Aki on W. 4th

Photo by: Michael Files 2008

Aki is by far the best and freshest sushi that I’ve eaten. It should be noted that I have not yet been to NoBu, but one beauty of Aki is that the high quality flavor is attainable on an any old day budget. In fact, I dream of Aki often – and always relish the chance to introduce a newcomer to the satiating fusion of Japanese & Jamaican flavors. Therein lays the wonder that is Aki. Dishes are prepared combining flavors like spicy tuna with coconut shavings, red raisins, pine nuts and mango chutney soy sauce (my favorite appetizer, by the way: “Spicy Tuna Tartare”). Sashimi at Aki is a must, even if you’ve never enjoyed it before. Special Sushi Rolls, and I highlight the “Fried Oyster Roll” in particular, are inspired by what can only be described as a divine marriage of the Caribbean and Pacific Palate. Other notable creations are the “Banana Boat Roll” with fried banana and spicy tuna, the “Caribbean Roll” with mango, avocado & yellowtail, and instinct tells me that any random item from the menu will most likely blow you away (as it has for me and fellow Aki lovers). I look forward to evenings at Aki when Toro is the special … there’s a tantalizing appetizer that combines Toro Sashimi with basil & paprika. And at the evening’s end when you’re sure you can’t eat another bite, order the “Green Tea Tiramisu” for dessert. Just make sure no one’s looking when you lick the inside of the bowl.

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Aki on West 4^th is nestled between 6^th and 7^th avenues. It’s a tiny little place, where reservations are needed in advance. Bar seating works well for two. Be forewarned though: a taste of Aki may forever ruin your ability to eat at just any neighborhood sushi haunt. It's made me a sushi snob, but I’m okay with that.

Eating budget game: recession ingenuity or fool's errand?

Midtown may not be known from testing culinary boundaries, but when I tried Minar's two quail for $6.50 special, I figured I was headed for a borderline of some kind, for better or worse. Minar is in many respects a solid midtown lunch spot, and the location where I ate at 31st recently opened (there is another Minar on 46th b/w 6th and 7th avenues. The fare is better than the average budget South Asian cuisine, the set-up is cafeteria line style fast-food, and the folks there are thoughtful enough to leave out a bowl of raw green chilies for those, like me, who swing that way.

A friend of mine told me about the two quail for $6.50 special and it immediately alerted us to the possibility of a slippery slope. What would be next? Venison on the extra value menu? Mako Shark in a street cart? The possibilities for disaster seemed overwhelming.

But, thanks to a combination of Minar's awesome curry and very tender quail, they seemed to have pulled off quite the coo: not just passable -- but good -- wild game enjoyed at budget prices. Though eating quail in curry is a bit more difficult than in other preparations, it's worth the effort. The meat practically falls of the bone and the curry -- a buttery, tomatoey makhani -- was awesome.

Rock on Minar, for introducing us to the world of cheap game. Let's just hope others do it as well as you, if so boldly inclined.

Minar, 5 West 31st Street, New York, NY

Sandwich Sojourner down South: East Texas BBQ on a bun

Ernie’s BBQ in Greenville, TX is a survivor, a local institution in this town fitfy miles east of Dallas that has somewhow managed to outlast the end of the cotton boom as well as the onslaught of all-you-can-eat buffets and chains. A lonesome place, Ernie’s is tucked in an anonymous strip center and in all of the years I’ve been passing through here, I’ve never seen more than five people inside the restaurant. But somehow, like the rest of the town, it seems to just keep going.

Of course, Ernie’s staying power is easy to appreciate when you sample the house specialty -- a Texas favorite – BBQ brisket on a bun. Brisket on a bun seems to capture some kind of ideal state of being that is revered in Texas: with just meat on a generic hamburger bun (no greens, no sauce – other than BBQ) it as no-nonsense, cut the b.s., and get straight to the point as you can get. One gets the impression you are only lavished a bun is because eating the bbq with a knife and fork would be too cumbersome and even effete. That there bun is just for grabbing the beef with, son.

And, without a doubt, the BBQ definitely demands the center of the attention. The brisket is slow cooked over mesquite (a kind of brush wood favored in Texas BBQ over the Hickory and other hardwoods used in elsewhere). The sauce is also of a classic Texas style, meaning that its flavor has a vinegary tang with a subtle taste of pepper, as opposed to the sugary molasses based sauces found elsewhere. There is simply nothing like it anywhere else.

Ernie’s Pit Barbeque is located at 8707 Wesley Street, Greenville, TX.

Sandwich Sojourner in Philly: The Cheese-steak Body-Blow

Few foods seem to capture the essence of their origins as well as the Philly Cheese-steak. A gritty proletarian of a sandwich, the cheese-steak is a culinary street-fighter that can leave the first-time eater feeling like they've just taken a body blow from Rocky Balboa.

So, in the spirit of discovery, and taking a cue from the great anthropologist Bronislaw Maliknowski (who advised erstwhile students of other cultures to “awake to each morning though the eyes of a native”) I began a recent day in South Philly by setting out on Passyonk Avenue, where my trusty guide led me to the neighborhood steak shack. As we trudged by shuttered storefronts and sidestepped cars parked on the sidewalk, my South Philly informant explained that the icons of cheese-steakdom, Pats and Genos, were best avoided. Locals, he explained, wasted no time in the famously long lines of either establishment. Lines, frills, bells, whistles, and media attenion from Bobby Flay to Fox News are antithetical the cheese-steak's very being.

Enter Philip's Steaks. (Actually, since its a shack on a sidewalk, you kind of have to stand beside it). We may have been there before noon on a blistery December Sunday, but we weren't alone (South Philly locals know this place has it down). And for the record, yes, I started my day with a cheese-steak. I'll admit, however, that I was not completely faithful to tradition, as I opted for provolone with my meat and onions instead of cheez-whiz (the latter being the one thing I don't eat before noon). If this substitution tempered the power of the cheese-steak, however, I'm glad. The savoriness of caramelized onions combined with steak and creamy cheese on a bun is really good while its going down. It's just that it's hard to deny, however, that eating a cheese steak while wide awake (and perfectly sober) on a Sunday is the culinary equivalent of taking smelling salts while being 100% conscious. Cheese-steaks appear to be purpose built beer drinking food, so what I did was just nonsense. (and I won't even go into the implications of this meal taking place just before getting on the bus back to NYC.)

But the thing is, just a while after arriving in NYC later in the afternoon, I found myself hankering for another one (and believe me, it wasn't the smell of the bus station wetting my appetite). Perhaps like the City of Brotherly Love itself, the cheese-steak seems to have a magic magnetism which makes you yearn later, regardless of what kind of visceral effect it has when its right before your eyes.

Philip's Steaks is at 2234 W. Passyunk Ave, (between 23rd and Hemberger), Philadelphia PA

Sandwich Sojourn Continues… The Mexican torta

Though Mexico’s culinary heritage is far from underappreciated, few people associate the sandwich with south of the border cuisine. In fact, more than burritos or fajitas (which are, in many ways, Gringo fare) tacos and sandwiches – or tortas – are what you are more likely to find at food stands and carts, especially in northern Mexico.

The distinctiveness of the torta begins with the bread. The bolillio or birotes is said to be a descendent of the baguette, though it is considerably more rotund than its French ancestor. It evolved, it would seem, to be an ideal conveyor of fixins, and herein lies the essence of the torta’s greatness, a kind of holy trinity of avocados, refried beans, and jalapenos. When combined with any of the numerous fillings: (a short list includes sautéed chicken, beef milanesa (itself a variation of Milanese steak), chorizo, familiar taco meats like pork al Pastor or carne asada (marinated steak), or simply white cheese the results are godly. With a base of refried beans, avocados, and jalapenos, it seems like you could put anything in a sandwich and would taste great, which probably explains the tortas popularity: just about anywhere one finds a large Mexican population one can find tortas at a taqueria. Tortas also fit the basic requirement one should expect from all sandwiches: as the classic on the go food it is cheap, mobile, and filling, though its a bit aromatic for eating in crowded places (my wife and I were once nearly chased out of a movie theater for the smell after we snuck in a couple of tortas).

As with all sandwiches, the idea of suggesting a specific destination goes against the essence of what defines the food in the first place: they are supposed to be ubiquitous, but never banal, east to get, but still worth craving. But, two tried and true NYC spots are:

Taqueria y Fonda la Mexicana: 968 Amsterdam Ave., b/w 107 and 108^th, Manhattan

Nuevo Mexico: 489 Fifth Avenue, b/w 11^th and 12^th, Brooklyn

Paris #2: Sandwich Grec Blues

Fast food is a kind of monster - a hunger monster - that preys upon those short of time and money. Unfortunately, I fall into this category of quarry as of late, but thankfully there is an option other than MacDo's, Quick, and KFC that is fairly easy to find around Paris and thankfully, not extremely harmful to one's blood pressure, waistline, or liver.

Enter the world of sandwich grec (or as it alternatively known, sandwich turc - some Greeks and Turks might be dismayed to know that these terms usually refer to the same sandwich). Once only a denizen of Paris' outlaying immigrant neighborhoods, the sandwich grec is now on the cusp of culinary assimilation. It seems poised to follow in the path of pizza, frankfurters, and frites, ascending (or, some would argue, descending) to the level of undifferentiated fast food from the ghettoized world of ethnic cuisine.

Already, the sandwich grec/turc is displaying signs of acculturation or mutation associated with this transition from ethnic to domestic. Those familiar with the puffy pita found in Greek and Lebanese sandwiches will find no such pleasure in the sandwich grec. There is only a kind of austere bread product that appears to be the mixed offspring of a pocket pita and a hot-dog bun. Similarly, those expecting a wide array of fillings and spicy sauces found in many falafel sandwiches will be surprised to find their options similarly curtailed. You get lettuce, tomatoes, and a choice of three sauces: piment (chili), mayonnaise, or ketchup (yes, that is ketchup in your pita) or a combination. And then there is the real action: a copious pile of lightly seasoned chopped lamb flowing out of the sandwich, which is usually enough to satisfy even the most bestial appetite.

Of course the quality of sandwich grec varies widely, and since no McGrec or McTurc has arrived yet to monopolize the market, every one of the hundreds of vendors is different. I don't recommend traveling too far out of your way for any particular sandwich grec just yet. But, if you happen to be in the far northern reaches of Paris near Porte de Clignancourt (say spending a weekend afternoon at the famous Marche aux Puces) try one of the many spots on Blvd Ornano between the Simplon and the Clignancourt Metro stations (I would recommend Le Meditarranee, at 80 Blvd Ornano). For less than five euros you can fill your stomach with a sandwich grec and frites, giving your money to a local operator instead of a multi-national, and saving your insides from total annihilation (though I doubt your blood pressure will emerge totally unscathed). Although it took me a while to get accustomed to it (I've been spoiled on some pretty good Middle-Eastern and Greek style pitas in other places) you'll realize that when you consider the other options, the sandwich grec blues are not all that bad to have.

Coffee Coffee Buzz Buzz Buzz

I’m a sucker for a good cup of coffee. And let it be on record that I HATE STARBUCKS. Living in New York City, it’s amazing how much money a seemingly level-headed person (like myself) will spend on a few small sips of the stuff. Be it for the taste, the buzz, the excuse for a break, the refreshing nature of it poured over ice on a sticky summer day, or really - as the perfect accessory to a good conversation, coffee has furtively stolen our hearts and at times broken our budgets. I don’t really know how or when it happened (though, I’m sure Starbucks had something to do with it) but in Manhattan, the going rate for coffee is nearly $2, an iced coffee (which instinctively one would think would be cheaper, seeing as it’s old coffee poured on ice and therefore diluted) somewhere between $2-3; cappuccino’s range between $3-4 (and god help me, I’ve become hooked on espresso); and the rest of the fancy and often seasonal coffee drinks can cost upwards of $4 or 5. It’s madness.

The thing about these pricey coffee houses is the coffee is not always good. Sometimes the iced coffee is so watery it looks like tea. Cappuccinos are often loaded up with [barely] foamed milk, negating the taste of espresso and completely throwing off the intended ratio. Coffee may be overly acidic, or lacking in any body, flavor or kick. Or, of course, there might be nothing in sight except Starbucks, yuck. But along my meandering, over-caffeinated path, I’ve realized a few truths worth sharing with my fellow penny-pinching coffee drinkers.

1) Garden of Eden (The Gourmet Grocery Store) makes damn good coffee. Stop in, check out the salad bar, get some unbruised produce, and drink down a good sized coffee (of any kind: iced, regular, or fancy cappuccino-like) for under $2!! The quality of coffee may vary slightly depending on what Garden of Eden you're in .. but the one up at 107th and Broadway is delicious. They even put foamed milk on top of the regular coffee – that’s pretty remarkable.

2) If you’re going to spend the crazy prices on coffee anyway, make sure you stop in at Café Regular in Park Slope, Brooklyn. It’s a cozy, nook of a place on 11^th Street between 4^th and 5^th Avenue that beams a vibe reminiscent of classic France. Their blend of beans is perfection, and a well kept secret (believe me, I’ve tried to get it). The coffee is strong and smooth and full bodied, and always adds a bit of euphoria to my day. Sometimes they make foam art, too. Pastries are fresh and if you visit later in the day (and make friends with the owner), you may get some croissants for free. We still haven’t figured out if you’re supposed to pronounce “regular” like an American or a Parisian, but the coffee is much more than regular and well worth a visit.

Gustatorium in Paris: Follow the animatronic baccus

The Gustatorium is pleased to announce the debut of our new Paris "bureau"! Follow our lead to avoid the scenario that befalls many an etranger arriving in the city of light (namely being sucked into a tourist chocked cafe where the waiters are grumpy, the frites are microwaved, and the cost per plate insulting even if it were in dollars).

So, with the Dollar dropping against the Euro as fast as it is, what better way to begin than with a top quality bistro that even Americans on a student budget can afford:

Jacques Melac (46 rue Leon-Frot; Metro Charonne). Small, inexpensive, and informal, Melac's place specializes in provincial cuisine: namely the Aveyron region of France (the south-central part of the country). Located in a quiet residential section of the 11th arrondissement, the specialty here is wine (the owner, who sports a handle-bar mustache, describes the relationship between people and wines as a "hymn to life and humanity" and proudly posts a sign warning customers that "water is only for boiling potatoes").

Our best advice with wines is to let Jacques be your guide; he is happy to let you sample wines from his constantly evolving list until you find a bottle that suits your taste. Being a true lover of the grape, he and his waitstaff never look down their noses at your questions -- in fact they relish being teachers of wine. Let them take you under their wing.

We would suggest starting with a boudin noir salade avec miel: fresh greens topped with blood sausage and honey (order a nice spicy red to go with this and you will be in heaven!). If you find that blood sausage tests the limits of your comfort zone, follow with a warm home-style embrace of a main dish like hachis parmentier (a shepherd's pie-like concoction of shredded beef and mashed potatoes). Adventurous? No, of course not. But sometimes, satisfaction comes from finding brilliant but simple examples of food that illustrate why some traditions maintain the longevity that they do. And it seems that Melac and his colorful waitstaff are proud acolytes of the Avergnat tradition of food and wine. Upon asking our waiter about the flognarde (a kind of apple and bread pudding) we were immediately whisked into the kitchen where we were invited to try it along with the chocolate mousse, candied prunes and all the other divine desserts Melac offered that particular night. Wash your dessert down with a stomach warming glass of eau de vie (literally translated as "water of life": a clear apple or pear-based brandy) and you'll feel like you're next to a fireplace before even leaving the restaurant.

And what's better all of this can be had around 30 euros a person (entrees average 8 and plats about 15). That's the same price (if not less than) the tourists are paying for half-defrosted frites on Blvd St. Michel (where the crowds and pushy service will now feel a world away to you). Voila! Now you have really arrived in France.

Mint-Chocolate Goodies

Mint and chocolate are one of those classic flavor combinations that I hope reigns eternal. And while chocolate has many friends and many more friends to meet, the partnership of mint and chocolate is one that should be written about in children’s folklore and fairytale. It’s a tremendous combination in cookies, stand-alone chocolate bars, hard mint candies with gooey chocolate centers, even hot cocoa -- but my most favorite medium of mint-chocolate goodness is ice cream. There’s just something so warming yet utterly refreshing about mint chocolate ice cream – perhaps a little extra wonder is added when you add chips and freeze it. So here are a few of my mint-chocolate favorites:

If you’re going the Ice Cream route, I would recommend Breyer’s Mint Chocolate Chip for its traditional flavor, and Ben & Jerry’s Mint Chocolate Cookie for a little extra fun. Not everyone is a fan of the cookie bits mashed in instead of the chip (though I am), but the intensely cooling peppermint infused ice cream is near hypnotizing. Toffuti Cutie Dairy Free Mint Chocolate Chip Frozen Dessert Sandwiches are worthy of an honorable mention for all those lactose intolerant, mint-chocolate groupies out there. I can’t vouch for their mint-chocolate pints, though.

And finally, the inspiration for this post: Stonyfield’s “(Low Fat) Mint Chocolate Chip” Frozen Yogurt. Generally, I’ve never been a fan of frozen yogurt, but it was brought home when a search for Mint Chocolate Cookie proved fruitless, and I fell in love after a few bites. Now I’m hooked on the stuff. In fact, this entry was inspired by a craving for Stonyfield’s Mint Chocolate Chip. The best part is one could argue it’s healthy, because you get all the calcium, little fat, and a fraction of the sugar that is found in regular ice cream. I think I’ll help myself to a bowl right now.

The Chocolate Room

Experts say chocolate is best enjoyed with a glass of cool, but not cold water. We agree, and would like to add that cool, but not cold water may best be enjoyed with a hand-picked assortment of chocolate ganache truffles from The Chocolate Room. This review is dedicated to the chocolatier, Fritz Knipschildt, and the sensational ganache he infuses with spices, heats, herbs, fruits, and flowers. A quick preview of our favorites, though the list goes on: tangerine & red chili, caramel & sea salt, lavender, violet, currant & peppercorn .. In addition, The Chocolate Room offers a wide variety of chocolate themed desserts, including fresh fruit fondue, pasteries, brownies, mousse, cakes and more .. but we haven't tried any of those just yet. We can't help but focus our attention on the flavors of the Ganache. The prices are a little indulgent, but we've found the unconventional and dreamy flavors of the truffles more than make up for it. Besides, it's cozy and smells like fresh baked brownies all the time.

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Located on the delightful 5th Avenue in Park Slope, Brooklyn, The Chocolate Room doubles as a chocolate shop and dessert cafe, and stays open for an almost midnight snack on Friday & Saturday evenings. $10 per 1/4 lb box of truffles (about 9-10 pieces).