I Scream Loud

Hi. Have we met? Well then I am sure you know that my favorite food is iced cream. So many people that I have told this to have retorted, "Ice cream is not a food." They expect that my favorite food will be something savory, like pizza or sushi. They want me to name a specific dish like spaghetti alla carbonara. But it doesn't work like that. Food is food and iced cream is iced cream. I don't know whether it's a comfort thing, or a girly thing (not so, because Neil loves iced cream almost as much as I do). I always stem it from the night before I was born. It was a hot summer night (she says it was around midnight on a Thursday) when she just had to have some iced cream. My parents walked around the West Village and she got a cone (because let's be honest, unless there is a valid reason as to why you really cannot handle the logistic of a cone, you really should be eating iced cream (no, those are not typos) off a cone. The next day, yessir, the very next day, I arrived, indignant for more iced cream.

Tasti D-lite is like a cult following here in New York City. Well, rather, you either love it- and when you love it, you really truly love it- or you hate it. Rarely do people simply tolerate it. I love it. When you eat as much as iced cream as me, you have to have some kind of a low fat option, or I would as large as a house. Tasti D-lite is certainly up there. I love homemade ice cream stores; places that make their own ice cream. One of my favorite- if not the best one in the entire world- is Browns, an ice cream mecca in York, Maine. This is a small shack on top of a hill, on a small peninsula that juts out into the ocean. This is where people come far and wide (at least, in the area) to partake in the freshest, creamiest, fruitiest, chocolatiest, more flavorful, bursting with goodness ice cream I've ever had. Unfortunately it's not the easiest thing in the world to go on these Browns pilgrimages, so I have to turn to other devices.

For my housewarming party, I was gifted two iced cream makers. Either this is how well my friends know me, or I just blatantly requested these as gifts. I gave one to my mom (after she blatantly asked me for the spare one and the other, I set to making iced cream as soon as I had time to. My first stop, on Neil's request, was to make Nutella iced cream. I found a recipe on foodnetwork.com (Giada DeLaurentis' recipe) and went at it. Neil came over and announced that mine was more hazlenutty than the one Mom had made at home. I also made a pistachio ice cream, which turned out to be so nutty that it is truly more pistachios than iced cream (which, in this case, is actually okay in my book). From Not Eating Out in New York's blog, I found a great recipe for carrot cake ice cream, which I think I will attempt in the days before we leave for Peru.

The great thing about making iced cream at home is that it does have that great homemade touch that I love about iced cream. The downside is that I have to work for it.

Bureaucracy Stinks/R.I.P. Sapore

New York City is one of the gastronomic capitals of the world, if not the capital of the world. Parisians, we can argue this one later, but please, this is my blog, allow me to make my point.

There are amazing restaurants, cafes, open air markets (ok, fine, this is where Paris has us beat) but some of my favorite places in the city are the small mom-and-pop run places, the ones that always know your name, that greet you with a complimentary glass of house wine when you cross the threshold, that know your order before you do, the ones that keep the bread - and the compliments- coming all night long. This place, for me, was a small little corner Italian restaurant called Sapore. Located on the the corner of Greenwich Street and Perry, I'd been visiting Sapore since I was a sophomore in high school. One of the best things about Sapore was Leo, a waiter who'd crushed on me and every other mildly attractive women who entered the restaurant, for as long as I'd been going there. He was the one who slipped me the wine, the desserts, the on the house meals for a long time (not to narc him out, because he was the best, but on my 19th birthday, he comped me and a dining partner a full bottle of wine, salads, entrees and dessert, all on the house). He was always happy to see us (my parents included) and made every attempt to get us seated and on our way to drinking cheap Italian wine as fast as possible.

But Leo wasn't the only great asset to Sapore. Sapore boasted some of the best pastas I've ever had. Even after a trip to Italy, from Rome to the Amalfi Coast to Florence, Neil and I still agreed that Sapore had better pastas than the homeland itself. The bolognese was one of the best on the menu: completely simple, easy, comforting. Another one of the favorites was Spaghetti Rustici, a simple spaghetti dish made with olives, tomatoes, anchovies and capers. In fact, I insisted on downing a portion of that the night before I ran the New York City Marathon. Another of the best options on the pasta menu was Penne Fiorentina, a dish made with pureed spinach, fresh ground pepper and a generous dollop of ricotta on top. It was my failsafe, my comfort food, my one true constant in a world of uncertainty...

...until they shuttered the windows of Sapore and announced in a small, printed off a home computer sign, that Sapore had in fact, lost its lease and would be closed until further notice. There was backlash from the community, food blogs roared in uprising. After all, the restaurant had been there for nearly 15 years with a loyal neighborhood following. The owner had printed directions to his other restaurant in Park Slope, Brooklyn: Sette Enoteca, saying that he would be happy to recreate any of Sapore's dishes. Well say no more!

We made it over to Sette on a Saturday night (it took us just over an hour from Harlem) and told the owner, who happened to be there that night, just how crushed we were that Sapore was no more. He was thrilled that we had made the pilgrimage to Sette and happily seated us in the outdoor seated area, which was covered for the night. Unfortunately, since this was a number of months ago, I don't remember exactly what it was that we ordered so I'll do my best. There was lamb, I do remember that. Which was unbelievable. For some reason, all lamb shanks that we order, are always compared to the lamb at Roberto Passon, which is in fact, rather incredible. This one was rather tasty, falling apart at the bone and melting in the mouth. The sardines (which are something Dad never forgoes when they are on the menu) were also grilled to perfection. We ordered a side of escarole which was perfectly bitter and went well with the lamb. We ordered two pastas: one which slips my mind, and the other I requested specifically from the kitchen: the penne fiorentina was exactly as I had remembered it. Perfect. At least now I know that whenever I need a little bit of comfort and certainty in the world, all I have to do is hop on the F train into Brooklyn. But honestly, bureaucracy stinks. So do rising prices. Come back, Sapore. We miss you.

R.I.P. Sapore
1997-2008

Biking Lot of Means Eating Lot of

This weekend was the First Annual Borough Bike Ride, starting with Brooklyn. I started at home, and rode down to meet Rohit, who was renting his bike on 96th st. We picked up my mom and Gery, and headed downtown to Warren St, cutting across to the Brooklyn Bridge. Worst idea ever, since the walkers don't understand the concept of staying on their side of the bridge and the bikers get all belligerent and start yelling (Oh, wait, that would be me). When we finally made it across, we headed straight across to Cadman Plaza towards Carroll Gardens. We had a plan, kind of. That is, Rohit had made a list of all the tasty food in every neighborhood that we'd be cycling through, and depending on what we wanted to stop for, we would. Including unanticipated stops. Such as our first one, the Henry Street Bakery. At this point, I'd already biked over 10 miles and was ready for breakfast. Rohit and I shared a croissant and an iced coffee, Gery had an apple turnover and an orange juice and Mom had a macchiato and a Spinach-Cheese Boureki. All very flaky and tasty. Onwards!

We biked through Carroll Gardens and Smith Street, hitting the Park's Slope at 5th Ave and 5th st. Willy's Dawgs was our next stop, where we shared the house special, a "mutt" an all beef hot dog in natural casing with mustard, relish and sauerkraut. Right next door, at Nibbles and Nosh, Mom was tempted by the Trinidadian roti, so we shared one with chicken. The consensus was, too many potatoes, not enough chicken. Their samples of chocolate chip cookies were divine, though. While waiting, we also noshed on some samples of tofu rolls- suffice to say that these were not very good, but they were free! Sated for the moment, we rolled on over to Prospect Park, enjoying the downhill ride through the South exit, where we took Ditmas Ave towards the Ditmas Park neighborhood. We ride through Hassidic Jews out for a walk, through little children holding the leashes of very big dogs and amazing free standing houses. On our miles long ride down Bedford Ave, the houses changed from amazing and large to smaller and not as impressive, but still cute quite the same. We biked. We biked. We biked. Finally, arriving at Sheepshead Bay, where we have gone deep sea fishing a few times and never caught anything but some nasty looking RobinFish. We were going to stop at Il Fornetto, but were turned off by the fact that the restaurant had valet parking and we were rather hot and sweaty. Though, there was quite a show at the rear ;) Mom remembered a rather tasty Greek place where we had shared some seafood the time before and we sought it out- Yiasous, a lovely little place on the main drive with views of the bay. We locked up our bikes, taking care to keep our eyes on them and ordered Taramasalata, a huge mixed salad with feta cheese, olives, red onions, tomatoes and cucumbers, an order of calamari and saganaki. We had a bottle of crisp white wine and chomped down. The setting was wonderful, the weather was wonderful and the fact that we truly earned all this food made everything taste that much better. Fat and happy, we continued on our way, this time up Ocean Parkway, where there was an actual bike lane to take us back to Prospect Park, this time the other way, so we hit the really big hills. Through Fort Greene, with a stop at Cake Man Raven. Alas, when we got there, their cupboard of slices was bare and there was no way we were going to carry a whole red velvet cake home, however good it was, so we just made do with a bathroom stop. Until, I saw that a birthday party was going on upstairs, with a cake that was too large for the few people attending it. I asked, politely, if I could buy a piece of cake from the partygoers. "Are you kidding?" they asked. "You can't buy one. You can take one." So off I went merrily (Happy Birthday Linda, fellow Leo!) to share my loot with my fellow bikers. Boy, were they happy. And boy, did we get daggers shot from other people who were just dying for a slice of Cake Man Raven's Red Velvet Cake! We gobbled it up, got back on our bikes and headed towards Williamsburg, with the sun just starting to go behind some clouds. We made it to Radegast Beer Garden, tied up the bikes under a construction awning and hit the garden, which was in full Saturday night swing. We ordered beer (A white beer for me) and some other stronger beers for the others and an order of fries. We decided that we would have to make a trip to Bohemian Beer Garden the next day, which we did. At the end of the night, it was too dark to bike home, so we hopped on the L train, headed up 8th Avenue and had yet some more food- leftover pizza from Full Moon Pizza in Arthur Avenue and red velvet cake. My theory? Bike lot of: eat lot of.

How you feelin'? HOT HOT HOT!

A few weeks ago (the night of the Nike NYC Half Marathon to be precise) I went over to have dinner with my parents, Neil and Gery in Chelsea. My mother had made Kashmiri Lamb curry, something I've heard is so incredibly spicy that it's normally difficult to handle. I think my mom had heard about this and therefore toned down the chillies in the dish.

However, as we sat out in the garden, spooning lamb curry into our mouths, I thought I was going to die. It was H-O-T. At first, I touched the very tip of my tongue onto a fork that held a piece of lamb. And that hurt. I spooned in yogurt, filled half my bowl with rice, chugged water. Nothing. After about 15 minutes, I, along with my father, admitted defeat. I set my fork down and sheepishly handed my still full bowl to my brother, who ate it down, tears, literally, falling down his face. Rohit is always bragging about how he can take spices. I've seen him pop raw jalepenos in his mouth without flinching. Since he was sleeping early (you know, the whole 13 mile run thing), I had to bring him some for trial. And wouldn't you know- the next day, he was spooning it in his mouth after we saw Dark Knight, saying, "This isn't so bad. I mean, it's spicy, but it's not bad at all." Bastard.

An Ode to the Lobster Roll

Ah, lobster roll
How I do I love thee?
I pine for your tangy mayonnaise
Which I don't love normally

Each and every time I go
To a place that serves your fare
I don't bother with the rest of the menu
Just so long as you are there.

My absolutely favorite roll
Is in Kennebunkport, Maine
The Crab Shack is the proprietor
That puts all the rest to shame

The bun it is so crispy
Yet the innards are so soft
The lobster comes in big fat chunks
This roll it stands aloft

Though I love the Clam Shack
I live in another state
The Five Boroughs will have to suffice
To fulfill my lobster palate

Mermaid Inn, both uptown and down
Has one of the city's best
The crispy bay fries and brioche bun
Accompany the steamed underwater pest

However my true allegiance
Is towards Mary's Fish Camp
Her rolls are larger and juicier
The fries are far from damp

The ambiance is classic
The hustle and bustle crowd
I love inhaling this lobster roll
While I drink Anchor Steam down

The Lobster Roll is heaven
It's the definition of summer
Whenever I finish each Lobster Roll
I think to myself, "Bummer."

If you are ever craving
Something fresh and sweet
Something pure and simple
That doesn't mess with the meat

The lobster roll is your friend
It will be with you until its End
But when of course the end arrives,
You will be a little sad inside.

Surprise! Part 2 (Birthday Part 3)

Ah yes, the saga goes on. When we last left you, we were enjoying the Bhangra Blowout stylings of DJ Rekha and guest. The music was pumping, the sweat was dripping, and somehow in all the athleticism, I managed to potentially burn off my entire caloric intake at Le Bernardin. Okay, maybe not, but I was really sweating!

I knew that Rohit had another surprise up his sleeve (this was before the surprise party, details to come). All he told me was that he needed a few hours, either on Saturday or Sunday to pull of his master plan. All I was supposed to do was go along with it. We took the car out of the garage and stopped for the only decent iced coffees within walking distance at our apartment in Harlem (Settepani Bakery), which has now taken to charging $3.50 for a regular sized iced coffee. Ludicrous! Anyhow, we headed to the Triborough Bridge, with Rohit sneaking glances at his driving directions in his lap. I was explicitly told not to look at them. I didn't cheat, don't worry. But in true Pia behavior, I asked a dozen questions. It wasn't until we took the exit, that I realized where we were going: CITY ISLAND!

City Island is a small island just next to Pelham Park in the Bronx. We've always talked about going here, but never quite made it. So there we were, driving down City Island Avenue, which was reminiscent of a small New England beach town during the off season (yes alas, shuttered storefronts and closed business abound). There was an ice cream shop which I scoped out on the way to our destination: Reef's restaurant on the tip of the island, with a full view of the water and lots of sh*tting seagulls.

Reef's isn't fancy. It has picnic tables and cafeteria style dining. It's not a place you take someone if you want to impress them. Unless, of course, that someone is me or anyone else, who loves fresh fried or steamed seafood. We ordered a basket of fried softshell crabs and a basket of fried lobster tails. Each of the baskets came with soggy fries and a watery cup of cole slaw. I had a $3.75-very-generous-on-the-rum pina colada and Rohit had beer from the can. The meal was absolutely divine. I sat on a section of the NY Times since the seat was too hot and the sun beat down upon us. The seagulls cawed at the sidelines, begging for food, but Reef's was smart enough to put up string so they didn't fly overhead. After our stomachs couldn't take anymore, we jumped in the car- I drove!- to Lickety Splits, for some ice cream.

You have to promise not to tell anyone about City Island though. There were the locals and then there was us. And I hope to keep it that way.

Surprise! Part 1 (Birthday Part 2)

For two months, Rohit had booked a table for my birthday. I usually celebrate my birthday with dinner with my family, but I decided that I was growing up now, not out, and that I wanted two birthday celebrations: one with just Rohit and I acting elegant and classy at a nice place that we have always wanted to go to and one with my family where we sat in the backyard drinking, in the words of Gery's father Joska, "lot of."

I wasn't allowed to find out where we were eating until the day of my birthday, but due to a minor SNAFU, I did find out the night before. I was ecstatic! I hadn't been to Le Bernardin since I was about 15, when it didn't matter what culinary delights were going in my mouth, so long as it was edible and tasted good (actually...not much has changed). That time, my mother reminded me, we had gone with the four of us: Neil, Mom, Dad and me. Neil has gone through many strange food phases in his life and unfortunately has never gotten over this one: that he doesn't like lobster. I mean, seriously? Who doesn't LIKE lobster? Anyhow, at the time I last went to LB, we all ordered the tasting menu and we all got lobster bisque. The bisque was served in two parts- the lobster was placed down in front of us and then, while the server turned to grab the soup that he would smother the lobster chunks with, the three of us (sans Neil) grabbed the lobster and stuffed it in our mouths. Imagine the waiter's surprise when the large chunks of lobster weren't there anymore!

This story prompted Rohit and I to think about whether or not we might take our (incredibly potential and hypothetical) children to fancy restaurants such as this one. I said yes, so as to enhance their culinary openmindedness and whet their appetites for really good food. Rohit had his reservations, thinking that taking kids to restaurants like that could spoil them. Anyhow...

LB this time around, as a seasoned adult, was phenomenal. We showed up a half hour early and were seated immediately. On such a lovely evening out, you have to have a cocktail from their bar, where the waiter boasted, "We can make anything." So we got a lychee martini and a vodka gimlet. We chose the four course menu- two appetizers, an entree and a dessert, the first three of which are broken out into the following stages:
ALMOST RAW
BARELY TOUCHED
LIGHTLY COOKED

Rohit and I have this thing: we try really hard not to order the same thing. But when there is a specialty in a kitchen, you have to try it. So we both ordered the FLUKE in ALMOST RAW: White Soy-Yuzu Marinated Fluke; Seaweed and Spiced "Rice Crispies." For BARELY TOUCHED, Rohit ordered the CALAMARI: Sauteed Calamari Filled with Sweet Prawns and Wood Ear Mushrooms with a Calamari Consomme and I had another one of Ripert's specialties: SEA URCHIN Risotto with Toasted Nori and an Urchin-Citrus Emulsion. The LIGHTLY COOKED entree served Rohit and I respectively with the BAKED LOBSTER, asparagus and sauce Gribiche and WILD STRIPED BASS-LANGOUSTINE with a confit tomato aglonotti, bouillabaisse consomme and curry emulsion. The flavors were wild. The sea urchin, as well as the fluke, for that matter, melted in my mouth. The fish was so fresh, which is probably why the restaurant makes a big deal about everything being so barely cooked. It made me want to take a class on sauces and soups because I think my cooking would greatly benefit from it.
Dessert was DARK CHOCOLATE AND PEANUT CARAMEL TART with Meyer Lemon Puree, Peanut Powder and Praline-Citrus Sorbet, and RUM SCENTED CARROT CAKE with Golden Raisins, Sicilian Pistachios, and Condensed Milk Ice Cream.

Everything was perfect. Heavenly. What's even more fortuitous is that since LB is a seafood restaurant, I wasn't heavily weighed down when we left the restaurant to go bhangra dancing at SOB's.

I like me some fishies.

Hungarian Happiness (Birthday Part 1)

Gery (my Hungarian brother) and Neil slaved away the day before my birthday, hoping to serve me an authentic Hungarian meal that night. Unfortunately (not that unfortunately since we were served a lovely spread of food at Sebastian's cocktail party) the party had to be moved to the next day during lunch, on the day of my actual birthday. The boys invited me over - a happy break from work, I might add- to a meal served with love. I arrived to find that my mom had also come back for lunch, and Gery frying langos, a deep fried flatbread that he was making in the wok. The house smelled amazing (when does fried food not smell amazing?) and Neil was setting the table for my arrival. We had a Joel Gott Sauvignon Blanc along with lunch. The first course was a sour cherry soup, which tasted like melted ice cream. And what's wrong with that?! I asked- much to my chagrin- what went into it and I was told: "Cherries, cream and sugar." My stupidity.

The main course was the langos, served with a garlic and vinegar sauce (Very similar to what is eaten with tostones), sour cream spread on top of that, and shredded cheese. When I explained it to Rohit, he said he sounded like a Mexican meal.

From Wiki: The name comes from láng, the Hungarian word for flame, because traditionally it was baked in the front of the brick oven, close to the flames. It was originally made from bread dough and was served as breakfast on the days when new bread was baked. Now that people no longer have brick ovens and usually do not bake bread at home, lángos is usually fried in oil.

I tried to grab a small one, but Gery was one step ahead of us. There were no small ones. I didn't argue. The contrast of the sweet cherry soup and the salty fried langos was heavenly. And the red velvet cupcakes that Mom had made specifically after I broadly hinted that I wanted them were a lovely ending to the meal. Strangely, the cupcakes weren't as red as normal, and tasted different. It's all psychosomatic.

Boldog szuletesnapot to me!

Surprise!

I've always wanted a surprise party. Maybe this year it finally paid off because last year, I hinted broadly to Rohit that, "Hey, wouldn't it be fun to have someone throw you a surprise party?" Lo, and behold...there it was. Sunday night of my birthday weekend, I was supposed to have dinner at my parents' place. It would be a quiet evening, I surmised, grilling in the backyard and imbibing copious amounts of cocktails and wine. (This is how my family does it best).

Imagine my surprise (I guess that was the point, huh?) when I walked in to find 20 of my closest friends and family waiting for me in the kitchen. I think, for the first time in my life, I was speechless. I had no words. I hugged everyone, my mouth agape, not knowing how to react, really. It was all made better when my mother plunked a glass of cucumber-basil martini in my hand. Ahh, suddenly, the shock wore off.

A few months ago, I had told my mother and Rohit that they should get together and tackle this challenge: cook a meal using all the herbs in the backyard. This includes basil, lavender, chives, mint, and thyme. This was the cornerstone for the menu. Together, Rohit and my mom plotted and came up with an absolutely stellar menu that incorporated all these things, which were all unbelievable and tasted just like summer. The evening was just so spectacular. I wasn't allowed to help at all: no grilling, no putting things out, just sit, drink, eat and socialize. This was my kind of party. Rohit manned the grill with ease and style. The food...oh my, the food. Just unbelievable. When Rohit and my mom get together (and I said this at the party and someone made a dirty joke...gee, I wonder who, Punit?!) they really make magic. I'm so lucky. Sigh...below, check out the amazing menu they put together for me. All me. Let this be a hint to you: if you ever want a surprise party thrown for you, just say so :)

Pia's Surprise Birthday Menu
BEER
WINE
CHAMPAGNE
CUCUMBER - BASIL MARTINI

CHILLED GAZPACHO SOUP with diced guava & fresh dill

CROSTINIS: (1) melted fontina cheese, sauteed wild mushrooms with chives, white truffle oil drizzle (2) grilled baby eggplant, black olive puree, fried parsley

GRILLED PORTOBELLO MUSHROOMS with wilted spinach, goat cheese, rosemary - thyme dressing

WILD RICE SALAD

WHOLE BLACK SEA BASS stuffed with lemon and wild fennel

CHICKEN LEGS olive-brined with grilled onions and paprika oil

LAMB STEAKS marinated in mint and sherry

CARROT CAKE

RED VELVET CAKE

RUSTIC PEACH TART

RUSTIC CHERRY TART

BLUEBERRY PIE

Restaurant Fever

There have been quite a number of culinary experiences, mainly or mostly in NYC, since I haven't vacationed since we returned from India and Dubai in December. But hey, who am I to complain? NYC restaurants are some of the best in the world, if not THE best. So, using my Filofax and my memory (which may fail me on this beautiful day when I just want to be outdoors), I will relay these culimemories as best as possible.

Gramercy Tavern: For Ro's bday, I took him to Gramercy Tavern, as this was a place he had wanted to try for a long time. I managed to get a reservation two months in advance (was it two months or one month, I can't remember) and we had a lovely time in our private ish booth. I hadn't realized that the menu was set- you could either have a three course a la carte meal or the Chef's Tasting menu. The 3- course sounded more interesting so we went with that one. I honestly can't recall a lot of the details of the meal, except that I had Smoked Lobster, which was very tasty, and Rohit had Venison, which he had never had before. It was a lovely evening-really no different than any Danny Meyer experience and we had a great time.

Megu: Overrated, overpriced, pretentious, snooty and the teeniest portions ever. The dumplings were good though.

Jojo: Bad seating arrangements but the wine and the food were very good, comforting and relaxing, especially for a restaurant week offering.

Park Avenue Winter: Really enjoyed the food, decor and the theme to this restaurant. Really fun concept. Can't wait to try Park Avenue Summer.

F.R.O.G: Incredibly cool concept. "Oh-kay" food.

Aquavit: Excellent food, unbelievable cured fishes and concoctions.

Calle Ocho: Best mojitos ever. And the free tapas Mondays make it all good. Food is good, but the free stuff is better!

Matilda: Too far away and not worth the walk. Skip it.

IronChef (x2): Always the best. You know it's the best when the little lady remembers you and your favorite things. And recommends some absolutely awesome sashimi dishes that aren't even on the menu. Fashion Roll, I love you.

Landmarc: We went here after I took my first Bikram yoga class. I devoured (and I mean devoured) half a share of mussels and one of the best burgers I've ever had.

Mermaid Inn (x2): As always, a pleasure. The seafood paella made with Israeli cous cous was surprise winner.

Nomad: Everything was good. Not great. Satisfactory. Bistilla though, was reminiscent of Morocco's.

Resto: The reviews said this was one of the best burgers in the city. I beg to differ. DB Bistro and Landmarc have them beat.

Swizz: Fondue. Yum. The Chicken Kiev was tasty as was the Weiner Schnitzel. My dad's patient owns this place and this time, I liked it more than the opening party.

Casa Mono: Everything was salty. Salty, salty. They tried to rush us out of the table, but we took our time. Overrated and did I mention salty?

Deshi Biryani: Awesome Hyderbadi biryani. My mom doubted the validity of a place that served Punjabi food at a place like this, but I suppose they need to cater to the "gorahs."

Dovetail: Really fantastic food, at a really fantastic value. We'd return happily.