Like a lot of chefs these days, Dean Gold, the boss man at Dino, buys whole animals. In his case, he buys whole Pekin ducks via D’Artagnan and butchers them in-house for the breast meat and legs. Some of the leftovers are reserved for stock. The neck skin and the offal, however, Gold saves for a sausage antipasto that he calls the “Duck Beggar’s Purse.”  

On the plate, the appetizer doesn’t look like much. Not to put this too bluntly, but these thick rounds look like slightly less-uniform slices of Jimmy Dean sausage, all fried up and crispy around the edges. But as soon as you take that first bite, you know you’re dealing with a product far superior to anything manufactured in corporate America.

Read More “Dish of the Week: The Duck ‘Beggar’s Purse’ at Dino” »

How can you go to 2Amys and resist this pie? Meliakristin explains.

Go to 2Amys for something other than pizza? That seems an act bordering on sacrilege, at least to this critic who still thinks Peter Pastan is turning out the best pies in town.

But Restaurant Rater meliakristin’s mind turns to other delicacies when visiting the pizzeria. Here’s what she writes:

Read More “Vox Populi: Restaurant Rater meliakristin on 2Amys” »

Jim had been planning this thing—or “ting” as he had come to call it—for nearly a month. It started out as a simple birthday dinner for our friend Lou, he of the award-winning holiday cookie recipe. It practically turned into a quest to replicate the entire menu from the late, lamented A.V. Ristoranto.

The immovable object in this equation was Lou’s birthday and his love for red-sauce Italian cuisine. The irresistible force was Jim, a man who’s never satisfied with hosting something “grand” when “epic” is within reach. Each of the party guests had volunteered to prepare at least two dishes (and sometimes three) for the evening. Jim’s e-mails leading up to the party were encouraging and helpful. Some were even hilarious parodies of goombah language and culture. Sample:

I t’ought we might do a update on dis boitday ting for our good friend, Lou. It is de ting he requested: old-fashioned red-sauce dinner. Like we used to do back in Hoboken. Remember? Sinatra on the box? Garlic in the air? (Or was that Gina’s perfume?)

Below, you will see de t’ing you said you would do. If there are question marks, it means, I don’t know. Hey, who do I look like, de freakin’ Answer Man? Fuhgettabowtit.

In the days leading up to the party, however, some of Jim’s e-mails took on an edgier tone. In one, he wrote: “I know this is a terrible thing to be thinking, but it has been bugging me all day that we don’t have anything for the table. I may make an additional pasta dish or two. I’ll see about the time.” In another he said he would try to make escarole, since the people assigned to that dish (ahem, me and the wife) could only find spinach.

By the time the birthday soiree rolled around, we had enough food to feed not only the 12 invited guests but also each guest’s 20 closest friends. The primi piatti alone included four pasta dishes and a pasticciata, which is essentially a polenta lasagna. We danced between courses to encourage further gluttony.

No one puked, and Lou loved it all. He loved it so much he ended up with a “I love bacon” tattoo on his ass. Long story, for another time.

The entire menu (well as much as I can remember) and more photos are below the jump.

Read More “How to Throw a Stinkin’ Boitday for a Red Sauce Lover” »