The Food Maven Diary
[Archives]

[Previous Entry] [Diary Home] [Next Entry]

12/27/2006 Archived Entry: "On New York City Restaurants, Part Two"

ONE OF THE 100 THINGS YOU MUST EAT BEFORE YOU DIE
The visiting dignitary, my niece, was also up for New York delicatessen. She is now more interested in delicatessen than she ever was before because her boyfriend happens to be Max Protzel, scion of the Protzel delicatessen dynasty of St. Louis. Protzel’s is “the” Jewish delicatessen in St. Louis. I don’t think there are any others. These days, Max runs the deli that his grandfather founded. And his specialty is corned beef. I must say it is superb corned beef that the deli cures itself, and that is at this very moment in my refrigerator waiting to be devoured for lunch today – on good New York rye bread, of course.

We went to the Lower East Side to go fabric shopping, which put us near Katz’s, which is on the corner of Houston and Ludlow Sts. I don’t eat corned beef at Katz’s. I eat pastrami. To me it is the best pastrami on earth, even though, in general, I hate the concept of “best.” I feel we should enjoy the food before us for whatever good quality it has – or not -- without comparisons in the superlative. I mean, I have standards. I have very high standards. But I don’t want to be disappointed in something, especially something that is very good, because it is not the absolute best. Good, great, terrific, sublime. All of those are good enough for me.

Just the other day, in fact, at Gael Greene’s birthday party at the restaurant above the Fairway market on Broadway and 74th St., which has excellent food supervised by Mitchell London, someone at my table asked me what was the best crème brulle in the city. I was at that moment enjoying an especially good crème brulle, so I had to say that as I have not eaten every crème brulle in the city, the one before me – a superb example, barely thick enough to hold its shape on a spoon with crackling crisp caramelized top – was as “best” as I could imagine.

(As an aside, my friend Gael Greene, the indefatigable restaurant critic, is going to be signing her revealing and hilarious memoir, “Insatiable” this Thursday, Dec. 28, from 6 to 8, at Best Cellars, the wine store on Lexington Ave. and 86th St. Store owner Josh Wesson will be pouring Champagne, but it is BYOB – bring your own book. There’s a Barnes & Noble across the street.)

In the case of pastrami, however, there is little doubt about what is best. No place outside of New York (okay, and New Jersey) ever had great pastrami to begin with -- ever. Nowadays, it is even hard to find good pastrami in New York, much less great pastrami, much less sublime pastrami. And I swoon with pleasure when I eat a Katz’s pastrami sandwich, which, by the way, now costs $13.95.

If you’ve never experienced Katz’s, you owe yourself this great experience. It is the oldest delicatessen in New York, opened in 1888, and it looks it. I prefer to sit in the waiter service area along the left-hand wall. If you don’t want to splurge on a tip for the waiter, you can go to the counter and order your food yourself then carry it to a table. In fact, my favorite picture in Arthur Schwartz’s New York City Food is the one of a Chinese guy and an African American guy getting their sandwiches at the counter at Katz’s, while, as I always joke when I do my slide show based on the book, the guy slicing the meat is named Jesus. Only in New York, folks!

YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE KOSHER …
to enjoy Mabat. I was flabbergasted when I learned the other day that Mabat, at 1809 E. 7th St., right off Kings Highway in Brooklyn, is 18 years old. In case you didn’t know, that number is “chai” in Hebrew, which is also the word for “life,” which is why Jewish people often wear the letter “chai” as a good luck charm, and why when giving gifts or charity we often give in multiples of 18. Here’s another “chai” example: The Jewish toast is “l’chaim,” to life, although it technically means “to lives,” the plural. So? Nu? I think going to Mabat while it is 18 years old has to be very good luck.

Anyway, I love Mabat. I have always loved Mabat. But I had no idea I have been loving Mabat for so long. I went because I was lunching with a young woman who was interviewing me for a Jewish literary magazine called “Zeek.” (I’ll tell you when the story comes out.) Besides that she had never been to the kosher stores on Kings Highway, and I thought they would be a good backdrop for our interview, she is vegetarian, and it is very easy to be vegetarian at Mabat, even though it is an Israeli grill restaurant with excellent glatt kosher steaks, chicken, kebabs, and fish.

On the left of the small dining room is a refrigerated case holding everything -- an array of salads and vegetable dishes on top, the meats below. You can expect all the typical Middle Eastern mezze – humus, babaganoush, tabouleh, chopped salad, eggplant in tomato sauce, lentils and rice with fried onions, beet salad … you get the picture, and it’s all top-notch here. But there is also a wonderful and unexpected avocado salad and a great potato salad with mayonnaise.

I have never eaten sineya anywhere else, so I have no comparisons, but it’s one of my favorite items at Mabat. Whatever the main ingredient is – chicken, beef, lamb – it is sautéed in small pieces with lots of onions -- a “Jerusalem mix” as the menu calls it -- surrounded by a ring of creamy humus. If you want vegetarian sineya, it’s done with mushrooms, but it is mostly those wonderfully caramelized onions. At lunch you can get a small plate for $6.95. Prices in general are quite fair, especially given that this is a kosher restaurant and kosher prices are often higher than at mainstream restaurants. I’ve had big dinners here, starring a thick rib steak, always grilled perfectly medium rare as I like it – for about $35. There is also a private room behind the main room that you can reserve for a party for a minimum of $25 a person for a minimum of 12 people, although about 20 people can be squeezed in.

Kosher supervision is by Vaad Harabonim of Flatbush.

Service by young, mostly Israeli women is perfect – efficient and friendly but respectful. Count on getting a plate of Israeli pickles, hot pita and somewhat spicy Israeli tomato condiment when you sit down. It gives you food to nibble while contemplating the menu. The room is simple and small but painted a smart dark blue and quite attractive with arty photos on the wall. It is also immaculately clean. Indeed, I always feel healthy at Mabat because I know the ingredients are the freshest, and the cooking meticulous. Clean cooking – it’s a good characterization – not to mention delicious.