Brunch c/o Kittery

Saturday was spent by me working, working, working while L. and Fat T. went out into the greater world to look at a house upstate. Eventually they returned and our evening began. I didn't really take any good photographs of food I ate that evening, but the highlights included my having a separate trip to see S. and T. from ye olde high school days before meeting back up with L. and Fat T. for a pig roast party. Hijinks ensued and the evening went late. The next morning I had to do more work and L. and Fat T. met up with E. and K. to look at apartments in Brooklyn. Eventually our schedules dovetailed through brunch at Kittery. I ordered a virgin bloody mary and enjoyed it.

And the fried clam roll, which was buttery to an extreme. The coleslaw that accompanied it wasn't so interesting, but the chips were decent.

Fried Chicken Buns and Lamb Ramen c/o Dassara, Plus Darts

During our super busy season my job overwhelms my waking and sleeping life (oh the stress dreams) and makes it so that most all evenings are spent at home, alone, lying down with zombie eyes and preserving energy for the next day. I don't really mind how crazy it can be because I do enjoy some generous vacation days in exchange for my hard work, but work/life balance during these times is a pretty much foreign concept. So lying down and staying in was  pretty much what I planned on doing a Friday a few weeks back when I received a text from L. suggesting I come up to Brooklyn for her friend's annual big pig party the next evening. I think I surprised both of us by taking her up on that suggestion. I finished work later than usual and then packed myself up and hit the road, making pretty good time on the whole, though getting off the NJ Thruway and towards the Goethals and Verrazano bridges was especially stupid. Once I arrived I got loopy from the socialization of L. and Fat T. It had probably been far too many days since I had had any lengthy conversation with anyone about anything other than work. Though, of course, I also talked about work because when it's the only thing you really have going on, then it's really the only thing to talk about. In any case, after some much needed laughter and fellowship, L. and I went out into the world to have dinner while Fat T. stayed home because he is a party pooper and hates dinner. L. and I, on the other hand, love parties and dinner. So out to Dassara we went. It was a little on the late side, so we were pretty much the only folks eating, though there were a few people sitting at the bar. The lighting in the main dining room was challenging in a similar neon-like way to Morimoto, though I feel like I did a slightly better job dealing with it in this instance. We started by splitting the fried chicken buns, which I found to my liking. The soft and pliant buns made a nice contrast to the crispy chicken bit and slight saltiness of the pickle.

Dassara isn't a 'traditional' ramen spot like Ipuddo but its variations on the traditional ramen set up were definitely interesting. I ultimately found myself most drawn to the lamb ramen with braised lamb belly, market greens and a soft-poached egg. The thing I usually like about ramen is that the noodles have a little more 'toothiness' to them...Japanese al dente if you will. While I enjoyed the broth of the dish well enough, I will say that I found the noodles themselves not to have that especially good resiliency. They were a wee bit too soft and mushy for my taste. I feel like L. had a similar feeling about her noodles as well. So the conclusion I had was that the buns were good, the broth was good, but the noodles weren't very exciting.

After dinner I suggested/requested that we seek out a dart board and play darts with some strangers. And that is just what we did. Here you will see L. properly celebrating the double bull she threw that won us a game.

Good times.

Birthday Dinner for Fatty c/o Congee Village

So I went on a vacation a bit ago and the planning of it was not without its iterations. The final plan resulted in my deciding to fly out of JFK Airport in NYC because it would be a direct flight to Nassau at a better price and time. This led to my asking L. if I could stay with her and Fatty the night before my trip, as the flight was at 7 AM. She said yes and the plan was good. Then as we got closer to the date in question, it turned out that they were going to celebrate Fatty's birthday that Friday. Celebrations would include dinner out and then a musical show. I was all in for the dinner, but less so for the concert, as it would keep me out far later than I would think prudent for a needed 5 AM airport arrival time. So I stuck with dinner, which was at Congee Village on Allen Street. I think we turned out to be a table of 10 with a variety of tastes and eating restrictions. At least one glutard and one vegan if I recall correctly. We ordered a nice variety of dishes.  SP ordered a whole roasted chicken that was all chopped up and marvelously garlicky and tender. I ordered a tofu in soy sauce dish and a thick noodle dish. Greens were well represented as well.

Scallion pancakes, no doubt.

A plate with greens, chicken, noodles and fried rice.

After dinner this group headed off into the night towards music while I made my way back to Brooklyn with the intention of making sure everything was ready for the trip, a bit of blogging and an early bed time. I ended up dealing with the pre-travel awakes for much of the night, but I think it was still good that I didn't go out. At least when the cab picked me up at 4 something in the morning I wasn't groggy or hungover. Glad that I was able to celebrate Fatty's big day a bit early. This was definitely a good last experience in the States before my Caribbean vacation.

Brunch c/o Char No. 4

The morning after L.'s birthday night found me once again awake hours before any reasonable person might choose to be conscious after such an epic evening. This was good, as I was able to briefly touch base - and enjoy a coffee - with LM. I then went back to L. and Fat T.'s apartment to regroup, which led to L. and I going on what became a rather extended search for brunch. In the end we went to Char No. 4. I wasn't all that interested in alcohol, but a virgin bloody mary with housemade pickle sounded like a very good idea...and it was.

For my meal I went with their version of eggs Benedict, which replaces the Hollandaise sauce with gravy, and the English muffins with a serious chunk o' biscuit. The eggs were perfectly cooked. The yolks oozed but the whites were firm. Frankly I think I would have dug the more routine Hollaindaise over the gravy, but all in all, tasty stuff.

Later in the day L. and I met up with AS and braved quite the crowded craft fair in Williamsburg. The view of Manhattan and overall lighting of the area was spectacular.

Customized Bagel c/o Shelsky's Smoked Fish

As often happens when I visit L. and Fat T. (though didn't on Saturday morning), I woke up a bit earlier than my host and hostess on Sunday. So I determined that that Sunday was going to be the day that I finally checked out Shelsky's Smoked Fish. They're not too far from L. and T.'s abode and in my multiple visits over the last year, I always found the storefront looking welcoming, and more often than not there were at least a few folks sitting on the bench outside digging into some pretty good looking grub. Because I am a crazy obsessive food person who takes pleasure in reading menus on the internet, I already had a game plan about what I'd like to eat upon my arrival. And oh what a game plan it was.  I could have just chosen a bagel and a house made cream cheese, but they also had these more designer sandwiches. I was taken with the majority of the ingredients of ''The Tribute,' which were Horseradish Cream Cheese, Smoked Whitefish Salad, and Wasabi Tobiko. Well, I think it was mainly the addition of wasabi tobiko on a sandwich that really got me going. But I wasn't as interested in the smoked whitefish element. Once I got to the establishment I took advantage of the make-it-yourself iced coffee station and stood in line, waiting for my moment to specialize this already promising sandwich. And here is what I asked for: 'The Tribute' on a toasted everything bagel, but hold the whitefish salad and add the David Burke Pastrami Salmon. The look the dude taking my order gave me was absolutely one of skepticism. I felt a little sheepish but I held fast in the face of his amused incredulity and doubt.

After a bit more of a wait (it was pretty crowded but understandably so for a Sunday morning) the same man who took my order called my name and rang me up. This was certainly not a bargain bagel as far as cost. He basically chuckled at me as he ran up the order. He really seemed totally flummoxed about the one change I made. As I was leaving he said that I should let them know how it was...and that if it was any good maybe they'd name a sandwich after me. Which leads me to penning this quick note:

Dear Dude at Shelsky's,
I thoroughly enjoyed the bagel. The pop and bit of of heat of the tobiko worked quite well with the savory quality of the salmon. One final customization I would probably make would be to replace the horseradish cream cheese with scallion cream cheese. If you would like to name that sandwich after me I would be forever pleased, as I have long wanted something, anything, to be named after me.

Because here's the thing folks. It was a really tasty combination. I did feel like I would have preferred a bit of scallion over the horseradish, but even so I was not complaining. I ate the first half at L. and Fat T.'s dining room table and saved the other half for my Philadelphia return. Bagels don't usually hold up all that well on drives/eat delay, but I must say the second half was just as happy-making. Perhaps moreso because it felt like a rarity due to the distance between where it was made and where it was ultimately consumed.

There were definitely other things I wanted to try out at Shelsky's and I look forward to getting back there during my next BK sojourn.

Watermelon Party

The rest of our day was spent mainly lying down, listening/playing music, sitting in grass and watching people play kick ball (including my new fake boyfriend whose name I don't know/with whom I did not in any way actually interact), and having a nice dinner at L. and T.'s. The dinner was quinoa and mahi mahi in a pineapple pepper sauce. I was a jerk and totally forgot to photograph it, so busy was I consuming it. After all those activities we piled into L. and T.'s friend's car an drove to S.'s party, where there a number of cheeses and nice cured salami to much on. Not to mention vodka soaked watermelon.

I spent the majority of the party on their back deck talking to an ever-rotating set of folks, some known, some unknown. For example, I knew E. already. So we talked about things and had our photo taken.

And then we got L. in on the photo action and I made this face. Sad thing is someone hit the back of my head as this photograph was taken, so now my face looks like that all the time. Question: would you be my friend if I looked like that all the time? Because I do.

The birthday boy and the watermelon eater.

It was a good party. I enjoyed meeting one half of the couple who now lives above L. and T. I also commended L. on her choice of bridesmaids, especially the above E., whom I didn't know before the bachelorette weekend and wedding, but whom I now enjoy seeing at events ranging from those featuring  pigoatoysters to surreal parties in Manhattan. That sentence was terribly constructed, the point is that it's always nice to see E. So good times all around. Another late evening, but a fun one.

Chicken Sandwich c/o Van Horn Sandwich Shop

More than a year ago L. and I had hoped to try the fried chicken at Van Horn Sandwich Shop. Unfortunately on the day we actually made our attempt, the place was still remarkably new and the line for such an experience too long for our taste. Instead we went elsewhere and ran into a former college classmate of ours. This problem of waiting was less in force when we decided to give it another go on Saturday morning. It may have been at least in part because we got out at a decent hour before too many others had brunch on the brain. We chose to sit outside in their back patio area, which was sparsely populated at the time and cooler than inside. L. chose to have an iced coffee. We both marveled at the beauty of cream making its way through ice and java.

While I wasn't in terribly bad shape for having had a number of beers the night before, I didn't feel that I needed to start my day with alcohol but still wanted to try their Bloody Mary, so I requested a virginal variety. It was pretty darn good. Properly cloudy with fresh horseradish and complete with an olive and caper berries.

I chose to try the fried chicken sandwich, which included 'zesty coleslaw' and a pickle, as well as a little side salad to boot.

I must say this was a very well executed sandwich on the whole. The chicken, especially, was quite succulent. I could have perhaps enjoyed just a little thicker and crispier batter and a slaw with just a little more zip or zest. But these are minor desires; I ate almost the whole thing and what I didn't eat L. finished for me. L. had the omelet of the day I believe, which included gruyere and asparagus if I recall correctly.

A solid way to start the day.

Beer Times with Old Friends c/o The Bell House

I got in touch with T. and S. and J. and C. a few days before my arrival in Brooklyn to see whether there might be an opportunity to see one or all of them. S. and T. are long-time pals from my high school days while C. and J. entered the fray during T.'s time in college. They are a great group of people and I really enjoy seeing them when I can. So after dinner L. and I got back on the subway. She went home while I made my way to the Bell House, a place I had gone once before for a 90s themed prom. Good times were had. Photographs were taken.

Some photographs more successful than others.

I have no idea what's going on here as far as our faces are concerned, but I am definitely amused. I've known these dudes for 17 years. Ugh. That officially makes us all old. Or maybe I should only speak for myself, the youngest of the bunch:)

Yup. Good times. I owe C. money for the car I ended up taking back to L. and T.'s digs. It's a fact.

Dinner c/o Diner

So my trip up to Brooklyn coincided with L. and Fat T.'s good friend S.'s birthday/birthday weekend. L. insisted that S. wouldn't mind too terribly if I joined in on some of his birthday activities, and so I did. The first activity (of only two, it's not like it was a completely birthday-centric weekend) was dinner at Diner. I had read about this place via The Girl Who Eats Everything and was glad to finally have the opportunity to actually try some of their dishes. L. and I were a bit late (Fatty sat out the dinner); S. and his three friends already had beers and were sitting at stools along the old-school diner counter when we arrived. Soon after our arrival we all squeezed into a corner booth. Then our server came for drink orders. I believe I had a Troeg's Summer Ale. Diner has a rotating menu and doesn't bother printing it out. Instead, the waitress took a pen to the brown paper that covered our table, and began to outline our options course by course. There were a lot of options. I chose the salad with fried poached egg, radish and red onion

This fried poached egg was a thing of wonder. It reminded me a bit of an egg I once had at Bolete. Crisp on the outside, firm white in the next ring, but still a center featuring a nice oozy yolk, the color of which (to me) would suggest that it truly was an egg that came from a happy chicken. Ever notice that unhappy chicken egg yolks are too yellow? While happy chicken eggs have this really lovely orange glow to them? I have. In any case. It was a delightful salad.

L. enjoyed a cold soup with ingredients that included watercress and an oyster and, according to the b-day boy, "her face." But I think that last ingredient is not technically a true statement. Though the exact composition of the soup is a mystery (in part because of our memories and in part because of the rotating menu that makes it impossible to look it up) I know L. enjoyed it very much. From the slurp I was graciously allowed, I would also say that it was pretty tasty.

There were a number of special small plates to choose from. Including a pasta, which I chose. Tagliatelle pasta I believe, clearly fresh. I think the other main ingredient, other than a healthy dusting of cheese, was lamb...or was it chorizo? It's hard to remember and I didn't take notes for fear of elbowing either L. or S.'s friend in the process. In any case, the dish was well executed and lovely to look at. And maybe also had an egg?

Others enjoyed the burger, fish, and pork. There had been and 2 pound steak for $98 that none of us went for, though it could probably have served as a meal for all of us. We also all shared a bit of dessert, a basil custard/tart type thing with raspberry coulis. Inventive and refreshing, that was.

Welcome Pickles and Beer c/o Gowanus Yacht Club

I returned from my journey south and did the regular 9-5 thing for the next few days, but came into work early that following Friday in order to leave reasonably early. I hoped that I could make a jump on traffic for my drive to Brooklyn to visit with the likes of L. and Fat T. but that didn't go quite as planned. Just as I was about to get on to 95, traffic totally stalled and I counted at least 10 cop cars and a few ambulances driving on the highway overpass above, which suggested a pretty massive accident that would probably make my getting to the NJ Turnpike the 'back way' unfeasible. So I ended up going south and then across the Franklin Bridge....uh I was about to outline every step of my drive, but no one needs that. The point is that between an accident on 95, stupid crazy traffic on the turnpike and then again on 78, my estimated arrival time of 3 was off by a good hour and a half.  L. was still at work but my thoughts of having lunch before meeting up with her didn't make quite as much sense, as we had dinner plans for which I wanted a full appetite. So I took up residence at Gowanus Yacht Club to await her arrival back to the 'hood. I asked for a kolsch and a side of pickles and enjoyed both while reading the fifth Game of Thrones book (at this moment I am 78% done with it and I both want to read it super fast and super slow because I want to know what happens, but I also know there isn't another book to satiate all the unanswered questions I have no doubt will arise in the concluding chapters). The pickles were good. Not too sweet or mushy. Definitely rather freshly brined with a good crunch. And who doesn't love a kolsch? The crowd at 4:30 was relatively non-existent, just a few tables of tatooed white people with sunglasses, slouchy skirts and plaid shirts. I almost fit in, except for the lack of tattoos.

Fried Chicken Sandwich c/o Smith Canteen

On Saturday we all slept in. Eventually L., J. and I went to Smith Canteen for breakfast-like foodstuffs. In fact, we were particularly motivated to get ourselves egg sandwiches of some kind. Unfortunately the canteen stops with the breakfast at 11, and it was noon. So we all had to recaliber our hunger to meet the place's menu. I ordered a latte.
And a fried chicken sandwich. We sat at a nearby park while enjoying the sun and warmer weather. The sandwich was pretty good, though I kept thinking that it was just a fancy version of a McChicken sandwich. Like, really, it tasted really good but in that same Mcway. Mmmmmm.
After breakfast/lunch (not brunch really), J. went her own way and I gathered my stuff before getting on the road. A whirlwind New York trip that took less than 24 hours to complete. Crazy. Happy birthday to L!

Big 30 for L. c/o Southpaw and Union Hall

Last week L. turned the big 3-0. At the last moment she and Fat T. decided to have a party to celebrate that fact. So I made some rearrangements to my ever-so-overbrimming social calendar in order to drive up there Friday night and join in. The plan was to go to Southpaw and enjoy the musical stylings of PitchBlak Brass Band. I arrived in Brooklyn just in time to hoof it over to the venue with L., Fat T., N. and J. Soon after our arrival, C.S. joined us. Don't believe me? Look, there she is.
The music was good. So many people playing brass instruments. There was a female sax soloist, certainly channeling Rob Lowe's character in St. Elmo's Fire as far as putting a little sexy into it. I kept trying to figure out how this group found one another. I imagined they had all been kids in band during their youth, but that most of them had real lives and jobs, keeping their love of brass in a nearby closet or something. And then lo, one day, they found each other and a super brass band was formed. Or who knows. Brass shining and reflecting.
I tried their beer and a shot deal, as did CS. Little Kings is a weird beer that I did not particularly care for.
L. at one point foisted a Red Bull in my hand, which was no better than the Little Kings. My face tells the story of how I felt about both.
J., L. and C.
A triple high five moment outside.
Dunno what this is about, but it's happening.
Squeeeze.
This photograph astounds me. It looks like C. is having an awful time and half of L.'s face went and had a stroke. I don't believe it's accurate to either lady, but the result is interesting.
Fat T. looking more chipper than I believe he was. Curmudge-a-grump.

I didn't even really try to take good photos of the band. My track record of getting worthwhile shots of live music is just awful and I chose not to get frustrated.
C. left, but not before she lost her phone. Once the music was over we then went on to Union Hall, where I would lose my wallet then find it ... minus $40.
A fun, if truly debaucherous night. L. has a few more photos that I felt were stellar, but I don't have them. So there's that. A great big thank you goes to J. for taking on the task of keeping an eye on L. and me at the end of the night.