If you're trying to convince friends from Brooklyn to move to Astoria, you would probably want to take them to Il Bambino. It's as unmistakable a sign of gentrification as you could possibly want. On a quiet, well-shaded block, it sits near a bevy of the sorts of places young bourgeois urbanites like: a vintage store, a tea shop, a wine bar, authentic-seeming upscalish ethnic restaurants and the like. Every time we've stopped there for lunch, there are white couples with babies. And its menu is made up of mainly panini, featuring a host of foodie-friendly ingredients: truffle oil, prosciutto di parma, baby arugula, sweet onion marmalade, that sort of thing. And it's delicious, too.
Despite being relatively new to the neighborhood, Il Bambino has cultivated a rustic gentility; thanks to the old furniture and somewhat rickety two-tops in the dining area, it has a faux antique feel. Painted on the wall across from the dessert case up front (Il Bambino is known for its cupcakes as well as its panini) is a giant cross-section of a pig with the cuts of meat annotated in Italian, as if the restaurant were a converted old-time butcher shop. (It's actually the old location of Martha's Country Bakery, now on Ditmars. Clearly the spot has cupcake mojo.)
We can't point to anything on the menu as being particularly outstanding, because it's all been good. The crostini take more culinary risks than the oversized panini, but with excellent results (we particularly like the crostini with truffle egg salad), and any of the panini are sure to please -- pick what you like and trust that it'll be made right. The aforementioned cupcakes are also tasty, but are so enormous as to appear clownish. Nobody really needs a cupcake with a whole Oreo on top -- but if you want it, they've got it.
Part of us wants to protest the Brooklynification of Astoria and make a principle of scorning such places at Il Bambino. But using Il Bambino as an example would make us mere curmudgeons instead of armchair watchdogs of there-goes-the-neighborhood (especially when there are restaurants listing the sound designer in the entryway, though that's less Brooklynification than just plain weird). If we can have restaurants like this nearby without the high rents or the douchey hipsters, then we are benefiting on all fronts.
Price: Extremely affordable given the consistent quality
Will we go again: Absolutely. But it seems an afternoon sort of place, though they do now have alcohol
Showing posts with label 34th street. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 34th street. Show all posts
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
The Thai Life (Zabb Thai; 34-11 30th Avenue)
In Michelin's 2008 guide to New York City, you will find an entry for Zabb Queens -- a restaurant with "fantastic Thai food," a place known for "showcasing the cuisine of the Isaan region." You should not make the mistake of confusing that restaurant, which is in Jackson Heights, with Zabb Thai, a garden-variety Thai joint that has taken up residence in the former home of Thai Angel and may in fact still be Thai Angel, only renamed to seize upon the other Zabb's notoriety.
Maybe it's a snobbery born of having truly outstanding Thai restaurants nearby in Woodside and Jackson Heights that leaves us underwhlemed with the likes of Zabb Thai. Zabb Thai's success, such as it is, seems to have less to do with the food it serves but with its tasteful decor. It's dimly lit but not so dark that you need a flashlight for the menu. A leather banquette runs along one wall, and in back is a well-stuffed leather couch (purpose: unknown). There are bas reliefs of elephant-headed, multilimbed gods on gray, stucco walls, and one wall of exposed, faux-unfinished stonework. Also, toward the hostess stand in the back, are several shelves of flowers in jars full of lava-lamp goo illuminated with blue-, green- and red-colored lights. As arbitrary as that is for ornament, it looks less weird that it probably sounds. On the night we visited the music seemed a bit incongruous -- loud teen pop that made it difficult to talk. It seemed more appropriate for Charlotte Russe than a restaurant. But on the whole, judging from surface appearances alone, we could convince ourselves we weren't doing something mediocre by eating there.
As a consequence, Zabb Thai seems reasonably busy most nights, which grans diners an additional level of self-protection: You'll never go in there and be spooked by being the only customer. You won't have to ask youselves: What's wrong with us that we're eating here?
The food, however, was not memorable. A tofu-taro appetizer was hot and pleasingly greasy, but no particular flavor broke through. We felt we had to order the Pad Prik Sod because it was listed on the menu twice.
We figured that meant they really wanted us to order it, but it turned out to be a bit underwhelming. As you can see below, there's just not much excitement to it: just big pieces of onion and pepper.
Our other entree, tentatively recommended by our very reluctant waitress, was fried chicken nuggets in what was supposed to be a spicy sauce.
It turned out that this was hardly spicy at all, but seemed instead vaguely dumbed down for less adventuresome palates.
But then, Zabb Thai is not about adventure. It's instead catering to a certain New York City lifestyle that involves eating out almost every night and requires that there be ethnic restaurants with vaguely chic decor that are nonetheless convenient, familiar, and affordable. We, however, like Thai food enough to avoid making it a lifestyle accoutrement.
Price: As you can see in the menu picture above, it's reasonable.
Will we go again: Not with Sri Pra Phai nearby.
Maybe it's a snobbery born of having truly outstanding Thai restaurants nearby in Woodside and Jackson Heights that leaves us underwhlemed with the likes of Zabb Thai. Zabb Thai's success, such as it is, seems to have less to do with the food it serves but with its tasteful decor. It's dimly lit but not so dark that you need a flashlight for the menu. A leather banquette runs along one wall, and in back is a well-stuffed leather couch (purpose: unknown). There are bas reliefs of elephant-headed, multilimbed gods on gray, stucco walls, and one wall of exposed, faux-unfinished stonework. Also, toward the hostess stand in the back, are several shelves of flowers in jars full of lava-lamp goo illuminated with blue-, green- and red-colored lights. As arbitrary as that is for ornament, it looks less weird that it probably sounds. On the night we visited the music seemed a bit incongruous -- loud teen pop that made it difficult to talk. It seemed more appropriate for Charlotte Russe than a restaurant. But on the whole, judging from surface appearances alone, we could convince ourselves we weren't doing something mediocre by eating there.
As a consequence, Zabb Thai seems reasonably busy most nights, which grans diners an additional level of self-protection: You'll never go in there and be spooked by being the only customer. You won't have to ask youselves: What's wrong with us that we're eating here?
The food, however, was not memorable. A tofu-taro appetizer was hot and pleasingly greasy, but no particular flavor broke through. We felt we had to order the Pad Prik Sod because it was listed on the menu twice.
We figured that meant they really wanted us to order it, but it turned out to be a bit underwhelming. As you can see below, there's just not much excitement to it: just big pieces of onion and pepper.
Our other entree, tentatively recommended by our very reluctant waitress, was fried chicken nuggets in what was supposed to be a spicy sauce.
It turned out that this was hardly spicy at all, but seemed instead vaguely dumbed down for less adventuresome palates.
But then, Zabb Thai is not about adventure. It's instead catering to a certain New York City lifestyle that involves eating out almost every night and requires that there be ethnic restaurants with vaguely chic decor that are nonetheless convenient, familiar, and affordable. We, however, like Thai food enough to avoid making it a lifestyle accoutrement.
Price: As you can see in the menu picture above, it's reasonable.
Will we go again: Not with Sri Pra Phai nearby.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Family Style (Zenon Taverna; 34-10 31st Avenue)
The menu at Zenon, a homey Cypriot place waitstaffed by the owners' daughters with homespun folk-artish frescos on the walls, is loaded with tapas-style appetizers, so we held off eating here until we could coax some Guest Diners into joining us for mezedes. Each person pays $19, and then waves of small dishes are brought out. There are three combo options: the Cyprus meal, the fish meal, and surprisingly enough, the vegetarian meal. Zenon is probably the only taverna in Astoria that's thinking about that demographic, though they haven't entirely figured it out -- the vegetarian meal includes fish.
We ordered some wine (all the selections are Greek; we had retsina) and deliberated over our options. Thankfully, our waitress cooperatively permitted us to go with a combination of the Cyprus and vegetarian meals. Then the food came out in waves. First they came with the cold appetizers -- mostly dips for the grilled pita: tzatziki, scordalia, tahini. There was also beet salad, a seafood salad, potato salad, and a Cyprus salad (basically a Greek salad with feta and olives). All of these were solid if unremarkable; what was notable was the sheer quantity and variety of food on the table. There wasn't room for it all, and the meal quickly became a delicate dance of plate passing and polite requests.
With all that food out, it was easy to forget that a second wave was coming. These were the hot dishes: calamari, grilled halloumi, two kinds of meatballs (keftedes and sheftalia), some sausages, and quail. This was all delicious stuff, but we did not pace ourselves well and were mostly too full to really enjoy it. We started to feel a little sheepish about how much we would probably leave behind, though we felt comfortable enough at our table to tarry until we finished most of it.
Our multiple but infrequent visits to Zenon always find us saying that we should order more casual meals from them -- drop in for a gyro or souvlaki. Somehow, though, we never do. The meats are all prepared well enough for us to trust that a gyro would be worthwhile, but there's something about the rustic, cozy atmosphere atmosphere that makes us feel like we're doing the whole idea of Zenon wrong by stopping by for a to-go bag. The wooden beams hold a sort of energy that Aliada, the nearest Cypriot competitor, might mimic now but won't be able to achieve for another twenty years or so. They invite you to linger, eat more food than you maybe want, drink more retsina out of a ceramic pitcher. They invite you to stay.
Price: Entrees $13-$20; mezedes, $19 per person.
Will we go again? We say we should go more often but will probably only follow through on special occasions.
We ordered some wine (all the selections are Greek; we had retsina) and deliberated over our options. Thankfully, our waitress cooperatively permitted us to go with a combination of the Cyprus and vegetarian meals. Then the food came out in waves. First they came with the cold appetizers -- mostly dips for the grilled pita: tzatziki, scordalia, tahini. There was also beet salad, a seafood salad, potato salad, and a Cyprus salad (basically a Greek salad with feta and olives). All of these were solid if unremarkable; what was notable was the sheer quantity and variety of food on the table. There wasn't room for it all, and the meal quickly became a delicate dance of plate passing and polite requests.
With all that food out, it was easy to forget that a second wave was coming. These were the hot dishes: calamari, grilled halloumi, two kinds of meatballs (keftedes and sheftalia), some sausages, and quail. This was all delicious stuff, but we did not pace ourselves well and were mostly too full to really enjoy it. We started to feel a little sheepish about how much we would probably leave behind, though we felt comfortable enough at our table to tarry until we finished most of it.
Our multiple but infrequent visits to Zenon always find us saying that we should order more casual meals from them -- drop in for a gyro or souvlaki. Somehow, though, we never do. The meats are all prepared well enough for us to trust that a gyro would be worthwhile, but there's something about the rustic, cozy atmosphere atmosphere that makes us feel like we're doing the whole idea of Zenon wrong by stopping by for a to-go bag. The wooden beams hold a sort of energy that Aliada, the nearest Cypriot competitor, might mimic now but won't be able to achieve for another twenty years or so. They invite you to linger, eat more food than you maybe want, drink more retsina out of a ceramic pitcher. They invite you to stay.
Price: Entrees $13-$20; mezedes, $19 per person.
Will we go again? We say we should go more often but will probably only follow through on special occasions.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Dry-Erase Dining (Akti, 34-19 30th Avenue)
Astoria has many Greek seafood restaurants, and it can be hard to keep them straight. We're a bit overwhelmed by them, actually, and have been dragging our heels on trying them. How do you pick one when there are so many? Before we ate at Akti, which opened in March, we knew it as the one with a waterfall sculpture -- a thin plate of illuminated glass with water coursing through it -- positioned prominently in the front. At night, when the restaurant is closed, there is something melancholy about the waterfall; turned off, with the unlit water puddled at the bottom, the sculpture becomes just a window without a wall, a porthole onto nothingness.
Inside Akti there were more aesthetic touches -- some nautically themed objects decorated the walls, like captain's wheel and what looked like a stunted oar, as well as a stucco rectangle with a neon glow hanging up behind the bar. The architectural detail, too, demands comment. The roof is paneled with bamboo stalks and the pilasters look as if they are barnacled with small white stones. The sum effect of all these niceties is hard to articulate; the atmosphere seems vaguely elegant and distinctive though you might be embarrassed to admit you felt that way.
The most peculiar thing about Akti is its procedure for ordering. Each table receives one menu (what is it with Greek restaurants and menus? Elias Corner won't even deign to give you one) and then each diner marks what they want directly on it with a dry-erase marker. Inevitably, this leads to some discussion of sharing items and requires coming to an explicit consensus. It makes the negotiations of any meal much more definitive, which may or may not be a benefit, depending on how effective you are at getting to yes. Sipping wine and munching down grilled pita slices, we managed to to come to terms with each other.
Our waiter thoughtfully gave us advice about how much to order -- one entree and a few appetizers for both of us -- and we took his advice and got grilled swordfish, a beet salad, and a delicious grilled haloumi appetizer (a mellow cheese grilled and placed on a tomato slice and pita). Everything tasted good. The beets were earthy and the fish was fishy, etc., but nothing struck as absolutely outstanding. What was better than ordinary was the attentive and unpretentious service, which was far more down to earth than the decor would lead you to expect. Everyone seemed at ease with what they were doing. A man who seemed to be the owner came by our table several times with encouraging comments, and it never felt uncomfortable or intrusive. When we were finished, the bartender brought out slices of watermelon for dessert.
When we were through at Akti, we left wondering why we are so resistant to try such places. The experience was effortlessly pleasant, enough to make you forget the elaborate effort that went into the design. The next time we pass the sad waterfall, it will probably seem less a symbol of Akti's trying to hard and more like the corny indulgence of friend whose vainly searching for a dignified way to express his effusiveness.
Price: If you order as you should -- appetizers, shared entree, wine -- it's about $100 per couple. That's on par with the other Greek restaurants nearby, and worth it.
Will we go again? We would if there weren't so many others of its type that we need to try.
Inside Akti there were more aesthetic touches -- some nautically themed objects decorated the walls, like captain's wheel and what looked like a stunted oar, as well as a stucco rectangle with a neon glow hanging up behind the bar. The architectural detail, too, demands comment. The roof is paneled with bamboo stalks and the pilasters look as if they are barnacled with small white stones. The sum effect of all these niceties is hard to articulate; the atmosphere seems vaguely elegant and distinctive though you might be embarrassed to admit you felt that way.
The most peculiar thing about Akti is its procedure for ordering. Each table receives one menu (what is it with Greek restaurants and menus? Elias Corner won't even deign to give you one) and then each diner marks what they want directly on it with a dry-erase marker. Inevitably, this leads to some discussion of sharing items and requires coming to an explicit consensus. It makes the negotiations of any meal much more definitive, which may or may not be a benefit, depending on how effective you are at getting to yes. Sipping wine and munching down grilled pita slices, we managed to to come to terms with each other.
Our waiter thoughtfully gave us advice about how much to order -- one entree and a few appetizers for both of us -- and we took his advice and got grilled swordfish, a beet salad, and a delicious grilled haloumi appetizer (a mellow cheese grilled and placed on a tomato slice and pita). Everything tasted good. The beets were earthy and the fish was fishy, etc., but nothing struck as absolutely outstanding. What was better than ordinary was the attentive and unpretentious service, which was far more down to earth than the decor would lead you to expect. Everyone seemed at ease with what they were doing. A man who seemed to be the owner came by our table several times with encouraging comments, and it never felt uncomfortable or intrusive. When we were finished, the bartender brought out slices of watermelon for dessert.
When we were through at Akti, we left wondering why we are so resistant to try such places. The experience was effortlessly pleasant, enough to make you forget the elaborate effort that went into the design. The next time we pass the sad waterfall, it will probably seem less a symbol of Akti's trying to hard and more like the corny indulgence of friend whose vainly searching for a dignified way to express his effusiveness.
Price: If you order as you should -- appetizers, shared entree, wine -- it's about $100 per couple. That's on par with the other Greek restaurants nearby, and worth it.
Will we go again? We would if there weren't so many others of its type that we need to try.
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