Shuls & Shpayz: Milchig, Fleishig

Town & Village Synagogue
334 East 14th Street, East Village

Fernandes Steakhouse
158 Fleming Avenue, Ironbound, Newark

While out at Balade a couple weeks prior after going to the service at T&V in their basement social hall, we got to talking about ideas for the coming weeks. As we had learned of the Chocolate Heaven 20s and 30s Shabbat dinner to happen in another 2 weeks, we resolved to go as we had been searching for some sort of young social Jewish event to go to for some time. We'd buy the tickets in the coming week, though of course I waited until the absolute last minute to buy mine and just by strokes of luck of weather and cancellations I was able to get it in time. So we were all set for Friday night, and then on the topic of ethnic cuisines, either Julia or Neal had mentioned Newark's Spanish, Portuguese, and Brazilian population and their assorted eateries. One particular came up in discussion, and that is Fernandes Steakhouse in the most northern reaches of the Ironbound, not far from the Passaic River and the NJ Turnpike. This restaurant is at least locally known due to its satisfying rodizio experience. For those who don't know (and I didn't prior to this conversation), rodizio is a style of service in Brazilian restaurants involving an unlimited variety of meats, mostly beef, coming around straight from the kitchen and cut right at the table in front of you. Upon hearing of its sampling nature, I likened it to a Brazilian form of dim sum, which strangely enough of hearing about it often enough I have never had in a complete setting (just once downtown in a pretty rushed experience). It sounded good so we pieced together a group of 8 and made a reservation at Fernandes for Saturday night. As for the dinner after Shabbat, if it was going to revolve around Chocolate, it would thus have to be dairy in order to comply with kashruth in the synagogue. So our 2nd time at the T&V Synagogue. This time Meryl would be able to join us but because of the impending snow, Julia decided to stay put in NJ. Once again the subways let me down and I rushed this time from Union Square to get to the service on time. It is a personal peeve of mine to miss the first prayer of the service, Yedid Nefesh, thankfully I got there with 2 verses left to go. It sets the scene like none other, the pace at which it moves and the opportunities for harmony are unequaled. This time because the dinner was set up in the social hall the service was actually in the real sanctuary. Funny enough when I walked in there were a few people in the lobby and asked if I was there for the dinner, and I said yes and the service, mostly I was just trying to get to the coatroom and throw my stuff in and head upstairs. Well one of the greeters was none other than my Resident Advisor from senior year of college. So a lightning quick reunion and I got upstairs and searched the room for Neal and Meryl and fortunately they looked back so I saw them. The room was not very crowded but much of the congregation was on the younger side, undoubtedly due to the dinner afterwards. Upon sitting down and opening the siddur to page 252, I noticed around that the sanctuary was quite cavernous but strangely plain. I could very well imagine some 13 year old named Elliott Goldberg getting bar mitzvah in this room in like 1985. It had that stuck in time look to it, the way I would imagine the background of a photo from that time to look, except this was the present in 2013, nearly 30 years later. Most of the walls were just a simple white and aside from some designs on the wooden ark wall, it was a very modest worship area. So once again the service was nice, and there was no sermon except some words towards the end. Probably after 7 or so we all shuffled downstairs to the "cocktail hour" which was separate from the seating for the meal. There was a long table set up with plastic cups of what looked like nice rich chocolate milk with a straw peaking out. However, I, though I should say we, found out unfortunately this was not quite the case. The organizers had mentioned the presence of adult beverages, and this is exactly what these were. And then my suspicions were confirmed upon seeing the empty (plastic) vodka bottle on the table. And it was not just regular chocolate milk but DOUBLE chocolate milk, whatever that means. Case in point these drinks were quite awful. Chocolate milk and vodka? That's probably worse than the concoction I grew up drinking of milk and soda. I still to this day hold that part of the contribution of that not so pleasant taste was that my mom always put in a reusable plastic cup. Everyone knows nothing tastes as good in plastic as in glasses. There were also assortments of some other chocolatey things on the table. Then the dividers were open and everyone was asked to sit at the tables, the Rabbi talked about the week's parashah a few minutes while acknowledging everyone's desire to get food and then all tables were told to up to the buffet one by one. In keeping with the edict, the dinner was dairy, and Italian was chosen for cuisine. So we had our pick of salads, slices of cheese with oil, garlic, and tomato slices, lasagna, and raviolis. The dressing provided for the salad was a balsamic vinegarette but was brown and thick-looking so we thought perhaps they had supplied chocolate to put on the salads. A quick sniff proved it was indeed non-chocolate salad dressing. This food overall was nothing to write home about, and deemed overly salty by most people at the table. The dessert, however, was another story, with several different types of chocolate cake, including cheesecake, mousse cake, and layer cake. If only they had brought out the chocolate milk then. This was the night of the blizzard so after done eating, we all made a quick exit in order to get home. However, the next day would be even better, with our reservation at Fernandes in the Ironbound section of Newark. Of our group of 8, four were already in NJ and four were in the city so Neal proposed that the 4 of us in the city meet up to take the PATH train. Unfortunately, since Hurricane Sandy the WTC PATH line has not operated on the weekends so we were stuck taking the 33rd St line which stops in Hoboken before it winds its way to Journal Square where you then have to switch across the platform for the train bound for Newark, a trip which takes about 45 minutes. Of course, right on schedule, subways were fickle and Alisa and I did not get to 33rd Street in time to make the departing PATH train we had discussed earlier in the day with Neal. So half the group went to show up for the reservation at 7, while Jon and Dana waited in the car at Harrison to pick us up. Supposed to arrive at 6:57, I think we got in the car about 7:05, and with the steakhouse just over a mile away, we were parked, walked through their one, two, three, and four entrance doors, up the stairs, around the half-wall, and seated before 7:15 so no loss to be had. They had already ordered a pitcher of sangria, which had a rather calm and behaved taste. Having seen the menu online before leaving, I was overwhelmed but not for long as there is essentially one reason why people go to Fernandes and that is for their rodizio, as mentioned previously like a Brazilian dim sum with all kinds of meat straight out the kitchen seared and then cut at the table. Most of the table opted for rodizio, and for $30, it was no wrong way to go. Also with a salad bar included, which I consciously limited myself with, in order to have room for the meat. Some peppers, a little bit of lettuce, and tomatoes, and onions. It kind of reminded me of the pickle bar at Harold's, the home of the world's best OVERsized sandwiches. Don't overload, because you know you want the pastrami and corned beef and rye. Same concept here, except no bread, well the kind in the basket only. Probably one of the only disappointments I had was that they gave butter that comes in little packets like at a diner. They could have just solved that problem by giving oil to dip the bread into. So another pitcher of sangria and finally the meat servers started rolling in. For some of the cuts, like the roast beef, it was a joint effort with the server who would be cutting a slice and there were tongs on the table you were supposed to grab part of the slice so that when the cut was finished, it wouldn't fall on the table or the floor. This practice took a few separate trials before I caught on as to what you were supposed to do. The first 2 or 3 times I would forget and just continue eating my food while the guy was trying to cut the meat. Some of the meats were so incredibly delicious, and some were just way too rare, and some had too much fat. Roast beef, flanken, prime rib, bottom sirloin, tenderloin, and filet mignon, not to mention kebabs. As is customary in rodizio, they also had chicken hearts which we mischievously loaded onto Jon's plate when he was in the bathroom. And without asking questions, he ate them, but then when we told him what they were he swore he wouldn't eat them again, citing them as being tart. Those and the pork are essentially the only things I did not consume on this feastly night. When I was finally satisfied with the amount of meat I had ingested, the servers brought around the rodizio dessert: grilled pineapples, a fine topping to the meal. But some of us dared to go further, especially tempted when a tray of luscious-looking desserts was brought around, so a couple cakes were ordered to finish everything off, though I opted out at this point. One of the great things about eating so much meat alone is that it is pure protein, as opposed to sushi which has a good amount of carbs, so you eat a lot and feel pleasantly full as opposed to feeling too full. And also we circulated the discussion of Spanish Tavern since we were in the neighborhood. I think a long time ago I've been to the one on Route 22 across the road from Arirang Steakhouse but never to the more authentic one in Newark itself. That appears to be our next destination in the Ironbound. So we got a ride back to the Harrison PATH station, Meryl, Alisa, and I and the ride back was quite more smooth than the ride going into Newark.