Led Zeppole

After the earlier outing at Momofuku Noodle Bar, we vowed to hit a highly reputed little gut buster of a window shop known as Led Zeppole. As if the name weren't enough to draw you in, the menu makes such offerings as deep fried Oreos and a waffle ice cream sandwich, as well as traditional items like funnel cake, cannoli, and the namesake zeppole.

Though feeling too fat from all the pork at Momofuku, we did manage to squeeze room for an order of zeppole (a three count) and one hell of a messy cream puff. I found the dough on both to be a bit more dense than I am used to - it gave the bites an "old" feeling despite having come straight from the fryer. Still, it's hard to argue with fried dough swimming in powdered sugar.

One note to add - to the deeply-cleavaged spunky stand attendant: you made our experience far more enjoyable than the food alone could have, especially when you let us spin the wheel for a potential free zeppole (way to fail, Leah) and also when you spilled our order of zeppole, covering yourself and the floor in powdered sugar. You rock. We can party anytime.

Momofuku Noodle Bar

After about 3 years of overlooking the rapidly expanding Momofuku wave, I finally made it to the flagship Momofuku Noodle Bar earlier this evening. After tonight's meal, I feel I've been a fool for passing on this superb restaurant for so long.

The interior itself is cute - a little bit chic, a little bit homey, it's modern New York Japanese but much less pretentious than I expected based on my skewed knowledge of the cozy eatery. The counter stretches a significant length of the restaurant, with the close end seating patrons on both sides. Sitting down, we spied four churning machines behind the counter containing various soju slushies. I tried the "Yuzu Palmer", which was delicious, though I could have done with a bit more soju.

Our server behind the counter was super-friendly and seemed quite knowledgeable of her craft despite her young age.

The menu is brief and eclectic, and for a noodle bar there is a rather limited selection of noodles (a scant three). But as the adage goes, quality over quantity. To start we ordered two small items. First came the roast pork buns, which quite literally oozed porky goodness. Sorry, Ippudo, but Momofuku has your buns spanked. The fatty meat was of a melt-in-your-mouth consistency, and a welcome textural component included thin slices of cucumber.

Next to be served were roast pig tails. As the server described, they possessed a rib quality, only in smaller bites (riblets?). The meat was crispy on the outside, stringy and tender inside, dripping with flavor. Accompanying the morsels was a pickled Asian pear salad which was just heavenly. As first time pig tail eaters, we were a bit turned off by the tiny vertebrae bones, but for the flavor that's something I am perfectly willing to overlook.

Our noodle dishes came next: Chilled Spicy Noodles for me and Momofuku Ramen for my date. We each sampled the others' entree - the ramen was great, packed with a very heady piggy essence and more dissolvingly tender pork belly. My noodles, as the server warned, were searingly spicy, almost beyond my personal ability to tolerate, and let's face it - if you are reading this blog you know that is saying something. Overall I feel a bit perplexed by my dish. It felt a bit like a lazy night's dinner at home - "hmm what to eat? How about I throw some of this spicy sauce on those leftover noodles? What else...oooh there's some leftover sausage, and I need something healthy so I'll toss in this bag of baby spinach. Oh and I've been meaning to eat these candied cashews. What the hell, everyone in the pool!" Make no mistake, I liked it, but it was just confusing. Next time I would probably opt for the ramen, or one of the non-noodle mains, which sounded interesting. They also offer a 4 course prix fixe for $30, which is totally acceptable in my book.

I must return here for the fried chicken feast...

Clinton Street Bakery

Heaven, also known as Clinton Street Bakery, is located at 4 Clinton Street in the East Village. This little jewel is the winner of many a "Best In NYC" award for such notable delectables as pancakes, muffins, and biscuits. On my first trip there recently I was more than impressed by virtually every piece of food on my plate.

Ambiance-wise, the place is cute. It's part bakery, part diner. The end. On to the food.

It's the type of menu where you want one of everything. While I told myself that I absolutely had to order their famous blueberry pancakes, as soon as I looked at the menu I found I had a craving for potato pancakes with lox, dill, and lemon creme fraiche. But I stuck to my guns and ordered the requisite pancakes, as well as biscuits, fried green tomatoes, and twice smoked bacon.

Firstly, the biscuits. At $2.50 each, I thought to myself "ok NY prices..." When the biscuits arrived my jaw literally dropped. Or at least opened noticeably. Each flaky, golden, buttery, crumbly, delicate, delight could not have measured less than 6 inches in diameter and 3 inches in height. They were served with a tin of raspberry jam, which was quite honestly the best raspberry anything that I have ever consumed. I could eat this jam on these biscuits every day for the rest of my life, and I am not a raspberry person (though I am a biscuit person). The only thing that could have improved the biscuit-devouring experience would be some nice thick honey to drizzle on. Oh well, I settled for bacon.

The twice smoked bacon was very good. It really had a strong bacon flavor, though it could have been a bit more crispy and a bit less chewy. I would be interested in trying the sugar cured bacon next time.

Fried green tomatoes are a real fav of mine and these did not disappoint, though at 7 bucks for four slices they were probably the only thing we ate that I would actually consider overpriced. They were everything a fried green tomato should be, with the addition of a really fine tangy sauce, which I'm reasonably certain was the same lemon creme fraiche offered on the potato pancakes & lox. Yum.

Let's talk about pancakes. I don't much care for pancakes from restaurants. I only eat pancakes that are made by the following list of people:

- my mother

- my father

- me

While I prefer pancakes that are thinner and a little bit crisp about the edge, invariably this is not what is served when dining out. Rather you receive a thick, spongy, often dry cake that crumbles when you cut into it and forms a sort of mush when the crumbs from the center of the cake mix with the syrup. Ew. Not to mention the countless places that serve Aunt Jemima under the inappropriate handle of "Maple Syrup".

So please understand that I felt a certain amount of trepidation in ordering even the "Best Pancakes in NYC" rather than more savory dishes like the potato pancakes or truffle fried eggs with asparagus. But no, my inner willpower persevered and I forced myself to order a stack of Maine blueberry pancakes. What fortitude, right?

While they were not the best pancakes I have ever had in my life (yes that title is still held by my folks and I), they were absolutely the best pancakes I have ever been served in a restaurant. They were quite thick and fluffy, though they did have that delicate crispness I so enjoy. The blueberries were astoundingly delicious, both in the cakes themselves and also in the form of a rich sauce atop the stack. And to top it all off, a warm cup of whipped maple butter (a thick mixture of maple syrup and butter). Had it been my last meal ever I would have been pretty satisfied I think. Next time I am getting the buttermilk biscuit sandwich for sure - scrambled eggs, melted cheddar, and homemade tomato jam.

How a chump like Bobby Flay managed to beat these guys in a pancake throwdown is utterly beyond my comprehension.