The Grey Dog

There is a cafe in Manhattan that looks like it belongs just off the water in Seattle. Confession: I've never been to Seattle, so maybe that last sentence was 100% false. It's just that there's a quaintness to The Grey Dog, which I'm associating with harbors and seaside towns, with friendly dispositions, and with a solid cup o' joe. Rumor has it Seattle boasts these qualities - thanks to The Grey Dog's three Manhattan locations, New York does too.

The Grey Dog is a casual eatery with hearty sandwiches, salads, soups, desserts, and more. The sandwiches are made with thick cut bread and served with potato chips and pickles, the salads are portioned generously, the soups vary daily, the desserts are enormous, and the "more" includes many breakfast items, burgers, quesadillas, and fish tacos. Beverages include myriad coffee and tea options, juice, soft drinks, smoothies, beer, and wine. They even offer happy hour specials, which surprises me for no valid reason whenever I see the sign. Mayhaps it's just that I like their coffee so much, I can't fathom opting for reasonably priced booze instead? The world may never know.

So here's the rundown on how The Grey Dog works: You walk in. You stand on line at the counter. You ever-so-subtly pump your booty to the Otis Redding playing overhead. You read the menu on the back wall. You order from the super friendly person at the counter who prepares your drink and dessert order, takes your name, and rings you up at the register. You pay. You pick up silverware, napkins, and condiments from the hutch on the side of the room. You find a seat. If you struggle with that last bit, someone who works there may assist you. You sit. You scroll through your cell. You take a sip of your drink and glance at the pictures on the wall (photos at the Carmine location; comics in Chelsea). You hear your name called. You wave to the guy walking around with your entree and that lost puppy look. You smile at each other and say "Thank you." You eat. You enjoy.

The Grey Dog (also known as "The Grey Dog's Coffee") has three locations, but all offer the same quality food and service. Speaking of that service, it is laid-back to the point it is sometimes slow. However, when you are ordering at the counter and seeing how much individual attention each customer is given, you understand. and hopefully forgive.

All three locations have the same general look and feel - weathered wood, makeshift signs, exposed brick, knickknacks, and colorful tabletops (some with pictures of boats, some with maps, some with dogs - all cute). The difference between the three locations is size - Carmine Street is the smallest, University Place is somewhat larger, and Chelsea is the biggest.

Now, whether this is really the look and feel of Seattle is your call. Considering some of the menu items are designated "Michigan Sandwiches," maybe it's more reminiscent of that part of the country. I wouldn't know, as I haven't been there either. What I can say with absolute certainty, however, is that I like it.

The Grey Dog's Coffee - 33 Carmine Street, between Bedford & Bleecker Streets
The Grey Dog's Coffee - 90 University Place, between East 11th & East 12th Streets
The Grey Dog Chelsea - 242 West 16th Street, between 7th & 8th Avenues

wd~50

It sounds like a cleaning agent, looks like art, feels like a science experiment, smells like food, and tastes...well, some say exhilarating, and others...don't. Simply put, wd~50 is a restaurant on the Lower East Side with inventive dishes. You may have seen chef/owner Wylie Dufresne demonstrating his molecular gastronomy on Bravo's "Top Chef," The Food Network's "Iron Chef America," or in other televised appearances. At his restaurant, you can experience the madness firsthand.

Chef Dufresne has an impressive culinary background and a noteworthy co-owner in Jean-Georges Vongerichten (chef/owner of high end establishments in and beyond NYC, including but not limited to Perry St, Jo Jo, Jean Georges, Nougatine, Spice Market, Matsugen, and Dune). He's therefore not just some dude with chemicals and toys. He's a knowledgeable dude with chemicals and toys.

Whether or not you enjoy what he and his kitchen cohorts produce, however, is a matter of preference. The menu changes fairly regularly, but the inventiveness remains constant. So do the relatively high prices, for that matter. Therefore, knowing it won't be a cheap meal regardless of what you order, I would suggest indulging in the nine-course tasting menu ($140) with or without the wine pairing ($75). This way, you get the full impact of what makes this restaurant special, for better or worse.

What kind of special am I talking about? Well, basically every dish plays with texture, flavor, color, and temperature in unexpected ways. On a visit a few years back, the menu included a "sunny side up egg," which looked like what it sounds like but tasted like carrot (the runny "yolk"), coconut and cardamom (the firm "white"). A deconstructed deli sandwich included thin strips of beef tongue, a smear of tomato molasses, and cubes of fried mayonnaise. Yes, cubes. Yes, fried mayonnaise. You read that correctly. Other dishes involve aerated mousses, foamed liquids, chewy gels, and "soils" (dehydrated and crumbled solids).

The art of the dishes carries over to the room itself. Light fixtures are boldly colored and varied in shape, walls are painted in rich hues, and a mosaic graces the space above the bathroom sinks. The floors are both stone and wood, and seats include a combination of wood, cushioned banquettes, and metal stools (seven at the bar, where the full menu is available).

There is also a private dining room, which can seat up to fourteen people, in the restaurant's wine cellar. Though the main dining room and bathrooms are wheelchair accessible, this private room is not. For dining options and minimum price requirements in the wine cellar, information is displayed on their website.

I would say wd~50 is worth checking out at least once. If you like it, feel free to check it out more than once - I'm ok with that. In order to potentially like it though, you have to be willing to give it a chance. If you're just in the mood for a skirt steak with mashed potatoes, come back another night. If you want to impress that suit who fancies himself a "foodie," go ahead and make a reservation - I'm ok with that too.

wd~50 - 50 Clinton Street, between Stanton & Rivington Streets

Brunch, Part 1 - Crunked Edition

As we head into the weekend, I thought now would be a good time to share a couple noteworthy brunch spots. There will be more in the future, so this is just Part 1. Today's theme is "Urrbody in the brunch gettin' tipsy." You see, brunch in NYC is a great time to catch up with old acquaintances, spend time with the in-laws, and recap last night with your best friends. It's also the perfect opportunity to get moderately intoxicated or flat out sloppy in the middle of the day with no one judging you. Here are two places where that can happen inexpensively.

1) Essex - 120 Essex Street, at the corner of Rivington Street

For $18*, you get an entree and three cocktails. The selection of entrees is extensive, ranging from multiple egg incarnations (benedict, baked over ham with vegetables and cheese, scrambled with chorizo and onions, matzo brei, etc) to pancakes to mac & cheese with chicken apple sausage to french toast with fruit to house-cured gravlax and beyond. The choices are many, and the portions are large.

As for the booze, you have a selection of bloody marys, screwdrivers, or mimosas. The first three are included in the price of brunch, and any additional ones you may choose to knock back after that are $3*. Then again, I once had a frazzled waitress who just left the pitcher of mimosas on the table for us to handle - and handle it we did.

So here are the particulars: brunch is served Saturday from 11:00am until 4:30pm and until 8:00pm on Sunday. Alcohol is not served on Sunday until noon, so coffee (iced or hot), tea (iced or hot), espresso, cappuccino, and soda are complimentary until then. You'll want to make a reservation ahead of time (via phone or opentable.com), as the room fills up with a quickness, and you'll want to bring cash, as that is the only payment Essex accepts during brunch.

2) Fiddlesticks - 56 Greenwich Avenue, between Perry & Charles Streets

For $10, you get an entree and two cocktails. Ten dollars?! Ten dollars. The entree selection is rather basic - omelets, eggs benedict, french toast or pancakes with fresh fruit, burger with various toppings, fish and chips (this is a pub, after all) - but you get a decent portion for the money. The egg dishes come with hearty homestyle potatoes, and when you ask for ketchup, it comes in a squeezey bottle shaped like a fat tomato. Charming!

As for the drinks, you have a choice of bloody marys, screwdrivers, mimosas, kir royales, Bud draught, or wine (red or white). The menu states the brunch drinks are complimentary, and Fiddlesticks will not substitute. Between vodka, champagne, beer, and wine, I don't know what else you're trying to drink, but I guess they've been asked enough times to warrant the disclaimer.

The particulars: brunch is served both Saturday and Sunday from 11:30am until 4:00pm. When the weather is nice, outdoor dining is available on the sidewalk out front. If you would rather sit at one of these tables than inside, get here early, as they tend to fill up quickly. Hey, if you're tired, you can always catch a drunken nap when you're done.

*UPDATE: The prices have increased. I repeat. The prices have increased. Brunch at Essex is now $20 for the entree and three cocktails, and any additional cocktail you may wish to purchase beyond the first three is now $4. (sigh) and so it goes...and other Billy Joel lyrics.

The Spotted Pig

There's a lot of hype around The Spotted Pig thanks to its chef (April Bloomfield), owners (Ken Friedman and Ms. Bloomfield), investors (Mario Batali and Joseph Bastianich were early ones), and accolades (one star from The New York Times in 2006 and a seemingly brighter star from Michelin in 2005, the first year the European guide rated restaurants in New York). These names, individually and at times in partnership with one another, are responsible for The Breslin Bar and Dining Room (currently in the Ace Hotel), The Rusty Knot (a bar proximate to The Spotted Pig and adjacent to the Hudson River), John Dory (now closed), Otto, Babbo, Lupa, Casa Mono, Del Posto, and Becco - to name but a few of many. The Spotted Pig even made an appearance on NBC's "The Office" when Jim and Karen went to Manhattan for interviews before returning to Scranton for a little more Jim/Pam will-they-won't-they (spoiler alert: they will). However, these are not the reasons I go to The Spotted Pig. I buy into the hype on account of the food.

The menu is organized into Bar Snacks, Plates, Entrees, and Sides. Some of the Bar Snacks are large enough to qualify as appetizers (hi, chicken liver toast. I love you), some of the Plates are large enough to qualify as main courses (I see you, gnudi, with your ricotta dumpling tastiness and brown butter/sage sauce), and some of the Sides can be cobbled together for a hearty vegetarian meal (roasted onions and spiced lentils? Come a little closer). The food is basically English fare with Italian flare.

You'll find deviled eggs, mixed olives, and roll mops (pickled herring with onions and creme fraiche) in the Bar Snacks. Plates include smoked haddock chowder with homemade crackers, fried duck egg with ramps, and a prosciutto/ricotta tart with marjoram. As for Entrees, there's the grilled beef tongue with duck fat potatoes and pickled beets (potentially for the more adventurous eater) and the burger (for everyone else). It's a thick, chargrilled patty with roquefort cheese on a chargrilled bun. It comes with a side of garlic/rosemary shoestring fries, which are insanely addictive, even after you've promised yourself, "Ok, this is my LAST one."

So what I'm saying is, the food's good. So is the booze selection, as this is a pub after all. There are the usual liquor options, an extensive wine list, some unusual beers, and a couple cask ales. These may be enjoyed at your table or at the two bars - one on the main level and one upstairs. Food may also be enjoyed at the bars or by columns when tables are full.

Speaking of those tables, like at other wildly popular Manhattan restaurants that don't take reservations, they're hard to snag during peak hours. If you don't get there early (dinner starts at 5:30pm) or mind stopping in late (the kitchen closes at 2:00am seven nights a week), you can wait at either bar in the meantime, or you may leave your name and number with the host who will call when a table is available. So says their website, at least. I've never attempted that last bit - opting instead to sip a brewsky and stare longingly at occupied seats.

Speaking of those seats, some are merely cushioned windowsills, some are banquettes, and many are low, backless stools. Diners here come in all shapes, sizes, and ages, but I gotta say, those stools don't seem appropriate for everyone. Of course, by "everyone," I basically mean "my mom." I don't know for sure, but I get the feeling most middle-aged people with back problems wouldn't arm-wrestle each other over the privilege to perch on one of these. I do know for sure the idea of my mom arm-wrestling anyone is hilarious. Disclaimer: the restaurant does not encourage arm-wrestling at all, as far as I know.

The proximity of diners is also noteworthy. When the room is full and the bars are packed, patrons are in close quarters. The noise level increases with the crowd, and one becomes privy to unexpected conversations. I now know about the active sex life of a 34 year old hipster and the bowel habits of an overweight divorcee. I suspect he was lying - I fear she was not.

Somehow, the waitstaff handle the chaos in stride. Sure, there are times when you may have to grab someone's attention as he/she bobs and weaves through the tightly pressed crowd, but you ultimately get the sense everything's under control. The specials are announced calmly with notes as to which are personal favorites, the drinks are delivered promptly, and plates are brought and removed efficiently. Even with the crowd looming inches away, you're offered a dessert menu as if to say, "Enjoy your meal to the fullest, pal. We won't turn the table until you're ready, friend."

While we're on desserts, I'm going to take this moment to make a plea. The banoffee. I need it back in my life. It's a slice of banana/toffee/chocolate/fresh cream fantastic, and I'm sad it has been off the menu for quite some time. I've resorted to making it at home. Pig, I'd rather you just do it for me. There, I said it.

Between the atmosphere (unsurprisingly, pig paraphernalia abounds - there's even a hanging model outside in lieu of a sign), the crowd, and the food, it all adds up to an interesting night out. Take your old college buddy. Take your husband. Take your mom - just sit on the stool yourself.

The Spotted Pig - 314 West 11th Street, at the corner of Greenwich Street

Tomoe

I think there are two main reasons people line up outside and wait for seats at Tomoe:

1. The interior is crazy small.
2. The food is crazy good.

What is not crazy, however, is you for wanting to get in. Well, ok, if you're standing in the rain with the flu and you'd just like a bowl of miso soup, you're crazy for waiting. If you're craving hot dogs and french fries, which they don't serve at this Japanese restaurant, you're crazy for waiting. If you're the guy on the subway who set empty toothpaste boxes on the seat next to me, scratched your head, and then smacked me on the arm, you're just straight up crazy. Thanks for reading my blog, though!

Like at Tartine, there isn't always a mob of patrons clamoring for seats, but trusting reader, it is only fair that I warn you it can happen, has happened, and will happen again.

So what's the fuss? The sushi is damn good. The selection is fresh as fresh can be, and they have options not typically found at most Japanese restaurants. For example, whereas eel is a common sushi restaurant find, both sea and fresh water options are not. Whereas most offer yellowtail, Tomoe additionally offers belly and baby yellowtail. To be fair, not every item listed on the menu is always available. To that, I say, "Whoop Whoop," because if it's not fresh at the market that day, they're not serving it, and I'm not eating it. Upset stomach and parasites avoided!

In addition to the freshness and variety, the sushi is noteworthy for its size. The rolls, like at most establishments, vary in girth depending on the contents. The pieces, however, are where it's at. Rather than the fish sitting on the small bed of rice, it drapes across and beyond it. Ok, so the prices aren't cheap, but at least you're getting some bang for your buck. and by "bang" I mean "fish." and by "buck" I mean "$4.75 per piece on average." You are also getting a complimentary dish of marinated bean sprouts at the start of your meal, which seems random and boring until you realize you can't stop eating it.

As for the decor, there's not much to it - just wooden tables crammed next to one another and a rather small sushi bar along the back of the room able to accommodate about five to seven diners. The walls are mostly adorned with pictures of sushi, and last time I was there, several signs were on display indicating Tomoe only accepts cash or American Express. If you plan to use amex, it is worth noting the $15 lunch and $20 dinner minimums.

So if you've walked around Greenwich Village for hours and want to cap off the day with a solid Japanese meal, Tomoe could be the spot for you. If you're an NYU student tired of spending your dining dollars at the same places, Tomoe could be the spot for you. If you're planning to propose to your girlfriend who is allergic to seafood, Tomoe is probably not the best bet for you. Maybe try Il Mulino up the block and around the corner on West 3rd.

Tomoe - 172 Thompson Street, between Bleecker & Houston Streets

Estiatorio Milos

I only go to Estiatorio Milos when someone else is picking up the check. The room is lovely, the food is fresh, but the prices are outrageous. Truly truly truly outrageous, in the words of eighties cartoon Jem.

Milos (Restaurant, you don't mind if I call you that, right?) is an upscale Mediterranean/Greek establishment in Midtown, specializing in seafood. Meat and vegetables make appearances on the menu as well, but at least one person at the table should try the fish...or the scallops...or the lobster...even if it costs a bazillion dollars. Most is prepared simply - charcoal grilled with olive oil and a squeeze of lemon - but that's the beauty of Milos. In a clean, white room evocative of the Mediterranean seaside, you want to taste the clean, fresh fish. Covering it in a sauce (though potentially tasty) would obscure the flavors of the sea, and it seems that's not what Milos is aiming to do.

Most of the seafood is priced and offered by the pound. If I remember correctly, some have a poundage minimum, so it helps if someone else at the table is eying the same variety to share. If you would rather your dish be cooked in sea salt with olive oil and a lemon sauce (rather than charcoal grilled), there is a 3 pound whole fish minimum and a $15 supplement per order.

One non-fish dish I must mention is the "Milos Special." It's an appetizer of thinly sliced zucchini, eggplant, and saganaki cheese that have been ever-so-lightly fried so that they almost take on the consistency of chips. In this most swanky version of chips and dip, the dip is a yogurty/tzatziki situation, and it. is. delightful. At $28.75 an order, it better be.

So where are we eating all of this? In a lovely space on West 55th Street proximate to Carnegie Hall (two blocks north) and the MoMA (two blocks south). It is a large room divided into two main sections by back to back banquettes and a sheer white curtain draping down from the ceiling. To the left of the entrance and the divider is the stone bar, some tables, a kiosk of sorts with busy chefs preparing that which requires preparation, and a lofted private dining room up a flight of stairs. This private room is comprised of two walls dedicated to wine racks and two glass walls through which you can see the rest of the restaurant, and the rest of the restaurant can see you.

To the right of the divider is the main dining room. Here you'll find the majority of the tables, the open kitchen, the bountiful display of whole fish on ice (from which you may choose and indicate to your waiter the exact one you care to have for your meal), and another private dining room up another flight of stairs. This private room, like the one on the other side of the restaurant, is partially glass enclosed, but translucent curtains may be drawn. Whereas this private room can accommodate several small tables, the other may only house one.

The restaurant is decorated in muted tones - mainly white, beige, and gray. The floors are both hardwood and stone, and dramatic elements include large open umbrellas over a select few tables, over-sized stone jugs, and columns reminiscent of ruins.

Estiatorio Milos is a great choice for an upscale seafood restaurant if you know what you're getting into regarding the prices. They do what they do well, but if you're not prepared for the wallet whomping, the shock may make you regurgitate your meal all over yourself. That would be quite the expensive mishap. and disgusting.

Estiatorio Milos - 125 West 55th Street, between 6th & 7th Avenues

Tartine

I need to have patience when I go to the wee French restaurant Tartine. This West Village hot spot doesn't take reservations (or credit cards, FYI), so it operates on a first-come-first-served basis. On nights when people come out in droves, it may be quite some time until you are seated, let alone served.

There is no room inside the restaurant for patrons to wait for a table. They are therefore relegated to the sidewalk where the line extends down West 11th Street and often wraps around to West 4th. On my patient nights, part of the Tartine fun is in the waiting. You make friends with others standing on line, you decide whether or not you'll order what those dining outside are eating, and you catch up with your friend, because hey, that's why you guys came out tonight anyway, right?

On other nights, I'm cranky. No promise of reasonably priced delectable French food nor memories of past positive experiences here is enough to keep me waiting for upwards of half an hour. On those nights, I'm grateful I live in Manhattan where myriad dining options are only steps away (Corner Bistro, Smorgas Chef, Tea & Sympathy, The Spotted Pig, and dell'anima to name but a few. More on those in subsequent posts).

Alright, so on the busy nights (and they're not ALL this busy, by the way), you've waited, and you're told your table is ready. Now what? Well, upon entering, you probably already stubbed your toe on the base of the first table in your path. Excepting the display case of desserts to the right of the doorway, the room is dedicated to tables and seating. Diners sit on wooden chairs, in window sills, and basically in each others' laps. In warmer weather, a string of tables hugs the outer perimeter of the restaurant.

The restaurant's draw is one part food (because yes, the classic French fare - salads, entrees, and pastries included - is prepared well), one part ambiance (because despite the clamor for seats, the atmosphere is pleasantly lively, and the nautical touches lining the walls are charming), and one part BYOB. With no liquor license or corkage fee, every party comes packing with their own. The waitresses deftly remove your plastic bag from the wine store (Manley's Wine & Spirits is located three blocks north on 8th Avenue at Jane Street) and supply the necessary glasses in its place. On one particularly entertaining night, a pair of dudes (and I use the term endearingly for these fratty backward-baseball-cap-wearing types) came equipped not with a bottle of wine but with a case of beer. They plowed through it, stacking the empties on the edge of their table, while they nibbled the quiche du jour, grilled saucisson, salmon with a side of julienned vegetables, and a tarte tatin for dessert. It was incongruous, yet most impressive. Nobody batted an eye.

This restaurant is probably best for small parties - small patient parties with wine and a good attitude. If your children are the screamy, throwy, tantrumy type, it's probably best to leave them home with a babysitter - a patient babysitter with wine and a good attitude.

Tartine - 253 West 11th Street, at the corner of West 4th Street