Have you ever walked into a situation where there was so much good stuff to eat that you felt panicky from realizing that you could not have it all? This was the state of Snackish when faced with Smorgasburg, the Saturday-only food fest on the Williamsburg waterfront that features 100+ vendors. I mean, I knew what I was in for—I’d even prepared by wearing an elastic-waist skirt, a dual-purpose headband/sweatband, and an old t-shirt that could take some food dribbles without causing major upset. Even though I was attired for serious gluttony and chugging a large bottle of water, I was soon overcome by the 90 degree heat and relentless sun. After a quick stroll around the premises to survey my options, I double-fisted some snacks and made my escape. Here’s the rundown:
Cinnamon Sugar Donut from Dough ($2). My longstanding doughnut love, Doughnut Plant, has a rival now! This doughnut was incredible—light, airy, and chewy, with a freshly fried outer layer dusted with crunchy sugar. I also got one topped with hibiscus icing, which tasted like tart berries and flowers. OK, writing this is making me yearn for more of these donuts. Moving on.
The Sydney from Asiadog, a beef frank with Thai mango relish, red onion, cucumber, cilantro, and crushed peanuts ($4). I loved the relish on this, and the dog was decent, although maybe not up to Crif Dogs’ (bacon-wrapped) standard.
Basil Raspberry popsicle from People’s Pops ($3.50). This was fine if you’re cool with raspberry seeds in your popsicle, but I would not recommend getting this at Smorgasburg. It seemed like a good idea on a hot day, but it ties up one valuable hand and quickly starts to melt on everything. It dribbled sticky raspberry rivers on my hands, the ground, and the nice man who offered to throw it in the unreachable trash can for me. Once freed from this albatross I could get back to eating.
A Switzel, with organic blackstrap molasses, ginger, lemon, and honey ($3.75). I’m a little obsessed with ginger at the moment, so this was a refreshing twist on standard summer beverages like iced tea and lemonade. It’s a bit sweet from the honey and blackstrap molasses, which is apparently a good source of iron and calcium. I bet this would be amazing with bourbon in it.
Chicarron Papusa from Solber Papusas, a grilled corn patty stuffed with pork and cheese, topped with picked onion, cabbage, sour cream and a spicy pickle ($4). You can tell I’m winding down here because I’m getting sloppy with the photography and have moved into the shade. I never understood why people raved so much about papusas, but now I get it—all the papusas I had before this one were lousy.
That was all I managed today but I shall return with back-up next time.
Smorgasburg is open on Saturdays from 9am-5pm
Williamsburg Waterfront at North 6th St. and Kent Ave.
I went to Vandaag in search of stroopwafels. This elusive cookie comes from Holland–which always sounds more proper in conversation than “Netherlands,” by the way. Stroopwafels are a snack consisting of caramel squished between two buttery wafers, often consumed with coffee, and placed on top of the cup so the steam makes the center gooey. They’re sometimes sold in fancy-pants groceries, although some of these varieties are fakers that use maple syrup instead of caramel, or are just not very good. In fact I haven’t had a really tasty stroopwafel since Dean & Deluca stopped stocking some forgotten brand years ago, so I’d built up quite a craving. As a result I’ve had Vandaag–a restaurant the New York Times described as “vaguely Dutch,”–on my hitlist since it opened. Read more…
“Glorified Popeye’s,” he muttered. “No it’s more special than that,” I said. We both fell to the task of devouring fried chicken down to the bone. Maybe I thought it was special because of the setting—a summer night with a hint of fall, after the most photogenic sunset the city had seen in months; the JMZ train rumbling not-unpleasantly overhead, a beer cooling in my hands. But on second thought, maybe it really was the chicken.
My chicken box ($11), which was served on a plate, came with three pieces of brined, deep-fried chicken. Lightly crisp, golden crust (not too greasy), a bitable prison for tender, juicy meat. Umami-receptors-screaming-hell-yes, belt-loosened-to-first-notch, satisfaction. Pies n’ Thighs also has a pulled pork box, fried catfish box, chicken brisket sandwich box, and burger, but I can vouch for none of these. Just get the fried chicken!
The chicken box also came with a choice of side and a biscuit. Since they were out of hush puppies, I chose grits, and my associate chose collard greens. What passed next can only be described a mutual flicker of disapproval for the other’s taste in Southern side dishes. The grits were fine–a creamy baseline for fried chicken savoriness–at least around the edges. I did not appreciate the squirt of hot sauce soaking in the middle. It’s like putting hot sauce on mashed potatoes; sure, you can do that, but should you? The collard greens were allright, if you like greens seasoned with plenty of salt and pork. The biscuit tasted like it had been baked much earlier that day and had been patiently waiting my arrival. But since it was otherwise a fine specimen, I liked it well enough. I didn’t expect much from a side of peaches and cilantro ($4), and it pretty much met my expectations. Maybe this combination works in a salsa, but I thought that the perfectly lovely peach wedges would have been better off left unadulterated by cilantro. Still, none of the sides were bad, and I came dangerously close to not having room for pie.
I ordered a slice of key lime and my associate ordered banana cream ($4.50/each). When our slices arrived the waitress switched them so the banana cream settled in front of me. When my associate promptly pulled it back across the table, and sent the key lime sliding my way, I realized that perhaps I should have ordered differently. But since I’ve been forged by the fire of many years of snacking, I tucked away my pie without complaint. The key lime filling was suitably tart and creamy, but the pie would have been 100% better had the graham cracker crust not been soggy. The banana cream slice was far better. I did sense something in the banana filling that tasted suspiciously instant-puddingy, but I merely noted it and moved on to enjoyment.
I have a feeling I’ll be back. Pies n Thighs is not a fried chicken “event” like the $100 Momofuku chicken dinner, or trek-worthy, like a soul food meal in Harlem. But it’s pretty likely I’ll be in Williamsburg some evening, wandering from one place to the next, and it will strike me that what I really want right now is some plain, unpretentious, and tasty fried chicken. Without setting foot in a Popeye’s. And this time I will order the banana cream pie.
Pies n Thighs
166 S. 4th St. at Driggs St.
Mon-Fri breakfast: 8-11, lunch: 11-4, dinner: 5-12
Sat-Sun brunch: 10-4, dinner: 5-12
Rice to Riches sells rice pudding. Really, that’s it. But wait! This isn’t like other rice pudding you’ve had; this rice pudding is FUN! At least, everything about this shop pleads for you to think so–from the pod-like front doors, to the overly-designed packaging, which consists of indestructible orange plastic UFO-shaped dishes and odd curving implements from a future where spoons are obsolete. Not to mention the girth-obsessed signage everywhere, proclaiming “big is beautiful” and “no skinny bitches.” Located smack in shopping-obsessed Soho, it’s no surprise this place is a draw for out-of-towners. But if there are two things that can do battle with “touristy” and “kitschy,” they are “creamy” and “delicious.”
I admit it, this probably the best rice pudding I’ve ever had; and some of the best pudding I’ve had, period. If I’m ever packed off to a retirement home where I’m forced to make do with watery instant rice pudding, you can bet I’ll be mail ordering this stuff by the tub. The rice is cooked to ideal tenderness, and compliments a deliriously creamy texture that can only be faulted for being too rich. Half a serving of their smallest size, the “solo” ($6) is usually enough to send “full now please stop” signals ricocheting from my brain. Flavors have been composed to mimic their real-world counterparts with satisfying accuracy: coast to coast cheesecake, fluent in french toast, and take me to tiramisu being among my favorites. I’d advise avoiding citrus-based flavors like surrender to mango, which is completely overpowering. My all-time favorites are the relatively-plain category 5 caramel and understanding vanilla, with a topping like crumbled graham crackers or caramel sauce ($1 each). Luckily, free samples of puddings are available and limited only by how much you wish to irritate the counter person helping you.
The only thing that really nags me is the packaging. Once you get past the initial novelty, it seems a bit of a waste. Sure the tupperware-grade bowls are reusable, but I don’t need more plastic dishes. Throw my pudding in a paper cup so I at least feel like I’m not poisoning planet earth, why don’t you? Help a skinny bitch out here.
Rice to Riches
37 Spring St. between Mulberry St. and Mott St.
Sun-Thu 11am-11pm, Fri-Sat 11am-1am.
Papabubble, a downtown candy lab specializing in flavorful hand-made hard candies, smells like the inside of a sugar bowl. Jars of crayon-colored treats line the walls, alongside oversized spiralling lollipops and jewel-hued ring pops. There’s usually a couple of candymakers at work behind the counter, in what amounts to a free show. Today they’re busy chopping up long glossy sticks of spun sugar into bite-sized discs. “Is that a ghost?” I ask, pointing to the tiny freakish face imprinted on each one, and I’m told it’s actually a special Hannibal Lecter Halloween candy. I’m handed a sample, which dissolves into bright mango on my tongue.
Watching candy being made is a strangely mesmerizing experience (see ropes of candy being pulled by hand in this CoolHunting video) and since Papabubble makes custom candies and sugar sculptures on request, there’s usually some new part of the process to watch, or a different flavor to sample, each time you visit. The prices for pre-packaged candies are not cheap–2oz bags run $5, 7oz small jars are $14.50, and a one-of-a-kind ring pop is $20—but the candies come in beautiful bespoke designs each one packs a lot of flavor.
Varieties include pink grapefruit, raspberry, anise, bergamot, pear, fizzy cola, red chili, ginger lemon, and several others. My favorite so far is watermelon with salt and chili (spicy, sweet, salty–just like the watermelon sugar cocktail from Mayahuel in candy form). This time around I did not spot the watermelon candies but I was sorely tempted by the black and white “Halloween mix” and ended up purchasing a big cherry-flavored black heart lollipop ($7). Highly recommended stop for sampling, browsing, or picking out a cute gift.
Papabubble
380 Broome St. between Mott St. and Mulberry St.
Tue.-Sat. 12pm-9pm, Sun 12pm-6pm
Other locations in Amersterdam, Barcelona, and Tokyo