Monday, April 12, 2010

Led Zeppole, Indeed

I truly wanted to like the zeppoles at Led Zeppole for couple of reasons:  First, I was raised on a diet of bad puns.  Second, I was a child at a time in this country when the Campbell's Soup kids were the physical ideal: I was considered underweight, and thus was allowed a bag of zeppoles from a Nostrand Avenue pizzeria a few times a week, after I'd already burned off twenty million calories in the adjacent playground.  I love zeppoles.

On the other hand,  I love pizza, and I had earlier found the eponymous pizza at LZ's companion joint, Artichoke Pizza, to be a gloppy mess, tasting as though cream of artichoke soup had been dumped on chewy, chewy mozz.  (In fact, when I realized that I had been chewing the same piece of cheese as though it were Bazooka for two avenue blocks, I gave up on the whole enterprise.)

Fitting right in with the current notion that more is better and too much is fantastic, the zeppole were coated with so damn much powdered sugar that, when I pulled one from the bag, my poor camera was showered with so much sugar that it looked like a tiny snowdrift on a strap.  The inside was doughy and heavy, likely in part because they were so supersized (see more is better, above) that they couldn't cook all the way through.   

Since this place is positioned (open until 4AM) in large part to fill the bellies of drunken revelers, not only with zeppoles, but fried Oreos and fried cream puffs, I'm sure they will do more than fine without .my approbation.  Me, I'll  head back to Brooklyn to find the ideal zeppole, and maybe have another go at that seesaw.

 

Wednesday, April 07, 2010

Does This Thai Match?

[Having a hard time trying to balance this blog, the NY Daily News blog, and copy editing cookbooks. I'm trying to come up with some kind of rotation by which none of them is neglected for too long.  We'll see.  One good thing for With Leftovers is that I can't barrage the News with stuff from lower Manhattan without end, so I think a lot of that stuff will wind up here, which is largely read (read?  really?) by people hereabouts.]

I really miss Thai on Clinton.  It was our go-to on nights when I was in too bad a mood to cook, a rare thing, or there was something super important going on, like the Rangers playing the Ducks. (That lamest NHL team name ever, except for collective names like the Colorado Avalanche.  The Rangers had a t-shirt a while back that said I Am A Ranger, translated into all the different languages spoken by the guys on the team  How do you do that with a collective? You don't, that's how).

ToC was bought out by a chain, which promptly dropped my favorite, peanut dumplings.  Soon, the food went altogether slipshod, and we stopped ordering.  This was followed by Eastern Parkway or Road or Bypass; it was not open long enough for its name to register.  There was a fair bit of  blog chatter about it, but it sank without trace in less than a month.

Now, we have Pa-Plern, which opened last week.  Ordering was a struggle, as the phone-order taker had little English.  She called us back three times to explain things about our order that I might not have understood that I had already explained I understood.  Repeatedly.  It was rather entertaining, but it won't be next time.

We ordered three apps from the Appetizer Sampler menu (3/$13, 4/$16. 5/$15): peanut dumplings (yay!), curry puffs, and crispy basil duck roll, as well as beef satay and summer rolls from the regular app menu.
The entire order, save the summer roll,  was jumbled together unappetizingly in a single takeout container.  The sauces were thoughtfully labelled to indicate what went with what, though, a nice little touch.

Peanut dumpling was first up.  Smaller, sloppier than ToC, but still quite tasty, with that wonderful glutinous mouthfeel.  I could eat a double order of these for dinner, and probably shall quite soon.

The beef satay ("satae" on the menu) was two large strips of beef with the usual peanut sauce.  I would have preferred four smaller strips, and wound up tearing them in half, but the meat itself was tender and not overcooked.  A bit more char would have bumped it up.



Curry puffs were tender and mild, with a delicious (but perhaps not altogether appropriate) hoisin-ish sauce topped with peanuts. 

The crispy basil duck roll looked more  like a Turkish sigara boregi than a roll. It was nice and crisp, the duck a bit dry, but reasonably well flavored, except for the curious muteness of the basil.



 The vegetarian summer rolls were a mess.  They were poorly wrapped and flavorless, and their primary component was iceberg lettuce.  One contained tofu, the other didn't.  They fell completely apart at first bite.



 Throughout the meal, I tried to keep in mind that the place had been open less that a week, and that it had returned peanut dumplings to my life.  I look forward to Pa-Plem passing through the usual new restaurant growing pains, and turning into a regular go-to to go.

Friday, March 26, 2010

Food Behaving Excessively


The Guardian--and its entertaining roster of commenters--take on the excesses of presentation.
More excess: Ed Levine, of Serious Eats NY, reviews the oversized, verging on ridiculous, Pulino's, a pizzeria with a social pecking order, which guarantees I won't be visiting the joint.

The Kitsap Sun (I love saying that; sounds like ketchup), brings us food excesses of another kind.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

There goes the neighborhood. Again.

My friend EV Grieve gives us a perfect example of how one trendy restaurant can take an entire neighborhood down.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

In the Bahn Mi Zon

Stopped into Bahn Mi Zon, a sunny little Vietnamese place last Saturday, that swoonily sunny day that would have made eating anything heavy seem heretical.  The space is small, but airy and welcoming; the walls are covered with photos of Vietnam and Cambodia that are both astonishing and charming.  Jazz tootles in the background.

We got an order of summer rolls, which we watched being made directly behind the counter.  This may seem like a small matter, but I have had far too many summer rolls that were tough of skin and tired of filling because they had been sitting in the fridge since seven in the morning.  These rolls were tender and fresh, packed with herbs and sparkling.  As a snack for two people for $4.50, they are hard to beat.  My only complaint was that the accompanying peanut sauce was mild enough for a PBJ.  A spoonful of hot sauce set that right, and I  contentedly ate on the bench outside, contemplating the promise of summer.

Ban Mi Zon
443 East 6th St (at Ave A)
646-524-6384

Friday, March 19, 2010

Oh, Bonomo!

Saw the word bonobo and, instead of thinking of peace-loving primates, I think of taffy, which is pretty much how my mind works most days.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

NPR Has Me Feeling Green (and not in a good way)


Before I d before I blow a gasket, memo to NPR's The Takeaway's (and I wish NPR would take it away) John Hockenberry: Guacamole isn't Irish; neither are the disgusting green milkshakes you are featuring on your website. It's all gross, unimaginative, and a more than a little bit insulting.

Friday, March 12, 2010

The Last Roast of Winter

Two days ago, during the  false spring, I made Caesar salad, now, in the cold and dank waning days of winter, I'm roasting a rather large slab of pig.  Not at all unhappy about  this, as I have a lot of work to catch up on, and I see days ahead of pseudo pulled pork, pork fried rice, bean, and other dishes requiring little time and energy from the cook.  But first I have to roast the pork, and I am running late.  Should take less than two hours to cook, but that doesn't count the time it takes to heat the oven and season the meat.  I really should have come straight home from Key Food, but that didn't happen.  If you're a freelancer, you know that sometimes the call of some  semblance of a social life overrides any other considerations.

Poke the pork, which is a 3 pound boneless center cut, all over with a sharp knife, then shove garlic slivers into the holes.  Rub all over with salt and pepper.  With a smaller piece of meat--or more than two eaters--I would use more intriguing spices, but I want the leftovers to be adaptable, not assertive.  Place in a roasting pan, fat side up, then into a 450 oven. Pour a half cup of red wine Samuel Smith's Organic Cherry Ale that just walked in the door with Bruce over the meat. 

Cut some russets in to eighths, then in half.  Toss with olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary.  After twenty minutes or so, douse the pork with more liquid (I've finished the ale, so it's time for red wine for me and the pig), and lower the heat to 325.  After 15 minutes more, put the potatoes in the oven.

Take deep breaths, then turn to the choux a la creme (creamed cabbage to you, mac). Shred half a green cabbage, toss in a wide pan with a couple of tablespoons of butter.  After 15 minutes or so, as it starts to soften, sprinkle with caraway seeds, salt and pepper, and begin feeding it heavy cream, maybe a quarter cup at a time.  Stir occasionally.

Keep dousing the pork (you will probably use a total cup and a half or so of liquid).  Flip the potatoes as they brown.  The cabbage will be done when little liquid remains an it looks elegantly suave with cream. (Depending on the depth of your love for cream, you might use could be one-half to one full cup.). The cabbage will likely be done first, with the meat and potatoes following not long thereafter. The meat is done when its internal temp reaches 150, about an hour and 45 minutes. Let meat rest for ten of fifteen minutes.  Check the potatoes for doneness.  Pour liquid from pork pan into a pot.  Cook down until glossy, adding a bit of thickener (I adore Wondra), if you'd like.  Slice, serve with gravy, and look forward to days of porky goodness.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Food Day Roundup

New York is now a coffee hotbed, according to the NY Times.  Oh joy.  (I just don't get it; I have my two cups of Bustelo in the morning, and I'm good.)
Via the Guardian,  human breast milk cheese at a NYC restaurant. Ewww.
From our friends at Serious Eats New York, sushi pizza. That's not gonna fly in Bay Ridge.
And from one of my favorite papers, The Scotsman, a look at robofood.  Hey, at least robots don't lactate.

Tuesday, March 09, 2010

Go Away, Little Boy

It wasn't bad enough that we had to choke down the treacly account of Amanda Hesser's love life in  "Cooking for Mr. Latte," in the NYT magazine, now we have the micromanaged parenting of "Cooking with Dexter," featuring the culinary stylings of a five-year-old.  I skimmed Latte, I skip Dexter. Memo to Times: No one cares about other people's children.

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I'm a ninth-generation Brooklyn native living in Manhattan.