Writing With My Mouth Full

Pylos

128 East 7th Street between First and Avenue A
212/473.0220
$40 each for two, with drinks, without tip
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I’m always excited to find another Greek restaurant in the city. I was even more thrilled to try Pylos because I walked by its glass wall one night and took a note of it as a must-try when I make it back to the neighborhood. When a friend wanted to meet for dinner before heading out on a Saturday night, I suggested that we go there even though I never got a chance to look it up and read about it. I later learned that the owner partnered with Diane Kochilas, a widely recognized authority on Greek cuisine, to be the consulting chef–I now remember the cookbooks on display in the restaurant.

We started with crispy phyllo dough filled with cured beef pasturma, tomatoes and kasseri cheese. The flavor was subtle but very savory. The octopus was grilled and I couldn’t get enough of the balsamic reduction on the plate. It could have used a lot more of the sauce though, so that the octopus was a little bit more flavorful. They had ran out of the anchovies and the cabbage leaves stuffed with rice and ground beef, so we immediately moved to the main course of grilled baby lamb chops which were perfectly medium-rare and soft, served with stuffed eggplants and slivers of fingerling potatoes. The chops were so good they made up for the maitre d’ who huffed and puffed when we inquired to be seated without a reservation on a Saturday night.

We got the table next to the giant glass wall under a ceiling covered with unglazed clay pots. (Pylos stand for “things of clay”, see?) The street lamp outside illuminated our side of the restaurant and gave the front section a warm glow while the back room looked like a long dining hall. Everyone around us seemed like they’ve been going to Pylos for years since most tables were comprised of bigger groups. I’d have to come back with my own posse, but I’ve taken a more detailed note: Pylos is a nice little spot without the frills of a New York City Saturday night. It was perfect for two friends and could be perfect for a first date.

Where to eat in Norwalk: Valencia Luncheria

Arepa is a South American patty made of cornmeal which can be grilled, baked or fried and usually topped or stuffed with cheese or meat. Other areas in Latin America have something similar; the El Salvadorian pupusa being the most familiar to me. So how good can arepas get? If you ask me, it’s all about the filling because I can’t tell if the dough was laboriously made or if a store-bought cornmeal was used. I like my arepas light but filling; go easy on the meat inside and you’ll make me frown.

Valencia Luncheria is very generous with their arepas. Between my friend and I, we ordered several arepas stuffed with pulled pork, shredded beef, chorizo, roast pork, chicken and cheese. Out of all of them, the pulled pork was probably the best, followed by the shredded beef which had some sweetness to the sauce. The spinach and cheese arepa was a godsend after all the meat and I wished I ordered more of it. The chorizo wasn’t moist enough–I ended up picking and eating them on their own. After my third, I was skipping the cornmeal and just eating the filling. We also ordered ceviche at a whopping $10 for a small cup and it lacked oomph in the seasoning department. I like my ceviche less on the tomato slush and more on the lime and cilantro flavor.

We went just in time before dinner rush began. A few groups were waiting for tables right by the counter when we left. With the downpour outside, everyone congregated in Valencia’s tight quarters. Apparently, it gets even more crowded on the weekends during brunch. There’s no beer or liquor for sale in the restaurant, but there is a deli a few stores down where you can buy to bring your own. Still, our bill for three people went up almost $70 and I think I was just stuffed more than I was satisfied.

Valencia Luncheria is at 172 Main Street in Norwalk, Connecticut. You can call 203/846.8009 to ask how long the wait is for brunch.

Cafe Cortadito

210 East 3rd Street between Avenue B and C
212/614.3080
$158 for 4, with drinks, with tip
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One of my favorite things about eating with friends? Sharing food. One of my least? Wasting food. So I was taken aback when I read the footnote on the Cafe Cortadito menu that a fee would be tacked on if main courses are split between guests. I’m not exactly sure as to why they would stop diners from sharing a dish because each one is ample for more than one. It probably made sense when they were still waiting for their liquor license, but now that you can order a pitcher of champagne sangria and a few glasses of red wine, sharing a ropa vieja with a bottle of Cab between friends just makes more sense to me.

Chef Ricardo Arias is Salvadorian, and his wife, Patricia Valencia, is from Ecuador, but you wouldn’t know any of that when you taste the Cuban-inspired food. The meat dishes were delicious; the skirt steak was well-seasoned and I couldn’t stop eating the chimichurri salsa. The oxtail braised in tomatoes and red wine reminded me of a good family meal. I didn’t finish my dish but I ate as much as I can that I had heartburn for the rest of the night. Of course, I could have skipped the maduros, or the sweet plantains, but I couldn’t help myself from ordering something else besides meat. By the end of the night, I was pining for fresh and green vegetables with a shot of whisky to push everything down.

I’m not a big fan of paying a lot of money for Latin food because I grew up in Washington Heights in New York City and was surrounded by very affordable home-cooked meals from the Caribbean and Central America. Besides, most of the Cuban restaurants I’ve tried were not even good enough to warrant a review. Cafe Cortadito changed all that: the food is simply tasty even if I couldn’t share all of it.

Related post/s:
Read about my 2003 trip to Cuba

Where to eat in Englewood, New Jersey: Nisi Estiatorio

I was attracted to Nisi after a press release came in about their Easter weekend special: lamb on a spit. I’ve been around many pigs and cows on spits before but never a whole lamb, so I jumped on the chance to partake during one of the biggest Greek religious holidays of the year. For some reason, I had a picture in my head that we’ll be on New Jersey greenery whiling away our Sunday afternoon with drinks in hand. Not so. The lamb were definitely roasting on spits just outside the restaurant, but they were along a busy main road next to the parking lot. We didn’t really spend any time outside watching the lamb cook because it seemed silly to be standing on hot concrete when there were white tablecloths waiting inside the spacious and airy restaurant. I was disappointed, for sure, but I soon got over my expectations when the food started to come in.

The grilled sardines were superb with capers and only a drizzle of lemon juice and good olive oil. Grilled sardines made me happy when I was in Tunisia–the closest I’ve ever been to the Mediterranean–and I can’t wait for the day when I finally go to Crete and someone’s grandma will feed me the same dish on the beach. The octopus was so tender, it disappeared in under five minutes.

The magiritsa, a soup made of lamb offal, was the most delicious soup I’ve had in a long time. Thick from the avgolemono, or egg-lemon mixture, and rich from the lamb parts stewing for several hours, it made me want to have the flu just so I can eat a whole pot of it. It’s that kind of soup that would make you feel so much better if you were under the weather. The sweetbread was soft and rich and we couldn’t get enough of the carp roe mousse with ground almonds and the roasted eggplant spread.

When the roasted lamb was finally served, we were glad to see some of the best parts on our plates. It was amazing to me how the lamb was cooked evenly just outside the restaurant. I grew up experiencing roasting animals as a part of a bigger event and I was pretty impressed that this could be done at Nisi without the hoopla of an entire village partaking in the process.

I have to mention something about the service. When we first walked in, we were taken aback at how formal everything looked. We felt out of place because we were the only couple in the entire restaurant; everyone else was seated with their big families. Our waiter, however, made us feel relaxed. He gave us tidbits about Greek food: the red egg on the traditional braided bread, or tsoureki, symbolizes the blood of Christ and the renewal of life, while the magiritsa is eaten to break the 40-day fast undertaken by Greeks during Lent. He was also very helpful in guiding us through which Greek wines matched our meal. He encouraged us to order per glass since we expressed our limited knowledge in Greek grapes and he happily poured us small tastes to steer us towards the best-tasting ones.

We might not have danced or screamed opa! that weekend, but because the food harmoniously came together, we felt like we had our own celebration of Greek Easter at Nisi.

Nisi Estiatorio is at 90 Grand Avenue in Englewood, New Jersey. Call them at 201/567.4700 and ask the next time they roast lamb outside.

Perilla

9 Jones Street between West 4th and Bleecker Streets
212/929.6868
$147 for three, with a bottle of wine, without tip
♥ ♥

I’ve watched Top Chef enough to know that the judges sometimes can’t make up their minds between “cooking outside the box” and “sticking with what you know”. You had Carla who finally stuck with the food most familiar to her and she made it to the final round. You had Marcel the twat who does everything Wylie Dufresne style and the judges sometimes thought it–he–was too much. But then there were episodes when the contestants were not trying hard enough or were trying too much–you just couldn’t predict what the judges were going to say next.

When Frank Bruni gave a less than stellar review to Perilla, Harold Dieterleâ€™s first restaurant, my heart went out to the first-season Top Chef winner. I can’t even imagine the anxiousness chefs feel when their new restaurant opens in New York City because one review can either make or break them. Three years later, Perilla is still in business and thankfully so because I had a very good dinner there a couple of months ago with some friends. We were looking for a low-key spot to get together and catch up with our holiday stories, particularly a small place where we didnâ€™t have to scream at each other to have a conversation. In fact, Perilla doesnâ€™t even look like it came from a TV winner. I gather that if people who have never seen the show walked in the restaurant, they would think the same way I did: Oh, this is nice and cozy and that’s about it.

I walked in and joined the standing queue at the bar one prime Saturday night. My friends joined me a few minutes after the bartender made my martini and we were soon seated right next to the kitchen entrance. I went for the sure-fire lamb while my friend ordered the fish; her fiancé, beef. A hamachi crudo was refreshing with yuzu and the notorious duck meatballs didn’t disappoint. Brussels sprouts and sunchokes are usual fare in seasonal menus and they both served their purposes well at Perilla.

The portions were larger than what I usually see in the city for the same prices, and considering I was unemployed at the time, I couldn’t complain. The food and the service matched the ambiance: nothing was overdone because everything was modest. Maybe now that chef Dieterle has made it past Bruni’s claws, he’d be willing to cook outside of his comfort zone. But you know what? Maybe I’d like for him to cook just the way he’s been cooking.