I am a true southerner. South Brooklyn, that is. Born and bred. Even though I don’t ride around on candy paint, or refer to everyone as “shawty,” I feel that I’ve eaten enough real southern BBQ to earn the right to marry my first cousin. For my BBQ fix I usually head to Jakes BBQ in the Columbia waterfront district of Brooklyn, but my new year’s resolution for 2012 was to not eat at the same place twice. So I whipped out my shamefully long list of places I wanted to checkout and decided on Mable’s Smoke House in Williamsburg. I strapped on my hipster repellent and headed down to PBR heaven.

Mable’s Smoke House is located on North 11th Street and Berry Avenue, in the ‘burg. It’s a self service type place, where you order from the counter and the food is brought over to you.  There is a full service bar and communal seating, which I hate. I don't feel I should have to suffer by sitting next to some hipster while he plans his next demonstration for Occupy Wall street. Luckily it was a Sunday night at 9pm and the place was dead. After a quick skim of the menu, here’s what my friend and I decided to order:

Fritos Pie ($7) :  Anyone who knows me knows that I love pie. Apple pie, cherry pie... all kinds of pie. So when I heard they had a fritos pie, I needed to have one. A 50 cent bag of fritos chips ripped open and topped with ground beef, shredded cheddar and a side of sour cream. Basically, hillbilly nachos.  The beef had a little kick to it but the sour cream took it down a notch. The pie was probably as good as panty pie. 

  

DeLux Platter ($28) : Your choice of three meats and three sides, plus pickles, jalapenos, sliced onions and wonder bread.We chose the brisket, pulled pork and St.Louis ribs. For Sides we went with Mac & cheese and a coleslaw.

Brisket:  Tender pieces of thickly sliced brisket that fell apart when I lifted them from the dish. A mild, smoked flavor that brushed your palate with utter goodness with every bite.  

 

Pulled Pork:  Chunks of pulled pork served dry (without BBQ sauce). I topped it off with Mable’s BBQ sauce and it was like I walked into the nexus of another universe. I think of myself as a BBQ connoisseur. I mean, I put that shit on my eggs. And I’ve never tasted a BBQ sauce like this before in my life. It was sweet, smokey, tangy… everything a good BBQ sauce should be. 

St. Louis Ribs:  There’s always the debate of dry ribs (without BBQ sauce) vs. wet ribs (with BBQ sauce). I don’t like dry pussy, so why on g-d’s green earth would I want my ribs dry? When a rib is cooked properly the sugar from the BBQ caramelizes the meat, thus forming a crust, giving you a crunchy out layer and sealing the juices inside giving you a juicy, tender, rib. And that’s exactly what this rib had. This rib should be inducted into the rib hall of fame.

Mac & Cheese :  Old school  Mac & Cheese made with elbo macaroni. Creamy and good. 

Coleslaw :  Fresh, crunchy and cool down some of the heat that from some of the meats. 

The bill came to $40.24. That is dirt cheap. It was a lot of food, not enough to put you in a food coma but just enough to hit your craving for good BBQ.  With all the BBQ joints popping up in Brooklyn Mable's makes my list of the top 3. Mable's was a great way to kick off 2012 and sticking to my new year's resolution. Eh, fuck resolutions, we just got reservations.

Mable's Smoke House 

44 Berry St  Brooklyn, NY 11249 

(718) 218-6655

 www.mablessmokehouse.com

My family and I celebrate most occasions with Chinese food. Yes, we’re the stereotypical Jews, but it’s in the Jewish people’s handbook; rule #3. Going out to eat with my family is an adventure. Okay, more like a really bad reality show.  Now, don’t get it twisted; I have a great set of parents and a brother. But my father tends to eat rice grain by grain. I mean, the man eats slower than a convict having his last meal on death row. My mom - to her everything is salty, expensive and, according to her, we will never find a parking spot. As for my brother, well…. He has the manners of a baboon with Down Syndrome. He tends to look at his watch every few seconds and asks for the check before we even order. So, you can see how difficult going out to with my family dinner can be.

It was my father’s birthday. My brother was going away on vacation so that was one headache out of the way. My pops and I had always talked about venturing into Brooklyn’s Chinatown neighborhood, which started on 65st stretched down 8th Avenue until the hipsters gentrified the rents. As approached the area we were clueless as to where to eat. I knew about Pacificana, but I wanted to stay away. I was looking for something more off the beat. I just feel any place with a New York Times write up would be flooded with Park Slope moms trying to order in broken Cantonese they learned from Rosetta Stone. So after 10 minutes of walking around, we had enough decided to try this place called New Sea Wide Seafood restaurant.

The place was dead except for one guy who was watching Oprah in Cantonese. Go figure. As we waited for our menus, I prayed homeboy wouldn’t bring over the “white boy menu”. As I skimmed the menu I was glad to see there was no dish option of a half chicken with french fries. I had no clue what was or wasn't authentic but I figured if I haven't seen it on any run of the mill take out menu I'd be okay. Here's what we ordered.

Baby shrimp with egg ($8.95) :  The shrimp was a little larger than what you’d call “baby,” and was mixed with scrambled eggs. It was a simple, delicious dish. You could tell the egg was fried in sesame oil, which gave it more of an authentic flavor. The shrimp, although not deveined, was tender and fresh. 

 Beef chow fun ($7.95):  One of my favorite dishes is chow fun and I wanted to order it to see if it differed from the white boy style you would get in a random take-out joint. It did. Slices of tender beef and Chinese broccoli lay atop a mountain of flat noodles fried in soy sauce. Not only do I love chinese food and girls but I now love their Broccoli. Yes, I live in a cave and have never tried Chinese Broccoli. Tender and crisp, the crunchy texture blended well with the tenderness of the beef and the softness of the noodles. 

Chicken with scallion and ginger ($8.95):  I’m an asshole. This wasn’t what I thought it was going to be. But I’m Mister know it all and got it anyway. Boiled chicken choked up and served with a side of scallion ginger sauce. Eh, took two bites and decided I’d rather pick a homeless man’s nose and eat what I found.

  

Roast pork ($6.95):  Your everyday hung in the window roast pork. Sliced up and served for me to eat within 2.3 seconds. Tender, juicy and sweet. I’m somewhat convinced all window roast pork was created equal. 

Chili squid($9.95):  Pieces of squid, deep fried, and sprinkled with chili peppers, salt and pepper. Not a bad dish, gave a little heat to everything else we were eating, which seemed a little dull on the spice side. The crust was a little heavy, which didn’t give any room to actually taste the squid. Either way, two thumbs up to this dish. 

Oh, and I got a coke. Just to keep it gully.

I wasn't really paying attention to the prices when I ordered but I figured the bill would be at least $100. I was shocked to see the bill come out to $43.75. Shit, I can go buy a pair of dunks with rest of the money. Everyone agreed the bill and the food was perfect. Although my love affair with Chinatown still lives on I honestly believe in 5 years Brooklyn's Chinatown will make Manhattan's Chinatown look like a motherfucking P.F Changs.


New Sea Wide Restaurant 

5810 8th Avenue
Brooklyn, NY 11220
(718) 439-3200

  

I try not to fall into food hype. I left the pizza in a cone to the culinary hype beast and the assholes with Yelp accounts. Lobster rolls had fallen into the hype category for me. For months on end, I’d walk clear past the long lines for Luke’s Lobsters’ storefronts and trucks with a grin on my face, quietly whispering “what a bunch of cunt muscles these people are waiting online for bullshit". But one day, on my way back from Ikea, I became one of those cunt muscles, minus the long line. I came across the Red Hook Lobster Pound on my way home.

Red Hook Lobster Pound is located on Van Brunt Street and is actually a lobster purveyor that just happens to serve lobster rolls. A good sign; you know it’s fresh. As you walk in there are two huge lobster tanks concealed with wooden counter tops. The menu, listed on a chalk board, consists of two types of lobster rolls: a Maine lobster roll and a Connecticut-style lobster roll. For some odd reason, I decided to go with a Connecticut lobster roll. I don’t know why. I hate that retched state. The only good thing about Connecticut are the strip clubs. The lobster roll came with a bag of Cape Cod chips and a bottle of Maine Root Soda, Mandarin flavored($3). The guy who made my lobster roll directed me to a seating area next door. 

  

The Connecticut lobster roll ($16): Chunks of tail and claw lobster meat served on a buttery toasted bun and topped with old bay spice, and what I think were green scallions. Now, I know you’re saying to yourself, “this idiot doesn’t remember if they were green scallions.” Well, you have obliviously never waited on the return line at Ikea. Anyway, a buttery crunchy bun stuffed with what I think was perfectly cooked pieces of tender, sweet lobster tail and claw meat. I know there is some kind of ratio of tail-to-claw meat that gets the sweetness of the meat to mix to get a nice balance with the old bay seasoning The old bay seasoning was a little heavy masking the sweetness of the lobster at times. Either way, it was still lobster and it was good. But then again, you can deep fry dog shit and it would be good, too. 

I guess I solved my curiosity about lobster rolls. On the scale of over-hype, ranging from 1-10, lobster rolls get a 15. I’m not going to lie to you; this was my first lobster roll. Maybe I’m missing something, but when you deconstruct this meal, it’s just a simple dish with a heavy price tag. I mean, even my a-hole ex-girlfriend can make a lobster roll and that bitch used to cook eggs in the microwave.

Red Hook Lobster Pound

284 Van Brunt Street  Brooklyn, NY 11231

(646) 326-7650

www.redhooklobsterpound.com

 I have a lot of followers on Twitter. Okay, about 1100, but I’m not gloating. Okay, I am. I get a lot of recommendations, but one that comes across my page often is Artichoke Basille’s Pizza.

I usually get these recommendations at 4am, and they usually involve a lot of bad grammar and a lot of words from a really bad rap song by hipsters from Ohio. These tweets are kind of like a drunken text message that doesn’t lead to sex, which only means one thing: after sloshing out of a bar/club they head over and get a slice. When you’re drunk, even broken, herpes infested glass tastes good.  I’ve already taken drunken restaurant advice once and that only led me to that shit hole POOP   POP Burger. But, much like every other situation in my life, I never learn my lesson. So one night, I was slightly buzzed and looking for a good slice. I figured since I was in the area, I might as well see what the culinary hype beasts were talking about and made my way over to Artichoke. 

Artichoke is located on 17th Street and 10th Avenue. As you walk in you see a large bar (that I’m guessing only serves beer), a few seats and a to-go spot in the back. I had a hard time trying to figure out where the line started because some cunt muscle tourists were waiting to use the bathroom. I glanced over and saw a tempting margarita slice, and what I thought was a white slice, but dude bro behind the counter told me it was an artichoke slice. Ding ding! Give me one of those and a margarita, please.

The Margarita slice ($5): Now, this isn’t your average margarita slice. It was big and bulky. It seemed like the kind of slice you’d get in Waco, Texas. A heavy glob of tomato sauce and cheese spread onto a thick, doughy-looking crust. I was wondering if they had a forklift in the back to help me lift this slice into my mouth. It was crunchy and chewy; a good sign. The sauce was perfect; a little sweet, but right on.

The Artichoke slice ($5): A fresh, right out of the oven thick crust slice, which looks like it was topped with mozzarella and ricotta and a few burnt cheese marks. Now, I don’t know about you, but burnt cheese marks on a slice of pizza are a good sign in my book. A few bites in and I became a believer. This was nothing like I’ve ever tasted in my 30 years on this planet of eating New York City Pizza. Crunchy, chewy, salty, creamy supremacy lay in front of me on a paper plate. It was like like vaginal juices of a goddess dripped down from upon the heavens and had landed on my pizza.

 

New York City is full of culinary hype; from pop-up restaurants, to pizza in a cone, to kid food critics. I don’t know about you, but when I was in the 5th grade, most kids ate glue. I thought Artichoke would fall into this hype but they proved me wrong. I am now a devoted follower of Artichoke Basille’s Pizza. By the way, I’ve had an artichoke slice everyday for the past week.


Artichoke Pizza and Bar ( 3 locations )
114 10th Ave • New York, NY 
www.artichokepizza.com
212-792-9200

  

   I found my self in the Flat Iron district one day, hungry. I wanted a burger so of course, shake shack came to mind first. Upon arriving at Madison Square Park, though, I saw a line zigzagging through the park. No fucking way was I waiting on line for an hour with these fuck sticks. Shake Shack is good, but it’s not wait-on-line-with-a-bunch-of-fucktards-for-a-burger-and-fries good. As I walked away in disgust, I saw a big yellow truck with a cartoon steer on it. It was the Frites and Meats truck. They made burgers, they made fries and there was just one hipster waiting on line ahead of me. This is where I was eating.

The menu has a build-your-burger option, which I prefer because I like to control my meat, just like in real life. I decided to go with a Waguy burger topped with cheddar on a potato roll, and an order of fries and a coke. As I was going to order the dude bros on the truck asked me if I wanted to try their bottle rocket burger, at least that’s what I think they said. It was a special burger they made to promote the opening of a wine shop a few stores down. I said sure, but I fucked up. I like to try what’s on the menu so that later, whomever reads this review says ‘that dick head Dave at Devour said this burger is good, maybe I’ll try it, fuck it’.

Bottle rocket burger : Wagyu beef, marinated in red wine, garlic and rosemary. (Oh, you fancy huh...) Topped with cheddar, raw onion, tomato, pickle, mesclun greens, ketchup and mayo on a potato onion roll that’s baked by Balthazar. My first bite squirted juices further than a porn star in heat. As I chewed the taste of Red wine and garlic started to subtley appear. Now, I never had a burger marinated in wine and garlic, but who ever idea this was, I'd like to give you a hug. 

The Fries : Belgian style fries served in a red and white cone. The fries were perfectly seasoned with little hints of salt. Although the fries tasted like they had a batter on them, I guess to make them crispier but not to the point where they felt like you were chewing on wet sandpaper.

Finally, after months of looking for a good burger, Frites and Meats finally satisfied my craving. Now that I think of it, I would like to thank all the dick heads who waited on line for Shake Shack that day. If it wasn’t for them, I would have never discovered Frites and Meats, my go-to spot for a great burger. 

Frites 'N' Meats

http://www.fritesnmeats.com

   My friends and I went out to support a friend DJ’ing at Bar Basque. I don’t know what the fuck was going on that night but I felt like I was in the middle of an episode of Jersey Shore, and not any of the episodes when they’re in Italy. This had to be the ugliest group of motherfuckers I’ve ever seen. It looked like the henchman line up from a Dick Tracey movie. My friend hadn't gone on yet and the DJ at the moment seemed to be playing music from a 16 year old iTunes play list, I felt had to medicate my momentary depression with vodka, lots of it. As the night went on the perfect storm was brewing. The mixture of vodka on the rocks and ugly girls with high self-esteem was making me hungry. I needed something to soak up this alcohol and that something was food from NY Noodletown in Chinatown.

Located on the corner of Bayard and Bowery, a big white sign glows against roasted meat hanging in the window. I’ve been to NY Noodletown once, after a late-night booty call, and luckily we only waited 10 minutes. This time we got a table right away but, as the night went on, the place filled up quickly. By the time we left, there was a line out the door.My friends and I decided to share a few small plates. A shrimp roll, an order of roasted duck lo mein, some roast pork and two soups with roast pork. Not only do I like to pork, but I like to eat it as well.

The Shrimp Roll: shrimp rolled into a batter and deep fried. Eh, nothing special.

The Duck Lo Mein: I suggested to my friend that we get the chow fun but he told me he was going to leave me on the Manhattan Bridge in my high top dunks if we didn’t get the duck lo mein. Roasted duck, served on what looked like Jewish egg noodles my mom used to put in her chicken soup. The duck was a little fatty but perfectly roasted. I can tell you one thing, I would not lose any sleep over this dish.

The Roast Pork: Sliced into long shreds and glazed like a donut. Bite after bite, the succulent pieces of pork made me wish I was born Asian. The flavors of soy, ginger, garlic and sesame had me eating until the point of where you would have to get a tow truck to bring me home.

The Soup: Chinatown style soup served in a huge white and blue bowl with a soup spoon and chopped sticks. A salty, sweet and meaty broth, served with shrimp dumplings that were so tender, had me whispering sweet nothings in it's ears. Long noodles that seemed to be the same as the ones in the lo mein, and topped with roast pork. I never order soup, simply because it’s not a meal, even if Jerry Seinfeld says it is. But I’d probably give up a steak dinner for this soup. Probably.

New York City is known for two things: being the city that never sleeps and being the culinary Mecca of food. With tons of late-night choice eats, NY Noodletown is the place to be, whether you need something to eat after an alcohol infused night or maybe some energy after a late-night booty call. Either way, head to NY Noodletown on the re-up.


Great N.Y. Noodletown

28 Bowery New York, NY 10013-5102
(212) 349-0923