Allyson "Ally" H.'s Profile

After a lovely afternoon of shopping on the Lower East Side, my boyfriend suggested having an excellent meal somewhere near his apartment. I immediately thought of Novita, the charming Italian restaurant we pass at least once a week. Every time I walk along Park Avenue South, I pause and look into their windows and then carefully read the menu. For a beautiful Italian place nestled in Gramercy Park and across the street from BLT Prime, it's hard to ignore the reasonable prices, the billowy umbrellas set up in the warmer months and the baskets of freshly baked bread on each table. Yet, for some reason, we never designated a time to go. But, I must admit, one of the reasons I enjoyed Novita so much is precisely because we didn't make a reservation far in advance; I did not go on the website twice a day in anticipation of dining there; I did not select which dessert I would order. I realized that sometimes it's nice to have zero expectations.

For a Sunday during a recession, Novita was comfortably full. The dining room is small, dimly lit and totally romantic. The second we were seated, a food runner dropped off a loaf of sourdough bread. I munched on the heel as I examined the menu. It was the first time I didn't glance at the fish or meat options; I was in the mood for pasta and not even the branzino special was going to stop me! I selected the pappardelle with lamb ragu, the dish our waiter called, "the best on the menu." He chose the zucchini flowers with prosciutto di parma to start, and one of the three fish specials offered that evening for his main course: swordfish prepared with tomatoes, capers and kalamata olives.

Appetizer: the moment he tasted the zucchini flowers, he said, "this is something special." And indeed it was...lightly friend and stuffed with creamy and warm ricotta, your taste buds will scream in ecstasy with each bite. Even better is to wrap each flower with a delicate swathe of prosciutto di parma and feel the flavors and textures reveal themselves in your mouth: silky, sweet-salty ham, milky ricotta and finally that audible crunch of the flower is something I can only describe as perfect.

Dinner: my pappardelle was superb. The gossamer sheets of pasta draped and folded themselves around the rich lamb ragu and velvety porcini mushrooms to create a heavenly dish. I don't think I will have the power to try anything else on the menu. And either will my boyfriend...although his swordfish was fresh and delicious, accented with sprigs of rosemary, asparagus spears and blanched brussel sprouts, it just doesn't hold a candle to mine. The next day, he ate my left over pappardelle. While he thought it impossible, he remarked that it was even better than before!

Dessert: Typically bored with the desserts at classical Italian restaurants, I found Novita's to be particularly alluring. From the baked apple tart drizzled with hot caramel, profiteroles filled with vanilla gelato, warm chocolate tart and semifreddo (just to name a few of my favorites), we chose the latter. Meaning "half cold" semifreddo is a class of partially frozen desserts like ice cream cakes, nearly frozen custards and even fruit tarts. Ours was a layered tier of nougat, hazelnut and intense dark chocolate mousse. With the whipped and airy feeling of mousse combined with the refreshing chill of gelato, semifreddo is perfect on a warm summer night. I know that must sound hackneyed, but when the weather heats up and Novita sets up tables outside, that is the dessert we will order! I am definitely looking forward to our next Sunday night dinner here.

We started with a bottle of Veuve Cliquot Yellow Label--my absolute favorite champagne. With a glistening necklace of foamy bubbles, hints of fresh fruit and vanilla, and that unmistakable cooling sensation upon your first sip, Veuve is the right way to start any celebration. I probably finished mine too quickly. After selecting a bottle of wine for the evening and we ordered our dinners, the bread basket came. While the bread at Bottleshop is warm, crusty and a bit hard around the edges, what we tasted upstairs is everything but. I tore my piece in half: it was so soft; the texture reminding me of a light popover and brioche all at the same time. When smeared with their highly addicted honey-citrus butter, I thought that this could be the high point of the meal. Fortunately, all of our appetizers were fantastic. My fellow dining companion chose one of his favorite dishes, the wild mushroom baklava, stuffed with dark forest mushrooms, fresh thyme and drizzled with aged sherry wine and port sauce. I decided upon the fried green tomatoes, which were stupendous. After four years of dining in the South, you would think that I tasted the best fried green tomatoes there are...but Cork's took the prize. The tomatoes were gently fried so that some green peeked through the crispy skin. Topped with fresh mozzarella, lemon oil and rich balsamic, Cork's version may not be the standard but it certainly beats it. Someone else ordered the oyster's Rockefeller filled with a bubbling mixture of spinach, celery, onion, cheese and a rich buttery sauce. With my aversion to oysters, it was only natural that I didn't try them.

After we finished the champagne, our waiter, Tim, popped the cork on our Nuits St. Georges Premier Cru 2003, a deep burgundy pinot that completely coats the tongue and mouth. I mention our waiter's name because he is fantastic, attentive, and contributes to making Cork a great dining destination.

Though nearly every item on the menu seemed appealing, the special couldn't have been more up my alley: pan seared snapper with cipollini onions, mushrooms, lightly sautéed spinach in a sauce of sun dried tomato beurre blanc. It sounded fresh and delicate, but the sauce was much too creamy and buttery for my taste. Overwhelming the sweet flavor of the fish and the simplicity of the vegetables, I became disillusioned midway. Thankfully, my fellow dining companions were more than satisfied with their choices. Both my friend and his father ordered the veal involtini; (in case you don't know what this is because I didn't) this is a veal scaloppini with Serrano ham, fresh mozzarella and sage. Cork serves theirs with braised Belgium endive--a type of lettuce that becomes a pale and unappetizing green when cooked. But besides the endive, the involtini was very tender; the flavors were well balanced and nuanced. They were especially grateful that the meat was not bombarded with ham and cheese--an unfortunate occurrence at many Italian restaurants that prepare this dish. Another selected the roast rack of lamb rubbed with extra virgin olive oil, garlic, aromatic rosemary and a dauphinoise hash (a decadent potato dish baked in milk, cream and cheese). She said her rack of lamb--cooked medium rare of course--was perfect.

I found Cork's dessert menu boring besides their famous chocolate soufflé, which we ordered three of. Considering the fact that eating chocolate soufflé is a religious experience for the people with whom I was dining, Cork had much to prove. I found the chocolate deep, rich and decadent, but I wish the soufflé had more of that melty, pudding-like center--something I associate with excellent soufflés. Apparently, we need to go back to Cork in the fall when they serve a pumpkin soufleé!

Overlooking the Hudson River and adjacent to the stunning Merrill Lynch Building, I'm certain this particular P.J. outpost is the best of the three located throughout Manhattan. It was around 4:00 PM when we arrived, so the restaurant was quiet. The host, with whom we became very friendly by the time we left, told us we could sit wherever we wanted. We took advantage of Blue Moon on tap and ordered a pitcher to start. Laced with orange slivers, I couldn't imagine a more refreshing and light beer to quench my thirst. For hunger, their chicken wings are an absolute must! Baked, flash fried and doused with their special sauce, the heat lingers and the meat remains moist and succulent. Rather than getting entrees immediately, we took our time and ordered a second pitcher. As the sun began to set, we saw the first signs of the dinner crowd beginning to move in. Parents with young children, older couples and groups of friends trickled in to the sound of the host greeting each and every one. P.J. Clarke's on the Hudson has a very different feel from any of the other restaurants I have been to New York thus far. You immediately feel at ease, and everyone is treated like family--at least at dinner time. And speaking of dinner, it was about time to order ours.

My companion initially chose the Cadillac--their famous burger smothered with bacon and cheese--but quickly changed his mind when our waitress informed him that he could get three sliders with a variety of toppings on each one. My order was infinitely more boring--a classic Caesar salad with grilled chicken. When mine arrived, I knew I would have trouble finishing it. With that said, the salad itself was mediocre: chicken was a tad dry and the romaine was slightly overdressed. Yet, after craving a Caesar all day, P.J.'s was satisfying. His sliders, on the other hand, looked fantastic. The beef was cooked to perfection and each mini burger was topped with something different: melted cheese, rich béarnaise and sautéed onions. If I ever feel up to it, maybe I will order that next time!

At 7:15 we got the bill and the host came by to check on us. We ended up in a lively conversation, and he even offered us two drinks on the house. After two pitchers, one Gentleman's Jack for him and a caipirinha for me, it was difficult to leave. In fact, P.J. Clarke's on the Hudson is the kind of place which begs you to linger, to stay a moment loner...and while we probably won't be back until the Spring, I know we will be treated like regulars the second we step through the door.

The name says it all. With not one architectural feature to denote a bar, a waiting area, or a hallway to the restroom (yes, there is just one), cube 63 really is a cube. On Friday night, Jack and I arrived exactly on time for our 9:00 PM reservation. It was easy to spot our friends; they were shivering outside along with an ever-growing throng of trendy twenty-something's. Considering it is still winter, I found this strange. I made my way to the door and pushed it open. Walking into a crammed cube casting fluorescent green lighting upon the packed tables below is disheartening, to say the least. "Don't we have a reservation?" I asked my friend. "Yea, but it just doesn't matter." It seemed like Cube 63 was the only restaurant in New York that hadn't caught on to the ubiquitous attitude shift that has recently taken the industry by storm. What Frank Bruni calls "extreme solicitousness tinged with outright desperation," is an approach this restaurant refuses to embrace.

At 9:05, we managed to make our way inside. While I couldn't spot anyone who resembled a host or maitre'd, my friend was able to track someone down. We were told to wait until that group of six girls finished their meal and vacated the restaurant. Fortunately for us, they had already paid and fifteen minutes later started to get up. We literally dove on top of the table to ensure that those behind us wouldn't have a chance. Getting a table seems like an achievement at Cube 63, but we wouldn't have it for long...according to the reservationist, we had 1  1/2 hours to eat and were actually forbidden from staying any longer. To that end, we started drinking immediately and ordered soon after.

One of the restaurant's only redeeming qualities is the BYO factor, and we had come prepared. Jack and I brought several cans of Asaki and Sapporo; the couple with us had two 500 ml bottles of asahi super dry sake. After knocking back a few sake bombs (i.e. pouring a shot of sake and delicately dropping it into the glass of beer), we were ready eat. For the table, we started with the requisite edamame. I found them nicely salted and hot, but too soft for my liking. My companions split the goyza ("delicious") and I had miso soup. In my attempt to find the best miso soup in the city, I have failed again. Cube 63's was fine, but not different from anything I've had before. Our entrees came soon after. I was shocked by how small the rolls were. My friends ordered two Boston rolls (shrimp, avocado, cucumber and caviar), one eel and avocado roll and one tuna and avocado roll to share between them. Verbally, Jack's order seemed verbose, but I couldn't help thinking, "au contraire," when it was put before him. Somehow three pieces of eel, two pieces of toro, two pieces of tuna belly, two pieces of arctic char, and a shrimp tempura roll looked like nothing at all. Though everything was delicious and fresh, especially the eel sashimi and the shrimp tempura--lightly fried to perfection--there was not enough food to absorb the constant stream of alcohol coming in. I was equally upset with my portion. Expecting the city roll--an assortment of spicy salmon, avocado, eel, topped with tempura flakes--to be made up of pieces big enough to slice, I couldn't believe that each piece was bite size. Needless to say, we were still hungry by the end of this meal!

I must admit the best part about Cube 63 is bringing your own alcohol. In other words, taking into account that Cube 63 delivers, we should have just stayed in. Or, even better, not gone here at all! Besides, we are lucky enough to live in a city that offers an abundance of fantastic sushi places that are quiet, take and keep reservations, treat guests kindly and offer portions for regular people. While the sushi was high quality, those tiny rolls are not worth losing your voice and your patience

At 10:15 PM, we finally got our act together for dinner. We had initially planned to go to Blue Ribbon Sushi, but after learning that the wait was at least forty five minutes, we chose elsewhere. Miffed, we began walking to Amber. We stepped inside to see that most people were at the bar or upstairs. The disco ball casting red, blue and green lights throughout the restaurant was in full rotation. With music blasting and the majority of people finishing up their dinners, I felt slightly out of place. But my friend and I were starving and Amber's kitchen was still in business.

We were seated towards the front of the restaurant and adjacent to the door. While I do enjoy people watching, that activity did not compensate for the cold air which rushed in every time the door was opened. To warm up, my friend ordered a dirty martini with grey goose vodka; as a light weight, I ordered a lychee martini. We munched on edamame sprinkled with sea salt until our appetizers arrived. When our waiter dropped them off, I honestly thought he made a mistake. My companion's miso soup came in a bowl so massive that it would have taken a half hour to finish it. My salad was also too big, but that wasn't the main problem in my opinion. Sprinkled with a generous amount of California raisins, I was turned off immediately. I appreciate innovation in traditional dishes, but raisins, field greens, cucumbers and ginger dressing do not go together--at least not for me. Fortunately, Amber was redeemed with the first bite of sushi. My friend ordered two rolls: crab stick and the red hot dragon, while I selected one of their specialty rolls called the salmon tuna rollover. Filled with spicy tuna and topped with a swath of salmon and salmon caviar, mine was full of flavor and varying textures. The caviar was smooth and salty; the salmon was as soft as velvet and the pre-diced tuna wasn't too spicy. I didn't try her crab stick, but the red hot dragon was certainly hot! Spicy and crunchy tuna rests atop a tuna and avocado roll drizzled with spicy mayo--all together, I couldn't even tolerate the heat.

We didn't want to leave Amber when the check came, but that was more due to the cold than anything else. Don't get me wrong, there are times when I enjoy dining in trendy locations with energizing music, giant Buddhas, fake bamboo paneling and dim lights punctuated by a disco ball (well Amber could lose the disco ball). However, when I can't hear my companion speak and I can't exactly identify what I'm eating, I would rather be somewhere else. Maybe I will return for lunch.

We made our way to 24th and 2nd and searched for Limon. I must warn you, the restaurant is so small, that you may miss it if you are not paying attention. And it doesn't get any bigger once you step inside. There are five tables, all of which were empty besides the six top taken by a Turkish family enjoying several bottles of wine. Ordinarily, eating at a restaurant with just one full table makes me uncomfortable; however, I felt content and at ease here. In Jack's words, it was as if we were invited to eat a meal in someone's home. "I bet the owner's live upstairs," he said.

We were seated at a tiny table directly in front of the kitchen. The smell of garlic--pungent and rich--spices, and fresh fish on a charcoal grill made my stomach grumble even more. The waitress opened our bottle of wine, Kendall Jackson Merlot, and left us to review the menu. Absolutely everything sounded fantastic, but we had to make a decision. Though le boyfriend suggested the pan fried calf livers, I was set on the hummus. For dinner, I ordered the adana kebab and Jack selected something I had never heard of called kaides guvec: a baked shrimp, mushroom and tomato casserole topped with melted cheese. Moments later, the hummus arrived with a wicker basket of warm bread. At first glance, the bread looked store-bought, hard and even stale. Fortunately, it tastes exactly the opposite: with a crisp outside and soft, doughy center, it was ideal to dip into the hummus. And the hummus was out of this world, or at least out of anything I have tasted in America! Transporting me back to my vacation in Istanbul, the texture was smooth and creamy with hints of lemon in every bite. As we sipped wine and recounted our day at work, I took in my surroundings. Everything about this place was intimate and warm. From the paintings of the Old City on the walls, the children laughing at the other table, to the boom box softly playing top forty hits, I truly felt like we were guests in their home.

Jack refilled my wine glass for the last time as our entrees arrived. I've never used the phrase, "great presentation" to describe a kebab, but Limon's was slightly untraditional. Taken off the skewer, they were lined up side by side with a row of grilled squash to add some color. The rice pilaf was simple and flavorful. The only thing I didn't touch was the grilled tomato, which became soggy and lukewarm in a matter of minutes. Jack could not have chosen something better on a cold, winter day. Fresh shrimp, sliced mushrooms and tomato juice sizzled in a crock pot topped with a generous amount of bubbling cheese. Whenever he took a bite, a gooey string of cheese followed him...is there anything more delicious than that? While Jack made a dent in his meal, I didn't come close to finishing mine. Frankly, I was more than happy to have this for lunch tomorrow. But more importantly, I wanted to save room for dessert. Limon offers three selections: sutlack, baked rice pudding; crème caramel and baklava. We picked the latter to share. Sliced into three squares and served with two oyster forks, this baklava may be the best we have ever had. I've found that many prepare this pastry with an overwhelming amount of honey, so that the overall product is heavy instead of light and flaky. Not at Limon. The combination of delicate layers of phyllo, crunchy pistachios and sweet honey was divine. Unfortunately, it disappeared way too soon!

Before we left Limon, we talked to our waitress--the only one in the restaurant--about her life in Turkey...where did she attend school, where did she live, where is her favorite place? As we chatted, the music played behind us and we heard the sounds of kitchen. Even if the owners don't live upstairs, that is exactly how you feel every time you walk into Limon.

At 9:45 we walked into Bondst and got drinks at the bar. With capacity for six, we managed to squeeze in and get our hands on the cocktail menu.  The lychee martini sounded appealing (like it always does), but I've had it dozens of times before. Taking a different route, I chose the yuzu caipirnha. Ever since trying the traditional version in the summer of 2007, I've been in love with its fresh and distinctive flavor. The addition of yuzu, a tart Japanese citrus fruit, added a distinctive twist to the standard. In fact, Bond's caipirinha was so good that my friend couldn't bear to drink her pear bourbon martini (heavy on the bourbon, light on the pear) any longer. By the end of the night, we had ordered a total of four caiprinhas.  

A half hour later, the host took us to a tiny booth in the middle of the restaurant. I perused the regular menu and compared it to the winter promotion menu. Though, I came to Bond with lowered expectations due to the pressure of Restaurant Week, I was already impressed with our drinks and the selections on the prix fixe menu. Most places give you three options to chose from for an entrée, but Bond offers a unique spin on the traditional: you get everything! I only hoped that the food would taste as good as it sounded.

First, our waiter dropped off edamame free of charge. Hot and salted, I eat these things like candy. Regrettably, there were about fifteen on the plate, so they were gone in 60 seconds--literally. A few moments we later, we started sipping miso soup. It was certainly better than your average, but still nothing to write home about. After our soups were taken away, we ordered a second round of drinks, put our sweaters back on and talked about the second course.

For dinner we each received something I like to call, the "re-invented bento box." Filled with some of their most popular items, I thought the presentation, portion size and assortment was ideal for Restaurant Week. After surveying the six choices on my plate, I decided to begin with their house salad tossed in a light ginger dressing. This is one of my favorite types of salads but I've found that most Japanese restaurants do not stray from the path in terms of variation. Besides a sprinkling of raisins at Amber (an unappreciated addition), they are all the same! At Bondst, however, there is a light dusting of panko bread crumbs which adds a delightful crunch to each bite (unfortunately, only four bites). Next in line was a sampling of tempura: lobster in a creamy Japanese mustard dressing, sweet potato, and king crab. I have always loved the combination of flavors and textures in sweet potato tempura, so that was my favorite. To the left of the tempura was something I had never seen before. My friend informed me that this dish was called oshinko: a mixture of pickled beets, turnip and cucumber. Refreshing, but I do not intentionally eat pickled anything. Then I took a bite of the Chilean sea bass. Marinated in nothing but saikyo miso, the flesh was sweet with a hint of caramel in every bite. Velvety and smooth, the meat melted in my mouth as the flavor dissolved on my tongue: fantastic!  Finally, there were two kinds of rolls to try: spicy tuna and sesame crusted shrimp. The level of spice in the tuna roll was so shocking, that I could only eat one. The sesame encrusted shrimp tempura roll drizzled in an orange curry dressing and reduced balsamic vinegar was very good but not anything that I haven't had before.

Before I knew it, I had eaten every single thing on my plate excluding two pieces of the spicy tuna roll (which I handed off to my friend who has a higher toleration for spicy foods) and the oshinko. I felt satisfied and ready for a yummy dessert. We had three options: a ricotta cup topped with yamamomo (Chinese strawberry) granite; lychee panna cotta with strawberry rhubarb compote drizzled with vanilla syrup; and banana milk chocolate dim sum peppered with hazelnuts, sweet and sour cream dipping sauce on the side. Everything sounded so delectable that I couldn't possibly make a decision on my own. Like many prior occasions, I asked our waiter his favorite. He passionately told me that I should order the ricotta cup, and of course I did. My companion selected the banana dim sum. A few moments later our desserts arrived. They were beautiful and tasted even better. My ricotta cup was incredibly creamy with whispers of hazelnut. I tried to get a tiny bit of the yamamomo granite in each bite because it complemented the ricotta flavor so well, but there wasn't enough (my only complaint). Naturally I tried my friend's dim sum which was fantastic; it was like eating a crepe with a twist. Both desserts were light enough that we didn't leave stuffed and uncomfortable...something that usually happens to me when I finish an entire dessert and then some.

This past saturday, my friend had her birthday at bob bar on the Lower East Side. Naturally, I went on yelp first in order to get an idea of place. It looked great! In fact, I had never seen so many stars in my life--besides those gold ones on the bulletin board in grade school.

I walked in, well at least  tried to, but it was so crowded that I merely stood still until I was able to envision a path. Once I saw an opening, I made my way to the "table" designated for the birthday girl. I put table in quotations because it was quite small and there was hardly anywhere to sit.

I had previously that the drinks are cheap, but I got a shot in order to avoid inevitable spilling ($7 for chilled blueberry stoli). I liked the music (a mixture of top 40 and old school 90's and 80's) but it was simply too jammed for me to enjoy myself. After experiencing a bit of clausterphobia, I left.

On Friday night, my friend and I went to Bond St. for a very late dinner. 10 PM may not be late in Europe, but we were already starving by 7:00. As I wondered what I could prepare for a snack, my friend called with some exciting news: "I will come to your apartment bearing yummy gifts," she said. A half hour later, she walked in with a red container nearly overflowing with two flavors of rice pudding from her favorite place, Rice to Riches in Nolita. When I was younger, I walked by this dessert mecca with my mother, but she doesn't like rice pudding so we decided to get pastries instead. Though I can understand how people dislike this particular pudding (it's a texture thing), I love it and Rice to Riches serves it up right. We shared chocolate chip flirt and the milk chocolate only rings twice. It's so creamy and silky, I can already see myself eating this much more than I should! I can't wait to try sex, drugs and rock & roll next!

I tried sushi for the first time when I was fifteen years old. My family and I were in Maui for the holidays and my mother made a reservation at Hakone, a Japanese restaurant at the Prince Hotel. As a neophyte, I ordered the most basic sushi on the menu: the California roll. Halfway through, I noticed that the avocado had fallen out of roll, so I picked up the first light green thing I saw on my plate and popped it into my mouth. You can probably see where this is headed...A moment later, my mouth was on fire. With eyes watering, nose stinging and taste buds burning off by the second, it became clear that I mistook the avocado for the entire dollop of wasabi. Needless to say, my sinuses have been clear ever since.

Now, I never touch wasabi nor eat California rolls. In the last eight years, I have tried dozens and dozens of sushi combinations ...the most interesting being a roll in Israel with mango and pumpkin. Right now, my favorite roll is from Sushi Choshi in Gramercy. The golden roll is filled with a mixture of fresh crab meat and mayo, an asparagus spear and topped with cooked salmon. The four colossal pieces are drizzled with an eel sauce so good that soy is superfluous. Normally, le boyfriend and I order in, but a few days ago we made the five minute trek to the restaurant located on 19th and Irving. Resembling most sushi places, there is the requisite bar with a view of the chef swiftly slicing, dicing and assembling sushi; and a number of two and four tops crammed next to each other. When Jack and I went, we were seated much too close to an older couple who couldn't stop gushing about how beautiful their food looked. The food here tastes good, but trust me, it is not that pretty. Soon, a waitress came by and took our order. We both had our usual: house salad and golden roll for me; sushi dinner deluxe for him.  

Unlike a lot of sushi places which prepare teeny house salads with drab lettuce, Sushi Choshi's is fresh and crisp: they use mixed greens, juicy heirloom tomatoes, and crunchy cucumbers tossed in a tangy ginger-carrot dressing--the best part. Jack's miso soup was average; but I don't remember the last time I had an exceptional miso soup. Our dinner came too quickly, which was perplexing considering the restaurant was not crowded and closing was not for another 45 minutes. However, my golden roll was perfect; I have ordered this particular roll at least four times now and have never been disappointed. The waitress initially messed up Jack's entrée and brought him sashimi instead of sushi, but a few minutes later all was remedied. He had several pieces sushi, agedashi tofu, steamed broccoli, and a California roll.

I am not sure if I like Sushi Choshi better in person or in an apartment. I can tell you that I would rather use my bathroom instead of the restaurant's. Earlier in the evening, I walked downstairs to wash my hands and felt like I was going into a cave. The stairs are steep; the wooden floor is uneven, and there is no natural light. Of course, people typically go to Sushi Choshi for food not to use the bathroom.