Joe Ray

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Kill Soup Dumpling!!!

NEW YORK CITY

Years ago, when I cooked at the Left Coast’s Betelnut, a hidden army of wizened Chinese men would come in to roll dumplings in the basement. These quiet, artistic men were lost in their craft, turning dough into flat discs that, with a twist of the fingers, would encase whatever filling they put inside them: crustaceans, meat, vegetables, love.

They would make what seemed like thousands at a time and, unlike the other cooks in the kitchen, once that task was done, so were they.

Lucky bastards.

My first visit to Joe’s Shanghai was part of a get-to-know-you weekend with a former sweetie’s parents a decade ago. Then as now, there’s a reason the grease-splattered walls are festooned with pictures of mayors and glitterati with their arms swung around the owners: Joe’s dumplings are the bomb.

Instead of searing something (like a steak) and hoping all the tasty juices stay inside, here, the pork and crab goodness is held neatly inside the dumpling.

Skewer one with a chopstick and sip the juice that fills the spoon, or take a bite and blush as it runs down your chin.

Shudder with happiness as you swallow.

Joe’s Shanghai
http://www.joeshanghairestaurants.com/ - while on their site, do not miss the “Kill Soup Dumpling” video.

Three Locations – I went to Chinatown - MAP
9 Pell Street
New York, New York 10013
+1-212-233-8888

| More

Saturday, October 03, 2009

New Forms of Pie Slinging

NEW YORK CITY

Alystyre had been wearing her brand new, straight-from-Barcelona pink espadrilles for about an hour when the waiter launched a pizza onto them.

You’d think it would happen in slow motion: the pizza wobbling back and forth in the waiter’s hand and both of them wide-eyed for the impending disaster. Instead, it was over in a flash with the pie on her shoes.

Spunto’s staff handled it perfectly. The manager whisked Alystyre away, dabbing her duds with a towel soaked in mineral water for a good 20 minutes. In the meantime, they sent a new pitcher of beer over to our table of six.

The pizza, particularly the thin-crusted mushroom version, laced with a judicious splash of truffle oil (something I don’t usually go in for) was the best we had while in the city, easily trumping the Lombardi’s we had on another night.

The bill, which included three pizzas, two pitchers of beer and a Coke had a big “X” through it. Normally, it would cost about $20 per person. Our total: $0.

We left a big tip.

Spunto - MAP
65 Carmine St.
New York
www.spuntothincrust.com
+1 212 242 1200

La Manual Alpargatera Espadrilles - MAP
C/. Avinyó, 7 - 08002 Barcelona
Tel. 93 3010172
www.lamanualalpargatera.com

| More

Sunday, September 27, 2009

BURGERS FOR BREAKFAST—THE NEW YORK CITY BURGER ATTACK PART I

MANHATTAN

By Joe Ray

“The Shake Shack?” asked a friend, “That place is a gimmick.”

I brought another friend when I went. We had burgers for breakfast.

That might be a bit of a stretch, but not by too much. We got there at around 11. On a nice day, the Shack has a line that stretches clear across Madison Square Park. I have no idea how long you’d have to wait, but I’ve got no desire to find out.

We ordered two cheeseburgers and two black and whites and, feeling generous, I told my pal I’d pick up the tab.

“Twenty three dollars,” said the woman at the register.

Ai-yeeee!

It’s still worth it as a special treat. Plus, it’s a good burger and I had struck out looking for really good burgers on a recent trip to the Pacific Northwest. It’s not perfect, but there’s a friend, a seat in the park and a happy mouthful.

Shake Shack - MAP
Madison Square Park (not to be confused with the faraway Madison Square Garden)
www.shakeshacknyc.com

| More

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

HOT ICE IN RED HOOK

RED HOOK, BROOKLYN

I was late for an interview at Fort Defiance.

I took the subway. I took a bus. I ran.

I was also hungry.

While I was running, I passed the Brooklyn Ice House and it was about that time when I smelled the barbecue.

The owner was sitting on a bench out front with some friends and I asked if I could get a quick pulled pork sandwich. Truthfully, the three of them looked so relaxed and friendly, I just wanted to sit with them for an hour.

The owner brought me inside - fantastic and saloon-like, a bar and a place to hang out. I watched a father and daughter sitting at in the corner, playing Rock’Em Sock’Em Robots.

My favorite part? At a serious beer bar, I asked what the owner would recommend to go with my sandwich.

“PBR”

Pabst Blue Ribbon.

She could have said something that cost twice as much - and I would have enjoyed it - but for a guy who’s running late and might not have a ton of time to appreciate what he’s eating, she stuck with something good. And cheap. My whole mini-meal cost $7. Woohoo!

Good thing she didn’t ask me to marry her.

Brooklyn Ice House - MAP
318 Van Brunt Street
Brooklyn
+1 (718) 222 1865

| More

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Blowing Off The Zephyr

PARIS

I recently moved to a neighborhood where I don’t know where to eat… disconcerting for a food writer.

At the end of a rainy Monday in the center of town, both places I wanted to go for steak frites were closed. I retreated to my neighborhood, dragging my friend behind me and getting to the point where we couldn’t make a decision.

We circled two places, exhausted and not really caring anymore, finally settling on a place that seemed pretty but expensive (Belleville’s Le Zephyr, for the curious).

We sat and picked out our steaks and I did the math; it was going to cost 80 euros for a meal we really didn’t care about.

I looked across the table and said: “Chinese takeout and cheap beer?”
We got up immediately.

Best decision of the week.

| More

Monday, August 17, 2009

Pass The Maté

PARIS

Le Fumoir is a melting pot for the mid-level hoi-polloi. At any given point, you might bump into the waitress who couldn’t care less, the impeccably-dressed writer who’s actually getting something done, the maître d’ who says ‘I am a snob’ simply in the way he adjusts the blinds, smiling bartenders, tourists who realized they’ve lucked into a good find and a woman who’s got a good 25 years on her lover, both looking happy as clams. (I’ve recently learned that her breed is known as a cougar. Rrrow!)

There are lots of non-client quirks for better and for worse: a Costes-brothers-of-the-1950s style space with big, beautiful lacquered bathrooms, paired with a vaguely Asian menu theme. And maté. Surprisingly good maté, served in a big gourd with a bombilla and a big iron teapot of hot water.

Most places have a clientele you can lump into a group, but here in the middle of town, a stone’s throw from the Louvre’s Cour Carré, it’s what the French would call Le Melting Pot.

It shoudn’t stick.

It sticks.

Pass the maté.

Le Fumoir – MAP
www.lefumoir.com
6 Rue de l’Amiral de Coligny
Paris
+33 (0)1 42 92 00 24‎

| More

Friday, August 07, 2009

Pizza Neuf

PARIS – Grey day. The kind that makes you wear extravagant clothing in hopes they’ll create a break in the clouds. Parisians, a thin-blooded lot who put on cold-weather clothing at the drop of a hat, use days like this to break out their scarves and winter coats while the rest of us are fine in a long-sleeved shirt.

If you go out on a day like this, you tend not to stray too far. I rode my bike to meet a friend for lunch at pizzeria Maria Luisa behind the Canal Saint Martin, an area larded with good neighborhood restaurants.

It poured once we were inside, but it didn’t matter. The pizza (red sauce, mozz, anchovy) chased clouds and when I took a spin around the restaurant floor, all the different pies looked just as good. A kid at the table next to us got a kid-sized pizza and I’m pretty sure I didn’t see that on the menu. Nice touch.

Nitpicks: my crust could have been done underneath a bit more, my friend’s salad came with a ricotta that, curiously and distractingly, was slightly sweet. Avoid or refuse the table shoehorned into a dead space by the bathroom.

But these are little things. Using my Sicilian scale, this would have been a very respectable Pizza Sette, on a Parisian scale, however, Pizza Neuf.

Maria Luisa – Pizzeria Napoletana - MAP
2 rue Marie et Louise
75010 Paris
+33 1 44 84 04 04

| More

Saturday, August 01, 2009

Staring Away From The Fresco

PARIS

I love a good place hidden in plain sight. I’d walked by La Fresque, smack in the center of Les Halles, 100 times before a neighborhood friend proposed dinner there a few years back. I still remember trying and ostrich steak for the first time – a perfect presentation to get you over the hump and make you want to try it again because you like it. I also liked the idea of everyone walking by, oblivious to a good find.

A little while ago, we went back for lunch and a 14-euro menu included a light pumpkin flan with a curry cream sauce and a decent steak. My friend, a stickler for a good chevre chaud salad, wasn’t doing cartwheels, but pronounced herself satisfied.

More than that, I liked sitting under the big awning, protected from the rain and watching the world go by.

La Fresque
100, rue Rambuteau
+33 (0)1 42 33 17 56

| More

Monday, July 20, 2009

Spuds & Rocks - Bravas Part II

BARCELONA

Before revisiting this classic, I check directions and find an online guide to Barna that says I might be the only tourist in the place.

Fat chance. Two ladies in the back are flipping through a Time Out guide and above the bar, there’s a framed, two-page spread from the Wall Street Journal about Bar Tomas’ raison d’être: “Splendid Spuds: Spain’s Obsession with Patatas Bravas.”

No matter. For spuds this good, I’m willing to share.

Just remember the Two B’s: Bravas and Beer. Like seafood in Omaha, most of the rest of the offerings (save Coke and Fanta in glass bottles) can be ignored.

The spuds are downy on the inside, crisp on the outside and partially submerged under a blob of aioli from heaven and served by a guy whose voice sounds like a yard of rocks in a cement mixer.

Perfect.

Bar Tomás – MAP
C/ Major De Sarrià 49
08017 Barcelona
932 031 077

| More

Monday, July 06, 2009

Sex Food 3: Tapas of The Stars

BARCELONA – Go to Inopia on any given night and despite the bright lights and bustle typical of many tapas bars, there’s also something a bit bizarre: a bouncer.

It’s a little weird, but though I’m sure there’s a bit of favoritism, the bouncer is mostly there to keep the inside full without drowning the chefs and waitstaff.

Then night we’re there, Tapas 24 and Comerc 24 chef Carles Abellan, along with a chunk of the local 7 Canibales food writers are all waiting in line with the rest of us.

Inside, the lights glare and four of us sit on stools facing some sort of hen/bachelorette party, yet the Cava arrives and tickles our palates and a plate or two of food lands in front of us and is gobbled up – we take on our own momentum.

A cutting board of thin-sliced cooked ham appears and disappears, fried artichoke hearts cradle a quail’s egg and raw fish eggs.

This is before they bring out the big guns.

Lomo de atún a la parrilla con mojo should just be called ‘Kobe tuna.’ The mojo sauce is lost in the shuffle, but the fish, wonderfully fatty, marbled and full of flavor has been grilled, making it smoky, meaty, carnal and crisp.

At dessert, the waiter sprays an anise liquor over a bowl of cherries. There’s a sweet and almost vegetable flavor of the spray, followed by the explosion of the taut cherry skin. The fruit’s sweet and acidic flavors compete for your attention as they fill your mouth and dribble down your chin.

RRRRRowwwww!!! No mas! No mas!!!!

Count on 10-15 euros if you’re feeling peckish and upwards of 40 if you’re hungry and thirsty.

Inopia - MAP
www.barinopia.com
C/Tamarit 104
08015 Barcelona
+34 934 245 231

| More