I've been light on the posting lately, but not necessarily light on the eating. So where, and what, exactly have we been eating this spring?
Well, in matters of home cooking, I've been relying on both the tried-and-true, and the quick-and-easy. Kevin and I have both been craving Mexican (at least, Mexican inspired) food lately, so home-cooked standouts have been fish tacos, chicken tacos, various nacho-esque dishes, and sometimes dinner of nothing but tortilla chips in fresh pico de gallo.
Outside of our apartment, some standouts include:
Taro Sushi, which is a hole in the wall on Dean Street, just off Flatbush Avenue. It's a hole in the wall that Chowhound has raved about, and Kevin and I finally tried it last week. We went for an early dinner/late lunch, first stopping at Total Wine Bar for a cocktail. When we told Adam, the owner, that we were going to try Taro, he said, "Oh, I heard Japanese people eat there..." which is always a good sign. The sashimi and rolls we ordered were fresh, delicious and dirt cheap. The service was lovely. The space was scarcely bigger than our bedroom, with no frills and no other customers, but the fish was top notch and I will absolutely be back. Holes-in-the-wall with great food are my absolutely favorite type of place to eat, especially if they are ethnic cuisine of some sort. Taro was worth the (underground) hype.
Cafe Riazor, where we ducked in for a late afternoon snack and drink and were duly impressed by the spicy garlic-broiled calamari and creamy spinach croquettes. Sangria was made fresh for us, and thick, salty pieces of Serrano ham were accompanied with picked Spanish olives and creamy, grassy Manchego cheese. The low ceiling and stucco walls added to the atmosphere and we left happy, satiated, and thinking we need to plan a trip to Spain before too long.
Caserta Vecchia, where we have on several occasions enjoyed some of the best brick oven pizza in the city. Service and ambiance can be hit or miss, but the individually-sized pizzas are fantastic. My favorite is the Campagnola, topped with cherry tomatoes, olive oil, oregano, arugula, prosciutto, and shaved parmesan. Yum.
Barbuto, in the far West Village, where we had a truly mind-altering Easter brunch. The service was somewhat slow, but the industrial-cozy space, wide-open view of Washington Street, and addictive crispy fried polenta more than made up for it. The polenta was served in hot, herb-infused cubes, topped with shaved parmesan and basil and we ate it as fast as we could, slowing down only to keep our mouths from burning. The menu was (refreshingly) not a brunch menu, but rather their daily menu for Easter, the same as the kitchen was offering for dinner. I had the slow roasted lamb over grilled, charred ramps (ramps being one of those scarce seasonal items that I can never pass up, like fiddle head ferns) and Kevin had crispy pan roasted duck breast. We both marveled at our entrees and vowed to return, quickly.