Po

Manhattan Brooklyn
31 Cornelia Street 276 Smith Street
212-645-2189 718-875-1980

I think of myself as being made of three parts. In my head, I am Jewish - a tad neurotic with a dash of self deprecating humor. In my heart, I am British - I worship Kate Winslet, Shakespeare, and yes, I admit, Harry Potter. But in my stomach, I am nothing other than one big, fat, meatball-eating, Tony Soprano-fearing Italian. Several years ago, there was an episode of Sex and The City that posed the question, "How many great loves can one woman have in her life?" I think Carrie decided on two. Well, if that's the case, Italian food is one of mine.

Po is not the best restaurant in the city. An evening at Blue Hill or Momofuko Ko or Dovetail will offer you the most exciting and innovative culinary experience. But when I dine out, I don't follow my heart or my head. I go with my gut. And nothing quite satisfies it like Po. So while it is not, nor ever will be, the best place to eat in the city, it will always be my favorite.

Jeremy and I visited Po for the first time two years ago -- a couple of weeks after it opened a location on Smith Street in Brooklyn. A minute after we sat down, they brought us two complimentary pieces of white bean bruschetta. I immediately dove in, and after one bite, my inner pig's tale began wagging furiously. Something about the simplicity of white beans, chunks of garlic, olive oil, and fresh country bread offers such pure deliciousness of flavor that I was tempted to ask for five more pieces, until I realized that only one order was free. For dinner, we ordered the Pasta alla Amatriciana, the cured tuna, and a side of fregula. The Amatriciana is sort of like a red-sauce version of carbonara, strands of al dente spaghetti covered in a thick red sauce with garlic, onion, and generous chunks of bacon. After one bite, I fell in love with this dish so hard I actually understood what people meant when they talk about love at first sight -- and wondered if Tom Cruise wasn't a wackjob after all. I quickly came to my senses -- not wanting disturbing thoughts of Scientology and Katie Holmes to distract me from my pleasure -- and begged the owner to tell me his secret. He just smiled in his casually hip way and said, "it's really just the wild boar bacon." The fregula, which is similar to Israeli couscous, is divinely fluffy and buttery, infused with the perfect flavors of pumpkin and green onion. And the cured tuna is a meal in itself, served with white beans, artichokes, and a fabulously spicy vinaigrette.

The Pasta alla Amatriciana became a Fatal Attraction-like obsession for me. In fact, Jeremy and I traveled to the villages, coasts, and cities of Italy searching for a better, more authentic version of this dish. We had some great meals, particularly one truffled pasta dish that was so inspired I tried to convince Jeremy to abandon New York and move to Italy ("come on, they could use therapists and real estate investors in Positano!"), but we could not for the life of us find an Amatriciana we liked more than the one served at Po. I couldn't wait to tell the owner this when we arrived back in the states, until my brother-in-law told me about a new addition to the menu he insisted I try: the guinea hen. I agreed, skeptically thinking to myself "how exciting could a piece of baby chicken really be? My stomach likes pasta, not poultry!" I guess moments like that tell you that sometimes your gut is full of crap, and your head can tell you a thing or two. Trusting my bro-in-law was the smartest thing I ever did because this dish is a damn miracle. I think about it in the shower. I think about it before I go to bed. I think about it at work, when I'd rather be eating it instead. The guinea hen is grilled and cooked in saba, a delicious grape juice-like marinade that is used to season meat. It is a very generous portion, served over a bed of the addictive pumpkin fregula. I don't know if it's the saba, the meat, or the fregula, but this dish eviscerated my poultry snobbery forever. I'd start a freaking guinea hen farm if I could.

I usually skip dessert, but my inner pigginess is so appreciated at Po they always brings us a few sweet surprises. My favorite so far is the cherry panna cotta, even though it is probably 1,000 calories, something about the custard feels wonderfully airy and light. I guess that's the other reason Po is my favorite place to eat: it's not about the scene (though it is hip and classy in its unassuming way), the owners just want to make you happy. So for a little pig like me, who fantasizes about truffles, not diamonds, who would spend 500 dollars on Per Se over Prada any day of the week, Po feels like a second home. I'll never say an unkind word about a baby chicken again.

Food, fire, and frivolity at Ostia

Meatballs

Grilled Vegetables and Goat Cheese

113 Seventh Ave. South, at Christopher St.
212-924-2305

Years ago, when I was merely a freshman in college, I was in a play about sex and power in the New York City 90s. On opening night, as the curtain went up, I lit a cigarette and my hair promptly caught on fire. What happened next is a blur. All I can remember is a collective gasp and that I somehow managed to put the fire out with my hands.

After I realized that my nose hadn’t melted off my face, I briefly thought of running out of the theatre, withdrawing from school and moving back home to the Florida beaches for the rest of my life. But a fleeting image of the wrinkled old tan lady from the film “There’s Something About Mary” brought me to my senses, and I was able to continue in the play. So what if the smell of burnt chicken permeated the entire auditorium. I was an actress!

This past Thursday, at the restaurant Ostia in the West Village, I was reminded of that smell. As my friend and I were leaning in to pose for a picture, her curly locks brushed the lurid flame from the tabletop candle and went up in a blaze. It was like reliving some horrific actor’s nightmare. My friend immediately doused the fire and fled to the bathroom only to hear a nearby waitress yell, “It smells like burnt chicken in here!” Five minutes later we were laughing about the incident and the rest of the evening became a total, unmitigated blast.

I share this story because I believe it is very apropos of my dining experience at Ostia. The food is very good but it is not the star of the show. The ambiance is. The staff makes you feel right at home creating a casually hip vibe that is perfect for re-living old memories and forming fabulous new ones. That’s the reason to visit this unassuming little joint. Ostia is actually a tapas bar describing itself as a “modern Spanish establishment with old world sensitivity.” I completely obliterated my health kick once again and went to town. In this case, Seville. We ordered the patatas bravas (fried potato wedges served with spicy aioli), pisto con cana de cabra (grilled vegetables sprinkled with goat cheese), setas a la parilla (sautéed mushrooms), tortilla con setas (potato omelet with mushrooms) and pintxo moruno (pork skerewers). Lots of tasty little things, but nothing came close to the coquette de Jamon Serrano (ham croquettes) and these meatballs that were so delicious, I wouldn’t have noticed if my entire head of hair was covered in flames. I was so thrilled by these little pleasure balls I completely forgot to remember the name of the dish. Sometimes you have to forgo the details in order to embrace your inner pig. If you’re there just ask them to fry you up some balls. That will at least get their attention.

The ham croquettes were blissful, deep fried pieces of finely chopped serrano and cheese flanked by a garlicky crust so crispy, I ordered another round. It was ridiculous, I know, to insist on one more order of this dish. If I had been thinking clearly, I would have insisted on six or seven.

Next time I am in, I’ll save the calories spent on the under-seasoned potato omelet and stick to the meats and cheeses. The patatas bravas were good, particularly when doused in a pimento-based spicy aioli, but the dish was a bit uninspired. Next time, I’ll sample the chorizo a la cerveza en salsa picante (spicy paprika sausage in beer) and the trio de quesos (selection of three cheeses). So take a trip down Ostia. Perhaps you need to add a little fire to your life.

Pork Skewers Ham Croquettes, Sauteed Mushrooms Patatas Bravas

Tips

My plugged in and brilliant friend Cornelia sent me these links:

http://newyork.metromix.com/restaurants/photogallery/101-new-restaurants/359003/content
http://nymag.com/daily/food/2009/01/glamburger_on_a_budget.html

The top refers to a plethora of the new buzzworthy joints, the bottom just happens to be a fantastic deal. Apparently, Irving Mill's Glamburgers are worthy of a Gold Medal. And for the Monday night special, they basically come with a free beer. Burgers and free beer? In NYC? On second thought, THAT is my idea of heaven.

Char No 4

196 Smith st., near Baltic
718-643-2106

BLT

Pork Nuggets

About a week ago, I vowed to Jeremy that January of 2009 was going to be a month of total health for me in body, mind, and soul. No booze, no fried food, no negative attitude! Well, Friday night at Char No. 4, I completely neglected my body, but certainly fed my mind and soul! To get an accurate picture of this pork lover’s oasis, imagine what would happen to the Waffle House if Wolfgang Puck came in and reinvented its menu. That is what I would like to see when I enter the gates of heaven. Wolfgang Puck frying up hash browns at the waffle house.

We arrived around 7:30 with our fellow foodist friend, Cornelia, and waited for over an hour to snag three seats at the bar. Next time, I’ll make reservations; I still live under the false hope that dining in Brooklyn allows you to avoid such Manhattan-like behavior. We ordered three starters: lamb cured pastrami, crispy cheddar cheese curds, and smoked and fried pork nuggets. Eating one of those panko-crusted cheese curds drenched in pimento sauce made me silently weep for all vegans. Cheesy, buttery, deep fried morsels of pleasure. The lamb pastrami was good, particularly with the fixings of coriander aioli, pickled onion and crusted bread. I have to be honest though, once you have devoured the pastrami at Katz’s, its hard for any deli meat to compete. I have to be somewhat convinced that my pastrami sandwich is going to give me a heart attack in order for me to fully enjoy it. Next, we tried the deep fried pork nuggets. We popped one in and simultaneously gasped. This time, Jeremy did cry. “I feel so bad for my father!” Jeremy yelled, and knowing full well we would be horrifying him and all of our other kosher relatives, we ordered another round. The pork nuggets are deep fried, a tad spicy, and served with a hot sauce that tasted mainly of siracha. Not only are these nuggets just salty, spicy heaven, but the texture is miraculous. They literally melt in your mouth. Like my mama always said, I like my taste buds to be assaulted. This dish gets the job done. And the best part is that it’s four dollars! You can pig out and NOT overspend (pun intended).

For dinner, we ordered the house-smoked BLT, the chopped pork sandwich, and a side of sautéed kale. The chopped pork sandwich was meaty and delicious, but the BLT was downright Oscar worthy. I never knew bacon could taste that way. It was like learning that the person closest to you has a hidden superpower. The meat is braised and fried, served on crusty bread with a healthy dose of spicy mayo and, of course, lettuce and tomato. The kale was also insane, covered with homemade apple sauce and… surprise… chunks of house-cured bacon.

In order to not completely obliterate my January health kick, I managed to make it through the evening without booze , but the bourbon-centric cocktails Jeremy and Cornelia ordered looked so good, I briefly considered making out with both of them just to get a taste.

The place is not perfect – service is so rushed and harried I almost forgot I was in Brooklyn, but the food overshadows any such flaw. So any time you need a splurge (in calories, not price –the place is very moderate) take the trip to Smith Street’s new spot. See if just one order of pork nuggets is enough for you.Chopped Pork Sandwich

Lamb cured Pastrami