazing; the poached fruit was boring but still tasty. Go with a friend, get one of each and share.

Although I’ll never feel at home at Perry St (perhaps because I will never be able to make one of the pricy Richard Meier lofts my home -- if you haven’t heard, the buildings boasts a celeb-studded tenant list), I advise one and all to trek here for lunch (every day if you can); it is beyond worth it and unbeatable.

Francisco’s Centro Vasco
159 West 23rd Street between 6th/7th Avenues
New York, NY 10011
(212) 645-6224
Subway: 1/F/V to 23rd Street
Bus: M5/6/7/20 to 23rd Street


The neon lobster out front really says it all: Francisco’s Centro Vasco is the spot for lobsters. It’s not much to look at, inside or out, with a run-down Spanish taverna feel; in fact, the first time I went, my husband’s look of disdain was enough for me to know we’d never return together. Potent margaritas and tasty sangria are served at the bar and in the dining room.

The menu is filled with a random assortment of seafood as well as some Spanish dishes, but I’m telling you: if you don’t get the lobster, you’re missing out.

This is the kind of place where your entrees include a salad, sides, etc. As soon as you sit down, bread, butter and a bowl of salad is set down at your table.

Don’t fill up on the bread.

This is the kind of place you go with a group so I’ve tried many of the appetizers. I love their black bean soup; it’s thick and creamy, with a ton of flavor and without that plain, beany taste. I also enjoy their chorizo. Thin slices of chorizo are browned to a slight crisp, and although simple, it’s tasty especially with the black bean soup. Both are filling, so sometimes I’ll order them to-go to make sure I have room for lobster.

I wouldn't recommend the oysters or littleneck clams on the half shell. Oysters had almost no taste; littleneck clams had more taste than they should. The mussels were average, but I’m not a huge mussel person. The shrimp in green sauce was disappointing. The Italian-style clams casino were surprisingly good for a Spanish establishment.

The main attraction is the lobsters. They’ll place a card on your table with the different sizes available that night. The last time I was there, they had a 13-pounder available. If someone orders it, they’ll parade it around the room -- it's, no joke, the length of my arm. I prefer the lobster broiled over steamed; they split the lobster in half, and gently stuff it with a golden breadcrumb topping. The shell gets toasty which imparts more flavor into the lobster meat.

Rice, potatoes, Spanish fries and green beans sautéed in garlic and olive oil accompany the lobsters, but there’s no room for all of these accompaniments.

Desserts, if you have room, aren’t worth it. Maybe the flan, which everyone seemed to devour. Nothing else has really been that memorable. Instead, I would go with Francisco’s special cappuccino, a potent kick of four liqueurs to end the evening.

This place may be a bit kitschy (there’s always someone celebrating a birthday), but the food is solid and the prices (for lobster in NYC) are impossible to beat unless you’re cooking at home.

Aburiya Kinnosuke
213 East 45th Street between 2nd/3rd Avenues
New York, NY 10017
(212) 867-5454
Subway: 4/5/6/7/S to Grand Central
Bus: M/15/101/102/103 to 42nd Street


I am very unaware of Japanese food, and I know why: I have never been to Japan, and I have no Japanese friends. That said, I’m very interested in knowing about Japanese food, so I suggested Aburiya Kinnosuke for dinner with two of my girlfriends.

The restaurant is below ground a short flight of steps, and as soon as you enter, the clean lines and dark wooden walls typical of Asian restaurants is evident. There are private booths, some tables and a sushi bar for dining. I appreciated that most of the tables (particularly the private booths) were occupied by Japanese businessmen.

My friends let me drive, and we ordered a number of dishes to share. I couldn’t resist the mushrooms sautéed with bacon and butter, which were rich, indulgent and delicious. There were a variety of mushrooms, including oyster, shiitake and what I thought were king.

The deep fried tofu was clean and simple, served with soy sauce and freshly grated ginger.

The ground chicken skewer was roasted over hot coals and from our corner sushi bar seats, you could watch the chefs as they turned the chicken to a perfectly crisp exterior while the aroma of toasted rice floated towards us. We chose not to have it sauced, and it burst with flavor anyway – really quite delicious.

The sautéed shrimp with aona greens was very soothing to me. It reminded me of a light stew and with rice, I could imagine craving it when I’m next ill. The rice balls filled with cod roe could be the perfect snack food, and despite the delicious filling, there was too much rice.

The grilled scorpion fish was probably my least favorite. It was a small fish served whole that had a lot of teeny bones and was annoying to eat. When it was cooked, it tasted good, but there were parts that were still cold and on the raw side.

I love the noodles that finished our meal… mai fun-type noodles that are sautéed with vegetables are slightly creamy, while some noodles are crispy and some are toasted. It would have been even better had we had it with pork.

I had also ordered the pork cheek, but our server didn’t write it down, which was probably for the best since we were all stuffed by the end of dinner. Despite being stuffed, I wanted to lick clean every part of this meal (except the fish), and next time (if I can convince my husband to dine with me here), I’m looking forward to trying more dishes particularly the fish collar and the pork cheek. Service was attentive as you’d expect, and price... including 3 large carafes of sake and a tremendous amount of food, it only came to $53pp with tax and tip.

The Grocery
New American
288 Smith Street between Union and Sackett Streets
Brooklyn, NY 11231
(718) 596 3335
F, G at Carroll Street

Dinner at The Grocery is the perfect reason to make a trip out to Brooklyn.

I was at The Grocery on Tuesday this week with a friend. We took a taxi from the East Village across the Brooklyn Bridge to Hoyt Street. Warning: if you take a taxi out to Carroll Gardens, Smith Street is a long, one-way street. You may be better off riding down Hoyt Street and then walking the small block to Smith Street. Tip: the building numbers on Hoyt almost perfectly correlate with the ones on Smith Street. You can also take the subway which lets you out on Smith Street quite close to The Grocery (we were running late, so that option was not really an option at all).

For starters, we asked chef-owner Sharon Pachter for assistance with picking out a bottle of red wine. We knew what we were interested in eating, seafood and duck, but we didn’t know many of the wines on the 35-bottle (or fewer) list. Sharon picked out the wines herself and surprisingly, she put a lot of heart into recommending a bottle for us. We chose a Las Terrases, a Spanish red, with fruitiness (a distinct “jammy” taste) and less body to complement the seafood and particularly the duck. It was a delicious wine; upon the first sip, I told my friend that I could drink the entire bottle before the meal came out. Alas, I am not an alcoholic, so I refrained.

The amuse bouche consisted of potato leek soup (served in an industrial-looking yet cute metal jigger) and potato croquettes. The soup tasted like pea soup with slightly more personality. The croquettes were petite and delicious. Any larger of a croquette would have been decadent.

We started with the lobster tart with potato and leek and mache salad and the roasted, stuffed squid with black risotto, chick peas, and spinach. The tart was buttery and flaky, and surprisingly fabulous. The tart perfectly showcased the lobster and the flaky crust as equal players. The squid was more rustic tasting because of the spinach and chick peas. I would have expected something richer and more predictable with this dish, but I wasn’t disappointed. And beware: a squirt of squid ink is not pretty so be careful.

For our entrees, we shared the monkfish (I believe monkfish. It’s not a good sign when someone who dreams in food cannot remember a meal) and the slow rendered duck breast. The duck breast was recommended on almost every food site I consulted before my journey (namely the New York Times and New York Magazine). Although it was indeed crispy and well-prepared, it was not earth-shattering in any way whatsoever. Obviously, the fish was forgettable, so I will leave it at that.

The dessert menu was a pleasure to choose from. It was an easy choice though: hazelnut panna cotta (which replaced the Tahitian vanilla panna cotta for the night) and the gingerbread steamed pudding. The pudding was delicious for a few bites but much too syrupy and sweet at the center for even my own sweet tooth to endure. It may be one of the only desserts that I’ve tried that is quite good but unfinishable. That may not be a word, but I believe you know what I speak of. The hazelnut panna cotta, on the other hand, was hands-down the best part of our meal. Smooth, delicious, and should never be changed one bit. Both desserts came pleasantly decorated with thin slices of seedless, red grapes. A new touch that surprisingly went well with both desserts.

Perhaps it is because we ate at the less crowded hour of 9pm on a Tuesday night, but our service was phenomenal. The recommendations were completely on-par (and the staff was happy to recommend) and there was not a hint of pressure on us to leave even though we were the last ones seated at the restaurant. There’s also a beautiful back garden that is open in the summertime. It is not heated with lamps, so you want to make sure it is warm enough for you before you choose to be seated back there. Finally, there is a tasting menu for $75 and $100 with wine pairing. We did not opt for that because the menu was not extensive and we found dishes we immediately knew we wanted, but $100 for a tasting menu with wine pairing is a steal (especially compared to Manhattan), no?

If you are headed to The Grocery, go for the whole experience. Walk down Smith Street on your way there, enjoy the hominess of the restaurant and an ambitious and satisfying meal with personalized service (our waitress even called my friend “forlorned” while looking at the menu; unfortunately, no such word exists, but we understood her point. Also, chef-owner Sharon, at the start of our meal, shimmied her way under our neighbor’s tablecloth to fix an unsettled table.). And be sure to enjoy a after-dinner drink in beautiful Carroll Gardens at a neighborhood bar before you head back on the subway or taxi, or make your way home however you choose to.

Don’t go expecting a top-rated Zagat showdown at The Grocery. Rather, go to taste ambition with every bite.