Ocean Palace, on Central Ave. about a block to the west of the Everett Road exit, used to be my favorite place to get authentic Chinese food in the Albany area. It still has a Biblical menu and there are always people there: a mix of Chinese folks and Caucasians. They have a very bizarre movie screen in the back that inoffensively plays inexplicable Chinese videos (landscapes and such), but this is easily avoidable, because there's plenty of seating at the front.
You really have to know how and what to order here, and it would help to know Chinese, but there are so many wonderful dishes that you really can't find anywhere else that it's worth wading through some of the not-so-great stuff. Highlights are a whole section of the menu is devoted to Chinatown Style Noodle Soups; there's also a hotpot section of the menu, as well as lots of salt dishes, like salted flounder; pepper w/salty scallop. There are, of course, the typical Americanized offerings like General Tso's chicken, fried or steamed dumplings, and spring rolls. You'll also find the more exotic-sounding Sweet Corn Soup with Fish Maw and Virginia Ham Soup with Fish Maw, which I've never ordered, but it's nice to know I could if I wanted to. I watched someone bring the soy sauce chicken (or maybe it was duck? hard to tell) to a young man, and it looked fabulous. That's the really good news.
Their dim sum is less impressive, with more of a greasy quotient. Another thing to realize about Ocean Palace is that their take-out menu contains maybe only half of the choices you'll find in the restaurant. You have to be there to know about offerings like Fresh Lily Bulb with Tofu in Special with Sauce [sic] (I think that one should win an award for most poetic entrée), or Blue Crab with Ginger and Scallion, as well as a range of lobster dishes and, the other night, Dungeness crab as a special.
Ocean Palace still rivals Emperor's for my number one Chinese restaurant. However, they seem to be experiencing some kind of change in management; the other night, the waiters seemed incredibly clueless (we were not the only diners who had to call our waiter over so we could order), and some of the dishes, like Chinese broccoli, were not as good as expected: the broccoli was cooked a minute or so too long, and they used to serve it with a garlicky sauce, whereas the other night it just came in blah oyster sauce.
Once we did catch the waitress's attention, she seemed bashful and overly attentive, and she made a valiant effort to answer my questions about types of sauce on various shrimp dishes. However, her attention to diners was still pretty erratic throughout the evening. And, at the end of the evening, she asked us if we wanted special "Chinese orange" slices; they're extra sweet. Um right; as opposed to those radically different American oranges?! Come on. I hope they get their service straightened out, but in the meantime, be prepared.
The other night, I ordered the Pepper with Salty Shrimp, which came with grilled onions, chives, and jalapenos and were quite good. The only problem (and you may feel less squeamish about this) was that all the yummy salt breading was on the outside, on the shell of the shrimp. I suppose I could have sucked it off, but I just didn't feel like it, so quite the struggle ensued so that I could de-shell the shrimp without losing all the flavor.
My all-time favorite thing to get at Ocean palace is the black-bean sauce sea bass, which used to appear with regularity on their specials board; it wasn't available the other night (although it might be the kind of thing you can ask for, if you can get through to the waitstaff, since they did have steamed sea bass available). My other favorite dish is the yellow chive chow fun; simple but heavenly. My dinner partner got the orange beef off the Schzechuan menu, which was more like your standard greasy spoon Chinese restaurant fare, although not so bad. Their noodle dishes (like chow funs and Singapore Chow Mei Fun) are pretty darn good most of the time, and they have a large vegetarian section with tofu and other dishes. I'll definitely go back and report on how they're doing; they have all the ingredients for greatness.
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Justin's, Lark Street
Justin's is a sedate, tastefully decorated restaurant with upscale American fare right on Lark Street near Madison. They have jazz most weeks Wednesdays-Saturdays and also Sunday brunch jazz. It's a good place to take a date you want to impress. On the other hand, if you're already nervous about your date, go somewhere else; Justin's won't break the ice.
The menu was impressive, with appetizers like Salmon Cakes with aioli or a Coconut Scallop Tempura, which I am going to have to try the next time I'm there. Their fish chowder was excellent (although it was not as piping hot as I would have liked). One of my dinner companions got the Confetti Corn Fritters--they were okay, but not earth-shattering-- my other dinner companion ordered the Salad Chop Chop, which looked quite good.
Our main courses were the Meditteranean Ravioli, which were lackluster (tomatoes are now out of season, and the filling was somewhat bland); the Zuppe di Clams-- my quite pleasing dinner, which came with pasta al dente and nice, clean tender clams in a 'clammy' broth with garlic-- and the Jamaican Jerk Chicken, which was wayyy too much to eat in one sitting but gets a thumbs up. A gripe: not quite so much broth should go into the Zuppa di Clams; without it, it wouldn't really be a Zuppa, but I think that would be quite alright. A little clam flavor goes a long way, and with a lot of liquid, pasta can get slippery to eat.
Justin's seems strongest in the meat-and-fish department, with most main courses being hearty traditional fare like Blackened Sea Bass and Spice Rubbed Steak; if you're a veggie who doesn't eat fish, you basically have only one main course option, (when we were there, the ravioli) although you could do quite nicely here (veggie or no) to order two appetizers in lieu of a main course.
Our one complaint was that the service was too slow. We had a show to catch, and even though we ordered by 6:30 (having arrived at 6 pm), our main courses didn't arrive until almost 7:30. Admittedly, we should have told the waitresses about our show right away; but we thought we had left more than enough time. Regardless of the show, the tempo in there seemed glacially stoic; maybe most people go there for the music, and so don't mind waiting.
Justin's brings up my biggest gripe with Capital District dining: fine dining (or at least what is considered by the majority to be fine dining) around here feels stiff and forced. In New York City or Boston, going out somewhere nice doesn't mean having to sacrifice liveliness or simplicity of food. It's *okay* to order a risotto at a fine Italian restaurant as your main dish. You shouldn't have to order the duck-encrusted-salmon-with-truffles-and-marjoram-salsa-reduction to get wonderful food; the test of a great restaurant is that its basic and humble dishes (pasta, mashed potatoes, breads-- um, am I starch-obsessed much?) should be just as toothsome as its more flamboyant ones. I do like to be spoiled, but I don't like a fuss. Too many of the more upper-price-range restaurants around here tiptoe around as though really good food were an extraordinary event like a comet or an asteroid (note: I'm not talking about Saratoga, only the immediate Albany-Schenectacy-Troy triangle). Great food should be a daily affair; elegant but not pompous. You should be able to engage in conversation with your dinner mates and almost forget that you are at a fine restaurant. Justin's had a little bit of self-consciousness about the atmosphere and the presentation, as if to say: "Yes, I AM a good restaurant, even though I'm right next to the Dunkin Donuts and up the street from Lark Street's weekend drinking goobers."
Where are the simply damn good restaurants around here? I'm still searching.
The menu was impressive, with appetizers like Salmon Cakes with aioli or a Coconut Scallop Tempura, which I am going to have to try the next time I'm there. Their fish chowder was excellent (although it was not as piping hot as I would have liked). One of my dinner companions got the Confetti Corn Fritters--they were okay, but not earth-shattering-- my other dinner companion ordered the Salad Chop Chop, which looked quite good.
Our main courses were the Meditteranean Ravioli, which were lackluster (tomatoes are now out of season, and the filling was somewhat bland); the Zuppe di Clams-- my quite pleasing dinner, which came with pasta al dente and nice, clean tender clams in a 'clammy' broth with garlic-- and the Jamaican Jerk Chicken, which was wayyy too much to eat in one sitting but gets a thumbs up. A gripe: not quite so much broth should go into the Zuppa di Clams; without it, it wouldn't really be a Zuppa, but I think that would be quite alright. A little clam flavor goes a long way, and with a lot of liquid, pasta can get slippery to eat.
Justin's seems strongest in the meat-and-fish department, with most main courses being hearty traditional fare like Blackened Sea Bass and Spice Rubbed Steak; if you're a veggie who doesn't eat fish, you basically have only one main course option, (when we were there, the ravioli) although you could do quite nicely here (veggie or no) to order two appetizers in lieu of a main course.
Our one complaint was that the service was too slow. We had a show to catch, and even though we ordered by 6:30 (having arrived at 6 pm), our main courses didn't arrive until almost 7:30. Admittedly, we should have told the waitresses about our show right away; but we thought we had left more than enough time. Regardless of the show, the tempo in there seemed glacially stoic; maybe most people go there for the music, and so don't mind waiting.
Justin's brings up my biggest gripe with Capital District dining: fine dining (or at least what is considered by the majority to be fine dining) around here feels stiff and forced. In New York City or Boston, going out somewhere nice doesn't mean having to sacrifice liveliness or simplicity of food. It's *okay* to order a risotto at a fine Italian restaurant as your main dish. You shouldn't have to order the duck-encrusted-salmon-with-truffles-and-marjoram-salsa-reduction to get wonderful food; the test of a great restaurant is that its basic and humble dishes (pasta, mashed potatoes, breads-- um, am I starch-obsessed much?) should be just as toothsome as its more flamboyant ones. I do like to be spoiled, but I don't like a fuss. Too many of the more upper-price-range restaurants around here tiptoe around as though really good food were an extraordinary event like a comet or an asteroid (note: I'm not talking about Saratoga, only the immediate Albany-Schenectacy-Troy triangle). Great food should be a daily affair; elegant but not pompous. You should be able to engage in conversation with your dinner mates and almost forget that you are at a fine restaurant. Justin's had a little bit of self-consciousness about the atmosphere and the presentation, as if to say: "Yes, I AM a good restaurant, even though I'm right next to the Dunkin Donuts and up the street from Lark Street's weekend drinking goobers."
Where are the simply damn good restaurants around here? I'm still searching.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Jack's Oyster House
Recently I was at Jack's Oyster House for the first time with a large group to celebrate a birthday. It's an impressive restaurant: wood paneling, tall ceilings, and gorgeous flower arrangements give it an air of Old New York luxury, a la Edith Wharton. I could just picture one of her dyspeptic characters, George Dorset, dining on terrapin here and complaining about it. Established in 1913, Jack's still draws in lots of customers; in fact, on a Thursday night it was jam-packed. The maitre d'hotel was gracious, and our waiter introduced himself-- but I have to say that after that, the service was less than impressive for such an old standard.
This is a great place to take someone you want to impress, but there are a couple of drawbacks. One is that it is extremely noisy. The floor appears to be stone or tile (with that lovely old fashioned black-and-white checkerboard pattern), and there is no carpeting; the ceilings are high, and so the sound reverberates. So don't take a date here if you want to be amorous; also, don't take grandma with the hearing aid.
The food was really good, but it's not as uniformly great as the restaurant wants you to think it is: I had the famous Manhattan Clam Chowder, which was okay; but it doesn't even approach the classic taste of, for example, Legal Seafood chowders in Boston. There is a tendency at Jack's to overdo dishes, which is a tendency of Old New York: one of the dishes on the classic menu is "Creamy Lobster Newburg Accented with Sherry Served in a Sourdough Bread Bowl," for example. A sourdough bread bowl?! Isn't that something you'd find more aptly at a Bagel Barn or Bounteous Bread franchise? That sort of thing seems out of place at a classic Northeastern seafood joint. Here's another one to accent your arteries: "Sizzling duck and foie gras fried rice with roasted pineapple, edamame, and scallion." That sounds just gross, in every sense of the word. Also, you'll find steak "bathed in a brandy mustard demi-cream," ($21.99), half a duck "lacquered with a pacific rim orange ginger glaze," and, most confusingly to me, lamb "with a garlic mustard crust and mint tomato jam" (also $21.99). When I used to eat meat, I remember being somewhat put off by overly fussy preparations. Garlic mustard AND mint tomato is a thicket of flavors, not a creative fusion. Pick one or the other, if you're going to be a classic restaurant.
We lucked out because during the month of January, Jack's had a prix fixe menu for $19.13, to commemorate their founding year. For that amount, I got a nice salad, plus the basil and pine nut encrusted salmon, and a dessert. (The chowder was a la carte.) The salmon was wonderful; it didn't taste much of basil, but the crust was buttery and crunchy, and it was 'day boat salmon,' (whatever the heck that means-- never did get to ask the waiter) which was really fresh and moist. Some of my dining compatriots got the oysters and the shrimp cocktail appetizers, which both looked fantastic. Another one of us got the sea bass, which also looked great.
The dessert was a real disappointment: I got the apple dumpling, which was a lackluster filo-type shell with boring apple filling. The chocolate cake was another item on the prix fixe menu, and it looked like a miniature bundt cake-- I couldn't tell if it was good or not, but there was nothing interesting about it.
The service was slow, and not particularly helpful; if the group I was with hadn't known about the prix fixe menu ahead of time, the wait staff never would have told us. With all the choices at a place like Jack's, you need wait staff who can explain things patiently and make recommendations. At least this one night, that was not the experience I had.
They said they do occasionally have prix fixe deals-- maybe twice a year-- so it's worth calling ahead and asking, because it's quite expensive a la carte.
This is a great place to take someone you want to impress, but there are a couple of drawbacks. One is that it is extremely noisy. The floor appears to be stone or tile (with that lovely old fashioned black-and-white checkerboard pattern), and there is no carpeting; the ceilings are high, and so the sound reverberates. So don't take a date here if you want to be amorous; also, don't take grandma with the hearing aid.
The food was really good, but it's not as uniformly great as the restaurant wants you to think it is: I had the famous Manhattan Clam Chowder, which was okay; but it doesn't even approach the classic taste of, for example, Legal Seafood chowders in Boston. There is a tendency at Jack's to overdo dishes, which is a tendency of Old New York: one of the dishes on the classic menu is "Creamy Lobster Newburg Accented with Sherry Served in a Sourdough Bread Bowl," for example. A sourdough bread bowl?! Isn't that something you'd find more aptly at a Bagel Barn or Bounteous Bread franchise? That sort of thing seems out of place at a classic Northeastern seafood joint. Here's another one to accent your arteries: "Sizzling duck and foie gras fried rice with roasted pineapple, edamame, and scallion." That sounds just gross, in every sense of the word. Also, you'll find steak "bathed in a brandy mustard demi-cream," ($21.99), half a duck "lacquered with a pacific rim orange ginger glaze," and, most confusingly to me, lamb "with a garlic mustard crust and mint tomato jam" (also $21.99). When I used to eat meat, I remember being somewhat put off by overly fussy preparations. Garlic mustard AND mint tomato is a thicket of flavors, not a creative fusion. Pick one or the other, if you're going to be a classic restaurant.
We lucked out because during the month of January, Jack's had a prix fixe menu for $19.13, to commemorate their founding year. For that amount, I got a nice salad, plus the basil and pine nut encrusted salmon, and a dessert. (The chowder was a la carte.) The salmon was wonderful; it didn't taste much of basil, but the crust was buttery and crunchy, and it was 'day boat salmon,' (whatever the heck that means-- never did get to ask the waiter) which was really fresh and moist. Some of my dining compatriots got the oysters and the shrimp cocktail appetizers, which both looked fantastic. Another one of us got the sea bass, which also looked great.
The dessert was a real disappointment: I got the apple dumpling, which was a lackluster filo-type shell with boring apple filling. The chocolate cake was another item on the prix fixe menu, and it looked like a miniature bundt cake-- I couldn't tell if it was good or not, but there was nothing interesting about it.
The service was slow, and not particularly helpful; if the group I was with hadn't known about the prix fixe menu ahead of time, the wait staff never would have told us. With all the choices at a place like Jack's, you need wait staff who can explain things patiently and make recommendations. At least this one night, that was not the experience I had.
They said they do occasionally have prix fixe deals-- maybe twice a year-- so it's worth calling ahead and asking, because it's quite expensive a la carte.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Anselmo's: I wish I didn't have to say this
Anselmo's in Troy is on Ferry Street, easily accessible from many routes (Routes 4, 2, and 7). It's in a venerable building that, long ago, according to my sources, used to be an Italian restaurant called Volcano. Then it was a gay bar/club. Now it's Anselmo's, and I'm really disappointed.
It's usually lively there, which is a nice change. It's creepy to go to a restaurant where you're the only patrons. I'm trying to tell you the good news first, but I'm quickly running out. Okay, one more good thing: the garlic bread is really good.
The first time we went, the waiter was pretty scary. It seemed like old Anselmo, the proprietor, just kinda picked this waiter up off the street, and plopped him down in front of the eggplant parm. The waiter kept telling us "You will LOVE the garlic bread. I don't lie! I'm telling you: ask anyone. You've GOTTA get the garlic bread." He had intense eyes and he wouldn't leave us alone. "Now Anselmo's, they cook REAL good Italian food. It's authentic! They use the best ingredients. ANYthing you want, it's gonna be good. Trust me."
I felt like he was trying to sell us on a drug deal rather than wait on us. "Um, could we please have a little less waiter in the soup?" Later I overheard this same waiter talking about women problems (am I surprised?), while he was eating his own dinner with the other waitstaff. He seemed like an angry fellow, and since he looked to be over 6 feet tall and in good shape, we didn't want to make any false moves: we got the garlic bread. And it *was* good. The salad was also good (note to vegetarians: Anselmo's puts slices of bologna in its perfectly good salad, so if this offends you, which it does me, you should tell them "no bologna.")
Now the bad news: the eggplant parm was drowning in cheesy fatty sauce. I didn't get any of that nice smoky eggplant flavor. And on our most recent visit, I had another encounter with the waitstaff that left me feeling intimidated. This time, we had a waitress, and when I asked for the mussels, she just went silent, didn't write it down, and looked at me. She looked dubious but didn't say anything. "What, is that not good?" I asked. She was still quiet. "Um, I could get the shrimp..."I faltered. I quickly looked at the menu again and said I would get the calamari. She nodded, seemingly relieved.
But it left me with a disturbing question: what is wrong with the mussels?! I'm raising my right eyebrow right now, in case you can't tell.
Since the squid was not fresh (it was just the cut rounds, not actually whole calamari), and the pasta it was served on was not particularly al dente, I was disappointed. In my grief, I gnawed on too much garlic bread. Then I was displeased with my lack of self control. I was a cranky diner. And yet I kept trying to convince myself that Anselmo's might really be good: maybe there was something flawed in *me* and I just couldn't appreciate it.
A poor dining experience can put me in a delusional mood. You might not react so extremely, but still I think you'd be better off going elsewhere, even if you live in Troy and are craving Italian. In fact, you're better off cooking pasta at home. This is the trouble with Italian food-- it's easy to achieve great results in our own kitchens. Kinda makes you wonder why so many Italian restaurants, then, get it so wrong. Anselmo's, rather than focussing on fresh food, seems to get off more on its 'atmosphere' (a sort of a grotto in the back, with stucco-ish walls, Green Man heads and foliage, dark lighting), and its prominent bar, where Anselmo himself can be found most nights, insisting you have a drink, on him.
Yeah, whatever. This is Nosher, telling you you do NOT have to settle for mediocrity.
It's usually lively there, which is a nice change. It's creepy to go to a restaurant where you're the only patrons. I'm trying to tell you the good news first, but I'm quickly running out. Okay, one more good thing: the garlic bread is really good.
The first time we went, the waiter was pretty scary. It seemed like old Anselmo, the proprietor, just kinda picked this waiter up off the street, and plopped him down in front of the eggplant parm. The waiter kept telling us "You will LOVE the garlic bread. I don't lie! I'm telling you: ask anyone. You've GOTTA get the garlic bread." He had intense eyes and he wouldn't leave us alone. "Now Anselmo's, they cook REAL good Italian food. It's authentic! They use the best ingredients. ANYthing you want, it's gonna be good. Trust me."
I felt like he was trying to sell us on a drug deal rather than wait on us. "Um, could we please have a little less waiter in the soup?" Later I overheard this same waiter talking about women problems (am I surprised?), while he was eating his own dinner with the other waitstaff. He seemed like an angry fellow, and since he looked to be over 6 feet tall and in good shape, we didn't want to make any false moves: we got the garlic bread. And it *was* good. The salad was also good (note to vegetarians: Anselmo's puts slices of bologna in its perfectly good salad, so if this offends you, which it does me, you should tell them "no bologna.")
Now the bad news: the eggplant parm was drowning in cheesy fatty sauce. I didn't get any of that nice smoky eggplant flavor. And on our most recent visit, I had another encounter with the waitstaff that left me feeling intimidated. This time, we had a waitress, and when I asked for the mussels, she just went silent, didn't write it down, and looked at me. She looked dubious but didn't say anything. "What, is that not good?" I asked. She was still quiet. "Um, I could get the shrimp..."I faltered. I quickly looked at the menu again and said I would get the calamari. She nodded, seemingly relieved.
But it left me with a disturbing question: what is wrong with the mussels?! I'm raising my right eyebrow right now, in case you can't tell.
Since the squid was not fresh (it was just the cut rounds, not actually whole calamari), and the pasta it was served on was not particularly al dente, I was disappointed. In my grief, I gnawed on too much garlic bread. Then I was displeased with my lack of self control. I was a cranky diner. And yet I kept trying to convince myself that Anselmo's might really be good: maybe there was something flawed in *me* and I just couldn't appreciate it.
A poor dining experience can put me in a delusional mood. You might not react so extremely, but still I think you'd be better off going elsewhere, even if you live in Troy and are craving Italian. In fact, you're better off cooking pasta at home. This is the trouble with Italian food-- it's easy to achieve great results in our own kitchens. Kinda makes you wonder why so many Italian restaurants, then, get it so wrong. Anselmo's, rather than focussing on fresh food, seems to get off more on its 'atmosphere' (a sort of a grotto in the back, with stucco-ish walls, Green Man heads and foliage, dark lighting), and its prominent bar, where Anselmo himself can be found most nights, insisting you have a drink, on him.
Yeah, whatever. This is Nosher, telling you you do NOT have to settle for mediocrity.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
You don't need Pancho's
Spike and I were debating on where to go for dinner (that eternal debate between partners: "Honey, what do you want to do for dinner?" "I don't know, what do YOU want?" "Hmmmm... I don't know" until someone screams or decides to plunk some pasta into a pot of boiling water), and it was between Pancho's, a chain-like restaurant that has just opened up in the Brunswick Wal-Mart Plaza (warning signs should have gone off, but a fearless chowhound is never daunted), or Ali Baba's. Spike voted for Pancho's, and I was game.
It started out innocently enough: the requisite colorful primitive Mexican-esque paintings on the wall, the stucco, the free chips and decent tomato salsa. The service was prompt, and the place was crowded, with a diverse bunch there (parents with kids, older folks, younger folks. Note to Brunswick developers: This would be a great place for a real restaurant!). However, it all started going downhill when the waiter professed not to know if they had herbal tea or not, and then came back with a definite no: all they had was decaf Lipton.
That would not have been so bad in and of itself if the food had any redeeming qualities, but except for the salsa and chips, the food was pretty awful. We would have been better off just microwaving some Amy's burritos at home. I ordered enchiladas: one with 'spinach cream,' which was really more like Campbell's cream of spinach soup in an enchilada wrapper, and one with 'cheese,' although it was distinctly like American cheese (which isn't cheese at all). The refried beans were REALLY re-fried (re-refried beans) and the rice was gummy.
Spike's meat chimichanga was okay, he said, but he agreed that next time, if we have a craving for Mexican, it's going to be José Malone's. And the price wasn't too different: together we paid $29 for two meals, drinks, and a cheese dip. The cheese dip was white, and they served it in a bowl (this seems to be a trend), but it had no real flavor.
Next....
By the way, speaking of José Malone's (which I seem to be doing a lot of lately), Maria Zemantauski, world-renowned flamenco guitarist, will be playing there starting 8 pm this Thursday, so make your reservations in advance! Visit www.mariazemantauski.com for more information on her playing. You will be amazed!
It started out innocently enough: the requisite colorful primitive Mexican-esque paintings on the wall, the stucco, the free chips and decent tomato salsa. The service was prompt, and the place was crowded, with a diverse bunch there (parents with kids, older folks, younger folks. Note to Brunswick developers: This would be a great place for a real restaurant!). However, it all started going downhill when the waiter professed not to know if they had herbal tea or not, and then came back with a definite no: all they had was decaf Lipton.
That would not have been so bad in and of itself if the food had any redeeming qualities, but except for the salsa and chips, the food was pretty awful. We would have been better off just microwaving some Amy's burritos at home. I ordered enchiladas: one with 'spinach cream,' which was really more like Campbell's cream of spinach soup in an enchilada wrapper, and one with 'cheese,' although it was distinctly like American cheese (which isn't cheese at all). The refried beans were REALLY re-fried (re-refried beans) and the rice was gummy.
Spike's meat chimichanga was okay, he said, but he agreed that next time, if we have a craving for Mexican, it's going to be José Malone's. And the price wasn't too different: together we paid $29 for two meals, drinks, and a cheese dip. The cheese dip was white, and they served it in a bowl (this seems to be a trend), but it had no real flavor.
Next....
By the way, speaking of José Malone's (which I seem to be doing a lot of lately), Maria Zemantauski, world-renowned flamenco guitarist, will be playing there starting 8 pm this Thursday, so make your reservations in advance! Visit www.mariazemantauski.com for more information on her playing. You will be amazed!
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Bomber's Burrito Bar rocks
In Albany on Lark Street you will find the oddest combination of high and low: homeless people picking through the trash for cans betwixt and between state workers talking on their cell phones. Yet, there are not enough people to make this juxtaposition fade into the background, as there are in New York City, where high, low, middle, high-middle, bottom-low, upper-upper East Side, etc. all jostle each other as they march purposefully down the avenues, making for more gradations—more grey to help us swallow the black-and-white harshness of life. Lark Street always has this harsh, ghost street feeling about it, perhaps because of a lack of foot traffic. (Come to think of it, most of the Capital District feels this way to me).
One place where the high and low comfortably fuse is at Bomber's Burrito Bar, at 258 Lark Street. Today I had a soft taco with their amazing, spectacular sweet potato fries, and the whole thing was a little more than $5. I was more than well nourished-- the soft taco was practically exploding with beans and rice, not to mention the fixin's, and I challenge ANYONE to find sweet potato fries any better within a 100 mile radius of Albany. Maybe I'll give you a quarter to feed the parking meter in Albany if you win. I like to cover my fries with extra salt and ketchup, but these fries are NOT too greasy and not too crunchy. They are fresh fresh fresh!
One of the coolest things about Bomber's is that the people who work there are young kids who are hip yet not old enough to have become utterly embittered. They still have hope. You can see it in their quirky, fun decor-- a flat of wheatgrass propping up an Incredible Hulk action figure by their cash register would make even Gov. Pataki smile, that is if he ever left his Manse. A mirror by the tables sports all manner of band stickers people have pasted up there over the years, teenager's bedroom style. There are no napkins, but paper towels (practical!) hanging on a roll by the register. Service is strictly cafeteria style, and it's fast. A sign admonishes customers not to watch the young chefs flipping burritos, as it creeps them out (good point!), so maybe read Metroland while you're waiting for your stuff.
Now that Shades of Green is gone from Lark Street (where are you, Shades of Green?!?!) Bomber's is the best casual option for vegetarians. I thought about going to Taste of Greece (193 Lark) which is excellent, but the last time I was there service was slow. I'm glad I chose Bomber's. I felt right at home.
One place where the high and low comfortably fuse is at Bomber's Burrito Bar, at 258 Lark Street. Today I had a soft taco with their amazing, spectacular sweet potato fries, and the whole thing was a little more than $5. I was more than well nourished-- the soft taco was practically exploding with beans and rice, not to mention the fixin's, and I challenge ANYONE to find sweet potato fries any better within a 100 mile radius of Albany. Maybe I'll give you a quarter to feed the parking meter in Albany if you win. I like to cover my fries with extra salt and ketchup, but these fries are NOT too greasy and not too crunchy. They are fresh fresh fresh!
One of the coolest things about Bomber's is that the people who work there are young kids who are hip yet not old enough to have become utterly embittered. They still have hope. You can see it in their quirky, fun decor-- a flat of wheatgrass propping up an Incredible Hulk action figure by their cash register would make even Gov. Pataki smile, that is if he ever left his Manse. A mirror by the tables sports all manner of band stickers people have pasted up there over the years, teenager's bedroom style. There are no napkins, but paper towels (practical!) hanging on a roll by the register. Service is strictly cafeteria style, and it's fast. A sign admonishes customers not to watch the young chefs flipping burritos, as it creeps them out (good point!), so maybe read Metroland while you're waiting for your stuff.
Now that Shades of Green is gone from Lark Street (where are you, Shades of Green?!?!) Bomber's is the best casual option for vegetarians. I thought about going to Taste of Greece (193 Lark) which is excellent, but the last time I was there service was slow. I'm glad I chose Bomber's. I felt right at home.
José Malone, part two
I ate at José Malone's again the other night, and it was still impressive, but the honeymoon is over (alas, it never lasts long for me, your discerning and spoiled Nosher). While the service was as good as before, and the ambience is still excellent, the relationship is now at the stage where I don't think they're perfect anymore.
I ordered the vegetable tamale, and while the sides (rice, beans, carrots) were awesome, the tamale was quite mushy. Maybe it's more difficult to make a vegetable tamale than a meat tamale-- I don't know, I've never made one. It was presented beautifully, but it lacked flavor. My margarita was okay, but next time I'm ordering it off the rocks.
However, the cheese dip is positively addictive. And I still recommend you go there; after all, this is what, only their third month of operation?
I ordered the vegetable tamale, and while the sides (rice, beans, carrots) were awesome, the tamale was quite mushy. Maybe it's more difficult to make a vegetable tamale than a meat tamale-- I don't know, I've never made one. It was presented beautifully, but it lacked flavor. My margarita was okay, but next time I'm ordering it off the rocks.
However, the cheese dip is positively addictive. And I still recommend you go there; after all, this is what, only their third month of operation?
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
José Malone's? Si, lads and lasses
River Street in Troy is now quite the scene: I witnessed a young woman wearing stiletto-style boots there just this evening despite the slush on the ground. It could be the critical mass of pubs, restaurants, and entertainment venues : River Street Café, Brown's Brewing Co., Revolution Hall, Ryan's Wake, and now José Malone's. The young woman in the spiky heeled boots was hanging out with another young woman, whose fashion sense was questionable: low-riding jeans with belly and rear guard hanging out, and she was not one of the ten people in the country who can wear those without looking like a plumber. Okay, so it's not the Scene, yet, but it's a lower-case scene. When you see the fledgling fashionistas flocking, it's like seagulls before a storm: you know it's coming.
Yes, you heard right: I said José Malone's. You thought fusion cuisine was so yesterday. But here in the Capital Region, yesterday is-- er, well-- today.
I used to live in New York City, where Cuban-Chinese restaurants flourished alongside Brazilian, French, Italian, Israeli, Korean, and Ukrainian. So I'm a bit spoiled. In fact, I lived two and a half blocks away from Lombardi's, the city's best (and most authentic, dating back to the early 20th century) pizzeria, hands down. I lived near Céci-Cela, a patisserie. Any kind of order-out was mine, virtually 24-hours a day.
So the Capital District seems a bit behind the times. But it is catching up, and José Malone is leading the charge with its warm, understated decor. We went on a Tuesday night in January-- not a very inspiring evening-- yet several tables of people were there, and candles were lit in wine-colored glasses. The building is one of Troy's great old brick edifices, and José Malone's proprietor had the good sense to highlight the warmth of the brick walls by leaving them alone, refinishing the lovely wood floor, and adding good lighting. The place is pretty big: tall ceilings help, but it's also long, which allowed space to build a bar separated from the main dining room by a partition. They have excellent beer, wine, and alcohol (Margaritas seemed to be a speciality) but they don't shove it in your face. If you are like me, you want good quality alcohol available but not central.
Mostly, José Malone is Mexican, with a few inspired Irish highlights: taquitos with portobellos and cheese with a side of spicy mashed potatoes. Guinness stew. Lamb as the meat in some of the Mexican dishes. The food is terrific: fresh, styled with panache, and plenty of wonderful choices for vegetarian and carnivores here. For appetizer, we had nachos and cheese; the spicy melted cheese was served in a small bowl, and now I must tell you that *every* restaurant should start doing this, because the cheese stayed warm and didn't get our hands messy. Chile rellenos queso was my main dish (although I was tempted to order the vegetable tamale-- next time), and it came with flavorful, fresh carrots prepared with tequila. I couldn't taste the tequila, but I could taste the carrots, which seemed bolder and darker orange than your usual restaurant carrot. (Maybe José is ordering from an actual farm and not a biotech company!) The chile relleno was beautifully served whole with the cute little stem still on top, fried, but not greasy. The sides were black beans with a smidge of queso dusted on the top, and rice, but not just any rice: it was more like a pilaf, with lots of good healthy brown grain in there. Not just any black beans, either: these were obviously cooked from whole dried beans and had a lovely smoke in their flavor.
I highly recommend this restaurant, but there are a couple quibbles: The chile had a spicy tomato sauce that was just a bit too spicy for me, and I usually like things moderately spicy. So you might want to ask if you have preferences for heat one way or the other. Also, they are still developing their menu, and things might change (you, reader, can impact this if you want to go, try it out, and make suggestions!) Also, there was more food than I could eat, but we're not talking disgustingly huge portions here: just generous. In reality, I could have been full on the beans, rice and nachos, without the chile and carrots. But I gave it my best college try, because damn, it was good, and I was excited to find such a unique restaurant in Troy. For an appetizer, one mint tea, and two main courses, it was about $28.
According to this Times Union review, Ray Wall is the proprietor of José Malone's; he used to be involved with El Loco Cafe in Albany, but he also plays Irish music. Hence the fusion.
The great thing about José Malone's is that you can take anyone there: a date, your mom (although I don't think mine likes Mexican, and that's a topic for another post), your buddies. This promises to be a good music place, too; there's plenty of room, and what with the dulcimer-playing owner, it's bound to happen.
I had no room for dessert, but I noticed the words 'key lime' on the menu (I think maybe cheesecake, too?), and that's one of my top 5 desserts (stay tuned for the other 4).
Tomorrow, I have to go to the gym.
Details: 405 River Street in Troy
273-2196
(It looked like they were open until around 9:30 on weeknights. I will post specifics once I call them. The article I listed above states hours, but I don't believe them, because I swear I saw 9:30, but the TU says they're open until 10. )
Yes, you heard right: I said José Malone's. You thought fusion cuisine was so yesterday. But here in the Capital Region, yesterday is-- er, well-- today.
I used to live in New York City, where Cuban-Chinese restaurants flourished alongside Brazilian, French, Italian, Israeli, Korean, and Ukrainian. So I'm a bit spoiled. In fact, I lived two and a half blocks away from Lombardi's, the city's best (and most authentic, dating back to the early 20th century) pizzeria, hands down. I lived near Céci-Cela, a patisserie. Any kind of order-out was mine, virtually 24-hours a day.
So the Capital District seems a bit behind the times. But it is catching up, and José Malone is leading the charge with its warm, understated decor. We went on a Tuesday night in January-- not a very inspiring evening-- yet several tables of people were there, and candles were lit in wine-colored glasses. The building is one of Troy's great old brick edifices, and José Malone's proprietor had the good sense to highlight the warmth of the brick walls by leaving them alone, refinishing the lovely wood floor, and adding good lighting. The place is pretty big: tall ceilings help, but it's also long, which allowed space to build a bar separated from the main dining room by a partition. They have excellent beer, wine, and alcohol (Margaritas seemed to be a speciality) but they don't shove it in your face. If you are like me, you want good quality alcohol available but not central.
Mostly, José Malone is Mexican, with a few inspired Irish highlights: taquitos with portobellos and cheese with a side of spicy mashed potatoes. Guinness stew. Lamb as the meat in some of the Mexican dishes. The food is terrific: fresh, styled with panache, and plenty of wonderful choices for vegetarian and carnivores here. For appetizer, we had nachos and cheese; the spicy melted cheese was served in a small bowl, and now I must tell you that *every* restaurant should start doing this, because the cheese stayed warm and didn't get our hands messy. Chile rellenos queso was my main dish (although I was tempted to order the vegetable tamale-- next time), and it came with flavorful, fresh carrots prepared with tequila. I couldn't taste the tequila, but I could taste the carrots, which seemed bolder and darker orange than your usual restaurant carrot. (Maybe José is ordering from an actual farm and not a biotech company!) The chile relleno was beautifully served whole with the cute little stem still on top, fried, but not greasy. The sides were black beans with a smidge of queso dusted on the top, and rice, but not just any rice: it was more like a pilaf, with lots of good healthy brown grain in there. Not just any black beans, either: these were obviously cooked from whole dried beans and had a lovely smoke in their flavor.
I highly recommend this restaurant, but there are a couple quibbles: The chile had a spicy tomato sauce that was just a bit too spicy for me, and I usually like things moderately spicy. So you might want to ask if you have preferences for heat one way or the other. Also, they are still developing their menu, and things might change (you, reader, can impact this if you want to go, try it out, and make suggestions!) Also, there was more food than I could eat, but we're not talking disgustingly huge portions here: just generous. In reality, I could have been full on the beans, rice and nachos, without the chile and carrots. But I gave it my best college try, because damn, it was good, and I was excited to find such a unique restaurant in Troy. For an appetizer, one mint tea, and two main courses, it was about $28.
According to this Times Union review, Ray Wall is the proprietor of José Malone's; he used to be involved with El Loco Cafe in Albany, but he also plays Irish music. Hence the fusion.
The great thing about José Malone's is that you can take anyone there: a date, your mom (although I don't think mine likes Mexican, and that's a topic for another post), your buddies. This promises to be a good music place, too; there's plenty of room, and what with the dulcimer-playing owner, it's bound to happen.
I had no room for dessert, but I noticed the words 'key lime' on the menu (I think maybe cheesecake, too?), and that's one of my top 5 desserts (stay tuned for the other 4).
Tomorrow, I have to go to the gym.
Details: 405 River Street in Troy
273-2196
(It looked like they were open until around 9:30 on weeknights. I will post specifics once I call them. The article I listed above states hours, but I don't believe them, because I swear I saw 9:30, but the TU says they're open until 10. )
Monday, January 02, 2006
Carmen's Cafe
Update on Carmen's:
Carmen's cafe is open from 7 a.m.- 3 p.m. Tuesday-Sunday. The cafe sometimes plans events for dinner/tapas nights-- she announces this usually through the Washington Park newsletter. I'll post again here if she decides to open regular dinner hours. (Updated 5/26/06 by Nosher).
Well, I haven't actually been out to eat in the past few days, because I've been too busy munching on holiday chocolates and the like at home.
So this will be a post about Carmen's Cafe, which I visited for the first time around Dec. 24th. Carmen's is located in Troy on the corner of Adams and First Streets and used to be called Isabel's.
Well, Carmen has taken over, and is changing things, all for the better. The venue is very local and very humble (probably no one who doesn't live or work in the immediate vicinity really knows about it-- *yet*), but shttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifhe has a lot of potential. I believe this is only her second week or so with this new format.
Carmen's is open for breakfast and lunch, 6am - 2pm, and now also open for dinner (Isabel's was not) Tues-Sat. Call first before going for dinner just to make sure: 272-3011.
When I was there, I had lunch: Cuban eggs (eggs on top of rice) with a wonderful small avocado salad and plantains. For dessert, my lunch companion and I had a homemade creme caramel. Can I quote Rachael Ray and say: YUM?!
The menu is a combination of American-style comfort food, and Carmen's own mix of Cuban-Puerto Rican influenced home cooking. You heard it first here on dish and dirt.
Carmen's cafe is open from 7 a.m.- 3 p.m. Tuesday-Sunday. The cafe sometimes plans events for dinner/tapas nights-- she announces this usually through the Washington Park newsletter. I'll post again here if she decides to open regular dinner hours. (Updated 5/26/06 by Nosher).
Well, I haven't actually been out to eat in the past few days, because I've been too busy munching on holiday chocolates and the like at home.
So this will be a post about Carmen's Cafe, which I visited for the first time around Dec. 24th. Carmen's is located in Troy on the corner of Adams and First Streets and used to be called Isabel's.
Well, Carmen has taken over, and is changing things, all for the better. The venue is very local and very humble (probably no one who doesn't live or work in the immediate vicinity really knows about it-- *yet*), but shttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifhe has a lot of potential. I believe this is only her second week or so with this new format.
Carmen's is open for breakfast and lunch, 6am - 2pm, and now also open for dinner (Isabel's was not) Tues-Sat. Call first before going for dinner just to make sure: 272-3011.
When I was there, I had lunch: Cuban eggs (eggs on top of rice) with a wonderful small avocado salad and plantains. For dessert, my lunch companion and I had a homemade creme caramel. Can I quote Rachael Ray and say: YUM?!
The menu is a combination of American-style comfort food, and Carmen's own mix of Cuban-Puerto Rican influenced home cooking. You heard it first here on dish and dirt.
Thursday, December 29, 2005
Nino's bakery in Albany
Today, a rainy, dreary late December day, on the way back from the Honest Weight Food Co-op, my husband and I stopped at a tiny hole-in-the-wall bakery called Nino's, on King Ave., right off Central (their official address is 718 Central Ave., but the customer entrance is on King.) It's holiday season, and they're bustling in there: phone was ringing, somewhat hassled-looking guy was alone operating the storefront, which seems to be a small fraction of the large warehouse-like bakery space behind.
They have really authentic Italian pastries: cannoli (in the back-- you have to ask special!), lemon cookies, other assorted cookies, breads, and these amazing almond biscotti that are unlike any others, but a wonder unto themselves. These biscotti are more eggy than others (the ones I make at home are crunchier and drier), but they taste fresh and have just the perfect chew : crunch ratio. I could probably eat an entire dozen of them if I wasn't thinking about consequences.
Nino's seems to do a lot of their business with commercial customers, but don't miss this little gem of a bakery right across from the dreaded Dunkin Donuts and OTB racing center. They even had taralli when I first visited back in August or so (taralli are little donut-shaped Italian crackers to go with wine-- simple but delicious, and some are baked with herbs. They are boiled then baked, so it's the kind of thing I'd rather someone else make. If I get desperate enough and try to make them myself, I'll post about it here). They also sell taralli at the St. Anthony's festival in Schenectady around August, which is when I first got the idea I might be able to find them lurking in one of the several old-fashioned Italian bakeries around here.
They have really authentic Italian pastries: cannoli (in the back-- you have to ask special!), lemon cookies, other assorted cookies, breads, and these amazing almond biscotti that are unlike any others, but a wonder unto themselves. These biscotti are more eggy than others (the ones I make at home are crunchier and drier), but they taste fresh and have just the perfect chew : crunch ratio. I could probably eat an entire dozen of them if I wasn't thinking about consequences.
Nino's seems to do a lot of their business with commercial customers, but don't miss this little gem of a bakery right across from the dreaded Dunkin Donuts and OTB racing center. They even had taralli when I first visited back in August or so (taralli are little donut-shaped Italian crackers to go with wine-- simple but delicious, and some are baked with herbs. They are boiled then baked, so it's the kind of thing I'd rather someone else make. If I get desperate enough and try to make them myself, I'll post about it here). They also sell taralli at the St. Anthony's festival in Schenectady around August, which is when I first got the idea I might be able to find them lurking in one of the several old-fashioned Italian bakeries around here.
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