at the sign of The Pink Pig

Park Yourselves At Olmsted

[Pigging by Wilfrid:  July 21, 2016]

We really didn't need any further confirmation of the diaspora of fine cuisine from Manhattan to the city's sundry other boros (well, two of them anyway) and to casual and relaxed surroundings, at more or less lower prices.

Olmsted, nevertheless, sharply confirms the proposition, offering dishes by a chef with a stellar resume, based in part on produce "curated" (I suppose we must say) by a co-owner who is both farmer and horticulturalist.

One Hears Le Coucou

[Pigging by Wilfrid:  July 11, 2016]

One does indeed hear Le Coucou at this loose but swanky French bistro on the border of Little Italy (technically a few yards east of SoHo).  And one doesn't hear it in the distant forest.

No, one hears it in the restrooms, where the mildly annoying French children's song, "Dans la forêt lointaine on entend le coucou" plays on an endless loop.  One of the few mis-steps in what is otherwise a highly polished dining experience.

Quick Bites: Hard Times Sundaes

[Pigging by Wilfrid: July 11, 2016]

It all started with the NYT Hungry City column. Rumors of a king among fast food burgers--if you felt like dragging almost two hours to Mill Basin by public transit for something you'd eat in five minutes.

The remote truck is no more, but Hard Times Sundaes has fetched up at UrbanSpace Vandberbilt, a food court with the look--but not the distinctive offerings--of Philadelphia's Terminal Market.  HTS is tucked in a corner, next to Dan Delaney's chicken sandwiches.  Single, double or triple burgers: you need at least a double. Or a hot dog.

The double with cheese (the pickle was my idea) came as two smashed patties. All chuck, says burger make Andrew Zurica. A good, smoky char. A potato roll. That's it: a good enough fast food burger.

"In the end, the greatness of a burger lies not in the quality or provenance of its ingredients, but in the touch, care and God-given talent of its make," said Ligaya Mishan in the Times.  Mm.  I've been told that the burgers at the truck were better; that it wasn't just the romance of the open road. It's hard to know how they might have changed.

And the double is $10 plus tax, before fries or a drink.

I Guess It Was The 4th Of July: Ten Years Ago

[Pink Pig Time Machine: July 11, 2016]

After the formalities of the previous week--WD-50 and Eleven Madison Park--I seemed to be all over the map doing international, inexpensive eating before and after the July 4th holiday, which fell on a Tuesday.

I didn't do much on the day itself except cook, and then in the evening participate in a poetry reading (with an understandably thin turn-out) at the Duplex in Greenwich Village.

Crab, Squab, Sauvage

[Pigging by Wilfrid: July 4, 2016]

A light supper at Sauvage, the very French-looking brasserie opened by the Maison Premiere team at that three-street junction which crowns McCarren Park, and where hip cocktail bars and cafes have slowly been challenging sausages and beer for cultural hegemony.

 

It's a welcoming spot with a long frontage: not quite a terrace outside, but a line of tables, all Euro-correct. The lighting and design is straight out of the McNally playbook--everything looks nicotine-colored and fifty years old.

Tastings At WD-50 And EMP: Ten Years Ago

[Pink Pig Time Machine by Wilfrid:  July 4, 2016]

I finished up June 2006 in fine fashion, completing the second half of the length-of-Broadway walk, watching the sun go down in Rockefeller Park at the Poet's House Poetic City event, and discovering a sketch troupe I followed for months after, Slightly Known People.

There was the annual trip to Coney Island and the freakatorium, a terrific exhibition of French book art at the NYPL, and two extravagant dinners.