Melissa "Spatula Queen" Z.'s Profile

I consider myself to be more of a window-peeker, menu-browser, but only in rare cases, a store-enterer.

So when I happened by this new ice cream shop on a less-trafficked stretch of Hell's Kitchen,  I dutifully did some window peeking and menu browsing, but kept on walking. Yet some inexplicable pull made me pause at the end of the block and turn back. I'm so glad I did.

Je(nnifer) and Jo(nathan),  the husband-and-wife duo behind the eponymous ice cream shop, are churning out batches of their original ice cream in cups ($4) and pints ($10). The defining point is their concept of layering (all-natural)
cookie dough with ice cream to create some pretty unusual flavor combos. That, and their old-school wooden stick spoons. (C'mon, who doesn't love those?)

I opted for their Coffee Ice Cream with Spicy Chocolate Cookie Dough and the vegan option, Coconut Milk ice cream. The coffee, brewed in-house, was strong but not overpowering, and the spicy chocolate cookie dough provided a balanced kick and satisfying crunch. Creamy coconut milk ice cream is still searching for its complementary cookie dough soul mate, but I'm sure Je & Jo will find a great match by the next time I visit.

Because by all means, there's a whole rest of the menu to try. After all, the foot's already in the door...

I've got a pretty easy math problem for you all, Yelpers.

QUESTION: Do all these elements add up to a worthwhile dining experience?

  3 apps (Toro Tartare, Morimoto Sashimi, Oysters drowned in sauce)
+ 1 entree (Prettied up Peking duck in disguise)
+ 1 sake flight
+ Heavy hand of Celebrity Chefdom
+ Sexy (or just dark) interior
_______________________
= $140 before tip for 2 people

ANSWER:
A) Sure, because your pockets are full of gold and your stomach is the size of a pea.
B) No, because it's not the Iron Chef himself.
C) Maybe, because who knows what the heck Asian Fusion is supposed to be anyways?!
D) None of the above, because it doesn't make sense.

What do you think I chose?

"What kind of food DON'T you like?" asks my friend.

"Asian Fusion," comes my quick reply.

It's true:  I'm extremely, extremely wary of Asian Fusion cuisine. More often than not, it screams gimmick and is more a sign of chef's whimsy than artistic rendition of a cultural dish.

Buddakan is a love-hate, hit-or-miss, take-it-or-leave-it kind of place. The main dining hall with grand ceilings and dripping wax candles certainly has its wow factor, but I wouldn't want to share that long banquet table that could fit a small army of diners. I've never felt so modest to have a dress go all the way mid-thigh.

The food. There are only two reasons why I go back to Buddakan repeatedly:

1) Edamame dumplings. They could be on my plate every day of the year and I would still crave more of them. The most boring sounding dish is brilliant upon first bite. Believe the hype.

2) Desserts. Peanut Butter Bombe is incredibly light and refined, and might be the most delicate version of these heavy flavors I've tasted to date. The signature Crying Chocolate is for true chocolate lovers, better shared between 2-4 friends if only to eat more of the other desserts.

Granted, my friend used to be a pastry chef here and I first came to pay my respects, but I've gone back for the PB bombe and the Edamame dumplings.  Not quite a solid bet for everything, but as a pre- or post-dinner (note my next review for Morimoto) supplement, I could eat my words about Asian Fusion for some more of those dumplings.

A collector's whimsy of circus-like decorations might distract our eyes, courteous staff spewing out "Madames" sound oh-so-sweet, but the food just couldn't play tricks on our sense of taste.

I have wanted to try out this notoriously inconsistent,controversial, but important pillar in the NY dining scene for awhile. As a popular choice for Restaurant Week, I finally decided to give it a personal verdict.

Too bad my appetite is not dainty enough for a Pistachio crusted Lamb entree the size of my index finger. Nor did the stems of accompanying leafy greens so hard they pierced my mouth upon every bite appease my hunger. But perhaps the worst blow was the Classic Le Cirque creme brulee. I only ate a quarter of it; I never leave dessert unfinished. Never.

The monkeys on the plate are cute.

Let's start with the namesake - the Aquavit, or essentially, infused Scandinavian vodka.

I tried a flight of:

Blueberry and Elderflower
Lemon and Ginger
Fig and Cardamom
Coconut and Espresso
Lingonberry

And I still managed to remember the pleasing food, atmosphere, and service. Now is a great time to go, because:

Regular 3-course = $78
Regular plate a-la-carte = ~ $45
Restaurant Week 3-course = $35

Add in a $35 bottle Red/White/Rose wine during the Restaurant week promotion, and you should be well set to enjoy a plate of upscale Scandinavian potatoes and oily fish (herring).

Those venturing into this current RW cycle might want to forgo the hunt for minuscule slices of wild boar under a wilderness of salad in the appetizer round, but take a chance on the cold poached salmon. For those wanting to explore the regular menu, the Arctic Char stands out, and the signature Arctic circle dessert is a worthy bite.

And of course, don't forget the Aquavit.

Skoal!

For the indecisive or all-conquering carnivore, Fatty 'Cue's got you covered.

FISH: Ikan Bakar, whole mackerel
CRAB: Smoked Blue Crab Soup
PORK: Whole Pig, with pineapple curry and baos
BEEF: American Wagyu Brisket, with baos
DUCK: Red Curry Rubbed Duck
LAMB: Lamb Shoulder, with goat yogurt, mint and house pita
FAT: Dragon Pullman Toast, with Master Fat

I came with a group and had all of the above, plus the Smoked Eggplant Nam Prik to balance out eating half the animal kingdom. Don't forget, there's also chicken and pies (a worthy category).

The unmarked place is a bit hard to find, and the portions aren't exactly king-sized, which means it can get pricey if you're overzealous with ordering. But the quality of the meat and interesting mix of flavors made this particular carnivore quite content. Now for the other half of the animal kingdom.

Say it's BBQ o' Clock.  

You're in the LES, and your stomach is craving something that hits the spot, like Southern food supposed to do. Let's explore the options:

A. Dinosaur BBQ's too far.
B. Blue Smoke's too pricey.
C. Hill Country's star is the ice cream.

You just want some meat. Some slow cooked pulled pork, some half or full rack of fall-off-the-bone tender ribs, and/or some crispy fried chicken that's moist all the way through. And heck, let's just add on some corn on the cob, cornbread, collard greens, cole slaw, and cheesy grits with bacon on top to add even more variety in there. Throw in a cool glass of sweet tea to wash that down, and I'd say you've got yourself a decent sounding meal.

Needless to say, that's exactly what I did. At under $20 a person for all that, I'm glad that I can get my fill of meat without having to sell a little piggy to get the funds. Now did someone say BBQ Sandwich Happy Hour?

Cafés in NYC may be a dime a dozen, but I'll end my search here.

Late hours? Check.
Friendly staff? Check.
Eclectic crowd? Check.
Comfortable environment? Check.
Good and reasonably priced food? Check, check, check.

A nibble of tiramisu first. Wash it down with a sip of freshly made Americano. Breathe, relax, and take in the surroundings with a glance. At the next table, a street artist proclaims his plans to be in a museum one day. Suddenly, a group of not-entirely-sober students enters loudly, searching for an early hangover cure. Under the shelter of the covered outdoor dining section, an elderly couple smiles and shares secret whispers. My mind could, and does, wander for hours in this manner.

Perhaps it's a good thing they aren't open 24/7 on the weekends anymore. If it weren't for their new closing time of 2:00 AM, they'd be hard pressed to remove me from my comfortable window-side nook, oblivious to the outside world for just a few more hours.

This is Restaurant Week, not the Indy 500.

I could see the wind trail as plates whizzed around my head. My bread is explained in mumbles so I blindly pick one. Instantly my Wild Mushroom Soup appetizer appears in front of me, as do my companions' Chicken Liver Crostinis. My hand freezes in shock with a piece of bread still half-dunked into my soup as our appetizers are cleared away without a word to make room for the entrees. Two slices of braised pork shoulder in a sea of creamy polenta has a suspicious layer of film on top already. Chew slowly now, and try to ignore the waiters all glancing at the table to see if we're finished with our food. As our plates are yet again pulled out under our noses, I request an intermission before our desserts. No such luck. Even Valrhona Chocolate Caramel Tarts can't ease the tension I feel all over. I request to look at the regular dessert menu since I'm curious and might be up for more sweets, but our check arrives swiftly and silently before I get a chance to order.

I am dazed, agitated, and can't recall most of what I just ate.

What a shame that this cozy Tudor City exclave put forth the wrong foot during Restaurant Week, especially since the food was pretty well executed. In fact, the crostini was one of the best renditions I've ever had. But after having just dined at Convivio's sister restaurant Marea for a 3-hr non-RW meal, it felt like night and day in terms of how we were treated. I wouldn't recommend coming here for Restaurant Week, but the regular $62 pre-fixe isn't a half bad deal---as long as you have your elbow guards on.

Restaurant Week can beget panic attacks for those inexperienced food adventurers who are blindsided by a plethora of options. Some common questions include:

- What constitutes as a good deal?
- Whose advice can you trust?
- What should you order?
- How can one person possibly eat 3 courses for $35 and not become broke/overstuffed?

Let a seasoned eater break it down to you with one restaurant: The Bar Room at The Modern.

- It's a good deal because the usual 3-course pre-fixe is $88. Understandably, the foie gras that's infused into almost every dish on the regular menu is not offered for RW, but are you really that surprised?

- Take the advice from people whom you trust, or at least agree with. Do take note if a certain aspect about a restaurant stands out, such as the fact that The Bar Room at The Modern gives you nearly 10+ choices per course. The hardest part about eating at The Modern is deciding which dish to order.

- As stated above, making a choice is indeed tough, especially at The Modern. The selection is always changing each time RW rolls around, or even between weeks of the same period. If you're going to branch out, go for dishes that center on quality of ingredients, such as the Steak Tartare with Quail Egg this time around, or fun experimental ones like the Roasted Long Island Duck Breast with Peppercorn-crusted Apples and Toasted Pistachio-truffle dipping sauce. Beer-Braised Pork Belly is a fun use of a popular ingredient, whereas the Saffron Tagliatelle with Cider Braised Rabbit, Wild Mushrooms and Baby Zucchini was so sinfully melt-in-your-mouth that not finishing every bite would've been a crime. Dessert isn't any easier to narrow down, though the Dark Chocolate Tart's name doesn't do this burst of semi-formed chocolate bliss justice. The petite Modern Cheesecake with Almond Crumble, Raspberry and 'fromage blanc' sorbets is so pretty it deserves a place inside MoMA.

- There's a common equation with fine dining that as price increases, portions decrease, regardless of whether or not that -should- be the standard. The Modern's portions, while not minuscule, are not hefty either. The variety of flavors and the quality of food are well worth the $35 for dinner.

The only other difficulty now is jumping on a reservation as soon as they become available. Veterans can be pretty feisty about getting a spot at their tried and true favorites, so take note of this advice, gather up your wits, and plunge on in with the rest of us.