Daddy-O’s Tots Are Hot To Trot
Tots!
Who doesn’t like tots?
Maybe the better question is: who doesn’t like the idea of tots? Because let’s face it – most tots you get are soggy, steamy and mushy. They are generally not the crunchy, crispy tot you were envisioning – or felt the menu promised – when you saw them on it.
Tots evoke childhood, high school cafeterias and all the angst that entails. There are very few food items that whisk one back to that awkward, transitional age like a tot. Which is why finding a place that serves up tots expertly is awesome.
The exterior. Doesn't really look like anything.
At a recent lunch in the village a friend suggested we sample what appeared to me to be an unremarkable bar. Turns out the place is called Daddy-O’s and has a reputation for, of all things, tots. This brought on one of those “I love New York” moments: step into seemingly random place, land in totopia. Why is it the two places that specialize in tots in NYC both have “Daddy” in their names? The other is the regrettable Big Daddy.
"The Plate."
We ordered something called “The Plate,” which seemed to me to have ten tons of food for just $14. The Plate includes two burgers, macaroni salad and home fries. Sounds like enough food for two, so we opted to share it. As it turned out, the burgers didn’t come with buns, but rather smothered in a sauce with a spicy mustard striping. They sat on top of the macaroni and potatoes, like a bed. The whole thing seemed pretty messy.
The bar... .
I should spend just a quick moment talking about the decor. As you can see, it’s a pretty classy-seeming bar, inside, lots of wood, and there’s a few tables around the exterior along the big windows. It seems dark from the outside but inside it was in fact quite, well, homey – if you’ve spent a lot of time in bars. Now back to the food.
Cutting into the burger.
So as you can see there, the burgers were covered in a kind of a chili sauce. The chili wasn’t very spicy at all, but added the smokiness you’d expect. As you can see the whole thing was dripping with juices, which went on to create an ugly sort of lake, but more on that later. Either way, the burger was well prepared – not overcooked at all. Next time I think I’ll get it on a bun and give that a more thorough review. All in all, for a place that appeared to be a simple bar, it’s clear someone there really is thinking about the food and trying. Kudos for that.
The burgers really do sit on the macaroni and potatoes.
This image demonstrates well the issue with The Plate. All of those flavors wind up jumbled below. I love macaroni salad, but I am not sure I could tell you what this tasted like, because it wound up tasting like everything else on The Plate. Which is to say “not bad at all.” The smoky, slightly spicy, beefy, mustardy flavoring isn’t unwelcome. But it is a bit of a jumble.
Lake Greasy Exrcretion can be found at the bottom of 'The Plate,' with islands of macaroni and potato explorable.
You can see all the liquids glistening in that shot, and again, everything winds up tasting like everything else on The Plate. I’m not going to lie, the mixed pool of red grease, white runoff (presumably from mayonnaise in the macaroni salad) and so forth isn’t pretty. I am tempted to make a wildly disgusting biological simile about what it looks like, but think it’s best if I don’t and simply let the image speak for itself. After all, last time I made a biological reference in a review, one commenter took it badly.
Tottus superiorus.
The tots, however, were served separately. They were even better than they look. Since they were in their own plate, they did not get sopped with The Plate’s lake of juices. Hence, they were still incredibly crunchy and hot! They tasted like tots should – as in fried potato goodness that seems to almost pop when you bite into them. They have a wonderfully satisfying crunch and a decent (not overwhelming) salt. They are rich and just a little bit greasy, but just the right amount to add a slightly sinful zest. The slight parsley garnish adds a little flavor and perhaps the delusion that there might be something good for you in all this.
Look, I did enjoy The Plate. It’s a tremendous amount of food for $14, if sloppy. Daddy-O’s tots, though, were the clear winner. I will be back for those tots and multibeers some time when the situation is right. Right now, they are easily the best tots I’ve had in town.
Daddy-O
44 Bedford Street New York, NY 10014 No website 212.414.8884
A clutch of people await at the door.
At this point, Joe’s Shanghai on Pell Street needs no introduction to New York City foodies, as it is considered (generally) the Manhattan birthplace (or early adopter, or perfecter) of that prized piece of dim sum: Xiao Lon Bao, or Soup Dumplings.
Inside, approaching a table.
Like Magnolia Bakery, this insider-y place wound up explosively taking off (though without the benefit of a viral video) because if there’s been a chocolate and peanut butter moment since, well, chocolate and peanut butter, it is soup and dumplings.
For the remote few of few who are unfamiliar with soup dumplings, they are dumplings where there is a small portion of delicious, piping hot soup within the dumpling‘s casing, along with the savory mix of meat inside.
They are not, therefore, dumplings served in a bowl of soup, so we’re clear.
Joe’s is probably at this point on just about every tourist’s Chinatown hit list, or so it seemed when I stopped in to get lunch during jury duty on nearby Center Street. There was a group of people who appeared to be from Tampa (or Boise) gathered outside the shop, smiling (as well they should be).
Inside, the place was about a 50-50 mix of people of Asian descent and non-Asians. When I walk into an “ethnic” restaurant I hope to see a hefty representation of the ethnicity responsible for the food. That, in a restaurant, usually signifies to me that the food it is selling has retained its authentic quality. I think most foodies would agree: you want to see lots of Koreans at a Korean BBQ joint, Afghans in an Afghan place, Russians in Russian joint, and so on and so on.
At the communal table. A preview of the goodness to come in the foreground.
At any rate, this place is so wildly popular with non-Asians that I took the ratio to actually be pretty good, considering it was lunch. At least it continues to play well with its core constituency, or so it seems. I was seated at a communal table next to a couple who seemed to speak only Chinese, ordering sans menu.
The waiter knew right away what I wanted (naturally), so a menu wasn’t necessary for me either. Since it was just me, a single order of xiao lon bao would easily suffice.
Xiao Lon Bao.
For the uninitiated, xiao lon bao are not pretty. They look like scrota. They essentially have the exact same function: a casing around a ball of meat and fluid. The meat, in this case, is a mixture of crabmeat and pork, and it is very delicious.
Eating xiao lon bao requires technique.
The most important step in this technique is, by far, the first: do not eat them right away when they are served. No no no no no. They are brought to your table at nuclear heat. If you greedily gobble one up, you will scald your mouth so badly that all you will be eating is strips of your atomized gum and cheeks that dangle between your teeth. Do not do that.
Pluck from the top.
Step two of eating xio lon bao: proper transference of the dumpling to the spoon. It is important that you use the metal tongs to grip the dumpling around the pinched “nipple” at the top of it. Approach from the side, and you will tear your dumpling’s skin, and all the soup will run out of it. Grip from the top, pull straight up, and quickly get your spoon underneath it.
Place it in the spoon.
Step three of eating xiao lon bao is nearly as important as step one: blow. Blow on them. You must blow on them when they first arrive. Do not be fooled by them not seeming to radiate steaming vapor. They are incredibly hot within. Blow on your dumplings, you won’t be sorry.
The soy/ginger dumpling sauce.
Step four: ladle on a portion of the ginger/dumpling sauce mixture they are served with.
The ginger soy wakes things up. The dumplings, when they are served, come complete with piping hot broth. The noodle wrapping is a touch doughy. The broth within is surprisingly fatty. Maybe not surprising, considering the pork involved. The crabmeat flavor shows up when the overall temperature is not at nuclear meltdown proportion. That said, once it does show up, it still complements the pork, doesn’t overwhelm it.
Oddly, there is a strong sour note in the ginger/soy mix… .
After the application of soy/ginger.
Step five (advanced users only, if not skip to step six): Grip the “nipple” of the dumpling with your chopsticks. Both hands are now involved, one supporting the spoon with the dumpling, the other manipulating the chopsticks and gripping the top of the dumpling. Pull gently upward with the chopsticks, not enough to lift the dumpling out of the spoon, but enough to create tension around it and a well within the dumpling for remaining soup to travel to before overrunning and spilling into the spoon itself.
Biting into it. Be prepared to slurp.
Step six: bite into the side, pressing your lips against the dumpling and creating a seal. Commence sucking down the delicious soup as it floods through the bite.
Step seven: gobble the rest when you can.
If you have followed those steps correctly, you will enjoy the full combination of textures and flavors xiao lon bao offers.
Gravy in the spoon.
Personally, I generally prefer to eat them in one large, close-mouthed bite once they are sufficiently cool. Then the whole thing bursts in your mouth and is just spectacularly awesome.
The bill. Can you believe it?
Is it the case that you can get cheaper soup dumplings in Chinatown? Maybe. But, damn, that level of quality for that price, hoo boy.
(For the record, I ordered the beer only once I was done with jury duty for the day).
Joe’s Shanghai
9 Pell Street New York, NY 10013 212.233.8888 www.joeshanghairestaurants.comSampling The Calexico Street Cart
The dude likes his punk rock when making Mexican.
I’ve made my way through many – if not most – of the fancier food trucks in New York City, so I was pleased to finally get a chance to sample Calexico, which I understand to be one of the better carts around – I seem to recall hearing it won a Vendy award. As the name would suggest, they offer a California take on Mexican fare (at least, that was my guess).
Young, hip crowd at the cart... I felt like I was crashing a college party.
Now maybe it was because the cart was located deep in the heart of Greenwich Village, but the first thing I noticed was the crowd gathered at the cart. For lack of a better term, it was a crowd of hipsters and swells. I also noticed the youngish, hip guys operating the cart were listening to punk music on their iPod speaker system. For a plain old cart, it was surprisingly hip. I got the feeling that if they could serve PBRs, they would.
The menu... .
Either way, I asked the gentleman for a suggestion as it was my first time there. He suggested the skirt steak burrito, which is an easy sell for a guy like me. It was, however, $9. For a burrito?
The burrito. Not the widest and fattest, but hefty, nonetheless.
When I got back to my desk, I was able to tuck in. The man said it was supposed to be skirt steak. If so, it was very well trimmed skirt steak – better than the cut from Frites N Meats, which I enjoy. These pieces lacked the wire of fat so often associated with that cut. Biting into the burrito you quickly discover terrific, chunky pieces of beefy steak.
Black beans around beefy steak.
The burrito is also served with a roasted tomato salsa, which is the second-most dominant flavor in it (other than the beef). It adds the faintest acid and a smoky touch. It’s not enough to overwhelm the steaky goodness you get when you bite into one of those succulent chunks.
Pretty tasty... .
Also wrapped up in the burrito are rice and beans, which didn’t really register as particularly special to me. Perhaps some of the beans added to the overall flavor. There was supposed to be cheese and avocado salsa in there as well, but again, neither punched through in any way to me.
It is worth commenting on the construction of the burrito itself. It completely held together, not allowing juices to drip out or a hole to appear at the back end when bitten at the top. It didn’t fall apart, which is an unfortunately common fate for a burrito.
So, $9. Really? That’s what a burrito costs nowadays? Wow. I don’t know… in the West Village, I get it, and the quality is good, but it seems a bit gougy. I don’t know.
I’m not sure if it’s up to the standard of El Rey Del Sabor.
It is quite good though. I’ll likely be back.
Calexico Cart
Wooster & Prince Street, M-F, 11:30-4 www.calexicocart.comBack At Murray’s Cheese Shop, Trying A Nor’Easter
Back at the shop... .
It had been a few weeks since I first tasted the awesomeness that was Da Bomb from Murray’s Cheese Shop on Bleecker Street, and I was definitely craving another – or at least sampling another one of the “melts” they serve there.
Sold out? Da noive!
The choice was made for me when I arrived and the Bomb had gone off – they were sold out! That was sore disappointing, but not surprising, considering the degree of awesome involved.
Asking for a recommendation, it was suggested I get a special melt, the Nor’Easter: braised pork belly, smoked mozzerella, pesto, mayonnaise, piri piri and red onion on sourdough bread. Again, just $6.99 for those amazing sounding ingredients.
The Nor'Easter. It may look burned, but it wasn't... .
I did not know what piri piri was, but it wasn’t hard to guess: a kind of chili. The result is a spicy sandwich with strips of pork belly. I wish I could say it was as good as Da Bomb, but alas, it wasn’t. But it was very good, and I’m amazed you can get the quality of food you can get for the price at Murray’s.
So let’s talk about the sandwich. First of all, it wasn’t quite as easy to handle as Da Bomb, which was essentially this overstuffed envelope of beefy, cheesy happy.
Notice the construction. The cheese doesn't join the slices of bread.
Perhaps this had to do with the Nor’Easter’s architectural construction. Since the pork belly was cut in strips, as you can see above, it was unfortunately all too easy to try biting into one and wind up pulling the whole darn strip sloppily out, leaving a trail of gooey cheese from my mouth to the sandwich. That construction issue made handling the sandwich a bit more work.
Perhaps it had to do with the cheese. The smoked mozzerella was wonderful, but it did not act as glue sealing the two pieces of bread together, surprisingly. The result was wayward bits of pork belly or red onion might bravely try to escape the confines of the crispy, slightly burned toast. Even if they succeeded, their freedom was short lived, I assure you. The sandwich is tasty enough to go hunting for stragglers.
The sourdough toast had a wonderful quality: it was both crispy in places while also sopping with the various juices from the cheese and pork belly. There was a butter note besides… .
The spiciness overwhelms the mild smokiness of the mozzerella.
The mozzerella itself was of course delightful, but it is too mild a cheese to compete with the spiciness of the piri piri and depth of flavor from the pork. Ultimately, even the pork couldn’t compete with the piri piri, which was the truly dominant flavor of the sandwich. I could not detect any pesto flavor in there – nor even really much onion.
The piri piri, by the way, was not blistering hot, but certainly hot enough to get your attention. If you’re not a fan of spices, you should avoid it.
On balance, the Nor’Easter was good, but it’s no Bomb. I’m certainly likely to return to Murray’s again.
ME LIKE EAT 