If You Can’t Go To The Mountain, Bring The Mountain To You.

Dhaulagiri Kitchen  ** moved to Manhattan**

It’s been fairly well covered in the press but you wouldn’t know it had already been discovered by slipping through the door. In fact, you would just assume that you had mistakenly entered the back entrance of someone’s kitchen and as you glanced nervously for someone to apologize to, the lovely chef/owner, Kamladidi would take your arm, smile and point to the one table for you to sit at. Not the one table available, I mean the one table. Granted it’s a four top so it could be construed as two tables of two. But it would be cozy. There are about four small stools along a tiny counter you pass upon entering, if you don’t luck out and score the table. But I scored.

Long fascinated by Nepal, and having done what I could from here to help after the earthquake, it now seemed high time to get to this heralded kitchen and support the community in NYC at least. And I’m very sorry I haven’t been sooner because I can’t wait to make this a regular haunt.

It’s special here, the food is true Nepali and so so good. The sign outside indicates that bread is made and sold there, Tawa Foods Corp. As long as you know to look for Tawa, you won’t get lost. Open the screen door, pass the piles of packaged freshly made roti, watch the chapati being rolled and baked ten feet away beyond the table and grab a seat. This is gonna be fun.

Accept any and all help from the woman in charge. She will not steer you wrong. Her english covers the essentials but her intuition is beyond and she will know when and what to bring. I swear. Even though the food is meant to be eaten by hand, scooped up with bread, she’ll give you silverware. Your choice.

We probably over-ordered but honestly, we were over-excited. Started with the quintessential sel roti, a slightly sweet fried doughnut made of partially ground rice flour, butter and sugar. The doughnut had a crispy outside, velvet inside and was absurdly light. Heavenly. We were told to have it in tandem with the revelatory spicy potatoes. Okay…hmmm. Surprising but count me in. It’s a knock your socks off carb extravaganza.

My dining partner had the goat curry which he loved, a tough but worthy chew. Nicely spiced and even better with the dipping sauces.

There were momos galore including a version stuffed with buffalo. Dumplings are always fine, these were pleasantly satisfying but the dough skin was on the thicker side. But oh, those dipping sauces with heat, cilantro, mint, garlic, mustard turn anything into greatness.

I loved my vegetable thali, served to perfection in a metal tray filled with pickled things, uncooked rice passing as airy white rice krispies, papadum, dehydrated bitter melon, dal, vege curry. The pickled achar (anchovy, radish, gundruk-fermented vegetables) shot past the boundaries of earthy, straight on to bitter and tart. A spice force to deliciously reckon with.

The proprietor, Kamala Gauchan has a dry wit and a plucky sensibility. She rules here and watching us sweat a bit, down ginger ales quickly (no liquor), she plopped a soothing yogurt drink in the middle of our dishes and said loudly…DRINK! She’s generous and always offers more of the accoutrements. When we realized we couldn’t finish our slightly indulgent order, she laughed loudly.

Dhaulagiri re-defines the apt hole-in-the-wall description one tosses around for places three times the size. When you arrive here, you’ve actually discovered one. The giant wall mural of the mountains in Nepal does its best to make you feel you have room to stretch an arm out without knocking over the statue of Buddha or the roti flour. It’s definitely an intimate space, there’s a careless warmth, and a certain twinkle in the owner’s eye as she regards the troops of people finding there way here and rejoicing that they did.

Quitting time and one of the bakers offered us a slice of her apple as she walked by. And it wasn’t pickled.

Back out on the dusky streets, I turned to mentally capture the exotic world we’d left behind. I noticed the storefront next door said Time Travel. Ha! Next time.

The food is as good as it was in Jackson Heights. Updated blog to come soon.

Dhaulagiri Kitchen
124 Lexington Avenue
Manhattan
917.675.7679
Daily from 11am-1am

“Double Double Toil & Trouble…

Little Pepper Hot Pot

…fire burn and cauldron bubble”! And bubble it does. My pot bubbles over with love. There’s no bubble like hot pot bubble, like no bubble I know. Because I have to say – everything about it IS appealing. Little Pepper has long been my temple (as noted way below in an earlier post) and having gone day 1 when it was on Roosevelt Avenue and followed its move to the shiny new space in College Point, I was thrilled to return to the original shop for straight on hot pot. The basement dining is gone, you now enter through the infinitely more elegant street level entrance, where the old kitchen used to be. And it’s bright, simple and festive.

Each pot of broth can be ordered as a whole or one pot divided in half between the two house broths, the Sichuan spicy pot or the House original milky non spicy broth. They also do a vegetarian version of either so anyone can Chinese fondue it. You automatically receive one plate of mixed vegetables like wood ear mushrooms, corn on the cob (surprisingly great) and cabbage as well as thinly sliced fatty beef. That alone would probably be more than enough food for two people but there’s no way you’re going to go and not partake of the parade of enticing offerings. It would just be foolhardy to resist.

Dunk, swirl, scoop, dip and dine. You get little metal nets and long prongs, a much more interesting than normal table setting. Healing…satisfying. And frigging fun. Four of us sampled far too much. The tofu skins (called bean crud stick here!), the fatty lamb, the parsley pork meatball, lotus root, 4 of the 7 varieties of mushrooms, fried tofu, fresh soft tofu, frozen spongy tofu, house made citrus flavored sausage, sliced pork belly, fish fillets and snow pea leaves. A Chinese friend loved the spam. Go figure.

To this feast we added two favorite appetizers from the list brought over from the main Lil Pep. Didn’t need them but just had to have them. Szechuan noodles like no other and cucumbers in garlic sauce. They were actually a nice respite from the bites of hot pot wonder. And an unneeded reminder of why it’s so glorious to dine here.

But all of this is brought home to that sweet spot in your mouth with the condiments. I worship the spicy green chive sauce but not more than the jar of thickly fermented soy from the sauce service station. There are pockets of delight to be discovered there that serve to beautifully enhance all that cooking you’re doing! It’s a necessary field trip from your table.

It’s interesting that it’s not just how good the food is, how it touches you at the very very bottom of your soul, it’s the scent, the vibrant colors of the broth, your plate, the spirit of the place. That joie de vivre is at play in your hostess with the mostest, half of the couple who own the restaurant and the one with maybe the most welcoming smile ever…Jacy Wu. She welcomes you into this enchanted Sichuan kingdom and you dine under the spell.

My pot at the end of the rainbow…

Little Pepper Hot Pot
133-43 Roosevelt Avenue
Flushing
718.690.2206
** Cash only
Open daily noon-midnight

Little Breakfast Idea Courtesy of Sullivan Street Bakery…

Sullivan Street Bakery

I’ve already mentioned Sullivan St Bakery in an earlier post and my complete adoration for anything that comes out of its rustic oven. Particularly that Truccio whole grain bread. Well, in need of an easy meeting place with a friend the other morning, we went for a latte and maybe some toast. But our Prima Colazione ended up being something so simple and so good…chopped up Truccio toasted bread, Vermont creamery salted butter with two poached eggs on top. Served until 11am.

Of course it’s tres easy to make yourself with any favorite bread to toast. I added some sauteed spinach and a little parmesan.

It’s perfect however and wherever you have it.

Sullivan Street Bakery * one of several locations
236 Ninth Avenue between 24/25th street
212.929.5900
Mon – Sun, 7:30 AM – 9 PM

Great Balls of…

Teriyaki Balls

I might be behind in cute Asian girl food world but there seems to be much happening. Luckily for me I’m in the process of catching up with my personal discovery of Teriyaki Balls – as cooked and served by Mimi and Coco at the Madison Square Park Eats Festival.

Balls of dough are ever irresistible and these somehow manage to be incredibly satisfying but not make you feel like you did a bad, bad thing. I’ve had the tasty takoyaki/octopus balls from Otafuku on 9th street, complete with bonito flakes but haven’t been back in years. Stumbling upon these stuffed balls, along with their creators (and built in cheerleading section) was a treat.

Mimi and Coco seem quite excited and very proud of their product. It all has a bit of a Hello Kitty feel but only because of the pop style and genuine enthusiasm. These balls are crispy-esque on the outside but definitely have the gooey factor with soft dough and creamy filling on the inside, all made possible by a specifically designed cast iron grill pan.

On offer are country sausage, shrimp or potato. I ordered a mix of the last two. Toppings include roasted slivered almonds, a seemingly random ingredient but I appreciated the warm, crunchy nuttiness. A sort of counterpoint to the chewy. Something I may have thought of had it been the old days and I was high. But then there are corn flakes too. Now you may as well be high. Their teriyaki sauce is multi layered and you can choose to have the whole raft (I did!) or pick and choose among the flavors and textures. Mayo, pepper, chili sauce etc. It’s food as fun. Pop the whole ball in your mouth, follow it with a sip of one of the great ales at the market and a great afternoon is now on point.

Teriyaki Balls
Mimi and Coco currently at Madison Square Eats Festival in Worth Square at Fifth Avenue and 25th Street.
http://www.mimiandcoco_ny.com

Raindrops On Roses…

Rio Mare

Not just Rio Mare. Rio Mare Tonno All’Olio Extra Vergine Di Oliva. Not just tonno but tonno packed in extra virgin olive oil that you can only find in Italy and perhaps only in Umbria. Not just yellowfin tuna fish in a can from Italy in extra virgin olive oil – and whiskers on kittens aside, this very can of happiness is in fact my favorite thing.

Travel and food are my fuel for life and finding local treats, the ones you can’t scope out on the internet or find in some far flung corner grocery of the urban gourmet-sphere, are like sniffing out your own truffle at the base of a hazelnut tree. Winning.

Don’t you relish the stash in your suitcase when you arrive home with something you couldn’t bear to leave foreign soil without? Isn’t there a treat (maybe your’s isn’t food) that you politely beg for if someone you know is headed to the land of your favorite of favorites? I’ll admit I have several but Rio Mare extra virgin tuna is at the top of the list. Why they won’t export it I cannot fathom. They do sell their tuna in regular olive oil outside of Italia but you have to truck through an Umbrian hill town to ferret out this truffle. Luckily for me, my ex-pat friends are in town and brought me enough to quiet my addiction. For now.

It’s spectacular. Have it straight out of the can but if that makes you feel like you’re drinking a Bud from a bag on the street, add it to some cannellini beans with a little red onion. Yum. Use it however you’d enjoy tuna (no need for mayo though). It’s lighter than many oiled tunas, fruitier, mellow, and golden. It’s steam cooked, hand processed, packed with the oil and a bit of sea salt. So delicate. The pink pearls of tuna world. And c’mon…the interior is gold!

How do you really describe great tuna in a can anyway? I’m sure it’s hard to imagine the true glory here but trust me, if you can wrangle some traveling friends to hand it off to you or get to an alimentari yourself – go forth and add this to your favorites list. Maybe right before brown paper packages tied up with string.

Rio Mare Tonno All’Olio Extra Vergine di Oliva
Find it at your local Umbrian alimentari (and oh please bring some back for me)

Taim After Taim

Taim Mobile

Just a quick post to finally set into type how much I love Taim. From their tiny brick and mortar temple on in the West Village to their fancier digs in Soho (Balaboosta) to their truck. Which luckily for me pops up around the corner once a week. And I’m not the only worshipper.

Seriously great falafel, hummus, amba sauce and specials like ginger lemonade or a fig/date smoothie. Very Tel Aviv. They don’t offer the fabulous Sabich sandwich on the truck but I’m sure that fried eggplant would become wet eggplant if it was on wheels. Head to the storefront on Waverly Place for that sometime.

So, instead I had the red pepper falafel sandwich special with all the pickled, spicy, brilliant fix-ins. One of several rotating falafels. Crispy but moist, earthy and piquant.

And a friend had the Mediterranean platter. She negotiated for more cabbage instead of quinoa and I must say – the cabbage was a poem. Sweet, crunchy and a good foil for the spicy sauce. As is their delectable hummus. Toss it all with the cucumber-tomato medley and top it with amba (pickled mango sauce) and you are in non-falafel but still middle eastern heaven.

We stopped and picked up two beers and found a table on the “Bloomberg meridian” for our little mid-afternoon picnic. Lunch was so good, I forgave the whole tables-in-the-middle-of-Broadway-to-mess-with-the-traffic situation for just this once.

Taim Mobile
hopefully by a corner near you
check http://www.tweat.it and find out when

Eastern Yang of a Different Color

Lomzynianka

Go Polish or go home. Greenpoint Brooklyn is pretty much the epicenter of great NYC dining these days along with Bushwick and Bed Sty. Obviously there are wonderful finds all throughout the borough(s) but from ethnic to a gourmand’s nirvana, these three areas have more than arrived.

So yeah, seems like a better plan to eat Yin food in a Yang season. Things that are cooling and hydrating really do appeal. Except when treated to brunch at one of the best Polish restaurants in NYC. Oh well. Chi imbalance but happy tummy.

There are a couple of lovely Polish venues in Greenpoint but I do have a soft spot for Lomzynianka. Lovely staff in a dark and plastic home away from home. Brick wallpaper, crackly tablecloths and always holiday decorated stag heads. Toss in lace curtains and tiny homey table lamps and you have a lovely respite from the unrelenting sunshine plus comfort food of a pretty high order. Mama must be in the kitchen because the food is definitely made with love.

Pickled vegetables, coleslaw and shredded beets served in a cold jumble are as refreshing as any offering for the table could be. Sugar, vinegar, tang. It’s perfect. But if nothing else – hop trains, buses, snag a ride just for the red cabbage and creamy cucumbers. And dill. They do love their dill here. The dish is cooling and flavorful, makes you forget the heat outside and the nap you’ll need later. I didn’t want to stop eating it.

But if you were to only use your metro pass for one dish, the red cabbage is in direct competition with the potato pancakes. It’s like having candy, potato pancake candy. Dip your forkful in apple sauce or sour cream or both. The delicate crunch, slightly oily, addictive sweetness adopts the Lays adage – bet you can’t eat just one. And even if you could – why would you want to?

It’s cheap enough to try everything, if you have the appetite capacity for it all. Borscht comes in red with dumplings and vegetables or white with sausage and bits of hard boiled egg. Sweet, sour, savory – they leave no beet unturned. Served with a rye bread basket, both borschts (say that 5x fast) are fabulous though the white seems to be the borscht that dreams are made of.

Don’t forget the ethereal veal meatballs, who would have thought that fluffy would be your go to word here? My dining companion flipped for the kielbasa sausage stuffed with savory pork and covered in the crispiest of skin. I like a good pierogie and had to go with fried over boiled. Shimmering golden brown and filled either with sauerkraut/mushroom, farmer cheese or potato and cheese. Still sticking with oozing fluffiness here. Plenty of horseradish later, I was done.

Lomzynianka’s food dispels the eastern european myth most often subscribed to of heavy, filling and maybe tasteless. While not the likes of a green smoothie, their food shines for it’s lighter hand. The herbs and sauces are a quirky marriage of european cultures merged by history and injected with the sharp clarity of juniper. Kind of heady. No need to wait for winter, truck on over in bermudas and see for yourself.

Lomzynianka
646 Manhattan Avenue / Greenpoint
718.389.9439
Cash only and BYO

* Header photo by Angela Carbonetti / http://www.angelacarbonetti.com

Neighbor Larry’s Revelatory Coffee Syrup!

Homemade Coffee Syrup

If you’ve ever been to Rhode Island and have any interest in coffee – the flavor (as in ice cream, a Coffee Cabinet, or syrups only found locally) then surely you’re aware of Autocrat and Eclipse. Kind of known -as it says on the Eclipse bottle- as the official state drink of Rhode Island. I would long for it as soon as my supplies dissipated, begging anyone headed for New England to grab a bottle for me on their return.

I even have friends who graciously stopped at Newport Creamery to haul two Coffee Cabinets with them one bright morning (the RI version of a malted) as they drove from Providence to NYC to meet me at a funeral. It was meant as kind of a toast but that’s another story. (the drinks actually survived the drive fairly well!) Coffee Syrup works in a milkshake or malted, turns plain yogurt into…voila…coffee yogurt or is fabulous drizzled over anything if you ask me. Plus it perks up a glass of milk faster than you can say Hersheys.

So during the recent hot streak, Neighbor Larry invited me over for a beaker of his renowned iced espresso. Always full of good tips and relaxed conversation, how could I say no to catching up? Who knew that the conversation would find its way around to coffee syrup! And the idea that he glanced at his watch and said – I can show you how I make it right now if you’d like. Would I? Clubfoot.

Neighbor Larry would be the definition you’d find under painstaking with passion in the good neighbor dictionary. I not only love his creations, like the hummus several blog posts back, but I’m fascinated by the shall we say…exacting detail in his approach. I’m especially fond of the true joy he feels if his efforts were not in vain. So herewith – your chance to make coffee syrup at home a la Neighbor Larry. This is your lucky day.

First things first. Get a can of Cafe Bustelo, which you can find at pretty much any supermarket anywhere. Pour half of the can into a bowl. It should be 5 oz and you’ll know that if you have your bowl on an electronic scale. And if you know what your bowl weighs when empty. Let me say – you’d best know all that. Or the Neighbor Larry swat team will be knocking on your kitchen door.

The pour was a shade under. 5 oz or bust.

Once that 5 oz is confirmed, documented, given sworn testimony – put it into your measuring cup. The taller the cylinder the more accurate the measure will be. The measures are further apart on a taller vessel so you can determine 2 oz with greater accuracy. Neighbor Larry carefully explained this to me as he poured the grounds into an old pyrex measuring cup that he’d clipped from his mother many years ago. It has a flatter bottom than the current crop so will do the job well.

2 oz mark for example

Next, take 1 cup of sugar and pour it into the glass base of a french press. You’re not actually going to press it so it can really be any appropriate glass container that can withstand heat.

1 cup even. The filter should be at the ready. It’s the coffee syrup portal.

Fill a kettle and start boiling water. You’ll need 27 oz worth. However, the 27 oz only refers to the total volume of water + fully saturated coffee grounds. Neighbor Larry says “I don’t put 27 ounces of water in the kettle; it’s somewhat less and I approximate how much water to put in (intuitive and precise; I must be perfect). You probably should mention that as you add water to the grounds, the total volume will decrease as the grounds absorb the water. So once you’re satisfied that the grounds are fully saturated you add sufficient water to bring the total volume to 27 oz”

Straight from the Neighbor’s mouth.

Neighbor Larry apparently eschews the adage, a watched pot never boils…

Add the water to the grounds.

Wet all the grounds. Pour. Stir. Pour again.

Mash. Really make sure those grounds are soaked.

Get the measure right.

The total volume should be 27 oz not including foam, just combined coffee and water. Neighbor Larry, usually quite modest said – I don’t want to brag but I boiled the exact amount. He’s a force to be reckoned with.

Steep for 3 minutes. Three. 1.2.3. Exactly 3 minutes.

“We are at the 2 minute mark”. Neighbor Larry’s eyes never left the watch face. In the remaining minute he explained to me how he had perfected this on the second try. It was the sugar proportions that had toyed with him. He’d started with 1 and a half cups but it proved too sweet and was “a bitch to get into solution”.

Ding. 3 minutes. The coffee transfer into the sugar begins.

Neighbor Larry had made a permanent mark on the glass of the french press with nail polish. Not his own. This indicates 16 oz, the size of his syrup container. “If your grounds and sugar measurements are reasonably accurate and you follow the 27 ounce rule you should wind up with approximately 16 ounces of syrup. If you’re short you can try to squeeze more coffee out of the grounds or add more water. If you have any left over once you reach the 16 mark, check the temperature and pour directly into your mouth.” says Neighbor Larry.

A slow stir and scrape as it does clog. “There will be some sediment but that’s fine”, Neighbor Larry assured me.

A pour pause to stir sugar a bit more. It wasn’t all quite saturated.

Last bit

Don’t lose a drop

The verrrrry last squeeze

It’s go time. Pour it into your container and know that there will still be some undissolved sugar. And I quote Neighbor Larry, “you can’t get too fussy”.

Yeah baby

TASTE!

C’est fin

My take

I came home and refrigerated my vessel. And waited. Once chilled I was going for a taste test. Tried and true Autocrat and Eclipse are worthy opponents. I’ve been witness to enraged debates over which one of those reigned supreme, tho I do believe that Autocrat bought Eclipse years ago so not sure of a reality based controversy anymore.

As a former Dannon coffee yogurt addict, I was looking so forward to something that would fill the still gaping hole. Fage Total 0 % perhaps now with true coffee flavor? The healthier version.

And the winner is……oh don’t be ridiculous. Of course it’s Neighbor Larry’s! I love the Rhode Island Duo as much as the next New Englander but here’s the thing – Autocrat was sweet and tasty and fueled my sense memory of Coffee Cabinets past. Eclipse (always my favorite truthfully) was a bit thicker which I preferred but same candied coffee-ish taste. A comforting indulgence. I opened my little jar of Neighbor Larry’s Coffee Syrup Supreme. It wasn’t thick, that was clear. I was a little anxious. But then I swallowed. IT TASTED LIKE COFFEE! Sweet coffee. Perfect as a mix-in. Lose that fructose corn syrup from the name brands and we have an actual coffee flavored syrup for a treat.

Liven up anything or anyone you want with that deep, luscious, loamy flavor. And cease your worry about when you’ll next get to Rhode Island. Unless of course you need a fix of Dell’s Frozen Lemonade. But that’s a whole other blog.

Thank you Neighbor Larry!

Neighbor Larry’s Coffee Syrup
You know what to do

A Whale Of A……

Carvel

Come on. Impossible to say no, yes? Even after a fantastic and more than satisfying meal at my all time favorite Sichuan temple – Little Pepper. But then… there’s soft serve. Oh I had to go there. In every sense of the phrase. By the way, this includes having had the ultra french fry dish Chinese style. Fries covered with Sichuan peppercorns, cilantro and crushed chilies! However I digress. Now we’re here to whoop, Viva La Carvel and it’s very own whale of a…Dasher. Wha??

Cool and creamy is such a perfect follow to heat infused food, so on the way home driving through Queens, we decided – in for a penny, in for a few more pounds. Found a local Carvel (only one still exists in Manhattan) and saw the following sign saying limited time only, get your Girl Scout Cookie Dasher!

I asked our server, a kind of female Rocky Graziano what a Dasher might actually be, to which she replied, “well…it’s a name!!” Okay then RG, two can play this game. The sign specified Samoa cookies or Thin Mints and as it had been decades since a beloved Thin Mint crossed my lips – I went all in. A friend snapped to and immediately ordered the Samoa cookie version with vanilla soft serve, whipped cream and butterscotch sauce. Very tempting.

Layers of crushed cookie, thick, strong butterscotch and soft serve. Not half bad.

I was a tougher sell. I had questions. Mine came with mint marshmallow sauce. Not my thing though my pals and Ms Rocky G thought I was nuts. I asked for some chocolate crunchies instead, no whipped cream and thankfully Rocky (who’d been treating me like I had two heads) was finally on my team.

Ahhhh!

It was practically bedazzling. Thin Mints for days.

Normally I have a few bites and give it away to a hungrier companion. But not this time. I never even got a bite of The Samoa version though two people said it was off the charts. I didn’t care. I had crunchies and soft serve chocolate and Thin Mints and Rocky G smiled.

It gets better with age!

Carvel
Wherever you can find one

Snap, Crackle & Pop

Pran Chanachur

Walking my dog every evening past my neighborly corner fruit vendors, I am routinely offered bites of the private stash. They’re having a Bengali chowdown while the rest of us are stocking up on bananas. This HOT Chanachur brightened my rainy late night walk last week and yesterday’s teeming showers blew forth my very own bag from Hassan the fruit vendor. He’d brought it the other day and had it safely stored til he saw me. How fantastic.

It’s basically variations of dried and fried lil’ bits of peanuts, lentils, chickpea flour, green beans, onions, curry leaves and so on. Plus spices. Lots of spices. There’s a mild vinegar version or there’s my Bombay Mix bag – which is HOT and has that malty under taste of mustard seed. And it’s impossible to just eat one handful.

Pop in your favorite Bollywood movie or have the best surprise snack at your weekly poker game – it’s your very own Chex mix, Bengali style.

I have no idea where to get it! Ha. But any Bangladeshi food emporium should do the trick. There’s always the internet of course. Or be lucky enough to have the fruit cart of fruit carts on your corner.