Crumbs Cupcakes

After 21 years, I have finally decided on the ultimate reason why every girl needs a brother—so he can send you cupcakes.

As a congratulatory surprise for landing a great internship in NYC for this summer, these six beauties were sent to me in a Styrofoam cooler packed with dry ice. 

Starting with the classic, I dove mouth-first into the red velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting, topped with red velvet crumbs and white sprinkles. The red velvet was great, but I craved a greater thrill. I moved on to the next safe choice, carrot cake, which was enjoyed by all who tried a bite.

I decided that the most attractive of the six was the dark chocolate temptress with the walnut brownie sunk into its center. 

Relative to its visual appeal, the brownie cupcake ironically proved to be the most disappointing of all. The chocolate fudge filling was a little rich for me, and the cake was very dry.

Walking further along letdown lane was the cookie dough cupcake, which, deceitfully, tasted like neither cookie nor dough. 

The vanilla cake had a chocolate fudge filling—a feature I rarely see in my break-and-bake—and was topped with a vanilla cream cheese frosting that was mixed with cookie pieces. I had trouble tasting the cookie pieces, and the filling was ill suited for the theme.

Although I’m not a huge proponent of peanut butter in my desserts, the peanut butter cup was a serious winner. 

Crumbs doesn’t admit to this, but some peanut butter must be mixed into the chocolate cake batter because I have never before tasted a chocolate cake this moist. Filled and frosted with peanut butter buttercream frosting, this cupcake did not live to see another day.

Saving the worst for last, I shocked everyone with my surprising infatuation with the cherry blossom cupcake. The smooth and moist vanilla cake was filled with a gooey filling that resembled that of cherry pie. Perhaps it was because of the abysmal expectations with which I approached the neglected cupcake, but the simple combination of flavors was a great note to end on.

CRUMBS

BAKE SHOP

http://www.crumbs.com/

Seinfeld's Soup Nazi is Back!

Al Yeganeh, the inspiration for Seinfeld's infamous "soup nazi," reopened his original soup stall on July 21st. Yeganeh, who's famous for his strict rules and aggressive manner, no longer owns and operates the stall, although his soups live on.


The proper patron conduct that would score you free fruit and bread from the intimidating Soup Man--know what you want, have your money ready, move to the far left after ordering -- was no gimmick to attract costumers and claim a spot on a popular sitcom. Yeganeh simply wanted the ordering process to be efficient and the line to move quickly. He actually resents the way his character is portrayed on Seinfeld and has banned Jerry Seinfeld from his soup stall. Jerry Seinfeld has attempted to visit several times, but the Soup Man never let him in. Yeganeh believes his soup promotes itself and doesn't need Seinfeld's parody to acclaim fame.

Excited fans -- of both the Soup Man as well as Seinfeld -- lined up outside the small stand on West 55th Street on the day of its reopening. The eager line wrapped around the block, the tail end making it half-way to 56th Street. It was no dull wait as media vans and news cameras lined the streets interviewing the hungry crowd.


People from all corners of the world had come to visit the famous soup stall, and many planned on ordering the Soup Man's most popular and most expensive variety -- lobster bisque. 


As the Soup Man can be found on my block, I am astonished to see people sitting at the portable tables and folding chairs set up across the street from the stand, eating soup day after day in 90 degree weather.


Open from 12-7:00 p.m., you better make room in your schedule for the Soup Man because he's evidently not making very much time for you.


The Original Soup Man
259A West 55th St., New York, NY

NY Summer Fancy Food Show Highlights

The only thing that can beat hundreds of specialty food and beverage vendors gathered in one place is the same event followed by after parties with even more food. Fortunately, I decided to eat everything in sight, just for you.


The Flavors of Chile event brought exotic foods and Chilean wine into the relaxed atmosphere of Puro Chile downtown.

Wine cellar in Puro Chile

Meredith and me at Puro Chile

Boiled, cold shrimp in a light green cream sauce

We also went to the launch party for Covet Restaurant and Lounge. The lounge was down a flight of candlelit stairs. It was very crowded and gave off an "exclusive" vibe, but the food was great, and there were two bars serving up fun drinks along with the basics.

Covet served up finger food like sauteed peppers with a creamy aioli, mini egg rolls, cod in lettuce cups, and small tomato mozzarella servings.

Last we went to an Austrian food and wine event. The Austrian even had some fun food as well as some bizarre products.

Cheese display with flags denoting the different types

Olives stuffed with cheese

Alcoholic and sports drinks in a tube.

Assorted mustards packaged in tubes.

Vienna ice coffee and milk: this is a ready-to-drink coffee drink with "unskimmed milk cream" that I actually received in my gift bag from the event. Once I build up the courage to try it, I'll tell you how it is.

Aquavit Restaurant

New York City’s Restaurant Week is a 14-day period in the dead of summer when a wide array of the city’s most esteemed and least affordable restaurants create a $35 prix fixe dinner menu. It truly is a great deal and a wonderful time to be had by all –all those who pay close attention to the small print.

Imagine my shock when I sat down to dinner at Aquavit on July 9^th and was given a menu that had only two dining options: a $78 per person prix fixe and a $105 per person chef’s tasting menu. The server then alerted me that everyone at the table would have to make the same menu choice – the least of my problems.

So, remember the date July 12^th. Repeat it five times every night before you go to sleep. Write it on post-its and stick it on your mirror. Unfortunately, I’ll always remember July 9^th because it was on the 9^th that I realized Restaurant Week begins on the 12^th.

The goods news, other than the fact that I now have a quite comical reason for declaring bankruptcy, is that I got the true Aquavit experience. I reluctantly ordered three courses, which reminded me of how much money I was spending, and enough wine to help me forget.

Smoked salmon accompanied by a watermelon salad sprinkled with edible flowers, compliments of the chef, arrived at our table first.

The smoked salmon tasted, oddly enough, like smoked salmon, the watermelon salad was fine – you can only do so much to watermelon – and the flowers were unnecessary, adding a tough bite and bitter taste that was unflattering with the rest of the course.

The appetizers arrived next. Hidden beneath a forest of garnish was one piece of chilled Maine lobster in its basic form and lobster that was mashed up and mixed with what tasted like green onion, all wrapped in a bland dumpling-pasta-like structure.

The meager serving of lobster failed to measure up to the ornate presentation. The pickled tomatoes stole the show on this plate, which wasn’t a difficult feat, but they truly were different and delicious. The pickling process gave these tomatoes an explosion of tangy juice. I should have just ordered a plate of those.

My appetizer was the venison tartare, joined by its typical entourage: capers, vinaigrette, mustard.

I don’t know how those same flowers made their way back onto my plate, but they still weren’t welcome. The huckleberries that surrounded the meat were what made this dish. The deep sweet juice of the dark fruit perfectly complemented the savory tang of the mustard and capers.

The chef then served another inter-course dish: a lobster bisque  with a cheese biscuit.

The soup came warm, not hot, which worked well with what it was. The frothy top was fun. There was a lot of foam, but it wasn’t too much. And the biscuit was, of course, fantastic – all butter.

One of the main courses was the seared char, which was served with a rich, creamy, white sauce that resembled hollandaise, minus the color.

The fish was very salty and tasted like smoked salmon. The entire dish was very rich without being too rich to devour the plate

The halibut confit was unfortunately subpar. It was served with braised octopus and angamat terrine.

At the risk of sounding too harsh, the fish was pathetic. It had absolutely no seasoning, not even salt and pepper, and left me questioning this alleged “confit.” Confit is when a piece of meat, usually a leg of duck, is seasoned, salted, slowly cooked, and left to sit in its own fat. Seeing as each item of that list should add immense flavor, I seriously doubt the menu’s claim that this fish is “halibut confit.” It tasted boiled and rubbery. The angamat (a creamy vegetable soup) terrine (usually grinded meat that is turned into a creamy loaf like pate) was not a pleasant combination. The loaf was like bland custard. The server dwelled over the caviar inside, but it was just sparsely sprinkled over one area.

The course to cleanse our palates – a shot of ginger/pear juice topped with yogurt whipped cream – was a delicious mix and fun treat.

For dessert, the rhubarb trifle was fine.

But what stole the show of the entire meal was this “goat cheese parfait” that I would more adequately like to title as a “frozen white custard lava tart.”

The goat cheese created the texture of the parfait without contributing to the flavor. The dessert was frozen but still soft. Then, you dive your spoon into the center and out pours a liquid vanilla custard. The chef topped this heavenly tour with homemade blueberry sorbet, which added a sweet and sour sharpness to the richness of the parfait. Simply superb.

Considering the price of this mistake, the meal at Aquavit was a little disappointing. If I could make any suggestions, just go for dessert. Or buy a calendar.

Restaurant Aquavit of New York

65 East 55th Street

New York, NY 10022

212-307-7311

macbar

Contrary to the hoards of self acclaimed “bars” that slap the word onto the end of their name in the hopes of boosting their trendy factor in the New York City restaurant scene, macbar in SoHo is, surprisingly, just as its title suggests.

The yellow macaroni-shaped establishment, seating a maximum of about 15 diners, doesn’t even meet the building requirement that necessitates a bathroom, but don’t let the size – or the slightly sour smell – deter you.

Although they do serve a classic mac and cheese dish to appease children and the occasional picky friend, the true highlights of the menu are their more unique combinations. Macbar is making some bizarre strides in the world of mac and cheese with their additions of lobster, corned beef, and duck confit.

My brother picked up the check for the “mac stroganoff” while I picked up the plastic wear, appropriately shaped like a long yellow noodle. Our order arrived hot and, considering how long we waited for it, I’m assuming freshly made.

The mac was served baked-casserole-style in a macaroni-shaped container. A mild white cheese, I'm guessing white cheddar, coated the top. Breaking through this stringy layer revealed the macaroni coated in a sour cream sauce accompanied by tender, shredded pieces of braised beef.

The mac stroganoff was a rich dish that would have been difficult to finish alone, but it certainly was a treat. Standing true to the “bar” description, there isn’t much of a dining experience, or even a dining room, but if you’re in downtown New York and in need of a cheese-fix, then you should definitely bar hop over to macbar.

macbar

54 Prince Street, New York, NY

(212) 226-0211

The Serrano Experience

“When you’re in Spain, you don't go to a bar because of the wine, you go because of the tapas." After Miguel Sanz spoke these delicious words, I averted my eyes away from my wine glass and focused on the four-course menu placed at my seat. Every course at the Consorcio Serrano ham dinner had one thing in common, and, on the evening of June 23, I didn’t go to La Fonda del Sol restaurant for tapas, I went for ham.

Jamón Serrano or “mountain ham” is a staple of Spanish cuisine. Served with olives and cheese or used to flavor your favorite recipe, Serrano ham can easily be mistaken for Italian prosciutto by the novice eye.

One of the main differences between Serrano and prosciutto is that Serrano is hung and cured for a year or longer, while prosciutto is cured for only a few months inside a covering of lard, giving prosciutto a higher humidity content and Serrano a deeper flavor. Serrano's lower fat content and stronger bite also add to its appeal.

As guests arrived at the Serrano dinner, Master Carver Ricardo Garrido Robles from Spain performed a ham carving demonstration, placing the finished slices of delicate, red meat on a serving plate. After reviewing my failed attempts at picking up the ham with the provided skewers, the Master Carver told me that Spaniards eat the ham with their hands anyway.

The first course was composed of raw sea scallops that were hidden under two layers of Serrano, served with a side of horseradish. 

In this course, the chef did not put the ham on the plate with the intention of it being eaten, but rather it’s purpose was to cure the scallops.

 A softer flavor of Serrano was captured in the scallop, slowly introducing our palates to the strong ham flavor.

The scallops were followed by three more appetizers: 

oysters topped with Serrano jelly,

black mission fig with Serrano and montcabrer, 

and a tortilla Espanola with a ham aioli (not pictured). My favorite was the fig. Evidently, fig season had just started, which was made clear once I bit into the juicy, mildly sweet fruit. The light sugar from the fig helped to moderate and balance the sharp bite from the ham and the salt of the cheese.

The main course was a poached halibut, accompanied with Serrano ham and a slice of melon that must have been soaked in a spicy marinade of some sort -- a heat that Master Carver Robles and Miguel Sanz later admitted was not characteristic of authentic Spanish cuisine -- but it was an interesting touch for a night like this.

The most unique meal of the night was dessert: a tomato sorbet with arugula, roncal, and candied ham.

As we sat around the table, Sanz explained how one of the most beautiful aspects of Spain is how, compared to America where people will sit down for a meal and talk of other things, in Spain a group of people will sit down for a meal and then talk about that meal for the entire extent of it's consumption. And that's what we did -- talked about food for 3-hours.

Now, that's a culture we should all strive to be more like.

Serafina Restaurant

Almost every weekend, I walk by people indulging in mimosas and bellinis served out of champagne flutes under the yellow awning of Serafina restaurant. Regardless of whether it’s the ambiance or the alcohol, the diners appear to be enjoying themselves. So, on my half birthday I decided to celebrate this joyous occasion over brunch with my brother under the yellow Serafina awning.

The brunch menu, which “includes your choice of bloody mary, mimosa, bellini,

coffee or tea” and a bread basket, has the basic brunch necessities: pancakes, omelet, eggs Benedict, etc. The only items on the menu that have an up-charge from the $20 flat fee are the eggs with caviar and the “steak and fabulous eggs,” “fabulous” being “eggs any style” – sounds thrilling.

I ordered the “three salmon benedict” and my brother ordered an orange juice. My brother, in an attempt to remind the server that I also get my choice of a beverage, prompted our frazzled waiter to interrupt by asking if I wanted potatoes or fries. The two options sounded like one of the same, so I went with potato to see what I’d end up with. The waiter scurried off without collecting our menus and without asking what “included” beverage I would like.

After another long while of waiting, a second server came to take our order. My brother and I shot each other a look, questioning whether it would raise our odds of actually getting any food if we ordered again, but we decided to take a gamble and place our bets on the first waiter.

I was hesitant to be the negative one, but after about another ten minutes of waiting I finally said to my brother, “I thought with ordering the salmon benedict I was supposed to get a bread basket.” My brother quickly responded, “I thought with ordering an orange juice I was supposed to get an orange juice.” Touché.

My brother then signaled to server #2 who then got the attention of a nearby busboy who then ran right out of the restaurant and across the street. A couple minutes later, the busboy reappeared with what looked like a stolen breadbasket from the brasserie across the street.

My “basket of freshly made breads and muffins” was composed of a small, stale corn muffin and a dried out croissant. We of course had no plates, silverware, or napkins to enjoy the stolen spread, and, because the entire staff of Serafina was M.I.A., my brother got up and scoured the waiter station for plates.

Once he sat back down, my salmon benedict arrived, sans my brother’s orange juice. Shortly after waiter #1 finished explaining that the bar tender was currently squeezing it, waiter number #2 came to alert us that the juice machine was broken, so my brother just asked for a water. It never came.

As I was just about finished, a third server arrived with another plate. “Salmon benedict?” “Yep,” I said, “I’m eating it right now.” The server was confused. My brother and I weren’t.

I don’t suppose there was a moment during the meal when anyone would have noticed if my brother and I just got up and left. Saturday morning brunch at Serafina was the most disappointing meal I have had since I have been in New York City. So, congratulations Serafina on being a memorable experience in the worst possible way.

SERAFINA BROADWAY

210 West 55th St. NYC 10019 Tel: 212 315 1700