Dear Sneaky Credit Card Thief …
t says: Dear Mr./Mrs./Ms./Miss/Dr. Credit Card Thief,
It has come to my attention that you have stolen my credit card number and used it to make ridiculous purchases at random websites. I regret to inform you that American Express is sneakier than you are. Apparently they know me so well (either that or they know your kind so well) that the moment you attempted a single one of your charges, they contacted me simultaneously by phone and email. That card has been shredded. I am not responsible for any of your purchases. Perhaps you would have had better luck had you purchased food or wine or kitchen contraptions.
Also, know that in an effort to help AmEx, I’ve ratted out any new-to-me vendors with whom I’ve had recent transactions in an effort to find you – I hope you were not so dumb as to have just obtained my credit card info from one of them (or maybe I do hope you were that dumb). While I realize that in all likelihood you will escape, I do secretly wonder if you’ll get caught like that infamous young couple in Philly who had like a bajillion dollars of purchases using stolen cards.
And so the hunt begins. Bonne chance.
Sincerely,
t
One Fish, Two Fish, Tile Fish, Coffee Cake …
t says: g and I celebrated her bday with a trip to Little Fish. Why Little Fish? Well, we were looking for a place that was new to us and BYO. Technically, we had gone to Little Fish once before, BUT, we hadn’t gone since it closed and re-opened in its new digs – so it was kind of like a new restaurant!!! We also had a bottle of Illumination from Quintessa that we acquired during our visit to Napa – and what better way to make it the star of the evening than to have a bunch of fish!? Finally, when we saw the pricepoint of the menu, we knew that Little Fish is a little expensive to make it just a random-weekend-dinner – at nearly $30 per entree, there needs to be a little something special worth eating for.
As you prepare yourself for the rest of this post, you can stare at yet another poorly-taken iPhone photo of our dessert and wonder if it was good or not!
"Chocolate crunch" ice cream atop coffee cake atop a puddle of banana-esque shmutz.
2/2010, Saturday 8:30pm, Party of 2. When we arrived the place was kind of small … and empty. Only one table had guests, and another was clearly getting up to leave. I think we were the first of a second wave of diners or something because they were definitely packed by the time we were halfway through our meal. As usual, we were quite hungry (we like to make sure we don’t wuss out and get full after the appetizer when we go to restaurants) and wasted no time and got down to business. The menu was written on a board that we turned our heads to stare at. There’s got to be some way to put the menu in a more accessible place, but I guess not. In any case, as we read each item, we couldn’t quite decide what to do. Do we get two entrees and two apps? Or do we go 3 apps and 1 entree? So many things sounded good! Then we decided … we’d go three entrees for two people and skip the apps entirely. Genius. This meant we got a “three course tasting menu” of sorts (and they split each dish into two plates for us – so we wouldn’t have to dribble sauces onto the table – that was quite nice of them!). I let g choose two of the entrees, and I chose a third.
First course was “golden spot tilefish, shrimp and grits, tomato consomme, andouille”. Holy bejesus this was awesome. The tomato consomme was deep and flavorful – a beautiful harmony upon which the fish and andouille played a gorgeous melody (I think I used those terms right – maybe I got them backwards …). The way the flavors played with eachother totally reminded me of the kind of flavor adventure that we got when we first ate at Talula’s Table. I don’t know how they subdued the andouille (or amplified the tilefish), but one did not overtake the other – instead you got a beautiful fish and that savory/salty meat that worked so well together. And the shrimp and grits were perfect – a worthy challenger for kp (a shrimp and grits showdown, kp?).
Next up was “striped bass with braised romaine, bagna caude, crouton”. You know – it’s kind of weird, but for me the star of the dish was the braised romaine. Yes, the fish was delightful, and the crouton and ?sauce?/?liquid? was amazing. But that romaine … that romaine was awesome. And I have a personal vendetta against romaine … soooo … my endorsement means something. I don’t know how they got such flavor into the lettuce while having it keep some consistency, but they did, and I have thought about braising some romaine on my own … (haven’t gotten around to it yet).
The last course was the “sturgeon with pork belly, gigande beans, spinach, mustard”. I was psyched. Fish and pork belly. Bring it on. It arrived and it looked and smelled delicious. I was even more psyched. And then I tasted it. And you know what, I was a little disappointed. The dish was rather one-note, with the mustard taking over and masking everything. Don’t get me wrong – I like mustard – but I couldn’t get a whole lot more than it, which kind of bummed me out. The texture of the fish and pork belly suggested that they were both executed well – and tasting them on their revealed … surprise … fish and pork belly. But the one thing that was supposed to bring them together kind of trumped them both. It wasn’t a “bad” dish, but after the first two, it was kind of a let-down. Especially because this one was my choice – just goes to show you that my wife is a good picker (after all, she did pick me, right?).
And finally … the dessert. I let g choose the dessert (she gets a lot of power on her birthday). She asked for the coffee cake. To be honest, I wasn’t thrilled. Coffee cake? I mean, come on. On what planet is coffee cake an acceptable dessert at a restaurant … after eating fish and fine wine? Interestingly, neither g nor I even drink coffee, either! But, her birthday, her choice … She totally made me eat my thoughts. That dessert, which we showed you a crappy picture of above, was frickin’ delicious. The chocolate ice cream brought some sweat creaminess (?and I guess some crunch – but there wasn’t that much), and that coffee cake was perfect. And then there was the banana shmutz. It was like someone made some bananas foster and then blended it smooth. It was ridiculous. If they put it in a jar and charged $8 a piece a-la-Barbuzzo, I’d buy a dozen and take them home to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And then I realized that this was the best dessert I’ve had at a Philly restaurant. Better than Zahav. Better than Barbuzzo. I kind of want to try it again just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke …
So, the overall picture … The food is quite good at Little Fish. However, the prices are a little on the steep side, approaching $30 per entree. While in my personal price-point, the first dish (i.e. the tile fish) was “worth” it, the second was more like a $25 dish, and the last was more of a $20 dish (in terms of flavor – I realize that as soon as you put pork belly on something, you’re allowed to charge $5 more for it). I think g and I will keep the place in mind for special (e.g. Birthdays, holidays) and semi-special (e.g. V-day) events … or just when we need to show some fish-fanatic friends of ours a good time …
Our lost visit to Smokin’ Betty’s
t says: We went to Smokin’ Betty’s some time ago, but apparently forgot that we went up until we got a comment from one of our faithful readers … Actually, g and I remembered very little of the visit, so we’ll let our dinnermate, lc, tell you the story in her words … with my edits in italics …
lc says: Didn’t you order some kind of ridiculous dessert that was really good? <sounds like me>
We went the day before Thanksgiving (… and I walked around and past the building multiple times because they have no prominent sign and dim lighting makes the windows look dark. I was embarrassed but you guys thought it was hysterical.) I think there was some kind of turkey special, but I can’t remember if anyone got it. Also, I think there was a bucket of fries in there that I took home but never ended up finishing.
Looking at the menu now… I had BBQ sliders. All three were delicious but it was weird we couldn’t identify which meat was in each after they were smothered in sauce. <oh yea! I remember that – that was weird!> You may have had the Betty Burger, which does have pork belly, fried egg, and avocado <I’m pretty sure I had that – I think the accompaniments were fantastic, but the burger itself was only “good”. Of course, adding pork belly to anything usually raises its goodness by a point, so it’s now “above-good”.>. I can’t remember what g had; maybe it was a special from the board <She can’t remember either – initially she thought maybe she got the sliders?>. There is in fact a bucket of fries on the menu. And I vowed if I got to go back I would get the Turducken Burger. Dessert may have been the triple chocolate layer cake, or it might have been a more mysterious special from the board. I think it was very chocolate, though. <Aha!! The chocolate cake. I remember it being kind of pricey for just a slice of cake – it was very chocolatey, and I think I liked the icing/filling more than the cake itself, which was kind of bleh.>
I know I had the Ace Perry cider, and it was really good. Apple and pear blended, instead of just apple, was very refreshing. I think g had some kind of yummy drink as well, but I can’t remember. Maybe she just considered one.
I seem to remember that they played some pretty interesting “old alternative” music while we were there… Funny that they dialed in to the kind of music we listened to in high school–we’re actually not THAT old! <We’re old as dirt. Nirvana was still cool back then, and Green Day had just come out.>They had a lot of door/windows that probably open up when the weather’s warm, but it was too cold that day.
And that’s all I can remember. I hope you can flesh it out with more details for your readers. <Yea – without your prompts, I had nothing. So thanks for your memory! So when we goin for that Turducken burger? Caitlin liked it – see the comment on this post.>
Farmicia also made me a liar!
t says: g and I were caught down in the Old City area one weekend and stopped by Farmicia for brunch. When we were finished with the meal, all I can say is that we kind of wished we hadn’t stopped. Because it was so “unremarkable” as g stated, we’re just going to cut straight to the chase:
2/2011, Sunday Brunch, Party of 2. I had a French Toast Scrapple sandwich. Sounds great right? Some French toast. Some pig-product. Get some syrup up in there. It’s gotta be a winner! Wrong! The scrapple was a disgrace. The outside was as mushy as the inside – a huge faux pas! And the meat (if you call it that) was quite bland! But that wasn’t the weird part – I had had bad scrapple before. The weird part was that the French toast was … ?bland?. I’m not even sure if bland is the right word to use, but it really had no taste – maybe “insipid” is better. It tasted like bread, which was weird because I clearly saw that it had been French-ified. But there were no notes of egg, cinnamon, sugar, vanilla, nothing! I doused my sandwich with strawberry jam to, one, make it taste better, and two, make it seem like it was bleeding (when my food isn’t tasty, my mind wanders …), but no amount of sweetness or humor could rescue the sad sad sandwich.
g had the crabcake sandwich. When I asked her how it was, these were her words: “it’s a crabcake sandwich.” No adjectives used at all. Perhaps this is a good thing because all of the adjectives for mine were negative.
So what’s the point of a post like this? Well, it’s not just to rant and rave – there are enough of those bloggers out there already. I want to share with you a troubling realization. It happened as we were sitting there. I had just told g how boring the food tasted – and not a microsecond after I got the words out of my mouth, I noticed out of the corner of my eye the waiter was a mere 4 steps away, coming to ask us how everything was. I literally turned my head from g, to whom a moment earlier I had been complaining about my food, and told him, “everything’s good, thanks.” I lied. I’m a liar. I kind of shocked myself. g gave me a wide-eyed look of accusation; her face said, “you are one of those people!”. She was referencing a time that good ‘ol a had pointed out that I was a liar back when we visited Baby Blues, when I told the waitress a similar comment despite having obvious reservations about the food … but never had I gone straight from saying one thing to saying another so quickly. This realization makes me feel dirty and guilty all over …
… but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed with some Cochon French toast (now Cochon douses their French toast in peanut butter and jelly) …
The customer is not always right …
t says: I like David Chang, and I agree with him … usually. For the most part I concur that the customer is not always right. However. I’d also be happy to do whatever a customer wanted … if he/she paid for it … through the nose … This way you “win” by getting extra money, and the customer is happier (even if it is a filet mignon oxymoronically ordered “well done”) and will even come back again in the future with – surprise – more money!
But I guess that, for at least right now, culture has dictated that good chefs are celebrities. They’re the all-powerful, all-knowing experts, given their years of training and experience. As a result, they get the upper hand and get to call the shots … in the name of artistry, or creativity, or taste, or “objective” rightness (e.g. that dude on Chopped who says that under no circumstance can cheese every accompany fish … there’s got to be an exception somewhere …), orr whatever. But I’m also sure that should dire times strike these guys, they’d be happy to give you whatever the crap you wanted if it paid the bills …
Which leads me to my only conclusion: I guess sometimes, you have to sell out, and right now is not that time for these chef superstars (which is totally fine – everyone is allowed some fame – and in most cases they earned it, so I’m ok with it). But, should the time ever come that someone is considering selling out, that they sell out big and sell out hard … like Snoop Dogg.
The Truth … about Kitchen Knives
t says: I’ve done some spring cleaning/updating/editing of our kitchen knives page and realized that some of the info deserves to be put in one of our “The Truth” posts … So get ready to have some knowledge dropped on you … Welcome to my five truths (or maybe they’re like commandments?) of owning kitchen cutlery.
I) All knives need sharpening. No matter what knife you buy, it will eventually need to be re-sharpened. It is an unrealistic expectation to believe that a knife will be sharp forever – no matter how much you pay for it, no matter how much the infomercial or Williams Sonoma salesperson swears by it, and no matter how many corkscrew-pennies your Cutco rep is making for you … Just like every car in the world has wear-and-tear as you use it – every knife will get dull. What can you do about it? Well, I mention two useless and three useful things you can do on the knife shopping page …
2) “Stainless” knives are not “stain-free” knives. Knives “stain less” if the alloy of the blade contains above a certain amount of chromium. Who cares? You might, because a “stainless” knife is merely stain-resistant – not stain-proof! Heck – they may even rust – especially if you’re cutting acidic foods like tomatoes, lemons, and onions. So leaving your knives around with water and food particles on them until the end of your meal is not the greatest idea. And waiting until the next day to clean your knife is an unforgivable travesty.
3) [Almost] Never store knives in a drawer. Unless you have edge-guards on your knives (of which the best are like this, while those like this kind of suck), don’t put them in a drawer where they can slide around and smack into each other – that’ll ruin their cutting edges. Plus, who wants to stick their hand into a drawer of sharp things like knives? You wouldn’t stick your hand in a sharps box (i.e. that thing they put used needles in) at the hospital, would you? Don’t do it at home, either.
4) Never put knives in the dishwasher … unless you hate them. Washing your knives via dishwasher potentially lets them clang against other things (ruining their edges) and promotes spot/rust formation (and dramatically warps the handles on some knives). For the love of all that is holy and good: wash them by hand, dry them by hand.
5) Use a proper cutting board. Glass or ceramic cutting boards are awful on all knives. And that sound they make as your knife blade strikes the surface makes me cringe every time. Plastic boards are also horrendous for knives – I don’t care how many people justify their use with, “well, they’re more sanitary – you can stick them in the dishwasher!” (I have a better solution than plastic – keep reading). Bamboo is gaining popularity, but those flat-grain bamboo boards (i.e. the ones that look like they’re made of long strips of bamboo) are very hard and brutal on knife edges. And don’t get me started on those silly roll-up cutting “mats” or those times I’ve seen Real Housewives cutting directly on their fancy granite countertops … ugh. So what should someone use? Wood. That’s right – old school. It worked for your mom and your mom’s mom and your mom’s mom’s mom (or your dads – I don’t want to be sexist). And if you really love your knives, use end-grain boards – the fibers of the wood will microscopically split as you slice down, absorbing some of the impact, and slowing down how fast you dull your knives. For those who are squeamish about wooden cutting boards and food safety (e.g. bacterial cross-contamination), it’s advisable to have a separate cutting board for meat … or if you’re really really squeamish, then go for Sani-tuff boards, which are super-safe on knife edges (probably even better than wood!) and super-sanitary. Now if only they came in cool colors …
I wish I was this guy …
t says: I think this guy might be my new hero … So my new plan will be to somehow amass enough money so that when I retire, I, too, can do “scientific” experiments on whatever happens to cross my mind …
after dinner sneeze 