Finding the Groove at Eighty One. Sweet and Tart, Again. New Age Delicatessen. Fat is Good.

Dear Friends and Family,

The mad dash to check out new restaurants, driven by the frenetic competition from hungry blogsters (mea culpa) rarely provides more than a preview of what a driven great chef or restaurateur can ultimately do. There was a masterly jolt of flavor in scallop and foie gras ravioli with a straw wine potion whipped up into a foam at an advance tasting of what Ed Brown intended to serve at Eighty One, what I saw as his gift to the Upper West Side. And the perfection of leeks with a black truffle tartine and soft boiled egg on my first visit inspired admiration as well as sticker shock.

But it took raves from serious foodie pals – three in one week – to get me back. Settled at the bar for a light supper before "Hair" in the park last Saturday, I did not get a light supper. What I got inspired the superlatives of this week’s BITE: Ed Brown Finds His Groove at Eighty One. Eating out eight nights a week as we do, I can’t say becoming regulars is in our budget. But the tab seemed gently reasonable given the pleasure.

I kept thinking about the new menu at Sweet and Tart
especially while writing BITE week before last. I wanted to taste all those odd-sounding dishes – fusion and classics, updated or gussied up – that owner Spencer Chan had brought home from Asia to launch the redo of his sprawling space in Flushing. It didn’t seem fair that the Road Food Warrior was in Aspen and missed the tasting that got me so excited. Eddie Schoenfeld, my guru for all things Chinese, and his wife were game to return, and friends who’d read my original blog jumped at the chance.

Except for the sublime shrimp and watercress dumpling in broth from our last visit that I couldn’t deny them, Eddie and I agree to order dishes we hadn’t yet tasted. As before, there are major thrills. Seafood treasure pouch wrapped in rice paper and white fungus with broth poured from a tea pot at the table strikes me as a roller coaster of texture. I love the gumminess of sticky rice and chestnut shui mei. Everyone around the table is won over by bits of vegetable in a thin tofu skin dumpling shaped like a hockey puck. And I like the fatty crisp-honey glazed pork fried in a bread crumb crust, though one slice is enough.

But pan-searing does not really improve a seafood dumpling. And lopcheongs in a blanket – bits of wonderful cured pork sausage and duck liver sausage – get lost in too thick, too sweet scallion-and-white-bread wrap. Curry chicken in a bread bowl is cute, but boring, and neither of our noodle dishes is memorable. A definite plus is the bill. Since none of us have ordered $5 mocktails as our group did last time – the tab is $20 a person, tip included. (Cash only, by the way.)

Still, I am shocked that none of the first timers are impressed enough to come back. "Fabulous evening. I love a few things," says Naomi, "but not enough to send anyone." The others agree. I am so upset. Is this another case where eating with no preconceived notion is better than responding to a rave? Did I overstate the case on my website?
I still think I’d send you to Sweet and Tart, especially if you’re curious to see what the avant garde is eating in Hong Kong, Taiwan, Shanghai and Tokyo. Check out last week’s BITE. Take notes. Order only what I loved.

One look at the beautiful young sylphs and jut-jawed traders at Delicatessen and I knew it wasn’t really meant for grownups like me. But I loved that the buds tending the door acted as if we belonged. Fabulous Reuben fritters, marvelous fried chicken in a bucket, even the smothered meatloaf might actually bring us back. "What do you think?" I asked my guy last week. "Let’s go," he said. Well, if you’re a regular reader, you know I’m a fool for comfort food. For more specifics, click here.

If you contemplate our town’s piggish crush on pig, or the compelling reign of steak on our plates, you’ll think there couldn’t be a better time for Jennifer McLagan’s love letter to Fat: An Appreciation of a Misunderstood Ingredient, With Recipes (Ten Speed Press). I try to imagine the in-house debate that put raw untrimmed lamb chops on the cover instead of, say, brown butter ice cream or even cooked lamb chops. Of course, they couldn’t use the photograph of spicy pork cracklings or duck fat biscuits. Too scary.

Fear of fat, even the fear of being fat, may fade if we can only adopt the serenity with which McLagan confronts fat and how to cook it. Is it possible we would be a nation of fewer plumpies if we ate more lamb chops and less macaroni and cheese? If only we could all afford lamb chops. I’ve not tried a recipe yet, though I’m intrigued by bacon mayonnaise, less so by crackling brittle. Still, there’s a strong message here: "Fat is indispensable and delicious. We should celebrate it, cook with it, eat it, and enjoy it without guilt." I’m working this out with my trainer. Click here to buy Fat now.

www.insatiable-critic.com

Used by permission from Gael Greene copyright 2008.

Steven Richter photo copyright 2008