In Denial Over El Comelon

I kept telling myself that the busy signal meant that they were having phone troubles. I finally walked by there today and confirmed that my favorite purveyor of rice and beans and fried plantains is gone. Seriously, I'm devastated. They could carmelize an onion like you wouldn't believe. Unless you've had the grilled chicken and onions, in which case I know you're salivating right now. And we never even blogged about it.

So where do I go now? I know there are tons more options on Greenpoint, according to the New York Times and the Department of Health. What have I been missing thanks to my obsession with El Comelon?

Hidden Queens--Huzzah!

Lots of our favorites on here--and some egregious oversights.

The Hidden Queens roundup from the New York Post is a great celebration of our borough. I'll be adding this link to our "In the Neighborhood" sidebar for easy reference.

Get In Line at El Triangulo

What could be better than having a few women call you 'guapo' or 'lindo' when you walk in to a restaurant?
Having them serve you strong coffee, bring you plates of food from a cheap buffet, and seating you next to a big, glorious window on Greenpoint Ave. to watch the Sunnysiders stroll by, that's what.

Super-friendly people. Super-sugary tea with lemon, and loads of just-oily-enough-but-still-fresh tasting traditional dishes that will leave you ready for a long walk through your great nabe.

Fast Food Nation

Where’s the Beef? Unfortunately, it’s in Queens. Corporate fast food god’s like McDonald’s, Burger King, Wendy’s and others have touched the hearts arteries of one too many Sunnyside residents.

To my heart’s dismay, in the past I have not been a total food snob. In fact, when I’ve needed a quick bite, I too have partaken in the Whopper Jr. “fun.” But each time, I have been distracted by the overwhelming number of people partaking in the same “fun.” There are youth groups, grandparents bonding with grandchildren, teenagers on their cell phones, and once I overheard a Spanish lesson going on at the Burger King on 41st. The excitement is surreal—it’s like watching high-heeled women at a free sneaker give away during the black out of ‘03.

I don’t know about you, but I love our little donut shops, our cute coffee spots and my sushi being served in a boat. And this all comes without the fear of a scary man in a King costume lying next to me in the morning.

If we want our favorite haunts to stay open, it would be wise to spend our hard earned time and money at the small, charming, delicious mom and pops we have been blessed with before the “man” takes over our nabe with another flame-broiled hotspot.

Aint Nothin’ Scary About This Yeti

A Yeti can be defined as - a legendary large, hairy, humanoid creature said to inhabit the Himalayas. Thanks for the nightmares. But now to us 11104’s a Yeti is simply one of the newest restaurants to hit Sunnyside, Queens—Yeti of Hieizan.

Yeti of Hieizan, as I prefer to call, “Yeti,” (because I have no idea how to pronounce “Hieizan” and want to appear culturally/globally aware) is doing its damnest to bring our neighborhood fine Japanese & Nepalese cuisine in a chic setting—and it’s succeeding.

The place is brand spankin’ new. I saw a UPC code stuck to the side of a booth once. Ok—not quite, but it is really basking in its new car smell glory. The shiny cherry wood floors, the adorable booths draped with blowfish curtains and tiki lights, the elevated private booths where you can take your shoes off and eat on the floor (really, this is much cooler and classier than I make it sound) and cocktail bar— this place invested a pretty penny in seating alone.

And the food, (which I have primarily taken in the Japanese side), has amazing presentation and is delicious to boot. Go pork gyoza dumplings! But I digress.

So, there’s nothing to fear but fear itself—welcome to the ‘hood Yeti.

Yeti of Hieizan
43-16 Queens Blvd
Sunnyside, Queens
www.yetiofhieizan.com

Sripraphai Don't Preach

Last weekend Wesley and I were blessed with a visit from two friends willing to make the trek from their chic digs on West 11th Street. Brave souls, they--the 7 train wasn't even running. So we picked them up at Courthouse Square and ferried them to Woodside for Thai at Sripaphai, one of the more well-known restaurants in Queens.

We easily found street parking, then endured a 20-minute wait for a table. Really not a big deal, as we were happily chatting and people watching. The downer came when we were seated--at the same exact moment as 5 other tables of four or more in our section. As a result, our service was glacial at best--one entree didn't arrive for over an hour after ordering.

Despite the delay upon delay, the food was astonishingly good. We started with shrimp dumplings, fried calamari, and chicken satay. I especially enjoyed the peanut sauce that came with the satay; it was a perfectly silky texture and had peanut flavor without making me want to reach for the jelly.

For entrees, we shared a pad thai that wasn't afraid of the dried shrimp (little pungent bits sprinkled throughout), sea bass in a lemongrass sauce that was hearty enough to be a soup, steamed chicken breast with basil sauce (presentation left something to be desired, but taste was supreme), and green curry with beef. The last was rich, smooth, with each of the flavor elements discernible yet harmonious. Dished up with coconut rice and the whole meal was a winner.

We retired back to chez Claire-Wesley for dessert: a chocolate mousse cake from Nita's and great conversation.

Sripaphai
7 train to 69th Street
Map

Penne alla Vodka Smackdown: Marabella vs. Mediterraneo

Boy, do I love penne alla vodka (with grilled chicken, natch). Macaroni and cheese for grownups. It's one of my favorite comfort foods and, like chicken tikka masala, I've yet to master it at home. Every time I try I end up with the most disgusting looking sauce you've ever seen in your life--and I'm a pretty good cook. Just check out how fat Wesley is for proof positive.

Last weekend I really, really wanted penne alla vodka for dinner, so I picked up the phone and promptly had a brain fart. Do we like Marabella or Mediterraneo? One is for pizza, and the other is for pasta, but I can't for the life of me remember which is which.

Marabella, I bet that's the one. I call, they know my address, I place my order, I wait thirty minutes for the sound of a moped and the doorbell 30 seconds later. I pay, I tip, I rush upstairs, absolutely famished. I open up the take out tin.

My penne alla vodka with grilled chicken looks like pasta primavera with chicken bits. It looks nothing at all like the penne a la vodka I've been thinking about for the last 30 minutes.

Thinking that maybe they sent me the wrong order, I call up Marabella and ask. They put the owner on the phone.

"It's just that it doesn't look like penne alla vodka. It's all--white."
"That's what our penne alla vodka looks like."
"Okay..."
"Did you taste it?"
"No, because I thought maybe it was wrong."
"You should taste it. My son ate two bowls of it today."
"Um, okay."
"You don't like it, you call me back."
"Okay, thanks."

I tasted it, and you know what? It was pretty good. Different, not tomato-ey like I like, but good. I decided to call them back:

"I'm the lady who called earlier about the penne alla vodka? I ate it and it was really good and I'm sorry for doubting your penne alla vodka."
A pause, then--
"Okay, thanks!"
Click.

Last night I ordered the penne alla vodka that I really wanted from Mediterraneo. The sauce is nice and pink, cheesy but not overly so. On top is a chicken breast, pounded, grilled, and sliced--very tender, and perfect for soaking up the extra sauce. I may have been wrong about Marabella, but I was more than right about Mediterraneo.

Winner: Mediterraneo, aw yeah.

Mediterraneo:
46-21 Queens Boulevard
718-433-1100

Marabella
4107 Greenpoint Ave
(718) 786-4635

Good Baby Pig-Eatin' on Greenpoint Ave, Sez Times

(Lynn and Paul--this is a non-vegetarian post.)

According to the Dining Section of the Times today, Las Americas on Greenpoint near 46th can fill all your pig--baby and otherwise--needs.

Wesley and I have long been fans of El Comelon, on Greenpoint near 41st, but I think I know where we'll be going the next time we get a craving for rice & beans, plantains, and some kind of yummy animal, washed down with sugary goodness.

My mouth is totally watering.

Chicks Dig Fish on Dates While Fried is Just the Thing for the Men

What has happened with Bliss could have easily happened here at The Kettle nee The Copper Kettle. Turns out the price of heavy metals have risen so sharply, it's too costly even to keep 'Copper' in the name. Well, good thinking there boys, you might make it through another year yet. Especially with the coming demise of Bliss as foretold in these pages lo these many times.

There's nothing special about The Kettle, really. Another restaurant-meets-pub from central casting. Decent enough service, what they lack in skill they tend to make up for in obsequiousness. Not that that is a good thing or a fine standard.

Claire had the salmon, which was overcooked, but they always are at these places. Nary a restaurant east of Lex knows that salmon is best when it's rare. Sad that these poor creatures with mere decades left on their entire species lifespan can't get the respect they deserve. 2048 People! End of Sea food! Learn how to cook a Salmon.

Is it okay to send it back? Why, it's absolutely necessary.

And a burger. I've gone here for the fish and chips, but the size of the burger gets me every time. It's so beautiful. And, as such, it was this time too. But what my poor poor brain always neglects to tell me is that these motherfuggers don't carry nothing but coleman's mustard and gray poupon.
Can I get and ARRRRGH!? Give something Spicy brown. Not over powering. Even yellow. Something one can really glom on there.

Ugh. yeahitsgood. itsfinefine. dontworry. i'll eatit. iwill. thanks. salmonsfinetooshelovedit we'llbeback.

Some day soon I'm going to eat the shit out of Quaint and if those bastards don't make a fucking miracle and put it in front of me and all the glory of heaven doesn't envelope me in a loving mustard that is bitter but not overbearing, things will get ugly there.

Kettle -that's your name now. too mediocre to keep the 'The' , really. Keep up the b-level game. You'll live in this nabe as Bliss goes down.

Quaint, with that name and all this buzz, I'm coming in there and ordering the yogurt covered pizza with porcini and I'm sending it back, and when they come back to take my order once more,I will scream about the torture your father exacted on my father back in the old country that was just like this in every way, He would come in, my father, after having the salmon at La Taza and then sit down quietly here at Quaint.

Then the dance would begin. I watch and learned. I watched and I learned.

The Dance of The Nine Widows will not compare the the wailing sounds of Claire and Wesley should the burger at Quaint not , I repeat, not be better than all other burgers of our tiny villa.

good night and God Bless


ps-
anywone know where to buy a good used car?