Awash Ethiopian Restaurant, Amsterdam Ave. between 106th and 107th

When I ate the soury, spicy leftovers from Awash, an Ethiopian restaurant on Amsterdam Avenue, I thought of Abraham Verghese's characters in Cutting for Stone and how they longed for the taste of Ethiopia.  Verghese's narrator, after he's moved to America, finds himself entering an Ethiopian restaurant in Boston.  "The smell of fermenting honey elicited a Pavlovian response from [his] taste buds."  He eats as  if he had lived through a famine.   An Ethiopian restaurant in New York conjures up for the narrator "the sour taste of injera and a fiery wot" and his mouth begins watering.

I ate at Awash several months ago with my sister.  On the walls, painted in shades of lemon and lime, pictures of women and pastoral scenes hang.  The food we ordered was served on a big round tray, set in the middle of the table.  The yebeg wat, a lamb stew seasoned with berbere sauce contained tender chunks of meat in a rather thick brown soury-spicy sauce.  The gomen, collard greens, were cooked with onions and a hint of cardamon.  The yemesir kik wat, split red lentils cooked in berbere sauce were perfectly al dente -- a bit of a crunch as you chewed into the soft center.  All was served on a wonderful, spongy bread.  There is no silverware.  You pull a piece of the plentiful bread and scoop the sour-hot stew from the platter.  I imagine this is a taste you acquire.  But it is fun to tear off the bread, scoop up the food, and talk.  

Cafe du Soleil, Broadway between 104th and 105th

A late, light dinner for a Friday evening away from the bustle and noise of the city:  Cafe du Soleil.  The restaurant is light and cheerful -- a yellow-gold awning covering cafe tables on the sidewalk (too cold) and a warm, tiled interior with big mirrors on the walls, reflecting and opening up the space.  We arrived about 8 p.m. and were immediately seated at a table in front of the window -- and beside the host's lectern.

We could have been adventurous (well, as adventurous as one can be in a French bistro,) and ordered something other than the steak frites, but that is what we both like very much.  And I have a tendency to want to try out the French fries where ever I go.

We started by sharing the Frisee au Rocquefort Salad with thinly sliced apples, ground walnuts and a Dijon vinaigrette ($9.95).  Then we split the grilled, marinated hanger steak ($23.95), a generally tough cut, which was tender in portions and a bit chewy in others.  The steak was covered with a rich Bordelaise sauce suffused with fresh rosemary (in fact, a branch of rosemary lay across the layered steak portions.  The pomme frites, served in a paper cone, were superb:  buttery and crisp on the outside, soft and potatoey on the inside.  We ate every single one -- dipped either in ketchup or the wonderful reduced red wine sauce.


For dessert we shared a banana cream pie which was more a tiramisu with bananas in a vanilla wafer crust ($7.95).


Cafe du Soleil offers specials every day:  Monday, any steak is $12.95; Thursday any fish is $12.95; Wednesdays bottles of wine are half-priced.  They offer a pre-theater special (just hop on the #1 train at 104th and you'll arrive at Lincoln Center in about 5 minutes) for $21.95, a prix fixe menu on Sundays for $25.95.


                             

Mama Mexico, Broadway @ 101st Street

Mama Mexico has fun drinks, live music (a traveling guitar player with a fabulous voice who croons Happy Birthday in English and Spanish, as well as more traditional and modern songs), decent, higher end Mexican food, and lots of noise -- depending on where you're seated.  It so happened that a large party of men were in one room, we were seated in the glassed in "green house" decorated with colorful hanging lanterns and baskets of twining ivy.

Two at our table ordered festive margaritas that looked like a lava lamp as the layers of blue, pink, and yellow bled into each other.  There is also a full complement of Mexican (and American) beer, as well as an extensive wine menu.

Hot tortilla chips with a fresh salsa -- full of tomatoes and cilantro -- are served before you order.  Then the drinks came.  We ordered a guacamole which was prepared at our table -- a whole avacado scooped out and mixed with chopped tomatoes, onions, and spices.  Two at our table ordered the Tacos al Carbon ($16) -- soft corn tortillas rolled with grilled skirt steak with refried beans and pico de gallo,  and served with black beans and rice, lettuce and guacamole.  One of us ordered the cheese enchiladas ($15).  And I ordered pollo con mole poblano ($16) -- two tender boneless chicken breasts smothered in a spicy, (not sweet) chocolate sauce and sprinkled with sesame seeds.  (Since reading Like Water for Chocolate, I've always ordered chicken mole when it's available).

We might have ordered dessert, but it took fifteen minutes for our waiter to return, and by then we asked for the check.  It took another half hour before the charged statement was brought back for our signature.

Dinner for 4 with two margaritas and one beer came to $104 and change.

Rack & Soul, 109th just east of Broadway

Stacked to the right of the entrance behind the window (where else do you stack wood in NY?) is a quarter cord of split wood for Rack & Soul's wood-smoked barbecue.  And what barbecue it is!  We passed through the charming, wooden bar area with its half dozen tables to the back room -- a paneled extension with planked floors and a few tables and booths.  Photographs of old New York (circa 1900) grace the walls.  There's even a photo of our building just after it was built!  The restaurant was quiet on a Sunday night around 8 pm.  Usually, it's far more crowded.

Right after we sat down, plates with two hot, just-baked biscuits were set down before us.  We ordered two Abita beers ($6 each) brewed from Louisiana spring water, and fried crawfish tails with a creamy smooth pink sauce faintly tasting of lemon juice, ketchup, mayo, and cayenne pepper.  The crawfish, brought almost immediately from the kitchen, were covered in a deep-fried film of batter.  We also ordered the combination platter (choose two entrees from ribs, pulled pork, BBQ chicken wings or fried chicken, and choose two sides from broccoli, asparagus, collard greens, string beans, black-eyed peas, lima beans, baked beans, cole slaw, stewed okra, macaroni and cheese, candied yams, white rice, mashed potatoes, french fries, potato salad, or a belgian waffle).  I would have liked a taste of everything.  Alas, something to save for another day.

The wood-smoked ribs were tender, not fatty, and so thick, it seems we'd ordered pork-roast with a little bone. A sweet barbecue sauce covered only the outer surface, though you could squeeze on more sauce (piquant or sweet) from a plastic bottle on the table.  Or, you could add tabasco sauce, also on the table.  The fried chicken was what I remembered from my childhood -- when Maggie, who sometimes cleaned and sometimes cooked for us -- whipped up her version of fried chicken: A crunchy, dry crust of batter around tender, moist chicken.

The collard greens were over-cooked as they have to be, dark green (making us feel righteous about our healthy choice of a side dish), with a hint of vinegar and butter.   The finely chopped cole slaw in a creamy, celery seeded sauce was among the best cole slaws I've ever had.  Yay, vegetables!

And then dessert.  We had to try the pecan pie and the banana pudding layered over sliced bananas and vanilla wafers, as if it were a trifle.  Both were very good.  The pecan pie was loaded with chopped nuts in a fairly dry (for pecan pie) pudding redolent of brown sugar, molasses and butter.  The banana pudding melted the vanilla wafers, making me feel like a kid again who liked to dip her vanilla wafers in milk.

Our bill came to $60.59.

Community, Broadway between 112 and 113

Despite the snow and the three inch thick ice blocks that traversed the sidewalk in front of stores that didn't shovel and the six inch puddles of slush you had to step into (or walk great distances to circumvent), we made our way up 4 blocks to Community, a restaurant we'd been meaning to get to since it reopened in October after a grease fire had closed it down for six months.

Community seats its guests at, well, communal tables.  Long tables fill the center of the main dining room where the acoustics verge on loud.  We found ourselves talking in more than hushed voices to be heard over the laughter and good stories told at nearby tables.  In fact, we found ourselves entering the conversations at the tables on either side of us -- eyeing and commenting on the butterscotch pudding topped with whipped cream two women shared, overhearing a discussion between a brother and sister of last year's production of Euripides off-Broadway and ogling the very attractive shrimp pot stickers and perfectly browned zucchini scallion pancakes .

Ordering wine was easy, once we'd decided against the $50 dollar bottle of pinot noir from France.  I ordered the malbec ($9) and David ordered a pinot ($12).  Then the hard part:  how to choose among the apparently healthful, organic beautifully prepared entrees.  We ordered the special salad:  arugula, toasted walnuts, bacon and blue cheese tossed in a pear vinagarette -- which we shared.  I judge a salad on the crispness of its vegetables and the smoothness of its dressing.  This was ambrosia -- the sweetness of the pear emulsified with olive oil and vinegar.

David ordered the Hudson Valley duck breast ($23) served with sheared and grilled brussel sprouts, whole wheat spaetzle, and a rich port sauce one would normally find on a steak.  In fact, the medium rare duck tasted like steak -- but more tender.  I ordered a hamburger ($14) medium rare (more for the fries than the hamburger!) -- but it came medium well, and our enthusiastic, charming waiter took it back to the kitchen and brought me back my fries.  Rather than another burger, I ordered the shrimp pot stickers ($8.50) -- which were delicious.  These pan-seared dumplings arrived perfectly browned.  Inside the al dente rice paper, chunks of shrimp mixed with ginger and something green I could not identify.  Suffice to say, it was as good as it looked -- and better.

For dessert we ordered the special which will soon be on the menu:  coconut-banana cream pie.  So creamy the dollop of whipped cream on top seemed redundant.

Our bill came to $75.32.

Silver Moon Bakery, Broadway @ 105th

On weekends, the line snakes out the door.  Weekdays, you see the odd couple or solo person sitting on the bench outside the bakery balancing a cup of coffee and a pastry.  I often walk by the steamy windows which signify just baked breads and cakes and pies.  And "real" doggie biscuits.  The fresh oven aroma wafts out to the street, like the genie from Aladdin's lamp luring you into a deal you're not sure you want just now.  I don't often allow myself to go in -- but when I do, I reward myself with golden brioche baked into jelly-filled doughnuts or swirling cinnamon buns topped with sugar frosting.  There's something irresistible  about pulling off fresh chunks of sweet, yeasty bread that melts in your mouth.  You want another and another, even though you vowed to yourself when you bought the highly caloric pre-dinner snack that you'd only take one bite and save the rest for later.  There never is a later.

about $4 per pastry.

Garden of Eden, Broadway south of 108

I should mention the Garden of Eden -- where we buy most of the food we bring home:  milk without antibiotics, fresh eggs, la Semeuse coffee, honey crisp apples, navel oranges, crisp and deep green Swiss chard, cheeses, pastries, Erica's rugalach (filled with nuts, raisins and apricot or raspberry filling), Lake Champlain dark chocolate from Vermont, roasted almonds, pasta, cakes, breads, fish, meat, and more.

Tonight I was could not pass by the Baba, a golden sponge cake soaked in rum.  It was true to its name -- wonderously fresh and rum-soaked.  Though I intended to leave some for tomorrow, I ate every bite.

Jerusalem Restaurant, Broadway south of 104th

This is a hole-in-the-wall with a window out to the street for fast service.  There is a counter that seats exactly four and two or three tables.  While waiting for my take-out order of lentil soup (yep, had to have another Middle Eastern fix) and salad, the cook put out a plate on the counter piled with what looked like French fries, but they were crisp, hot pita fries cut in length-wise strips and topped with herbs.  The cook offered me one.  I liked it.  He then filled a paper coffee cup and handed me far more than I would have wanted to eat.  But I ate every one -- before I got home.

The yellow broth thickened with lentils, diced carrots, and potatoes had a mild flavor.  It needed a squeeze of lemon to give it more life.  The salad was fresh and filled with my choice of tomatoes, cucumbers, feta cheese, olives and chopped parsley;  it came with a tahini dressing, which made me wish for falafels.

Salad and soup and free chips came to $8 and change.

Turkuaz, Broadway and 100th

Coming from Detroit where there is a plethora of wonderful Near Eastern eateries, I often hunger for a good hummus or baba ganoush, a good grilled lamb chop or kebob, a good lentil soup, and hot, freshly baked bread.

You enter Turkuaz and you are in a room redolent of the Middle East:  wooden floors covered by oriental rugs, banquets surrounding tables, a wooden bar.  You go through a blue velvet curtain to enter the back room where the ceiling is draped with silk upholstery fabric (that might cover a sultan's sofa) and the tables are covered in white tablecloths.  At about 8 on a Friday night, when we came in, the room was not terribly crowded.  By 9:15 when we left, the tables had mostly filled, and yet, the space was serenely quiet.  We could easily converse without shouting over loud music or a crowd's din.  At 9:30, a belly dancer was coming.

We started by ordering two glasses of red, Turkish wine and an appetizer sampler ($19.95) which included six cold appetizers:  Humus, babaganus (mashed eggplant salad), patican salatasi (eggplant salad), soslu patican (cubes of eggplant cooked in tomatoes and garlic), acili ezme (spicy, finely chopped vegetables), cacik (thick yogurt, cucumber, garlic and fresh dill), and imam bayildi (baby eggplant with onion, red and green peppers, pin nuts and garlic).  Each salad was divided by sweet, oblong slices of cucumber.  Freshly baked flat bread was served for dipping.  The sizable portions covered a large plate -- and all were unexpectedly delicious.  Our favorite were the sweet tasting chunks of eggplant cooked in tomatoes.  Our second choice?  All of them.  We loved the thick and smooth texture of the ground chickpeas in the humus; the garlicky, cucumbery yogurt, the smokey flavor of the babaganus, the unusual texture of the eggplant and vegetable salad -- ground with what tasted like pine nuts.

For our entree we ordered the grilled baby lamb chops ($26).  They were served with a mound of rice pilaf, and a mound of cut-up tomatoes mixed with chopped onion, parsley and dill.  The lamb chops, cooked medium-rare were extremely tender and tasty.  I relished every bite.

We almost left without dessert, until the charming hostess dressed in traditional Turkish garb suggested the kazandibi or milk pudding ($4.50).  It was a large, thin square of yumminess -- creamy, like a creme brulee, but not as rich -- covered with a dusting of cinnamon and ground walnuts.

We look forward to future visits when we can order the grilled fish, the chopped tomato, cucumber, and green pepper salad, kebaps and koftes and dolmas, and other delectable Turkish delights.

The bill came to $80.24.

Columbia Cottage, Amsterdam and 111th

Columbia Cottage is our local Chinese restaurant -- and it's good.  The corner dining room surrounded by windows (you can gaze across the street at The Cathedral of St. John the Divine if it's still light out) is usually crowded with Columbia students and professors who often hail from provinces represented by the menu's varied cuisines:  Szechuan, Hunan, and Shanghai.

We often order in (columbiacottagenyc.com/food-delivery/ConsumerMenuSelection.m?extVendorLocationId=2715), but prefer to sit in the restaurant and be served hot, steaming food straight from the kitchen.  The Chow Fun noodles with 10 ingredients were pleasantly smooth and sticky.  Chow Fun noodles, those thick rice noodles served in Chinese noodle shops, are often coated with a smokey, aromatic sauce and are wonderfully chewy.  Our dish came with slivers of beef, chicken, pork, and whole shrimp, as well as an assortment of vegetables.  We also ordered the chicken with eggplant which came aromatically spiced with big, tender chunks of eggplant and sizable slices of chicken.  

On other occasions we've had the okra with green string beans, Moo Shu Gai pan with chicken, corn and chicken soup, General Tso's shrimp, Lake Tung Ting Shrimp, and fresh roast duck.

To my palate, the food's a tad oily, but none-the-less, delicious.  And the range of options feels limitless.