Cacío e Pepe

As the elder statesman of Chef Savatore Corea's Roman triumvirate (Spiga, on the Upper West Side, is the younger; Bocca near the Flatiron the youngest), Cacío e Pepe has been a hit ever since it opened on lower Second Avenue in the summer of 2004.... which, as Debbie and I found out late last Friday night, is not at all surprising, given its warm, romantic atmosphere and full slate of interesting, under-$20 pastas.

We started the "creative Italian" proceedings with a creamy, room-temperature (not the menu-promised warm, alas) log of Ricotta di Pecora, encrusted in almonds and served with several superb spirals of crispy, salty pancetta, as well as a pile of juicy pear sticks, all lightly doused in balsamic. I was pretty much starving to death when this arrived at our table, and so really appreciated both the rich flavors and the hefty portion.

Next up was the pasta. Debbie went for the namesake Tonnarelli which sounded fantastic (homemade thick spaghetti liberally tossed with cream, romano cacío, and black pepe); looked amazing as it was spun around tableside in a giant cheesewheel bowl... but unfortunately was SO filled with barely-cracked peppercorns that neither one us—pepper lovers both—could enjoy the actual eating part of the dish. I mean, we're talking five or six tooth-shattering pepperbombs in each bite!

I had better luck with my Maltagliati, a generous bowl of wide, molto-fungal noodles served with tender little clams and wonderfully oily porcini. Definitely hit the spot on that cold, cold night.

Dessert was mostly a disappointment (as I've also experienced at Spiga), my Semifreddo di Amaretti tasting like a Good Humor Toasted Almond (which I like OK... but not for $9); the accompanying drizzles of strawberry sauce tasting like very little. So even though this was by no means a perfect meal, the bright spots were bright enough, the atmosphere convivial and welcoming enough, that I would definitely return to try a few other plates.

Cacío e Pepe is located on Second Avenue between 12th and 11th Streets. We had to wait maybe 20 minutes for a table at around 9:45 on a Friday night, but there was a large party of a dozen or so revelers hogging one whole side of the place, so I'm not sure what the usual walk-up wait time would be.

The Smith

Put The Smith on your short list of go-to places in the East Village/Union Square area. In fact, put this spanking-new spot right near the top. I stopped by early this evening for a quick bite, hoping for serviceable comfort food, and was blown away by the care and thought that went into each part of my meal. The flavors were bold and balanced, the kitchen's execution near-perfect, the portions heaping, and the prices very low, with pretty much everything comfortably under $20.

Basically: Welcome to the neighborhood.

Owned and operated by the crew behind Jane and The Neptune Room, the unGoogleable The Smith (how soon before it's nicknamed Morissey?) is bistro-y in its look and feel, all white tiles, dark wood, and small wooden tables. Also of note, decor-wise: vintage pinups cover one wall, and downstairs there's a photo booth, an ancient barber's chair, and an open, communal bathroom—stalls on the left, sinks on the right—designed for maximum interaction between the sexes.

The food. My feast began with what may be the best sharable starter of the year: an overflowing bowl of Hot Potato Chips with blue cheese "fondue," a simple but genius take on nachos, the warm, creamy cheese sauce turning the thin, salty chips just slightly—and beautifully—soggy and chewy. The mouthfeel is terrific, the flavors lively, the whole thing hopelessly addicting.

For my Main Course I went complicated, ordering the Lamb Schnitzel, which turns out to be an excellent choice of meat to pound, batter and fry. Because even coated in a sharp parmesan crust, spiced up with chili flakes, accompanied by lemoned-out greens and placed upon a mountain of wonderfully gummy, lumpy, dijoned mashed potatoes, I could still taste the (by the way tender) lamb. On all levels, this dish was a smashing success. If the pastas, burgers and salads are even half as good as this, The Smith is going to be packed and loud, well into the night. And my side of Brussels Sprouts? Charred to a caramelized crisp, exactly the way I like it.

The Smith is located on Third Avenue between 11th and 10th Streets. The dessert menu looked terrific, highlighted by several cake-and-ice-cream-sundae combos, but I was already ridiculously full. Definitely diving in next time, though—heck, maybe even be tomorrow night!—with help from Bo and Co.

'wichcraft on 8th Street

If the world made any sense, Tom Colicchio's sandwich spin-off of his Craft empire would be a mob scene, and nearby Chipotle, Subway, Johnny Rockets, even the overrated Grey Dog a few blocks away, would be ghost towns. Yes, 'wichcraft can be slightly inconsistent—I'd say one in ten sandwiches have disappointed—but that doesn't explain the near emptiness of this place every time time I've gone... especially as compared to the crowds at the other, similarly priced, and far inferior establishments I mentioned above.

Anyway, I documented my two most recent early dinners at the 'wichcraft on 8th Street (it's a great spot for a pre-movie—or between-movie—quick bite), the first excellent, the second slightly less so. I stopped in one evening on my way from the Angelika to the Regal 14, and had an amazing hot Meatloaf with Cheddar, which also featured thick, smoky bacon slabs and spicy tomato relish. The cibatta roll was soft and fresh, the meat juicy, the whole creation complex, well-balanced, satisfying. For dessert I tried the White Chocolate and Apricot Bar, which was wonderful: sweet, moist, the chocolate and fruit perfect together.


The very next night, and again on my way to the movies, I was back, though this time the results were more mixed. I've had and loved the Slow Roasted Pork sandwich a few times in the past, but on this night the dried-up meat had obviously been sitting around for too long. The sandwich was saved by the moist red-cabbage slaw and jalapenos—delivering that great combo of sweet and heat—but still, I wish the kitchen had noticed the sad state of their swine, and suggested I order something else. My dessert was one of their always reliable Cream'wiches, in this case oatmeal, and in this case delicious.

'wichcraft is located on 8th Street just West of Broadway. There are also locations in West Chelsea, the Flatiron, Tribeca, Soho, and Midtown. You'll find a fairly complete menu as well as online take-out ordering at their website, here.

The Grey Dog's Coffee on University Place

You've been here before, if you've ever had lunch in a New England college town or beach community (think Middlebury, or Martha's Vineyard): the staff all wearing bandannas; huge hand-written chalkboard menu above the counter where you order; planked wooden floors; hand-painted tables; homey, rural knick-knacks; and, because this really is still Manhattan, in lieu of a big ol' golden retriever lying around (also in bandanna), tons of dog photographs on the walls.

If that sort of atmosphere appeals, then you'll certainly enjoy the serviceable sandwiches and salads, the baked goods and beverages, at the new Grey Dog's Coffee on what I guess is the NYC version of the college town, University Place. And if a pang of nostalgia hasn't been provoked... well, then there are plenty of other (often better) places around to get this type of food.

Anyway, last week my mom took me and my hungry daughters to Grey Dog's for lunch. Co had the Grilled Cheese on sourdough with lots of thick, crispy bacon. Like Ted Allen said on Top Chef recently, "If you want to make people happy, two words: ba - con," and, though I thought the sandwich too bready, and the cheese bland, the sweet swiney meat worked its magic yet again on my younger daughter. Bo went the greener route, with an (overly garlicky) Caesar Salad with (overly dry) Chicken Breast. She thought it was just OK.

My mom got the Bacon, Lettuce, and Tomato, extra mayo, and was very happy, both with the place itself and with her lunch. (If you're a real BLT aficionado, however, I suggest you try the version at Marquet Café, just around the corner on 12th Street.) I wolfed a Prosciutto Press on sourdough with mozzarella and, despite the menu promise, not-roasted tomatoes. It filled me up. It was fine.

Everything was reasonably priced—lunch, including beverage, will run you less than $15—freshly made and perfectly mediocre, up to and including the jumbo Chocolate Chip Cookie (go to City Bakery or Birdbath, or even Whole Foods, instead) and iced coffee (go to Joe's).

The Grey Dog's Coffee is located on University Place between 11th and 12th Streets. This is the restaurant's second location; the original is on Carmine Street between Bedford and Bleecker. They are open from early morning (6:30 on weekdays, 7:30 on weekends) to late at night (11:30 and 12:30, respectively).

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.

Piola

Italian/South American pizzeria Piola has been Scoboco's default casual restaurant in the Union Square area for a couple of years now (copying Debbie and her daughters, of course). The attractions are many: reliably tasty and satisfying food; varied, inexpensive menu; fun, design-y decor; fast and friendly service. With many combinations of people and on various occasions, both lunch and dinner, I've pretty much always enjoyed the foldy, nicely-balanced, thin-crusted pizzas, the generous, dress-your-own salads, and the hearty pastas.

Anyway, someone told me recently that, despite living in the neighborhood, he had never been to Piola, thinking that the place "looked too cool to actually have good food", so I thought maybe a post was in order... and last Saturday's apres-movie meal with Bo and Co provided the perfect opportunity.

As usual, we ordered a few things and shared. The menu lists nearly 50 pizza varieties; right now we're hooked on the Rio de Janiero, topped with tomato sauce and mozzarella along with chunks of grilled chicken, melted catupiry cheese (this stuff is fabulously rich and creamy) and flecks of fresh parsley. Another go-to choice of ours is the D'annunzio salad, a huge bowl of mixed greens, tomatoes, corn, bean sprouts, hearts of palm, mozzarella, avocado and hard-boiled egg.


I have less experience with Piola's pastas, but again, it seems like you can't go too badly wrong here. In fact, on this night, it was Bo's favorite part of the meal, a hefty serving of Penne Cividale, with its tomatoes (which, honestly, were a little on the unripe side), Parmesan, rosemary and chewy strips of Parma ham. All of it was more than enough food for the three of us, and all of it costs under $40... including my only real must-order item on the menu, the refreshing and uniquely uplifting Guaraná soda.

Piola is located on 12th Street, just west of Broadway. It's open from 12 until 12 every day. With its high ceilings and music, it can definitely get pretty loud.

Philly Slim's on University

UPDATE: As per eater.com on 7.18.07, Philly Slims on University has been shuttered.

RIP Cheez Whiz... RIP.


This branch of the Philly Slim's cheese steak mini-chain opened late last summer in the heart of heavily-trafficked University Place, but it doesn't seem to have ever caught on, and I don't really understand why.

Debbie and I ate here last fall, had a couple of Classic steak sandwiches with fried onions and cheese whiz, side of fries, butterscotch Tastykakes, and enjoyed it quite a bit (OK, Debbie was less convinced... but she did finish everything). Then I went last night because I needed a ten-minute meal before catching a movie at the Regal, and happily wolfed, again, a Classic with Whiz. I mean, it is what it is, but what it is, is good: appropriately greasy and cheesy and gooey, the meat lean and sliced super thin, the bun soft but not soggy, the hot sauce a perfect complement. I have to say I liked it a lot more than my last burger at nearby Stand, and it's about half the price.

So why don't more people—students, hipsters, families, quick-bite lovers and needers of all stripes—go here? Why don't I go here? Is it too visually unappealing? (It's actually pretty clean, though the high stools aren't terribly comfortable...). No customers begets more no customers? New York just not a cheese steak town? Why?

Philly Slim's is located on University Place between 13th and 12th Streets. There are about six places to sit and eat inside, the staff was exceptionally friendly, the food fast, and just about all sandwiches—even if you pile on the extras—are under ten dollars. The other Philly Slims is on Ninth Avenue, between 51st and 52nd... though if you're in that area, I would suggest the excellent Empanada Mama's instead.

Ariyoshi

It was a few years ago, in I can't remember which book (I think it was a novel), and one of the characters is riffing on how inadequate the English language is because it lacks the ability to convey many complex emotions with a single, specific word. For example, he says, the feeling you get when you walk by an empty restaurant during dinnertime... there should be a word for that! I knew exactly what he meant: that swirling mixture of pity (poor bastards...), admiration (must have taken a lot of hard work...), guilt (maybe I should try this place...), and completely unearned feelings of superiority (what were they THINKING?!?).

Anyway, if a word did exist for that feeling, I would have used it every time I passed Ariyoshi over the past four or five months. Opened last fall on a sparsely-traveled stretch of lower Broadway—right where 11th Street doesn't go through to the east side, next to the Halloween store—this tastefully (and, I would guess, quite expensively) renovated, high-ceilinged sushi place/izikaya is seemingly always, absolutely, completely, utterly empty. Maybe it's the block, or the ugly exterior (really, though, it is pretty inside), or the non-existent PR, but the place appears to be stone cold dead every night.

Finally Debbie broke the ice a month ago to check out their new lunch specials... and was impressed. Two more visits (one good, one less so) confirmed that Ariyoshi was definitely a viable neighborhood option. So then I went, and totally agree. First it was lunch, Fred's treat, and we both enjoyed a large and tasty bowl of udon noodle soup, a serviceable green salad, and a nice-sized serving of don, which was four bright and melty slices of fish (I had the tuna; Fred the yellowtail) draped over vinegared rice. All of this was included in the lunch special, for an extremely reasonable $10.95.

Then Debbie and I returned another night for dinner, and I couldn't believe how good it was, starting with a truly first-rate seaweed salad—four different kinds of sea-veggies, no lettuce filler, briny and clean-tasting, understated sesame dressing—through to the sashimi appetizer and sushi deluxe (nine pieces, plus a roll, only $23!). All the fish was fresh and tender and richly-flavored... which, if nothing else, represents a remarkable achievement in food inventory management, considering there were only two others tables taken in the entire place that night. Don't get me wrong: this is no Blue Ribbon, or Ushi Wakamaru, or Japonica. But to get this kind of quality fish for these prices makes Ariyoshi well worth rooting for.

Total coincidence department: After reading nothing about this place for months, TimeOut NY singled it out in yesterday's issue for its yakitori, especially the chicken meatballs, fatty chicken skin, and chicken hearts. I was definitely planning on going back anyway, but now I'll be sure to try the izikaya side of the menu.

Stand

The glib review is this: Stand is bland.






Scoboco had dinner last Saturday at this spanking-new burger place on 12th and University... and maybe our expectations were too high (based on the reasonably cool signage and decor, and the hype, and the hope for another tasty mid-priced place to eat) but the food here—basically, burgers and fries and milkshakes—was, at best, extremely mediocre.


We started with what turned out to be the best (if somewhat ridiculous) dish of the night: the $3 pickled egg: nice and vinegary, with a mustard-onion sauce. Unfortunately, it all kind of went downhill from there. I had a mostly tasteless Cheeseburger with Blue Cheese Sauce... I say mostly, because a couple of bites felt like I hit these hidden pockets of salt, as if they actually HAD seasoned the meat, but then didn't bother to mix it in. Plus: major points deducted for my bottom bun disintegrating about two-thirds of the way through. Co was equally disappointed with her tempting-sounding Bacon & Egg Cheeseburger, which turned out to have very little of either one of those toppings, and Bo gamely made her way through much of an exceptionally dry Turkey Burger; the only thing that saved her was the decent condiments on the table: spicy Jacobs Field mustard and a salsa-y ketchup. And the french fries? Thank goodness we got the "small," because this was among the most flavorless plate of potatoes we've ever had. To be fair, Bo's and my milkshakes, Pumpkin and Maple & Almond, respectively, were pretty good, though Co's Chocolate was almost undrinkable, after the bartender had obviously been a bit too overeager with the cocoa powder.

Stand has only been open for a little more than a week, and I'm totally rooting for them to get their act together and serve up some good food... but right now BLT Burger, only a couple of blocks away, is about four or five times as good, and for about the same price.

Boqueria

It's easy to be seated immediately at even the hottest no-reservation place in town... all you need is the willingness to eat dinner at, say, 5:30. Which I totally have, and so was able to waltz right in and get a table at Boqueria a couple of Fridays ago, just two days after Frank Bruni had two-starred their tapas in the Times.

I've always been vaguely suspicious of tapas places, thinking they're a sucker's bet... a calculated way to get people drinking and ordering round after round of these tiny plates until you've pretty much doubled what your food bill would have been had you just had an entree somewhere else. I guess I would still call a mediocre tapas spot a rip-off... but fortunately, Boqueria is miles from mediocre. And so as I sat there with my feet comfortably dangling from my tall chair at my tall table in this lovely room with its excellent lamps and friendly servers, I said to myself, because there was no one else to talk to, "Scott, treat tapas as a mini tasting menu, get four 'courses' for around $40 with tip, and enjoy..." And so I did.

My first two dishes—both $6 tapas-sized—were fabulous. The dates stuffed with almonds and cabrales (a blue-ish cheese) and then wrapped in bacon were plump, incredibly rich and, given the intensity of the ingredients, remarkably balanced. Grilled lamb skewers, marinated in lemon and cumin and served on crunchy bread, were beautifully charred, alive with flavor. I kicked it up a bit for my third course, getting a "Media Racion"—about the size of a generous appetizer, for $11—of sardines prepared two ways over fingerling potatoes and heirloom tomatoes. The flash-grilled fish was possibly the best sardine I've ever eaten: moist, firm, and amazingly subtle in its flavor. The fried swimmer was considerably less subtle, but still quite tasty, and both worked well with their accompanying "atoes". My final course was another $6 portion, the chorizo and fried quail egg on toast, which was delicious in a breakfasty way (if you think you'll like this dish, you definitely will), but just as an aside, I must say I 've never had a quail egg and thought "sooooooo much better than what a chicken lays!" Definitely looked cute on my plate, though.

BLT Burger

The perfect meal can come in many forms, of course. My dinner at Alinea this past summer was definitively, spectacularly, perfect—probably the best meal of my life. But I'd also call dinners I've had at Megu, and wd-50, perfect... and, for other, various reasons, meals at Resto Leon, S'Mac, Ushi Wakamaru, Puff and Pao, Otto, Momofuku, Pizza Bar, Gyu Kaku, the Dorset Inn for my Mom's 60th birthday, not to mention Roasted Salmon here at home with Bo and Co, and a certain Chicken with Eggplant I've only ever had on E10. Anyone could make such a list.

Anyway, what I'm really try to say is this: last Saturday evening, hungry, chilly and alone, I stumbled into the soft opening of BLT Burger (now "officially" open, and on Sixth Avenue between 10th and 11th Streets), and wolfed an absolutely perfect cheeseburger, fries and milkshake dinner. The burger—I got the "classic"—was perfect: charred and meaty and juicy, topped with pickles and fresh lettuce and tomato. Maybe the bun was a little squishy... or maybe I'm looking too hard to find something wrong. The fries: perfect. I ordered the waffle variety, and they came lightly dusted with something spicy and were crisp and thick and flavorful. And my milkshake? Perfect! I had strawberry/chocolate, and it was smooth and sweet and delicious. The whole thing cost about $20 with tip, which is pretty good for sit-down dinner and dessert in that part of town.

The BLT stands for Bistro Laurent Tourondel, and he was in the house that Saturday night (as opposed to minding other kitchens in his burgeoning BLT empire of Steak, Prime, and Fish) and, for one night at least, he's serving up casual, tasty, perfection.






UPDATE. I went back again tonight and, if anything, my meal was even better. This time I had the "BLT Burger"—two patties, bacon, green peppercorn sauce—and it was unbelievably juicy and tasty... better than the classic. The "hand cut" fries weren't as good as the waffles, but they were still hot and skinny and fresh and crunchy. And the milkshake? Oh my god, the Mocha Mudslide was like sucking ice cream heaven. By the way, both times the service has been warm and attentive and friendly. Not surprisingly, the place was nearly full even at 5:30 when I ate, and totally mobbed when I walked by later, at around 9:00.