Usually I’m not too eager to try vegetarian restaurants, so my excitement leading up to dinner at Dirt Candy was pretty much unprecedented. By “vegetarian restaurants,” I’m not talking about ethnic fare that happens to be meatless, like you’d find at a falafel place or certain curry houses. I mean the kind of restaurant that claims vegetarianism as its raison d’etre. The kind of place that throws tofu or seitan in your $20 entree as if that were a worthy substitute for meat. The kind of place where you watch your lovely and adorable vegetarian companion happily tucking into soy byproducts and visualize a pulled pork sandwich over their face in silent retaliation for what you are about to consume. Dirt Candy, on the other hand, sounds like the kind of restaurant I could really enjoy. Instead of trying to replicate meat dishes, chef Amanda Cohen elevates vegetables as the main ingredient using an innovative menu and bold flavors. After trying to stop in a couple of times, I realized that it’s near-impossible to simply walk in and get a table. Instead I had to make a reservation a week ahead on Open Table, plenty of time for my anticipation to build.
The restaurant is squeezed into a narrow, studio-apartment sized space that’s intimate for two people but probably claustrophobia-inducing for a group larger than three or four. I had to perform a careful balancing act on my chair, which threatened to dump me onto the floor, for much of the night. There were really no other chairs to trade with though, since every table was full. Our server asked straight away if we were vegan, since Dirt Candy uses dairy but each dish can be made vegan on request (we said we were not). Throughout dinner this server, who was nice enough, kept re-stocking wine glasses on the wall behind my head–a fairly irritating setup, but one I was able to ignore once the food arrived.
First course was a plate of jalapeno hush puppies served with maple butter ($6). They were easily the best damn hush puppies I’ve ever had. Deep fried yet light corn batter with a subtle jalapeno heat is tasty enough, but when lavished with sweet, creamy maple butter, it’s a knockout. I actually had to restrain myself from eating more of that wonderful butter straight from the dish. Fortunately the next round of appetizers arrived before I could so debase myself. A plate of three steamed carrot buns ($11) was a bit of a letdown due to the fact that the buns were way too bready, detracting from the intriguing sweet filling. After several guesses on our part (“beets?” “figs?”) our server told us the filling consisted of water chestnuts, sesame, carrots, and barbecue sauce. The buns were served with a small side salad of jullienned cucumber and ginger, with crumbles of sweet, crunchy sesame halvah. All the ingredients really sang in the side salad, and the halvah won me over much the same way the maple butter did. A second appetizer, and probably the highlight of the evening was the mushroom plate ($13). This was a deconstructed dish, featuring a square of portobello mousse, a pile of roasted portobello mushrooms, a peach and fennel compote, toasted bread with truffle oil, and a drizzle of reduction sauce running along the plate. Now, I have a complicated relationship with mushrooms. I’ve found them both delicious and off-putting at times, and I typically don’t eat them by themselves. But I enjoyed this dish. The earthy, complex flavor of mushrooms infused in a silky mousse reminded me of one of those disorienting taste sensations I get while eating Japanese food. Is it delicious? Not quite, but it is unforgettable.
For my entree, although I was intrigued by the corn dish which featured a “tempura poached egg,” I went with the tomato plate, because while I’m conflicted about mushrooms there are few things I love more than tomatoes. This dish was three perfectly battered and fried green tomato slices atop yellow tomato sauce with toasted coconut and jicama, flecked with little doughy balls of spaetzle. This was satisfying, well-rounded dish, but it didn’t wow me like the hush puppies or mushroom mousse. However, I appreciated it more after tasting the zucchini entree, with mint and terragon pasta, squash blossom relish, and yogurt & saffron sauce. The pasta seemed sodden with bland, tahini-like sauce, and I didn’t catch any mint or tarragon, although little falafel balls at the edges of the plate provided some needed textural contrast.
By the time we got to dessert my stomach was at capacity and my friend doesn’t do chocolate, so we split the only non-chocolate option on the menu, popcorn pudding. As promised, the pudding was infused with popcorn flavor and came with a side of hazlenut caramel popcorn for dipping. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: many restaurants do a lousy job with dessert. Compared to the rest of the menu, the pudding was pretty basic, but executed well enough that I’d have gladly given any one of the other desserts a try if I could have possibly eaten more.
In total we spent $107 on two entrees, two appetizers, one dessert, hush puppies, and two glasses of wine, not including tip. This isn’t outrageous, but I left feeling perhaps my expectations had been too high. Had the zucchini entree and carrot buns been better, I’d probably feel it was money well-spent. As it was, I was glad I tried Dirt Candy, but felt one visit was enough. If you’re looking for a place where dietary restrictions are no obstacle to inventive cuisine, or if you have a lovely and adorable vegetarian or vegan on your hands and are looking for someplace where you can both eat well, this is a good place to check out. I can tell you honestly, I didn’t visualize pulled pork once the entire night.
Dirt Candy
430 E. 9th St. between First Ave and Ave. A
Tue-Sat 5:30pm-11pm
reservation recommended
I didn’t have the slightest interest in going to farmer’s markets when I lived in the country. Since I moved to the city, I can’t resist them. I’ll wader around squeezing peaches, plucking tomatoes, staring at piles of waxy red peppers, and day-dreaming about all the things I can slather with jewel-toned jam. Lately when I visit upstate I’ll usually stop at a farmers market, hunting for something I can’t find in the city, because it’s closer to the source.
A couple weeks ago at the Montgomery Place farm stand outside Red Hook I spotted a bucket of “our own” pink pearl apples, all pale green with just a faint flush under the surface. The sign assured me that this apple was beautiful on the inside, so I took one home and nerded out over what I’d just bought.
Pink Pearl is an heirloom apple, first developed in Northern California in 1944. An heirloom, or antique plant is typically an older variety that was never grown for large-scale agricultural use, and that relies open open pollination from insects or wind. Heirloom apples tend to be less attractive, or abundant, or hardy than supermarket moneymakers like Granny Smith and McIntosh, but there are hundreds of varieties (there used to be thousands), many boasting unique colors, textures and flavors.
Despite its dull exterior, my pink pearl apple had crisp, juicy, white flesh ribboned with gorgeous streaks of pink. Its taste was precariously balanced between sweet and tart, but in a good way, like lemonade. These apples ripen in late summer, before you’re even thinking about of apples, and only hang around for three or four weeks, so it’s not likely that I’ll get another Pink Pearl this year. That is, unless someone’s got the lowdown on a stash here in town.
Montgomery Place Orchards Farm Market
intersection of 9G and 199 in Red Hook (about 100 miles north of NYC) (845) 758-6338
Next to Bubby’s Burritos!
Last night I slept under the covers. This is notable because during August my apartment never drops below a steamy 80 degrees (I dislike air conditions, ugly white-noise units that down out my window symphony of crickets, owls, cars, and clattering dishes from the restaurant next door). So the end of summer is usually a relief, like a fever breaking. The only downside is that there’s just a few days left to pick up my favorite Greenmarket snack, before they go out of season.
Fresh peaches from the Greenmarket put supermarket peaches to shame. Ripe, unbruised, and fragrant, with a deep golden hue and sweet, juicy flesh, they taste a little like the local answer to mangoes. They’re delicious eaten alone or with vanilla ice cream or garnishing a plain cereal like Special K. Italians serve them sangria-style soaked in red wine. I grabbed two for $1 on my last visit, which seems steep until you taste them.
Peaches don’t ripen off the tree so be sure to pick a ripe one and eat it as soon as possible. Look for a deep golden background color, no bruises, and a strong, peachy fragrance. They should give a bit when squeezed. If you’re holding one that isn’t fuzzy, it’s a nectarine.
If you’re a peach fan, don’t miss this peach dessert slideshow.
Union Square Greenmarket
Union Square West between 14th St, and 17th St.
Mon, Wed, Fri, and Sat 8am-6pm
An all-vegan ice cream parlor that looks like an old-time sweet shop, Lula’s might be the lacktard’s jackpot. Now instead of envying the cone-lapping trances shuffling down the sidewalk, gastronomically-challenged folks and their omnivore buddies can bond over frozen treats here. The menu includes a couple of soy milk-based ice creams, including a convincing cake batter flavor, and about ten nut milk-based ice creams, many of them gluten-free. My favorite of the nut-based flavors is cinnamon, but other notables include orange creamsicle, cookies and cream, and mango coconut. Sampling is not only permitted, but encouraged, and I didn’t get any “omfg she’s asking for a fourth sample” attitude.
(There seems to be some variation in scoop sizing. On my second trip I got a much larger scoop)
As for taste, this is a pretty good dairy substitute, with no weird soy flavor and spot-on creamy texture. There’s a telling lack of buttery richness, but I can eat about half a dish ($3.75) before I even register it. Vegan treats like white-”chocolate” covered pretzels and pectin gummi bears are also for sale, not to mention egg creams ($3.75). An egg cream is a classic NYC beverage (Lou Reed even wrote a song about it) that usually consists of chocolate syrup, seltzer and milk mixed to form a fizzy head. Lula’s non-dairy version was a fair approximation of the classic egg cream I’d had at Gem Spa, although in both cases I got the sense that I was drinking a poor man’s ice cream float.
Lula’s Sweet Apothecary
516 East 6th Street between Avenue A and Avenue B
Wed 3pm-10pm Thu 3pm-12am Fri-Sat 3pm-1am
As country roadside burrito stands go, they don’t make ‘em better than Bubby’s. This teeny trailer with its green, hand-drawn “Burritos” sign appears sometime in May, near a farm stand at the intersection of Route 199 and 9G in Red Hook, NY (upstate, not Brooklyn). The vegetarian menu boasts just four items, all made-to-order: burrito with guacamole ($6.50), burrito without guacamole ($5.50), cheese quesadilla ($4.00), and auguas de frutas ($1.00). The guac burrito is a satisfyingly fat bundle of rice, beans, lettuce, tomato salsa, cheese, sour cream and guacamole wrapped in a toasted tortilla. Everything tastes fresh, and just a bit of chipotle hot sauce, available at the counter, adds some welcome heat. A couple of picnic benches suffice for seating, and the crowd–if you dare call it that–is a mellow mix of locals, daytrippers and Bardies (hippie-ish students from the art school up the road). The husband and wife team that run Bubby’s split their time between upstate NY and their cafe in Mexico, so come autumn the trailer disappears, not to return until next summer. HIghly recommended stop for lunchtime munchies if you’re in the area.
Bubby’s Burritos
intersection of Route 199 and 9G Red Hook, NY
open during the summer Tues-Sat 11-5
If the weather is stormy, or portends storminess, they may be closed. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.