I AM GOING TO GET STRAIGHT to the point. I usually include some backstory in these posts; today I am so eager to let you know how good the food I enjoyed recently, that I’m going to skip all that.

Almost all that. I will just recouont that I had just eaten not one but two burgers at new downtown mini-diner called Mikey’s Burger, and was walking my way back to the 6 train when I passed a restaurant called The Meatball Shop. I had made two previous attempts to eat there, both times being way too busy and requiring a long wait.

This time they had just opened for lunch, and knowing that I had just eatened,I figured this would be a good time as any to try out the generally well-received itmes off their menu.

The place is big, roomy, comfy, and cozily decorated, rare properties compared to all the other new, singularly-themed restaurants that have been popping up all over the East Village/Lower East Side seemingly every week.

Like those other restaurants, the Meatball Shop is a specialty restaurant, that, of course, being meatballs, made from proteins (beef, chicken, pork, and salmon) which they ground and prep in house—in their remarkably large, clean, and well-staffed kitchen—and offer with a variety of housemade sauces. I order a “flight” basically, of three meatball sliders—one beef topped with tomato sauce, one chicken topped with mushroom sauce, and one salmon topped with a parmesan cream sauce.

I’m usually better at editing the food photos, selecting my favorite few from a a bevy of options; but I want to do everything in my power to convince you—if not with scant words, then with delectable images—to run—not walk—to sample, nay, enjoy, nay, revel in the extreme sumptuous goodness that each of these little gems reward you with, bite by ever-better bite!

I try to usually avoid hyperbole, but it is unavoidable, for me at least, to not relay how tender and flavorful the meatballs were, each showcasing its protein’s flavor and texture qualities. The biggest surprise being the chicken which, in many ground versions that I have previously had, are either completely tasteless, or completely overcompensated by various herbs and spices. But here, it’s rendered replete with layers of poultry taste, while maintaining more all of the proper moisture and topped with a mushroom sauce that was even more than just an elevated version of condensed soup. The salmon meatball was properly seafood and, again surprisingly, kindly served by the mild aromatics of smooth, mellow, parmesan sauce. The mini buns, toasty and buttery, rounding out each orb as a miraculous little meal.

They offer sides as well; I opted for the risotto, a dish that, from a cook’s point of view, requires the most cooking skill of all the sides. I wanted to see if the folks in the kitchen were really this good.

Light, creamy, tasty, and “toothsome” (one of my favorite new culinary words!), the risotto offered a nice starchy compliment to the sliders, if not to my, at the time, confused waistline.

Confusing it more was my decision to let my very nice server convince me to try an ice cream sandwich. Lucky enough, I had a few other customers I volunteered to share it with. So we enjoyed a quarter each of caramel ice cream sandwiched on one side with a meringue and one the other, a chocolate cookie. Also outstanding, and by this point, I believe I was so overwhelmed by the greatness of this whole meal that I completely forgot that I had a camera and missed taking a picture of said ice cream sandwich.

But the weather is getting warmer, and as I look forward to bringing many friends to try the Meatball Shop out for themselves, I likewise look forward to have many future opportunities to make up for that slight oversight.

Bun Apple Tea!

.kac.

SPRINGING FROM THE MIND OF Michael Hyunh of all the “BAO” restaurants such as my favorably-reviewed Baoguette, I expected his official foray into the already crowded burger market to be of a entirely different ideology. A “Bao Burger”, if you will. And I took off downtown this to try some exotic fare.

A small little boite of a place—with a likewise streamlined menu—it had just opened when I arrived at exactly 12 noon. The cook was doing the “first fry” of some hand-cut, skin-on, shoestrings, allowing me to quickly peruse the chalkboard menu before ordering both a “Mikey’s” Burger (topped with corned beef hash and mustard) and a Satay Burger, made with lamb and topped with jalapeño and mint.

The flattop-griddled meat was very tasty and had perfect juiciness and texture, wisely only salted just before hitting the heat. On the Mikey, I got more texture from the corn beef hash than corned beef flavor, but the burger’s flavor more than made up for it. I erroneously assumed that the satay-style Lamb Burger would have some type of peanut sauce—although nowhere on their menu do they even remotely suggest that—but was very pleased with the bolder kicks of the jalapeño and sweet brightness on the mint, flavors for associated with the “Bao” man.

The burgers run around 5-6 bucks, as they also offer hot dogs, shakes, and chili or cheese fries. (They were unable to make me a sesame shake or a hot dog since they tend to run out of these items by Monday morning after the crazy popular business they get weekend nights being open until 4 a.m.)

I don’t keep those kinds of hours anymore, but it would almost be worth it for a burger with that many flavors.

Bun Apple Tea!

.kac.

I HAD LEFTOVER LINGUINI. AND GARLIC. And parmesan cheese. And anchovies. And scallions. So, for no cost, I made this.

Bun Apple Tea!

.kac.

OKAY, I CAN TAKE A HINT. A friend of mine of Facebook posted a picture of a lobster roll on her “wall” that looked scrumptious, and less that an hour later, a Flickr friend of mine posted a similar picture of a lobster roll she had just enjoyed in one of the many food related pools on Flickr.

They both happened to be from same place, Luke’s Lobster down on 7th Street. I took that as a reminder that I still had to try the place out. But when I got the weekly menu update from one of my website clients—a menu featuring a lobster ravioli lunch special—I felt impelled to wait no longer and make the quick trip downtown this afternoon on the 6 train and finally sample this signature dish for myself.

Arriving there by about 1 p.m., I did a speedy survey of the typical-for-this-neighborhood small space, perusing its menu, and capturing the decor and patrons with my camera.

Their menu offered a likewise small choice of options, although they are known to excel at all of them. Although tempted by these other choices—such as crab rolls and crab claws—I elected to dive into the initial inspiration for my visit, the lobster roll, which I ordered in the larger of two options,with a side of BBQ potato chips and a bottle of sarsaparilla soda.

I was first impressed with the impact of genuine Maine lobster flavor, even with it seeming to be minimally seasoned, though seasoned quite properly. The tail and claw meat chunks were firm yet tender, moist, and were well served by an evenly and lightly toasted bun, and an extra dash (after a few bites) of their “secret” seasoning, cutely contained in a lobster claw-shaped dispenser.

Making a meal of it, I enjoyed the sweet, crisp, punchy pickle,as well as the subtly-spiced, crunchy potato chips,and the smooth, cream soda flavor of the sarsaparilla soda.

I was worried that, for almost twenty bucks, that one simple roll might not fill me up; turns out I was wrong for doing so. They are not stingy with the lobster meat—enjoying several pieces at once with every bite—and, although usually enjoyed as a “specialty” meal, one usually reserved for spoiling oneself, I cold definitely understand why many of its customers admitted to me that they happily enjoy any of the menu items on a regular basis.

And considering that there are scant few other places that actually lobster rolls as well—and fewer still nearly as well—I couldn’t help but think that finding this place would save me the trouble of figuring out, from now on, where I could gladly sate my lobster roll “jones” in the near future.

I get it, and will look forward now to getting this lobster roll often!

Bun Apple Tea!

.kac.

DINERS IN NEW YORK CITY use to be the bastions of cheap, well-cooked food. Not so much anymore. And as every year I live on the Upper East Side passes, I am shocked by the amount I’m paying to have a ham & cheese omelet with toast and black & white shake delivered to me on hungover mornings, at times costing me over twenty bucks with tip.

So I became as relieved and curious as I was skeptical when a neighbor informed me of a hole-in-the-wall eatery called Burger One that served decent and cheap breakfast, as well as some well-reviewed burgers. She knew I’d be interested enough to want to give it a visit, and although we had planned to go there together for lunch today, having inexplicably woken up at 5 in the morning, I was too hungry by about 7:30 to not decide to preemptively sample some of their dishes at home.

I called and ordered the Corned Beef Hash & Eggs, and a Short Stack of pancakes, all of which arrived hot and within minutes.

Everything had great flavor—especially the corned beef hash, which possessed the requisite amount of crispy, fried edges—and all for about 4 dollars less than an equivalent order from Yorkville’s staple diner and my longtime go-to, The Viand. The portions were so more than adequate that I couldn’t even finish the whole meal, as I stored the remainder in the fridge and hoped I have saved enough room for lunch.

Collecting my neighbor for lunch a few hours later, I informed her that I had already tried breakfast and now looked forward to trying Burger One’s other fare. I have mentioned all of the little spaces that were serving exceptional food down on the Lower East Side; this space on Lexington between 79th and 80th was so inconspicuous it would have been too easy to walk past it were it not for this sign sticking several feet from the building under which it stood.

Gina was psyched to try the burger, having heard from a friend and reading the reviews of how good it was. That left the Mexican part of the menu for me, as I happily ordered the two soft tortilla tacos with rice and beans.

This is a small little miracle of a place—with one man working the grill, one on the fryer, one taking orders and packing to-go containers, and a young girl dealing with the money—producing stellar chow so efficiently and in a space one-third the size of my shoebox studio.

As Gina and I enjoyed our respective repasts at the counter—amount to less than 20 bucks including her soda and my chocolate egg cream—new customers started streaming in at a steady clip, seemingly regulars who each seemed to have a favorite—or several—from its large menu that offers hot and cold sandwiches, wraps, and entrées such as a Gyro Platter, Onion Steak, and Fried Chicken.

That kind of rabid loyalty, along with the food I got to enjoy myself today, may have made Burger One my first new go-to diner on the Upper East Side in about 15 years.

Sorry, Viand (and Big Nick’s, and Gracie’s…), you lose…!

Bun Apple Tea!

.kac.

IT JUST SO HAPPENED THAT I happened to be on the west side today, after joining the Facebook Fan Page for Gray’s Papaya yesterday, so I walked a few extra blocks to have its famous “Recession Special”, take some photos, and post them here on PHUDE.

Now having spent much of my formative youth going to grade/high school just a few blocks away—as well as having a very good friend who lived right off 72nd & Columbus—I have eaten here countless scores of times.

But having lived the last 24 years or so on the Upper East Side—and having the estimably equitable Papaya King just three blocks away from my place—it had been a while since I last stood in one of windows of Gray’s Papaya’s, a place so associated with New York City to have been plot-featured in both a Seinfeld episode and a Matthew Perry movie (and background-featured in hundreds more shows and movies), as well as honored on Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations television show.

I walk in and survey a place a little bigger and brighter than I last remember (which may have been in my early adult hood when I would hit this place on the way home from any variety of clubs or bars in the late a.m. hours of what was turning out to be the following day!), but I did remember what to order: two well done and a papaya.

Just as I remembered, drunk or sober! And, let’s face it, there are a number of “hot dog and papaya juice” iterations scattered around the city. But this was my first and my favorite for so long, that the nostalgia alone makes up for the slight interior changes, and the bizarre additions to the menu, such as bagels and donuts, which make it less of the “specialty” shop it built an almost global reputation on.

Lucky enough for Gray’s Papaya, someone made a Facebook Fan page for them, so other nostaligists can get decent sustenance on their memories as well….

Bun Apple Tea!

.kac.

SO THERE I WAS AT ARTICHOKE Pizza, feeling full and foolish that I had eaten not one but two delicious slices—one each of the popular Crab and their stellar, signature Artichoke—and disappointed that I had left little room for the sweet things at their sister dessert shoppe, Led Zeppole, next door. I had planned to enjoy the food from both, but since I overindulged on ‘za, I decided I would have to wait until my next visit to PHUDE blog about Led Zeppole’s pastries.

Led Zeppole was only located two short doors east of Artichoke, so I figured I would at least stop by and pick up some cream puffs (recommended by Brendan, my pizza server). Twelve quick steps and I was there.

The place was, like it’s sibling, decorated with various cutesy curiosities.

If you can’t decide which of the appetizing items on the chalkboard to order, Helen, my server this day, can be most helpful in assisting (and kind as well, as she let my try a most delicious Peanut Butter & Jell Ice, as I informed her that not only was in National Peanut Month, but National Peanut Butter Day as well!). Th display of the gorgeous pastries may make it difficult to select just one item, though.

I, against any doctor’s blessing, having had to oversized slices of pizza, decided not to order something to go, but to order a cream puff to enjoy there, having been told that they would fry the zeppole dough—and stuff it with their homemade sweet cream—to order. Sorry, docs, but I’m glad I made this call…!

Zeppole dough, with its perfect meausures of sugar and egg content, produce something aromatically, texturally, and palatably wonderful once it is deep fried. Th inside becomes nice, light and airy, while the outside develops an almost crunchy shell from the cooked sugar. The extra powdered sugar melts and glazes the dough when it comes in contact with the hot, not-too-oily exterior. The inside dough was not overly flavored by the sugar, just enough vanilla to let the flavors on the outside shine.

The cream (oh, boy!) almost pudding-like; sweet, rich, thick—but not heavy—creamy, tasty, a wining compliment to the fried dough, and a moist way to assist in swallowing bit mouthfuls of that cooked dough down one’s grateful gullet.

Suffice it to say, that was the last item I ate for the day, and it was only 2:30 in the afternoon. So I implore the owners of Led Zeppole, who also own the remarkable This Little Piggy Had Roast Beef and Artichoke Basilles Pizza, to consider making their next restaurant creation a sald place. If anyone could convince me to eat more veggies—and not just sandwiched between bread and pastrami—it would be you guys…!

Bun Apple Tea!

.kac.

THE LAST TIME I TOOK the 6 train downtown to 14th Street, it was in an attempt to get two PHUDE visits done in one trip. Making it more convenient would be the fact that the first place I was going to, This Little Piggy Had Roast Beef, was just opened by the owners of the second place, Artichoke Pizza.

Fortunately for my mouth but unfortunately for my plan, the “This Way” sandwich at This Little Piggy was so good, I wound up ordering another of the three only sandwiches they sell, their “The Other Way” Pastrami on Rye. By the time I got through half of that particular deliciousness, I could eat no more. I would save my visit to Artichoke for another day.

Well, that day was today, and I would likewise use the opportunity to hit the owners other dessert place, called Led Zeppole, that was only two doors away, and sample some of their sweet wares as well.

I had passed the front of Artichoke on many of the frequent occasions I’ve been traveling to this neighborhood to try out the new restaurants that seem to open there seemingly every week; I finally walked in and felt welcomed by the modestly small space.

The place was nicely decorated by cutesy chotchkes (sp?), such as a leg lamp, chandelier, our young, natty, downtown couple.

The menu, much like This Little Pig’s, was mindfully minimal, and the instantly likeable Brendan, who was my server, informed me that all of the only three iterations of their pizza—Margherita, the signature Artichoke, and Crab—were very popular. I had come for the oft-raved about and super popular Artichoke slice, and Brendan happily obliged.

This Artichoke slice has appeared on more than a few “best pizzas” list—including New York Magazine’s list of Best Bargains-Critics’ favorite cheap food—and I now know why. There is something quite special about this slice, and something so preternaturally perfect about matching this particular vegetable with this the food staple, that, in my opinion, it isn’t really fair to rate it with other pizzas. It’s like trying to discern what your favorite fish is (cod, monkfish, branzino?), then comparing it to lobster. Yes, it’s seafood, but a whole other animal (literally and figuratively). Sure, this is a slice of pizza, but it, too, is in a category all its own.

Speaking of seafood, I was so impressed with the slice that I took it upon myself to order the Crab slice to not only divine whether or not this shoppe had just the one trick up its sleeve, but to sate culinary lust for all foods nautical.

Another delight, with great crab bites and flavors, another thin, crispy crust, and a smooth creamy sauce subtly reminiscent of a fine bisque.

It was a little after 2 p.m. and the place gets crowded pretty quickly with just a handful of customers, as it did as I finished my second slice and worried that I had, again, cut my eating agenda short, having left scant room in my tummy for zeppoles of any kind (or the Brendan-recommended cream puffs that Led Zeppole seems to also be famous for).

I had out-eaten myself again, but regretted little having enjoyed doing so. Maybe I’ll just drop by Led Zeppole and pick up a little sumpn’-sumpn’ to take home….

Bun Apple Tea!

.kac.

“IF AT FIRST YOU DON’T SUCCEED….” So, there I was in Central Park, taking pictures of the beautiful snowfall (not so beautiful outside the park!) possibly still a little drunk from the night before, thinking about how the week’s weather had kept me from going all the way downtown and checking out new hotspot, The Meatball Shoppe.

So, having meatballs on the brain all week (an unfortunate turn of phrase, to say the least), I decided I would make my own for dinner, but switch it up by doing a Linguini with Clam Sauce version of it.

So, later that evening—after napping through my hangover—I opened three cans of chopped clams, manually mixed them in a large bowl with minced garlic, oregano, basil, salt, pepper, paprika, chili powder, bread crumbs, parmesan cheese, and an egg, formed them into balls and began sautéing them in an oven-ready skillet to give them some initial color, then placed them in the over to finish.

I prepared half a box of linguine as instructed and strained them, meanwhile sautéing a two chopped anchovy filets in olive oil, then adding clam juice, lemon juice, and butter to make a nice sauce to then toss the linguini in, and then plate, placing a couple meatballs on top and spooning the remaining sauce on top.

I can be honest with my own cooking, always imagining I eat some else’s food for the first time. Honestly, all the right tastes were there, very reminiscent of a traditional Linguine with Clam Sauce flavors. Nice al dente pasta, great light-but-rich flavors of clam, garlic, herbs and lemon. The clamballs showcasing familiar big chunks of chopped clams, retaining most of their bite, texture, and “oceana”.

The one issue, major enough to almost ruin the dish, was that the meatballs wound up being dry. Not too dry, but they were not properly served by the drizzle of pan sauce on top of them.

It reminded me that regular meatballs made with any variety of ground meats that have natural fat content, and render meatballs with a large percentage of their moisture. These clamballs did not have that advantage, and made it feel like I was eating two wholly separate dishes. Maybe next time I mix in some chopped bacon and braise them in the sauce before adding to the dish. The idea was a success; it’s execution, not so much.

Fortunately, this morning I woke up with a much clearer head, and having some plain, cooked linguini leftover, some anchovies as well, and some scallions, I decided to make a breakfast dish with those ingredients!

I doubt pasta for breakfast is a new thing, but it’s not common, and for the life of me, I’ve never figured out why that was. (Don’t you remember your 6th grade health teacher informing how a slice of pizza was a better, healthier breakfast than pancakes or a donut?)

I, again, sautéed a couple anchovies in olive oil, then added some thinly sliced scallions and butter, tossed in the leftover pasta, and stirred it over the heat for about 2 minutes, finishing with parmesan cheese. I topped it with a sunny side up egg—dusted with paprika—and topped the whole dish with fresh cracked pepper and more parmesan.

Success at last! This time the flavors and texture were perfect, with the al dente pasta soaking up the layered flavors of the savory, herbal olive oil, creamy butter, sharp, salty anchovy, and sweet scallions. Once sliced into, the warm, “oozy” egg yolk, made a perfect sauce to pull all of the elements of the dish together.

Old school carbonara used to be finished with a raw egg placed on top of the hot pasta and cream sauce, and get stirred in to thicken. The yolk kind of had the same effect, and the dish overall was such a success—to me, at least—that it is officially going into my “repertoire”.

Bun Apple Tea!

.kac.

SOMETIMES YOU JUST HAVE TO give in. Or give up. Or both.

I had my heart set today on going downtown to Artichoke Pizza on East 14th Street, but the weather insisted on getting colder and snowier and windier and I as I waited for a bus that must still have been in Maine, I decided giving up at least two hours in bad weather mass transmit commute for a slice of pizza, no matter how exceptional, wasn’t a best use of my effort or time.

As I started to walk back to my apartment, losing body temperature by the minute, I thought of what I could possibly eat that would take the chill off. Something spicy would do. Thai food! Yes, and I had a neighborhood favorite—from which I had ordered delivery from several times over the last few years—called Land.

I had been saving Land for a PHUDE blog I would enjoy with a friend who I’ve been promising to take there; again, I had to submit to the convenience on only being a block away from some yummy, warming food, and still being able to do a PHUDE post. I had walked by the place several times, so walking in for the first time, I was surprised that the space was roomier than it looked from outside, and far better designed as I had thought as well.

They have a great lunch special, which consists of two courses—a starter and a main—from the main menu. Since I was in the mood for something spicy, with lots of flavor, I ordered the Laab Chicken Wraps appetizer, which is made of minced chicken, tomato, mint, dried chili, and raw long bean in a lettuce cup.

This is a favorite of mine, with so may tastes—spicy, sweet, savory, acid—and textures, the only disappoint was the name of the dish, which fraudulently suggests that I would get to enjoy more than one! I can concede that point as well since I do appreciate the modest yet filling proportions, especially when it tastes sooo good.

For my main I ordered the Wok Basil with Beef*** (the stars, out of four, signifying the level of heat), with long beans, red pepper, chili-garlic paste—yay!—thai basil, and a side of jasmin rice. The kitchen here is so quick, it came out before I had the last two bites of my chicken lettuce wrap.

This dish has all the flavor components you hear me write about often; it was savory, sweet, spicy, acidic. The beef was tender and held the sauce very well. The long beans had great “snap”, and the garlic chili made for some nice aromas not just from the plate, but from the back of the tongue as well with each mouthful.

The sauce’s spice, thankfully, not a wimpy Northeast American hot, but an authentic Thai hot, which started slow but grew exponentially, to the point where just halfway through the meal I had guzzled my ginger ale, sucked on a few ice cubes, had my water refilled twice, and had stolen the napkin from the neighboring table to blot the sweat from my forehead.

I almost caved into dessert as well, which I’ve never had from here. And although I enjoyed the great service and attention from my pretty waitress and even prettier hostess (who interested me more by showcasing a likewise passion for photography by taking pictures of the snow outside), and could have enjoyed a palate-cleansing bite or two of something sweet, I answered a client’s text durung my meal and had to agree to meet him a just a few minutes.

So, again, my hands were tied, but not before I thanked the nice ladies who served me and took one last photo….

Bun Apple Tea!

.kac.