By traveling ever so slightly off the beaten path, my friends and I may have discovered the best Polish food in Greenpoint. Karczma, which means old farm house in Polish is a warmly lit wooden oasis, which indeed calls to mind an old country house. It's walls were adorned with farm tools and a cute, rickety faux well sits in the middle of the back room. The waitresses wear traditional costumes and are lovely and charming. There is also a larger selection of Polish beers on tap than most local spots, including Krusovice Dark, which was the size of my head.

It's the food, though, that sets Karczma apart. I find most local Polish places in the neighborhood to be fairly similar, with one or the other making a better brat, pancake, or slaw, but generally they are all fairly equal. Not that I can complain, since they're equally pretty good,?but I found the food here to be outstanding. I ordered the Spicy Beef Goulash, a tangy saucy meal with melt in your mouth beef and served on the best potato pancakes in the area. Not bland at all, these latkes were slightly crisp on the edges and fluffy inside.

The polish platter, too, which is a neighborhood standard had options that outdid other local places. The pierogies, the hunter's stew, and the aforementioned potato pancakes, particularly stood out. Online I have read raves about their grilled dishes too, especially the blood sausage.

Funny enough, the restaurant is owned by Krzysztof Drzewiecki who also runs the knight themed Krolewskie Jadlo, which is the other local Polish restaurant that made my list. It's located near the bars along Franklin and I recommend as an option before or after a night out.

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Posted on May 12, 2008

There are no words, well almost–I 'm going to try–to convey the truly unique experience of Brighton Beach's The National, a luxe banquet hall with lavish carpet, lots of gilded stuff, giant chandeliers, and long tables for big parties adorned with roses, herring, salads, and caviar.

The other tables will be filled with Russian families, making toasts and headed by handsome silver haired, steely eyed men who can tear up the dance floor and look like they could tear you apart with their bare hands the next. It was kind of Eastern Promises, family style.

The aforementioned cold appetizers are out for sampling as the first stage show begins. Enter a Steven Seagal-style performer with satin pants. Next are lots of Russian ballads, and to my happiness, the Luther Vandross looking singer did a wicked rendition of Abracadabra that got Jim and I on the dance floor with the spry older couples right off the bat.

As the night progressed, the food got hotter and so did the stage acts. The lights went dark and then things got really wild. Wild like black lite lit top hats, pasties, cabana boys, drag queens, feathers, and bumble bee outfits. Yeah, when Anthony Bourdain called it “a show that if John Waters saw would turn into a Broadway show and make it a hit” he was dead on.

An outing to The National takes planning and I thank Marcus for organizing this amazing event for his birthday. You need to plan for a long car ride, dress to the nines (as they told Marcus “This is, how you say, nice place–no jean pants and no the sneakers!!”); plus, you have to be willing to be out of commission the next day. The meal comes with a bottle of vodka for every ten people and champagne, but you can BYOB–and we really did. Astrid had made her own infused vodkas that circled the table and helped to eventually get everyone on the dance floor, not just Jim and I, the dancing fools.

The food here seems to get a bad rap, but I enjoyed it. Maybe banquet style Russian foods like tongue with horseradish, pickled herring, and lots of meats are not accessible to a lot of pallets. I found the crepes with caviar, the pickled tomatoes, the fresh salad, and the meek skewers to be grand and Jim was gaga over the liver mousse and even attempted to horde it on his end of the table.

Besides, even if that food doesn't appeal to you, the National is not really about the food, it's about having an unreal, one-of-a-kind experience that will stay with you forever.

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Posted on April 28, 2008

Centro Vinoteca is the sleek, sunny two story corner Italian restaurant from Mario Batali's right hand woman on the Iron Chef, Anne Burrell. I was excited to go here after a weekend day of work (yuck) as a bit of a treat and the overall experiences was quite delightful.

I absolutely loved the d?cor, and particularly the large mirror and the bathroom, an element I rarely notice or care much about in a restaurant, but this one was that good. The interior toes the line between simple, almost rustic d?cor and super polished, take a wealthy old person here fanciness. We ate upstairs, where there actually were lots of wealthy old people, quite early, at 5:30 so the sun was spilling in and the menu was looking really tasty.

We began by sharing a few small plates, or piccolini – They're like small appetizers, just large enough for four people to get a taste. All these plates sounded amazing, but we limited ourselves to the white marinated anchovies, the chicken liver pate, and the truffled deviled eggs. Whoo hoo! These were all excellent. I could see myself coming here ordering exclusively from this menu for cocktails in the less formal downstairs. I would recommend all three of the ones we got.

My mojito which had a refreshing splash of prosecco was yummy and there's a small selection of beer and a wide selection of wines. Shaun was happy with his cortino, so I assume they have some fine ones.

Next came the entrees and here is where the meal got a bit controversial. Shaun enjoyed his very buttery Yukon ravioli and his fresh beet salad and Mike and I liked our boar ragu with crispy gnocci, though I did feel that with such a strong consistent flavor it could have benefited from a bit of variety. It's not a huge dish, but I had Jim finish mine because I had had my fill of rich gamy meat sauce and fried pasta.

The big disappointment was Jim's main, a rabbit and sausage dish that was curiously fatty and bland. Bummer. But the place got back on track with dessert. The taralucci, which?our waitress called “heaven on a plate” was just that. I usually am not one for hard cookies, but these crumbly Italian sweets were unreal, paired with a dipping sauce of salty caramel, I am telling you, “heaven on a plate”- for real.

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Posted on April 14, 2008

If we're at a shopping center and there's no Red Lobster, you'll be sure to find me in the Macaroni Grill. It used to be a friend from high school's favorite restaurant, but her family would eat bowls of popcorn for dinner and ice cream piled on waffles for breakfast. Yes, it was awesome spending the night at her house.

The Macaroni Grill, which is surprisingly less common than one would think in the carbon copy streets of commercial zones (the one we went to was even on “Commercial Drive”), is actually as good as I remembered – which is pretty darn good. Provided you order the right thing – and the right thing is the Chicken Scallopini.

The Mama's Trio, which Jim got was borderline insane, with “Primo Chicken Parmesan, Layers & Layers of Lasagna and Chicken Cannelloni”. They are all either stuffed, topped or made of cheese. It turned into four separate meals after taking a majority of it home.

The interior too was exactly the same faux brick and American style Tuscany as the one in Colorado?and the one in Texas! They even managed to find the same disinterested teens to serve us. And don't forget to touch up on your Italiano in the john where Italian lessons play over the loud speaker. You can learn how to say “I love my meal”.

Mike always gets gift certificates from Macaroni Grill for every holiday and I plan on taking full advantage of his family's hospitaliano!

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Posted on March 31, 2008

There is a difference between frustratingly slow service and an enjoyable leisurely pace. Due to the quality of the food, the dim warm interior, and the bottle of wine I consumed half of, Moustache fits comfortably into the latter category. It's certainly perfect for lingering conversations, no one will be kicking you out for staying too long.

It's the food that matters most though, always, and Moustache has been impressive both times I have visited. On a summer afternoon, needing just a small bite after a large lunch, Jim and I strolled in and split a lemony lamb covered pitza (photo of this dish from flickr) that was outstanding in their breezy covered back yard.

Just recently, in a much chillier climate, we were ready to try more of the menu with our friend Astrid. She's a vegetarian and told me they have great hummus. A statement I took with a grain of salt, not that she's in any way untrustworthy, but you know a vegetarian saying good hummus?as an ignorant omnivore, I just assume hummus must taste good to them compared to all the tofu and tempeh. But after sharing an order, I have to agree – it is great and the babganoush is even better – particularly paired with the fresh soft pita.

We also shared an agreeable feta salad, the house named pitza and a hulking falafel sandwich. It was a filling meal that managed to feel light and was healthy, especially compared to most restaurant options.

They also have another (original) location in the West Village but I have heard that it can get a bit more crowded. At either location, though, you can expect a healthy, relaxing meal and a very, very reasonable bill. We each owed only thirty dollars after all that food and drink!

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Posted on March 17, 2008