Take their Scotch eggs- please. Boy, that joke never gets old. Scotch eggs are a traditional British pub food wherein a hard-boiled egg is wrapped in sausage, coated in breadcrumbs, and deep fried. Sounds kind of… thick, right?

They're light, but pack a delicious explosion. Kind of like little, tasty grenades...

Enter Scotch eggs at The Toucan and The Lion. They’re soft-boiled so they stay a bit runny and brightly flavored/colored; wrapped in duck sausage spiced with coriander, fennel, five-spice, and a touch of fish sauce, which gives them a light, freshly seasoned clarity; and breaded in panko breadcrumbs- the lightest and crispiest of all breadcrumbs.

The eggs are then halved and sprinkled with house-made guajillo chili flakes and keffir lime dust, as well as a touch of French sea salt. Three halves are placed on a bed of homemade kaffir lime aioli and served up hot.

The result is perfection: the slightly runny yolk compliments the heartiness of the duck, which is highlighted by the coriander and fish sauce, but balanced by the fennel and five-spice. The soft egg also contrasts beautifully with the crisp outer exterior, and subconsciously reminds you to dip each bite into the smooth, creamy aioli. And perhaps most subtly, the smoky-but-sweet guajillo chili flakes compliment the spiced duck and the tart undertones in the kaffir dust and aioli.

If you prefer your condiments made into a drink, however, try their house-rendered balsamic vermouth in the Black Night cocktail. It’s another bit of wonderful.

Before I get into the tamales, however, I want to bring you in on something very personal. Every morning for the past two years, I have had plain oats with no sweetener for breakfast. I love to eat plain noodles, plain sourdough bread, and rice right out of the pot. You will rarely see me adding condiments to a burger [especially ketchup, which the devil created to destroy us], or salting/peppering a meal at a restaurant.

Basically, I love eating things that taste like what they are. And as much as this lacks eloquence, the best part of these homemade corn tamales is how much they taste like, well, homemade corn tamales. This is masa magic only a Mexican grandmother could create [Note: Not based on personal experience – I have a Mimi, not an Abuelita]. Each bite of these tamales filled my mouth with delicious, subtly buttery, whole corn flavor… and that’s just at first. Next came the spices.

¡Dos más tamales, por favor!

Each of the two tamales is different: one a spicy rojo chicken, and the other an even spicier verde chicken [When I say spicy, I actually almost mean it. A Manhattan Mexi-dish actually leaving a nice hint of burn? Consider me impressed]. The spices are baked right into the tamale instead of drizzled on top, leaving the tamales moist, festively colored, and impossibly flavorful. Speaking of moist: did I mention the dish is served with a poached egg and a light drizzle of hollandaise on top? Unlike a few unfortunate tamales I’ve had in my life [yes, they exist, and yes, they’re as devastating as they sound], these babies couldn’t dream of being plain or dry.

I know this French-inspired restaurant isn’t called Almendra, but believe me- you have to try these amazing Mexican tamales. Abuelita insists.

I never thought garlic could be cooked until it was tender and subtle, because, well, garlic is rarely subtle. However, I was a FOOL! Anjappar’s Poondu Kolambu is exactly that- tender enough to fall apart in your mouth, and subdued enough to eat clove after clove. Think of it like a traditional curry, where instead of chicken or lamb chunks, you have whole garlic cloves. Ok, I know- I just had it yesterday and that description still sounds weird and un-appetizing. But it’s not over-garlicky! Fear not, ye mortals! Try it and become forever changed! (again with the vampire similarities…)

Do you Poondu?

The tomato and tamarind-based curry itself is perfectly, and I mean perfectly, seasoned- all the spice in the dish lends itself to flavour rather than heat. In fact, the Poondu Kolambu performed like a well-seasoned negotiator: Taylor- a spice addict- and I- a spice wuss- both walked away feeling like we got what we wanted out of the deal.

And your best vessel for transporting this heavenly (devilish? devilicious?) creation into your mouth? Their “Plain” Parotta, which is without a doubt the freshest, puffiest, most irresistible Indian bread I’ve ever eaten in my life.

They’ve only been open three months, so get there soon and you can say you were one of the cool New Yorkers to discover this gem before everyone else found out.

THIS + Eggs = Better than your breakfast. Guaranteed.

Sausage? Sure. Ribs? Of course. Brisket? Yes. Bacon?
Um. What?
Bacon?
Bacon, you say?!

Yes. Because bacon isn’t delicious enough, chef Matt Lang decided to turn sweet, sweet bacon into sweet, sweet bacon barbeque. And the results are good enough for inclusion in my imaginary Barbeque Hall Of Delicious Fame. Yes, the BHODF.

The taste is much like a sweet pork version of a good marbled texas brisket with a nice amount of salty, peppery crust in every bite. The meat is tender in most places and deliciously chewy in others, without ever being tough.

The catch- even though the barbeque at Fette Sau was pretty damn good, it wasn’t my favourite. So this smoked pork belly might just be extremely tasty because, well, pork belly is tasty. But there’s no reason to skip something delicious just because it’s supposed to be delicious, right? Right. Get there early to make sure you get some before they run out. Oh, and grab a side of burnt end baked beans- they rock.

But the reason I keep going back is the Bacala & Skordalia Brandade “Melt”…

Why is "melt" in quotes...?

At a glance, it looks like a fancy bruschetta or maybe a really fancy open-faced tuna sandwich. However, after your first bite, it transcends whatever petty label you’ve affixed it and instead just becomes “one of the most delicious things ever.”

The flavours are so well-blended (literally, it turns out) and mingle so quickly that’s it’s almost hard to pinpoint exactly why it’s so delicious. Fortunately, I’ve had it enough times now that I can keep my brain working a few seconds longer to analyze just before it shuts down and says “blaglahlahhhh…so good in my mouth…”

-EDUCATIONAL PARAGRAPH-
First of all, Bacala is colloquially called “salt cod,” (although, it’s soaked over and over in water before it’s ready to be cooked, which removes most of the saltiness), and a blended mixture of salt cod and olive oil is called a “Brandade.” Secondly, a “Skordalia” is a traditional, thick, greek spread- consisting of pureed garlic with other lumpy things (potatoes, walnuts, etc). At FishTag, the Skordalia consists of smoked potatoes, garlic, yogurt, and shredded Kefaloteri cheese, which lends a smoky robustness like a cross between a Gruyere and a Pecorino. These two blends are then themselves blended with a finely pureed smoked eggplant and nestled betwixt seasoned oven-roasted tomatoes and perfectly toasted French bread.

So in essence, this Bacala & Skordalia Brandade “Melt” is a delicious blend of delicious blends, a king among kings, a “tasty paste,” where all the flavours “melt” into one another in a cascading deluge of delicious balance. It’s served around the clock at FishTag and it’s one of my favourite things I’ve ever eaten ever.

Also, you should drink the Pepino Que Pica (Taylor prefers the Bee Keeper, but she is wrong).

I’m really big on asking for recommendations. I don’t always take the suggestions, but I do always ask to get a feel for what the server knows about their favourite dishes, which items the restaurant is famous for, etc. So it wasn’t too much of a stretch when I decided to follow our lovely waitress’s insistent advice and order the Manjar del cielo (Dulce de leche flan) instead of their Torta de chocolate negro- flourless chocolate cake and/or anything dark chocolate being my usual dessert pick.

Please excuse the chunk out of the top in the back... sometimes we forget to take a picture until after the first bite...

Boy was she right. I had seen a fresh tray of piping hot “heavenly delicacies” pass by our table, but I wasn’t prepared for how aptly named they were. The perfect creaminess of that first bite swirled with milky, sugary, caramely heaven. Of course, it was as balanced as any incredibly rich dessert can be, with slightly bitter notes of almost-coffee-ish burnt sugar, and an overall umami heartiness.

So like my father before me, I am now a flan fan and until the end of my days I will seek out and compare all other flans to this wonderful Manjar del cielo.

Stunning!

Most “regular” rellenos use a flour/egg batter that fries into a thick, pretty (and very heavy) golden hue, but this relleno looks more like a bumpy grilled pepper because it uses rice flour. While not the prettiest outcome, the finished result is wonderfully light and scrumptious. That also means this baby is gluten free (for you other intolerant types out there).

The delicious rice shell is minimal and the frying is just enough to give it the necessary crunch without sogging up the pepper and weighing down the diner. Instead of villainous cheese stuffing, quinoa, kale, and vegan sausage provide the hearty [AND healthy] flavor inside. It’s served with a swath of homemade spicy tomato coulis, which brings out a great meaty flavour from the pepper itself.

Vegans, vegetarians, and intolerants of all shapes and sizes rejoice: Executive Chef Harry Stoehr is determined to keep his menu food-allergy-friendly and option-heavy for all.

Want to experience the Pan American for yourself? Take your wife, girlfriend, or some broad from the street to their Aphrodisiac-themed five course Valentine’s Day dinner.

The pork chop was bigger than this.

Aside from being as big as Taylor’s head (which is large), the grilled pork chop at The Dutch comes glazed in heaven-clouds spiced with angel farts. No wait, it was actually seasoned with a sweet/sour cider glaze, and served on a bed of spinach with a few spiced apples on the side. But none of that matters. At all. What matters is that it’s brined for over 30 years in a cave full of pixies. That’s not true. But listen- the reason I keep diverging into these made-up scenarios is because it really is almost impossible to describe how good this pork is without resorting to cliches or throwing the word “perfect” around a dozen times. But for those of you who need to hear those words, here they are: it was incredibly moist, juuuust sweet, sour and salty enough, exceptionally tender, rich and meaty, light, yet hearty, and it made us both say “this is so good, why is this so good?!” over and over to each other in frustration/unearthly-pleasure (which is a dichotomy it seems only the two of us experience with wonderful food).

The golden beets were very good too, but who cares about a quarter lying next to a whole pile of pirate gold?

Oh, and one last thing about that pork chop- I forgot all about it when I tasted the short rib pot roast. Do you UNDERSTAND what I’m saying? I literally tasted probably the best meat I’ve ever eaten and not thirty seconds later it was replaced. This short rib pot roast was THAT good. “Good” doesn’t even work at this point! “Delicious” means NOTHING! It made me want to laugh and cry and pass out in an opium dream-orgasm of flavour the instant it hit my tongue. Believe me- I can’t use any MORE hyperbole to accurately describe my experience because it simply must be experienced. Also there were mashed potatoes.

My point is: I want you to eat at the Dutch; not because I like their management (I don’t) or because their waiters and bartenders are really nice (they are), or because the atmosphere must be experienced (it’s cramped).

I want you to eat here because food like this is the entire reason Taylor and I started Chew York and you owe it to yourself to enjoy the masterpieces of chef Andrew Carmellini.

Well, the local fried oysters at the Seahorse Tavern have their little oyster feet in both worlds. Though the rest of our meal was also solid and very well-prepared, we simply could not stop talking about these oysters all the way home.

It's no wondra they're so good!

First of all, let’s talk simple stuff. The Long Island Blue Point oysters are shucked-to-order, meaning you’ll taste how deliciously fresh they are from beginning to end. Secondly, they’re lightly battered in wondra flour, so their golden-brown shell is extra thin, crisp, and just all-around perfect. Lastly, they’re served with an aioli-based remoulade that adds nice classic flavours of garlic, lemon juice and parsley every other bite or so.

With plenty of attention paid to those important (and often overlooked) details, these fried oysters would be wonderful without anything else. BUT, luckily for us, the oyster goodness doesn’t stop there. Oh no. Rather, the bright and fresh saltiness of the oysters is complemented by both the spice of a small bit of cayenne pepper and the robust roundness of a few black and white sesame seeds scattered throughout the delicate wondra batter. And take a note from the Seahorse Tavern- get those pickle chunks OUT of your classic remoulade and replace them with diced tarragon. The sweet taste you love will still be there, but in a fresher and more pleasing way.

The end result of this classic/nouveau combination is super fresh fried oysters that crunch wonderfully with just a hint of spice and rounded sesame flavour, and that when dipped in remoulade offer up a complex, but balanced arrangement of great bold flavours.
Also, they’re served on a bed of decorative sea salt that is very pretty.
EAT THEM.

Less sweet than a kiss on the cheek.

That being said, we’d never had a balanced French Toast until Gravy. Where most French Toasts are by and large too sugary, this Bananas Foster French Toast is just right.

“But wait a second,” I hear you crying out in panic, “isn’t Bananas Foster a dessert?! And won’t two sweets make it too sweet toot-sweet?!!?”

Well, yes. Traditionally it is, smarty-pants. However, strange as it may sound, adding the elements of this dessert only serves to kick the sweetness down a notch (Un-Bam? De-Bam? Anti-Bam? Undead-Bam?). Yep, the tart bitterness of toasted sugar actually balances out the sweetness. What this allows to happen- which again, we’ve never experienced- is that you can taste the light, hearty flavour of the eggs themselves and the umami undertones of the maple syrup. Tartly bitter, slightly sour, lightly salty, very hearty AND just the right amount of sweet. All in one delicious entrée. Oh, and there were banana slices. Those were nice.

Less spicy than a sassy girlfriend.

Next up: the Tasso Benedict. Jon is a sucker for benedicts. You should know that about him. They’re his favourite breakfast. As such, he’s always excited with new variations, but very critical of the final result and how it matches up to the “classic” benedict. If you’re not familiar (we weren’t), “tasso” ham is “Cajun” ham. Which means, of course, that it’s spicy! Add this spicy creole ham to a few poached eggs, some arugula, home-made biscuits, and chipotle hollandaise sauce and ooh boy, you’ve got yourself one spicy “Looziana” benedict, right!? Well, not quite. The dish turned out to be, again, well-balanced, just like a good party where everyone gets along. The ham was just spicy enough to bring the chipotle hollandaise, which brought the eggs with it, who brought the biscuits. Then arugula just showed up by itself, but it’s angsty bitterness got along well with the sharp cayenne of the tasso ham. Success!

We can’t wait to go back for dinner, but just the brunch itself was balanced and interesting enough to bump Gravy into our regular rotation. That’s saying something.