The Whole is Greater Than the Sum of Its Parts

I walked out of American Whiskey full of glowing thoughts. Blake, Gina (Who happen to be 2 of the finest people to share food and booze with in the history of food and booze. If I could pimp them out as drinking and dining companions, I'd make serious bank.) and I stood outside the door on West 30^th Street with that warm feeling that you only get from being properly fed and just the right amount of inebriated. We had ourselves a fantastic time. We imbibed, consumed and laughed until our faces hurt.

American Whiskey has a nice long bar when you walk in and what look to be comfortable and roomy booths right opposite it. There are tables in the back, which is where we wound up. Exposed brick walls (which I'm a big fan of) and a big set of free standing bookshelves loaded with A LOT of whiskey bottles serving as a room divider round out the rest of the noticeable décor. Someone working there had an excellent iPod playlist going because we were dancing and singing along at the table for the entire 3+ hours we were there. Our waitress (who's name I don't remember...I've got to get better at that) was terrific. She answered any questions we had. Made suggestions whenever asked. She seemed to be having a good time bantering with us a bit whenever she stopped by to check on us. She even brought us a couple of drinks gratis when the bartender made extras for a different order. She knew that's what we'd been drinking and decided we were worthy. I'm sure it didn't hurt that she seemed to have taken a bit of a liking to Blake either.

The Strike Me Dead

Basically, we drank. We drank a pretty goodly amount at that. There was the Strike Me Dead, which was rye, vanilla, pink peppercorns and blackstrap bitters (Blake, who knows all, kindly informed us that blackstrap is a kind of molasses.) I liked this drink a lot. On a whim and put some hot sauce in it and I liked it a whole lot more. Took it to a whole new level. The Whiskey Smash was Evan Williams Black Label, lemon, mint and your choice of fruit syrup. Gina went with cherry which was good and I went with grapefruit, which I thought was better. The Brain Duster, rye, sweet vermouth, angostura bitters and absinthe. Basically this was a Manhattan for Hemingway. It was definitely too absinthe forward, it overwhelmed everything else. I've had much better versions of this drink at Dylan Prime (sadly closed) and at the Minetta Tavern (I was too lazy to write this up, but had a great time there.) Our favorite was the So Damn Fine, Jameson Black Barrel, Jameson Caskmates, Drambuie and reposado. This was the only drink I remember any of us ordering more than once. And lastly and unfortunately leastly was Please Press Play, rye, Single Cut Eric “More Cowbell Please” Milk Stout (which despite being a mouthful to order was the very tasty beer we were drinking alongside our whiskey adventures) syrup, coriander and Door County Hops Bitters. I really didn't like this. It was like drinking a slightly whiskeyfied IPA. Blake didn't seem to dislike it as much as I did. I wouldn't have been able to drink more than the sip I tasted.

Sliders

While we certainly imbibed a great deal of booze, we also ate. If we hadn't, there's no chance any of us would've been able to get up from that table. We had lots of lovely snackies. There was Tater Tot Poutine, which is exactly what you'd imagine. Crispy tater tots covered in gravy and cheese curds. I couldn't stop sticking these in my face. If any one person tried to eat this alone, they'd certainly die of a myocardial infarction before they made it out the door. (It also made me giggle to myself that the curds sort of made a tiny squeaky noise when you chewed them. Don't judge me, it's called Loving Your Inner Fat KID!) Oysters on the Half Shell which came with pop rocks and a mignonette. You wouldn't think pop rocks belong with raw oysters...but they were flavorless and kind of worked. It was pretty weird. And I think there were Fried Oysters but I don't really remember much about them. We also tried a few different sliders. There was the Homer L Ford IV (no idea who that is), Country Fried Sweetbreads, spicy honey and slaw. These were pretty good. The Duck Duck Goose had Duck Confit, Duck Breast and Foie Gras Butter. I expected to love these but didn't. There wasn't any real Foie taste and the duck was a little dry. And theAdobe Chicken, the most basic and the best of the sliders. Shredded chicken, preserved jalapeno and slaw. Great bright flavor. Definitely my favorite.

What's interesting is that I didn't realize until 3 or 4 days later, when I was starting to put my thoughts together to write this, that there were things about American Whiskey that I didn't love. We had such a great time there that it completely overshadowed the negatives. Some of that was because I was out with great company and we likely could have a good time sitting in a park drinking 40ozs of O.E and eating dirty water dogs. But it's also because American Whiskey is most certainly greater than the sum of its parts. I'll be back whenever I'm looking for a bite and a drink before or after doing something at The Garden.

American Whiskey

247 West 30^th Street

New York, NY, 10001

212-967-1070

It Was Worth the Wait...And I'm Never Waiting That Long Again!

I know it's been a long while.  I'm sure you all missed me.  I've been lazy and negligent...and the truth is I've had some fantastic meals that I just never got around to writing about.  That's changed today though.  Welcome to Monte's...

So, for about a year now, every time I would see John and Gina, they'd somehow work it into the conversation how they just had to take me to this restaurant called Monte's. It's this pizzeria/restaurant they discovered on Carroll Street around the corner from their tattoo shop. (I was going to call it a tattoo “parlor” but it just sounds ridiculous in my head.) This Monte's had been mentioned to me at least a dozen times and I had completely given up any hope of ever setting foot inside the establishment. After all this time, I should be forgiven is I thought this place was as real as the Easter Bunny, Brian Johnson's Canadian girlfriend (If you don't get that, you may be too young to be reading this.) or a compassionate conservative. However, on the day after we all went to a raucous 40^th birthday party where some of us danced with plastic skeletons and we drank Bay Ridge dry of whiskey... After Gina spent the day making her stunning debut as a runway model... After John and I made our spectacular debut what looked to many as gay parents, I was finally gifted with a visit to this Snuffleupagus of restaurants. And it was worth the wait.

As with most places John and Gina frequent, when you walk in, you're greeted with a handshake and a smile. John immediately becomes the mayor of pretty much any place he visits more than 5 times. Monte's was no different. All of the staff were very friendly. The waiter made it a point to include John and Gina's 3-year old, Chloe...who seemed to be pretty thrilled with the margherita pizza that she had. The only complaint I can even think of about the restaurant was that it was a bit dimly lit for my tastes.

The Bresaola Pie...ours had a lot more spinach.

We adults decided on a small pizza as an appetizer and then regular entrees for dinner. I was told

immediately after agreeing to this idea that we were getting the Bresaola pizza and that was that. When you're given a a “suggestion” as fervently as I was given that one, you don't argue. Am I ever glad that I didn't. Before I even bother telling you what was on the pizza, let me tell you how amazing the crust was. Monte's makes their pizzas in a wood-fired oven and the crust is just perfect. It's slightly chewy with a little bit of crunch to it in places and just slightly tangy. Typing the words is making me yearn for it. OK...so the Bresaola pizza has mozzarella, mushrooms, baby spinach, bresaola (which is Italian air-dried beef for those of you not in the know), parmagiano cheese and truffle oil. This was a magnificent pizza. Normally, I'm annoyed by salad-ish type pizza with a bunch of leaves all over it. It just doesn't look like pizza. And when they brought this pizza out and I saw it, I was annoyed. Then I ate and I didn't care at all what it looked like. I just wanted to eat it...forever. John and I also split a few really excellent Prosciutto Balls. A lot of places make them and they're disgusting greasy cheese balls. This were actually perfect. No grease at all. Crunchy outside and creamy heaven inside. If you hadn't guessed, I was already loving Monte's.

Not to be forgotten, we did get entrees. John and Gina both had Rigatoni Bolognese that I didn't get to try, but their plates were as clean as when they came out of the dishwasher when they were done. That's got to say something. I had Garganelli All'anatra which was a bigger penne-like pasta with roasted duck ragu, truffle oil and mascarpone cheese. Unlike the pizza, I could not eat this every day...but I was thrilled to be eating it on Sunday. So fantastically rich and indulgent. The duck was incredibly tasty. I'm not always a fan of mascarpone, as it can be too sweet for my taste. Not in this case at all. This was almost an alfredo gone wild.

To give you an idea of the impact this excellent food had, the majority of this sprang fully-formed from my brain like Athena the goddess of wisdom at 2am. I jotted most of this down deliriously in the dark on a pad I keep on my bedside table. I promise you I will be going back to try more of this menu. I can't wait to eat more pizza!

Monte's

451 Carroll Street

Brooklyn, NY, 11215

718-852-7800

Just tell 'em John and Gina sent you. I'm sure they'll know who you mean.

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