The Park

Last weekend, I took my mom to The Park for brunch...

While the food was fairly standard, I must say that the space is phenomenal. At a time when so many restaurants are opting for minimal and modern, The Park is wild and exciting. The main dining room is spacious and organic, filled with a National Geographic decor and a vibrant bar. And then of course there is the Garden, which is more than just your average garden. It is an enclosed jungle, covered in twinkle lights. It's obvious that The Park is a late night hot spot.

That being said: the food. I had a bowl of Gazpacho ($6) and a Caesar Salad with Grilled Chicken ($10). I know, boring choices. My apologies. The Gazpacho was quite good, although it was quite wet and lacked enough raw vegetables to make it exciting. And the salad was your standard run of the mill Caesar. My mom on the other hand had the Crab Cake Benedict ($14) which looked quite good.

While I will not be going back to The Park anytime soon for food, I will certainly make a point to return in the near future for a fun night of debauchery.


THE PARK
118 Tenth Avenue
(near 17th Street)
(212) 352-3313 Read More!

Mercat

Despite all that transpired after my recent meal at Mercat in NoHo, I must say that the restaurant's Catalan cuisine was some of the best that I've had, maybe even comparable to some of Barcelona's notable hot spots.

We started off with the cheese platter (3 for $14, 5 for $20) which came with an assortment Catalan cheeses. We chose to go for the larger platter, which paired together two goat cheeses, two sheep cheeses as well as a mixed cheese: Garrotxa (a semi-firm goat cheese with a milky flavor and a delicate hint of nuttiness), Caña de Cabra (a creamy and mild goat cheese), Manchego (a nutty, sweet, and tangy semi-firm sheep's milk cheese), Idiazabal (a smokey yet nutty firm sheep's milk cheese), and La Peral (a blue cheese that resembles an Italian Gorgonzola, with a nice olive flavor).

That plate was accompanied by an assortment of meats (Assortiment d’Embotits for $24). In my opinion it was an excellent pairing of four different Spanish meats: Pernil Serrano, Morcilla (a Spanish blood sausage, probably my least favorite), Llonganissa (a thin dry-cured Spanish sausage), Sobrassada (a raw cured sausage), and Xoriç.

We then transformed the remainder of our meal into a tapas-style feast...

First we ordered Croquetes de Gamba ($7), which were croquettes with shrimp and spinach. Despite their small size, these really packed a punch. They were fried to perfection and tasted absolutely amazing – the spinach to cheese ratio was absolutely flawless.

That was followed by another enjoyable appetizer: Bombas ($9), which were chicken, pork and beef meatballs in an aioli sauce. Initially I was concerned about the mixture. My untrained palate had no idea that the combination would be so good.

Finally, we ordered Trencat d'Ous ($13), which was a mixture of sliced onions, fried eggs and salsa verde. It was very good, but I found it to be the least enjoyable of the last three plates.

In terms of wine and liquor at Mercat, it was all quite good. The wine list was impressive, the cocktails were mixed to perfection. Although we were quite shocked to find that they were unable to provide us with a single bottle of port. Still, everything was quite satisfying. Too satisfying. I learned my lesson though.













MERCAT
45 Bond Street
(between Bowery and Lafayette)
(212) 529-8600 Read More!

Alone?

It’s Wednesday evening. My apartment is eerily quiet tonight, since my one roommate is studying for an Orgo final at the library, while the other one is seeing “God of Carnage” uptown. And me? I’m curled up on the couch, watching Family Guy, with my best friend: Bombay Sapphire with tonic, and a splash of lime.

With each sip, I kept thinking of my father. It’s almost been two years since I last saw him. Two years since I last heard his voice. He died on the final night of my freshman year of college. Right after he and my mom settled in for the night, he had a massive heart attack. Just a few minutes after midnight, my father was pronounced dead.

Around 2:00 a.m., the R.A. on duty pounded on my door. I was fast asleep, having nightmares about my French final scheduled for later that day. I opened the door, and there she stood with a man from N.Y.U. Public Safety.

"Beau," she said. "You need to give your mom a call."

Before I even reached my cell phone, I knew. But I kept going, and dialed. My mom answered the phone. Her voice had always been so strong and fearless. Tonight it was different. It sounded empty. Alone.

"Sweetie, I need to tell you something," she said; she was crying. My heart started beating faster. I began shaking. "Your dad, he passed away tonight."

And that was when my world fell apart.

Bombay Sapphire had been his favorite drink for years, and even after he finally stopped drinking when my older brother was born, he always kept a bottle prominently displayed in our liquor cabinet, despite the fact that he never actually offered it to anyone. To this day, it remains unopened.

"It's the best," he told me once. "Just look at it."

He always loved the bottle, the light blue sparkling gem with a portrait of Queen Victoria displayed prominently in the center of the white label. Even now, I can see a bottle sparkling on my kitchen counter top.

The first bottle of liquor that I ever bought – legally that is – was a bottle of Bombay. I had just turned 21 years old, and I found myself wandering around Warehouse Wines & Liquor on Broadway near N.Y.U. For some reason, I was very stressed. I had no idea what I would choose for my very first legal purchase. Then I saw it. It was beautiful. The sun was coming in through the window, and it truly looked like a sapphire, perched atop the gin shelf. It was expensive, but I bought it.

A month later, the same bottle is still in my kitchen. There is still more than half a bottle since I save it for lonely nights, when I need a friend to cheer me up. Tonight is one of those nights. Despite the fact that my apartment is silent, besides the voices coming from the television, I know that my father is here with me tonight. And with my final sip, I suddenly don’t feel so alone anymore. Read More!