Immaculate Infatuation

Being David Chang’s wing-man apparently gets old pretty quickly. Despite having been a part of one of the most obsessed over and successful Manhattan food empires well, ever, Joaquin Baca decided to sell his Momofuku shares and open his own spot in Brooklyn. Can you blame him? It’s no fun when the other guy gets all the credit (and curses at you all day). Baca’s departure from Momo and his “return” to the Southern flavors he was brought up on has created a nice little food buzz across the dining community, so we decided to check it out.

We dropped by The Star before Hot Chip played Music Hall of Williamsburg a couple of weeks back. It’s an inviting spot, with a humble demeanor and a laid back, first come, first serve attitude. We were pleasantly surprised to grab a table without having to wait during prime time. While there certainly are some gems on the menu (we dug the cornbread, bacon wrapped trout and the country fried steak), some of the more traditional dishes left us scratching our heads. The Dr. Pepper ribs were just bad, which is ridiculous considering our waitress claimed they were everyone’s favorite. The braised pork shank was massive, but it was missing the magic. Unfortunately, The Star isn’t the home run we were expecting. More like a solid double in the gap. If you order right, you can have a successful face-stuffing feast – you get a ton of food for the price. Arrive hungry, leave full (and with leftovers), but don’t expect to be blown away.

Photo Credit: Robyn Lee/Serious Eats

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Manhattan’s food scene is far superior to San Francisco’s, with one glaring exception – Mexican. Seeing this gaping hole as an opportunity, two bay area transplants decided to bring NYC a taste of how the 415 gets down. Considering that Chipotle is in the “Best Mexican” conversation around here, Dos Toros has been a welcome addition, catering to the hungry youth that hang out around Union Square.

Having spent a good amount of time in SF frequenting the originals, I’ve gotta say that while Dos is definitely good for NYC, it pales in comparison to its predecessors. The space, along with the burritos, pay homage to the Gordo’s Taqueria mini franchise. From the foil wrap and paper bag packaging to the woven chairs, they hit the aesthetic right on the nose. Stuffed to the gills and served in identical red baskets, the tacos are a play on La Taqueria, a cult favorite in the Mission district. We applaud the effort and appreciate what Dos is trying to do. You can taste that they’re using high quality ingredients, but it’s missing that little extra something to make the food memorable. Even so, we’ll definitely be back for some Quick Eats before an Irving Plaza show.

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Local pig farmers must have thrown the biggest barnyard rager ever when news broke that The Spotted Pig‘s Ken Friedman and April Bloomfield were ditching their failed fish experiment, The John Dory, and headed back to the swine. Everyone on the Internet certainly paid attention. Hands down, The Breslin was the single-most hyped restaurant opening of 2009. Like college kids camped out before Bonnaroo, hungry food bloggers set up shop in the Ace Hotel lobby for weeks, drinking Porkslap Pale Ale and sleeping on couches as they typed, tweeted and texted The Breslin’s every move.

Not to say that we weren’t guilty of blowing up @immaculateinfat with pictures of pig foot now and again, but we definitely tried to not get sucked in by the hype. We hit The Breslin as much as possible before fully weighing in, which wasn’t an easy task. It’s obviously one of the tougher tables in town. Over the last month or two, we managed a solid Chronic Brunch hang with Hot 97’s Miss Info and Spin.com‘s Peter Gaston and a Dinner With The Parent’s move was manageable mid-week. The Breslin is definitely a better option for Weekday/After Work Drinks & Dinner than on the weekends, when you’re sure to hit crazy three hour waits.

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I hear such great things about Little Giant that I am convinced people rave about in hopes that they can will it into being a better restaurant. It’s a cute little spot on the corner of Orchard and Broome, and the food is generally good, but there are some real downsides that keep it from reaching the level of awesomeness required for us to back it. For one, it seems that the name Little Giant is meant to evoke the feeling you get when you sit at one of the tiny, cramped tables. At just over six feet tall, I’m certainly no giant, but I felt like Shaquille O’Neal eating dinner in a 3rd grade classroom. The tables are also extremely close together. So close that you might as well be eating from the same plate as the stranger that you are now essentially having dinner with. Second problem – the service confounds me. I swear that every time I have been to Little Giant, my server decides to punish me for something halfway through the meal. Why did you stop coming to the table? Why did you forget my wine? Are you mad at me? Is it because I don’t listen to Belle & Sebastian? You were so nice to me earlier. Lastly, when it comes to the meal, consistency is a problem, and the dishes don’t seem to fully come together. Maybe that’s partly due to greenmarket availability, but also maybe Concord grapes just don’t go well with scallops. Then again, I still hear people rave about the place, so maybe they do. Or maybe there are just plenty of people who are fine with spending a lot of money to eat mediocre food at a tiny table.

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There isn’t much in the way of Mexican to choose from in this town, so to some extent, I can understand why Mole gets good reviews. It’s a charming enough little spot – a handful of tables, walls painted in vivid colors, Spanish tiles – with all the necessary trimmings for a “family run” Mexican restaurant. Considering that most other Mexican joints around town either double as Chinese food restaurants (see Happy Taco) or downright suck, I get why Mole receives some love. The margaritas are good, and after a few, that guacamole is pretty slammin’. However, the food is average at best. In addition, it’s not cheap, it’s cash only, and the quality of service varies wildly from visit to visit. It’s almost like the restaurant equivalent of a bipolar kid with a really nice boat. You want to like him, and you give him a few chances, but you don’t want to hang out on a boat with someone that unpredictable. At the end of the day, there are other places to better satisfy your Mexican cravings than Mole, and they don’t require you to hit an ATM like you’re about to board a plane for Vegas. If you’re looking for some quality Mexican, head to Mexico Lindo instead.

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