If you’ve followed this blog you would be aware of how much I love Al Di La. I wrote about it here and here. I love it so much that it’s my default place to wow guests, especially those who are not aware of the wealth of restaurants in Brooklyn.
Sepia and oxtail over polenta
Oxtail and sepia together is just a crime. It’s like making heaven better! The bed of polenta is a good cushion and buffer for the rich flavor of this combination. Continue reading
Cornelius has long been a favorite because of their $1 oysters during happy hour, an offering they now have all day everyday (score!). We hadn’t visited in a while so we wanted to confirm their oyster hours and learned not only of this fact, but also that their menu has changed. So we stopped by and met the new chef Dave, who came out wondering who was ordering all the oysters and the specials. I like that touch. A chef has rarely come out to tell me (sincere or not) how much he feels that my gusto in sampling all his/her dishes is flattering to him. Dave sent over a half portion of the only special we were not able to try, and also a warm pecan pie on the house. I love being loved by restaurants, especially in New York. I think the love makes or breaks them. In this city where restaurants are a dime a dozen, you’d think everyone would catch on to that fact.
A normal start of two dozen oysters
Have you ever fallen in love with a restaurant? It happens to me sometimes, not very often, and especially for places I would have otherwise ignored if not for someone else’s feedback or my own curiosity.
Chicken Satay and Peanut Sauce
Sky Ice is one of those places. Looking mostly like a dessert place, the ice cream counter overshadows its meal offerings we only realized existed after reading reviews online.
Cozy interior of this family-run joint.
Asian food always makes me suspicious, and I personally come up with a very biased set of criteria which includes whether a particular dish is something I could easily replicate at home. If I can make it, you’d better not charge me too much for it, or else you’d better blow me away. This is why we were disappointed in the last famous Thai restaurant we tried. Maybe my judgement is just flawed. Everyone else seems to love that place, except of course all the credible Asians I’ve asked. 
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Did I tell you New Yorkers are very particular with their pizza? I think I did here. Each resident of this lovely city has his or her favorite pizza joint, and mine is Lucali. Of course, it wasn’t always Lucali. I spent many years pre-Lucali making the trek to Grimaldi’s and Patsy’s, lining up for hours for a slice at DiFara’s, experimenting outside our shores in Rome’s Pizzeria Da Baffeto, and in Sint Maarten’s La Fregate. One cannot underestimate the joy of finding a good pie.
A good pie is crispy, brick-oven baked, with slightly charred edges, and not soggy. It’s all about the crust.
But I digress. Usually when I am asked if I have tried (insert name) pizza yet, I am skeptical, and depending on the reliability of the inquirer’s taste and the delivery of his feedback, I might give it a shot. Friends of friends recommended this place, and we’re glad we listened. It now tops our list. Continue reading
Aliseo reminds me of the little grandmother cooking in the back of this small hole in the wall retaurant called Alfredo e Ada in Rome, so I was glad to learn that its owner grew up in the kitchens of the Adriatic Coast of Italy. Situated in the newest restaurant hotbed in Brooklyn, Vanderbilt Avenue, Aliseo’s presence doesn’t jump out at you but instead fades into the background the way a word-of-mouth-famous restaurant should.
Aliseo interior.
I like this area because I’ve lived in it for about a decade, long enough to be happy dining well in a part of town you wouldn’t walk at night just a few years ago.
Indeed, Vanderbilt avenue seems to the newest Park Slope Fifth avenue with the number of creative and exceptional restaurants to choose from. Among them are Cornelius, The Vanderbilt, Amorina, R&D, Milk Bar, Cataldo’s, and speakeasies like my favorite Weather Up.
Our pasta being made.
We walked in early on a weeknight when a gentleman was still making pasta at the bar. “This is fettuccine,” the owner said as he held up a batch of fresh noodles. We loved that it was empty and we had their attention to ourselves. In the busy New York restaurant scene this is rare unless of course the said place sucks. Continue reading
