Last weekend’s mission to Borough Park was a sweet success thanks to the Italian sandwich butter cookies at Royal Crown Bakery, one of the top bakeries in Brooklyn.
Apart from being one of my favorites at bakery counters, I don’t know much about the sandwich butter cookie, except that its two layers are glued together with raspberry jam, and locked on one end with a dip of chocolate and multicolor sprinkles. As Italian cuisine is primo when it comes to cookies (the toothsome antidote to espresso), Brooklyn’s Italian bakeries always showcase the generically-named “butter cookies” as well as biscotti, (more…)
Like I always say, just because there’s a layer of bulletproof glass between you and a restaurant kitchen, doesn’t mean they’re not serving up some fantastic food. God knows, I’ve met my share of jerks. And I’m honestly not a big chicken fan either (despite writing about it twice in the last two weeks) but I’m cultivating a meaningful and healthy relationship with Jerk City’s jerk chicken, which may be my favorite chicken of all time. A local winner that’s no stranger to food critics, the staff (and customers) are as sweet as their tutti frutti cake.
Jerk City does a largely to-go business, but I’d definitely consider calling them to cater a summertime bash. At 9 dollars, their medium order of jerk chicken can (more…)
Strolling down Court Street last weekend, I stopped into Marquet Patisserie in search of something sweet, small and delicious to go. From their selection of classic French offerings like croissants, madeleines and quiche, I settled on some decidedly un-French coconut macaroons. While the original macaroon made from almonds originated in 18th-Century France, the coconut “haystack” version may have come from Italian Jews who soon after introduced the cookie to the Ashkenazim, Eastern European Jews. (The word ‘macaroon’ may come from the Italian word maccarone which is Italian for paste). The flourless (more…)
Take the cannoli: a round, deep-fried pastry shell filled with a sweet ricotta cheese mixture that’s freckled with tiny chocolate chips. A Sicilian specialty, cannoli were traditionally made for February’s carnival festivities, but this world-renowned dessert is now popular all year round. Cannoli’s criss-crossing history is difficult to unravel. Its origins can be traced back to pre-Christian times and their tubular shape may reference Druid fertility symbols. (more…)
Due to the grossness factor of noxious mutant chicken parts, I rarely eat chicken. Recently, however, the idea of hot buffalo wings with thick blue cheese sauce and cold beer sounded pretty irresistible. Brooklyn has some solid wing options in restaurants and bars, particularly Bonnie’s Grill, highly praised for their buffalo wings. But I wanted to try a place that specialized exclusively in chicken wings. I soon found myself at Wing Wagon, where I’d hoped to get messy with a mound of bona fide chicken wings.
Your choices in a chicken wing establishment are level of heat (mild to Chernobyl), wing form (the standard “flats and drums” or “fingers”), sides (hardly necessary), and the sauce (always blue cheese). Other wing joint offerings such as (more…)
Near the top of my ever-growing list of beloved fried foods is crab rangoon. I was first introduced to crab rangoon fifteen years ago at Royal Peking in Lawrence, Kansas. Served five to an order, this delicate appetizer quickly became one of my favorites. To make crab rangoon, a wonton is filled with a mixture of cream cheese, crabmeat, scallions and seasonings, formed into a sachet, and deep fried until (more…)
Stan’s Place feels the way my romanticized New Orleans does. With its high ceilings, creeping plants, warm brick and dark wood accents, and the sunlight playing off the warm copper bar, diners enjoy a lolling blues and jazz soundtrack with classic versions of French, Creole and Cajun cooking. The phrase painted on the back wall of the restaurant says it all – “Slo’ Down, Relax & Enjoy.” And it would be hard not to. The vibe at Stan’s Place is one part Cajun roadhouse, one part Vieux Carré and one part “drop by and stay awhile.”
Chef Rob McManus, a Katrina survivor, specializes in “authentic Creole and progressive (more…)
When I hear descriptors like “restaurant row” and “trendy dining mecca” applied to eating out in Brooklyn, it sometimes makes me want to stay home and make myself some cereal. While Smith Street is populated by many well-known, fantastic restaurants like Saul and The Grocery, one of my favorite places doesn’t usually make local magazines’ “Top Eats” lists. It’s El Nuevo Cibao, a no-frills Dominican restaurant open for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
My top eats at El Nuevo Cibao include the delicious roast pork sandwich on a fresh hero roll with a bit of Jamaican Parrot hot sauce on the side, as well as the pork chop sandwich; two deboned chops on a thin roll fried and flattened using a sandwich press. They offer a solid Cuban sandwich – layers of pickles, roast pork, ham and cheese, but the pork and chop sandwiches are what keep me going back. (more…)
I thought I had coined the term “phonatic” to describe a person who was wild about the soup pho, but was disappointed to find it was already common parlance among the world’s pho lovers. Still, people are wild about pho, the delicious aromatic beef broth that is the national soup of Vietnam. Pho (pronounced “fuh”) is like a warm nap in a faraway, exotic location. The dish has a curiously dedicated following outside of Vietnam, particularly in light of the culinary challenges (dogs, embryonic duck eggs) that Vietnamese cuisine can present to the Western diner. But pho is a different story altogether. I attribute pho’s popularity partly to Americans’ desire to “have it your way.” When pho is served, a variety of ingredients arrive alongside the bowl of hot broth. These typically include different types of meat (raw and cooked), purple basil, cilantro, scallion, thin strands of white onion, bean sprouts, lemon or lime, noodles, hot sauce or jalapenos. You assemble your own dish to taste. Hate cilantro? Just don’t put it in. In the U.S. an order of pho comes in a bowl the size of a baby pool (more…)
“Doughnut” was one of the first words I uttered as a child. My pronunciation was a little off, and it sounded like I was saying “da-deeee.” But my parents quickly learned as I pointed to a doughnut that either I was attempting to say “doughnut,” or I believed that a doughnut was my father. Doughnuts remain one of my favorite foods of all time. It’s partly the childhood memories of my doughnut, I mean…father, bringing home doughnuts as a treat on weekend mornings, as I dreamed of one day working in a doughnut shop. But maybe it’s the way the doughnut holds its shape just right; not quite letting on its airiness, so that when you take a bite, it deflates, allowing you to fit a good half doughnut in your mouth when you didn’t think you could fit nearly that much.
The history of doughnuts in America begins with Washington Irving describing Dutch settlers’ doughnut-like dish in New Amsterdam (that’s New York) in the early 19th century. (more…)
