foodstuffs

Seafood and Beer - A Perfect Summer Combination

In the summertime, I crave seafood. All the time. This past warm Friday was no exception, and with the lure of Coney Island's Friday night fireworks display (another summer institution), I convinced Bca to board the F Train with me. Instead of fried "clams strips" on the famed Coney boardwalk, we were headed to Gambrinus, located at the border of where Coney Island becomes Brighton Beach.

Gambrinus was a recommendation from a former co-worker, himself a native of Russia and a resident of Brighton Beach. "Good beers, good fresh seafood," he said. "You will like it -- check it out." I had walked by it several times on my adventures in Brighton Beach, but I had never wandered in. Friday was the perfect time to check it out.

When we walked in, Bca and I were greeted by brusque teenage waiters dressed in sailor costumes, who pointed us blithely to the spacious patio, which faces the butt end of Ocean Parkway. The restaurant itself is located about a block from the boardwalk, and trumpets its proximity to the sea with nautical decorations. The patio is draped in fisherman's nets, christmas lights and beer paraphenalia, creating an informal atmosphere. On Friday, the patio was about 1/3 full of groups, consisting mostly of locals feasting on shared platters of smoked fish or lobsters.
Since we were indeed there for the beer and seafood, we wasted no time placing an order for fried calamari and a 1/2 litre mug each of Weihenstephaner ($5), which our waiter assured us was a wheat beer. It is worth noting that Gambrinus also offers 1 litre beers for $9.

The beers were cold and hearty. I could barely finish mine. The calamari ($10) arrived, and its portion size was shockingly large -- it could have fed five. The batter was a bit mundane -- no fancy spicing in this coating -- but it betrayed no time spent frying in old oil. The calamari itself was noticeably fresh -- chewy, pliant, and crisp. The accompanying sauce was your standard-issue marinara sauce, which was unremarkable but serviceable. Bca and I made a dent, but did not come close to finishing this dish.

For our main courses, we had both gone straight for the fish. Bca orderd the broiled red snapper ($14.50), which is also available pan-fried, and I opted for the broiled sea bass ($22). Glancing up from our calamari consumption, we saw the waiter struggling to deliver our orders, each of which arrived displayed on an enormous 16" serving platter. Each fish was accompanied by a small pitcher of a creamy sauce, and two sizeable dollops of garlicky mashed potatoes, cradling a pool of olive oil and tufted like a turret. My fish, served boneless, also received a side of a sweet, tomato-based ratatoiulle-esque mix of squash, carrots and onions, while Bca's, which was served with the bones, had a side of sweet cabbage.

My fish was perfectly cooked, and flaked off in moist white chunks. The top was also pan-fried, resulting in a delicate, oily crunch. I used only about half of my cream sauce atop the fish -- it seemed to add silky texture but not much flavor. The vegetables were sweet and appreciably not over-cooked. They provided a nice un-oily contrast to the fish and potatoes.

Despite the serving size, Bca and I did admirable jobs finishing our meals, with yours truly coming quite close to cleaning hers. I was absolutely stuffed and turned aside with ease thoughts of ordering a hot fudge sundae, which were being ordered by all the surrounding patrons. Given the quality of the seafood, Gambrinus struck me as a bargain with a relaxed, chill environment. I could imagine many a summer evening spent here by the ocean with friends. Bca thought as much too.

It should be noted that Gambrinus is a Russian restuarant -- the menu is printed in both English and Russian, and features a number of Russian dishes including various smoked fishes and borscht. I'd be game to tackle those on another trip. I definitely plan to come back before I leave for China.

We peeked inside the main dining room, where the nautical theme had been taken to a new level. Every inch the main dining room is paneled with laquered wood, like the inside of a ship. We paused to pose with life-size wooden pirate at the entrance before departing in to the warm summer night for Coney's boardwalk.

GAMBRINUS
3100 Ocean Parkway@ W. Brighton Avenue
718-265-1009
F to W.8th Street, Brooklyn

Turducken Revisited

Instead of going out to eat on Saturday, Mickey Rooney and I checked out a comedy show at Rose's Turn in the West Village. The show, Armed and Ridiculous, was put on by Mark and John, two guys that Mickey knows through his friend from home. It was VERY funny sketch comedy.

One of the sketches centered on meat combinations, one of which I think deserves particular mention here. That is the Turducken. What is a Turducken? A Turducken is a masterful creation of a turkey stuffed with a duck stuffed with a chicken. According to Food Reference, a Turducken is "...a Cajun specialty from the south central part of Louisiana, contains three boned birds and three stuffings: a 20-25 pound turkey stuffed with a 4-5 pound duckling, stuffed with a 3-4 pound chicken with three cups oyster dressing inside the chicken, 7 cups andouille dressing between the chicken and the duck and 4 cups cornbread dressing between the duck and the turkey. Other typical dressings include shrimp or sausage."
Learn more.

This may sound revolting to some, but it is actually quite delicious. I had the privilege of tasting one courtesy of Mark and John themselves last Christmas.

Here's the multi-meat creation, fresh out of the oven:

You have to let it cool for 30 minutes -- so many juices!

We then cut into the bird(s).

It had been perfectly cooked, and was quite tender. I definitely recommend this treat for holidays and family gatherings.

You can make your own Turducken. This recipe is quite detailed, and includes graphic photos of meat insertion. Not recommended viewing for vegetarians.

Mark and John bought theirs online. I heard a rumor that Citarella carried them around the holidays, but I'm sure they charged one million dollars for them.

Enjoy!

Finally, Solace in Tapas

I used to LOVE LOVE tapas at Xunta on 1st Ave and 11th Street. It's literally like a little cubby hole in the ground, with dark blue lights suspended over the low-ceilinged space by a fishnet. You could feast on cheap tapas served on a barrel, while perched atop a stool. Their garlic shrimp, tortilla espanola, stuffed olives, and spicy potatoes were among my favorites. Many a night included many a potent pitchers of their sangria.

But alas, Xunta was discovered by the masses. You now need reservations; the wait can be an hour and half. You'll be crowded on all sides by whooping drunk parties -- including many a blond birthday. (Admittedly, I haven't been there in a year -- the place irks me so much now). I abandoned Xunta. My search for tapas was admittedly half-hearted at first -- an annoying experience at over-priced Sala on Bowery soured me on my quest. I was only mildly sated by a trip to a place I cannot remember in Chicago last May.

But last Thursday I was rejuventated. I dragged a friend to Kana, all the way west on Spring Street and Greenwich, around 6:30. The atmosphere was very laid back (though I heard it can get much rowdier). I was really really happy with the tapas we ordered -- marinated mussels, which were acidic and garlicky; croquetes, which contained spicy chunks of sausage and a hot, cheesy, peppery sauce; and of course, tortilla espanola. This one was served warm, with a tomato-y sauce on the side. Two of us put away a whole pitcher of sangria, though admittedly were not drunk. Conclusion -- great food, weak sangria. However, I'd definitely go back for the food, and opt for wine instead.

I've never been to Spain (next year, maybe!), so my knowledge of what constitutes "authentic" tapas is pretty much nil. I just find all the food to be so damn good. It's also always a good setting for meeting up with friends. Nevertheless, feel free to always invite me out to tapas. Except to Xunta.

Supper @ Supper -- Twice!

For the second time in four nights, I found myself at Supper in the East Village. I did get to see the movie at the Pioneer that I had been anxious to see -- Risk|Reward, a documentary about women on Wall Street. Wooooheee one of those ladies was CRAZY. It really made you wonder why she had kids -- the movie made it look like she didn't give two hoots about them.

I always swear I'll never go back to Supper, with their no-reservations policy, and indifferent staff. My first experience there back in 2002 left me seeing spots, but it's so delicious, cheap, and charming that I can't help going back. And when there's no wait, it can't be beat.

But on to the food. On Friday night, Mickey Rooney wasn't feeling well, so we passed on appetizers, and went straight to dinner. (I have become fond of their bread served with a bowl of garlicky white beans, flecked with red pepper). I had tagliatelle with prosciutto, which consisted of delicate noodles mixed with pungent, diced bits of prosciutto in a subtle tomato sauce. Mickey had a lemon sole filet, which was heavenly. It was huge -- maybe 9" across -- and covered with a thick layer of buttery crumbs.

Tonight, B. and I were in more of a chowing mood. We split a bottle of Sangiovese ($26), and the smoked trout appetizer. The appetizer contained not only smoked trout (salty and dense), but a silky sheath of smoked salmon as well. Joining it on the plate was a mound of sweet, crunchy coleslaw, arugula covered in horseradish, and slivers of pickled sweet red onions. Ample for two hungry diners.

For our entrees, I chose spinach/ricotta ravioli in marinara. This was a simple dish, but contained a suitable, though not obscene portion. Neither the ricotta nor the spinach dominated, though both flavors were distinct. B. had branzino in a black-olive-and-tomato sauce, served with white potatoes on the side. I sampled the fish, which was simple -- it was well-matched with the briny-sweet olive and tomato pairing.

We had to have dessert, which consisted of a hazelnut pannacotta, surrounded on all sides by blueberries, strawberries, raspberries and I think green apple slices. These were doused in a thick, semi-sweet chocolate sauce. The panna-cotta was smoother and more mousse-like than I recalled panna cotta to be, but it was still wonderful. And more than enough for two people to share.

I love this restaurant. Go, but don't go too often. i don't want another experience like my first time there.