I consider myself extremely lucky to have found friends that are as food-obsessed as I. Particularly females. Nothing better than a girl who can really get down on some food. When one of my closest friends was visiting last weekend, I used it as an opportunity to explore a number of eateries I’d been longing to try.
Although I’ve been less excited about dining at the super-fancy, why-is-the-hostess-glaring-at-me restaurants that are ever-popular here in New York, Narcissa was a chic upscale place I was really excited to visit. Located in the nearby (well, to me, anyway) East Village Standard Hotel, it wasn’t stuffy, and the ambience felt very low on the douche-ometer. Yes, there was the usual comma’d accompaniments for each dish on the menu, and the promise that each seed and grain (not to mention carnivorous offerings) was organically harvested by a sweet, dungaree’d Ivy Leaguer BUT, it felt genuine and, well, the food was splendid. The cocktails, particularly the saucily named “Frisky Cow” (bourbon, aperol, citrus, smoked paprika) were terrific, and I loved my super-savory, multi-textured main course: seared scallops with asparagus, maitake mushrooms, potato purée and–yes I’m bougie–lobster butter.
The carrots Wellington, of which I’d read a lot, was very tasty as well–a super Umami dream.
Black Seed Bagels
Opened by the husband-and-wife team who started the wildly-popular Mile End Delis, this further foray into Jewish cuisine had long been on my list. Lauren and I’d enjoyed the sandwiches from Mile End on a previous trip to NYC and we were both thrilled to go to their new Lower East Side bagel shop. I ordered their signature beet-smoked salmon, on an everything bagel, with horseradish cream cheese, sliced radishes and herbs (and I added cucumber.) While the flavors were good, it just wasn’t a New York bagel, which I should have known–particularly as they are advertised as “Montreal-style.” But, who can blame a New York resident for craving that doughy, toothsome hole-y goodness? Also, the prices were nothing short of crazytown. I’ll stick to their other ventures, methinks. (A couple of days later we got our fill of the classics at the unbeatable Tompkins Square Bagels which fulfilled any lingering bagel cravings.)
Opened a little over two years ago, this tiny tapas joint in lovely Cobble Hill always appealed to me, and although I largely detest brunch, they do a damn good (and very innovative) brunch! Case in point: freakishly good fried chickpeas to snack on (read: devour in handfuls.) My fried eggs over blood sausage and octopus (with squid ink on top) and my amiga’s fried meat and eggs “cuchifritos.” Not pictured: a Manzanilla sherry-Sprite concoction–que refresco!