Ballin' at Balthazar

I've had tons of reminders of Balthazar in my 8 years living in New York. Its the kind of restaurant that men respect and bring women to glee. It is certainly a Soho fixture and a New York City landmark. Its red awning is unmistakable and its next door bakery fills the street with the delectable aroma of butter and dough. I knew that one day, my day would come....

On this day, it was unexpected. We were, as usual, starving after a long day of work when we decided to meet up in Soho to run a few errands. As we passed by Balthazar, a smile widened on both of our faces and we figured "there is no way we'll get a table now".... but we thought we'd give it a shot. We walked in, beaming, and requested a table for two. They told us that there would be a long wait for the next table available table. Our smiles persisted; within seconds, they offered us a table near the bar which had vacated. Within two minutes, we went from defeat to ecstasy as we sat down. We shared laughs as we admired the bustling restaurant, its smells, vintage branding and impeccable design.

We decided to share the skate and branzini plates. The branzini was well prepared, but not very memorable. The skate, on the other hand, quickly turned into one of our favorite dishes of all time. Served with piquillo peppers and pine nuts, we believe the perfectly crisp skate was lightly pan fried in salt and butter. The result was soft, silky and delicious morsels of fish that are unforgettable. We capped off the meal with a caramelized ricotta banana tart which set us off into never-never-land.... and cemented the mystique of Balthazar in our minds forever.

All Dressler'd Up

Searching for a restaurant in Williamsburg is no easy task. The different layers of options, from price ranges, to cuisine, to motif presents a palate of diverse options. We wanted to choose something special to top off our amazing day in Brooklyn.

The menu and reviews of Dressler drew us in. Its proximity to a few of the nightspots we wanted to try made it an easy choice. The restaurant's mirrored halls gave space and depth to the narrow venue. The decor felt slightly more trendy than our usual taste, and the service was spotty, making us wait over 20 minutes for our bread and water which definitely brought out the beast in both of us.

Eventually, the food tamed our growling with its simple, hearty, American fare. To start, we had the diver scallops fixed with sunchokes, cauliflower and bacon... finished with wild striped bass, leeks, chanterelles, and truffled sherry vinagrette. Beautiful menu options that were decently executed, in a nice setting. Felt like Manhattan transfixed in Brooklyn, which left us slightly longing for a more authentic experience, either way.... The highlight: dancing off the food at nearby Bembe, a hot latin bongo-drumming nightspot just two blocks away...

Whats up Doc

Sometimes, the best things in life just pop up on you, and you just fall in... such was the case when we fell into Rabbit Hole, a quaint Williamsburg fixture set deep in the heart of Bedford Street.

The table runners were affixed to the kitchen service window which set the entire space a sizzle. The scarves, jackets and sweaters were flying off, but the feeling remained warm and serene. The restaurant valued vintage relics and ascetic purpose: small soda bottles, classic sandwiches, set against unfinished brick.

The inattentive service tried our patience, but we were immediately pacified when our burger and reuben finally arrived. The reuben had juicy, thick cut corned beef and the burger had a homemade taste. The vintage floors of tarnished mahogany squeaked under our foot steps and the garden outside looked inviting. The feeling was classic Brooklyn, and it was a perfect lunch stop for Williamsburg day-goers to hole up and rest their paws....

We 2, Flee 2, Brooklyn Flea!

As a first stop on our rainy Brooklyn weekend, we stopped by the famous Flea Market in Fort Green.

Our hunger brought us to the mexican stand, where we got some homemade fish tacos. The fish was battered on order, and cooked in a tabletop deep frier in front of our eyes. The result was a bit bland, but the salsa verde and red cabbage definitely helped! Set against the gray skies, the colors of our plate seemed even more vibrant and saturated!

Our next food stop was the south American stand, where we got cheese and jalapeno stuffed corn pancakes (cachapas)... now, these were greasy but absolutely delicious treats that made us feel like we were in the streets of Venezuela.

Nice and full, we wandered around the event... the rains brought in less vendors and crowds, which set the tone for a nice leisurely stroll. We were enchanted by the globe terrariums, each with their self sustaining eco-systems of wildlife. At that moment, with our stomachs full, enjoying the sites, sounds and smells, amongst the diverse crowd, we realized that the Brooklyn flea was a terrarium of its own and all at once, we felt satisfied and complete.

Gemma some mo'

Driving from Brooklyn via the Manhattan Bridge back to my apartment on 22nd street has become a regular ritual for me and Sara... for the past 7 months, each time we drive through Bowery Street, I've told Sara "I've gotta take you to Gemma"... Finally, our time had arrived.

As you enter the beautiful space, laden with wooden fixtures, Edison-bulb candelabras and antiquated Italian furniture, the warm glow is immediately soothing.

Its the type of restaurant that serves you warm focaccia, with a carafe of NY's finest tap water, as soon as you sit down. The food isn't very innovative, but its simple and well-prepared. You have your choice of antipasti, crostinis, pasta and whole entrees.

After making new resolutions, we decided to be budget conscious that day. We ordered a small meal to share, consisting of the Tricolore salad, Caponata crostini, Branzini and just one glass of delicious Montepulciano wine. The waiter was amazing, and poured us 2 full glasses despite just ordering one glass. The food was flavorful, authentic and fresh. A great stop that brings a new memory to our usual route home....

Cha-ahhhh...

In my family drinking tea is a household ritual. After school my sister and I used to curl up on the couch and engage in typical teenage gossip while recounting our daily dramas. In the evenings my mom made tea to gather the family from our respective corners of the house. Having lived away from my family home for 11 years now and lived with countless roommates, I've always sought to continue this ritual wherever I am (possibly force-feeding tea to a roommate or two).

But alas, I have found a family that also honors this tea-drinking tradition. Visiting Ronak's family for the first time, riddled with nerves, I was greeted with kindness and a cup of steaming hot chai. While ordinary to them, chai is a novelty tea in my home, where Lipton is the norm. The experience inspired me to recreate the chai using Ronak's family recipe, one that is simpler than I would have expected: a blend of loose black tea, water, milk, grated ginger, fresh mint and sugar. A simple formula that stirs up a nostalgic sense of home.

The Other Side of the Coin...

On our first date, I whisked Sara away to some art galleries in Chelsea. Our favorite was an exhibit that arranged wooden colored pencils into sweet symphonies, as we whispered the same into each other's ears. As our senses enthralled, so did our appetites (naturally). For dinner, there were two choices... we flipped a coin and ended up at the uber romantic candlelight bistro, "Allen & Delancey"...

So, on our six month anniversary.. I decided to surprise Sara by going to the other side of the coin, Cafe Cluny. Set deep in the heart of the West Village, Cafe Cluny is a modern french bistro, famous for earthy home-grown creations, white-walled wooden motif... and most notably, for the giant stuffed tarantula hanging from the ceiling. Unlike Allen & Delancey's intricate flavors and deeply romantic setting... Cafe Cluny was warm, comfortable and easy, much like our relationship has become. Sitting by a perfectly framed picture-window, on a cute street in the West Village, we laughed knowing that the coin always lands where it is supposed to....