Upright & Stowed

Donut to Die For

Like most red-blooded Americans, I have had a life-long love affair with donuts. I made them with my cousin Ellen in St. Louis when we were kids. I fell in love with Dunkin' as a teenager. I would walk a mile, any day, for a French Cruller (the most fattening donut of all). And I consumed as many Krispy Kreme's as a New York City gay man was allowed in the 90s.

So yeah, I love my mass-produced donuts. But I was simply floored a few years back when I discovered The Donut Plant.  This is NYC's premier gourmet donut maker.  Happily, they opened their first non-factory branch in my hood a couple years ago. It's in the Chelsea Hotel, which makes The Donut Plant the donut company with the coolest instincts on earth. All of their flavors are mouth-watering. Check em out here.  But take note: If you want to taste perhaps the greatest donut ever made, the coconut creme is the one worth flying to New York to devour. Fortunately, I live two blocks away.  Grin. Lip-smack. Mmm mmm good. 

I Baked A Pie

Yep, I baked a pie.  And here’s the evidence.   Underneath that shiny butter and almond-flour crust lies a blend of apples, cranberries and ginger.  The pie was a stunner in the looks department.  Not bad on first eating.  And awesome after a couple days sitting in the fridge.  

Can you tell how proud I am of myself?  In these recessionary times, we must focus on life’s little pleasures to get through the day.  Next up?  Punkin', of course.

PS:  Blame my friend Howard for the crappy image. 

Empire Falls. ('bout time)

The Empire Diner is a New York dining legend.  For 35 years it has occupied one of the city’s most perfect corners (22^nd and 10^th) while preserving its most iconic railcar diner.  Alas, for most of those years it has also served some of the city’s worst food and possibly its very worst service.  Appallingly rude, 24 hours a day.   It’s a dining buzz-kill. 

I’ve been closely following the rumblings that the Empire’s lease is about to change hands.  Today I was delighted to read that the owners of Union Square’s Coffee Shop are taking over the Empire.   Chelsea Today has the story.  Photo credit here.

Coffee Shop has itself delivered questionable service over the years -- at least to the less than hip and lovely … not me, of course.  But nothing compared to the rudeness of the Empire staff.  I’m happy to see the change of hands, and even happier to know that the good ol’ diner is not becoming the first Capital One branch-in-a-railcar.

Ode to Joe

If you know me, you know that patience is not one of my virtues.  So when, like a fool, I visited New York City's one and only Trader Joe's on opening weekend (!!!), I was shocked, appalled and repelled by the never-ending line of shopping carts waiting to check out.  "You've got to be kidding," I thought when I first glimpsed the line, and I abandoned my cart mid-store ... certain that I'd never return. 

But on more than one occasion since then I've thought about all those weird and wonderful TJs prepared foods that I ate during my San Francisco heydey.  I simply had to go back, and eighteen months later I returned.

This time, I saw the line right off the bat.  I nearly fell on my knees and started to cry.  The line circled more than half the store.  "This is frickin insane," I thought.  "Has Manhattan lost its mind?  Who are these crazy people waiting in line when there are a million grocery stores right around the corner?  And why aren't they out of town for the holidays like they should be?"  I contemplated giving up once again, but I'd come too far and I'd waited too long.   I miserably sulked my way through the jam-packed aisles ... I hemmed and hawed through the 15 minute check out wait ... I was a total Scrooge to my overly chipper checkout lady.   I vowed never to return.

But.  Then I started eating.  I dipped into TJs Hummus and Tahini dip.  I scooped up TJs Olive and Feta Tapenade.  I pan-fried TJs pork and chive pot stickers.  I scarfed down TJs chicken enchiladas.  And I swooned over TJs Extra Sharp Canadian Cheddar.  What, dear God, have I been doing shopping at my neghborhood Gristedes!?!  I can't even breathe in it.  Yes, my friends, I have learned my lesson.  All I need now is some guidance as to when the line at Trader Joe's is manageable.  I'll  plan my week accordingly.  Cause those pot stickers is good eatin!  Happiness, indeed, is a thing called Joe.    (photo credit)

Who Made the Salad? Señor Caesar Made the Salad!

Is there anything yummier than a Caesar Salad, as long as you're not hoping to get lucky later in the evening?  I think not.   But who knew that the Caesar originated south of the border, rather than over there, on the boot?  Now, thanks to an amusing article in today's NY Times, we all know.  The Caesar was invented in Tijuana in 1924! 

Regular readers of this blog know that I took a special interest in Mexican culinary prowess earlier this year.   Little did I know that adorable Eduardo came from such a fine tradition.   :-)  photo credit

Acceptance

All good things must come to an end.  So with many a deep sigh along the way, I have journeyed from Denial to Anger to Bargaining to Depression to, yes, Acceptance that Florent is no more.  Last night I enjoyed the final public dinner service at this amazing little diner that defined a neighborhood and was home and refuge to New York City’s finest.  Thanks to Curtis for making the reservation (months ago).  He and Danny were my table-mates (see below).

As a final farewell, here’s an off-the-cuff list of some of the people with whom I shared laughter and joy at my favorite NYC restaurant, since 1985.  Thanks for the memories, and feel free to share …

Sibyl, Steve, Phil, Lee, Howard, Laura, Linda, Gene, Margot, Mom, Devorah, Paul, Viv, Ian, Bobby, Danny, Danny, Curtis, Adam, Jeff, Jeff, Dad, Doris, Carl, Sarah, Rachel, Tom, Joanne, Michael, Tom, Diedre, Barbara, Billy, David, Vince, Eduardo, Emily, David, Tom, Michael, Seth, Scott, Steve, Ed, Derek, Steve, Michael, Shel, Matthew, Rob, Gaetan, Mario, Sean, Lisa, Allen, Paul, Tony, John … and the list goes on.

NYC Dining Dish

One of my favorite things about friend and family visits to New York is the opportunity to alter my dining-out patterns.  I’ve had an adorable, adventurous and  talented chef staying with me for the past 10 days (sadly, he’s returned to YVR), so my NYC dining exploration has been especially rich and robust lately.  The highlights:

Kyotofu:  NYC's one truly gourmet tofu establishment.  Trust me.  Do not come to NYC again and miss it.  A delectable and eye-opening adventure, even if you hate tofu.

Momofuku Ssam:  Frank Bruni’s #1 pick for 2007.  A total journey into the new and unknown in a sexy, hip environment.  Perhaps a tad too adventurous for my palate, but not for Eduardo’s, who loved it.  He ate all the sweetbreads.

Commerce:  The newest incarnation of the space that most famously held Grange Hall, one of my all-time favorite Village eateries.  The food was excellent, the room is a dream, the noise level is over the top, and it’s all a tad pricey.  But a great night avoid weekends) with 4-6 friends.

Barrio Chino:  The most authentic Mexican I’ve eaten in NYC.  Chef Eduardo agrees, and he should know: Though Vancouver trained, he’s Mexican born.  Get your ass to the Lower East Side soon.

Food Bar R.I.P.

If you know even a little bit about New York's gay history, you know that FoodBar was one of the pioneers of super-gay dining in the early renaissance of Chelsea.  Along with long-defunct 18th & 8th, FoodBar defined the gay eatery of the Nineties.  Core components:  Gays dressed in gym wear, gays gorging after a night at the club, gays ordering chicken breasts, gays reading HX, and gays eating unbelievably bad food. 

I learned today that FoodBar is no more (hat tip: Genex).  And while I can't imagine that anyone will miss FoodBar as a dining establishment – unlike the impending shuttering of Florent – its closing is an audible tick in the passing of gay time. 

Thanks for the mediocre times, FoodBar.  It wouldn't have been the same without you.      Photo Credit

Most Edible?

I'm in Vancouver.  It's beautiful, and there are so many yummy things to eat.  If you had to make a meal out of one of these pictures, which would you prefer to bite into?  It's a toss-up between 1 and 3 for me.

Happiness

Happiness is eating dinner at one of your favorite restaurants (florent) with several of your favorite, long-standing New York City friends (Linda, Gene, Howard, Laura).  The smiles say it all.