15 May 2008
A longer night in the city, and a forced ride on the F- and I didn't want to walk much further for my late dinner.
aji opened this past week in Park Slope, quasi sexy- from the outside, the inside exhibits exposed brick a yellowing light and a high ceiling.
I sat at the bar and ordered a sangria, ($3 on special that evening). Strangely warm (Is that a Peruvian/Argentinian thing? Because Coco Roco serves it cold...)
I took stock of the other offerings, six beers on tap from Bud Light, a few micros and the 'highest brow,' they carried: Chimay Bleu. I looked through the brief menu, which seemed to have one small selection of daily items and another page of chef picks.
I asked the bartender what she would recommend, "The Empanadas are pretty good, and I had the Jaleita yesterday, I don't know, it was really good." Yikes. At least the service was more attentive/less abrasive than Coco Roco.
About 15 minutes after I ordered, a pile of deep fried seafood was plopped in front of me, as well a small dish a corn-nut tasting snacks. I stared down, then precariously tasted what is described as: "deep fried shrimp, calamari & fish with yuca surrounded with onions and spices." On that note, I typically prefer to avoid vague descriptions such as "fish," What kind of fish? I'm fairly certain that even the staff at aji did not know the answer to this question. Also- the seafood was very obviously previously frozen. I don't think I would have decided to go past the first few bites if I wasn't a little buzzed and ravenously hungry-
I looked to the corner and noticed a wine chiller, that was set 7 degrees below the standard. Good luck hanging in there, aji.