Honey and
Ricotta
food, life, ramblings

Thursday, 2 February 2017

King


When two girls from London's River Café move to New York and open a restaurant with white washed walls and wicker chairs, you book a table for the next celebration opportunity. That celebration just so happened to be my birthday.

Going out in Manhattan is a rarity for us Brooklynites. Now that my office is also based in this outer borough, it's rare I even step foot on that little, chaotic, noisy island, let alone go out there in the evening. But, sometimes it's worth stepping over the Brooklyn Bridge to see what's happening amongst all the bright lights.

Serving seasonal, simple food, with influences from both Italy and Southern France, King's daily changing menu is one you can't help but love. The white brick walls and open, brass light-fittings make you feel like you're in London, the woven chairs and white tablecloths transport you to Paris, and then the diamond-wearing women around you and the beautiful linen shirts sported by the front of house remind you that, this evening, you really are in Manhattan. The space is simple, and understated, but the people, service, and food take it up to the next level. Much like The River Café itself.

The short menu is fresh and seasonal. We began with a beautiful, giant, rosemary, salt, and olive oil-coated carta di musica (see top photo), which was handed to us with our cocktails.


Panisse followed. These are essentially chickpea fries. The polenta-like batter is fried until every piece is super crisp on the outside, slightly soft in the middle, and is then coated in salt and sage. All drinks should be accompanied by these salty treats. Ricotta with shaved fennel came next. Creamy ricotta, crisp, herbal fennel, and a splash of bright olive oil transforms these simple ingredients into an elegant dish.


We fought over every strand of pappardelle with pork ragù. Thick strips of fresh al dente pasta with meaty, smushy (not a word, I know) sauce tangled between the pieces made us very happy. I persuaded B to have fish (it was my birthday after all), so we shared the most giant piece of skate. Charred and dark on the outside, the white flesh was almost delicate as it fell off its thick bones.  The greens tossed with mashed anchovies added salty, iron-rich flavors to this stunning fish.


A beautiful slice of walnut tart with a pot of thick cream then came flying towards us. These few bites of sweet, nutty filling, surrounded by the thinnest pastry, and doused in a puddle of cream made the most beautiful ending to a beautiful evening. It was worth the trip over to the other side of the bridge.

King, 18 King Street, New York, NY 10014.

Sunday, 29 January 2017

Milk Bar



My Instagram feed has me dreaming of life in Australia most days of the week. Beaches, sunshine, surfing, space, smiles, shorts, coffee, and endless plates of avocado toast with poached eggs seems to be the routine norm in that faraway, Trump-free land. Sadly, that typically resembles a total of 0% of my current life, but today my Australian dream was momentarily made a reality.

The sun shone, (yes it was -1˚C, but let's ignore that), I went for a blast round the park, and met injured, non-running B outside Milk Bar, which is a hop, skip and jump away from the Prospect Park's main entrance. After a 30-second wait the two seats in the window were ours. Water was poured, coffees ordered, and the "which eggs" debate began. 


We settled on plain eggs (two perfectly poached eggs) served on thick-crusted, soft in the middle sourdough, with extra avocado for good measure for me, and salmon eggs (similar but with the decadent addition of smoked salmon, pickled shallots, and fresh dill) for B. If you're looking for the perfect egg, come here. They have this Aussie-style brunch sorted. The granola with fruit and yogurt also looked beautiful, the pastries from Sullivan Street Bakery are, reportedly, buttery perfection, and next time I'll order a cappuccino with chocolate dusted on top. 

Milk Bar, 620 Vanderbilt Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11238

Saturday, 21 January 2017

5 Things & 3 More


5 happy things from the last 5 days:

1. Weeknight yoga.
2. Racing up the Prospect Park hill.
3. B's cookies.
4. New trainers.
5. Lasagna.

3 things to read this weekend:

1. 50 pictures of the Obamas. In case you haven't cried enough about the state of the world this week.
2. Have you seen mine and C's new website? Have a read this weekend to discover our favorite things to eat, drink, see, and do in London & New York.
3. Turmeric is magic, you guys. Eat it now.

Have a beautiful weekend. Shout loudly, march proudly, and be yourself.

xx

Friday, 20 January 2017

B&H Kosher Dairy


Returning to New York life after a week away is alway a challenge. Especially when it's January and the temptation to coop up inside with endless cups of tea, a never-ending stream of Netflix, and a torrent of emails often overwhelms. But last weekend it was time to break out of that negative rut, and get out into this amazing city we're lucky enough to temporarily call home. It was time to throw ourselves back into the fun, inspiring, thought-provoking places, moments, and people you can find in the Big Apple. So, with that in mind, at 12pm last Saturday we cycled over Manhattan Bridge in search of some blintzes at B&H Kosher Dairy.

I must have walked past B&H multiple times without even turning to look inside. But when you do make it past the bright green exterior, you walk straight into an old New York movie scene. This 400 square foot space is filled with one bar down one side, and a few tables down the other. You have to turn sideways to fit down the gap in between. The kitchen is a cubby hole at the back, next to the bathroom. You order from the tables by shouting over the heads of the people at the bar. If you do sit at the bar, be prepared to act as go-between by passing plates of challah and cups of coffee to the people sitting behind you.


B&H opened in 1938, and, despite a short closure in 2015 due to the 2nd Avenue gas explosion, has been serving Jewish comfort food ever since. However, the Jewish immigrants it once catered for are long gone, the kosher certification has expired, and it is now managed by a Polish Catholic and an Egyptian Muslim. The fact that this story is true, and that this deli is still open and serving up classic Yiddish fare, is just one reason why New York is such a magical city.

So we ordered a taste of everything. Coffee of course. Home fries (potatoes mixed with onions, veggies and other goodness and cooked on the griddle) with two fried eggs; super sweet, crispy on the outside cheese blintzes; a mix of fried pierogis, as recommended by everybody there; plus the freshly made, fluffy challah schmeared with soft butter, which is passed to you with a cup of iced water almost as soon as you walk in.


It's places like B&H Dairy which really bring New York to life. That make living in this city like living your life in a Woody Allen movie. That mean that despite all its many, hard, intense challenges, you discover these shiny gems, and suddenly your faith in this place and its people are restored.

B&H Dairy, 127 2nd Avenue, New York, NY 10003
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