Here's a nice place for coffee, pastry and a chat. It was delightfully not-crowded on the Saturday after Christmas. My latte was hot, dark, rich and smooth. I sampled the hot chocolate, topped with frothed milk and a chocolate-syrup design, it was excellent.
All of the desserts and pastries looked delicious and a waiter described each type for us. We shared a tropical fruit confection that was totally delightful.
We kept an eye on the dishes delivered to other tables, everything looked really good, including the crepes. The portions are big at Caffe Martier, sharing is a good idea.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Observer effect
In the past year, I've noticed the observer effect kicking in regarding my restaurant experiences. According to Wikipedia, my source for all things physics-related, "In experimental research, the term observer effect refers to changes that the act of observing will make on the phenomenon being observed."
None of my recent restaurant meals have qualified as phenomenal, but the possibility that I might blog about them makes me observe them differently, almost as if I'm simultaneously verbalizing or notating my impressions, rather than just chowing down.
I'm related to a long line of people who never forgot a single bite of food that ever entered their mouths. I thought that gene had skipped me. But these days I remember meals in great detail. I come across a takeout menu and recall, "That's the place where the fries tasted sort of fishy ..."
And those pet peeves about service that you've all confided to me over the years? I'm noticing them, too. Glancing through the stack of receipts on my desk brings to mind the waiter who didn't break up my change into anything smaller than a 10, perhaps in hopes of a larger tip. Or the waitress who asked if we were done, while we were still chewing, forks hovering over half-full plates. Or the dreaded query, "Do you want change?"
The funny thing is, none of these things have interfered with my enjoyment whatsoever. I don't think the food or service is any better or worse than what I've experienced over the years. I still have a good time and enjoy myself practically every time I go out.
But I do notice things more, and think about what components add up to a positive or negative restaurant experience. And all of those thoughts are bound to end up posted here, sooner or later.
None of my recent restaurant meals have qualified as phenomenal, but the possibility that I might blog about them makes me observe them differently, almost as if I'm simultaneously verbalizing or notating my impressions, rather than just chowing down.
I'm related to a long line of people who never forgot a single bite of food that ever entered their mouths. I thought that gene had skipped me. But these days I remember meals in great detail. I come across a takeout menu and recall, "That's the place where the fries tasted sort of fishy ..."
And those pet peeves about service that you've all confided to me over the years? I'm noticing them, too. Glancing through the stack of receipts on my desk brings to mind the waiter who didn't break up my change into anything smaller than a 10, perhaps in hopes of a larger tip. Or the waitress who asked if we were done, while we were still chewing, forks hovering over half-full plates. Or the dreaded query, "Do you want change?"
The funny thing is, none of these things have interfered with my enjoyment whatsoever. I don't think the food or service is any better or worse than what I've experienced over the years. I still have a good time and enjoy myself practically every time I go out.
But I do notice things more, and think about what components add up to a positive or negative restaurant experience. And all of those thoughts are bound to end up posted here, sooner or later.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Malabar Hill, Elmsford, NY
There was a hair in my raita.
Check out Uncle WestFester's complete (and more positive) take on Malabar Hill.
Check out Uncle WestFester's complete (and more positive) take on Malabar Hill.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Tsuru, Hartsdale, NY
Two restaurants have recently stayed open for me after the posted closing time, that's either a sign of the economy or of the charmed company I keep.
We pulled up in front of Tsuru after 9, just as the owner was opening the front door. We rolled down the window to ask him how late they were open. He replied, "9:30, but please come in."
Once inside, I settled in the empty dining room with the Jazz Den Mother and sister blogger Mean Cuisine. We hadn't seen each other for a while, and an S&S (sushi and sake) get-together was way overdue. We placed our order, with the waiter nodding his approval at some of our choices, in particular plum paste with mint roll. I enjoy sake, but know next to nothing about it, so I chose a small carafe of Kurosawa in honor of one of my favorite film directors.
Green tea and excellent, full-bodied miso soup arrived promptly, followed by our assortment of rolls, including fried salmon, soft-shell crab, river eel and avocado, rainbow, and yellowfin. We were ready for our dish fest, and we dug in, literally and metaphorically.
Our rolls had a nice balance of crispy and tender, pungent and subtle, rich and sharp. So did our conversation. The staff stopped by occasionally to pour tea and sake, and to clear the dishes once we joined the clean plate club.
We were still deep in conversation at 10:30 when the owner let us know he'd like to close up shop.
Tsuru is one of my favorite places for lunch or dinner in the area, and probably my favorite place for sushi except for Sakagura in Manhattan. The service can be brusque at times, but the food is consistently excellent, and I was thrilled that they accommodated us by staying open an extra hour.
We pulled up in front of Tsuru after 9, just as the owner was opening the front door. We rolled down the window to ask him how late they were open. He replied, "9:30, but please come in."
Once inside, I settled in the empty dining room with the Jazz Den Mother and sister blogger Mean Cuisine. We hadn't seen each other for a while, and an S&S (sushi and sake) get-together was way overdue. We placed our order, with the waiter nodding his approval at some of our choices, in particular plum paste with mint roll. I enjoy sake, but know next to nothing about it, so I chose a small carafe of Kurosawa in honor of one of my favorite film directors.
Green tea and excellent, full-bodied miso soup arrived promptly, followed by our assortment of rolls, including fried salmon, soft-shell crab, river eel and avocado, rainbow, and yellowfin. We were ready for our dish fest, and we dug in, literally and metaphorically.
Our rolls had a nice balance of crispy and tender, pungent and subtle, rich and sharp. So did our conversation. The staff stopped by occasionally to pour tea and sake, and to clear the dishes once we joined the clean plate club.
We were still deep in conversation at 10:30 when the owner let us know he'd like to close up shop.
Tsuru is one of my favorite places for lunch or dinner in the area, and probably my favorite place for sushi except for Sakagura in Manhattan. The service can be brusque at times, but the food is consistently excellent, and I was thrilled that they accommodated us by staying open an extra hour.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Hunan Village II, Hartsdale
Dinner was excellent at Hunan Village II in Hartsdale last night. Everyone in our group of seven, which included at least one serious foodie, was pleased.
Hunan Village II is several steps above your average Chinese restaurant. The menu doesn't include all of the tired old take-out choices, and the restaurant doesn't smell of stale peanut oil. That in itself is a treat.
There's a menu page devoted to creating your own meal by choosing either chicken, beef, pork, shrimp, adding one of a half-dozen or so sauces, three fresh veg from a long list, and a prep style (stir fried, sauteed or steamed). Several of us tried and enjoyed this do-it-yourself option; it's a nice feature.
The presentation was beautiful and the food was delicious and fresh, including baby bok choy so tiny and crisp it could pass as infant bok choy! My dish contained an abundance of oxymoronically large shrimp. My only complaint: the allegedly hot and spicy Hunan sauce was too mild. I'm sure the waiter could have remedied that, but I was too involved in conversation to pursue it.
The dining room is sleek and quiet. We could actually hear one another across the table. We all had a chance to chat and catch up and find out how our various businesses are going, from knitting to jewelry-making to fine art to freelancing.
(See Uncle WestFester's February 2008 post about Hunan Village in Yonkers.)
Hunan Village II is several steps above your average Chinese restaurant. The menu doesn't include all of the tired old take-out choices, and the restaurant doesn't smell of stale peanut oil. That in itself is a treat.
There's a menu page devoted to creating your own meal by choosing either chicken, beef, pork, shrimp, adding one of a half-dozen or so sauces, three fresh veg from a long list, and a prep style (stir fried, sauteed or steamed). Several of us tried and enjoyed this do-it-yourself option; it's a nice feature.
The presentation was beautiful and the food was delicious and fresh, including baby bok choy so tiny and crisp it could pass as infant bok choy! My dish contained an abundance of oxymoronically large shrimp. My only complaint: the allegedly hot and spicy Hunan sauce was too mild. I'm sure the waiter could have remedied that, but I was too involved in conversation to pursue it.
The dining room is sleek and quiet. We could actually hear one another across the table. We all had a chance to chat and catch up and find out how our various businesses are going, from knitting to jewelry-making to fine art to freelancing.
(See Uncle WestFester's February 2008 post about Hunan Village in Yonkers.)