Downtown from Behind

As a resident of Downtown Manhattan, it's given that I immediately connected with Downtown from Behind. Check out the blog that gives reason to check out cute derrieres!

Brasserie Les Halles-Financial District

The oppressive triple digit heat that has been sweeping Manhattan for the past week has turned us into lazy Southern Gentlemen- laying back, sipping cool cocktails. Last night, a bottle of Rose bubbly dripping from the ice bucket seemed the only solution in continuing to forge through the wave. We settled into the slightly crammed (let's be generous and say: intimate) layout of tables, vaulted ceilings and amber lights at Brasserie Les Halles.

The bar keep seemed disinterested and did not refill our draining glasses-- but the swooping red, white and blue fabric added charm- as well the reminder of Bastille Day approaching. We had planned to stay for small plates, but there was clearly no air conditioning- a detail- noted from our own discomfort, as well the surrounding tables of patrons methodically wiping the sweat from their brows. (I'll return for steak frites on a cooler day).


Image: NY Mag

lower manhattan, a photo series

salud fedora

puma city

derrieres

meet residential

pork

pearl diner

instruction

hendrick's

a dinner at Delmonico's

We stepped into the rain and snagged a discarded whiteboard for cover as we dashed one block to Delmonicos. Opened in 1831, the restaurant is the country's first fine dining venue. Brag-worthy credits to the restaurant for being the birthplace of Lobster Newburg, Eggs Benedict and Baked Alaska. Although Delmonico's began as a French restaurant, it now classified a steak spot.

Time Out New York has the vibe to a tee: In fact, it seems pretty clear that Delmonico’s patrons neither know nor care who’s running the kitchen. If bankers still gather there for conspiratorial powwows, it’s surely only out of habit or convenience. The dining room was half empty on recent visits, and the blasé waiters—in burgundy vests that match the wall-to-wall carpeting—seem accustomed to doing little.

To eat, we ordered the Delmonico's Steak for Two with asparagus and an order of the twice fried french fries. After dining at Mark Joseph the previous evening, the steak simply could not compare! Grisly and lacking in flavor, the meat seemed to aim to fill the stomach of the kitschy banker, rather than to satisfy the palate of a foody. The asparagus was quite wonderful- firm and a bit juicy- it came decorated with Parmesan baked into crispy over-sized flakes. The twice fried french fries were about what you'd expect and came in a decent portion of sharing. Kudos to the friendly bar keep who brought me snacks, and his lovely lady counterpart who mentioned to me that she thought I was pretty!


Images: travel(dot)webshots(dot)com

a dinner at Mark Joseph

Noted for the "spattering of wise guys," Mark Joseph Steakhouse is tucked around the corner of Peck Slip, in the Downtown Manhattan's South Street Seaport. Slightly empty and overly air-conditioned, we tucked ourselves into a table for what is noted as the city's best steak. Co-owned by a former Peter Luger man, the onion rolls coupled with the simplicity of the menu speak to the inspired charm. We ordered a bottle of 2006 Zinfandel from Napa and a few slabs of the signature Canadian Bacon. Thick cut and sizzling, we dipped the meat in the tangy house sauce, per the suggestion of our waiter.

Our second course, the Hearts of Lettuce with Tomato, also comes recommended for your succession of courses. The chef chopped and split the salad- offering us two boats of dressing- from scratch blue cheese and Italian. I leaned to the blue cheese which is pitch perfect with hearty chunks of cheese.

And the star: Porterhouse for two. This is arguably the largest plate that has ever been placed before me. The waiter selected pieces of filet- noting the savagely hot plate as an avenue of cooking your meat longer. The dish is served dripping in its own sizzling and buttery fat. It's amazing. We couldn't possibly have finished it.



Images: NY Mag, Roadfood(dot)com

Financial Morning, a photo series

vests

cortlandt

groundzerorising.tumblr.com

geometric division

approach

Good Friday, a photo series

4th Avenue

New Hair

Brothers & Hands

Pairs

Chop Lines

Nassau Truck

Cubano Corner

Limited Legs

Zone

Flight

ground zero rising

chain link

take cocktails at Libertine

My affection for hotel bars (Thompson in particular) has been further cemented with my introduction to The Libertine. Mahogany, caramel leather and colonial accents define the modern English tavern within the Gild Hall Hotel. The few times I've been in, I've sipped either Moet or a Ketel martini with a twist- noticing the dominantly male clientele and Thomas Crown chess den.


The menu is vaguely British inspired food, but classified as Nouveau American with Kobe beef hot dog, Fish and Chips with malt vinegar aioli and Devils on Horseback.

Other Thompson Hotel Bars you may be interested in:
Smyth, Thom Bar & Kittichai.

Images: NYMAG

a brunch at Harry's

Weekend brunch is an essential pleasure in my diary. Having been partial to the company kept at a certain bar that burned down this past week- I found myself a bit apprehensive that the group of vintage film discussing comrades would be divided. We met at Haru for happy hour and decided that Harry's in Hanover Square would be our new spot, until further notice. The Saturday menu offers unlimited champagne themed cocktails with any entree.


Collectively, we sipped Kir Royales. Harry himself came out to greet us- a move that impressed me greatly- as this gentle tycoon controls most of the Downtown dining scene (that's worth mentioning). To eat: gorgeous thick cut french toast with fresh raspberries, strawberries and blueberries and the Eggs Benny Florentine with a side of bacon. Both entrees are a steal at $14 (with the unlimited cocktails included). The detail in the dishes is quite lovely with crisp and colorful bell peppers and firm lemon zest in decorating the textures present. I'm in love. Read more at the New York Times.


Images: Harry's Website

The Open Door Gastropub

I'm beginning to think John Street is giving Stone Street a bit of competition- between recently opened Bonchon and my introduction to The Open Door Gastropub- I'm no longer as temped to lazily avoid better venues in further neighborhoods. We shuffled in at 1:00am with little confidence in food- thinking a few cocktails and a deli sandwich would suffice. A massive bouncer approached and requested my ID as he shuffled us to a place at the bar. He waved my lisense under a candle then apologized as he returned it- not requesting my bearded partner's.


We mulled over the list of libations- noting with a hearty chuckle that over half of the beers were misspelled. I selected the Spicy Cucumber Margarita. The cocktail came served up and compromised of Tanteo jalapeno tequila, fresh lime, agave nectar, muddled cucumber and a jalapeno garnish. The blend proved refreshing and could have bit more on the spicy side- but certainly even keeled enough to sip more than one. My partner indulged in a few of the adorably misspelled beers: Palm and the Dogfish Head 120 minute IPA. The 120 came served in a wine glass and earned its $20 price tag with each sultry, hoppy sip.

The victory came with: a gorgeously detailed menu of dishes still being served at this hour (full menu, minus the entrees). We selected the Truffled Blue Cheese Fries with tomatoes, scallions, cilantro, melted Gorgonzola and drizzled with white truffle oil. The heaping plate satisfied our palates while a middle aged group of men took Jager shots and lone soldier at the other end of the bar sang/clapped to the bartender's personal mix of tunes. Serpico played on two TVs overhead and a rousing snowball fight commenced on John Street.


images: from my iPhone.

Downtown to Brooklyn, a photo series

Union at 4th Avenue.

No they do not.

"Look at these abz"

Sunk Wall at William: 1

Sunk Wall at William: 2

Fulton Street.

Bin No. 220

Slipping down the cobblestone path of the South Street Seaport, we found ourselves taking a few seats along the bar at Bin No. 220. Warm red lights and bottles line the walls, low chattering patrons scattered in nooks. The menu is simple and lovely: cured meats, olive and truffle oil flights with bread- The bar keep gingerly apologized for asking me a question while I was Shazaming a song.

The menus come in paper bags, a humbling detail, n'est-ce pas? I sipped on the Blanc de Sers 2005. The glass was crisp with sweet hints of peach and herb. Small cards are provided to mark the wine you drink, including spaces for the vintage and notes. This detail communicates: come in, enjoy and take the experience with you.

Smyth Hotel Bar

I continued to feed my curiosity for hotel bars last night: Smyth is a stone's throw from my apartment, in Tribeca- lending the spot to tempt my patronage. Upon entering, I felt a bit discouraged: slightly sterile, much too open with the grossly exposed bar-

I decided to forgive for the exchange of a seat in one of the side nooks. As well, the tiled detail in the vaulted and curved ceiling is quite sleek and modern. I regret not sampling their signature cocktail list, but the prosecco was ideal for the evening's agenda. The bar keep maintained excellent service- ensuring that the glasses before the patrons were never empty.

Image: J'adore Magazine

a lunch at SoHo Park

While I was only craving espresso, the prospect of soup and a warm place to camp out, brought SoHo Park into good thoughts. The buzzing venue offers rapid service at the walk-up counter. Despite the full bar + temptation of bourbon to line my shivering ribs, I opted for a skim cappuccino and the house roasted tomato soup. My company ventured to the Caesar salad with a fountain coke.


We snagged a few raised chairs at a long, communal table. The couple next to us offered to move over to lend more space. My piping hot cappuccino and soup forced me to sip with much care, a detail I didn't mind as I defrosted shedding my winter coat, hat, gloves and scarf. The finishing touches are what make SoHo Park: buttery croutons topping my soup, cinnamon on the coffee. I will certainly step through the doors again. The burgers and Belgian style frites look amazing!

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