Unlike Shannon Kim, I am not a fan of this trend: the hipster bun.
I don’t object to a bun per se. Or even a messy bun.
It’s the heights people take it to – say, two inches from the forehead and hairline. Which strikes me as ridiculous.
I think this model pulls it off reasonably well. But it’s still not my favorite style.
What styles do you swear you’d never adopt?
What’s a compost cookie, you ask? It’s what I’d call a “kitchen sink” cookie that includes everything from chocolate to potato chips.
A fan took a shot at recreating Momofuku Milk Bar’s compost cookie here.
I took a nice long walk around my neighborhood Saturday. You should come and visit – there’s much more I want to see.
First thing, I grabbed a bite to eat at Fabiane’s in spite of @cherry_blossomz advice that while the food was good, the service was awful. She was right. Noted. Also, if you visit the web site, prepare yourself for some terrible smooth jazz. I warned you.
If I were paranoid, I’d tell you about how other diners got real knives while mine was plastic. Continue reading
I shouldn’t complain. But I’m complaining.
While my return to NYC has mostly been Food Heaven, I have not yet found a way to sate my craving for Indian food, my favorite cuisine.
Any regional Indian cuisine would do. Delivery would be ideal, but I’d pick it up here in Williamsburg, Brooklyn within reason.
I tried the best rated Indian restaurant in my hood that delivers (via Yelp). And It Sucked. (For the most part)
Check out what they sent to me as daal:
It looked like cream of wheat with chiles on top and tasted about as dull. Instead of lentils, the dish was mostly liquid with a few lonely kidney beans.
Into the trash!
When trying new Indian places, I usually go for the staples of British Indian dishes: samosas, maybe seekh kebab and chicken makhani/tikka masala/butter chicken. Once I think I’m in good hands I’ll move on to vindaloo or chettinad or whatever dish is sounding good.
That won’t be happening with Taj. The highlights for me were the things involving pastry: garlic naan and lamb samosas. Both were quite good. But the butter chicken, sprinkled with cashews (!) and not very saucy at all, made me sad.
I miss DC’s Heritage India and Indique, not to mention Rasika. I may resort to buying Indian food in Manhattan and importing it to Brooklyn via L train.