Tzatziki Chicken Salad

Dramatis Personae
1/2 cup Greek yogurt
4 chicken thighs
2 tbsp red wine vinegar
1 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 clove garlic, minced
handful of chopped dill
3 chopped scallions (half a diced red onion would be tasty too)
salt and pepper
1 tsp paprika
1/2 tsp cumin
some kalamata olives, pitted and chopped (optional)
olive oil
1/2 cucumber

1. In a bowl, toss the chicken thighs with salt, pepper, paprika, cumin and olive oil.  Dump it out in a baking dish.  Roast for 40 minutes.  I like to turn them over halfway through.  I'm pretty sure it makes no difference really, but I'm weird like that.

2. Run your cucumber (I didn't bother to peel or seed mine.  I wouldn't worry about it.) over a box grater.  Then put it all in a tea towel and squeeze the liquid out of it.  If you leave it all in, you're sauce will be watery.  No one likes watery sauce.

3. While the chicken is cooking, combine the yogurt, olives (If you're using them.  They add a little extra brinyness to that party.  I'd say go lighter on the final salt seasoning if you choose to use 'em.) vinegar, lemon juice, garlic, dill, cucumber, scallions (or red onions.  See, I'm flexible.  I provide options.) and mix that shit up good.

4. When the chicken is done, let it rest for at least 10 minutes.  I'd let it go until it's cool enough to handle comfortably.  You're not going to eat it warm anyway, so what's the rush.  Chop/shred the chicken off the bone.  (Make sure you eat the chicken that's left on the bone.  Don't waste good chicken thigh meat or you certainly can't be a proper Fat Kid.) Fold the chicken into the tzatziki mixture.  Cover and let chill for at least a couple of hours or overnight if possible.  This lets the flavors meld more completely.

5. Get yourself some pitas, warm those sumbitches up, add some lettuce and tomato and your awesome chicken salad and you are set for some good eating.  And pretty healthy at that.  Who knew I had healthy food in my quiver?

The Old-Fashioned Manhattan

I was lucky enough to be invited to a Xmas Eve soiree by the wonderful Sletholts this past year.  I arrived armed with an idea for a new whiskey drink as per Gina's request.  As I've been told the drink was a hit, I've decided to share.

The Old-Fashioned Manhattan
2 parts Bulleit Bourbon (You don't have to use Bulleit.  It's just what I prefer.)
3/4 parts Grand Marnier
1/2 part sweet vermouth
1 or 2 dashes of angostura bitters (If you've got them. Of course I have them.)
Splash of simple syrup (Entirely optional.  Sometimes I add it. Sometimes I don't.)
2 brandied or maraschino cherries
1 strip of orange peel (Run a flame along this for a couple of seconds and then twist to release some of the oils.  Run it along the rim of the glass before dropping in the drink.)
Club Soda (Serve drink in rocks glass, obviously on the rocks.  After adding everything else, give the drink a couple of heavy splashes of the club soda.  You could make this drink without the club soda but the soda mellows out the harshness of all that booze nicely.  Makes for a more pleasurable sip.)

A bit of advice.  If at all possible, drink these standing up.  If you drink 2 or 3 of The Old-Fashioned Manhattan sitting down, you may find standing up again to be more difficult than normal.

Burrata and Birthdays

 Things didn't start out in a way that inspired optimism for our shared birthday dinner. Annie was turning whatever age it is that women decide they are and I was checking into a new decade...the 40's. To celebrate another year of survival, we invited a handful of friends to feast with us. Based on a recommendation of a friend we went with Patrizia's in Williamsburg. Before you get all “Fuck Williamsburg and all those hipsters”, this is the least hipstery thing in all of Williamsburg, maybe in all of Brooklyn. So shut the fuck up. We showed up 645pm for our 7 o'clock reservation and noticed just how packed this place was. It was absolutely bustling. We met the nice woman at the door and she tells us that it'll be just a little bit, but not too long. After being bounced around in the very tiny little area in front of the entrance to the restaurant, a waiter led us into a tent set up against the front of the restaurant that had one of those heater tower thingies in it. He provided us with the proverbial “Bottle of red, bottle of white...” and left us to find someone that could figure out how to turn the heater thingie (I'm pretty sure that's the technical name for it) on. Luckily for our cold selves, I got the thing on and Jason figured out how to control how much heat we got from it. As our party arrived in dribs and drabs we enjoyed conversation and most of the wine provided us, while the tent got more and more crowded with other people waiting to be seated. It wasn't until around 745pm that we were finally shown to a table. Normally, I'd be pretty pissed about waiting an hour for a table that I'd made a reservation for. But this place was simply that damn good! As a testament to how good it was, it's been 6 days since we were there and I actually dreamt of the burrata I had there last night!

Patrizia's is incredibly crowded. It's difficult to move around in your seat, let alone get to and from your table. When I say crowded, I mean that two of our party seated in the corner had to actually crawl under the table to be able to go to the restroom. That's pretty damn crowded. It doesn't matter. The waitstaff are attentive and seem to be pretty happy folks. We're a pretty raucous bunch and a bunch of lushes. No one batted an eye at our needing to see a menu to accommodate our resident vegetarian or at our constant requests for more pitchers of sangria...and there were A LOT of pitchers of sangria. Even the other patrons all seemed to be jovial happy folks. We wound up talking to a bunch of the diners surrounding us, mostly because they're all close enough that they could be sitting with us in some instances. People are laughing and singing everywhere. They do a sing-along thing for people's birthdays where everyone waves their napkins in the air. We were there for probably 3+ hours and I'm positive I waived my napkin at least a dozen times (including for Annie...haha, didn't get me!)...and so did nearly everyone else. At one point we were actually singing and dancing to “Greased Lightning” at the table...yes, I said dancing. Never done that in an Italian restaurant, I bet. As much fun as this place was, and it was a ton of fun, the reason you overlook the wait and being packed in like an N train at rush hour is the food. Oh My God...the food.

We went with a family style menu. In other words, they just brought out plates of food and we attacked the plates with the fervor of ravenous wolverines. It started out with burrata (which is a mozzarella-type cheese stuffed with a creamy cheesy center) with caponata and marinated grape tomatoes. As I said, I dreamt about this last night. This was some of the best cheese I've ever put in my face hole. Someone nearly got themselves stabbed over the last piece on a plate. When the food provokes possible violence, you know you've done something right. After that came absolutely delicious eggplant parmigiana. Then some amazingly tender calamari tossed in a slightly spicy red sauce. Next was the best grilled octopus I've ever had. I LOVE octopus. I order it whenever I have the opportunity. This was the best I've ever had. It was almost buttery it was so tender. It's making me yearn just typing about it, so I'm going to move on before I start walking to Williamsburg right now. This was like wave after wave of Mmmmm. Now they bring these giant plates of mussels, clams and lobster. Which we devoured with glee. There were pieces of shell flying around everywhere. As though a 28-armed Tazmanian Devil attacked the table. Next came the pasta courses. I don't know what these things are really called but we called them “moneybags” because that's kind of what they looked like. Sort of like giant tortellini-type things stuffed with cheese in a cream sauce with mushrooms and prosciutto. So so good and so incredibly rich. Then more pasta which was orecchiette with broccoli rabe in garlic and oil. I'm not really a big broccoli rabe fan, so this didn't do too much for me. Just way too bitter. But the people that did like broccoli rabe, loved this stuff. Lastly they brought us plates of lamb chops and skirt steak. All niceties went out the window and I was eating the lamb chops like big, meat lollipops. By the time the meat was all gone, I was beaten into submission. I simply wasn't able to eat anymore. We had all been fed into oblivion. What an amazing feast.

MoneyBags...or whatever they're called

As I'm talking to a couple of other folks that took part in this fantastic meal I'm reminded that we had pizza and giant grilled shrimp. Both were pretty good. But not on the level of all this other outrageously great food.


At the end, someone ratted out Annie and they came and sang Happy Birthday to her and we all waived our napkins in the air. They brought out some desserts for her to blow out candles on. There was an apple turnover looking thing, tiramisu and some type of what looked like a crepe. I ate 2 bites of the tiramisu, which was quite good, but there was simply no more room inside of me. I'd have burst like an overstuffed sausage. Which is a lousy way to spend your 40^th birthday.


Instead of bursting from overeating, we all went to Windy City Ale House, which has been one of my favorite bars for awhile now, and imbibed until some ungodly hour with even more of my favorite people. I said it that night and I'll say it again now, “If this day is any indication as to what 40 is going to be like, this is going to be a fantastic year.” Thank you to all of you that came out and made it an incredible day. Thank you, Patrizia's for feeding us like it was our last meal. Thank you, Windy City, for making sure everything past around 1am is kind of blurry.


Patrizia's was just great, great food, with an excellent staff, a very fun atmosphere and seriously affordable. With all that food and drink it came to around $75 per person. That's a flat-out steal. If you've got some kind of group food outing in the planning, go here. You might find me at the door begging for burrata and octopus.


PS: I do apologize for the lack of pictures, we were just too caught up in having a great time to take any. Maybe I don't really apologize that much.



Patrizia's of Williamsburg
35 Broadway
Brooklyn, NY, 11249

Why I Accepted the #ALSIceBucketChallenge

Bear with me for what's ahead, this was written fairly spur-of-the-moment. It was one of those “If I don't write this shit down, it won't get out of my head and I'll never get any sleep”. My days of doing my best work at 1AM are largely over with 40 staring me in my face. So please indulge me a little if this isn't exactly well-written.

I run a couple of different blogs/pages/things. This doesn't really fit any of them completely so I decided I'd post it to all of them. Since the common denominator of all that stuff is me and this is really simply me, sort of trying to explain myself to myself and letting others in on the conversation. Which may very well be some sort of classification for mental instability. But I digress.

For those of you that somehow managed to not see the millions of videos of people dousing themselves with ice water, the #ALSIceBucketChallenge is basically being filmed while dumping a bucket of ice water on your head, posting the said video and challenging a couple of your friends to do the same. It's expected that everyone who accepts the challenge will both get soaked and donate at least a small sum to the ALSA. I myself donated $50 after my shivering experience. It's all in good fun and a pretty good way to help raise some money for a good cause.

There were more than a couple of reasons I decided to accept the challenge when it came my way. Not small among them was that it just seemed like a funny thing to do...being filmed while getting soaked by ice water. Why the hell not? I've done much dumber things in the name of fun. And let me tell you something, it was fun. 3 knuckleheads in a backyard, filming each other getting soaked sounds pretty dumb...and it totally is. But it was fun. I'd absolutely do it again tomorrow and nominate 3 other people in a heartbeat. I would gladly take the dousing from anyone willing to make a donation. If you're willing to donate even $25 to ALSA, I will happily let you pour a bucket of ice water over my head and film it. You can even pick the 3 people that get nominated to do it next.

But the first reason I decided to do it, was in fact excited to be nominated to do it, was I simply wanted to be a part of something positive. If you spend any time looking around you lately, there have been a great many things happening around us that are simply “not good”. We may send troops back into Iraq. The Israelis and the Palestinians are killing each other again. An American journalist was just decapitated in Iraq by a band of militant psychopaths. An unarmed black man was killed by the police in Staten Island (You can dispute anything you want about that situation, but the facts that aren't disputable are that he was unarmed, is now dead and was killed by the actions of those police officers.) Another unarmed black kid was killed by police in Missouri and we're watching the madness that created unfold in real time. (These are just the things off the top of my head at 1AM). And quite honestly, Robin Williams killing himself absolutely rocked me. I'd be lying if I didn't say I had tears running down my face when I found out and there's been a small part of me that's been sad since that day. Am I overreacting some...more than likely. Does that matter at all...nope. It's just how I feel about it. None of those things may matter to you. They all matter to me in varying degrees. And not a single one of those things is remotely positive. So, if by pouring a bucket of ice water over my head, making a donation and hopefully spurring a couple of others to do the same could allow me to be a part of something so clearly positive in the midst of all of that negativity, damn right I was going to do it.

That wasn't the only reason though. Anyone that tells you that your $25, $50, $100 or even $1000 donation to whatever cause makes a difference is completely full of shit. It doesn't. Your donation and my donation and his donation and her donation and their donation...THAT means something. THAT makes a difference. That's how you raise somewhere around $8M in about 3 weeks. My $50 doesn't matter. But my $50, plus $50 from the 3 folks I told, and another $50 from the 3 people each of them told...I'm not going to keep going because I'm going to give myself a headache if I try to do the math. Viral marketing works. And that's what this is. Brilliant, if accidental, viral marketing.

You can poo-poo it if you like. Call it silly. Whatever. I'm glad I did it. I'd gladly do it again. And it kinda sucks that you folks are missing out.

-Mike

www.alsa.org/donate

Beer and Sausage with the Friendliest Folks in Midtown

I've got to say that if a place features beer and sausage as its defining characteristics, there's a pretty good chance I'm genetically predisposed to being a fan. Reichenbach Hall lands right in my sweet spot. Good beer, good sausage and happy people.

The Hall is a big, open room with a lot of blonde wood, big communal tables and smiling people. Nearly everyone there seemed pretty happy with where they were, patrons and employees alike. Initially we sat at the bar for a drink. I discovered Schofferhofer Grapefruit Hefeweizen, this is what breakfast beer should taste like. I'm reasonably sure that I would be thrilled to drink this every morning. The poor bartender was wearing Mork from Ork suspenders. I thought they were fun, but not everyone shares my sense of style.

We were sat at a communal table with a couple of fellas at the other end. One of the guys was quite friendly. His buddy was mildly creepy. The only problem I had with the communal seating was that when the bench is in an uncomfortable spot, you're pretty much stuck with it when others are on the bench already. That's an unfortunate side effect of the idea.

The waitstaff and bartenders were all very friendly and knowledgeable. I heard the bartender, a waitress and even the manager explain things on the menu very clearly. The manager even took the time to answer our questions about the strange people that kept running back and forth outside the door. (It turns out there's a crossfit gym on the corner. These lunatics are jogging up and down 37^th Street instead of being in here drinking beer. Priorities man, priorities!) It's good that the staff is very friendly, because they are a bit slow. But they're enthusiasm kind of makes up for it. At least it did for me.

We started out with a giant pretzel. And I'm not exaggerating in the least when I call this thing “giant”. Utterly

fantastic, I'm pretty sure it was the best pretzel I've ever had. Buttery and light and just the perfect amount of salt. I'm writing about it and a little bit of drool is gathering up in the corner of my mouth. I really wish I had one right this second. We also got an order of Kleinfranks, which is simply a bowl of cocktail franks with some spicy mustard. For some reason Amy was convinced these were pigs in a blanket. I don't know what that reason was, but she thought so. They weren't, so we improvised and created “pigs in a pretzel”. We just tore pieces of pretzel and made holes in them, stuffed them with the mini-franks and dipped it in the mustard. (The mustard is really good, I wonder if it's house-made.) Outrageous, I don't know why this isn't on the menu. It really should be...and I want royalties!

For entrees Amy got the spatzle with Brussels sprouts and bacon. She thought it was overly peppery. I didn't get that at all. I thought it was pretty damn good actually. The sprouts could've been cooked just a bit longer, but I'm just being picky about it. I ordered a Wurst sampler plate. I figured if a place is known for sausage, I want to try as many as I can without soiling myself. So a sampler was the way to go. This particular plate came with a bratwurst, which if you don't know is basically a giant, garlicky frankfurter. Nothing at all wrong with that. There were Nuernberger Wurstel which are thin pork and veal sausage. Slightly drier sausage with an interesting flavor. And lastly a Baurenwurst, which is a farmer's sausage of pork and beef. This one was my favorite. The sauerkraut, unfortunately, had entirely too much caraway. It tasted like wet rye bread. But the red cabbage and the potato salad were exceptional.

All in all, the atmosphere was very conducive to a good time. There was just a happy noise happening all around. Although the music choice was kind of strange. I'd never have thought to play poppy house-type music in a German beer hall. I had a really good time there. I think I'd definitely like to head back there for a night of beer drinking and mild debauchery.

Reichenbach Hall

5 West 37^th Street

New York, NY, 10018

212-302-7744

4am Gyro Cart Tacos (Don't even attempt to do this at 4am.)

I don't really have the slightest idea what made me come up with this.  I watched a Good Eats episode about making gyro.  That might have stuck I guess.  I'm almost always thinking about making tacos.  It's generally easy, good for a couple of meals and tasty as hell when done correctly.  All the main requirements for me to cook something during the week.  On to the show, boys and girls.

Taco Meat

It begins...

1 lb Ground Lamb
2 shots of Chicken Stock
1/2 Red Onion, diced
2 Cloves Garlic, minced
Gyro Cart taco seasoning

Taco Seasoning
3/4 tsp Salt (If you're not using kosher or sea salt,
you're not allowed to use my recipes.  You're simply not worthy.)
1/2 tsp Black Pepper (Freshly ground, Fat Kids!)
1/4 tsp Red Pepper Flake
1 1/4 tsp Marjoram
1/2 tsp Dried Rosemary (Ground with a mortar and pestle.)
1 tsp Cornstarch

It continues...

Cucumber Kalamata Salsa
1 Medium Cucumber - peeled, seeded and diced
30 or so Kalamata olives - seeded and roughly chopped
1 Garlic Clove, minced
1/2 tsp Salt (Don't make me tell you again!)
1/2 tsp Black Pepper (Grrrrr...)
3/4 tsp Marjoram
2 shots Olive Oil
1/4 shot Red Wine Vinegar
Juice from 1/2 lemon

A bit more...

Sauteed Zucchini
1 medium Zucchini - sliced lengthwise, about 1/8" thick
Salt
Pepper
Olive Oil

The rest.

The Rest
Flour Tortillas (Did I really need to tell you this?)
Hummus (Normally I make my own.  I was too lazy tonight.)
Iceberg Lettuce, shredded (Needed something crunchy.)

 Step 1: Get yourself a beer.  Open it.  Take a sip.


Step 2: Heat 1 1/2 tbsp canola oil in skillet over medium heat.  When it starts shimmering, add the red onions with a pinch of salt and pepper.  Cook until just starting to brown, 3-5 minutes.  Add lamb and garlic with another pinch of salt and pepper.  Cook until the meat is broken up and browned.  About 5 more minutes.  Discard all but about 1 tsp of the fat that accumulates in the pan.  I used a teaspoon to do it over the sink.  It's tedious, but better than oily meat.  Add taco season and broth and bring to a simmer.  Leave uncovered and allow to simmer for 5-7 minutes, until the "sauce" begins to thicken a bit.  Remove from pan into whatever container you're keeping it in.

Step 3: Take more sips from your beer.

Taco architecture

Step 4: Wipe out pan.  Add 1/2 tbsp olive oil to pan.  Wait for it to shimmer.  Season one side of sliced zucchini with salt and pepper.  Add to pan seasoned side down.  Season other side while in the pan.  After 3 or 4 minutes, check for browning.  When you see it starting, flip slices over.  Brown those sides too.  Remove from pan.  Keep the heat on.

Step 5: Heat tortillas in pan.  About 10-15 seconds per side.  Cover with a damp paper towel.

Step 6: Gather all the goodies.  Evacuate to your eating area.  Begin building.  Spread hummus inside a
tortilla, add 2 slices of zucchini, taco meat and salsa.  Fold up tortilla, add some shredded lettuce on top.

Step 7: STUFF YOUR FAT KID FACE! 

Mmmm...tacos and beer!

Mediocrity Has A High Price

 The Good Friday tradition of meat-sinning with Annie is one of my favorite traditions of all time. Every year, on Good Friday, Annie and I go out and enjoy a rich, bountiful meal centered around charred cow. Beautifully cooked, red in the middle, earthy charred cow. It is everything that is right with the world. Your day may have sucked. Your week, month or year could have sucked. Someone could have kicked you in the balls (sorry ladies, there really is no comparison for me to use for you) 4 hours earlier...but if there's a perfectly cooked porterhouse, a glass of whiskey on a table in a nice restaurant and a good person sitting across from you to share it with...all is about to be right with the world.

For a couple of years Annie and I were going to the same place yearly for our sinful jaunt. But our previous haven of inequity was to up and down as far as quality, so we decided to take our devilish show on the road. After a bit of searching, and deciding we wanted to go to someplace entirely new to us, we settled on Costata. What better place for meaty indulgence than an eatery whose name means “rib eye” in Italian? As it turns out, there are better places.

When we arrived for our 7:15 reservation, there weren't very many parties seated. But, as I've come to notice lately, dinner time seems to be getting later and later for most folks. As the last handful of times I've been out to eat, restaurants aren't really starting to fill up until after 8, sometimes after 9. I couldn't imagine it being a good idea to have a big, steak dinner after 9pm. But that's just me. Initially, our server was a touch overbearing. He was a little to eager. And while I prefer this to a server that disappears, it is distracting when you're conversing with someone only to be interrupted by an over-eager waitstaff. It was also a little unnerving that when the waitstaff wasn't helping anyone they seemed to gather against one wall near the center of the dining room and line up facing their guests. It reminded me of a murder of crows sitting on a power line plotting something evil on unsuspecting travelers stranded on the side of a rarely traveled highway. This was somewhat exacerbated by the upstairs dining room (there was another one downstairs that seemed to be blocked off for some reason or another) feeling somewhat snug. Despite the classic rock playing (which I also found an odd choice) and the bustle of a busy room, it was still entirely too easy to catch snippets of all the conversations surrounding us. I'd have likely felt less murderous towards the douchey foursome seated next to us if I hadn't heard one of them say to their server “We absolutely must meet the chef, he insisted we come see him when we met him at the Food and Wine show” or knowing that they had a strenuous game of squash. (Who the fuck plays squash!? Yeah, I'm judging. So what?) These things seemed to stop once the dining room filled up and everyone got busier. We wound up really liking our waiter in the end. He was very personable as it turned out. It also seemed off to me that you had to take an elevator down two floors to use the restrooms. Just another small thing that stuck out as off-putting to me. These things might seem a little nitpicky but they're generally not an issue at the better places. They're the things that set great restaurants apart from average ones.

Speaking of judging, on the other side of us from the squash-player and the chef-meeter were a somewhat younger foursome. Along with two Malaysian-looking women (I couldn't help joking that we found some of the people from the missing plane.) one guy in that foursome was wearing an FDNY t-shirt and the other was wearing a hoodie. Both were wearing sneakers. Now I'm not really a stickler for dress codes and such. I'm all about comfort. But under no circumstances is it OK to go to a steakhouse wearing sneakers and a t-shirt! If you're going to a steakhouse, you're signaling to the world that you're a grown-up and you appreciate the finer things life has to offer you. Dress the part! Fuckin' douchebags. Moving on...

Getting to what is obviously the most important part...the food.

When you set out to purposely do evil and the first thing you're served upon sitting at your table is a piece of fluffy focaccia and a bowl of whipped lardo flavored with olive oil and rosemary, you're well on your way to becoming the devil's favorite demons. Whipped lardo is basically meat butter. It's rendered back fat from a pig flavored with garlic and vinegar. Then they add some flavored olive oil to it at the table. That's right, they flavor the fat with...Even...More...Fat. Simply amazing. Unfortunately, it was the best thing we ate. Not that anything was bad, just that nothing was great. And most things were average.

We started out with an octopus and porkbelly dish and sweetbreads. The octopus was very good, the pork belly...not so much. It didn't taste much like pork, just fat. Not even porky fat, like it should have tasted. I'd have been much happier with more octopus instead. The sweetbreads were very subtle. At least that's the consensus Annie and I came up with. All it really tasted like was fried something. As neither of us have ever had sweetbreads (we broke our cherry here) we didn't know what they're supposed to taste like. But I feel safe in assuming that they shouldn't taste like nothing.

This thing is really is sinfully gorgeous.  Good pic, Annie.

Since we were out for steak, steak is what we ordered. We got the Costata. I feel like if you're going to a “high end” restaurant for the first time, you might as well order what they're known for. And I can't imagine what's more clear than ordering a dish with the same name as the restaurant. The Costata is a bone-in rib eye for two. Of course, we ordered it in medium-rare. (If you're ordering a steak at a steakhouse cooked anything higher than medium, you're wasting your money. Just stay home and eat a TV dinner.) On the side we ordered baby zucchini, crispy red potatoes and fried artichokes. I really liked the zucchini, which are served in a bagna cauda vinaigrette (garlic, oil and sardines...it really is wonderful). The potatoes were OK. I didn't dislike them but that's the best I can say about them. The artichokes were a waste of time. They might as well have been potato chips as much as they tasted like artichokes. The rib-eye was very impressive looking. Perfectly cooked and laid out next to a fierce looking monster of a bone. (There were a couple of times I considered using that giant bone as a club to beat the t-shirt guy or the squash player) It wasn't a bad steak, folks. But it wasn't a great one either. Truthfully, it wasn't even a good one. It was an OK steak. Both ends of the steak were a bit tough and I was surprised by how much gristle was in the meat. When I pay this much money for a steak, I expect something near perfection. That's not what we got. The flavor of the steak was pretty good. Slightly gamey, almost funky. I liked that.

After dinner, even though it was somewhat disappointing, we tried dessert. Annie seemed pleased with her gelato, that the waiter helped her choose. I really liked the fruit torte that I got which had a ricotta mousse on an almond cake with some fresh berries and a blueberry limoncello sorbet. The coffee was excellent.

In all, I've got to say that I was pretty disappointed in Costata. I came in expecting much better. And after spending more than I ever had on a meal in a restaurant I'd have hoped for more. This was a very expensive, average experience. Truthfully, the company saved the night. If I wasn't out eating with someone I like being out with, I'd have been angry at the whole deal. Thankfully, your companions make the night, not the restaurant. I didn't hate the place, but there was nothing there that would make me want to go back. Annie and I will be looking for another new place to sin next year.

Costata

206 Spring Street

New York, NY, 10012

212-334-3320