Best UES Halloween Decorations!

Walking around the Upper East Side this week has been entertaining and at times frightening, since lots of local businesses have decorated for this crazy holiday. It seems that, at every turn, ghouls are lurking, witches are cackling and jack-o-lanterns are baring their fangs. Lucifer is patiently waiting while good old Frankenstein is doing his thing. And skeletons? They apparently have no shame.

I feel compelled to share my ten favorites here. So without further delay, I present The 2008 Halloween Inform-Awards!

The Creepiest: The Mansion Diner at 86th and York. Yikes! Hooded goblins of all colors and creeds dangle menacingly from the fire escapes of this whole facade. Inside, there’s a witch’s head trapped in a globe on the counter and a gigantic skull peering out from a brick wall.



The Girliest: Let’s Dress Up! on 85th between 1st and 2nd. Fittingly, this window is pretty in pink…and orange. Here, the pumpkin sparkles and the haunted house is more inviting than terrifying. It makes you wonder why everybody has to be so morbid this time of year.


Most Caffeinated: Beanocchio’s on York between 75th and 76th. This whole place is decked out for the holiday: even the tree outside is decorated and the teddy bears wear masks. But make your way to the back of this café to meet a mean, green caffeine machine. He’s warty, and bug-eyed and he’s sipping from his own cardboard cup-a-joe, Beanocchio’s style. He’s an original creation of one of the regulars and he’s so ugly he’s cute. (And, dreamy sigh, we share the same addiction…)

Most Country-Spun: Butterfield Market on Lexington between 77th and 78th. If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was located on an old, country road in the wilds of Connecticut. In these parts, a few bales of hay go a long way.


Best Jack-o-Lanterns: Windsor Florist at 78th and Lexington. Let’s just say my jack-o-lanterns never look quite this perfect. Though I suspect that some stencils were involved in this project, I approve. The way they were lined up amid all that fall flora, I was forced to cross the street to more closely appreciate.

Most Inebriated: Ryan’s Daughter on 85th between 1st and 2nd. A witch seems to have crashed into the “top shelf” and passed out. Scarecrows are body-boarding along the ceiling. And a rather “animated” (and legless?) fellow they call Stanley seems to think he can rap. Enough said.


Most Tasteful Use of Faux Cobwebs: 86th Street Wines and Liquors on 86th between 1st and 2nd. Let’s face it, that stringy cotton rarely looks like actual cobwebs. I’ve never personally played with the stuff, but there seems to be a right way and wrong way and somebody here is obviously a master.



The Kiddie-est: Pintailes Pizza on York between 83rd and 84th. Nothing says “children” like an indoor graveyard.








Best Exterior: Eli’s Manhattan at 3rd and 80th. In this window nook, Chef Frankenstein and Chef Dracula get cozy amid a pile of pumpkins: nothing, not even that hunk of hay can keep them apart. See that gigantic pumpkin in the foreground? It’s bigger than my apartment. Nearby, another chef manages to keep watch over the pumpkin patch, even though he has no head.

Best Use of Costumes, Best Interior, and Best Overall: Maz Mezcal Mexican Restaurant on 86th between 1st and 2nd. They’ve been doin’ it up at Halloween for over 20 years and their experience certainly shows. When I passed by, costume-clad employees (and an inflated Whinnie –the-Pooh dressed as Dracula) were greeting customers on the street. Apparently, they always have a costume party on the Sunday before Halloween and on Halloween itself. In fact, I ventured in and discovered that, not only was everybody dressed up, but I was hard pressed to find an inch of the place that was not decorated. It was all there: pumpkins, goblins, cobwebs, bats, and, of course, a bodiless hand boogie-ing right on the bar.

Le Pain Quotidien: Je t'adore

Oh Le Pain Quotidien, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways…

Even though you are chain, you manage to make the experience in your bakeries unique, thanks to 1) your quaint, farm-housey atmosphere, 2) your creative, high-quality food, and 3) your commitment to organic products, sustainable farming, and recycled goods.

One of the many reasons I (and many others) moved to New York was to escape the corporate sprawl and live in a place where there are still businesses owned and operated by individuals, where meals don’t feel factory-produced and stores aren’t maintained by robots programmed at headquarters. And it certainly isn’t difficult to find lots of thriving independent businesses here on the Upper East.

But let’s face it, this is the way of the world, and there are a few good chains. Le Pain Quotidien, or LPQ, as I have affectionately come to think of it, is one of these. It was first opened in Brussels in the late 80’s by chef Alain Coumont. He is quoted as explaining that, “The idea behind ‘Le Pain Quotidien’ is simply to make a handmade bread with a good crust and a firm slice, the kind of bread that makes great tartines; bread not only to nourish the body, but the spirit as well; a bread best shared around a table, to be savored among friends.”

Now, there are LPQ’s all over the world, in places as far-flung as Australia, Russia, Qatar and Istanbul. In a addition to several U.S. locations in California and the Washington D.C. area, there are over 15 locations in New York City, four of which are fortunately right here on the Upper East Side: 1st at 68th, Lexington at 64th, 77th at 2nd Avenue and Madison at 84th. I have now been to three of these and often frequent the ones on 77th and the one on 1st. (This latter store, spacious and beautiful, is a few blocks south of a previous location, which, to my horror, was bulldozed a few years ago to make way for another luxury condo.)

One of the first things you’ll notice when you walk into an LPQ is an extra-long, wooden communal table. These are composed of refurbished wood from old trains. Though there are also separate tables, this is really the heart of the experience: sidling up alongside others – whether families or individuals reading the paper – and asking them to pass the salt, or some menus (which are composed of 100% recycled paper and cleverly propped up in hunks of bread), or striking up conversations. Okay, and yes, this scenario also provides ample opportunities for eavesdropping, not that I’m into that kind of thing…but, if you meet up there with your girlfriends from college, you may want to think twice before uttering anything top secret and of international import…or just speak in code. But this is true pretty much anywhere in NY, so-called communal tables or not, right?

With these long tables, the exposed brick, the purposely battered walls, and warm track lighting, you kind of feel as if you’re in a modern farm kitchen, perhaps in Belgium or possibly Provence. Some of the locations even have fireplaces and old tractor seats as wall decorations. Since these places are usually well-peopled, there’s often a lively din of conversation and, underneath that, the pleasant notes of classical music. This is a great place to bring your mother (as I have done, a few times now), or your kids (since they can spread out at the big table), or to bring your new beau (and pretend you’re already on that long-weekend jaunt in Europe.)

This brings me to the food, much of which is organic, some of which is vegan, and all of which (that I’ve sampled, and that now adds up to a lot), is delicious. Indeed, the bread is wonderful and pairs well with the selections of spreads provided in little caddies. Usually, this includes fruit jellies, something called Noisella (a Belgian chocolate and hazelnut spread very similar to Nutella), and, if the stars are aligned the day you go, this caddy will also include a spread called Brunette, a hazelnut praline spread that is not to be believed. Waitstaffer Martina Fourcad, of the 77th Street location, laughed as she told me that, “Everybody loves this. Once you try it, you really can’t stop.” And she is right. Consider yourself warned.

The croissants are excellent. The Quiche Lorraine and the Quiche Vegetarienne (highly recommended) are ample and fluffy. These come with greens on the side. In the mornings, many can be seen dipping their triangles of bread into the brilliant yolks of organic soft-boiled eggs, but as Jenell Cruickshank, manager of the 77th street location confirmed for me, they stop serving these in the afternoon, so arrive early if you want these. The Homemade Organic Granola is hearty with a hint of coconut.

For lunch, the salads are mounded and nicely appointed. I have enjoyed both the Goat Cheese and Arugula Salad, with parmesan, pine nuts, and lemon, and also the Grilled Chicken Cobb Salad – this comes with avocado, bacon, fourme d’ambert and a vinaigrette infused with lapsang souchong tea. I haven’t tried it yet, but I’ve noted that the Quinoa Salad with Enoki mushrooms and alfalfa spouts comes out of the kitchen looking delightfully alien, the skinny mushrooms like an outcropping of antennae atop a little hill of grains.

But most people lunching at LPQ seem to order the tartines, open-faced sandwiches served on what are almost like ceramic cheeseboards or painters’ palettes, complete with the thumbhole. Though there many different kinds to choose from, I am personally smitten with the Chicken curry salad with cranberry chutney, the Atlantic smoked salmon with dill and scallions, and the Grilled chicken and smoked mozzarella with pesto. I am intrigued by many other offerings, such as the Ricotta with mission fig, honey and black pepper and the Aged guyere with three mustards.

Save room because the gorgeous desserts displayed up front do not disappoint. In fact, the round Belgian Brownie is both crispy and moist in all the right places. The chocolate chip cookie is the size of a pancake and has a good crunch to it. There are all kinds of tarts and cakes (both miniature or full-sized) to devour while there or in the privacy of your apartment.

On a related note, I must mention the lattes, which manage to be both smooth and frothy even when you order them with skim or soy, my usual tendency. And all coffees are served in handle-less cups that seem more like little bowls. So clutch your coffee in both hands, warm your fingers and your soul, and be glad these farmhouse kitchens are speckled throughout our fine neighborhood. Oh, and can you pass that hazelnut praline spread? Merci.

A Brunch Deferred

I’m not exactly sure what happened; I had our Sunday planned out so perfectly. My friend and I picked my mother up from Penn Station at 11:15 and we drove back over to Merchants on the Upper East Side at First Avenue at 62nd, which opens for Jazz Brunch on Sundays at 11:30. I have been meaning to check this out for a while now: I enjoy live jazz in just about any scenario, and there’s just something about how it combines with eggs and coffee. Stir in some good convo, and this to me is the essence of living in the city.

But when we arrived, there was no live music, not even a band in sight. Evidently, the music doesn’t start until 1 pm, so I either didn’t read the fine print (quite possible), or there wasn’t any fine print specifying this. Our coffee had already been poured, so we decided to just draw the meal out as long as possible in order to catch at least a little of the entertainment. You know, the we’re-not-ready-to-order-but-sure-we’ll-have-more-coffee stall tactic, even though the three of us immediately made our choices and had more than enough time to memorize the whole menu.

Fortunately, we were consoled by a “trio” of orange and cinnamon muffins. And we didn’t feel guilty about occupying a table for too long: apparently, everyone else had gotten the memo that this party wasn’t starting for a while.

It’s funny to non-New Yorkers like my mom, in from Delaware for a few days, how late people go out for eggs on the weekends. We tried to explain to her that, after “gallivanting” (her word) all night, many of us don’t want to (or can’t) roll out of bed until noon, at the earliest. Speaking of which, I’d formerly been to Merchants for drinks upstairs where I remember having a potent chocolate martini. And a few times, with friends, I’ve coughed my way through the cigar bar downstairs, which is what Merchants is mostly known for.

Eventually, though it was still only 12:20, we buckled. I ordered the Spinach Omelet with grilled chicken and swiss and my mother ordered the Goat Cheese Omelet with asparagus and wild mushrooms. They arrived very quickly – of course just this once we would have welcomed slow service. She and I cut our orders in half and shared; we both ended up liking the goat cheese selection better and found that the omelet innards outshone the eggs themselves. The skillet potatoes on the side were great and included another trio – this time of yellow, red, and green peppers. Not my thing, but I’m sure many others appreciate this colorful combo.

My friend enjoyed the Huevos Rancheros. From where I sat, it looked like an island of eggs in a sea of tortilla chips. For the table, he ordered the Dulce de Leche French Toast, which came with a heap of berries, a dollop of whipped cream, and a drizzle of caramel. This decadence put into practice my long-held (yet admittedly hazardous) theory that every meal deserves dessert. This menu also offers a nice selection of sandwiches and salads.

As our plates were cleared away, we noticed that the tables were filling and the band was finally setting up over by the bar…a trio. Though, by now, my coffee jitters were reaching seizure-like proportions, and my mother tisked tisked at me judgmentally (she quit the stuff in June), I accepted yet another refill. And then, there it was, in the distance: the sound we’d come for and the reason we’d waited. Loud enough to hear, but not pervasive, a perfect city backdrop.

Merchants on the Upper East has been hosting Jazz Brunch for nearly three years now from 1-4 pm. They also have live jazz on Tuesday and Wednesday nights from 8-11:30. They have a rotation of about three different groups coming through, each of them specializing in classic jazz.

So we got to hear two songs before our trio was scheduled to head downtown to coo and cuddle with the new baby of some friends before heading to a dinner party in the Bronx.

I walked out of there wistfully, wishing the timing had worked out better. But I’ll be back again. If you go to jazz brunch at Merchants, and you want to hear the music (which I very much recommend) just make sure you party all night beforehand, then arrive for the late shift.

Cambodian Cuisine

Before last week, I didn’t know anything about Cambodian food. Now, I know a few things. First, that it’s delicious. Second, that it has some similarities to Thai and Vietnamese cuisines, including the use of ginger, lemon grass, and coconut, among other ingredients. Third, I learned that there are only two Cambodian restaurants in the city and we are lucky to now have one of them right here on the Upper East: Cambodian Cuisine on 3rd Avenue between 93rd and 94th. This is the beauty of living here…you can travel the world (or at least your taste buds can) without ever packing a bag.

This restaurant used to be located in Fort Greene, Brooklyn near the Brooklyn Academy of Music. Chef Jerry Ley decided to relocate to Manhattan since this is where many of his customers were coming from. Unfortunately, this relocation process took almost three years, due to all kinds of permit and coding glitches associated with the new space. But as of this summer, the kitchen is open and people all over the city are starting to take notice. Cambodian Cuisine was featured in The New York Times a few weeks ago and given a favorable review.

Last Friday, I was meeting up with two friends who had often gone to the Fort Greene location before seeing performances at BAM. One of these friends, who is a bit of a foodie and a sommelier, now spends most of her year living in Italy. In the time she’s been back in New York this summer, she’s already been to Cambodian Cuisine twice. This time, she brought a copy of the NY Times article so that she could branch out and try some of the reviewer’s suggestions.

So spread out on our table, we had the extensive menu which we cross-referenced with the NY Times article and also checked against the “photo menu” they wisely provided to help us with our decisions. The only problem was that the pictures of all the selections were enticing.

Of course, also on our table, was my notebook into which I was quickly jotting notes-to-self, such as, What is galangal? (A root in the ginger family usually used in a powdered form and tasting slightly of citrus. Oh yes, and it is also thought to be an aphrodisiac. Thanks Wikipedia.) I also scribbled down, Tree Ear? (Edible fungus that grows on…you got it, trees, with an undeniable resemblance to the human ear.) And: Music sounds a little bit like bagpipes. (Traditional Khmer wedding music played with a violin-type instrument, an example of which was hanging on the wall behind our table.)

At my friends’ suggestion, we decided on the Hot and Spicy Ground Beef Appetizer, and in case that was too hot for me (it was) we also ordered a Naem Chao, a cold Cambodian spring roll served with peanut sauce.

Then, prompted by the trusty newspaper article, we tried the Prahok Ktis Dip, a “house favorite” of ground chicken combined with good old galangal, red chili, fish paste, and coconut milk served with a plate of fresh vegetables for dipping. (Pictured, right.)

I wanted to try the Mee Bampohng with shrimp, since I’d seen a woman eating it at the bar while I was waiting for my friends to arrive. She told me it was great and I ended up agreeing. This is a dish of crispy noodles, peanuts, and bean sprouts, somewhat similar to Pad Thai, yet red in color, sweeter, and with a chewier consistency.

We also got the Chicken Ahmok, a dish that can be most rudimentarily described as a chicken pancake with coconut butter (pictured left), except that it looked far more beautiful than that sounds, with a slice of red pepper latticed on top like a flower. This has lemon grass in it and is served on a bed of collard greens. We found this flat piece of chicken to be incredibly tender – dare I say succulent? It was unlike anything I’d tasted before.

We were too full to try the jackfruit dessert or the coconut rice pudding, so they’re on the list for next time.

Everything we ate was excellent and the service was attentive, but the Chicken Ahmok is why I’ll go back and why I suggest you go there as well. Chef Ley has had to cut through years of red tape in order to get his new Cambodian Cuisine open. Now that he can instead focus on chopping vegetables and herbs, it’s clear that this restaurant is going to flourish.