Rad Stuff I Love & Think You Will Too: Shake Shack's Coffee and Donuts Custard

Just about a year ago, I left my spacious Union Square apartment for my current and (much) less spacious East Village digs.  I while love my 'hood, my block, my current milieu, this has meant my admittedly all-too-frequent stops at the Shake Shack on my walk home from work came to a screeching halt.  Though just a couple of blocks out of the way now, my new locale adds about 10 minutes of time to the shack-to-freezer equation.  Meaning that, were I to purchase a pint in the middle of summer, I'd be left with a whole lot of custard soup by the time I made it home.  But sometimes things just work out.  I could have been depressed by the sudden chill in the air this morning, by the fact that summer got the fuck out of dodge as soon as it was released from its official duties, but there was a silver lining.  Today is, of course, the last Monday of September, meaning the last time in the near future I would be able to get my grubby paws on a pint of Coffee and Donuts custard, my favorite flavor to cycle through the Shake Shack custard calendar.  No other Mondays have afforded me the opportunity this month to grab a pint on the way home, being all 'summery' as they were.  But today, today was perfect.  My phone told me it was a cool 63 degrees as I left my office this evening, perfect weather for me to hustle back to my apartment in my column skirt with no slit that while very cute if I do say so myself made taking steps larger than 8 inches very difficult.  Though the little bit that melted around the edges of the container will be a bit icy after they freeze back up, the pint was pretty much none the worse for wear.  

And it turns out that you can also get your Coffee and Donuts tomorrow (or today, as it likely is) should you so desire (and you should).  As I stood in the B-Line at Madison Square Park today I noticed a sign with the day's specials, and it looks like the Shack is offering pints of "yesterday's custard." Today's custard will be yesterday's custard tomorrow (yup), and if you like coffee ice cream, and you like donuts, and you like all that is good and true in this world, you should get your ass over to Shake Shack and grab yourself a pint. While the Coffee and Donuts flavor is appears on the Custard Calendar a few times a year, there's no telling when that next time is going to be, and I can say with confidence from experience that it's better to have Coffee and Donuts custard than to not.  

(Shack Shack is apparently now large enough that it must post calorie counts of all its food.  Just do me a favor, buy the custard before you check the figures.)

Shake Shack
Multiple Locations (I visited Madison Square Park)
shakeshack.com
Custard Calendar

Milan, Italy: Del Vuoto

Source

Not sure if you’ve ever been, but August in Milan is like New York City on Labor Day weekend, except the exodus lasts for an entire month.  The majority of the city’s population heads off on month-long holidays.  So when I did some research into where to eat when I was there solo that first week of August, the first couple of places to pique my interest were already closed for the August holiday.  Luckily, one of the place I’d heard about was open until the 11^th, and so on Saturday night I enjoyed my own company at Del Vuoto. 

Del Vuoto, meaning the vacuum, is so named because of the heavy reliance on the sous vide cooking method.  Nearly everything served is given the hot bath treatment.   The restaurant is nestled away in a distinctly non-touristy area of Milan, about a 20 minute walk west of the bustling Navigli area.  There were no English menus to be found and the owner and waiter didn’t appear to be used to addressing English speakers.  Music played softly in the background, complementing the buzz of Italian heard all around me. 

Dining alone can sometimes be an awkward endeavor, particularly in a higher-end establishment.  Not the case at Del Vuoto.  I was directed to my table, which had already been set for one because I had e-mailed to make a reservation the night before.  Enrico, the proprietor with whom I’d e-mailed, could not have been more gracious.  He offered me a glass of prosecco on the house before guiding me through the rather complicated menu.  While by no means an Italian speaker, through my extensive dining experiences, in New York and abroad, I've gained a pretty solid handle on what I'll call 'menu Italian.'  This was something far beyond the purview of what I was used to, as the menu was littered with lesser-known ingredients and nontraditional cooking methods.    

Salt cod amuse.

After Enrico poured me the prosecco, the waiter greeted me with an amuse bouche of cod mousse with olives.  It was fishy, smoky and overall just plain good. 

Once I was through with my prosecco, I went with a Sicilian white, the name of which I can’t recall.  Though the menu didn't list by-the-glass options, Enrico was more than happy to open a bottle to pour me a glass since it was obvious I wouldn’t be finishing a bottle on my own (he clearly doesn't know me).  The wine was lovely with my first course, octopus with smoked eggplant puree and toasted breadcrumbs. 

Let's pretend this isn't the worst picture ever taken, k?
This octopus is undeserving of such pathetic treatment.

Now, I’ve eaten a lot of octopus in my life, and this might just have been the best I’ve had.  Incredibly tender from the sous vide and sporting a nice crispy exterior from a post-bath sear.    The eggplant was puree lent only a whiff of smoke, just enough to make you notice it, but not so much as to overwhelm, as smoked things are wont to do.   The breadcrumbs were rather flavorless and could have used a hit of salt, but they served their intended function of lending texture to the dish.  A healthy glug of olive oil completed the dish and made for some good bread dippage at the end.  I could have used a bit of acid, like some tomatoes or olives, but the dish overall was truly great. 

A slightly better pic of the octopus plucked
from Trip Advisor

My empty plate was whisked away and I was left to observe those around me.  The couple to the left of me sat in pronounced silence for well over the majority of their meal.  So did I, of course, but I signed up for it and was quite enjoying myself.

Vacuum-cooked turbot

I moved on to the turbot, served with dilled potatoes and braised fennel.  Though I love the effects of sous vide, I will always be just a little bit weirded out by the shapes proteins often take on during the process.  My fish was tender and moist as hell, but the effects of the vacuum-sealed bag in which it’d been cooked were readily apparently, its shape distorted and pinched where the bag had come down around it.  The fish was seasoned merely with salt and showered with olive oil to let the fresh, clean flavors of the fish come through.   The accompanying potatoes had also taken a plastic-wrapped bath and they tasted of nothing but pure potato; as a girl who used to eat slices of raw potato (yea, I know), these were potatoes I could get behind. 

The incredibly warm service continued after my entree was whisked away.  I was brought a dessert menu, and decided to order the most obscure thing from it, chocolate with a sorbet of something that, even translated into English, I'd never heard of before, which I was drawn to because it was described as bitter.  But before that was brought out, Enrico stopped by to hand me a glass of lovely dessert wine on the house, and to gab a bit more.  

Chocolate with...something.  You're welcome.

Then, dessert, the chocolate taking the form of a more luxurious, super-rich pudding littered with chunks of chocolate meringue, offset entirely by the refreshing, bitter bite of the sorbet.  I had no idea what it was made from, but I couldn't really have given less of a shit.  It was delicious.  

Though certainly not the most traditionally Milanese of meals, I can't really speak highly enough about this restaurant.  While the food wasn't flawless, it was very well-executed, really quite good, and given the quality of the ingredients and the portion size, really quite affordable.  The effusive service and obvious zeal of the owner and the staff just made the meal that much better.  

Del VuotoVia Giambellino, 12, Milano 

+39 02 94555592 

For reservations e-mail info@delvuoto.com 

Lula's Sweet Apothecary

Peanut butter chip atop
vanilla with raspberry and brownie

I’ve discussed it here before, but there was a time where I shunned meat. And cheese.  And eggs.  Though my quasi-veganism lasted but two or three short months, I learned a good amount.  I learned that it is possible to eat a varied and healthful, even exciting, diet devoid of animal products.  I learned that I like being a contrarian, which is perhaps not my best quality.  I also learned, perhaps most importantly, that there is some really fucking good vegan ice cream out there.  Sure, there are a lot of vegan facsimiles of typically dairy and meat-laden goods.  Some of it is absolutely atrocious, its mere existence a disservice to vegans and vegetarians everywhere.  But some of it is completely delicious in its own right, vegan or otherwise. 

It’s no secret that I love ice cream.  I have at least a little bit of it, even if it’s just a spoonful or two, every day.  Vetting the ice cream situation was necessary before I took the plunge into my short-lived quasi-veganism (that's a lot of qualifiers right there...).   Throughout my testing, I ran into quite a few awful ‘frozen non-dairy desserts,’ but the good ones, man, they’re good.   Take, for instance, Lula’s Sweet Apothecary, an old-school soda fountain type place.  It feels like where Archie would’ve taken Betty (or Veronica) for a date if they lived in Portland in 2012 instead of Riverdale in the 1950s.   

Good vegan ice cream is not good “for vegan ice cream,” but just plain good, sans qualifiers.  The stuff at Lula’s is among the best ice cream I’ve had, vegan or otherwise.  The hard ice creams are made from soy, coconut or cashews.  The latter two are the best options, as the fattiness carries over in the best ways possible.  Add to that some intelligently thought out add-ins and spot-on flavors, and you’ve got something special. 

I walked away recently with a double scoop: peanut butter chocolate chip and vanilla with raspberry swirl and brownie, both recommended to me by the fella working the counter.  The peanut butter flavor was super rich, impeccably creamy and just plain delicious; the vanilla tasted much lighter and served almost as the J to my scoop of PB.  Though I could’ve used more brownie chunks, the raspberry rippled through the vanilla in aggressive swirls that served as a nice counterpoint to all of the heaviness in my cup.  The maple walnut, which I’ve had in earlier trips, is also a winner.

Lula’s is not one of those holier-than-thou vegan joints.  It’s not health food. What it is, most meaningfully, is amazing, in both the magical, incredibly rich things done without the crutches of eggs and dairy and in the quality of the product churned out.  Go there; just, go. 

Lula’s Sweet Apothecary
516 East 6th St (b/w Ave A and B)
(646) 481-5851

Newport, RI: Franklin Spa

Unsurprisingly, after our long, drawn out dinners inNewport, we were pretty slow-going in the mornings.  But there were things to do, cliffs to walk, mansions to tour, and we needed to be refueled.  Given the duration and relative fanciness of the previous night’sdinner, we wanted something casual, but (of course) not at the expense of deliciousness.  Franklin Spa showed up on nearly every best-of breakfast / brunch list we came across, so we figured it must be a reliable spot.  So we headed on over and found a bustling breakfast scene.  After a wait of just a few minutes spent ogling the food being ushered past us, we settled into our corner booth, ready to enjoy some straight-up comfort food.

Franklin Spa is the epitome of a greasy spoon - not exactly what I had in mind when I heard the name of the joint.  From the swiveling stools at a counter in front of an open kitchen to the vinyl booths and the no-nonsense yet affable hey darlin’ sort of service you’d expect from a local joint, you just know you're in for an enjoyable meal. 

Most of the time, when I eat out, I am looking to experience new tastes and experiences and discover combinations I’d never have dreamed up on my own.  That’s not always the case for brunch.  Sometimes I am looking to be wowed, but sometimes I just want some comforting food prepared by someone else, someone who has their shit together at the ungodly hour of one p.m. on a weekend day. 

Smoked Salmon Benedict

For me, comfort food at brunch time is found in the form of smoked salmon and poached eggs.  It’s a go-to of mine because it’s relatively healthy (though hello, sodium!), straightforward and simple.  Despite this simplicity, it’s surprising how frequently the dish falls short of its potential.  I suppose I can’t expect busy kitchens to present me with perfectly poached eggs every time, but at the very least I expect to be met with runny yolks.  Diners tend to be well-seasoned egg-slingers, so I put my faith in the short-order cooks behind the counter and ordered a smoked salmon benedict – hollandaise on the side (so sue me, I’m not immune to the threats of butterfat, and it’s impossible to tell just how heavy-handed a kitchen will be with the hollandaise, so I figure it’s best to just apply it, or dunk it, realistically, myself).  The fellas at Franklin Spa did not let me down.  My eggs were perfect – perfectly runny, not a hard bit of yolk to be found, with thoroughly cooked whites.  The hollandaise was lemony and bright, though a bit clunky.  A simple dish very well executed, and served with some well-spiced home fries.

Corned Beef Hash

Robbie opted for the corned beef hash with poached eggs and hollandaise.  What can I say, we were a little sodium-hungry, I suppose.  His plate came teeming with fatty corned beef and browned potatoes. A hangover helper if there ever were one.

Stuffed French Toast with Bananas and Pecans

CF went with the stuffed french toast, which was topped at her request with bananas and pecans.  A solid move.  The battered slices of bread were barely able to contain the mounds of maple-spiked cream cheese within.  This was unabashedly decadent; not as sweet as you'd expect but very difficult to tackle alone.  I was glad I wasn't the one faced with the task, but happy to be able to sneak a taste. 

I didn't photograph CH's dish, but it was a chili and cheese omelet.  CH is to chili as Rob is to hot wings.  If it's on a menu, it's tough for him to look past it and order something else. When he saw it combined with breakfast food, he knew immediately it'd be his.  Bad move.  Learn from his mistake.  Not only did he not enjoy it much, but it repeated on him all afternoon, as if to remind him of his failing.  

That one misstep aside (and I'll put that one on CH, as opposed to Franklin Spa), this was a very solid meal.  It was unpretentious, relaxed and really quite good.  Recommended.

Franklin Spa

229 Spring St.

Newport, RI

(401) 847-3540

Newport, RI: Tallulah on Thames

For our next, and what we’d presumed to be our last, dinner in Newport, Robbie, C&C and I decided to class it up a little bit.  We secured a late reservation at Tallulah onThames, just a few blocks down from where we’d dined the nightbefore.  The space was small but welcoming; dim, but not dark. Dining out as frequently as I do in New York, I kind of forget what it’s like to have space between my table and others.  Like actual, I don’t even have to pretend I can’t hear those two girls talking about their relationships even though I can hear every awkward word, space.  Not only was the space plentiful, but it was airy, simply outfitted and quite lovely. 

Since all of the entrees hovered in the mid-thirties range, we opted for the prix fixe menu, which allowed us to select an appetizer, entrée and dessert from the menu for $50, with supplemental charges for certain dishes. 

Botanica, 2009 Chenin Blanc

 We selected a lovely, very interesting bottle of South African Chenin Blanc – the waitress was apparently a very big fan and doesn’t get asked about it frequently, so she insisted we give it a try.  She did not lead us astray; it was awesome.  I was at first thrown off by the minerality of it, but was hugely converted after a few sips, and we drank far too much of it. 

Tallulah espouses the same farm-to-table sentiment that’s popped up nearly everywhere these days.  Which is not to say I don’t appreciate the movement – I love sitting down with confidence that my meal did not originate in a factory. 

Butter.  Obvs.

I tend to place a disproportionate weight on bread and butter when deciding whether I like a restaurant.  I prefer butter to olive oil (that vegan thing never stood a chance), and I think you can tell a lot about how seriously a restaurant treats its food by the butter – it should be room temperature, maybe on the cool side of room temperature, but it should never be cold, since it should spread easily. And I could tell from this butter that we were in for a good meal.  Sprinkled with fleur de sel, micro greens, and edible flowers, it was just fabulous.  This butter was, ironically, my jam. 

But bread and butter alone do not, unfortunately, a proper meal make.  Since this meal happened over a month ago and I neglected to take a picture of the menu, I am very fuzzy on what was actually consumed, but suffice it to say that everything was quite delicious.  I have a general idea, though, and some pathetic pictures, so here goes anyway.

Baby greens with apples, cheese and other stuff

I started with a baby greens salad with Apples, shallots and blue cheese.  Despite all the distraction in the plating, at its essence this salad was simple, balanced, and fresh. All of the flavors played off of one another and the freshness of the mache really shone through.  

Endives, frisee and beets beets beets

CF started with the other salad option, endives and frisee with beets.  She seemed to enjoy it quite a bit.  

Appetizer win

Robbie and CH went for the broccoli and cheddar veloute.  I am not a fan of cream-based soups, and thinking the veloute would be, if not, cream-based, quite heavy, I opted for the salad, and the second Rob's soup was poured I had serious food envy.  It was awesome.  The cheddar somehow seemed to contribute only flavor, giving a little bit of an edge to what would be an otherwise run-of-the-mill broccoli soup, but did not weigh down the veloute at all.  Rob and CH won the appetizer course.

For the mains, I had been considering the fluke but was told they'd run out.  So I opted instead for the cod, which was a wonderful fallback.  Served with brandade, olives, and a piquillo pepper puree, the fish was cooked fantastically - crispy skin veiling perfectly moist flesh.  Say what you will, call me gross even, but I love crispy fish skin, and I don't give a fuck.  

Cod

Robbie also went with the cod.  Typically, I'd be secretly (and, yes, selfishly) resentful that he hadn't gone with something different so that I could pick from his plate, but since the four of us had been eating from each other's plates all weekend, I knew I'd have a chance to taste a few different things.  

Risotto avec l'arc de courge musquée

CF went with the seasonal squash risotto, which was good but not mind-blowing, and plated far too preciously for my taste.

Beefaroni

CH went for something far heartier - steak (I believe it was flank steak, perhaps?) cooked into a rich sauce.  Piled atop some seriously delicious fresh egg pappardelle, it was the lovechild of italian ragu and beef bourguignon.  I actually really liked the plating of this dish, and the portion was definitely appreciated more by the stomach than the eyes.

Ganache et al

Onto dessert we went.  Since it was Robbie's birthday the following week, the staff graciously put a candle in his dessert.  I don't recall what this dessert was, but I think it was a chocolate ganache with some other business going on.  It was fine, but not remarkable. 

Panna cotta spiked with awesome

What was, remarkable, however, was my coffee caramel panna cotta, with hazlenut crunch and "sweet milk espuma." This was just solid all around.  The delicious little toffee pieces, the little crunchies, reminiscent of the middle layer of the Carvel cakes of my youth, the sweet milk espuma (just call it foam, dude) - all delicious, and the bitterness of the coffee prevented all the sweet from creeping too close to saccharine.

The prices at Tallulah seem rather out of line with the rest of Newport.  The meal was by far our most expensive of the weekend, and from what I understand, the $50 prix fixe jumps significantly during the busy summer months.  While I think the artiness of the plating could have been dialed back a few notches, it did not obscure the fact that the food we were eating was pretty damn great.  

Tallulah on Thames

464 Thames St
Newport, RI

(401) 849-2433

Newport, RI: Brick Alley Pub & Restaurant

About, oh, a month ago (wow, am I behind on these posts), Rob and I took a little weekend jaunt over to Newport, Rhode Island with our friends C&C.  We'd never been before, and we were able to snag a pretty good deal on a vacation home since apparently not many people favor New England beach town destinations in the dead of winter. 

We went armed with a bunch of dining options from my friend Sheera, a trusty source of food recommendations.  We arrived in Newport in time for a late-ish dinner thanks to the trusty I-95 traffic, and wanted someplace casual and good.  Sheera had high praise for Brick Alley pub, and a quick Google search turned up a number of encouraging articles, including the fact that Bon Appetit named Brick Alley’s lobster roll one of the best in America.   

We were pretty voracious by the time we sat down around 9:30, obviously past prime dinnertime, as most of the tables were wrapping up and we were the last to be seated.  We studied the immense menu (and ridiculous drink / beer list) and proceeded to over-order.  

Not even close to actually being a slider, but no less delicious for it

First up, some Ahi Tuna Sliders.  The waitress beamed when we ordered these, and they were good, not life changing by any means, but perfectly tasty and great for sharing  And certainly one of the lighter options on the pub-fare-heavy menu. 

Apparently the progeny of one of the 13 best recipes published by Bon Appetit
in its first 50 years

Next, the Portugese Clams, another dish that Bon Appetit apparently loves, going so far as to name it in its 50^th anniversary issues as one of the 13 best recipes in the history of the magazine (per the note on the menu).  For a little touristy spot with a giant, pages long menu listing among its edibles nachos and spinach artichoke dip, Brick Alley has sure received its fair share of legit accolades.  The clams were delicious – meaty but not chewy, salty but not thirst-inducing, and that broth was utterly chugable.  Reading the menu quickly, we expected chorizo in the dish, but instead found chouriço, a Portuguege sausage that seemed more closely related to kielbasa than chorizo.   One of the 13 best recipes I imagine Bon Appetit published in its first 50 years?  Not sure, but it hit the spot. 

Habanero on the left; normalcy on the right

Robbie has a bit of a wing problem.  He might claim it an affinity rather than a problem, but whenever wings are on the menu, it’s like he has blinders on and can see nothing else.  Typically, the hotter the wings the better for the Robster.  So once I saw habanero wings on the menu, with a disclaimer (“may not be returned due to ‘too hot’”) no less, I knew they’d be appearing on our table.  The waitress, bless her heart, managed to talk Mr. WingFace into going halfsies with the habanero and filling the rest of the order up with the Rhode Island Red Hot Chicken Wings.  

As an attorney, I can vouch for the legally binding nature of this  document.

This turned out to be very sage advice.  If the disclaimer on the menu weren’t ominous enough, the release that Robbie had to sign seemed to seal the deal – he was in for some heat. He made it through a couple of those habanero wings, taming the fire in his mouth with his boozy mudslide; our friend Chris took one for the team as well, also requiring the solace of Rob's cold, creamy beverage.  I’m not a chicken wing fan at all, but I couldn’t resist trying a bite. They were, indeed, hot as shit.  Not wanting to totally kill my taste buds, I kept it at that; Rob admitted that his were useless after those wings. 

Lobstery, New Englandy goodness

But really, I was in it for the lobster roll.  I have a weird thing with lobster rolls.  I love them in theory, but I very rarely order them because I know there’s only so much mayo-slathered seafood I can handle.  When I do order them, I am typically skeeved out by them after the third bite.  And three bites of a lobster roll is hardly a good investment.  But I expected a lot from one named among six of the best in America – I doubt just any mayo-bomb would make that cut.  And in any event, was in the mood for it.  And it was good. Really good.  Big, juicy chunks of lobster, tossed but not drowned in mayo, with a deliciously awesome, buttery split-top bun.  It was utterly enjoyable, even the next day.  But all those apps (and the bingeing in which I’d drunkenly, embarrassingly indulged the night before) did me in; despite my best intentions, I had room for jut a few bites.  Not even enough to make it to the point where hoisting the roll up off of the plate was a viable option.  Thankfully, we were staying in a rental home with plenty of fridge space, so into a doggy bag it went. 

This plate was hubcap-sized

Rob had the generously portioned short rib, which could’ve tasted like hot flaming ass and it wouldn’t have made a difference after those wings.  The bite I stole was salty, but good; the accompanying creamed spinach a fine version of the form.  The majority of this came home with us as well.   I’d be loath not to mention that the short rib came with access to the unlimited salad bar (including bread and soup), which was hardly necessary given the amount of food we’d ordered. 

C&C went splitsies ordered a Buffalo Chicken Salad and Fish Tacos,.  Since both dishes were handily demolished, I’d have to imagine they were well-received. 

  

Far from fine dining, Brick Alley seems perfectly suited to its surroundings. Tasty, plentiful food right in the heart of Newport's tourist drag.  Though we’d long been the only table dining, there was a solid bar scene going, and we didn’t feel rushed out of the place at all.  Then a crowd, bedecked in green and black, some with fuzzy pints of Guiness atop their heads, entered and invited us to join them in the Great Guiness Toast.  Not the types to turn down the chance to take part in setting a world record (or free beer), we accepted; the perfect capper to our admittedly gluttonous meal.  Hey, we’d turned down dessert*, a little beer wouldn’t hurt. 

* I suppose one could argue we’d eaten dessert throughout the meal through the stolen sips from Rob’s many mudslides. I say, irrelevant. 

Brick Alley Pub

140 Thames St.
Newport, RI
(401) 859-6334

NYC: Brushstroke

It was not easily that I settled on Brushstroke for Robbie's birthday dinner.  We dine out a lot, so I wanted to make sure that it was a special meal - something out of the ordinary.  My first choice, since I thought Rob would love it, Torrisi's 20-course chef's tasting menu, was booked solid, and while we were on a wait list, the chances seemed slim to none that we'd be called off of it (and, in fact, they were).  I'd read a lot about Brushstroke, and it seemed like it would be an interesting culinary experience.  I've done tasting menus before, but I'd yet to experience a kaiseki, a series of artistically presented small plates that balance the taste, texture, appearance, and colors of food.  I wasn't expecting to be hit over the head with flavor, as we would have been at Torrisi, but I expected to experience subtle flavor combinations that I might not have seen before.  Sam Sifton gave a glowing review over the summer, and while he's steered me wrong before, I scoured the blogoverse and most people seemed to agree that this place was something special.

(Source)

So it was that we wound up at Brushstroke at 9 p.m. We had to wait for a little while, so we sat and the bar and started in on some cocktails (which would later prove to have been entirely unnecessary).  The decor of the bar is pretty awesome - at first it just looks as if the walls are covered with whatever the wall-equivalent of parquet floors would be, but upon closer inspection, the cross-hatch patterns are made by the pages of books, stacked vertically and horizontally with the spines facing in.  Pretty cool.  Anyway, I went with a cucumber and almond number that was strong yet balanced, and I enjoyed the extra crunch from the smoked almonds. Since I really like almonds (smoked and non-) and booze, so there was little chance of that drink failing for me.  Rob had a ginger thing that was, well, gingery and, uh, boozy?  Yea, I'm doing a great job here.

We sat at the counter by the open kitchen, where we were able to watch the massive team of cooks prep and slice, sear and arrange, making this the third consecutive birthday meal that Robbie and I have eaten at counters (the others being the Chef's Table at Brooklyn Fare (fucking awesome) and Momofuku Ko (also absolutely ridiculous)).  Every motion, no matter how seemingly rote, was entirely deliberate and well-intentioned.  Bouley must run a tight ship.  

Brushstroke has gotten some flak about it's rigid dining room menu, where only an 8-course (regular or vegetarian) or 10-course menu are available.  Since it was a celebration, we went balls-out and opted for the 10-course Early Winter tasting menu.  We asked our waiter about the availability of beverage pairings, and he said he'd fetch the sommelier. This led to the first real misstep in the meal - the sommelier did not stop by until after the first course was served. There was likely little adverse effect of this, though, since the first course was cold, but it seemed out of order and awkward for the sommelier to speak to us for a few minutes about our options while our food sat, already served, in front of us. When we asked whether it was possible to pair every course with a wine or sake, we were presented with a couple of options.  It was possible to order a few half-bottles of wine or sake (he suggested three to complement the different stages of the meal), or, "if we drink a lot", we could have a different wine or sake paired with each meal.  Since we're a couple of lushes, we went for the full pairing. The sommelier was sometimes slow with the delivery and imperfect with timing his pours, but he was very knowledgeable, particularly about sake, for which Rob has a particular affection.  

Hawaiian Hearts of Palm, Broccoli Rabe with Yuzu Mustard Miso

Since this was a couple of weeks ago now, I don't remember much about this dish.  Except that it was cold and the flavors were bright and that, like all the dishes that followed, it was beautiful on the plate.  It didn't blow us away obviously, but I remember eating it without complaint and enjoying it.

Steamed Chawan-mushi Egg Custard, Black Truffle Sauce and Uni

Now this dish, this dish is one I am not soon to forget.  The flavors were so balanced, so restrained, and so perfect.  It was light and tasted unlike anything I'd really had before, which is what I was banking on when I decided on Brushstroke.  The black truffle sauce was understated and earthy and did not overwhelm at all the fresh salinity of the uni.  I'd eat this umpteen times over.

Today's Sashimi

A variety of sashimi was next placed in front of us, tuna, mackerel and yellowtail (I believe) each paired with a different dipping sauce, fresh grated ginger and some kick-ass wasabi.  More places should use fresh wasabi, by the way. The fish was all fresh and delicious, as you'd expect in this sort of setting.  Not life-changing, though.

Lobster Bisque with White Miso and Sake Lees

This isn't the lobster bisque of which Cape Cod memories are made.  This was thinner, with most of the body a result of miso, and as a result, it was packed with umami.  The lobster was generously portioned, expertly cooked, and delicious as lobster can be.  I'd pick this over a cream and sherry bisque any day of the week.

Sea Bass Sushi with Pickled Plum Sauce

I really enjoyed the sushi, topped with teeny droplets of pickly plum sauce, which was pungent enough to actually contribute a good amount of flavor despite its modest application. Rob found the sushi a bit too fishy tasting for his liking; ever the fan of fishy (not obviously non-rancid) fish, I savored these couple of bites.

Today's Oyster with Yuzu Dressing

Here is an oyster.  It was delicious.  

For the next three courses, the diner is asked to choose from a list of options.  Where two options were presented, we obviously each chose one for maximum tastes. 

Grilled Anago and Yam Dumpling with Ankake Sauce 

As we just said we'd have both options and share, it was up to the waiter to allocate the dishes among the two of us.  So it was that for the next course I was presented with the grilled anago and yam dumpling with ankake sauce.  This was really interesting and very delicious. I love grilled eel, so I was pumped when this was placed in front of me.  Add a Japanese hush puppy and I am good to go.  This was awesome.

Miso Marinated Black Cod with Chrysanthemum Leaf Puree

I tried a little corner of Rob's cod, and it was among the better preparations of the now-ubiquitous miso black cod I've tried.  It was meaty and substantial, and got a great blackened flavor from the grill.  

Cherrywood and Chrysanthemum Smoked Duck, Malanga Puree and Chamomile 

I was handed the duck, Robbie the pork belly.  Duck and I are having a moment right now, so our waiter read us properly and set each dish before its more eager recipient. This duck made my duck look like amateur hour (which in all fairness, I suppose it is).  It was tender, and smoky, and slightly sweet, with faint hints of spiciness and some crunch. It was, in a word, fantastic. 

Yuru-kosho Marinated Pork Belly, Sweet Onion Puree, Black Vinegar Sauce

Rob was handed the other option.  I have a limitation on the amount of non-bacon pork belly I can really eat in one go, so I was glad he was given that dish, and the boy has seemingly limitless stomach capacity for pork belly.  He really liked it, and while I can't articulate his precise reasoning for that, I can vouch for his authority on the matter.  

Now here was where there menu presented some difficulty; the "over rice" portion. Whereas the two prior courses has two options, here there were four options, but still only two of us.  Obviously two dishes would be sacrificed and thrown into my memory as Things that Are Probably Delicious but that I Will Never Know. The mixed vegetables with ankake over brown rice was an easy target, particularly since I knew I'd be getting a taste of ankake in the dumpling dish.  By the way, I'm still not precisely sure what ankake is, though a quick google search leads me to believe that it is a "starch-thickened broth with chunks of meat, vegetables or seafood" (thanks Chowhound).  The Salmon was hard to see go, though; R.I.P. Steamed Salmon with Salmon Roe and Aonori Seaweed, I hardly knew ye and your delicious little bursts of roe.

Soft Shell Crab over Rice with Chrysanthemum Petal Sauce

After consulting with our waiter, who I must say was charming and attentive, I went with the soft shell crab.  Once it arrived, any thoughts of steamed salmon dancing around my head were quelled and that first bite vindicated my choice. This was the best soft shell crab I've ever had.  It's not soft shell season here, so who knows where it was shipped in from, and something makes me think that I don't want to know what the carbon footprint of our meal was, anyway.  The crab was meaty, and crunchy, and just flawless.  Yes, there was rice, but it was rice and I ignored it to ensure I was able to finish every last bite, save for the quarter that I (generously, if I do say so myself) bestowed upon Rob.  

Stewed Wagyu Beef over Rice

The beef was flavorful and tender, the sauce not overwhelming, but I couldn't really be bothered trying to ascertain what I liked about it when I was so absorbed in my crab.  

Dessert again presented us with options - though, truth be told, we didn't know what they were.  Thankfully, our waiter was incredibly helpful in guiding us here as well and made suggestions from the choices he'd committed to memory. 

We were also presented with a box of rice crackers that were dusted with a variety of powders, some sweet, some savory, some spicy; all quite interesting. 

Soy Milk Ice Cream with Toasted Buckwheat

After divulging my tendency to shy away from the overly sweet and my general proclivity for salty desserts, the waiter told me matter-of-factly that I would be having the soy milk ice cream.  I couldn't argue with his confidence, and I love me some ice cream.  This was fucking delicious.  The ice cream was savory, just the faintest hint of spice, but the toasted buckwheat was what really did it for me.  It was nutty, salty and downright wholesome tasting.  I really loved it.    

Soy Milk Panna Cotta

For the birthday boy, a soy milk panna cotta with matcha sauce, served with a candle of course.  The panna cotta was also rather savory, and had a great consistency, and sat atop a bed of red bean puree.  It seemed to combine the understated flavors of many Japanese desserts with the sensibility and style for which the French are known.

While the meal didn't come cheap, Rob and I both quite enjoyed ourselves at Brushstroke.  It doesn't have the hushed reverence of Momofuku Ko, or the cool sleekness of Brooklyn Fare, but it is a different experience altogether.  I could have done without the cocktail at the outset, particularly given the amount of booze that we consumed throughout our meal, and likely would have had we not been asked to wait 20 minutes for our seats at the counter to be ready. The meal was quite different from any I'd really had before, and that was what I was hoping for when I made the reservation.  I definitely never thought I'd consume so much chrysanthemum in one sitting, or at all.  None of the flavors at Brushstroke will hit you over the head or send smoke out of your ears, but you'll enjoy a thoughtful, beautiful and delicious progression of tastes, all of which are pretty damn great.

Brushstroke

30 Hudson Street (at Duane St.)

New York, NY 10013

(212) 964-3771