culinary treasures of williamsburg

while bdub is away, nowlze shall...eat.

bdub is currently on a little mini-tour with my brightest diamond- southern california and then off to barcelona for just a wee festival before his return. the 'rents came up for a four day jaunt to NY this week, and we had a great time stuffing our faces.

day one we settled in at the cozy black betty for some mediterranean food with a moroccan twist-- moroccan paella for dad, a seafood stew for mom, a chickpea and zucchini stew for me (eh), and various mezze. not bad, though next time i will choose differenty for my entree. the mezze were delightful, though.

day two it was la locanda to satisfy our pasta cravings. how i love la locanda...back when i could actually drink a full glass or two of wine, i loved that they offered a nice house red for four dollars a glass. so cheap, so delish. mom had a puttanesca, dad the seafood pasta, and for me, the eggplant parm. la locanda is perfect comfort food when i am craving the italian american dishes of my girlhood sundays (though still not as good as nana's, of course).

day three was polish food at krolewski jadlo, or "king's feast", which is technically in greenpoint and one of my dad's favorites. i wasn't too keen on polish food, as generally their vegetarian options are all fried and fried food gives me wicked indigestion these days. but, what dad wants, dad gets, so long as he talks it up long enough that everyone gives in if only to quiet him. is that mean? i speak the truth. anyway, i had a plate of pierogi (boiled, not fried), some cucumber salad and a bowl of borscht. other highlights were mom's pickled cucumber soup, which was creamy, loaded with dill, slightly sour and, much to my surprise, served hot! mom also got the polish platter (pierogi, potato pancakes, stuffed cabbage, and sausage) and dad got ham hocks (eeewwww...).

king's feast is big on ambience, though. check it:


come for the 'staches, stay for the food:




day four was my favorite korean/japanese spot, miyako. we started with pa jun, my old standby (korean pancake with crab). i don't know how they manage to elevate the humble pancake to a crispy, fluffy, and (i kid you not) slightly creamy delight, but they do. i also got a california roll to satisfy my sushi craving along with tofu dol sut (tofu, veg, and rice served in a hot pot with sesame oil and chili sauce). mom got the beef dol sut, dad, the garlic shrimp. miyako is flavorful, light, healthy, and delicious. highly recommended over other sushi or korean spots in the 'hood.

pre-miyako, mom and i took advantage of the gorgeous weather and strolled up to fortunato brothers for gelato. i had the tiramisu, she- the coconut. insane. we also got a dozen pastries to take home, including their famous mini canoli and other delights. i think fortunato brothers' gelato needs to become a staple in entertaining houseguests...it's a nice walk from our apartment, and gelato provides the perfect respite from city madness. plus, who can be stressed, worn out, or anything but completely satisfied, really, when eating gelato?

eating aside, i am very grateful for the 'rents visit. despite some pretty loud tv running all day long and maybe some incessant chatter (dad, i'm looking at you), the 'rents are the ultimate in houseguests. i think the biscuit got something like three walks a day, which is crazy. woobie's litter was scooped, our back patio summerized (not an easy chore), our shower and bath scrubbed. i was chaffeured to all of my jobs. clothes were mended, the toaster oven de-crumbed, kitchen shelves dusted....my mom even cleaned up some cat pee and a dead cockroach. that's love.

i think i have a crush on garrison keillor

q: what passes for "aromatherapy" to norwegians in lake wobegon?
a: bacon and coffee

the 'rents came into town and brought with them much ado (fun, chaotic, at times exasperating and publicly of the "i am trying to act casual but new york scares me a little" ado)...plus tickets for us to go to a live broadcast of a prairie home companion at the town hall theatre. dad did us a solid and managed to somehow finagle seats that were about eight rows from the front and five seats from the middle aisle, with the sound effects guy smack dab in front of us!



fred newman was able to extract from his mouth the sounds of horse's whinnies, prowling tigers, even the notorious alligators of the new york city sewage system. his arsenal held telephones, deadbolts, creaky doors, a pair of shoes hanging around his neck. for me, he was definitely one of the highlights, though i really felt as if i had experienced two hours worth of good, clean, american music and humor. seriously. i felt down-right patriotic....and not patriotic in the bushie "i'm an amerikkun- freedom ain't free" kind of way. it was more a feeling of being wrapped in a warm blanket of the familiar. the entire production completely sucked me in. i was entranced.

thanks, dad.

afterwards, we walked north several blocks (through times square--always fun eye candy for the tourist) to rockefeller center to behold the tree:


now that's something.

so it begins again: my love affair with where i live. there is something magical (or atleast fun) about a place where you can stuff yourself with a plate of pierogies, a bowl of borscht and fried dumplings for $7.50 (what can i say? dad had a hankering for polish food. and yes, i know that pierogi ARE dumplings...i just wanted fried dumplings too), experience a magnificent show, trudge through the masses at times square, and take in perhaps one of the most iconic of all holiday spectacles..all within a matter of hours.

being as the broadcast was from new york, garrison keillor sang a little ode to west 43rd street to get the audience warmed up, and the program contained a short essay from one of APHC's writers on being a new yorker (almost). an excerpt:

I Might Have Been A New Yorker
Laura Buchholz- December 2007

When I moved to New York in 1996, I came with the "let's give this six months and see what happens" attitude. I lasted for 11 years, almost 12, having just moved back to the Midwest in August of this year.


And while I throw back my head and laugh every time I think about my new spacious two-bedroom apartment with high ceilings and hardwood floors and lots of closet space with a garage and NO ROOMMATES for $900 a month, I am concerned about my membership in the New York club. If indeed I was ever a member in the first place. Leaving New York feels an awful lot like going all the way through medical school, and then the internship and the residency, and taking on all the debt, and then deciding-you know what? I think I want to raise chickens.


When I announced that I was leaving New York, my friends tended to have one of two reactions. The first, delivered with an incredulous sneer, was one simple word: "Why?" The second was a bit longer, but still sounded like one word:

"ohmygodyouaresoluckyyouaregettingoutof
hereIwannagetoutofheretooIamgoingtodiehere
ohmygodIamgoingtodiehereinNewYorkifidon't
getoutofheresoonwhenamigoingtogetoutof
hereyouaresolucky!!!"


Both of these reactions are correct.


How long does it take before a person qualifies as a New Yorker? Some say 10 years. Others insist it's 15. I tend to believe that however long you are in New York, add another two or three years and that's when you qualify for membership. 21 years? You're not really a member until you've been here 23. And if you leave--the clock probably goes back to zero. I don't want to believe this, but knowing New York, it's probably true.


......


But there are things I miss. Alot of them. I miss how easy it was to meet up with people. New York is like a giant dormitory for ambitious adults. A giant dormitory with a rat problem.


But I have suspended my membership for now, and that is okay. If the clock goes back to zero, so be it. I can take it. Because I was a New Yorker, I think. Or at least I was two years away from being one.


......