Monday, July 20, 2009

8:30 PM Arizona Time

Currently, I am seated in row 6, seat C aboard a Jet Blue flight from JFK back to Phoenix. I am exhausted, elated, and completely sick of eating 2-3 large meals per day. It’s post foodie vacation hangover time to the maximum.

I read the book “Julie & Julia” a bit on the way to NYC but finished it while watching “Intervention” and “13 going on 30” on the super sweet Direct TV that Jet Blue offers at every seat. What a book. I feel like I missed out because I had not heard of it until a few months ago! I wish I had followed her blog for the year that she was cooking those recipes. Julie Powell is an inspiration and I look forward to seeing the movie on August 7.

Enough of my sentimental rantings—let’s talk about the rest of the food adventure that has come to a close.

I left off after our fine dinner at Daniel. The next day, Saturday we had originally planned to eat the Spice Market in the Meatpacking district. Upon the advice of our new foodie friends, Joe and Seena, we decided to try “Bar Modern” at the MoMA.

We were to meet my friend Sue (and blog contest winner from Facebook!) for lunch to reward her for her winning blog entry. Sue lives in Jersey and bused it over to hang out with a couple of wanna-be food critics.

Jay and I arrived early so we could suck down a few champagne-St. Germaine-Soda and lemon twist cocktails. Ok so, traffic was bad and Sue was a few minutes late. We each had 2 before lunch. And then we ordered one for Sue. Even after 5 tries and a failed attempt at sharing the proper proportions with the bartender, Modern was not the place to try that cocktail again.

We were seated in the restaurant that is quite beautiful I must admit. Very artsy. Very white. Very clean, very, garden-y. I dug it a lot.We embarked upon a very amusing three- hour lunch. We started out with the first course that was a small plate appetizer.

Sue had the upside down Tuna Tarte about which she remarked “It doesn’t make me want to stick my face in it, but it’s still pretty good.”

Jay tried the Flounder Tartare that he described as lemony but not overpowering. Nothing to get too enthused about however. The most interesting part of the tartare was the fact that the busser stuck his thumb into the middle of it when clearing the table. We had a good laugh about that for about 10 minutes afterwards. Bizarre.

I ordered the Lamb Terrine that was a nice blend of cheese, lamb and coarse black pepper put together in a delightful striped presentation. Nothing so good as striped food. Perhaps chef drew inspiration from the museum?

The first course passed without too much excitement. At this point, we had spoken to the GM and told him what we do for a living. (It’s amazing how service improves rapidly once the proverbial cat is out of the bag). He brought over a rabbit, saffron tagliatle. I would describe that as rich, salty and silky amazement. I was sad it ended after 2 bites. I am not a big fan of rabbit but would eat this dish again any time. (I think it’s because my husband calls me “Bunny.’)

Next, after a couple of wine screw-ups, was the main course. Sue had diver scallops that were spicy, tender and combined well with the pears and mandarin oranges that were served with it. Jay ordered quail (he’s a big fan of exotic birds) with chorizo and corn. He said it was better than Craftsteak in Las Vegas. I would take that as a huge compliment. I had salmon crusted with horseradish served on warm cabbage. It literally melted in my mouth. Correction, it practically melted on the fork en route to my mouth. One of the tastiest pieces of salmon I have ever eaten.

Needless to say, the main course far outdid the first course. I ordered a cappuccino and we all passed on dessert. It was a beautiful setting, but overall, I would be interested in trying the formal restaurant “Modern” for dinner sometime so I would feel $100/person is more worth the time invested in the experience.

We bid Sue goodbye (hopefully not for another 13 years) and headed back to the W in Times Square. I will not rehash the drama that ensued this weekend at that hotel but suffice it to say, the service and experience was less than par for the majority of the stay, until of course we spoke up. The GM and Manager of Guest Experience did a bang up job of apologizing and making sure the rest of our stay was above expectations.

That night we headed out to A Voce, an Italian restaurant I found while scouring the Internet for places to dine in NYC. We met up with Ed and Nicole (old friends of Jay from Arizona) and our Italian food experience ensued.

The menu at A Voce is separated into Antipasti, Primi and Secondi. We ordered Terrina di Polpo (thinly sliced octopus terrine with olive, citrus and oil) as well as Cassoncini con Proscuitto di Parma (swiss chard and crescenza cheese filled fried dough with prosciutto). The Polpo was a unique combination of flavors (though a bit heavy on the oil) and the pepper made the taste of the octopus really stand out. The Cassocini was fried crescent moons from the heavens. I greedily wrapped those babies in prosciutto and sighed with happy, salty and fried contentment.

For the main course, I decide on a very simple dish of spaghetti with San Marzano tomatoes and basil and of course a lot of Parmesan cheese. I was on French food, multi course overload. The homemade pasta was cooked well and complimented the other flavors well. Sometimes, it’s hard to beat a simple dish.

The others were more adventurous than I. Jay chose Duck Orrechiette, Ed had roasted dorade with clams over couscous and Nicole had halibut in “crazy water” with chickpeas.  We also decided we could NOT pass up the chickpea fritters. I would describe them as crispy hummus without overpowering garlic flavor. Ed said they were “like crack.” Anytime food is compared to highly addictive drugs, you know it’s got to be good!

Our friends really enjoyed their dinners—plates were completely cleared of food. I had another cappuccino (which is odd, since I never drink coffee at home) and we ordered custard filled, sugar covered Italian doughnuts that came with a side of bitter chocolate. They were divine pillows. Jay declined my offer of a doughnut for fear of staining his Prada shirt. Ok, maybe he was just too full.

We headed back to the hotel to sleep off the food coma that we had entered. I did not sleep well at all on Sunday night (I am going to blame it on an extra 2000 calories I consumed in a day) so I ended up sleeping until about 12 noon on Sunday. Luckily I woke and cancelled our brunch reservation (I can never just bail out on those things without calling!). By the time we got out into the world, we were starving!

We wandered the streets aimlessly, gobbled some decent sandwiches at an unknown bistro, and headed to meet Jay’s friend Walter for a few beers.

Over some drinks Jay and his friend caught up on family, friends etc. I was focused on our dinner plans. Cuban. I was excited to dine at a Cuban restaurant with 2 Puerto Ricans. Noting gives me more joy than to let people order food for me without any input. I love it. I told Jay that he could order anything on the menu and I would try it all!

We headed out to Son Cubano that is another restaurant I found online. It looked really authentic and interesting. I romanticized NYC on the cab ride down 9^th Ave. There’s just something about 9^th avenue. Especially into Chelsea and then the meatpacking district. So many incredible bars, shops, restaurants and eclectic people. On your next trip to NYC, I would suggest you walk it as far as possible until your feet bleed. It would be well worth it.

We arrived at Son Cubano around 8 PM and were seated at a 4 top that looked out onto the patio. I ordered a mojito (I mean really, is there any other option??) and settled in for the feast that was to ensue. Jay decided we should order off the tapitas menu and try lots of different plates. Here’s a list of what we tried:

Papitas Rellenas –breaded potato balls stuffed with ground beef and served with a light tomato sauce

Pulpo a Vinagreta–octopus with vinegar and pico de gallo type salsa

Camarones de Mojo -shrimp sautéed with a very spicy kick

Chorizo–homemade smoky sausage that puts Mexican chorizo to shame

Pastelitos—seasoned beef sandwiched between puff pastry

Empanadas de Pollo –crescent shaped dough that houses chicken goodness

Albondigas—meatballs in tomato sauce

Plantain Cups filled with lobster meat

Jay’s friend Walter is doing post Doc work at Columbia and we got into a very interesting conversation about the sense of taste. He introduced me to the word “umami” that is the savory taste receptor that we possess. I am going to find every possible way to use umami in a sentence during the next few weeks.

Whew. After all that food, conversation and culture I was a convert. Cuban food rocks my world. Here’s hoping life after Fidel yields open borders so we can all travel there to taste the richness Cuba has to offer.

I slept like a rock last night and dreamt of Cuban food and tattoos. Not sure what the tattoo thing is about but it’s making me want a full sleeve. I digress.

We decided to end our journey with a NYC institution. Balthazar in Soho. For French lunches, this place is renown. We arrived for our 12-noon reservation at 11:45 am and were informed we could not be seated until noon. This was a bit curious considering the plethora of empty tables and servers standing around tapping toes.  We decided to have some champagne at the bar.

We were seated at 12:01 on the nose and started our normal task of perusing the menu and people watching.

Our first server came over and asked for a drink and appetizer order. We never saw or heard from her again. We ordered the smoked salmon on brioche toast with capers, onions and egg. It was delicious. I consider myself somewhat of a smoked salmon aficionado.

We were completely ignored for about 10 minutes until I think the server who was handling a 10 top saw me taking photos and writing. The service improved minutely after that. We ordered our main course. I ordered the bar steak and was asked if I wanted it “rare or medium rare.” Hmm…. “medium?” I asked with some trepidation. That was responded to with an eye roll and some sort of snooty French noise.

While waiting for our lunches to be served, I made a few observations about Balthazar. 1) The trendy NYC lunch crowd has been almost entirely replaced by tourists with cameras dangling from their necks and wearing cargo shorts. 2) The stairs leading to the bathroom are so old, that I almost broke my neck while trying to navigate them. 3) The bathrooms smelled quite lovely. 4) The guys manhandling the bread with a hacksaw were interesting to observe. I doubted they washed their hands between bread slicing and every other task 5) Really, in 2009 a restaurant is trying to mandate how my steak is cooked? I think not. Random, I know.

Yet another server delivered our food and provided some beverage refills. My bar steak was done a bit more than medium, but it was a delicious and the béarnaise sauce complimented it quite nicely. My umami was in overdrive. Jay ordered the Riesling Chicken and it was served with some sort of corn puffs, mushrooms and pearl onions. He was jazzed that they left the skin on the chicken because it really sealed in the juices.

We ordered an apple tart tartin with vanilla ice cream. It was delicious. I had my 4th cappuccino of the trip. Not sure if I am starting a future trend or not, but they might help me kick the Red Bull addiction.

At this point the restaurant was at about 99% capacity. If you have ever been here you know that the booth seating is extremely close together and in fact, you can have the next table over leaning over onto your table quite easily. I became claustrophobic really fast and extremely hot. The room was spinning. I needed fresh air. We closed out and I practically sprinted to the door.

Balthazar. Interesting place. Really good food. Over wrought with tourists and far too snooty for it’s own good. I would return for a cocktail, but lunch is a waste of time and money.

We had a couple of meetings on Monday and then headed to JFK. The new terminal for Jet Blue is worthy of it’s own blog. Wow. We are tired. We had a blast. We are looking forward to our next culinary adventure. In the meantime, I am going to eat salad. Lots and lots of salad.

12:04 AM, Friday, July 17, 2009 (Arizona Time)

By Susie Timm

            In general, I am not a fan of red-eye flights. Anyway, anyhow or anywhere. However, when Jay proposed that we jet off to NYC on Jet Blue this weekend for a culinary extravaganza that dreams are made of—it was not very hard to convince me that the 11:46 departure arriving into JFK at 7:30 AM EST would be well worth it.

After all, I have taken this flight to NYC 3 times prior and have made it thru each time.

            My husband and I went to dinner at his boss’ house tonight and I made sure to have that extra glass of wine, to assure maximum sleeping potential. I was stocked with a couple of Tylenol PM and some “natural” anti-anxiety meds. I was so ready to chug those down with some ice cold water and drift off to dreamland for 5 hours.

            We arrived at Sky Harbor at 9:45 PM. Skipping merrily, we trotted over to the check-in counter, and were greeted by some friendly Jet Blue team members clad in a very flattering shade of blue. By this time, the drive here in 108 degrees combined with that one extra glass of wine were starting to make me a wee bit thirsty. We got our boarding passes and the desk agent informed us that we were in the same row, but both have middle seats.

“WHAT?!” I ask, mildly outraged. “I set up those seats online with Jay here on conference call on June 22! I did not pick row 13 and I certainly did not pick 2 middle seats!”

“Sorry, ma’am, the flight is fully sold out. If something changes, we will be sure to let you know,” the snappy blue dresser responded.

Jay uttered a noise something akin to a balloon that a tiny bit of helium had escaped from. (I may have mentioned a time or two before, that neither of us are fans of the word “no.”)

We sighed, and headed upstairs. By this time, I was really thirsty. I thought, “Well, I can surely by a bottle of water after we go thru security.”

Not really. Not at 10:15 PM on a Thursday. In the Sonoran Desert. In Terminal 3. At Sky Harbor Airport. In the 9^th Largest Metro area in the US of A..

Ok fine, I decided to read as a way to divert my attention from my dry throat. I opened up “Julie & Julia” and settled in. Meanwhile, Jay was furiously typing away on his laptop—surely to the CEO of Jet Blue or someone else who will make the situation correct. I am sorry for whomever’s head is lopped off…

Reading was fun, but I was so tired at this point (as I typically go to bed around 8:30 PM) that I laid back and drifted off. I woke up to discover our plane was delayed till 12:40 AM. Not quite an hour delay. Now I was as thirsty as I can recall being in recent history. I got up, went to the drinking fountain feverishly lapped up Phoenix’s finest aqua, desperate for some relief..

It had a wee impact on my raging thirst.  I rested my head on my laptop bag and Jay said he would  “be right back.” I awoke for a moment to gawk at an especially attractive pilot (Is this heaven? I wondered in my thirsty and delirious state?).

Jay appeared like a mirage in the desert. Holding a bag from Paradise Bakery and a bottle of water. (I had barely complained out loud to him by the way!)

 

 

 

“How did you DO THAT?” I demanded.

“I went outside security, bought water, dumped it out and refilled it on the other side.”

“Pure freaking genius you are Mr. Pizarro. Thank you oh water Savior of mine.”
I happily slurped most of it down. Jay ate his pasta salad. We are now seated outside our gate and about to board.

 

 

 

Middle seats. Sigh. But at least, I have an ingenious business partner who cares about my dehydration problems.

 

Friday, July 17 2:27 PM

Well, this morning has been filled with a multitude of adventures big and small. We made it thru the red-eye experience. Luckily, I was seated next to a couple that weighed about 120 lbs together and the wife offered to sit in the middle seat. I managed to get 3.5 hours of sleep on the plane.

We caught a cab into the city and the W Hotel in Times Square was nice enough to let us into our rooms early. Nap time! I felt much, much better after another hour and a half of rest and so we headed out to find something for lunch.

We were stuck by a sudden and unyielding urge to consume hot dogs from a street vendor. So, dirty water dogs it was. Pretty tasty if I do say so myself.

I had set up a private tour of the Fox News Channel studios (don’t hate please!) It was pretty spectacular to see some of the anchors and staffers live and in person. From there, we caught a cab to Soho to mentally prepare for our very important meeting…

Not sure if Jay feels the same way about the street cart lunch, but we are now settled in at the Cupping Room Café in Soho drinking wine and waiting for our 3 PM to start.

Dinner tonight is at Daniel. French. Beautiful. We cannot wait! More later!