New York: Red Rooster (Guest Post!)
November's been a rather slow month for me. I blame law school. It always manages to suck the fun out of everything. And I really do mean everything.
So when my New York liaison (aka one of my two closest high school friends who my mother dubbed Nana when she requested a Chinese nickname and who is currently in the process of getting her Masters in playwriting at Columbia) texted me to tell me that she was dining at Red Rooster and that she actually met Marcus Samuelsson there, I had to fight off my usual inclination toward bitterness and be happy for her.
Then my thoughts took a selfish turn and my next reaction was GUEST POST! So without ado, Nana's debut on No Shame!
(Reading this made me really miss you, Nana. Can't wait to see you over Thanksgiving! Baltimore won't even know what hit them by the time we're through.)
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
A couple of weeks ago, my department went out for a retirement luncheon for our beloved Edmund. (He wasn't really retiring from Columbia altogether, he just saw his only chance of escape from our department and took it.) We have this go-to restaurant that we take everyone to, for just about everything (the entirely un-bloggable Bistro Ten18), but our resident foodie suggested we check out Marcus Samuelsson's latest venture, Red Rooster:
(Our foodie, Keith, is the one in the grey hat. I'm positive he and Amy would be kindred stomachs.)
Located in the heart of Harlem, this place claims to fuse the comfort of soul food, with the flavors of the diverse neighborhoods that make Harlem so special. I, praise Jesus, had the opportunity to pick out the menu (because, as many people already know, I am quite the picky eater). I decided that instead of individual dishes, it would be better to have a lot more food options and just serve it family style. We're just as dysfunctional as any self-respecting family can get, so I knew this wouldn't be a problem.
Here is the final menu:
I unfortunately didn't immediately think to take pictures of the food before everyone dug in. First off, I don't write a blog, seeing as how I loathe them (Except this one. Amy is family. And one must pay the price, suck it up, and read the blogs of family); and secondly, I hate to look any tiny bit like a tourist, wherever I am. (Except, of course with Amy. Well, I actually do still hate it when she pulls out that damn camera, but I've now resorted to just rolling my eyes and looking pleadingly at the patrons around me.) This is all to say, forgive the crap pictures. And the missing pictures. And the poorly staged food. Hey, I did what I could considering my insane quirks.
We started off with the cornbread, which was good. Though it wasn't out there, it was very reminiscent of home-style cornbread. What made it good, though, was the honey butter. I'm pretty sure the consensus around the table was if given a pound of that butter, we'd either eat it all or rub it all over ourselves. Believe me. You'd feel the exact same way. The other topping for the cornbread was this delicious salsa thing. I call it a salsa thing because it looked like salsa, it smelled like salsa, and sorta tasted like salsa, but was called tomato jam. Wouldn't rub it all over myself, but would definitely throw it on an English Muffin.
We were then served our salads. Da. Lish. I enjoy none of the ingredients listed in the salad. (Except cauliflower. I lurve cauliflower.) But, being surprisingly game to try anything, I ate all of it. And I wanted more.
Once the dishes were cleared, we were served our main courses. First up was the Yard Bird:
This is Staged Picture #1. Because the Yard Bird (which I love to say) was actually 4 plates piled high with about 8-9 pieces of the biggest thighs and legs of probably the most 'roided up bird you'll ever meet. I will never again eat another bird that doesn't come from a yard. The greens were fine, but the Yard Bird was sooooo crispy, soooo tender, sooo juicy, sooooo meaty, and soooo flavorful. Best. Yard Bird. Ever. They also served little bowls of some spicy sauce (that were not at all spicy, even by Amy's standards) but it really wasn't needed for this clearly stand-alone bird.
Next up, and not to be out-shined, were the plethora of sides. We had Mac & Greens (Staged Picture #2):
Then the Mashed Potatoes (Staged Picture #3):
Followed by the Truffle Fries (Poorly Staged Picture #4):
The Mac & Greens were fantastic. You could really taste the gouda and the sharpness of the cheddar. It was creamy without being too soggy. And they use orecchiette noodles that carried with it the perfect amount of sauce. As for the greens? Pretty sure they were just there for decoration.
The Mashed Potatoes were equally fantastic. They were smooth, and I think I tasted a hint of sour cream or cream cheese or something milky and tarty like that. (I myself like to put this ingredient in my mashed potatoes. Probably not the only thing Marcus and I have in common. All I'm sayin'.)
The last side, the Truffle Fries, were also fantastic. ( I apologize for my over use of the word "fantastic." I currently do not own a thesaurus. I will also take this time to apologize for my overuse of the parenthetical. There are quite a few voices in this head fighting to have their opinion heard.) The fries were so crispy, and sprinkled with Parmesan cheese. I will never again eat fries that aren't cooked in truffle oil. That's probably a lie.
And as if we didn't already have enough to eat, we were served dessert:
Now, I had the option to choose the Sweet Potato donuts or the Spiced Pumpkin Cake, but seeing as how I despise sweet potatoes, I opted for the pumpkin dessert, justifying myself with the "it's a seasonal dessert so I had to pick that one" argument. Let me tell you that there was nary an uncleared plate, no matter how many declared their limited stomach capacity just moments before. If it were proper etiquette to lick one's plate, I am certain the group would have done so. I most certainly would have.
As if the food wasn't good enough, the restaurant was just overall spectacular. The decor, the open feel, the kitchen, everything was incredible. There was this picture that a coworker and I were staring at:
And little did we know that at the very table next to us, was the little girl being drawn, now an older woman. I've always thought Norman Rockwell was the quintessential American artist (well, next to Keith Haring) and to witness his own inspiration sitting at a table next to us, eating soul food from a man who claims New York as always being his home, and dining in the heart of such an important American neighborhood, it all sort of made me feel somewhat...patriotic. And considering all the mumbo-jumbo currently going on in the States, it's nice to get that feeling apart from a major holiday/anniversary.
It was all in all an amazing lunch. To spend time with your coworkers and friends outside of the stressful environment of the workplace, and to enjoy good food, we actually all had such a wonderful time. (And there wasn't even any booze.)
Oh, yeah. And having Marcus Samuelsson, in the flesh, come to our table to talk with us for a few minutes wasn't too bad either. ;)
Red Rooster
310 Lenox Ave
New York, NY 10027
(212) 792-9001
http://redroosterharlem.com/
So when my New York liaison (aka one of my two closest high school friends who my mother dubbed Nana when she requested a Chinese nickname and who is currently in the process of getting her Masters in playwriting at Columbia) texted me to tell me that she was dining at Red Rooster and that she actually met Marcus Samuelsson there, I had to fight off my usual inclination toward bitterness and be happy for her.
Then my thoughts took a selfish turn and my next reaction was GUEST POST! So without ado, Nana's debut on No Shame!
(Reading this made me really miss you, Nana. Can't wait to see you over Thanksgiving! Baltimore won't even know what hit them by the time we're through.)
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
A couple of weeks ago, my department went out for a retirement luncheon for our beloved Edmund. (He wasn't really retiring from Columbia altogether, he just saw his only chance of escape from our department and took it.) We have this go-to restaurant that we take everyone to, for just about everything (the entirely un-bloggable Bistro Ten18), but our resident foodie suggested we check out Marcus Samuelsson's latest venture, Red Rooster:
(Our foodie, Keith, is the one in the grey hat. I'm positive he and Amy would be kindred stomachs.)
Located in the heart of Harlem, this place claims to fuse the comfort of soul food, with the flavors of the diverse neighborhoods that make Harlem so special. I, praise Jesus, had the opportunity to pick out the menu (because, as many people already know, I am quite the picky eater). I decided that instead of individual dishes, it would be better to have a lot more food options and just serve it family style. We're just as dysfunctional as any self-respecting family can get, so I knew this wouldn't be a problem.
Here is the final menu:
I unfortunately didn't immediately think to take pictures of the food before everyone dug in. First off, I don't write a blog, seeing as how I loathe them (Except this one. Amy is family. And one must pay the price, suck it up, and read the blogs of family); and secondly, I hate to look any tiny bit like a tourist, wherever I am. (Except, of course with Amy. Well, I actually do still hate it when she pulls out that damn camera, but I've now resorted to just rolling my eyes and looking pleadingly at the patrons around me.) This is all to say, forgive the crap pictures. And the missing pictures. And the poorly staged food. Hey, I did what I could considering my insane quirks.
We started off with the cornbread, which was good. Though it wasn't out there, it was very reminiscent of home-style cornbread. What made it good, though, was the honey butter. I'm pretty sure the consensus around the table was if given a pound of that butter, we'd either eat it all or rub it all over ourselves. Believe me. You'd feel the exact same way. The other topping for the cornbread was this delicious salsa thing. I call it a salsa thing because it looked like salsa, it smelled like salsa, and sorta tasted like salsa, but was called tomato jam. Wouldn't rub it all over myself, but would definitely throw it on an English Muffin.
We were then served our salads. Da. Lish. I enjoy none of the ingredients listed in the salad. (Except cauliflower. I lurve cauliflower.) But, being surprisingly game to try anything, I ate all of it. And I wanted more.
Once the dishes were cleared, we were served our main courses. First up was the Yard Bird:
This is Staged Picture #1. Because the Yard Bird (which I love to say) was actually 4 plates piled high with about 8-9 pieces of the biggest thighs and legs of probably the most 'roided up bird you'll ever meet. I will never again eat another bird that doesn't come from a yard. The greens were fine, but the Yard Bird was sooooo crispy, soooo tender, sooo juicy, sooooo meaty, and soooo flavorful. Best. Yard Bird. Ever. They also served little bowls of some spicy sauce (that were not at all spicy, even by Amy's standards) but it really wasn't needed for this clearly stand-alone bird.
Next up, and not to be out-shined, were the plethora of sides. We had Mac & Greens (Staged Picture #2):
Then the Mashed Potatoes (Staged Picture #3):
Followed by the Truffle Fries (Poorly Staged Picture #4):
The Mac & Greens were fantastic. You could really taste the gouda and the sharpness of the cheddar. It was creamy without being too soggy. And they use orecchiette noodles that carried with it the perfect amount of sauce. As for the greens? Pretty sure they were just there for decoration.
The Mashed Potatoes were equally fantastic. They were smooth, and I think I tasted a hint of sour cream or cream cheese or something milky and tarty like that. (I myself like to put this ingredient in my mashed potatoes. Probably not the only thing Marcus and I have in common. All I'm sayin'.)
The last side, the Truffle Fries, were also fantastic. ( I apologize for my over use of the word "fantastic." I currently do not own a thesaurus. I will also take this time to apologize for my overuse of the parenthetical. There are quite a few voices in this head fighting to have their opinion heard.) The fries were so crispy, and sprinkled with Parmesan cheese. I will never again eat fries that aren't cooked in truffle oil. That's probably a lie.
And as if we didn't already have enough to eat, we were served dessert:
Now, I had the option to choose the Sweet Potato donuts or the Spiced Pumpkin Cake, but seeing as how I despise sweet potatoes, I opted for the pumpkin dessert, justifying myself with the "it's a seasonal dessert so I had to pick that one" argument. Let me tell you that there was nary an uncleared plate, no matter how many declared their limited stomach capacity just moments before. If it were proper etiquette to lick one's plate, I am certain the group would have done so. I most certainly would have.
As if the food wasn't good enough, the restaurant was just overall spectacular. The decor, the open feel, the kitchen, everything was incredible. There was this picture that a coworker and I were staring at:
And little did we know that at the very table next to us, was the little girl being drawn, now an older woman. I've always thought Norman Rockwell was the quintessential American artist (well, next to Keith Haring) and to witness his own inspiration sitting at a table next to us, eating soul food from a man who claims New York as always being his home, and dining in the heart of such an important American neighborhood, it all sort of made me feel somewhat...patriotic. And considering all the mumbo-jumbo currently going on in the States, it's nice to get that feeling apart from a major holiday/anniversary.
It was all in all an amazing lunch. To spend time with your coworkers and friends outside of the stressful environment of the workplace, and to enjoy good food, we actually all had such a wonderful time. (And there wasn't even any booze.)
Oh, yeah. And having Marcus Samuelsson, in the flesh, come to our table to talk with us for a few minutes wasn't too bad either. ;)
Red Rooster
310 Lenox Ave
New York, NY 10027
(212) 792-9001
http://redroosterharlem.com/
A welcome change-up from "MMso good", "Mm FATTY". Now we get "FANTASTIC" and "DA LISH".
ReplyDeleteLove it! :)