Immaculate Infatuation

There are a lot of haters out there these days who claim Nobu sold out by opening a 57th St. Midtown outpost. They say Nobu is old news, that it’s not as good as it once was, that the service isn’t amazing, and that it’s way overpriced. Don’t be fooled people. I say the naysayers are just pissed because they lost their jobs and are poorly channeling their life’s frustrations. Hands down, Nobu is the best upscale Japanese restaurant in New York City, and Immaculate Infatuation will back that statement until another restaurant as ridiculous as Nobu proves otherwise.

Infatuation’s recent trip to the royal fish house reaffirms our belief that Nobu is still the cream of the crop. Now, unless you’re with someone who really understands the menu and can place a proper fish order, the different priced tiers of the omakase (chef’s choice) tasting menu are the way to go. As I’m sure you know, Nobu isn’t cheap, so unless you’re rolling in dough, it’s a place saved for special occasions. Just promise us that when those occasions arise, you make the most of your trip. So, don’t go on the cheap and only order a couple dishes. Rather, go big or go home! Do yourself a favor and experience the full spectrum of what Nobu is all about, because you’re probably not going to be back for a while.

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Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new favorite BBQ spot. How it took us so long to get here is beyond me. Quite frankly, it’s embarrassing. We’ve been depriving ourselves of this hot action for way too long. If and when Team Infatuation opens our own BBQ spot, this is the place we’ll model it after. This is perfect destination for a night out with a big group for quality barbecue and booze. Situated inside what used to be an old auto body shop, this gutted garage is raging every night of the week. It’s essentially a combination of a Brooklyn beer garden and Texas style BBQ. House cured meats are served by the pound on butcher paper, and beers arrive in different sized jugs and growlers. Set up shop at one of the indoor or outdoor communal tables and you’ve got all the makings for a hell of an urban picnic. Never in my life have I seen a more attractive collection of females gnawing on pork ribs and drinking beers. Attention dudes looking for a nice woman who likes to get down on some BBQ: stop messing around with your buddy’s mom on CougarLife.com and turn your attention towards the bar area at Fette Sau.

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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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Fatty ‘Cue is apparently out to bring “a little Southeast Asian fermented funkiness” to Williamsburg. Something is funky alright…my stomach and their math. Everything in this place is overpriced and underwhelming. We got suckered into actually buying toast with a side of grease, cleverly marketed as “Master Fat”. “Master Fat” is what Fatty ‘Cue decided to call all the drippings at the bottom of the smoker so they could sell it. Pretty smart. But let me ask this question – how the f*ck can that taste like nothing? As a matter of fact, everything that we’ve had on the menu has been met with that same underwhelmed sentiment. Smoked duck that is then fried and served with curry? Somehow it just tastes like a piece of duck. Brisket pork bun sandwiches? Not good. And judging by how much beef comes on the plate, cows must be rare like California Condor these days. Not even the ‘Cue coriander bacon lived up to its billing, and that’s probably the best thing we’ve eaten at this place.

Honestly, we’re fans of Fatty Crab and Cabrtito, and we love BBQ, so we figured we would land on the side of like with this polarizing new restaurant. We tried, but at the end of the day, we just can’t get excited about mediocre food…especially when brisket costs $37 a pound.

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