There have been six reviews in the past couple months of restaurants and bakeries within blocks of my apartment in Williamsburg (a neighborhood in Brooklyn, across the East River from Manhattan). I suppose for a Manhattan resident, this wouldn’t be all that odd, but for me, it’s pretty weird. This mecca of hipsterdom is having a bit of a culinary boom, or so it must seem to those from the other boroughs … one would suspect that this would signal the end of the neighborhoods hipster/starving artists days. This brings up an interesting question, at least to me: Can fine dining (and by “fine,” I don’t mean Michilen or Zagat’s fine, I mean high quality) exist in neighborhoods where there isn’t a lot of cash? I think it can and does. What’s interesting though, is when people start paying attention.

Of the restaurants recently reviewed by the Times, initially, most of them had been open for a good chunk of time before their write-up. Everyone in the neighborhood knew about Marlow (which I’ve written about previously here) and DuMont Burger ages ago. e were dining fine long before Manhattan knew about it at these and many more: Diner, Bonita, Aurora, Moto and DOC, to name a few. A couple, though, such as this past review of Dressler, have just opened recently, which leads me to believe the critics are now working to pick these new openings up quickly. Why is that? It may be partially because people who read the paper actually care (NY Times is well-known for its young/urban/liberal/wealthy readership). That would mean that the ‘mainstream,’ for lack of a better word, is moving in. It also means that the character of our fine dining is changing. The artists and hipsters in Williamsburg are not nearly as likely to go to a 2-star restaurant, which is what Bruni awarded Dressler, as they are likely to go to the tiny Pies and Thighs, also reviewed last week in the $25 and Under category.

Pies and Thighs sounds, quality-wise, to be just as good as Dressler (I’m basing this solely on the reviews I’ve read to date; I have yet to try either - no time yet!). The difference is the atmosphere and presentation. Funky concrete backyard dining vs. hand-made iron chandeliers and up-scale bistro-style tile. Artichoke and white bean salad vs. fried chicken and biscuits. These two places serve different clientele, it would seem. The fact that these two reviews ran in the same issue of the Dining Section shows what is happening: two worlds are colliding.

As Bruni points out, people aren’t just going to Williamsburg to go to the famous Peter Luger’s. They’re going for other places now. What he neglects to point out, though, is that these people aren’t traveling, they live there. That said, there’s still the artists and un-wealthy in the neighborhood and they’re still eating at Matamoros and the taco stand under the JMZ train (it’s elevated out there). I just wonder for how much longer.

If you live in the area and are curious to check out some of the other restaurants I mentioned in this post, I’ll try and be ahead of the Times and give some info (and these are just a few, there are tons more):

Diner - 85 Broadway (corner of Berry) - (718) 486-3077
Been around forever, in an old diner. Serves local and season new-American-ish food. Great brunch. Great dinners. I have rarely left disappointed. Same people that run Marlow.

Bonita - 338 Bedford Ave, Brooklyn - (718) 384-9500
Mexican. Again, same people that own Diner and Marlow. It’s dressed up Mexican, but real Mexican. My Californian parents love this place. Wonderful enchiladas, chile rellenos, tacos, and guacamole.

Aurora - 70 Grand St, Brooklyn - (718) 388-5100
Italian. Seriously some of the best pasta that I’ve had in NYC (and I’ve been to Babbo). Nice outdoor area for the Spring and Summer. Great ragu sauces. Gnocchi with truffles (seasonal) is exceptional.

Moto - 394 Broadway, Brooklyn - (718) 599-6895
Under the JMZ. Go here if you miss back-packing around Europe. Dark and cozy, it feels like you’re a Parisian artist. Wonderful food too. Deviled eggs with tuna are great. Brunch items are stand-out.

DOC - 83 N 7th St, Brooklyn - (718) 963-1925
Italian wine bar, more specifically Sardinian. Serve meat and cheese platters (antipasta) that I can’t get enough of. Best part is they make real ‘music-paper bread’ (Italian name is escaping me … anyone?)

Matamoros - 193 Bedford Ave, Brooklyn - (718) 782-5044
Tacos in the back of a deli. Real Mexican. Everyone who has lived in the area for a while knows this place as a quick and cheap place to get a great dinner.

A recent New York Times Dining section devoted much time to the wonderful world of cured pork, although with a somewhat depressing, and totally true, slant. Julia Moskin’s piece, “Dry-Cured Sausages: Kissed by Air, Never by Fire” addresses the ever-incresasing restrictions placed upon traditional cured-sausage makers by the USDA. The USDA has shut down and ceased cured meats from various producers throughout NYC that were not up to code. One of the sadder examples Moskin gives is the case of Il Buco where years of hard work was whiped away when the chef’s entire stockpile of dry-cured sausages was taken away…he even notes that he knew the pig’s names. It’s enough to make a salami-freak cry.

One of the things that I love about cured meats and the reason that it kills me to see the USDA cracking down is the fact that the process is so personal and unique. As the Il Buco story illustrates so well (the owner knew the pigs names), curing meat is much more than just hanging some casings out to dry; it’s picking the right animal, feeding it properly, and then coming up with a very specific spice mixture to make your sausage. Because there are so many tiny things that go differently with each batch, from the spices used to the pig’s diet to what’s in the curing room, every sausage is different. The time and attention artisans spend on cured meat is admirable and something we surely want to encourage.

As it stands, there are plenty of types of cured meat we can’t get here in the States due to federal regulations, the most famous example being Spain’s Pata Negra. With the limitations now forced upon so many domestic sausage makers, are we destined to end up a cured-meat deprived culture?

A rundown of some other highlights in this issue:
More on meat in NY Times: Batali’s Dad’s Seattle based pork-products.

Best burger in Williamsburg, according to the $25 & Under column, is at DuMont Burger. I’ve been many times and tend to agree. Don’t miss the mac and cheese, either!

The return of NYC’s infamous Le Cirque comes May 30th.

Seasonal cuisine: asapargus, by the Minimalist.

With NYC’s brutally hot and humid summers on the way, it’s a good time for the oven’s last hurrah; no one wants it running 2-3 hours at 350-400 degrees. And since we were in the Springtime/Easter/Passover spirit, much like the Lee brothers, we agreed lamb would be a good way to go. We went a totally different direction than the Lees, though. Where they thought North African, we thought French/Traditional. They used a leg, we used loin. I do love the prep they gave their leg of lamb and would love to try it sometime, but I thought it’d be appropriate to supplement “Got A Crowd Coming Over?… “ with an additional idea for lamb. We served this with a spring-inspired risotto (asparagus, chives, parsley, lemon zest and crème fraiche) and green beans with lemon and olive oil. Great for a crowd, cook it while you can!

Lamb Loin with Parsley/Rosemary Persillade
Serves 8-10
6-7 lbs lamb loin (deboned and tied by your butcher)
½ head garlic
1 cup total Italian parsley and rosemary
1-2 tablespoons salt
olive oil
salt and pepper

1. Finely chop the parsley and rosemary, mix together and set aside.
2. Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.
3. Cut about half your garlic into slivers. Finely chop the other half and make paste by crushing with 2 teaspoons kosher salt, using flat side of a knife.
4. Cut enough slits in loin to insert garlic slivers into holes.
5. Brush lamb loin with olive oil, salt and pepper to taste.
6. Heat large saucepan and sear lamb loin on all sides till golden brown (if you have cut your loin into 2 pieces, do each separately).
7. Remove from pan and let it cool slightly (so it may be handled).
8. Rub the loin all over with garlic paste and then roll in herb mixture (works best on a shallow platter) so that all sides are covered.
9. Put in ovenproof casserole dish and place in oven.
10. Cook for about 25-30 minutes or until meat thermometer reaches 125 for rare, 130 for medium rare.
11. Cover with foil and let sit 5-10 minutes (temp will raise about 5 degrees).
12. Slice and serve!

There is a propriety that diners feel in regard to the restaurants in their own neighborhood, especially when they happen to be small in stature and sans celebrity chef. These local haunts give those who frequent them not only a sense of belonging, but a sense of discovery, even if the food isn’t all that wonderful. You’re one of the lucky ones “in the know,” and that’s what counts. When the restaurant happens to be outstanding, all the better. When your local favorite is given a good bit of press, it’s almost like a trust has been betrayed … the secret is out. But yet, at the same time, it’s nice to know that your favorite spot is getting the attention you always knew it deserved. And so you are left torn. Such has occurred with me and Marlow & Sons.

To anyone living in the Williamsburg (New York) area, specifically the Southern part, Marlow & Sons isn’t all that much of a secret, although I think we all assumed no one from out of the borough would bother coming. As the New York Times pointed out, Marlow & Sons has been around for over 2 years and is a spin-off of the rather famous, at least very locally, Diner (they adjoin and, as I understand it, share some resources).

When it first opened, as the NY Times article alludes to, we all figured it would be sort of a wine bar and grocery spot; a place to get a good glass with a meat and cheese plate, plus a baguette for the morning. This isn’t totally what it is or rather, has become.

The front store doesn’t really seem to be intended as a place to grocery shop, unless you’re looking for something really specialized. It is, though, a great place to grab a quick bite (there are pre-made sandwiches, scones, biscuits, egg burgers and tons of other treats readily available) and a cup of coffee any time of day. Plus, a fact which the Times fails to mention and I’m loathe to admit to you all, Marlow sets up seat-yourself-tables in front of the store when the weather is nice.

As it became more popular, though, the chef seems to have branched out and the menu has gotten larger. The restaurant part of Marlow, in the back, still serves the wonderful oysters, meats and cheeses that enticed me in the beginning, but they’ve added on quite a bit, as was mentioned in the Times, additions which are all very much welcome.

From the weekly clam dishes to the ever-changing crostini (I’ve had the white bean, as well as an eggplant caviar and a Manchego and almond topping), it’s all excellent. What’s more, Marlow & Sons (and Diner, for that matter) does an wonderful job of using seasonal and local ingredients and the menu is ever changing to reflect this attention to detail. They don’t bother with terribly mealy tomatoes in the dead of winter, but focus on other vegetables that make sense for the particular time of year like kale, spinach, and radicchio. And I can guarantee that we’ll be seeing plenty of ramps, morels, and fiddleheads on the menu very soon. I just hope I don’t have to fight the crowds to get to them.

Like so many before me, I fear my little spot may change. I love that it’s a place where neighbors can grab a drink and some snacks. I like the small, seasonal menu. With huge developments going up all over Williamsburg and press that’s coming in here and there, are the lines going to become unbearable? Will we see tomatoes on the menu in January? Of course, I am happy for Mark Firth and Andrew Tarlow as they surely deserve the press and accolades. But I like the fact that their kids run around in the early evening as all their friends stop by to visit and I hope they, as well as myself, always have the space to do just that … hang out with friends. It’s an age-old story, one that I’m sure most anyone who reads this can relate to; dealing with change is nothing new, and deep down, I always knew my Marlow wasn’t all that much of a secret…but it was fun to think it was.

Taking a cue from my fellow poster, here’s a run-down of other interesting items the NY Times Dining Section covered last week:

The freaky trend of the Mega Restaurant in New York, by Frank Bruni.

The difficulties faced by African-American chefs.

A different type of green, an organic shop, a tasty cheese and more in the wonderful Food Stuff by Florence Fabricant.

Avid food media consumers have slammed Bruni time and time again; it comes with the job. One criticism I’ve seen pop up numerous times on message boards like E-Gullet has to do with his attention to atmosphere (the music mentioned in the Babbo piece stands out) as much as, if not more than, the actual food. Granted, Bruni seems to be getting considerably better at spending equal amounts of time on both in recent reviews, like this one on Urena, but I do think he is doing something a bit interesting for restaurant patrons: forcing us to recognize that dining, for many or most, is an experience.

This concept is new and something that every restaurant lover would most likely agree with, but I do think so many of these types are in it for just the food. Bruni gives us the impression that he is not there merely for the food. At this point in his tenure as the Times dining critic, we know he is truly looking at the dining experience, as well as the food.

Traditionally, the New York Times Dining Critic should be just this: an insane food person. Who cares if the restruant looks like the inside of the Unibomber’s shack as long as the abalone is the best you’ve ever had? Although I’d imagine that atmosphere in such a place would add to the experience more than cushy banquettes were you a certain type of person. Although this may upset the self-proclaimed gastronomes and foodies of the world, I by no means think it’s a bad way to go. I think it actually has the potential to draw in the average eater who can be put off by long descriptions of foam consistencies and foie gras preparations. Most people understand bad carpet, less understand reductions and sous vide. The review becomes a little more accessible to the masses by taking both into consideration.

On a personal level, for everyday dining, atmosphere is huge to me. When someone asks me, “What do you feel like tonight?” I’m often thinking “cool and airy or cozy and warm, trendy or old fashioned, etc.” From my personal arsenal of places that I know serve good enough food, what makes me decide at that particular moment is how each is going to make me feel, not just because of what I’m eating.

Food is extremely important to me and I expect restaurant reviews to fully delve into preparations, menus and the like, but I do appreciate a good bit on the more mundane, like the drapes, light fixtures, and features of a place. How about you? When reading a restaurant review, what are you looking for?

I love this idea and was so pleased to see Shivani Vora cover it in this week’s NY Times Dining Section specifically delving into the demand that exists in the States and the attempts to meet said demand. There are a few ex pats here trying to mock the tiffinawalla system of India. Regretably, though, there is no concrete reference to any tiffin-like service here in New York City (although San Francisco’s Annadaata sounds incredible) and actually very few elsewhere. I did my own research online to see if I could find anything that Vora may have missed but came up pretty empty-handed; the one reference I could find to a man who made and delivered tiffins in NYC included a non-working phone number and that was it. No tiffins will be delivered to my door.

What I find really interesting, though, is just this: that the tiffinwalla system doesn’t really exist in the States despite various tries. Vora can only scrounge up one solid reference to a woman who runs a tiffin business, the aforementioned Annadaata, and I’m sure it wasn’t for lack of trying. Further, there is mention of a few other people who have tried at it and failed. The problem, I think, is that the entire system is reliant on a family cook, someone willing to wake up at 5am or 6am to begin the chore of churning out a hot and somewhat involved meal five to six days a week. Therein lies the beauty of the system. The cook only has to deal with a few meals. The scale of production is tiny, which is probably part of what accounts for Indians rabid love of their tiffins. Someone they care about who cares about them took the time to carefully prepare their meal of the day, paying strict attention to the dietary constraints, which often times are many, likes and dislikes of that person. In trying to up the scale of production (as small companies trying to mock the system seem to be doing here), you’re going to have to lose exactly that. ANd here in the US, who is going to take the time to wake up and cook a big, hot meal? Most families now rely on two working parents…who’s going to take one for the team and get up at 4am to slave away at the stove, especially when you know that there’s a fast food place down the street from the office? Most likely, its just not going to happen

That said, the fact that there are people trying to set up shop to mimic the basic idea of the tiffin is an honerable one. Indians value the healthiness of their tiffins as well as the variety they provide. Moreover, its a taste of home, and who can resist that. So carry on, I say! Keep at it! Bring on the bastardized tiffin!

Mark Bittman’s “Minimalist” column is always the very first thing I read in Wednesday’s edition of the New York Times. Partly because it is short and I can get through it quickly at work but also because I applaud his take on cooking and food. He likes to use simple but strong flavors, he tends to make recipes that, hypothetically, can be cooked in 30 minutes while covering plenty of regional and cultural ground. He’s sort of the thinking man’s Rachel Ray (who, no matter what gastronomes and foodies say, I love)…or at least a 30 minute meal cook with credentials. Bittman makes cooking accessable, affordable and educational in a quick three or four paragraphs on a weekly basis. I think plenty of people need that.

In last week’s Dining section, Bittman tackles North African food, noting that it is a cuisine often overlooked even though its technically part of the wildly popular Mediterranean genre. I think he has a point: the only time I ever tried to make anything North African was after returning from Morrocco with a bag filled with tagine spices. What’s more, my familiarity with North African cuisine is limited to that same trip to Morrocco where my daily diet consisted of chickpea soup, lamb tagine, and mint tea. Granted, the food was wonderful but after five days of this same exact meal three times a day, I got a sick of it. Since then, I have rarely cooked nor eaten recipes from the region. I decided it was time to get over it, and give Bittman’s chicken with olives recipe a go.

From my research, I could tell that Bittman’s take on Chicken with Olives was pretty traditional and easy, as is his wont. His largest departure from tradition with this recipe was his use of plain ol’ lemon juice rather than preserved lemon. This could be attributed to his goal of keeping costs down or perhaps just to keep it as simple as possible. I’ve always wanted to use preserved lemons and was a bit disappointed that he didn’t call for them…were I to do it again, I think I’d splurge and get some ($9 for 300g on Amazon). I was strictly adhering to Bittman’s recipe, but I could make it interesting by trying some of said traditional accompaniments to North African food I was reading about. I decided on harissa and yoghurt sauce.

The Cook’s Thesarus the defines harissa as “Tunisian chile paste = heriseh Pronunciation: huh-REE-suh Notes: This is a hot North African paste that’s used as a meat rub or (mixed with water or oil) as a condiment. Substitutes: chili paste OR hot pepper sauce”. Although the Cook’s Thesarus and many other sources site it as specifically Tunisian, it can be found throughout Northern Africa. It has a distinct flavor which can be is attributed to the use of roasted red bell pepper thus considerably differentiating it from a Mexican or Asian chile sauce.

Most recipes call for any sort of dried chile which makes it a really easy thing to do at home. Grab whatever dried chilis you have lying around and go. I happened to have habaneros, anchos and pasillas. Simply reconstitute a handful of the chiles and smash up in the food processor with a roasted red pepper, 2-3 cloves garlic, 2 teaspoons coriander seeds, 1 teaspoon cumin seeds, and 3 tablespoons olive oil and I found out that you end up with an excellent condiment that could be used on most anything.

I found a yogurt sauce on the Gutsy Gourmet, called “Middle Eastern Yogurt Sauce”, was simple and the site said it was “marvelous” which were two good enought reasons to try it as well. Yogurt sauces are very traditionally Mediterraean but usually thought of more as a Greek thing (like tzatzki). Although the recipe is not much different from one you would find in a Greek cookbook (yogurt, tahini, garlic and lemon plus water for thinning), its application in this context, over Bittmans’ chicken, is what interested me. These two sauces plus a simple couscous (chickpeas + cilantro) along with some cumin flavored zuchinni I figured would make the perfect North African menu.

Although I read every single one of Bittman’s columns, the fact is I rarely cook the recipes, but I’ve never spent too much time thinking about why that is. After cooking his Chicken with Green Olives, I think I know why: it was a little flat. Not only did it take more than the 30 minutes he said it would in his cute video, but it lacked a certain depth to it, which is one of the reasons I think I would try for the preserved lemon.

I saw it as North African food done safely or pehaps, “an introduction to the food of Northern Africa!” Once I added the harrisa and yoghurt sauce to the mix, though, it was a slam dunk. This is not to say it is a bad recipe at all…there is certainly a time and a place for safe regional cuisine: dinner parties with a bunch of people you hardly know, for example. This is perfect for that, because it is a bit exotic, but not completely unfamiliar.

However, for the more experienced cook or the more developed palate, perfect it is not. But that is okay; I don’t think that is who Bittman writes for, nor should he. And for those of us a little more willing to go the extra mile, his column is still a wonderful jumping off point for a more complete menu and an excuse at times to delve into regional cuisines a bit more than we normal would.

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
3 to 4 pounds leg-thigh pieces of chicken, cut in two, excess fat removed
Salt and pepper to taste
1 large onion, chopped
2 teaspoons peeled and minced ginger
1 1-inch cinnamon stick, or ¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon paprika
2 cups chicken broth
1½ cups green olives, drained and pitted
Lemon juice to taste

Heat oil in a deep casserole or skillet on medium high until oil is very hot. Add chicken pieces, skin side down, and brown well, turning as needed and seasoning well with salt and pepper. Remove chicken from pot, and drain off all but 2 tablespoons of the mixed olive oil and chicken fat.

Reduce heat to medium and add onion, ginger, cinnamon, garlic, cumin, paprika, ½ teaspoon or more of pepper and some salt and cook, stirring occasionally, for about 5 minutes, until onion softens and becomes transluscent. Return chicken to the pan, skin side up, add the chicken broth, return heat to medium high and cook at a brisk simmer for about ten minutes.

Add the olives, and cook, uncovered to allow sauce to reduce, until the chicken is done–about 10 to 15 minutes. Season to taste with lemon juice, salt and pepper.

For more on North African cooking, visit the following sites:

Gutsy Gourmet: Africa
Knowledge Hound
Wikipedia on N. Africa
Recipe Source: Africa