Post Vaccination Mastication

Friedman's - Hell's Kitchen

Disclaimer: Let me be honest. I didn't go to breakfast intending to write about it. I've never written a review of a place I've gone alone, at least I don't remember ever doing it. But halfway through breakfast, I thought of the title for this and had to write something to justify using it.

I started my Saturday morning at 6:45AM. There were days, many moons ago, that I used to just be getting to sleep at that hour. I stumbled around my apartment and dragged my disgruntled ass to the Javits Center for my second vaccine shot. It's pretty impressive just how streamlined and quick that process was and how pleasant all the people there have been both times I was there. I was in and out in about 25 minutes and that includes the 15 minutes you have to wait after you've gotten the shot. Can't complain about that at all.

Since I was up and in the city, it seemed like a good idea to find myself some breakfast. A quick
trip to the Google showed me that there was a place called Friedman's just 2 blocks away. So I strolled my newly vaccinated self those blocks in search of caffeine and tasty morning victuals.

I walked in, had my temperature taken, filled out the contact tracing form and was seated right in the window pretty quickly. There was outside dining and a dining room in the back that I didn't see. I was seated in the little coffee shop up front. More or less nondescript. Some exposed brick and a tiny bar.

I then sat there for a solid 15 minutes before anyone even spoke to me again. The guy that seated me was in constant motion. It almost seemed that he and the busser were the only people working. There were two other people that I noticed as I was there, they seemed to spend a lot of time chatting with each other or with friends. Quite honestly, I waited at my table so long without anyone even looking in my direction that I considered leaving. Right before I put my notebook away and walked out, I someone finally came over. I think the busser noticed me writing in my little review notebook and said something to someone. I noticed that he kept staring at me as he went past me. I thought maybe I had begun to grow a cock from my forehead, but maybe it was just that he noticed me writing and thought it was about the restaurant. He was right...about me writing about the place, not about me having a cock on my forehead. I spoke to all 3 of the waitstaff while I was there. I didn't speak to the staring busser (I can't call him “bus boy”, he was easily older then everyone else working there.), he freaked me out a little bit. They were all very nice and friendly. It just quite often seemed that only 1 of them was working there.

I was hungry.  It was good.  

I will say that once I placed my order, the food came out pretty quickly. The pastrami hash had
nice chunks of pastrami, perfectly cooked oozy eggs and scallions that really helped brighten up what could've been a heavy meal. Even the toast was good. The dish was in need of seasoning, but after adding some salt and pepper...it was really an excellent breakfast. The side of bacon was thick and nicely cripsy without being burnt. After a couple of pieces though, the sweet glaze, or something that was put on it, became a little cloying. Not that I didn't finish it. There was nothing but empty plates and cups left when I left. Unfortunately, the coffee was kind of bitter. Not bold, just bitter...maybe a little burnt. If you're serving breakfast, you've got to have good coffee. This coffee was a fail. I finished that cup of coffee with a grimace, which will tell you just how much I needed the coffee.

A slightly uneven experience. But if I find myself at the Javits Center again, hopefully for something more pleasant than getting jabbed in the arm with a pointy object loaded with drugs, I'll try them again.

Friedman's – Hell's Kitchen

450 10^th Avenue

New York, NY, 10018

212-268-1100

Sometimes You Have Dinner In A Bank Vault

 Butcher and Banker

Before we get started, I just need to say this. I'm eating dinner in a bank vault. A FRIGGIN' BANK VAULT! Fucking cool! Yeah, I'm a dork. So what.

It was Good Friday and for those of you that have been reading, you know what that means. It means it's time for MEAT. We've been at this for about a decade I think. We started this at the Benchmark in Park Slope and enjoyed our first couple of times there. We moved on to some hits and misses. I'd say Butcher and Banker was definitely a hit...with a couple of minor dings.

I was thinking about our sinful outings as I've been getting ready to write this. At pretty much every one there's been at least one fellow diner that manages to make us hate him or her. They're obnoxious to the staff. They're loud enough that it's impossible not to eavesdrop. And the conversations we eavesdrop on are always just terrible. This year was no different. This guy was across the vault from us and just annoying as all hell. This jackhole should definitely have been swallowed 40 years ago. Some folks just shouldn't be allowed out. I'm pretty sure these people are our penance from Jesus for so blatantly chewing meat in his face.

The setting really is kind of special here. I mean, that's true of all steakhouses. There's something classic and cool about a good steakhouse. But this took it to a different level. You enter through the New Yorker Hotel and then take an elevator downstairs. For some reason, I really liked the idea of going underground for dinner. It felt like we were going down to the Bat Cave. That feeling only increased when we were seated in a bank vault. I felt like we were having dinner in a Batman movie. Annie and I were seated beside a wall of safety deposit boxes. Oddly, the opposite wall was decorated pink flowers printed on a baby blue field. I have no idea what the heck that was about, but it certainly made you notice it. It sort of looked like pillows you'd find an a grandmother's couch. Kind of reminded me of the walls in this Italian restaurant, Gino's, that was on the beginning of the Upper East Side. They had zebras on a red field. Completely insane.

Our waiter, Miguel, deserves special mention. He was very pleasant. Seemed actually happy to be doing his job. And when Annie couldn't figure out what kind of cocktail she wanted, he was on the ball to help. That kind of attention to detail. He was clearly a professional and very good at what he does. It's that kind of service that helps make steakhouses special. Thank you, good sir.

That was a lot of writing and I haven't gotten to anything edible yet. Here we go.

After Annie settled on a negroni, which was excellent, and really hard to make properly because Campari is so bitter, and I ordered a fantastic Old-Fashioned (I'm a man of habit, I guess), they brought us out some delicious buns covered in herbs and butter and served with onion butter. I didn't know what onion butter was before last night, but I do now and I can never go back to not knowing. It was delicious and I want more of it. Then the appetizers started coming.

We began with a seafood tower. I didn't realize I'd be knocking down a dozen oysters, I figured on a half dozen. But when one has a job to do, a tasty tasty job at that, one does his duty. The oysters were fresh and briny and wonderful. The cocktail sauce needed some horseradish punch but the vinaigrette was good. Really, the oysters didn't need anything. The cocktail shrimp were the size of those mini-bats they give away at baseball games and were just as good as the oysters. The crab was good and crabby, I can't really think of anything else to say about it. The salmon tartar was pretty bland. It really needed some salt and maybe some heat. We also had Burrata Caprese, which was absolutely perfect, creamy and gleefully decadent. And finished off appetizing with Fried Calamari, Rock Shrimp and Shishito Peppers. Perfectly seasoned. I really liked the wasabi sauce. Annie preferred the curry salt. (BTW Annie, it was curry salt.) What is it about shishito peppers that make them so good?

Then the main event happened. We ordered the porterhouse for two, roasted mushrooms, creamed spinach and a potato cake cooked in duck fat. The porterhouse was really good. Incredible crust and well salted. Unfortunately, we ordered it medium rare and some of it came out well done. But somehow, even the well done parts were really tender and tasty. Just not as good as it could have and should have been. The creamed spinach was good and there was A LOT of it. It basically came in a gravy boat. The potatoes were crispy and rich. You could actually taste the duck fat. I could've eaten a bucket of those mushrooms. I would have if I didn't feel like I was going to explode at the table. There was just no way I could accommodate anymore food.

I would definitely recommend Butcher and Banker and would absolutely enjoy going back. This was a great time. I just want to say thank you to the Romans and Jews for offing Jesus, and for doing such a shit job of it that he came back a couple of days later so that Annie and I could enjoy fancy steak dinners once a year.

*Some pictures courtesy of Annie and her fancy new phone.

*If you want to see more pictures, you can fine them on Instagram @mikenico13

Butcher and Banker

481 8^th Avenue, Vault Level

New York, NY, 10065

212-268-8455

WHEN IS A "CLASSIC" NOT A CLASSIC?

Rebecca and I rocked out at a Michelin-starred joint a couple of Saturdays ago. Turns out Michelin-starred restaurants are, on occasion, like “classic” books or movies. Sometimes after experiencing them, you're left wondering, “Really? What's all the fuss?' At least, that's how I felt about Meadowsweet. It was good. A nice experience. Nothing even remotely bad. Also, nothing great either.

To start with, they're on top of their Covid game. They take temperatures on the wrist, take contact information from one of us and even ask that you put your facial covering on when interacting with the staff. Which is a step further than I've seen so far. But if it makes them feel safer, I'm all for it. I appreciate the effort. So much so, that I feel like, probably for awhile, it'll have a position in my reviews. It's important to feel safe and comfortable to enjoy a meal properly. Even as we go forward with vaccinations, I can't wait to get my second shot already, the world will probably need some precautions for a bit. It's a tough position restaurants hosts and waitstaff are put in. They have to enforce whatever rules the state, city and their owner have decided are necessary, and they have to do it in a way that is somehow unobtrusive to the experience of their restaurant and still be firm enough that the few that still think this was/is all a scam comply without making a scene. And you never know when that needle in the haystack asshole may pop up and try to ruin everyone's night like a rotten fart.

Sorry about that, it felt like I needed to say it and it just landed in the middle of this review.

That said, I liked the interior of the place. Light woods, cute dangly light thingamawhatsits, banquet seats along the wall...it had a comfortable but classy vibe. Not particularly unique, but nicely done. I dug the music that was playing too. Weirdly, I can't remember what was playing, I just remember noticing that I liked it. The staff were all very pleasant. Although I kind of felt like our waiter was some kind of stealthy assassin. Being that you're supposed to be masked when dealing with the waiter, I tried to get my mask on before he got to the table. But he kept sneaking up on me. Not once did I manage to see him coming, not one damned time.

We started our meal with Olive Oil rolls with Thyme Butter and Burrata with Autumn Squash. Those rolls were outrageous. I'm not even sure why. They were just dinner rolls. Hot, fluffy, flavorful dinner rolls with yummy butter. Damn, I want more of those rolls. I really love carbs. The burrata was really tasty. It came on a sage pesto, with Brussels sprouts and spiced pecans. It was all delicious, it just wasn't burrata. It was a loaf of fresh mozzarella. That messy, delicious creamy center just wasn't there. And without that, it's just cheese. Not the indulgent glee that burrata is.

Daffy tastes good covered in Mole Sauce.

The Bavette (Which is just a fancy way to hangar steak) was cooked absolutely perfectly. It came dressed in a tasty vinaigrette. I only got a bite of that, but it was a good bite. I had the Duck Breast Mole. I didn't know duck should be prepared medium-rare. Turns out the chef was right.
That duck was delicious. So was the mole sauce it came in. Just the perfect amount of heat and sweet. The potatoes and Brussels sprouts were delicious in the mole too. My sneaker would be delicious in that mole.

The Barrel Aged Brooklyn was a Manhattan...but not a barrel aged one. It was mediocre at best. So I moved on to the Mary, Queen of Scotch...great name! This was a scotch cocktail with vanilla and citrus. It could have used some heat to balance out the sweetness, but still a good drink. Just not more than one, I think.

Dessert was a Flourless Chocolate Cake, which was OK. It didn't feel classic, it felt passe. The Caramel Ice Cream it came with was really good though. Caramel is usually too strong and sweet a flavor for me, but this was nicely balanced. The Rose Water Panna Cotta was just not my jam. (Jesus, those last sentences felt really douchey to write. I'm not sure why.)

The overall menu isn't very deep. But what's on it, is mostly done well, based on what we had. I know, I know, I said a lot of very positive things considering I started this review saying it was “classic”. And I stand by that. It just doesn't quite come together. I know, nothing is quite coming together right now, we're living in strange times...and I get that. It just didn't feel like that was it. Like Meadowsweet, while good, was not the great I was expecting. If there was a Meadowsweet in my neighborhood, I'd be a regular. I just wouldn't travel out of my way to go there. Like I said in the beginning, it was good just not a classic.

Meadowsweet

149 Broadway

Brooklyn, NY, 11211

718-384-0673