Veritasty: Truthfully Delicious

Am I allowed to blog about something I ate without Alex photographing by my side?!?!?!  YES Last night, I went to a Japanese place near St. Mark's called Sobaya for a middle school reunion (hi, guys!).  The place was really popular judging by the long wait for a table and the diversity of the crowd seated inside (many looked like tourists from abroad). I was intrigued by the fact that, when we finally sat down, the manager himself came to take our orders!  Turns out I needed his direction because I was pretty unfamiliar with sorts of Japanese noodles.  Soba, as I learned is a relatively thin noodle made of buckwheat.  Contrast that with udon, which is a thicker, chewier noodle.  Sobaya serves both, but the manager nudged us in the right direction by asking us to consider that the restaurant is named after one, but not both, noodles. The presentation of the food was beautiful in its simplicity. My bowl of noodles was glimmering black and white: black from the

Can you imagine a world without bacon?  Without cheeseburgers?  Without bacon cheeseburgers?  Without shrimp-broccoli-walnut?? If you follow the rules of kashrut (a.k.a. if you keep kosher), chances are your world doesn't include the delights of pork, shellfish, or meat and cheese antipasti. I work in a hospital that is 100% kosher - from the food in the staff cafeterias to the meals for patients - and I have been fascinated by the intricate rules of Jewish dietary law.  I obviously am not an expert, but I've made several interesting observations and discussed practices with my Orthodox Jewish colleagues. In the bible, there is are loads of passages prohibiting loads of different things.  One of the main things we hear about is that you can't mix meat and dairy (specifically: you can't boil a kid [baby goat] in it's mother's milk...very interesting parable).  That means no cheeseburgers or pepperoni pizzas or bacon-egg-and-cheese-bagels!  Then, yo

You know a place is good when you're standing outside, waiting for your fellow diners, and you overhear passersby saying things like, "This is my favorite ____ place!"  This was the case for me at Bhatti, and Indian restaurant in Curry Hill (geographically speaking, Murray Hill in the 20s and Lexington Avenue).  I noticed a lot of people entering while I stood outside and several people, in fact, spoke to each other in high praise of the restaurant while meandering past. The ambiance was a bit different from the Indian restaurants I'm used to.  It's more modern/edgy/romantic...definitely less traditional and homey and there was no Indian man dressed in traditional garb playing a sitar in the corner (this you might find in New York's Brick Lane, a.k.a. 6th Street area). We ordered a round of appetizers and entrees to share, including a dish of tandoori-roasted stuffed potatoes, paneer (Indian cheese), and an assortment of naan bread.  Our appetize