Apple Juice Living

Northern Spy Food Co. - A Review

In order to break up the monotony of our work week, C. and I decided to go out to dinner at Northern Spy Food Co. in the East Village. C. was really keen on going because the restaurant’s mission is to provide cuisine that is seasonal and locally grown, and I was interested because I was just plain hungry. I actually had dined at Northern Spy Food Co. before and really enjoyed the food that I could see it becoming a staple restaurant in my dining repertoire. We started off with the pork meatballs which were so good, that I exclaimed “They taste just like my Grandmother’s!” (referencing the Italian cooking my Grandmother would spoil me with).

C. ordered the Hudson Valley Pork with spaetzle and I got the daily special of homemade fettucine with fresh vegetables. All really yummy. I’m not the type of diner that I order dessert immediately after a delicious meal, but my last dessert experience at this restaurant eating their flourless chocolate cake was so good, I had to give dessert another try. So I order the chocolate mousee with peanut brittle and whipped cream……SO WORTH IT.

One minor criticism of the restaurant — it is small, the tables are quite cramped, and you do get the sense that they don’t like lingering diners because they want a quick turnaround on the tables. However, I’m willing to ignore this because the food is that good. Give it a go!

Beauty and Essex - A review

Last night, I had some old friends visiting who live outside of NYC. In an effort to ensure they had a great time, we spent the night showing them why the LES is the Best!!! (Insert cheerleader cheer). We started off having dinner at the Essex Restaurant, a decent staple restaurant for cocktails, good atmosphere and group dining. Right before I entered the restaurant, I had passed by Beauty and Essex and was shocked/excited at the prospect of a new nightlife spot in my neighborhood. Since there were two other fellow Lower East Sider’s in my company, we all made the decision to check out this spot. The outside decor is truly intriguing with the hanging guitars on the walls, the retro yellow neon lights, and random pawn shop ornaments.

We casually strolled up to the door where we were met by a large bouncer and a short girl with an iPad. I naturally started to pull out my ID, but rather than checking it, I was asked if we had reservations.

“No, we just wanted to have some drinks at the bar.”

“We’re at capacity, so please stand in line. We can let you in momentarily.”

Whatever. I was totally fine with that because my curiousness about inside was at its peak, and the girl was nice enough about it. After ten minutes of watching people lie, schoomze and bullshit their way inside (if I had a cocktail and a heater to keep me warm, that was entertainment enough for me), we were finally allowed in. The inner door was opened which opened up to……….

A WORLD OF SNOTTY ASSHOLES.

I am not insecure in my looks, my life, my job, my lifestyle, my hair, my outfits, nothing. But when that door opened, and I walked in, every head turned my way, and the looks on everyone’s face was “Who let the poor people in?”. I swear!!!! It was really funny to me. The decor is great, it really is. A mix of art deco meets Scarface. If piles of cocaine were laid out openly on the tables, I wouldn’t bat an eye because it would’ve fit in perfectly with the crowd and energy.

My friends and I walked in, did a tour, and ultimately decided it wasn’t the kind of vibe we were looking for, so proceeded to leave. During the slow-moving, single file walk to the exit, I was called a bitch because I refused to move when a woman shoved me to move past rather than say excuse me.

This probably isn’t a fair review because I did not receive any of the food or cocktail services offered at this establishment, but I believe it says a lot if I couldn’t even get past the clientele to even consider to have a drink.

Beauty and Essex….get out of my hood. We don’t want your kind ‘round here.

DBGB

As part of my dinner club, this month we decided to check out the scene at DBGB on Bowery. Reservations are a must at this restaurant because even at 8:15pm, it was over-wrought with models and other types of scenesters. We had made a reservation for a table of 5, which did not put us in one of the much-coveted side booths (those are for parties of 6-8…I asked), and had one of us sit at the end of the table where all the waiters were running by.

I had done some menu and review research to see what was an absolute must to order, and it was definitely the sauages. After deciding on our cocktails (which our waitress came over, in a hurry by the way, 3 times), we shared three plates of sauages, Spicy chorizo with peppers (spicy, juicy, very tasty), Cheese-filled sausage with polenta (blah), and the Thai sausage with bean sprouts and rice (tasted exactly like Thai food). Everyone at my table order the various types of burgers with fries, and I chose to go with the mussels in white wine broth with croutons and chorizo, and a side of green and white asparagus. Not only was an order of beer forgotten at our table, but my side of asparagus never showed up. The mussels were good, but generic tasting, Nothing to really write home about.

We concluded our meal with some sort of chocolate ice cream with whipped cream (yummy!) and a rasberry ice cream concoction (super tart and sugary).

I enjoyed the food, even though it wasn’t sensory-blowing, and would have much preferred it if there was less of a hectic frenzy occuring around us. But that is what a hip, new downtown restaurant invites.

One fun sidenote…Marky Ramone sat at the table next to us (perhaps pushing his Marky Ramone Pasta Sauce), and Jennifer Connelly was in line for the bathroom with me.

A Night in DUMBO

I have spring fever. Once 6pm rolls around, I want to run out of my office, jump on my bike, and head somewhere new where I can get a cocktail, yummy food and people watch. Sometimes I want to head to the West Village, sometimes I want to stay in my hood, but yesterday I wanted to head to BROOKLYN. (I’ve come far from my Hunter College days when I was filled with Manhattan snobbiness.)

C. was inspired by my idea and suggested we ride down to DUMBO. I said yes immediately because the last time I was in DUMBO was in October for a Halloween party. I regretted the quickness of my answer when we arrived on our bikes at the Manhattan Bridge because C. was not aware of my fear of heights. I slowly peddled onto the bridge bike path (which is super bike-friendly which I didn’t appreciate until the whole experience was over) and started a mantra in my head of “Look ahead. Don’t look at the water. Pedal faster. Don’t look at the water.” With all the bike-riding I’ve been doing lately, my thigh muscles became cement about a 1/4 way up the bridge and pedaling was a struggle. Once I reached the crest of the bridge and passed a pot-smoking cyclist, it was all downhill at 80mph with my heart in my throat due to fear and adrenaline. By the time we rode into DUMBO, I was in a bad mood and hated everything and anything Brooklyn. It’s amazing how quickly facing a fear will put you in a bad mood.

We rode through the 4 blocks that makes up DUMBO and attempted to go to Grimaldi’s, but the line was ridiculously long. Someone should’ve warned me it is a supersmall neighborhood (Jerry Seinfeld once referred to DUMBO on a late-night talk show appearance, joking that it stands for “Down Under Manhattan Bridge,” but that New Yorkers arbitrarily added the “O” at the end because they didn’t want to have a neighborhood called “DUMB.”….which was exactly how I was feeling after my nervewrecking bridge ride).

After some discussion, we decided on eating at reBar. The entrance didn’t seem too enticing, in fact, it kind of reminded me of a bowling lanes entrance (I have a wild imagination). We headed up the stairs which opened up into mystical wooden forest with tables, chandeliers, art and a long bar. Our waitress was super-friendly and explained that the building used to be a tea factory. Their beer list is PHENOMENAL (you can get everything it seems) and their reBar Red Ale is pretty delicious. We each ordered a beer and some marinated olives while we pondered over the menu which is full of small plates and seasonal entrees. C. decided on the burger with cheese, onions, pickles, tomatoes with a side of the most amazing fries I’ve ever eaten. I ordered the pulled pork sandwich (24 hour cured, seven hour slow roasted Smithfield pork, house made BBQ sauce, artisan potato bun) with a side of mango apple fennel slaw and creme fraiche. Good music was playing the entire time, we could both hear each other talk and when the bill came, it didn’t break the bank.

With a fully belly, we rode back to Manhattan….but with a little less fear in my heart, but thighs still feeling like hardened bricks.

DUMBO, we’ll be back.

Come Fly Away……..

Last night, C. took me out on a date (dinner followed by a Broadway show!). He picked me up at work, and we walked aimlessly down 9th Avenue until we found a restaurant that looked visibly appealing. We decided on eating at Bocca Di Bocco, a cozy Italian restaurant with a rustic wood interior and walls lined with wine bottles. The food was delicious, the wine was cooling, and the atomsphere was warm and pleasant. We were enjoying dinner so much, we didn’t realize we had 10 minutes to get to the show.

We got there just in time! The show is basically the song catalog of Frank Sinatra (played by an onstage big band) with dancing choregraphed by Twyla Tharp. I have to say I enjoyed the second half of the show more than the first half. The beginning of the show played all of his ‘big band’ songs, trumpets blaring, large crescendos, bravado style singing and the dance was very ‘Broadway/musical theatre’ for lack of a better term. The music in the second half (One for my Baby; My Way) lent itself more to the fluid choreography. My only negative comment is there was one dancer, Rika Okamoto, whose dancing was so awful and significantly sub-par in comparison to the rest of the dancers, that I couldn’t stand anytime she was on stage. As a professional dancer, you need to use and feel every limb….all the way down to the tips of your fingers and toes. This one dancer Rika only felt an overall feeling, and her limbs had absolutely no fluidity to them at all. Overall, she sucked.

I really enjoyed the show, and if you love to dance, I would definitely recommend Come Fly Away!

Moonshadows Restaurant - Malibu, CA

Stuck in a depressive state after our Barney’s shopping excursion, Erinn & I decided to shoot up to Malibu for dinner. After we shot down Duke’s because according to Erinn “the food isn’t that good,” we decided upon Moonshadows. Yes, the very Moonshadows that Mel Gibson had his drunken debaucherous night. The very same one. I think, well why would I not want to visit a restaurant that is now part of Hollywood history…of course I would!!!

We were seated very quickly in a corner booth. Before I sat down, I had to wipe down my seat because there were crumbs and food droppings still on it from the previous customers, as well as an additional wipe down of my table which had puddles of liquid on it. Erinn & I were immediately turned off.

Fast forward.

Erinn ordered the pork chops with candied apples and sweet potato fries ($29). She enjoyed her dish and found the pork chop to be perfectly cooked. I ordered the Red fish with shrimp wrapped in roasted red peppers, a spanish rice cake and spinach all topped with chorizo oil ($27) which was served lukewarm. There was no shrimp wrapped in a roasted red pepper, but a scallop and the pepper was from a jar. And there was an absence of chorizo oil, but rather a tomato-based broth with saffron to add flavor. I also ordered a glass of Shiraz ($9.00) which arrived in a glass full of fingerprints. Bleh.

When we initially ordered our dishes which we restricted to just an entree each due to financial costs, the waiter actually had the nerve to say “You’re not ordering an appetizer? You really should. Your pork chop takes a really long time to cook, so you should probably get an appetizer.” I was appalled. It was immediate that this waiter was not interested in making our dining experience pleasant, but was trying to sell us food….like a car salesman!!!

When we finished our meals, obviously the snotty waiter tried to push a dessert course on us. We declined which resulted in a response from the waiter of “well, fine then.”

Our total bill….$70 and change. So not worth it.

Great location.
Dirty restaurant.
Overpriced and overrated.

Oh yea….we saw two roaches in the ladies bathroom.

Have fun Mel!

Wokcano - Santa Monica

Last night, I attended after-work drinks to celebrate my boss’birthday with my entire office (a total of 9 people) @ Wokcano. I guess Wokcano just took over the restaurant that used to Akwa, a sushi joint.

From first impression of walking into the restaurant, up the stairs and out to the outdoor patio, I was impressed. Immediately I thought that Wokcano would be a place that I would definitely recommend for after-work drinks based strictly on their awesome outdoor patio that is sandwiched between 5-story brick buildings and the awesome lounge/electronica music they were playing. You feel like you were immediately transcended to NYC or San Francisco. Oh…and did I mention that they have happy hour every night from 3-6pm, every drink and appetizers are half-off. Intriguing right?

Their menu was a basic hodge-podge of japanese and chinese cuisine, nothing too impressive. As soon as we sat down, the waiters filled our clutter-free table with plates, napkins, forks, chopsticks, soy sauce plates, and glasses of water. We the proceeded to wait so long for our hot sake (they forgot to heat up the hot sake from the previous night), that we received a complimentary bottle of Nigori unfiltered sake.

Great decor & atmosphere.
Not-so-great service.
Food was forgettable.

Take it or leave it.