Along The Silk Road

With entries about Algerian, Scandinavian, and Ethiopian out of the way, we journey further east both geographically and culinarily and surprisingly to the first Kosher food experience in this journey. As a resident of Queens, which is often perceived by others as a foreign land, and it may as well be given the great diversity within the borders, there are boundless eating opportunities. In my little section along Roosevelt Avenue, there is one that will twitch people's ears, everyone's favorite Thai restaurant with the encyclopedic menu, Sri Pra Phai. Other than that there is solidly reliable Stop Inn at which I just stopped in on Sunday for a great brunch of Challah French Toast and turkey bacon (yes, they actually advertise on their menu that they have both turkey bacon and turkey sausage. FTW!) Now back to the main attraction. The third weekend of May was my sister's college graduation so I went out there with my family and then decided to stay the night in New Jersey after we got back on Sunday night. I took the bus into Manhattan to work and my mom said she would drive in later with my bag and some food because it is virtually impossible for me to leave New Jersey without bringing some type of comestibles back to NYC. I got back to my apartment around 7:30 that Monday to find my mom chilling with my 2 roommates, all cool. After getting my stuff out of the car, the discussion turned to dinner and while they seem hesitant to go out, I take advantage of the situation and try to think of a restaurant to go to which I could chronicle here on Shuls & Shpayz though there are none within reasonable walking distance. The Thai place despite its endless menu is not as exciting anymore, the other Thai place is only so-so. We were going to go to the Mexican/Ecuadorian hybrid place next to the LIRR until I suggested the Jackson Diner in Jackson Heights. Since it is down on 74th Street, we would take the 7 line but my mom insisted we drive. Considering this area is basically Little India I wasn't sure exactly where we'd park but figured to give it a shot anyway. After sitting in traffic on 74th Street for about 10 minutes with my mom in awe of the sights and the people I mentioned that everywhere in Queens is some international colony. This area of Jackson Heights is Little India while Jews have the Queens Blvd corridor of Forest Hills, Rego Park, and Kew Gardens. At this thought, I remembered the several Bukhari restaurants that dot the area and after discussing it for a few seconds and the hopeless parking situation in Jackson Heights, rerouted and headed deeper into Queens on the way to have KOSHER Central Asian food. This part of Queens, sometimes referred to as Queensistan is not so much populated by Pakistanis as one may think but rather by Mizrahi Jews collectively known as Bukhari after a city in Uzbekistan called Bukhara. As a former Soviet state, there is an odd Russian imprint left. However, there is a significant difference from the Russian Jews of Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, who are mostly of Ashkenazi extraction. A very traditional population, the Bukharim brought with them a cuisine as reflective of the region through which the Silk Road passed as Queens is today. There are probably around a half-dozen restaurants in the Rego Park vicinity which specialize in Bukharan food, all of which, of course, are certified kosher. Through one way or another, I settled on Cheburechnaya on 63rd Drive as the place to go. Cruising down Queens Boulevard, the scene shifts slightly from Argentine and Uruguayan steakhouses to a the strange circular Macy's at the Queens mall. Making a right off the main road, going a few blocks and parking across the street from a church and a diner. The menu on Cheburechnaya reflects its origins, there are staple Russian comfort foods including herring, borscht, and sour cabbage, Israeli and Middle Eastern delicacies like baba ghanoush, hummus, and dolma (stuffed grape leaves), and of course the hearty meat-based fare of the Central Asian steppes. When you walk in, it is a very open layout, large and horizontal, well-lit, very casual, with old wooden paneling on the walls, and a imposing deli case which lines the better part of the dining area. A young and thin waitress/hostess comes and tells us we can sit wherever. I pick a table in the middle along the half-wall separating the seating area from the main entrance. She brings the menus and although I've already remarked a few times, it is still like nothing I'd seen, especially knowing that all the food is kosher (lamb testicles, anyone?!?). My mom and I each order a soup to start, I the Lagman ("pasta with beef, mixed vegetables, and assorted spices) and her the Pelmeni ("boiled bite size dumplings with ground beef"). Eventually I come to realize that the great majority of this food consisted of various types of dumplings, sort of (like it is geographically) a cross between pierogis and kreplach with the type you'd expect to find in Chinese restaurants. The Lagman soup seemed to have so much going on, it was very good, but there were so many tastes! I had also heard about a particular style of bread which is unique to Bukhari cuisine. I looked for lepeshka on the menu to no avail. I asked the waitress if they have it, and she responds "oh you mean bread, yes, it's on the appetizers, do you want small or large?" Later I turn to the appetizers section of the menu and sure enough there is an item just called "bread." The lepeshka (described as "a short, round, crusty loaf of bread baked in a clay oven") I thought was supposed to be soft and warm but ended up being like sourdough bread, quite hard and room temperature. I used it mainly to scoop out the remnants of my soup, which was good because of all the noodles, both thick and thin along with the meat and veggies scattered around. As I wanted to sample and not be bound by one dish, I continued my orders of small dishes. After the soup and bread came the manty, which are giant, thin-dough dumplings, said to be like Russian pelmeni or more delicate than pierogies. The filling consisted of ground meat, either lamb or beef or both, with onion, and a bit of pepper, then steamed which result in slippery deliciousness with meat juices soaked within. These manty are so hearty that of the original 4 we ordered, 2 of them came home with me and became part of my dinner the next night. Though shish kebab can seem generic, as it is found all over the Middle East and Central Asia, it is commonly eaten here as well. Kebabs can be ordered a shish at a time so we ordered 2 boneless chicken and 2 vegetable. They came on large knives almost sword-like and were grilled to perfection. To drink, my mom had green tea, which is popular and traditional, as it is throughout Asia. Throughout the meal, my mom kept asking me if I thought the waitress was Jewish so when she came to bring our food my mom tried to engage her in conversation to find that she has been in the US for only 4 months and speaks only enough English to take food orders and she also speaks Uzbek and Russian. I asked my mom if she wanted to me to ask in Russian if she is Jewish (yevrey = Jew, yevreyskaya = Jewish) but she said no so we were left with the mystery. Before we left, a multi-generational family arrived in shifts, first a mother and her young children including a baby accompanied by an older woman donning a babushka. Later a man and a woman in business attire came as well and joined the table, 8 strong with 3 kids and 5 adults. We tried to figure out what language they were speaking; I assumed it was Uzbek or Bukhori. The business dressed woman came over when my mom inquired and spoke to us in accented English that it is her family, the kids are her grandchildren, and the first woman is her daughter. She motioned that the lady in the babushka does not speak English and also did not pay her much attention so she was probably a nanny. The woman said they are Jews and we said we are as well  and my mom mentioned that we can speak Spanish (although not really) and the woman seemed amazed at this. She asked if we speak Hebrew to which I replied "kitzat" (a little). The language they were speaking was actually Russian but the family had lived in Israel for a number of years so that explained why it sounded different because it was accented by Hebrew. She seemed like she was going to continue telling us more when her husband gave her a look so we said goodbye and left the restaurant. My mom's main observation about Cheburechnaya (and Bukhari food in general) was that the food we ate was unlike any kosher food she'd ever had, it didn't seem kosher like kosher food so often does.


New York Magazine's review of Cheburechnaya:

"This one-off spot draws Soviet expats and motivated chowhounds seeking outer-borough exotica. Post-Shabbat on Saturday nights, Cheburechnaya’s cafeteria-like room percolates with groups of guys in open-necked shirts, gal-pals gossiping in Russian, multigenerational Uzbeki clans complete with racing preschoolers, and a hipster or two on a mission. Like its patient, English-competent waitresses, Cheburechnaya’s vast appetizer-strong, photo-laden menu aims to please. The kosher chow, served per piece, is priced remarkably low, so diners can assemble meze-style meals for relatively few rubles. There’s Ukranian comfort food like borscht, stuffed cabbage, and piroshki dumplings called manty, along with a smattering of Middle Eastern familiars, like hummus (decent) and baklava (dry). But Cheburechnaya’s menu extols the rugged, meaty Bukharan fare of Tashkent and Samarkand, in Uzbekistan, where windswept steppes meet Marco Polo’s spice route. The house specialty is chebureki, empanada-like fried tarts stuffed with the likes of fennel-sparked cabbage or rich, gamy mutton. Shish kebabs of ground or sliced mutton or beef and various organs (don’t think too much about which) are deftly flamed on swashbuckling skewers. Cheburechnaya may extend familiar comfort to Uzbek diners, but for born-here, done-that New Yorkers, it’s a MetroCard adventure down the Great Silk Road." — Karen Tina Harrison

Cheburechnaya menu

 Cheburechnaya (Kosher)

Cheburechnaya inside

More Cheburechnaya!

 Green Tea  with real sugar cubes

Lepeshka!

Lagman soup!

 Pelmeni Soup!

Pelmeni Soup up close

Manty!

Boneless chicken kebab and vegetable kebab!

A Royal Feast For My Birthday

After a pleasant birthday which included lunch in Bryant Park and surprise bitesize Baked By Melissa cupcakes from coworkers, the topper was dinner with friends. Given my choice of destination, with Alisa in tow, I settled on Ethiopian, and as it would be new to me, I thought it good to have an experienced patron alongside me. I had heard that there are no utensils, that you eat with your hands, so of course this piqued my curiosity. Jon had sworn on Ethiopian food as one of the best kinds he's ever had so every once in a while, I would suggest it but other people in our group usually were not so enthusiastic on the prospect. So, it would be, on my quarter century anniversary, that I would dine on Ethiopian food with my good friends Alisa, Meryl, and Julia. Having done a bit of intel work in advance, I determined Queen Of Sheba to be the best bet for a first taste. Despite the connection to King Solomon and the association with the Jewish Bible that the restaurant name has and the growing visibility of Ethiopian Jews today, mostly in Israel (especially as Miss Israel 2013 is originally from Ethiopia), this restaurant is not run by Beta Israel and is not kosher. So the 4 of us agreed to meet at the restaurant around 7pm, which is over on 10th Avenue at 46th Street. Though it was great weather outside and I would have liked to sit near the open windows, we were stuck in the back which was quite dark considering the light outside. What I had not realized about Queen Of Sheba is that there is a section of seating featuring small chairs and some sort of traditional basket table which everyone gathers around once the food is presented. This is a conducive layout considering the more popular dishes tend to be sampling platters for multiple people. Because I was running late, of course, I did not have the opportunity to choose this unique seating arrangement and thus the girls chose to be boring by sitting at standard wooden tables and chairs.  Meryl and I each ordered a glass of honey wine (tej), which proved to be delicious. In order to write these posts, I usually consult the restaurants' menus on their websites to capture the description of what was ordered however the menu of Queen Of Sheba's website seems utterly different than the one I recall reading at the restaurant so much so that I did not see the appetizer we ordered and the sampling platter lists each component by its Amharic name rather than the English descriptions I remembered on the menu at the table. In any case, the medium for consumption with Ethiopian cuisine is their native bread, known as injera, which is like a sticky and spongy pita. NY Magazine describes it as "made with the prolific, sturdy grain, tef, which is ground, fermented, and cooked; bubbles splattering up through the batter pock-mark the bread and give it texture." It continues: "In little piles on the bread are intricately spiced and braised meat and vegetable dishes. The way to get at the food is to tear off swatches of injera and use them to scoop up the food. " And by the end it says your hands are the color and tang of berbere; this is the part I did not like so much that I went to the bathroom multiple times to wash my hands. The stickiness of the injera would leave my hands feeling powdery, dry, and sticky. The appetizer we ordered definitely contained some tomatoes and peppers and came served in the form of a pilaf. As described before, it came atop a spread sheet of injera from which you could tear the injera and pick up the food in it. This is also something which requires some learning, especially how much can be handled inside a scrunched up piece of injera without it falling all over your lap. Another thing I recall is that there were no plates so I felt compelled to eat over the large platter; it was definitely not a smooth experience. In order to get a wide array of tastes, we decided to go for the Taste of Sheba under the Sheba Combination Sample Dishes. According to the menu of the Queen Of Sheba website, it basically consists of an assortment of most of the beef and lamb dishes, which once they come on the platter, somewhat resemble curries and are not easy to distinguish from one another. We took turns eating each selection and naming which were sub-par and which we liked, and essentially just aiming to clean off the platter. The highlight was probably picking up the remnants with the injera as at this point several tastes blended together. Overall, I was disappointed with my first Ethiopian food experience, and probably even a bit more disappointed because I had high hopes going in. That said, I would definitely try it again, though perhaps at a different restaurant (or maybe it is necessary to have the magic of sitting around the traditional basket table). For a more succinct description of visiting Queen Of Sheba on the West Side of Manhattan: I've included the review from my other consulting blog Eating The World In New York City, keeping mind the review is from nearly 2 years and prices have since changed...

"'Ive been known to complain about Ethiopian food before, claiming all its little piles of colors end up tasting the same in the end, using many similar spices throughout the palate of meat and vegetable dishes. At Queen of Sheba, the city's finest example, my gripes bear little resemblance to the reality.

At first glance, the restaurant is similar to others in town, darkly lit with homages to the home country and a quiet atmosphere. Sheba has a full bar and even a couple Ethiopian beers if the mood strikes you. If you have a group and the chance to sit in the back left of the restaurant, jump at the opportunity. The seating might not be comfortable, per se, but everyone gathered around the traditional basket and eating from the center feels very good. This is not a cuisine to be reserved about eating, so everyone just needs to dig in and get their hands dirty.

The basic component of an Ethiopian meal is the bread, injera, a large flat sourdough. Injera is not for everyone's taste, but I have always enjoyed it even when the rest of the meal has left me wanting. The bread here (below) is of top quality, light and soft, almost feeling like a warm blanket you could pull over yourself.

The trick here is eating with the bread to grab mouthfuls, figuring out what size bread and what quantity of food make a safe scoop. There is a science to making sure none of it falls or gets all over your face and hands, but that is part of the fun.

I have never been to an Ethiopian restaurant and not ordered some kind of sample platter. This meal was no exception, and the dark illegible photo you see below is a combination of both the Taste of Sheba combination sampler ($19.95) and Sheba vegetarian sampler ($15). Four of us split this and were plenty full, as the food lasts as far as you want it with an unlimited supply of injera.

I noticed on the menu that the place also has $10.50-$12 lunch specials, which would be a great option for anyone nearby in Hell's Kitchen."

 Queen Of Sheba, 650 10th Avenue

Dimly lit interior (we sat at the table in the left foreground as the angle is looking towards the street)

The cool looking sitting area with the basket tables in the center where we should have sat

 Honey wine and neatly folded injera

Injera close-up

 The appetizer, served on none other than injera

Attempting to eat said appetizer with injera pouch

The Grand Behemoth: Taste Of Sheba. We split this among the 4 of us.

A Different North Africa

Over the winter, we went to a handful of trivia nights around Manhattan, in the Upper East Side, the Lower East Side, and once in Greenwich Village around NYU. This particular night a group of us were to meet up at Amity Hall where we had even reserved a table. As a Wednesday night, when Julia/Meryl/Alisa were traditionally getting dinner, so I viewed this is as a great opportunity to continue my culinary conquests. Having taken people to places which were not so well-received by others, there is a certain hesitation when I suggest a place to eat now. So sometimes this limits my ability to suggest based on who is the company. Unfortunately, the East Village has a significant concentration of restaurants which would be deemed no-no by the boring palate police, namely Indian and Sri Lankan. There is a Lebanese place on 1st Ave we've been up to that was just sub-par, a  couple quick places that are not suitable for a sit-down dinner, Japanese (but our group eats sushi too often), and the infamous alterna-Thai: Zabb Elee which was a low point for everyone because of the spicy surprises. There is also a Ukrainian place as well as a Serbian place all the way over on Avenue C but no one wanted to go there because of a combination of being far away and having a menu heavy on pork. Thankfully (I thought at the time) I was able to convince people to go to Nomad, the "North African" place on 2nd Avenue since I wanted something a bit exotic (telling people it was like Moroccan was good enough justification). Nomad is not related to the NoMad hotel nor the synonymous neighborhood "NOrth of MADison square park". What I was going here for was its Algerian identity or at least that of its owners. Nomad is one of those restaurants in this city that hides behind a shroud of being referred to a regional: "Mediterrarean" or "North African". While it is most recognizably related to Moroccan, it is the first result in Google when you type in "Algerian food NYC". I'll tell you here I really wanted to like this place and when we ate the food was very good, perhaps even a bit heavier than Moroccan food I've had elsewhere (the chef is apparently Moroccan-born). So we got there with our reservation that turned out to be unnecessary on a Wednesday evening and started off with an appetizer of Nomad Trio Dip: crispy pita served with a choice of 3 dips: "hummus, cucumber yogurt, dry fava bean, muhamara, zaalouk, and babaghanoush and artichoke" from which we chose the hummus, cucumber yogurt, and muhamara, which is a dip made out of red peppers, so yes spicy. The pita was warm and soft and the dips thick and fresh as would be expected. For my main course, I was drawn to the lamb tajine ("braised lamb with prunes, caramelized onions and almonds, served with side of couscous") but obviously that wasn't enough, I had to go with the Couscous Royal (a big conglomeration: "lamb, chicken, merguez, and vegetables in a meat broth"). The tang that was with this broth and then soaked up by the couscous was excellent. And with the chickpeas and the lamb merguez was interesting, obviously a lot different than the veal sausages they make uptown at Heidelberg. Like I said, I wanted to like this place, especially since the inside is beautifully decorated, I was seriously contemplating it as a possible date spot in the future, quiet, intimate, not too crowded. But my opinion of Nomad would regrettably later be tarnished when I woke up the next day feeling worse than I could possibly ever remember. I'll spare most of the details, but I was affected for the entire day, with chills, vertigo, among other things, I napped during the day, and even tried to go to sleep earlier than usual to escape the dreadful day. By the middle of the next morning I was mostly fine again. I'm still not sure exactly what was the cause. I had no problems while out the rest of the night at the bar for trivia and none of the girls experienced any issues after their meals. All I know is that I am steering far clear of Nomad for the duration of my life. Out of 225 reviews on Yelp, only 1 makes mention of feeling sick afterwards. Not recommended, but if you desire Algerian food, do so at your own risk! Also, there is apparently another Algerian place in Astoria called Harissa Cafe though it seems like it is either closed or in the process of moving.

 Nomad at night

Nomad in day

Nomad inside, all the time

 Nomad Trio Dip appetizer

Couscous Royal with lamb, chicken, and merguez (which is also lamb)

The girls' Merguez Sandwiches "on baguette with chakchuka salad and harissa, served with French fries"

Un Petit Voyage En France

I have got to say this place would have a lot more reviews on Yelp if it were located somewhere like the Lower East Side or Williamsburg (<100 reviews as of Memorial Day 2013). Probably one of the best secrets of Queens and probably the best secret of my under the radar neighborhood of Woodside. Another place visited with the precedential guidance of Alisa. It's always there 2 blocks away, near the Stop Inn, the Duane Reade, the supermarket, and Subway as well as sitting below the actual subway 7 train. It's one of the few hipster-looking places around with a bright lavender paint job with fun little lettering that says "fresca la crepe since 2010". And I've always wanted to go. So why not save it for a special occasion. Dan was in town from California the weekend before Passover and that Saturday night we all went to Manhattan to someone's birthday at a new beer bar. The next day after everyone crashed on our floor we started off with brunch at Saints & Sinners. This is one of a number of similar Irish bars in the once Irish-centric neighborhood and like most in the area offers a Sunday brunch consisting of various egg and pork-based meat dishes. My favorite in the area is undoubtedly Donovans which offers great soda bread with its brunch dishes. And the catch in the area is that it's usually just about $10.00. Anyway, unfortunately while Saints & Sinners is a pretty good bar with pretty good bar food it just doesn't cut it for breakfast/brunch. The place doesn't have hash browns or home fries. I ordered an omelette and they gave me French fries!  In fact, everyone got French fries, from the chicken sandwich ordered to the "Irish breakfast" with bacon and sausage ordered. Now maybe this was a hint of what would come later on in the day but I just don't associate French fries with my morning meal. Afterwards, 4 of us decided to walk all the way to Astoria to check out the Museum Of The Moving Image, at Dan's suggestion. I was glad everyone was down to walk there because it was nice out, one of those few days in early Spring that is somewhat warm, about 1.5 miles each way. So after the museum we were trying to figure out what to do and I suggested we try the crepe place so we called Alisa and she found out they close at 4:00 on Sundays. The museum was great and I particularly enjoyed the retro video games they had on exhibit, including my beloved Sega Genesis. So we left the museum around 3:00 and made it to the crepe place around 3:30, and glad we did so. It ended up on my international cuisines destination map for France because French restaurants can be so hit-or-miss and how is a crepe not a staple of Paris street food, if excessively consumed by tourists. Fresca La Crepe has no website and its NYMag.com restaurant listing page lists out-of-date hours, but it seems strong as ever. The place is very tiny with a takeout window that I think acts more like a ventilation since the crepes are cooked in the front by the window. If someone is ordering at the counter, it is hard to get by them in or out of the door. In the back you'd expect there to be seats and there are a few but they are not set up in a way which is conducive to eating with a group and it somewhat appears to be an extension of the kitchen itself so you know off the bat it's a takeaway place. The menu is also very small and simple, but one of the best parts is that there is a sort of secret menu, a handful of specialty crepes while always available are unlisted. After sifting through some reviews on my phone while my friends ordered theirs off the menu (either Sweet or Savory) Nutella Banana, S'mores, I went ahead and ordered "The Bomb": Nutella, white chocolate, bananas, strawberries, toasted almonds, and mascarpone. We brought these back home and nom nom nom. I woofed mine down and like others have probably said in the past it was THE BOMB.  The story goes that the chef, who I believe is Chinese, was inspired during a trip to Paris some years ago and upon returning to New York City, decided to open up a crepe shop in Woodside in Queens and if you believe the awning outside, it's been there now for 3 years and the one-woman operation looks to be doing well. This is the kind of place that is just waiting to be discovered, lauded, and perhaps expanded. Examples in the area I can think of include Zabb Elee, down Roosevelt a bit near 72nd Street which opened up an East Village location within the last year and Sri Pra Phai a Thai powerhouse that has gained celebrity status after being featured in the NY Times a couple years ago.

Fresca La Crepe! 61st Street snug between Roosevelt Ave and Woodside Ave in Woodside, Queens

the whole menu (of course there are more unlisted items)

the tiny inside

 Chef Chu at work

almost done...

Truly The Bomb: the masterpiece

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Scrumptious Scandinavia

At this point, it's out of order, but it doesn't really matter because I am not trying to accomplish anything with restriction. If it's on this blog, then I've been there and that's what counts. Living in NY having grown up 2 rivers away (or 3 considering the crossing of the Rahway River is necessary), I have the good fortune of being able to see my family on short notice. So on this particular occasion, my mom was headed to Manhattan for a doctor appointment so I suggested trying an international cuisine destinations for dinner. There is not a lot in Midtown in terms of rare-ish quality food (the last time we did something like this it was my sister as well so we went to Ravagh the Persian restaurant written about a few posts back due to its proximity to Penn Station). Looking around on my map ( http://goo.gl/maps/TzHl0 ), actually I should correct and say not a whole lot in the Penn Station vicinity: within a 10-block radius, there are less than a dozen worthy: Ravagh on W 30th of course, The Australian (38th and 5th) which is primarily a bar, Trestle on Tenth (Swiss) all the way over on 10th Ave, BXL Zoute (22nd and 6th) and BXL Cafe (43rd and 6th), Lahori Kebab (Pakistani on 3rd and 28th) but is more a takeout place than anything, all the way to the Estonian House on 34th between 2nd and 3rd which I still haven't been able to figure out how to get into because it is like a social club but has a kitchen and it isn't clear whether the kitchen is open to the public or need to be invited. Anyway, that left one. On the border of Murray Hill, on a ritzy stretch of Park Ave about 5 blocks south of Grand Central, there is a cultural and multimedia center known as the Scandinavia House. Much less exclusive than the similarly named Estonian House, it is also happens to house in its lobby one of the 3 Manhattan locations of Smorgas Chef which like its name depicting a wide selection or variety is a unique mash-up of the cuisines of Scandinavian countries, though Sweden tends to shine the most out of the mix. Other Smorgas Chef locations include the West Village and the Financial District. My mom and I went on a Tuesday night in late February. Thankfully unlike many places in this daytime part of Manhattan which has a business hour population several times greater than its full-time population, Smorgas Chef does not close after lunch. It is a bit unclear at first when you walk in, searching for the restaurant only to find it is basically the lobby area set up with a bunch of tables and chairs sectioned off by a quarter wall fence. The Scandinavia House itself (described as the Nordic Center in America and home to the ASF: American-Scandinavian Foundation) is quite modern and sleek and regularly has movies, exhibitions, and learning seminars (read on Yelp of someone taking Icelandic!). So once inside it appears more like a cafe and the kitchen is all the way in the far back. The menu is definitely more upscale than Ikea's (who wants to eat horse meatballs anyway??) but the furniture is definitely indicative of a 20's-ish UES apartment setup. One of the more popular dishes on the menu seems to be a Swedish/Scandinavian sampler platter aptly named the Smorgasbord, consisting of "gravlaks (basically lox, which is actually the same word for salmon in Yiddish, Swedish, Norwegian, and a couple other languages), Jansson's potato, [the famous] Swedish meatballs, herring, and traditional accompaniments (like lefse)." This was absolutely delicious. As a fan of Eastern European cuisine which routinely features pickled fishes like tuna and whitefish particularly in my beloved Ashkenazi palate, having different kinds of herring with different sauces like dill mustard was amazing, and it is much lighter and seems like more cleaned up than Eastern European food. If food from Poland and Russia  is homestyle in its usually heaping portions and heavy sauces and potato accompaniments, then Scandinavian food is perfect for restaurants: aesthetically pleasing, diverse and delicious in taste, and still hearty enough, if not perhaps a bit oily. Along these same lines, we also ordered the Herring Quartet appetizer, which was "4 flavors of herring with lefse wraps and potato salad". This was also very good and the lefse was great to be able to capture the herring to eat like a little sandwich. The goat cheese fritters and beets, the latter perhaps a shout out to the proximity of Eastern Europe, included "spicy walnuts, greens, and caraway vinaigrette" reminded me of a typical appetizer at some downtown cafe that tries to be fancy. Nonetheless, goat cheese is always good. The Classic Smorgasbord was actually what I ordered for my meal. The goat cheese and herring quartet were appetizers. My mom had a salmon dish with cucumbers, greens, and potatoes. And instead of going for an alcoholic drink, I went with lingonberry juice (which yes does sound like "Lincoln-berry") which is not too different than cranberry juice. To top it all off, and this point all eating was being done by me as my mom resigned herself to any more food, I ordered a dessert of rice pudding with almonds and a cherry sauce. In my experience, I've always likened rice pudding to old people. Growing up, my parents would usually go out on Saturday nights and my Grandma and Grandpa would look after my sister and I and usually this included a trip to "the diner" in town for dinner where I would have the chance to order such amazing dishes as the "Batman hamburger and fries". Here at this diner, my Grandma would normally without fail order a rice pudding for dessert so for the better part of my life I have associated Grandma and rice pudding together. The rice pudding at Smorgas Chef is not a diner's rice pudding. It was an excellent way to end a varied and mature meal full of fish, cheese, berries, and bread. Oh yes and the Swedish bread was some of the best I've ever had served at restaurants, even better than most Italian restaurants!

Scandinavia House on Park Ave

Ikea tables and chairs in Smorgas Chef eating space/lobby

There is a large birch tree in the center of the area

 Amazing bread

Herring Quartet appetizer with lefse wraps

Lingonberry Juice

Smorgasbord sampler platter view 1

Smorgasbord sampler platter view 2

Salmon with greens and other things?

Delicious rice pudding dessert

Aussie Invasion

This is one of those minis, like going to get dumplings on 14th Street. Since Jon started a new job in Manhattan, it's been easier to find someone adventurous or interested enough to join me on random excursions (i.e. West African food in tired Brooklyn and alternative South American food in the far reaches of Queens). On one occasion I had suggested to Alisa we go for Australian food at the place she had told me many times called Tuck Shop. Little did I know however is that it is not a place to sit down to enjoy a meal. And a simple search of Google would have revealed this vital fact to me as the first line on the Wikipedia page for "tuck shop" is that it is a "small, food-selling retailer" in places like Australia and the UK.  And among the Tuck Shop's handful of NYC locations, it is indeed that. On an ambiguous Sunday afternoon in late Winter, we decided to go try out some meat pies. Although the East Village locations are apparently the main destinations, the one in Chelsea Market and its proximity to the High Line beckoned on a temperate day. I had been to Chelsea Market a number of times in the past. Situated right across 9th Avenue from a Port Authority building leased by Google and housing the offices for Major League Baseball's media properties, Chelsea Market is a bustling year-round craft mall and food court that extends out to 10th Avenue. I particularly remember having a very food chicken pot pie at a "farm-to-table" place towards the back. We took the LIRR to Penn Station and walked south. Not exactly sure where in the labyrinth it would be, we walked the expanse keeping eyes peeled and it was nowhere to be found. Tracing steps back, I noticed a board directing towards a recess. It was an area a few steps down that was reminiscent of a trade show setup with booth spaces rather than actual doors and stores; it was unfortunate, I noticed, that several of the spaces were either closed or seemingly vacant. After rounding a corner where there is some seating under glass windows, we found the Tuck Shop of Chelsea Market, more or less just a pop-up shop. What they specialize in is pretty straightforward; it's a pie with a filling, including BBQ pork, mac n cheese, and their signature traditional beef. It makes a nice quick lunch which is pretty much what we were looking for. What actually had piqued my interest was one that I had read about on my reference guide, United Nations Of Food, the breakfast, or brekkie pie. Since it was sort of brunch-ish time, I thought this sounded good: "dense, flaky, cholesterol-filled bricks of heavenliness.  Really:  a pie stuffed with eggs, beans, peppers, tomatoes, cheese, onions, ground beef, and potatoes?  And topped with bacon, if you want? " Well of course, I'd go without the bacon, but the pop-up nature of the Chelsea Market location proved evident when I asked for the brekkie pie only to be told that since it was pre-made at the 1st St location it came with bacon inside it so there was no option for just eggs, beans, peppers, tomatoes, cheese, ground beef, onions, and potatoes alone. I ended up settling for the traditional beef pie which was quite alright unto itself. Jon found the Guinness Steak and Mushrooms pie to be appetizing. After grabbing a seltzer to go along as well as some fantastic looking cole slaw, we made our way up to the High Line to dine overlooking  the Hudson followed by a stroll up back towards Penn Station along the newest extensions of the High Line from about 16th St up to its current terminus at 30th Street. One could do worse for a weekend to-go lunch than Australian meat pies from Tuck Shop's pop-up shop.

 Chelsea Market

 Tuck Shop station in Chelsea Market

Tuck Shop menu

 Book exchange!

High Line!

Take-away meat pie lunch on the High Line

Digging in! (traditional beef pie)

Guinness steak and mushrooms pie!