$9.99 Chicken Feast for Two (aka the “Dallas BBQ, What!” Post)

It was the vinyl tarp banner, flapping in the afternoon wind, that stopped us:

TWO FULL MEALS FOR $9.99
2 chicken vegetable soups, 2 rotisseried half chickens
served with cornbread and a choice of potatoes or yellow rice
(Avail Mon.-Thurs. until 11:30a-6p, Fri.-Sun. 11:30a-5p)

What. The chef and I, we stood there, incredulous. Watched the banner flap some more. It’s hard enough to get a decent meal for two at counter-service or fast food restaurants in New York City, let alone at someplace with sit-down service.

Granted, we were standing in front of a Dallas BBQ, a mini-chain perhaps better known for its boobalicious ads, tacky-cheesy quotient and fishbowl-sized drinks than real Texas-style barbecue. (As a friend once pointed out, “You don’t have to point out that the barbecue’s from Texas to a Texan,

we’ll know right away whether it is or not. That sign’s for the rest of y’all.”)

Really though, who am I to judge? I wouldn’t go so far to say that I’ve outright avoided Dallas BBQ in the past … but pretty damn close. That is, until today.

The verdict: The soup, pleasant enough, nice rich flavor to the broth. Big slice of carrot, a couple of tender shreds of chicken. The cornbread, a touch dry and mealy, in the just the way a basic cornbread should be. The fries, piping hot from the frier.

And the chicken? Frankly, it was superb.

Skin crisped and golden, the chicken literally falling off the bone, dribbles of juice running down my hands for the rest of the meal.

Writing this post is almost making me crave Dallas BBQ — that’s right, I said “crave” and “Dallas BBQ” in the same sentence — right now.

Maybe this time around I’ll go crazy and try one of those fishbowl drinks …

Dallas BBQ has several locations around New York City.
See www.dallasbbq.com for location information.

Sunday: Barbecue, Squared (and a Birthday, to Boot!)

Almost didn’t make it to the second barbecue of the day because we were busy working our way through a basket of rib tips at Brother Jimmy’s BBQ, which happen to be one of my favorite food discoveries so far in New York City — rib tips are like these gnarled, meaty, fatty end-of-rib knuckles and they’re so, so good.

I think I might like them better than ribs. The ultimate test will be when I rise to the challenge of Brother Jimmy’s Monday night special: $15.95 for all-you-can-eat rib tips and all-you-can-drink domestic draft (maximum two hours). Hot damn. We’ll find out how many rib tips this girl can truly put away when that day comes.

Thankfully, I did get to the second barbecue just in time: It was after the dishes were washed and the home-smoked pulled pork, smothered in a delicious hickory-style spicy barbecue sauce, had been packaged into leftover bags … but (and this is key) before the pork, dishes, et. al. walked out the door. Meaning, I swooped in and got one!

They layering of the sandwich is key, my friend, the pitmaster (if you’ll recall, the one responsible for the delicious tea-smoked chickens), advised: Coleslaw, then sliced white onion, then pork, pickles on top. One of these little pulled pork sandwich gems, paired with the cutest miniature cupcakes from Crumbs Bakeshop … this Sunday birthday party was kickin’ yet.

Thursday: Report from Harvest in the Square (the “Ohhh … Good Food Overload” Post)

To use a terribly-overused metaphor, I was like a kid in a candy store at Harvest in the Square, only the store was a cavernous tented event space stretching three city blocks and the candy was little menu tastes from several dozen restaurants located in the greater Union Square area — and wine shops, wineries and breweries to boot.

An hour and a half? No problem. As far as I can recount, here’s a faithful tally of my candy store rampage:

Tocqueville‘s chilled tomato consommé with a confit tomato (right) was beautiful to look at, but, pardon my unrefined palate, seemed a little oily. Also not quite a success was Back Forty‘s cold corn soup with Trinidad pepper relish — the soup had a sourness to it that I just didn’t get, and the texture was oddly … fluffy?

In the veggie sphere, I much preferred  Union Square Café‘s simple zucchini alla scapece or Gramercy Tavern‘s souffléd crackers stuffed with zucchini — so airy and poppable, it’s a good thing I didn’t discover these little gems until toward the end of the night because I would have kept popping them and not had room for, say, my second serving of Blue Water Grill‘s smoked bacon-wrapped lobster sausage (above, served with corn salsa and fennel pollen aioli). Never knew such a form of lobster existed, but my life is better for it now that I do.

The Strip House — I’ve never been, but they’re supposed to do good steaks — served a crab cake with fingerling potatoes. It was fine. But I much preferred steak places that did meat, like the Knickerbocker. Perfectly cooked strips of the restaurant’s signature T-Bone steak (right) were being snatched up faster than the chef could slice them. (If the point of a restaurant’s participation is to get you interested enough to come in sometime, and you’re a steak place, serve steak.)

More great beef: The grilled beef tenderloin and malanga fondue with truffle trumpet frisee salad (left) from brand new Pipa Tapas y Mas restaurant was a dark-horse contender for favorite of the night. And BLT Prime served a bacon-crusted Wagyu flatiron with corn roasted bell pepper salad and bacon chimchurri that sounded more complicated in the placard than what I got on my plate, but it was a nice bite.

Wildwood BBQ‘s whole pig (right) was definitely the most ambitious display of the night; the pulled pork sliders with coleslaw and chipotle BBQ sauce were okay, but a little boring compared to the smoked pork spare riblets being served at Hill Country‘s table (served with mac & longhorn cheddar cheese).

Hands down, my overall favorite of the night was Almond, who had a gorgeous, potatoes-overflowing and rock salt display and a brilliant dish (left): house-smoked blue fish and potato chips, dill, goat yogurt. It’s like chips and dip deconstructed, pure mouth bliss. And entirely original. I will go to this restaurant specifically to order this dish in the future.

More from the fish front: SushiSamba did a kanpachi tiradito with heirloom tomatoes, fresh yuzu and white truffle oil, which was clean and just a lovely bite of sushi. And while I wanted so much to love ‘Wichcraft’s fluke with vodka-infused watermelon, charred chilies and basil — sounds so exotic — it was really overwhelming. The charred bits were almost gritty, whoa there vodka-soaked fruit.

… and, dessert. The Stand‘s mini toasted marshmallow shakes were perhaps one of the most adorable presentations of the evening, each topped with its own chocolate-dusted marshmallow. The perfect serving size for this sort of event: a few good sips and you’re done and SO satisfied.

And the guys hand-shaving the ice for market-flavor treats at Todd English’s Olives table get the award for hardest working team. Literally, hand-shaving ice. It’s like kitchen time-out to have to do that job. The flavors were ambitious and fascinating: Horachata was the clear winner. The creaminess improves the shaved ices, and it comes dotted with tiny raisins. Other flavors were: butternut squash, spiced cider and pomegranate.

On my way out I grabbed at beignet from ilili — so glad I did. It was the perfect sweet bite to end on.

Other miscellany: Whole Foods’ “Ploughman’s snack,” which featured local ingredients from Rick’s Picks, Schoolhouse Kitchen and Sprout Creek Farm on these fantastic plates made from fallen leaves by VerTerra Dinnerware out of Long Island City showcased all the locally-produced items beautifully. You could tell it was a really thought-out presentation. And then there’s the guac — I just couldn’t say no, not when I see the Rosa Mexicano team pounding out fresh batches in giant stone pestels (left).

… And about those noodles from Republic that were handed out in tiny orange and blue-colored take-out boxes? Mine ended up in my purse for later…

The Brocton, NY Edition: And These Are My Grandpa’s Chicken Wings.

In certain circles, my grandpa is known for a lot of things. Of the stories I hear, one of the things he’s most famous for are his chicken wings.

30 pounds of wings … 60 pounds of wings for that … do you remember when we did 100 pounds for such-and-such party? The man has single-handedly cooked tens of thousands of pounds of chicken wings.

To back it up just a bit: Buffalo, N.Y., purports to be the origin of the chicken-wing-as-bar-snack. Somewhere in those murky decades before my existence, my grandpa fine-tuned his own sauce recipe that even now remains a secret. It’s a damn good sauce: lip-smacking spicy in just the way you want it to be, without burning out your throat. Blue cheese dressing cuts the heat, if you need it. No wonder he’s a local legend.

On this visit, the wings were part of that classic American round robin, the pot luck (aka barbecue, or picnic). There is one rule: Bring yourselves, and bring a dish to share.

I just adore these events. You get the most incredible cornucopia of foods you might not ordinarily eat, or even imagine existed. Your plate becomes a veritable petri dish of American food culture.

Consider the specimen that is Plate no. 1, clockwise from the chicken wings: There’s a baked, cheesy, hashbrown dish; baby pickles; half a Johnsonville Beddar Cheddar brat (with spicy mustard); nacho salad made with lettuce, ground beef, Doritos nacho cheese chip crumbles, and more. (bacon?)

No one eats like this, normally, all the time. That’s why it’s such a treat.

Take, for example, my favorite item on Plate no. 2, the dessert plate, which is located at the top. Yes, that fluffy, very orange “7-Up salad” gets its glow from orange Jello, CoolWhip, canned fruit (I think), 7-Up (I’m assuming) and more.

I should know this because I watched my grandma make it this morning, and I pretty much ate a bowl of it for breakfast … Clockwise from the 7-Up salad is a banana creme pudding dish; a strudel bar and chocolate cherry cake. All homemade.

… And, to wash it all down, your pick of beers. There’s always a fully-stocked beer fridge, which, by definition, is a separate, secondary fridge, usually located in a garage, full of beer.

Oh, to have a beer fridge in New York City…

Where were we partying? There’s an interior shot of the shed, pre-party, after the jump:

Tuesday: A Delicious Feast of Tea Eggs, Tea Leaf-Smoked Chicken and More. (aka the “Weber Smoker Trial Run!” Post)

When I go to a meal at someone’s house, generally there’s something that I can do to help. (And if I’m not in or near the kitchen, it’s because I was told to get out.) (And even then I generally linger.)

At this delicious feast, however, there was a very specific moment when I realized that there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to improve the efficiency of the cooks, even if I tried. So instead, I kicked back, relaxed (it was held in my honor), tended a skillet here, poked a bird there, and learned a couple things…

… Like, did you know that that most meticulous and technical method of cooking, sous vide, had anything even remotely in common with smoke-cooking foods?

In fact, the proud owner of a shiny, new Weber 2820 Smokey Mountain Cooker/Smoker explained, between the evenly-regulated interior temperature, the bowl of water inside the smoker (which helps regulate the temperature) and the long cooking time, cooking with a smoker is sort of like a hotter-temperature sous vide. Sort of.

(This friend also has a certain tenacity for the highly-technical side of cooking, as opposed to the “throw a bunch of shit in a pot” approach: He’s the author of the occasional blog, Sous Vide or Not Sous Vide?, and carbonates his own water (above), among other beverages).

Which means the chickens — (2) 4-lb. chickens and (1) 7-lb. chicken — cooked away over coals and smoldering loose leaf tea from Chinatown for a good three-to-four hours (the big guy even longer), and still came out as moist as could be, with just the faintest smokey taste.*

Inside, hard-boiled eggs simmered in soy sauce, tea leaves and a concoction of spices for as long as the chickens cooked, sending one of the most delicious fragrances I’ve ever smelled in my life wafting through the apartment.

… Then the second cook arrived, and yelled at us for leaving the egg shells on that long. Apparently removing the shells earlier in the process (but after the eggs are boiled, of course), sort of speeds up the process, turning the cooked egg white a dark chocolate brown? True story.

Then I watched her chop the bok choy. Sure, I’ve cooked bok choy a bunch of times. But to separate the leaves from the cores, and the gorgeous, sconce-like symmetry inside the bok choy? I was a little bit in awe. No wonder designers of all sorts cite nature as their muse. You just can’t make this shit up.

The kale lesson was a little more practical: Just treat it like stauncher spinach. (I’ve cooked kale before but followed some ridiculous recipe that made it way too complicated.) All you really have to do really, I learned, is wash, chop and pan-cook, preferably with some sort of fatty protein like bacon or almonds to get in all the crevices. Like with spinach, be prepared for shrinkage.

This was the end result. Fluffy, white rice, with crispy-brown bits on the bottom (yum!), and tea leaf-smoked chicken, to start. Then stuff your bowl with bok choy, kale and topped with a tea egg … and eat.

*For a stronger smoked taste, read your smoker’s manual and opt for the suggested method of lighting, which is probably to use a chimney starter.

Sunday: Manhattan Circumference Scouting Trip (aka the Epic Bike Ride)

On Sunday, I biked the circumference of Manhattan. Clocking in at almost 35 miles, (including a few errant detours), I wouldn’t exactly call this an eating-centric ride, although we did make some great pit stops.

What it was, was: Part adventure, part fitness challenge, part remedy to summer island fever — if we didn’t get off the island literally, at least we were in parts we’d never seen before — and a really amazing day.

Our route: We began on the West Side bike path at about Christopher Street, 10:45 a.m. We headed in a counter-clockwise direction for one reason: Oh how sweet it is for the last fifth of the ride to just cruise down that long, curving bike path that runs along the West Side of the island, from nearly 200th Street all the way home. Nearly a straight  shot (no more lumpy island bell curves adding mileage), the sun on your face, virtually flat track. It’s the only way to finish.

On the topic of lumpy island bell curves … the bottom bit is full of them. I thought it outrageous when it was proposed that our first stop would be above 40th Street on the East Side but, in fact, it makes so much sense. Power through, and do it. Slog through that bottom part and take a snack/juice/coffee break once you’re clear of it. There’s still a whole lot of island left.

Pit Stop no. 1: Orchard House Cafe, E. 58th Street at Fifth First Avenue. What a little gem! I’ve walked within two blocks of here, but had never seen it before. As we rode by, I literally slammed on the breaks — we have to stop here.

It’s a total neighborhood spot: Light meals, coffee stop by day, in the evening it kicks up a notch with wine and miscellaneous entertainment. The food isn’t exactly gourmet, but they bring in from decent sources. My angel food cake “muffin” with a drizzle of lemon frosting on top was so light and fluffy, almost efferescent — the perfect alternative for anyone who is not into hard, dense muffins.

Pit Stop no. 2: Indian Road Market & Cafe, 218th Street at Indian Road. Indian Road is, essentially, the northern-most road on the island. (There’s a park on top of that that is technically closer to the proverbial tip, but this is the last establishment.)

I love this place! Inside, it’s a coffee shop/specialty market on one side — really great refridgerated case of craft beers — and a proper sit-down restaurant and bar on the other. On weekends, a live pianist gives the place a real sense of class. The staff are delightful.

In the park across the road, we shared a lovely but simple salad spruced up with a side of breakfast sausage (perk of brunch menu). and a couple of bottles of GUS Extra Dry Ginger Ale — so fizzy and refreshing.

Pit Stop no. 3: Dinosaur Bar-B-Cue, W. 131st Street at Riverside Drive. With only about 130 blocks left to go, it was time to celebrate. A giant plate of some of the most giant chicken wings in the city and a bucket of El Presidente beers (6) did the trick — a small meal by Dinosaur Bar-B-Cue standards, but oh so satisfying nonetheless. Powered by beer and wings, we were on cruise mode the rest of the way home.

The Fourth of July Weekend Wrap-Up Post

Oh, Fourth of July. Every year you are the ultimate excuse for the ultimate indulgence of all food things American: barbecue, burgers, hot dogs, beer, backyards (or, in New York’s case, roofs and patios), and every year I take you up on your offer. 

This year I started extra early (unintentionally) on Thursday night, when I shared an order of dry-rubbed chicken wings and a bacon cheeseburger at Daddy-O in the West Village, along with a pair of one of the best cocktails I’ve had in a really long time:

It’s called the Eastside, and is gin muddled with cucumber, mint and lime juice, shaken and served frothy cold in a martini glass. Really, the ultimate summer refreshment. Just look at all the floating fresh bits! The picture doesn’t quite tell the story, but they were layered, suspended, in the drink at different levels and looked really cool. 

The next day, we celebrated the official federal holiday in style with happy hour at Brother Jimmy’s BBQ. There’s one close to my Upper East Side neighborhood, but there are also about a half-dozen other locations around the city. Brilliant happy hour: Between 4p-7p, domestic draft pints (Bud and Bud Light) are $2 and all appetizers are half-price at the bar. 

We tried the frickles, deep-fried pickles served with a creamy horseradish sauce; the peel-and-eat shrimp, which are doused in Old Bay seasoning and come with lemon wedges and a zesty, homemade cocktail sauce; and a basket of rib tips, the brilliant discovery of the day.

What are rib tips? As far as I could discern, rib tips are the knobs and ends of the rib rack which are usually chopped off to give a slab of ribs that uniform cut. The result are knobs of bone, fat and meat that have been as slow and as long as the rest of the rack, and that are heavy with meaty bits. Each rib tip takes a little bit of inspection and the willingness to get down and dirty, but it’s worth it: The meat is supremely succulent and tender.

At happy hour, a basket of these bits goes for $4 — a really good deal. Brother Jimmy’s has a Monday night special of all-you-can-eat rib tips, wings and all-you-can-drink domestic beer (2 hours max) for $15.95 that is a great deal, except that I probably wouldn’t be able to finish too many more than the $4 happy hour basket. Oh, but they’re so good. A basket has plenty enough rib tips to sample all of Brother Jimmy’s sauces, which arrive in a rack with any barbecue order. The sauces are lighter and more vinegar-y, as is the way with South Carolina-style barbecue. 

On the Fourth of July I found myself in the unusual position of fresh stovetop-grilled hot dog in hand — just as the now-famous Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest at Coney Island was about to begin. 

It’s odd to say that I ate my one dog in the time it took these professional eater-bingers to consume 50-plus, but I’m confident I enjoyed it more. No bun dipping in water necessary.

Elsewhere at the party: Pizza, a plate of brownies, plenty of beers and plenty of friends. It was a good holiday.

Lunch: Hawaiian Barbecue In the Most Unexpected of Places (and Cheap!)

BBQ Chicken: $6.25. Huh? Never eaten here, but I could of sworn from the window display of a table set with a plate of plastic sushi that Osaka was a Japanese restaurant. (Plus, there’s usually something in a name.)

Turns out, the barbecue is Hawaiian-style, which means the chicken (there’s also spare ribs, for a few dollars more) is tenderized and marinated in a sweet, hybrid teriyaki-barbecue sauce, grilled, and served on a bed of rice with some salad greens.

Yeah, it’s really good chicken. Big flavor, a lot of tenderness, succulence retained: This chicken absolutely destroys the parched, bland, “grill-charred” chicken breasts you find added to salads and pasta dishes, and lurking at delis, waiting to be tucked into sandwiches.

Next time, I’m going to ask for some extra sauce on the side. I found myself wishing I had some to pour all over the chicken and mash into the rice. It’d make it that much better. (As you can see, I had no issue finishing off the plate without sauce.)

About those spare ribs … The $6.25 barbecue chicken special is part of Osaka’s walk-in, off-the-regular-menu specials, and ends up being pretty basic. The Hawaiian meal listed on the menu ($8.99) opens up a whole new world: You get your choice of chicken or spare ribs, served with rice, soup, shumai, a California roll and salad. Hell yeah.

TIP: The walk-in, off-the-regular-menu menu has a number of lunch specials that hit the sweet spot, wallet-wise. Something to consider if you can ever move past the barbecue. (Photo of menu after the jump.)

Breakfast/Lunch: Oh, Glorious Leftovers! (aka the “not brunch” post)

Too late for breakfast, too early for lunch, I just don’t have the heart to call the chicken and coleslaw leftovers from the feast at Dinosaur Bar-B-Que that I plowed through in about five minutes flat at 11:30 this morning “brunch.” 

First of all, brunch is such a civilized affair — yes, even the boozy ones, at least initially. Friends, families, others, set dates, pick restaurants, come together to indulge in the weekend’s leisurely pace, talk, laugh, otherwise socialize, simply enjoy a good meal and good company. 

Secondly, isn’t brunch a weekend thing? I mean, if Friday was one of my “days off” (it’s not) I might consider calling a late morning/early afternoon brunch. “Might” being the operative word there. 

Let’s call it a truce, shake hands and move onto what has the potential to be a very interesting dinner …

Dinner: And What a Feast it Was (the Dinosaur Bar-B-Cue Post)

The crew that made the trek to Dinosaur Bar-B-Cue in Harlem on a rainy Wednesday night counted a dozen-ish. We arrived about 8:30p and were the last to leave. In between, we consumed:

2 orders Jumbo Bar-B-Cue chicken wings (13 ct.)
3 full racks of ribs (Bar-B-Cue rib smackers)
1 lb. barbecued pork, hand-pulled
1 lb. beef brisket, Texas style
1 chicken, special of the night, jerk-style sauce

bucket of Pork Slap beer

1 qt. Bar-B-Cue beans
1 qt. simmered greens
1 qt. Syracuse-style salt potatoes
1 qt. mac n cheese
1 qt. cole slaw
1 qt. Creole potato salad

2 Key lime pie slices
1 Chocolate Icebox pie
1 Fruit Crisp

5 buckets of Pork Slap beer (6 ct.)

Can I have a moment of silence for our complete and utter fullness?

[Silence.]

Whew. There were so many of us that we ordered our meats by the rack and by the pound, and our sides by the quart, and hit up all of Dinosaur Bar-B-Cue’s best, which include:

#1 The ribs. They’re huge and meaty, falling-off-the-bone tender, perfect alone or improved with a swipe of Dinosaur Bar-B-Cue’s regular (sweet) or spicy (mildly spicy) sauce. Definitely the house specialty, as someone pointed out last night, it’s kind of hard to order and not end up with ribs on your plate. (All the meat combo plates come standard with a 1/4 rack of ribs.)

#2 The Jumbo Bar-B-Cue chicken wings. Get a mix of spicy and regular — spicy isn’t too spicy. I am no chicken wing connoisseur. In fact, when I eat chicken wings I’m making an exception. Too, too often they’re small, fatty, dry, the sauce slathered on thick in an attempt to compensate for inadequacies in other (aforementioned) departments. Like I said, I do make exceptions. My grandpa in Buffalo, N.Y., has his own killer sauce recipe, his own commercial deep-frier, and makes every batch himself. To which I say, “Yes, please!”
Dinosaur Bar-B-Cue’s wings are another exception.

#3 The Syracuse-style salt potatoes. I have no idea what that means. I assume the “Syracuse” reference is a nod to Dinosaur Bar-B-Cue’s first location, in Upstate New York (their third and only other location is in Rochester, N.Y.) … In fact, a quick Google search reveals salt potatoes are a regional specialty of upstate/central New York, which means the “Syracuse-style” bit in the listing on the menu is redundant. (See the Wikipedia entry here, and this recipe from the New York Times.) Regardless, these thin-skinned, cut-with-your-fork tender, little morsels are some of the best potatoes I’ve ever had in my life.

And lastly, #4, Key lime pie. I missed out on the photo op, so here’s a photo of my whole plate of food instead, but this pie is just … pillow-y and cool and smooth and creamy and not-too-sweet, lightly lime-y taste that is so refreshing after plates of barbecued meat and the rest. Which is not to say that Key lime pie is light in calories, either (surely the pie is indebted to heavy cream for its silkiness); it’s a fitting end to a feast.