Tag Archives: East Village

Heck yeah, I ate that

My astute friend Liz suggested that we try Root & Bone, the new restaurant Eater had recently proclaimed to have the best fried chicken in NYC. I didn’t need to be persuaded.

The East Village space is tiny and quirky, as is typical for Alphabet City. The restaurant offers two small bars, reserving both for diners not drinkers. Although drinking is suggested too.

We started with drinks (good ones, although I couldn’t tell you what they were and the online cocktail menu isn’t current) and cornbread (eaten before photos could be taken). The latter was served with strawberry peppercorn preserves and clotted cream, and somehow managed to taste both light and rich simultaneously.

In order to sample more of the menu, we ordered the half fried chicken (four pieces) instead of the whole (eight).

Chicken and wafflesThe chicken was as spectacularly tasty as reviews have said. Crunchy, juicy, tangy, smoky, wonderful.

We also got cheddar waffles, corn bread, Southern peach caprese salad and grits.

Grits

What can I say about the grits? They were fabulous and indulgent in the best possible way. Imagine the best grits you’ve ever eaten and then add fresh sweet corn and pimento cheese.

Of all the dishes, I think the salad of grilled peaches, fried pimento cheese, pickled green tomatoes, basil, heirloom tomatoes and “sticky molasses vinegar” was most interesting. The salad arrived as we were eating the chicken and grits already so it might have gotten short shrift. My goal is to return while all the items are still in season so as to give this salad the attention is deserves.

Even with all of the dishes ordered, there were items we were sorry to miss such as our bar neighbor’s short rib meatloaf with parsnip puree. It’s on my future hit list for sure.

If I were going to skip any dish next time, it would be the waffles. They were good, but I have had the chicken-and-waffles combo elsewhere many times, such as at Sweet Chick. At Root & Bone, the chicken is superb and stands on its own.

We weren’t offered a dessert menu which was fine. Neither of us had room for more food. Maybe next time.

Somehow our meal (including tip!) worked out to just $34 per person. I’m sure Root & Bone will raise its prices over time, but I believe dinner there will still be absolutely worth it.

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Weekend Update

I approached this weekend with little planned – in a good way! Business travel Monday and Tuesday had left me feeling a bit tired.

Dinner on Friday with my friend Julie popped up as an option. We had a drink at Jane and then dinner at The Dutch. Very fun catching up.

Via glenwoodnyc.com

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The All-Important Mental Health Day

I have worked for my present employer for, like, one million years. As a result, I get a nice big block of vacation time.

It makes trips like Kenya possible. But also random Fridays off, a practice I heartily endorse. I used a vacation day Friday and it was a lovely Mental Health Day in Manhattan.

Plastic Flower Shop

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Mexican weekend

In advance of a work trip to Mexico (again), I went for dinner with my friends Amanda and Adrienne. I figured I’d be home by 11 pm or so.

Spoiler: that didn’t happen.

Amanda arrived first and snagged a seat at the bar, texting me to say Mercadito is a “shoebox.” And she was right. To get to the bathroom, you will squeeze past the bar. But you’ll manage. You may even make a new friend.

What Mercadito lacks in size, it makes up for in flavor. And alcohol. And personality.

A sign

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Remembering Stingy Lulu’s

Part of why I chose to live in Brooklyn was to start fresh. To avoid walking past this building or that and think “oh, that used to be…”

But nostalgia comes anyway. Sometimes because I go looking for it. Case in point: Stingy Lulu’s. It was my spot.

Via Vanishing New York

I hung out there a ton circa 1995-97. My good friend S, who I knew from college, and I went there often, usually weekly. We got to know one of the staff members pretty well, Harlow. She was probably the first transgender person I had gotten to know. Her vulnerability was apparent, as was her humor.

S and I were 21, 22. I usually drank a cocktail with pureed strawberries and cheap Champagne. It all seemed so exotic then. I’m trying to find a more original way to say “the world was our oyster” but right now, I can’t. It fits.

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