The Ottimo™ Ciao Bella® Ice Cream Sandwich at Eleni's®

It was Debbie and her daughters who first discovered these beauties, tucked away inside the Chelsea Market, and later she brought a bagfull over to my place for me, Bo, and Co. Since then I've gone out of my way twice for more, a sure sign that, even in a town packed with excellent on-the-go treats, these sweets—basically, intense Ciao Bella gelato sandwiched between soft Eleni's cookies—will remain in our steady dessert rotation for some time to come.

The multi-branded Ottimos come in four flavors, the best a toss up between the refreshing Strawberry—the fruity filling an unexpectedly perfect pairing for the cinnamony Snickerdoodles—and the rich, aromatic Espresso, nicely complemented by Chocolate "Neat" Cookies, which I guess means "studded with cakey bits and white chocolate chunks." Really, both of these are pretty much ice-cream-sandwich heaven; choose to suit your mood.

Also good, if much less crave-able, are the super-sweet Chocolate/Chocolate Chip, and the somewhat blandly sophisticated Lemon/Lemon Poppy. These will do in a pinch, but are definitely second tier.

Eleni's is located in the Chelsea Market, which can be entered on either Ninth or Tenth Avenues, between 15th and 16th streets. Eleni's is probably best known for its impressive selection of creatively, temptingly decorated cookies and cupcakes, though I've found these to be only serviceable.

Ronnybrook Milk Bar

Call it, not haute barnyard, but wholesome barnyard food... what the farmer's wife would have served her hungry field workers in some never-existent idyll, and entirely fitting for a company whose signature product is, after all, milk.

Bo, Co and I answered the clang of Ma's triangle yesterday and went to the Chelsea Market for a farmhand's feast at the new Ronnybrook Milk Bar. And while the overall experience was a bit mixed—loved the decor and desserts; loved the lunch a good deal less—the large menu of savories and sweets will definitely have us coming back for more.

What impressed us most about the interior is how they resisted the cliché "general store" look (think Good Enough to Eat on the Upper West Side, or Grey Dog in the Village) and instead nicely combined the rustic and rough-hewn with a contemporary cleverness (the hidden door in the back, the milk-crate walls with embedded refrigerators, the milk-bottle glasses) as well as a sleek island kitchen and wrap-around counter.

As for the food, the best savory dish we ordered was a Golden Beet Salad, which came with fennel, radishes and some first-rate Sprout Creek goat cheese. It was all very bright and refreshing, and the proportions within the salad were heavy with goodies, but you should know that this $7.50 plate is very much a side dish. Also good—juicy and full-flavored—was Bo's Berkshire County Ham and Gruyere on Pressed Rye, a solid entry into the grilled cheese genre.

Less successful was my Free Range Roast Chicken Sandwich, with Grafton cheddar, avocado and bacon: far too dry, and, especially considering all the ingredients, sadly flavorless. Co's Baked Country Mac and 3 Cheeses was even more dry and bland... so much so that she couldn't even bring herself to finish the small crock.

But if the meal was inconsistent (and, I must say, overpriced) the desserts sent us out the door with a sugar-induced stagger and a smile. They were out of Doughnut Bowls in which to serve their ice cream, so Bo went for the Ice Cream Cookie Sandwich, opting for a huge scoop of lively mint chocolate chip between two sweet and crunchy chocolate chip cookies. This was excellent, easily split-able (had we been so inclined) and, at $3, a real sweet-treat bargain.

I had a Sundae, hot fudge over two scoops of coconut ice cream with a generous dollop of thick, homemade cream.... all of which made for a total sugar bomb, and a ridiculous, though admittedly delicious, thing to eat at 1:30 in the afternoon. The biggest dessert winner was Co's vanilla and strawberry shake, light and fresh and frothy with a wonderfully intense berryness at its core.

Ronnybrook Milk Bar is located within the Chelsea Market, which has entrances on both Ninth and Tenth Avenues, between 15th and 16th Streets. Hours are 8:30am to 7pm during the week; 10:00 to 6:00 on Saturday and Sunday. We were disappointed to discover that they stop serving their egg dishes (read: breakfast) at 11:45 on weekdays.

Dirty Bird To Go (Revisit)

Scoboco got a big bag of takeout from Dirty Bird To Go a little over a year ago, maybe a week after it first opened, and we were completely underwhelmed: by the service, by the selection, and, especially, by the food, which we thought at the time to be "stunningly bland."

But given the pedigree of the owners (Southern folk late of Jake's Luxury Oyster Bar), the nagging feeling that I went too soon, and am now missing out (the place couldn't have survived this long if it were still serving food as poor as we experienced that day, right?), and, most important, the fact that fried chicken happens to be one of my favorite things in the world, I knew I needed to give these birds another chance. Which happened last Friday evening on my way to play with Pablo. And man am I glad I did.

I ordered the two piece Buttermilk Dipped Free-range Fried Chicken, requesting dark meat. The pieces were smaller than I would have liked (there was a moment of real sadness when I opened the carton in Williamsburg and saw my slim pickings), but they tasted terrific: juicy, crispy, full-flavored, fresh, and genuine. A truly top-notch fried thigh and leg. And my Macaroni and Cheese side dish was equally excellent, though again perhaps a little stingy in the size: the pasta had some bite; the cheese was nice and, um, cheesy; the whole thing a savory, creamy delight. The one mistake here was the Unleavened Shallot Cornbread, which was dry, sullen, and overwhelmed with onion.

Dirty Bird To Go is located on 14th Street just west of Seventh Avenue. Though primarly a take-out place, there are few stools inside and a bench out front, making it a definite Quick Bite consideration if you're passing through the neighborhood.

The Inn LW12

Last night Bo had a dinner gathering with some friends, so Co suggested that she and I hit the Meatpacking District and get us some poutine! Yeah, not really. The poutine was actually my idea... but once Co figured out what the heck I was talking about, she was more than game. And so to the spanking-new Inn LW12 we went, enjoying a consistently satisfying and tasty meal amidst the earliest of the MePa hordes.

In case you haven't heard, poutine is classic French-Canadian comfort food, and in its purest form consists of
1. french fries;
2. brown gravy;
3. melted curd cheese.

It's not a subtle dish... which fit right in with everything else about our meal, starting with the atmosphere in the bar area, which was loud and desperate, even at 7:30. Apparently there were no tables in the supposedly more sedate "canoe room" upstairs, though Co ran some recon and expressed her enthusiasm for the decor, including the Native American garb pinned to the wall.

Anyway, the food. We started with the succulent Crispy Pig's Trotter (read: feet), which was breaded and pressed and fried and served with dabs of dijon mustard, frisse and a peppery pile of French lentils. This was an excellent dish, especially the intense, prosciutto-like shavings of smoky pig scattered about the plate.

Then it was on to the main course, for which we split a Grilled Lamb Burger with chickpea fries. Heeding Restaurant Girl's disappointing experience with a too-dry patty, we ordered ours medium rare, and it arrived plenty juicy, plenty fatty, plenty rich. Fearing too much heat, I asked for the harissa mayonnaise on the side, but I needn't have worried, as the condiment was, if anything, too tame for the dish. But no matter, as Co and I were by now far too distracted by our just-arrived plate of poutine. We opted for the Classic—it's also served vegetarian style, or with spicy pork belly, or with braised beef and stilton—and it was large, crunchy, chewy, saucy, salty, totally addicting, totally delicious. Really? If this was all we had ordered for dinner, we would have walked away happy and full.

We were now thoroughly stuffed, but there was Sticky Toffee Pudding on the dessert menu, and we were helpless. Though not quite as good as the version at Schiller's (and not even close to the one Debbie and I had at Andrew Edmonds in central London), this is still a highly respectable entry into the genre: dense, gooey, more molasses-y than most, unbelievably sweet.

The Inn LW12 is in the townhouse on the southeast corner of Little West 12th Street and Ninth Avenue. In what I presume to be an attempt to heighten the anonymous-hence-coolness quotient, the signage outside still says Rio Mar, the building's previous tenant.

Swich

It seemed like Bo and Co had a hundred days off in January (ok, it was seven, but still...), and so on one of those days I decided: we're going out to lunch. Which is why on a recent freezing Monday afternoon the three of us found ourselves tucking into a delicious hot sandwich-y feast at the Swich, a new, cool place on 8th Avenue, right up from 15th Street.

Swich serves creative, hot-pressed sandwiches (or "deconstructed" salad versions thereof) and that's pretty much it. I had the Trojan Horse: rosemary focaccia filled with ground lamb, tomato, tzatziki, and fresh mint. It was juicy, hearty, full-flavored, as tasty a sandwich as I've had in a long time. Co played it safe with the Cuban, and was rewarded with a well-made version of the classic: marinated pork, swiss cheese, boiled ham and pickle chips on fresh french bread. Bo devoured her Tuna-na-na, starring white albacore with marinated artichokes and olive tapenade on crunchy 7-grain bread. I had bites of both, and both were terrific. We all split a bag of Swich's "Internationally Famous Potato Chips", which are made on premises, and are thin, crunchy, a delight. We also shared a Homemade Banana Lemonade, which was less interesting than it sounds, and not really worth the $3 price tag. For dessert? A totally unecessary but nonethless scrumptious something called Edible Happiness: basically a grilled dark chocolate, white chocolate and Nutella sandwich.

The atmosphere here friendly-hipster, there's one big communal table, the music is loud and pretty good, and one of the flat screen monitors plays SwichTV, which seems to be devoted solely to staffers doing goofy things. Bo and Co liked the place a lot, and we all agreed that it's a welcome, inexpensive, quick-bite addition to that neighborhood.

Morimoto

Debbie and I did a little holiday splurging last Thursday and had a fabulous three-hour meal at Morimoto, chatting and goofing and laughing and loving nearly all of the eight courses (plus intermezzo) that made up that night's omakase.

This big, fun, slickly-designed restaurant (on 10th Avenue between 15th and 16th Streets), has been open now for almost a year, and though it was pretty packed the whole time we were there, I secured our 7:30 reservation only the day before, so maybe it's not quite the hot ticket it was last spring. But the service was low-key, friendly and attentive; the bathroom stalls tricky and cool; and, best of all in terms of atmosphere, they have somehow mastered the noise level issue that has baffled so many other places: Morimito felt like a party—there were lots of people in high spirits, and the lounge-y electronica music was loud enough to really hear—but we could talk comfortably without raising our voices.

As for the food... most of what we had was excellent. The rich, luscious Toro Tartare covered a small wooden tray, with five complements at bottom—wasabi, creme fraiche, crispy rice cracker "pops", a terrific seaweed sauce and something else—a dollop of osetra cavier on top and a miniature flat shovel as the utensil. The Yellowtail Carpaccio in Scallion-Ginger Dressing was sweet and melty. The Whitefish on Something with eggplant and a perfect passion fruit dipping sauce struck a nice balance between salty, oceanic, and refreshingly citrusy. The big missed opportunity in the meal's first half was the Oyster with Foie Gras and Uni, which sounds amazing but was unfortunately drenched in teriyaki sauce.

After the entertaining Green Tea intermezzo, it was on to six beautiful pieces of Sushi; a competent Grilled Lobster, somewhat bizarrely covered in spices Debbie and I associate more with Indian food (and which neither one of us particularly enjoy), but I did appreciate its almost custardy lemon creme fraiche accompaniment; and, perhaps the best dish of the night, a generous, thinly sliced and totally delicious Kobe fillet over grilled sweet potatoes. Dessert was about as good as it gets in an Asian restaurant, with the coconut gelato and crisp, toffee-like cookie being the highlights.

Basically, we had a blast... and an exceptional meal.

Fatty Crab

I guess I just can't eat sambal-laced Nasi Lemak like I used to... nor, for that matter, hefty chunks of mercilessly fatty, densely seasoned pork belly. Don't get me wrong: I thought just about everything we had at Fatty Crab last week was delicious (please note: DGlass was not as convinced). It's just that my body doesn't handle such enthusiastically funky food so well anymore.

Fatty Crab's been open for about a year, and it's still crawling with foodies swooning over Zak Pelaccio's intense Malaysian food, as well as sexed-up scenesters getting a feeding in before heading a couple blocks north to the Meatpacking Zoo. DGlass and I had to wait about 30 minutes for a table last Tuesday night, and we got there pretty early (around 7:00, I think), though our friendly hipster host assured us that the longish delay was caused by the band Razorlight, who had booked half the restaurant for a post-Letterman-taping feast.

Anyway, the food: I loved the Fatty Duck "speciality" and the Watermelon Pickle and Pork "salad", both pictured here, though as DGlass pointed out these were essentially the same dish done two ways: both were deeply, exotically seasoned hunks of meat, dripping with fat, punctuated by a refreshing counterpoint. The Nasi Lemak consisted of a spicy, tender whole chicken leg and a poached egg on coconut rice, surrounded by piles of dried anchovies, cilantro, pickled carrots, (maybe) fish flakes and several other "condiments". Interesting and flavorful, I thought; DGlass was less charmed. We also ordered the disappointing Fatty Tea Sandwiches, which basically tasted like spicy white bread.

The prices are reasonable, the food messy, tasty and designed to share, the ambience all noisy, pre-party fun. Now if only my stomach would cooperate a little more...

del posto

ok this'll be my last birthday post, i promise. after three straight nights of being showered with love and good food--first at room 4 dessert, then tokyo pop, then monkeytown--two saturdays ago the gorgeous dglass got all ridiculous on me and treated me to a spectacular, jacket-n-tie, old-world-elegance dinner at mario battali's del posto.

first let me say that i've never eaten at a place with this kind of... what?... like five-star service: supremely attentive and thoughtful, never overbearing, at least six different people attending to our every need, my water glass was NEVER empty (and i drank like 25 of them!), and they even brought over this silly little stool upon which dglass could rest her bag.

as for the food, it was beautiful. we each ordered the ten-course chef's tasting menu, which to me is totally the way to go at special-occasion places like this. it was all very, very good, but here are some highlights: the pea pasta packets were heavenly. the head cheese (they didn't call it that, but that's what it was) was decadent and delicious, especially paired with the AMAZING 25-year-old balsamic vinegar. the vegetables in truffle oil were perfect. the rigatoni with boar was rich and wonderful. the honey--the honey!--that came with the cheese course was fabulous. the attention to detail on each dish made the entire meal so tasty; such an unforgettable experience. and THEN, after all that eating, they bring around this UNbelievable cookie cart, and gave us like three-desserts-worth of the best italian cookies i've ever had in my life.

dglass and i have celebrated four birthdays together, and done the tasting menu thing each time: at jack's luxury oyster bar, megu, wd-50, an now del posto. and it's such a joy to share such special nights with such a special woman.

quick bites

one of my LEAST favorite ways to spend a weekend day is with a long, sit-down brunch/lunch.

i mean, we usually don't get out of the house until 12:00 at the earliest... and we've had a big breakfast at like 11:00... so who wants to spend, say, 90 minutes of potential adventure time waiting for a table and eating at some silly, crowded brunch place?

just a quick aside. everyone knows the secret to delicious french toast, right? challah bread, of course. eggs, milk, NEVER oil, obviously. sometimes a little sugar's good. raspberries, or blueberries... yes, absolutely. but put a teaspoon of vanilla in there (it's essential to get the real stuff, like nielson-massey's, from madagascar) and you've got yourself a plate of something truly scrumptious. and the best bacon? niman ranch. but you knew all that already.

anyway, in scoboco's opinion, by far the best weekend afternoon eating plan is the quick bite. basically: good food you can get without a big to-do; without even waitress service. here's some of our favorite spots...


we think pop burger, on 9th avenue and 15th street, has the best fries in town: crispy on the outside, smooth on the inside, packed with potato flavor. the sliders (mini hamburgers) and milkshakes are pretty tasty, too. there's fun music... a couple of basquaits on the wall... and the font? totally killer.

two doors down is pizza bar, which, yes, has waitress service... but it also has the coolest booths in around, and good music, and like a light-show going on in the lounge in the back and the thin-crust pizza's good, and if you go in the mid-afternoon it's empty so you can goof around and it's all very fast and fun.


empanadas are pretty much the perfect quick bite: tasty and filling and different enough from bo and co's usual weekday lunch to make them seem like a treat. as i mentioned in my last post, our favorite spot right now is empanada mama, on 9th avenue and 51st. we also always enjoy rubens empanadas on broome street and i think it's west broadway (there's also one in the east village now).

and have you ever had a paolito? it's like a chewy, cheesy, puffy, crispy, bread ball which takes two bites to finish and is UNbelievably delicious. puff & pao--on christopher street between bleeker and hudson--is the only place i know that sells them and they are a huge hit when scoboco's hanging in the west village. they come in lots of flavors (though all have cheese): cracked pepper, chorizo, fig and walnut, ham and cheddar, granpadano, roasted red pepper, garlic, etc. etc.. you get five of these beauties (mix it up) for three bucks and you are totally set. they also have sweet cream puffs and pastries, plus lots of coffee varieties and almond milk and other things. and if you're going to go, you should go soon, because the place is always pretty empty so i'm worried they won't last. fingers crossed.

there are obviously 7 billion places to get a slice of pizza in the city, but the only one that bo and co ever ASK to go to is pie, on 4th avenue between 12th and 13th streets. the thin-crust pizza is extra-tasty (note: dglass disagrees, and i may have mentioned elsewhere that she thinks she's always right?), and you buy it by the pound... the "pies" are actually these long ovoid things and you tell them how much to cut off and they weigh your piece and charge you accordingly. it's not super-cheap, but we like the pizza, like the beverage selection, like the whole nyu/union square vibe of the place. and the location is perfect for a pre-movie quick bite.

any suggestions for other quick bite spots? please let us know!