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.
If you enjoy vistas of deserted industrial streets and dramatic harbor skies, Red Hook is the hood for you. But even if you’re not in the market for cheap Swedish furniture or reveling in misanthropy, there’s other reason to head out here. Ever since the Red Hook Lobster Pound opened last year, lobster-lovers in particular have been finding the trek worthwhile.
(looking down Van Dyke Street, Red Hook)
Ever since Luke’s Lobster opened in the East Village, I’ve consumed more lobster rolls than I care to admit, including a couple from the not-enigmatic-enough Dr. Claw in Greenpoint. Sadly, Dr. Claw was shut down by the Department of Health in August for running an underground lobster roll operation out of his apartment, but when he was in business he bought his crustaceans from the Red Hook Lobster Pound. Taste-wise, Dr. Claw’s rolls were totally legit. But I couldn’t really see the outsized persona (we’re talking shades, gold lobster claw bling, and third-person self-referencing) and the novelty of exchanging cash on the street for a hot paper bag, NOT attracting a big story in New York Magazine. (The article at the NYmag link has some interesting info about why lobster is suddenly affordable street fare by the way). I hope Dr. Claw is back in a DOH-blessed operation soon because the rolls spoke for themselves, but generally I’m happy to cut through the pretense and go to the source.
(a shot of one of Dr. Claw’s deliciously basic creations, before the bust)
The Red Hook Lobster Pound is located in the midst of gentrification creeping up Van Brunt Street, which is relatively lively with shops, galleries, and restaurants. Inside the pound, two large vats hold live, fresh-catch lobsters trucked in from Maine. They’re available for purchase although they encourage reservations on weekends. Rolls are ordered up at the counter, and seating consists of a bench outside or a picnic area next door.
I ordered a Connecticut-style lobster roll ($15 and pictured at the top of the post), which was served with grilled lobster meat topped with lots of butter, paprika, and scallions in a toasted split-top bun. The roll comes with chips and a pickle, and ginger ale was $2.50 extra. My friend got the Maine-style roll (pictured above), which had cold meat lightly dressed in mayonnaise. Both were excellent and filled with huge chunks of delicate claw meat. I slightly preferred the Maine version, since I couldn’t resist eating the Connecticut roll long enough for the lobster to cool and quit burning my tongue. My friend slightly preferred the less mayonnaisey version at Luke’s, and I thought the toasted bread at the Pound was a bit better, but we thought they were pretty much neck-in-neck. The amount of lobster in the rolls was generous at both places but the total price when you included the soda was slightly steeper at the Pound than at Luke’s, where a drink is included for $16.
In addition to the slight pricing difference Red Hook is not that easy to get to. The F train makes a hard right away from it, damning residents to walking from the Carroll Street stop under the Gowanus Expressway and through housing projects to get to the snacks. One alternative is the M61 bus, which runs from the 9th Street stop up Van Brunt Street. The ferry from Ikea to Pier 11 in Manhattan is another option, although they recently started charging $5 each way unless you spend $10 at Ikea. Basically, if you’re up for furniture shopping, exploring the neighborhood, or heading out to the Latin food stalls at the Red Hook ballfields, stopping in for a roll is a must. But if you’re feeling lazy, you can do just as well at Luke’s.
Red Hook Lobster Pound
284 Van Brunt Street, Brooklyn
Wed 12pm-8pm Thurs-Sat 12pm-9pm Sun 12pm-8pm
It’s the wee hours on a Saturday, and in just a little while farmers will be driving in from upstate and tents and tables will be set up and piled with fruit, vegetables, flowers, herbs, breads, meats, jams and cheese. Everyone, from professional chefs to budding cooks, shops at the Greenmarket year-round, but if you ask me, August is the best time to go.
Why? Well I’m all for supporting local farms and eating fresh, organic produce, but to be honest, I enjoy the little dose of sensory overload I get here. The variety of produce at this time of year is stunning: exquisitely sweet yellow peaches (watch for bees), a couple dozen strains of heirloom tomatoes (check NYmag for suggestions), sweet corn, watermelon, sunflowers, bunches of fragrant basil, plump blackberries, as well as perennial staples (garlic, shallots, kale).
The prices aren’t always cheap, but the quality is usually great–one of the aforementioned heirloom tomatoes will make that vine-ripened Jersey-grown cluster from Whole Foods taste like a shadow of a tomato.
While looking for one thing, I usually spot it in a form that I’ve never tried before. While looking for salad greens, I picked up some purslane; while shopping for mushrooms, I decided to try oyster mushrooms. I once asked a man selling jam what the difference was between the raspberry and black raspberry jam and he was flummoxed. “That’s like asking the difference between steak and lobster,” he said. I went with the lobster.
The reason for all this Greenmarket love is that I’ve been cooking at home for the first time in forever. Yes, I’m a rarefied beast who largely subsists on takeout, leftovers, supermarket buffets, and beer. That is, until lately. Stay tuned for more on this story.
Greenmarket
Union Square West, between 14th St. and 17th St.
Mon, Wed, Fri, Sat 8am-6pm
A guide to what’s in season
As I slogged into work the morning after Memorial Day, my bleary, weekend-weary eyes alighted on a most unexpected sight. The Schnitzel & Things truck, which has eluded me for months, was parked on 46th street, right in my lunch path. I canceled my morning bagel and an oh-so-subtle spring entered my step as I mentally prepared to schnitzel it up come lunchtime.
Schnitzel, a product of Austrian cuisine, is a boneless piece of meat that’s pounded flat, breaded, deep-fried, and served with a wedge of lemon. The most famous variation, wiener schnitzel, is made out of veal, but there are other varieties. The Schnitzel & Things truck serves chicken, pork and cod versions, as well as a toothsome-looking schnitzel burger, and bratwurst. Schnitzel can be ordered in a sandwich ($8) or as a platter with two sides ($10). Sides include potato salad, cucumber salad, french fries, chickpea salad, roasted beets, and mesclun salad (sample of 4 sides is $8).
I went with the chicken schnitzel platter. The cutlet was generously-sized, perfectly crisp, yet not terribly greasy–quite possibly ideal bookends for a schnitzel double down. A squirt of lemon, and generous dipping in pesto mayo sauce enhanced the otherwise plain flavor (ginger, olive, sriracha, and tartar sauces are also available, and absolutely essential). As for the sides, I enjoyed the roasted beets–the sweetness of the beets was cut by a crumbly layer of salty, rich feta cheese. The potato salad was… well, you’ll probably never see me get worked up about potato salad, but it was sufficiently tasty when dipped in mayo. In fact, my sole criticism with my lunch was I could’ve used more sauce.
I can only think of one other critique. I’ve always assumed food truck-eating should be, above all else, wallet-friendly. Platter or no, $10 is about the maximum that I can pay for truck fare without feeling chumpish. Even though it’s probably worth it, it’s better for my waistline if I don’t eat schnitzel too often anyway. Also, judging by the crowd of people during my early lunch stop, there will be a sizeable line following this truck around. But the queue moved swiftly, and they were handing out free, deep-fried balls of prosciutto and ricotta for folks to munch on, which certainly helps pass the time.
Schnitzel & Things truck
Check Twitter for locations
You can eat poutine any time of year, but this Quebecoise treat tastes best when it’s really, really cold outside. I’m talking Montreal in January cold, the kind of frigidness that invades unusual places like your eyeballs and your teeth. Now that I don’t drive a car anymore, I don’t mind winter. I enjoy having an excuse to stay home, drinking dark beer and swaddling myself in layers of wool–the better to hide the gut I’m packing from savoring my favorite foods. Poutine is actually very simple–it’s just french fries and cheese curds, melted into savory gobs under a layer of steaming gravy. But it is somewhat tricky to execute. Proper curds are not easy to find, the fries should be fresh, the gravy ratio MUST be perfect, and a snowstorm backdrop doesn’t hurt either. Unlike your typical diner cheese fries, which fill you with self-loathing and regret, poutine, when it’s done right, warms your cockles, which I believe are located somewhere somewhere between your gullet and your spleen.
Poutine is pretty rare in the States but there are a few places in New York City that serve it. On Saturday, I checked out TPoutine on Ludlow Street, a relatively-new burgers-and-fries shop advantageously located in the booze-soaked Lower East Side. A classic poutine ran a steep $7.25, and came served in an appealing iron skillet, the curds just beginning to melt in their gravy bath. The cheese curds tasted authentic, and were generously-sized, although this possibly prevented them from completely melting. The fries, to their credit, maintained a fair amount of crispness, but the gravy didn’t taste much more than hot. A friend’s plate arrived with entirely too much gravy, which soon made the fries soggy, so it may be to your advantage to tell them to go light. All-in-all, this did a fair job satiating my poutine craving, but I’m told it’s not as tasty as the stuff you’d find in Montreal. TPoutine is open til 5am on weekends, so I could foresee a making late-night pit stop, but I’d probably keep looking for the really good stuff–my next destinations will likely be Mile End or Sheep Station in Brooklyn. There’s also decent and cheaper version available at Pommes Frites in the East Village.
TPoutine
168 Ludlow St between Stanton St & Houston St.
Tue-Wed 12pm-2am, Thu-Sat 12pm-5am, Sun 12pm-2am