Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Heartschallenger

Layla and Ben are a couple that certainly make sweet music. I’m not talking about Barry White here; I’m talking about a couple that blares original music from their new-to-New-York ice cream truck.

The set hails from L.A. where they’ve been ice cream trucking for almost two years. Their premise is simple: clients book the truck at events such as celeb parties, raves, kids birthdays, magazine openings, or bar mitzvahs, and Layla and Ben give out free, tasty ice cream.

The duo now has four trucks doling out the summertime favorite and plan to take a couple of them to London and Japan shortly. They stock their trucks—formerly mail trucks—with specialty ice creams from around the globe. Their most popular treats are non-dairy pops like Rice Dream and Tofutti’s. Mochi (the Japanese ice cream orbs) is also another favorite.

Layla and Ben decided to come to New York after their success in L.A. in an attempt to “test their market” before they franchise the biz. Thus far, New York has “embraced them more than L.A.,” and Layla has been impressed with how kind and welcoming everyone in the big city has been. Indeed, as the Dish girls cruised up to the truck on our bikes, there was was Richie Rich—famed club kid extraordinaire—smiling and chatting up the ‘scream team.

But how could any ice cream loving New Yorker not adore them? Layla wears the cutest pink outfits—all glitter and sparkles—and Ben hangs back to watch his pretty princess in action. They are bold when they need to be: once even convincing police officers to let them spread their frozen love without a proper permit. But mostly, they are all sweet and cream.

The name, Heartschallenger, came to Layla in a dream, which turned out to be quite the lucrative premonition. The rate for the truck varies depending on the event, but the two seem to have a fairly negotiable, I-scream-you-scream attitude.

Visit their website to hear the music of their band, Heartsrevolution, and to read all about how the two fell in love, and ultimately decided to spread love through ice cream and house beats.

Fruit Floes

You may have guessed the Dish’s affinity for popsicles by now, and most recently, the Trader Joe’s Fruit Floes in strawberry and lime have caught the Dish’s fancy.

They are refreshingly natural, with no preservatives or artificial colors. Strawberry even has chunks of the real stuff throughout the pop. Lime is tart and tangy with a mod green countenance.

Mix them in the blender with a little alcohol for daiquiris or margaritas. Or, use them as a base for fruit smoothies by adding yogurt, banana, and blueberries for a little antioxidant boost.

With $5 per pack (there’s six in a pack), the pops—in every form—are certainly a must-lick for any hot summer day.

Oko is Oh-So-Good!

The Dish team trekked out to Park Slope a few weeks ago to get the scoop—actually a swirl—on Öko, the latest frozen yogurt joint to pop up in New York this season.

The Öko difference is that everything—from spoon to wall to counter—is green, as in environmentally friendly. The walls are compressed sunflower seeds; the spoons are potato starch; and the plates are composed of processed corn. The other difference is that this fro-yo is made from Greek yogurt, which makes it low in fat and high in flavor.

We mixed the original flavor and the wildberry, and topped the blend with kiwi, mango, and blueberry. Other toppers included dried cranberries, coconut, and almonds. The yogurt is superb; it has a tangy, rich taste that lingers even after you’ve finished your bowl. It’s a little less damage to your wallet than Pinkberry, but don’t forget to take into account the $4 metro trip.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Soto

Live lobster sashimi and surprisingly sweet ikura are remarkable at Soto. I could say that either one was the best bite I’ve had all year. So to eat them both in one fell swoop made for an unforgettable meal.

There was a torrential rainstorm on the night that my party dined. Coming to Soto was a serene escape with its sleek, vibrant design and calming atmosphere. The food was much like the atmosphere: simultaneously invigorating and soothing.

The live lobster that wowed me was marinated in ginger and soy, and topped with yuzu kimizu–a citrus-y Japanese hollandaise—and osetra caviar. The texture of the fish was refreshing, and the caviar luxurious. The ikura (just a simple piece of sushi) was the sweetest I’ve had. In addition, the briny, metallic taste so often detected in salmon roe was absent.

However, those weren’t the only standouts on the menu for me. The special sushi roll of the day (the tuna tartare roll) packed with chopped tuna, avocado, burdock, shiso, and spicy sauce was wrapped in white seaweed and delicious. The shima aji carpaccio, twelve thin slices of tuna, was drizzled with ginger-truffle soy sauce for a delicate delight. Both the salmon citrus and the Scottish salmon dishes were spectacular, and very different. The citrus version, with scallion, cilantro, and sudachi jus was the enlivening dish, while the Scottish counterpart had a gentle, comforting taste. Langoustine and cooked lobster made memorable appearances on the menu (and on our plates) as well, combining sweet and savory flavors like shiitake and mango.

Hailing from Atlanta, Sotohiro Kosugi seems to have brought his fan-base with him. Devoted followers are crowding the sushi bar for the flawless slivers of impeccable fish.

Located on a busy, messy strip of Sixth Avenue, the site of this new sushi destination is Soto’s only misstep. Nonetheless, you won’t regret walking in through the windy wooden and rock entrance where you’ll be transported into Sotohiro’s immaculate, crustaceous world.

Tra-La-La-ing

Since I first explored the Essex Market in the lower east side in 2003, it has come a long, long way. What was once something that seemed like a mere collection of bodegas beneath one roof is now a fully developed, full-service, funky group of specialty markets.

Ann Saxelby Cheesemongers pioneered the move into the market in 2005, and now people like Kenny Shopsin are following.

Our favorite recent arrival is Tra La La, a juice bar and muffin stand. The Blue Monkey is by far the best blueberry-banana muffin the Dish team has tasted. Arrive at almost anytime to find the muffin makers pulling a fresh batch out of the oven.

Wash it down with any of the fresh-juiced fruit and vegetable combos for the freshest start in the neighborhood.

Forbidden Rice

Lotus Foods is producing lines of rice from around the globe. Each rice has a unique flavor, texture, and color. Rice from Bhutan, China, and Bengal make for interesting and satisfying dishes in and of themselves.

The Dish favorite was the Chinese black rice, called Forbidden Rice. Its nutty taste, purple-black coloring, and soft texture make it the perfect rice for both hot and cold dishes. Mix it with toasted almonds, dried cranberries, and flat-leaf parsley for a spectacular cold salad. If it’s hot rice you want, toss the black grains with shredded duck, sesame seeds, and sesame-oil-sautéed carrots.

The Forbidden Rice is also perfectly tasty the next day (and the next day!). Simply add a little water before you reheat it if you want it hot. Or mix your extra rice with eggs, roll into balls, coat with breadcrumbs or panko, and fry in oil until they are crispy on the outside. Serve piping hot with soy or ponzu sauce for dipping.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

First Food Regret


I try everything. I’m not even the least bit picky. Of course I have many preferences, but there’s not too much that I flat out will not eat. I relish enjoying the weird stuff, and I aspire to like it. At my summer camp where many of the counselors were Australians, I bragged about my adoration for the salty, smelly Vegemite and Marmite that they’d bring to the breakfast table each morning.

Later in life, when I started eating sushi, I was always testing the limits with octopus and eel and sea urchin. All of those strange new textures seemed—and still are—so much fun.


So when I was in Vietnam last year, silkworm larvae didn’t seem like such a bad idea considering my penchant for freaky foods. Little did I know that after masticating the mushy pod of grey gunk, I’d made the first food mistake of my life. I tried something so grotesque that I was almost physically ill at the mere mention of it for days following the taste test.


The situation started as many of my culinary adventures start: at a local Saigon restaurant, I instructed my Vietnamese friend to order whatever he liked. I promised him that nothing would be too much for me and that I truly enjoyed trying anything new. He was excited for the prospects and soon plates on fascinating dishes were appearing in front of us. A bowl of grayish-brown oval pods arrived in front of me. Wow! I thought. I’d never seen anything like them! I looked around the restaurant and everyone was popping them in their mouths like popcorn.


I followed the protocol and did the same. First, the outer shell—a soft exoskeleton tasting case—burst on first bite; then, a soggy interior starting to spread through my mouth. It tasted like mildew and lint and the inside of a vacuum cleaner. This strange bland taste of horribleness took over; I could barely swallow but managed to do it in minimal bites after I realized what was happening as I chewed.


As if the actual act of eating this thing wasn’t enough, when I’d finished and washed it down with loads or rice and frantic (but polite) gulps of water, just thinking about any nanosecond of the occurrence was enough to induce a gag reflex.






That was a bad experience. They are gross! Then again, it’s just my opinion, and you never know: if you tried them, maybe you’d be popping them like popcorn, too!







First Anticipated Meal in NYC




Tired of the Barnard cafeteria one week into freshman year, I frantically called relatives and city friends to dine out, doing anything I could to save myself from rubber pizza and processed cold cuts.


A good friend lived downtown, and I suggested we go to Japonica, a restaurant about which I’d read in New York Magazine the previous year, known for having a beautiful sushi roll topped with edible flowers. She’d been to the restaurant many times and affirmed its deliciousness.


My first impression was that it had a decidedly neighborhood atmosphere —something I hadn’t expected in a New York Mag-featured spot. The meal also measured up to city-renowned status. The Madame Butterfly Roll (the flower roll) was everything I’d anticipated.

First Memorable Food Experience




I distinctly remember tasting something magical when I was in the eighth grade. I was in Hawaii with my junior high best friend. One night, her dad and step-mom had us meet them at a seaside restaurant. Looking out into the Pacific, we gathered around a wicker table. My friend’s father ordered a dozen oysters—something I’d never had. Of course, all of my sophisticated hosts had eaten them before, and were excited for me to partake. The freezing cold saucer arrived and the waiter placed it in the center of the table. Everyone explained the mignonette, the horseradish, the cocktail sauce, and the lemon wedge. I dressed mine simply with lemon as was suggested. They pantomimed the ritual: raising bivalve to the mouth, easing the meat from the shell, and then slurping it down. I did just that and woooosh! A burst of the ocean was sliding down my throat. It was exhilarating. The creamy texture matched against the salty water in which it rested. I was hooked.