SriPraPhai: a delicious hidden Thai garden of green curry, crispy golden bags, & deep fried salad

(After dinner at SriPraPhai, be sure to check out the refrigerator cases of take-home goodies, like these handmade Thai marzipan $3.50)

SriPraPhai (64-13 39th Ave., Woodside)
11:30am - 9:30pm (Closed Wednesdays)

I've unfortunately learned the hard way that just because something exists in abundance does not necessarily mean it is something you should explore.  Take Japanese restaurants, for example.  Unless you happen to reside in a pricey apartment above Nobu or Gari, chances are that the most local joint isn't really the best option.  Sushi bars seem to have sprung up all over the city like dandelions after a summer rain, but if you aren't cautious, you'll find yourself tediously gnawing at nori that resembles more of a black rain tarp encasing tepid mock krab and browning bits of cucumber, surrounded by sticky little polka dots that taste more of vinegar-drowned air niblets than sticky rice.  It's sad but true that if you want quality, you have to pay--or at least be willing to travel--for it.

Thai restaurants are no exception.  In Indiana, I'd never even heard of lemongrass or tasted anything with curry.  Tom Yum was a frighteningly hairy neanderthal who sat at the local biker bar and grunted "yummmm..." at his fried appetizer sampler basket and malted chocolate milkshake, alternating between drags of his Marlboro reds, bites of fried cauliflower dipped in ranch, and terrifyingly noisy slurps from his melted ice cream beverage.

After living briefly in Manhattan and having my first rendezvous with chicken curry puffs and actual tom yum soup, and the sweet and savory deliciousness that is pad thai, I nearly did a roundoff-back-handspring-into-the-splits sequence upon realizing there were thirteen Thai restaurants within walking distance of my current apartment in Astoria... eleven of which deliver directly to my front door (who'd have thought!?)  That is, until, I actually began trying some of them.  After several devastating encounters with grease-soaked frozen chicken curry "un"puffs, and hot and sour soups that were neither hot nor sour, but rather lukewarm bathtub water with celery strands, merely thrown in to make the lunch special seem like a real bargain... well, I realized that just as with sushi, sometimes the road (or in my case, the subway or cab service) less traveled makes all the difference.

I was ready to throw in the towel last week, after a particularly horrific meal of overcooked rice noodles dowsed in sugar heavy syrup with frozen shrimp, wilted basil leaves and bamboo shoots that tasted more like hay, garnished with a dried out yellowish-brown lime wedge.  I threw nearly the entire meal away without even opening the bath water soup, settling instead on a hot dog I found in the fridge with a Kraft single and some mustard relish folded in a piece of Wonder bread.  As I grumpily drifted to sleep later that night, I was teetering at the precipice of calling it quits on my quest for outstanding Thai, when I suddenly remembered a couple I adore telling me about this magnificent Thai restaurant they love in Queens.

This is how my stomach works.  I must have been extremely discontent with my dinner that night, because these friends had shared this tidbit literally years ago.  Feeling like a failure to completely give up hope on any particular cuisine, my brain must have sent an S.O.S. to the synapses in my brain, triggering the long-repressed memory and only remaining shrapnel of hope.  I vaguely recalled that they would frequently sojourn from their apartment on the Upper East Side all the way to Woodside for this favorite little joint.  Groggily, I opened my MacBook and Googled "woodside thai" and seven of the entries on the first page of results screamed to me the answer: SriPraPhai.

The very next morning, I sent a text message to one of my dearest friends and favorite food explorers, Mikey, to ask if he would be up for a blog adventure.  The excitement must have been glaringly evident in my text, and he wrote back "YES!!!"  Though the restaurant is just off the 65th street stop on the R train, I was far too excited to walk to a station and then wait for a train, and so we hopped in a cab.  From my apartment in Astoria, we were there in just 7 minutes.

My excitement admittedly took a momentary blow when we pulled up to the restaurant only to see a crowd of hungry diners waiting on the sidewalk for tables.  I felt like an out-of-towner at the box office lottery for tickets to see Wicked on Broadway, knowing darn well that the people getting seats before me had probably already eaten here numerous times, and should graciously forego their seats for me, the eager first-timer who would inevitably appreciate it exponentially more.  Considering the fact I have won lottery tickets to Wicked far more times than I am willing to admit on the worldwide web, I figured karma probably wasn't on my side.  So I politely pushed through the growling stomachs, and gave my information to the hostess.  In exchange, she handed me a pink Post-It with the number "68" written in ballpoint pen.  "30 minutes... more or less..." she stated, and returned to the receipts she had been sorting.  A lit number board both above the counter inside and on the sidewalk outside would flash our number when the table was ready.

Placing my Willy Wonka golden ticket into the side pocket of my cargo shorts, I gazed around the dining area, which extended into two rather large rooms that could easily seat a few hundred patrons.  Several non-Asian families happily twirled glistening noodles of pad thai onto wooden chopsticks, but as servers walked by with trays of strangely exotic and colorful dishes for the numerous tables of actual Thai families gathered for dinner, the non-Asian families would strain their necks to see what mysterious culinary treats they were missing out on.

Now when it comes to driving, I might accidentally waste an hour on a sidetrack because I refused to pull into a gas station for directions.  But when it comes to food, I'm never too proud to ask an expert for advice.  What happened next is one great trick I have learned, and one of the best tips I can give to any first-time diner at a new restaurant.  I approached the host stand, and politely asked the cashier if she had a moment.  "This is my very first time here.  I love trying new things.  In case this is my only visit, and I never get to return, is there any particular dish on the menu you think I simply have to try?"  The cashier smiled at me. "Oh yes..." she grinned, as she grabbed a takeout menu and proceeded to circle a few items with a black Sharpie.  "Here, try these.  You will be pleased."  I thanked her, and walked back outside to share my new information with Mikey.

After only about fifteen minutes from when we had taken our ticket, 68 lit up on the number board, and I nearly hurdled the other waiting patrons while Mikey trailed behind me chuckling at my enthusiasm.  I mean... sometimes you just know when a place is going to be fantastic.  A hostess guided us to a very tiny table near the front, packed tightly next to a row of other two-tops, creating a feel similar to a long communal table.  After squeezing into our seats, she then handed us thick menus that seemed more like spiral-bound dissertations than a list of curries, rice, and noodle dishes.  Just as I flipped open the cover to peruse, I heard some rustling coming from behind me.  The menus were suddenly snatched from our hands as quickly as they had been given.  Were we being kicked out because I had inadvertently toppled a senior citizen on a walker in my excitement?  Had I accidentally trampled a toddler in my haste?

To my surprise, it was the same cashier who had given me her menu suggestions, and she appeared to be scolding the hostess who had seated us.  Her face softened as she turned to me, "come... I will show you a better table."  The tables around us glared, as if we'd been granted a free upgrade to some mysterious first class cabin of which I had no awareness.  "Naw... It's okay, this table is fine for us," I replied, a little frightened by the small scene we were now causing.  "Trust me... come..." she smiled.  Out of respect for the woman who had offered her sage advice, we rose from our seemingly perfect window table, albeit somewhat cramped, and followed her... beyond the large dining room, past the kitchen, and through a back doorway I had assumed led to an alley.

Like Lucy stepping through the wardrobe into Narnia, I gasped at the outdoor garden into which the cashier led us.  Out here, diners seemed even happier in the breeze, and laughter floated from all of the tables as men and women feasted on a kaleidoscope array of dishes.

Our new hostess placed the menus on a large table intended for four people under a canopy of leaves (someone must have gotten the memo that I order a lot), with a gorgeous view of the entire garden area.  She winked at us, and grinned, "see... better table..." like a playful told-ya-so, and then disappeared back into the busy dining room.  Needless to say, the rest of the evening was magical.  Beyond the exceptionally friendly service and unique atmosphere, SpriPraPhai executes what numerous magazines, blogs, and critics have heralded as some of the best Thai food anywhere outside of Thailand. This food blogger is no exception.  We took our cashier's advice, and added a few choices of our own, as well.

The first suggestion we took was the crispy Chinese watercress salad ($10).  This required a significant amount of faith.  Considering the alternative salads, like shredded mango or papaya, who on earth would choose a salad of floating cabbage?  But thank goodness we heeded the advice, because it was one of the most delicious salads I've ever tasted.  If the title had said, "deep-fried salad" my eyes would have gone straight to it... but watercress?  Are you serious?  There's no way I would have chosen watercress from the list of forty-three potential appetizers.

It was absolutely delicious.  Peppery, tangy strips of fresh green watercress were lightly battered and fried.  Like some fantastic Asian onion ring, the crispy nest of fried greens sits atop a generous pile of tender shrimp, calamari, and chicken, which have been tossed in a thai chili oil, with tiny slivers of fresh red onion and sprigs of citrusy coriander.

Thung thong, or stuffed fried golden bags ($6), were practically too beautiful to touch.  Inside these surprisingly crispy parcels are a blend of shredded chicken, yellow corn, and snow peas.  The sweetness of the corn with the delicate texture of the snow peas and the savory chicken, all gift-wrapped in crunch with a small dish of thai chili sauce for dunking made for an exceptional second course.

I couldn't help but snicker at the title of our next dish: vegetable soup with ground pork, squid, and shrimp ($5).  In my experience, the last three ingredients don't make for a vegetable soup, but who was I to complain?  The broth was absolutely packed with the flavors of the meats and vegetables and a variety of herbs.

The gai-kua sauteed noodles with chicken and squid were a dish we will definitely be ordering again on our next visit.  Broad pappardelle-like rice noodles had been pan fried to perfection, expertly balancing the tightrope between tender and overcooked.  Served over freshly washed bibb lettuce, the broad noodles are sauteed with egg and chicken, then tossed in a delicate garlic and fish sauce.  Definitely a more savory alternative to the popular pad thai ($8.50).

That having been said, we simply couldn't resist trying the pad thai, which was sheer perfection.  Narrow rice noodles tossed with egg, delicious and succulent shrimp, peanuts, kaffir lime, sugar, and a kiss of tamarind.  Unlike many other imitations, the pad thai at SriPraPhai is exploding with flavors.  This is absolutely the real deal ($8.50).

Served with a heaping bowl of sticky white rice for $8.50, the chicken and bamboo shoots with green curry is an absolute must-try for both first-timers and aficionados alike.  Distinct from other curries because of the sweetness of the coconut milk and the fragrance of the basil leaves added at the end of the cooking, this aromatic dish packs a tangy and wonderful heat that brings just the right amount of sweat to your brow.  Be sure to specify to your server the desired degree of spice, but do not be frightened by the zip.  At SriPraPhai, this Thai favorite is beyond comparison.

Because some degree of heat is an element of many Thai dishes, I highly recommend a delicious accompaniment of a tall, refreshing glass of thai iced tea.  Strong red tea flavored with a hint of orange blossom is sweetened with sugar and condensed milk, served chilled over ice cubes.  It's an absolutely delicious counterpart to soothe your palate when the spice gets your brow glistening ($2.50).

Though many of the desserts are geared toward young ones with colored and flavored gelatins and rice, there's certainly a sweet ending for every age of taste bud.  Mikey enjoyed this generous dish of lychee ice cream crowned with lychee fruit ($4.50).

For dessert, I savored a slice of mor kang... better translated as taro custard ($3).  Made from the corm (underground stem) of the taro plant, this egg custard is sweetened with palm sugar (also know as coconut sugar, palm sugar is popular because of its low melt temperature and high burn temperature).  The result resembles a Thai Thanksgiving confection, sort of like an outrageously delicious, crustless sweet potato pie, topped with sweet, fried onions.  Another excellent recommendation we received, and the perfect ending to an exceptional dinner.

Though the website fails to list the desserts besides the ice cream, be sure to peruse the refrigerators by the main entrance while you are waiting.  The extensive menu offers decent English descriptions and images of most of the offerings, though a firsthand glimpse always reigns supreme over menu snapshots.  If dinner leaves you content without dessert, I highly recommend taking one home to enjoy later.  These tiny pieces of art are just as fascinating as the menu itself.

Locale exceeds everything you could desire from a neighborhood gem

The Peanut Butter Bomba is decadently creamy and subtle peanut butter gelato filled with buttery caramel and coated in a crisp milk-chocolate shell ($6).

Locale (33-02 34th Ave., Astoria)

I think I am in serious, serious trouble...  I don't have enough disposable income or elastic waste bands to sample everything I want to from Locale within the timeframe I have been craving it.  As a food writer, I naturally dine out more than the typical guy.  Although I am exposed to some absolutely fantastic meals (along with the less than stellar experiences, as well) I sort of consider it an unspoken rule that I should perpetually try new venues and new dishes rather than continuously return to my favorites again and again.

After several recommendations, I finally stopped by Locale with my roommate last week to check out their dinner scene.  And though I've desperately attempted to refrain, my willpower proved itself far too fragile, and I found myself there again this afternoon with a dear friend.  Brunch, I justified, is an altogether different meal with different lighting, and most likely, a different staff... ergo, it doesn't really count as a repeat visit, right???  And just as I suspected and hoped, brunch was absolutely delicious, and now I'm afraid I am seriously hooked.

The decor is crisp and modern, with a refreshing nod to the tradition and culture of the neighborhood.  An inviting bar wraps around the left side of the room, adorned with refurbished vintage ceiling panels and white-washed exposed brick.  I instantly found myself wondering if I was really in Astoria, rather than somewhere in Brooklyn's exploding restaurant scene, or the highly buzzed lower east side of Manhattan.

During brunch, magnificent black-paned picture windows allow natural sunlight to flood the dining room, with the front windows opened to the outdoor patio, allowing a summer breeze to kiss the air.  In the evening, luminaries light the al fresco dining area, and the windows allow the quaint neighborhood street ambiance to illuminate the room, with the rustic addition of a wagon wheel chandelier and a few simple exposed light bulbs.  Couples lean into one another across candlelight or snuggle on couches in the split level lounge area, and friends gather together at large tables pushed together, filled with laughter.  Locale is simultaneously hip, relevant, and yet somehow extremely inviting.  Not to mention the fact I spent half of my meal Shazam-ing the overhead music playlist for later purchase... a calming and fresh blend of often independent, folky, and acoustic deliciousness.

A notably attractive staff graciously executes dinner service, with silverware replaced between courses, water glasses always full, and genuine smiles and an impressively sincere passion for service.  I guess it would be hard to work at a restaurant like this, and not share a sense of pride and investment in such a rare neighborhood gem.  Within moments of sitting down today, one of the servers from last week approached our table smiling.  "I just wanted to say hi, and that I'm glad to see you returned today.  It was a lot of fun serving you last week."  That's a kind of warmth and hospitality I rarely find anywhere after just a second visit.

Any martini-enthusiast with be extremely remiss not to try this elegant and refreshing version of a New York classic.  Rosemary's garden is a glass filled with chilled rosemary-dill infused vodka, blanketed with a float of sauvignon blanc, and adorned with a blue cheese stuffed Queen olive ($10).  Other than sangria, I've rarely thought to pair vodka and wine, but this summer garden concoction proved to be a surprisingly delicious and innovative marriage for an exquisite dinner spirit.

Quite possibly my new personal favorite anywhere is the Smooch. Almost like a new twist on a mojito, the bartender blends Absolut Mandarin, fresh strawberries, mint, and a white peach puree ($9).  Simple and delicious.

The bruschetta trio featured buttery, crisp, country toast with a traditional pomodoro of marinated vine ripe tomatoes, creamy mozzarella with herbed portobello mushrooms, and Sicilian caponata... a delightfully sweet and sour eggplant salad ($8).

When it comes to crab cakes, I am a self-admitted snob.  Since childhood, my parents can attest that I am always on the lookout for the best crab cakes.  Nothing is more disappointing than a fried mound of butter, bread crumbs, and seasonings with no evident meat visible.  The crab cake at Locale is one of the most exceptional I have tasted anywhere.  Buttery, flaky, and tender jumbo lump crab meat is fried to golden crispy perfection, on a cool and refreshing pedestal of cucumber salad, dressed with crunchy and bitter mixed micro greens that cut away any heaviness, resting atop drizzled ribbons of creamy dill aioli and a hint of chili oil.  It was a brilliant blend of textures, temperatures, and subtle flavors that beautifully served to make the delicious crabmeat taste all the better.  Yes, I am absolutely infatuated with this crab cake ($12).

The salmon entree was grilled to medium rare perfection, with crisscrossed bronzed grill marks that added crunch that gave way to a splendidly tender and moist filet of salmon beneath, all glossed in a sweet and tangy hoisin glaze.  The back up singers to this dish were roasted fennel, hearty and steaky oyster mushrooms, and buttery and tender fingerling potatoes, all in a pool of a zesty yet unpretentious roasted red pepper sauce (market price).

Now behold the subject of my drool-inducing dreams about Locale, the reason I just cannot seem to get this place out of my mind, and quite possibly one of the most unique pasta dishes I have tried in quite some time.  I would be lying if I denied that I snickered like an immature third grader when I ordered it, but the Faggotini is out-of-this-world delicious.  Perfectly al dente beggars purse pasta is stuffed with the most tender and creamy gorgonzola.  I sometimes find gorgonzola to be overly robust and sometimes offensive to my palate, but this had a very subtle kick and a light sharpness that was gorgeously balanced with the sweet and slightly tangy red beet sauce with whole walnuts.  I am still absolutely blown away by the unique combination of flavors that has been haunting my memory relentlessly since I last tasted it ($16).

For brunch today, my friend enjoyed one of the numerous specials our server shared with us, and it is definitely a dish for which I may have to call ahead to see when it is being served.  Juicy, slow-roasted chicken and tender slices of spiced sausage are tossed with a subtly sweet and savory montevino red wine sauce, served with steamed broccoli and golden home fries ($15).

I'm a huge fan of unique benedicts, so it was no-brainer that my brunch selection was the caprese version of this french classic.  A generous duo of two toasted English muffin, layered with ruby-ripe garden tomatoes, wedges of fresh mozzarella, a pillow of perfectly poached eggs, and a citrusy pesto hollandaise sauce.  What a refreshingly light and Italian take on a brunch favorite.  It was the ideal Saturday afternoon plate.

The peanut butter bomba (described at the heading of this post) was a rich and sinful dessert lover's sweet dream, and to-die-for.  But one of the somewhat lighter and refreshing desserts that won me over was the heavenly Strawberry Napoleon ($7).  Layers of flaky, warm puff pastry alternate with dollops of silky creme anglaise, with slivers of fresh strawberries scattered between.  It reminded me of summers in Indiana at the strawberry festivals on the farms, a simple country confection prepared to refreshing perfection.  How can you go wrong with fresh tart strawberries and sweet cream?

Whether dining outside with a loved one, gathering for a unique cocktail with friends at the bar, or simply seeking a delicious new local restaurant to impress your group, Locale hits the mark on every level.  Sourcing local ingredients (they are in the process of working with the Brooklyn Grange for fresh local produce), you'll have a hard time finding a tastier meal in the area.  And for service, atmosphere, and all around value, you won't enjoy anything this much in Manhattan without shelling out twice the dollars.  Treat yourself to a visit if you haven't yet been.  After two meals, Locale has already become one of my local favorites.

Why Leave Astoria cardholders can enjoy 15% off their bill from 5-7pm.

Would you prefer your octopus permanent press or delicate?

Thalassa (179 Franklin Street, Tribeca)


After watching "Turkey a la Queens," one of my favorite episodes of The Fabulous Beekman Boys (the hilarious and tender story of two city-boys-turned-farmers, and the only reality show of which I willingly admit to being a fan), I had to begin to wonder what other bizarre, untraditional techniques might lie beneath some of my favorite dishes, but I just never knew.  During the particular episode, Josh (author, ad exec, and former drag queen) and his partner Brent (former VP for Martha Stewart's Healthy Living) feed a vodka cran-tini to their Thanksgiving turkey just moments before beheading it.  The reasoning?  "Giving the turkey alcohol helps relax all of the muscles so that the bird will be perfectly tender and delicious."

I started thinking about various meat presentations I have enjoyed (or not-so-enjoyed) over the years, and had to wonder if the farmers had just thrown a few cocktail hours for their heifers, how much better the meat might have tasted.

Without question, one of the meats that can be splendidly decadent and delicious if prepared properly, or tougher than a ten-year-old gummy worm if not, is the temperamental seafood delicacy, octopus.  At it's best, it requires nothing more than a little oil and a small Greek salad accompanying it, and you have a feast fit for Neptune himself; at it's worst, it's a TMJ-sufferers most hideous nightmare.

During a recent visit to Thalassa, an exquisite Greek restaurant in Tribeca, I enjoyed what was--beyond any shadow of a doubt--the most gorgeously tender octopus ever to cross my palate.  It required no knife whatsoever, and the fork literally slid through the dish as easily as through a warm pat of butter.  It was exponentially more tender than any previous version I have tried, or any future I am likely to encounter.  And quite honestly, it stunned me.  Even more shocking, however, was the chef's candid response when I asked him his secret to preparing such magnificently tender octopus...

A washing machine!

That's right, Thalassa's Executive Chef Ralphael Abrahante has a washing machine designated for the sole purpose of tenderizing the Portuguese octopus before grilling it.  When questioned about the technique, he explained that you hear all sorts of crazy tactics typically employed, a common one involving the fisherman beating the octopus on the rocks repeatedly after catching them to tenderize the seafood.  Considering the alternative, a spin in the washing machine sounds exceptionally more humane.

After tenderizing the octopod, it is lightly seasoned with lemon juice and olive oil, grilled, and served with a simple fava bean and parsley puree, and finally garnished with a crown of organic microgreens.  It brings a whole new meaning to the phrase "clean flavors" making this traditional Greek dish simply delicious.  But the exquisitely tender appetizer is just the tip of the iceberg of the exceptional experience that awaits at Thalassa.

Upon entering, you step into a bar that instantly transports you into a Mediterranean reverie of every soothing and serene image you have dreamt Greece to be.  Billowing sails drape from the ceiling like a summer yacht on the Aegean Sea, a mosaic of white marble adorns the curves of a 15-ft bar that offers an award-winning selection of the over 5,000 bottles of wine housed in the cellar just one level below.  The lilting melodies of Greek-raised master guitarist, Spiros Exaras, sing on a gentle unassuming breeze throughout the room as he strums soothing tunes from a stool in the far corner.

Gliding past the peacefully aquatic blue-lit entrance you pass by a gorgeous collage of imported Mediterranean fish and crustaceans, to enter a stunningly simple and elegant dining room of soaring 18-ft ceilings, polished hardwood floors, exposed brick, and olive trees.

At the far end, a balcony reveals views of the climate-controlled Wine Room a level below, where two 20-ft illuminated transparent onyx columns connect the two floors with astounding contemporary Greek flare.  A wine rack spans the entire length of the room, featuring international and Greek boutique wines.  The architecture and decor is breathtakingly delicious, and that's before you even raise a glass or lift a fork.

In my experience, the paradox of Greek cuisine is the high level of difficulty required because of it's simplicity.  How many different ways can you vary lemon potatoes or porgies and hortas (and even more, who first decided that dandelion greens might be tasty?)  When dealing with simple ingredients, a few seasonings, and olive oil, there are no sauces or bread coatings to mask a poorly prepared filet of fish.  So technique and freshness are of the utmost importance.

The food at Thalassa exceeds the definition of traditional or even contemporary Greek cuisine.  While maintaining the simplicity and integrity of Greek tradition, Chef Ralphael has grandiosely surpassed what I ever expected a few fresh ingredients and a master chef could achieve.

Take, for instance, our amuse bouche offered compliments of the kitchen, this particularly refreshing spin on tuna tartare, served here on a crisp cucumber disc, topped with a creamy taramosalata and roe... proof that simple, quality, fresh ingredients provide an explosion of flavor and texture that require no masking whatsoever.

A quintessential example of traditional Greek elements harmonizing for an out-of-this-world symphony of flavors was my personal favorite dish of the evening, featuring Maine diver scallops.  These tender seafood medallions are wrapped in kataifi, which is shredded phyllo dough, baked, and then decadently drizzled with a sheep's milk butter and white wine beurre blanc, diced asparagus, scallions, capers, and tomatoes, with a final zigzag of a kalamata balsamic reduction.  These divine seafood nests offered the crunch and savor of the land, the fragile ocean balance of sweet and salty, with colorfully tart and tangy vegetable ornamentation.  I made such a rave about how much this dish wowed me that the chef was gracious enough to share a simplified version of the recipe with me, which I have attached at the end of this post...  although I highly recommend initially trying it at Thalassa before attempting it at home.

The Horiatiki, a traditional Greek peasant salad, was yet another stunning example of how fresh ingredients with minimal accompaniments can sometimes offer the most astonishing explosion of flavors.    This particular version showcased heirloom tomatoes, bell peppers, cucumbers, and a surprisingly silky wedge of Dodonis feta (a sheep's milk feta known to be creamier and smoother than the more common barrel feta).

For the main course, I savored one of the most tender filets of fish I have ever enjoyed, and was quite honestly impressed beyond comparison.  Chef Ralphael sprinkles the filets of Lavraki (known as Branzino across the sea) with an assortment of herbs, and then grills the fish whole.  The buttery and tender filet is accented only with a whisper of lemon juice, capers, and olive oil.

Having lived in Astoria with an ofttimes rather out-of-control sweet tooth, I can assure you that I have sampled many versions of traditional Greek desserts throughout the years.  It is without contest that I proclaim Thalassa serves the most exceptional version of my favorite Greek dessert, Galaktobouriko, a simple citrus custard layered with crisp phyllo dough and drizzled with honey.

If Italian cheesecake makes you feel guilty, than you simply must sink your fork into Thalassa's yogurt cake, a much lighter and creamier, yet beautifully sweet version of the Mediterranean classic, on a small pool of tart raspberry coulis, crowned with a candied fig preserve, and accompanied by a few sweet pear wedges.  A refreshingly light, sweet kiss for a perfect ending to an exceptional meal.

If you aren't afraid to pull out the stops, then why not indulge in a perfectly executed, moist, and rich molten chocolate cake dusted with confectioner's sugar and garnished with a mint sprig.

But if tradition is what best suits you, you would hard-pressed to find a more satisfyingly gooey, crunchy, and buttery walnut and almond baklava.  For a chef that would personally tell you that he is not a pastry chef, Ralphael most certainly has mastered a sweet ending that befits the finale to an absolutely superb meal.

Though I am saving Thalassa for the next time I really want to wow someone on a date, I could not more highly recommend a refreshing escape from the city into a serene and luminescent world of colors, smells, and flavors that genuinely transport you to a Mediterranean oasis.

Recipe: Scallops Wrapped in Kataifi
For the scallops: 
4 pcs extra large sea scallops
1/3rd lb. Kataifi Filo
salt & pepper to taste

Wrap scallops with kataifi filo and sprinkle with melted butter
Place on a baking sheet and bake at 450 F for 15 minutes

For the butter sauce: 
1 medium shallot, sliced
1 tsp. fresh thyme
8 oz. white wine
½ lb. butter chips that have been thoroughly iced

Cook shallot, thyme and wine until completely reduced (i.e. no liquid left)
Add the iced butter chips and whip continuously
Salt & pepper to taste

For the balsamic reduction:

2 cups balsamic vinegar

Simmer on medium heat until syrupy – approx. 45min.

Mise en place:
1 diced tomato
½ cup diced scallions and dill

Cut cooked wrapped scallop in half and place in the center of the plate
Cover with butter sauce
Drizzle with balsamic reduction
Sprinkle with cut tomato and herbs

Zuzies: Gourmet comfort food that pleases every palate (POLL: Who's your favorite burger?)

Zuzies (40-17 30th Ave., Astoria)

Free Delivery 11am-10pm (718) 406-9600

*** Zuzies Grand Opening with open bar & hors d'oeuvres 7-10pm this coming Saturday, August 7th... RSVP here***

I am an omnivore.  Always have been, and god-willing always will be.  If it's delicious, I'll eat it.  Even if it's strange, but there's a unique story or cultural significance behind it, I'll try it at least once (see prior posts regarding various offals or grasshopper tacos).  I do, however, have numerous friends who are less daring eaters, and also several who are vegetarians, vegans, pescetarians, and every other finicky diet variety... some for religious reasons, some for health reasons, some for no good reason at all.

I don't judge others for their culinary preferences, but it saddens me greatly that one of my favorite social encounters in New York City, dining out, is limited by very few places where my gluten-free comrades, lactose-intolerant companions, beloved herbivores, and the burger fanatics in my life can find a common menu that meets all of their needs, where we can each find platters that fit our preferences, yet everyone have a delicious meal.  With very few exceptions, I typically do not enjoy vegan restaurants.  Some dish names that make me annoyed and teetering on angry (yes, these are real menu items offered at New York eating establishments) include: unchicken caesar salad, philly not-steak, meatless loaf (why would anyone willingly choose to use the word "loaf" for an entree unless it were meatloaf?), facon (yes, as in fake bacon... c'mon), not dogs (are you serious?), and the worst ever... 4skins (four potato skins with soy cheddar and tofu sour cream).

Besides the last one on the list, which is just plain revolting, the other vegetarian creative names seem to only serve to remind meat-eaters that what they are eating is imitation, and to remind the vegetarians just how pitifully their concoctions taste absolutely nothing like the real thing.  In my opinion, there's nothing wrong with being vegetarian.  But call a spade a spade.  Tofu in a peppercorn mushroom cream sauce should be called just that... not "Unsteak au Poivre" or some other ridiculously absurd approximation of the carnivorous equivalent.

When I learned that Mix Cafe + Lounge was transforming its kitchen and dining room to become a restaurant headed by a chef with a strong background in vegan and vegetarian cuisine, I became instantly leery.  And when I learned that the menu would feature several gourmet burgers (real beef burgers, not some strange "unburger") I became somewhat confused.  Could it be possible that a restaurant was opening in Astoria where finally I could invite my vegan friends and still safely enjoy some protein across the table?  And if the menu was truly going to be that eclectic, was it even realistic that it could be deliciously executed, as well?

After my fifth meal at the newly opened restaurant, I can wholeheartedly say that Zuzies has seemingly achieved the impossible.  A hollistic menu that caters to nearly every kind of eater, with simply delicious recipes all across the board.  I'm not ashamed to admit that some of the items that I later found out were vegan may actually top the list of my favorites; and they have also divined a burger that very well may be my favorite burger anywhere, not just in Astoria.

Susan Burdian, Chef-Owner of Zuzies, has been a passionate home cook and dinner party enthusiast for most of her adult life.  A few years ago she even earned a degree from the Natural Gourmet Institute.  An advocate of simple foods with big flavors, she has created a brilliantly diverse and delicious menu that showcases vegan and vegetarian options that any meat eater could enjoy, alongside a phenomenal selection of meaty dishes, as well.  Her favorite flavor profile is sweet & spicy, which is evident throughout many of the plates.  What impressed me the most, however, is that she offers several healthy options without the elitist mentality I so often associate with vegetarian-focused chefs.  Even more impressive, beyond some exquisitely balanced flavors, each dish on the menu also boasts a playful contrast of textures.  

Chef Susan also sources fresh local ingredients (i.e. breads from Long Island City and desserts from Martha's Country Bakery) and utilizes only eco-friendly delivery materials. This is gourmet comfort food at its very best.  Here's just a sample of some of the favorite dishes my friends and I have enjoyed during Zuzies soft opening.

The Southern Burger ($11.95 includes a pile of french fries) features a house-seasoned beef patty with fresh corn salsa, melted boursin cheese, and fried onion strings.  The toasted bun is buttery and soft, the burger flawlessly grilled, with a smooth and creamy blanket of herbed cheese, juicy kernels of sweet corn, and the salty crunch of fried onion strings.  Another favorite burger, the Umami Burger, is dressed with Italian herb butter, caramelized onions, a parmesan crisp, roasted portobello, oven dried tomatoes, melted gruyere cheese, and truffle aioli.  My mouth waters every single time this burger crosses my mind.  Simply brilliant...

For an additional 50 cents, french fries (which will soon change to steak fries, with an option of sweet potato fries) can be accompanied by any number of gourmets dips and drizzles, including citrus-jalapeno, honey-wasabi, and avocado-cilantro, just to name a few.

The fried shrimp roll is an utterly drool-inducing variation on an East Coast classic.  A toasted bun drizzled with chipotle aioli, then loaded with crisp panko-breaded shrimp, crowned with an asian coleslaw tossed in a thai chili sauce. ($9.95)

Chocolate and sausage are two things I never would have paired, but never say never; now I cannot fathom any tastier duet.  The Chocolate & Chorizo panini is the absolutely perfect marriage of sweet and savory.  Sauteed spicy chorizo is draped with melted pepper jack cheese, with just a whisper of sweet chocolate drizzled over the fillings before being grilled between two pieces of sourdough.  This is one of my personal favorites, and an absolute must-try. ($7.95)

  

The mushroom spring rolls are another one of Chef Susan's signature dishes. Flaky fried pastry wrapped around marinated crimini mushrooms, served with avocado-cilantro crema.  And these delicious parcels are 100% vegan, and 100% delicious. ($9.95)

I've actually had dreams about the cheesy deliciousness that is the pesto mac & cheese ($7.95).  A ceramic boat of pasta tossed with sharp cheddar and basil pesto, baked with a crispy panko breadcrumb topping.

Probably my personal favorite of the vegan offerings is the flavor-explosive lasagna salad.  A terrine of zucchini, broccoli, cherry tomato, & green peas is zigzagged with sun-dried tomato drizzle, pistachio-basil pesto, and then topped with a whipped pine nut faux ricotta.  If fresh vegetables could always taste this good, I might actually be able to go without filet mignon or chicken breast for quite a long time. ($9.95)

The Roman Gnocchi is unlike any pasta pillows I have ever tried before.  Categorized on the menu as a small plate ($7.95) two golden crispy, cheesy semolina discs are dressed with ribbons of a rich and bold bleu cheese cream sauce, sprinkled with crunchy walnuts.  If bleu cheese isn't your preference, try it with the portobello mushroom gravy.

The chipotle turkey meatloaf is a little different than the kind your grandma used to make, and honestly one of the most delicious sandwiches on the menu.  A fresh Italian hero houses a hearty slice of the most tender and tangy meatloaf, kissed with ribbons of chipotle drizzle, on a bed of fried onion strings.  ($11.95)

Although you can substitute chicken breast for any of the burgers, if you're gonna go poultry, try the Mexican Telera Sandwich.  A soft bun houses tender, marinated, grilled chicken breast smothered in melted oaxaca cheese, tangy roasted poblano dressing, refried black beans, tomato, red onion, and avocado wedges, with a side of grilled sweet plantains ($8.95).

Zuzies features several other salads, sandwiches, and tapas on one of the most sublimely inventive and refreshingly healthy menus to hit Astoria in a long time.  Currently, the dining room is only open from 6-10pm, although they plan to open for lunch within the next month.  The interior of Mix has undergone several recent improvements, and new tables will arrive shortly to replace the present lounge-style seating.  Delivery service, however, is already available from 11am to 10pm daily.

  

Zuzies is also open for Sunday Brunch with Sunday Morning Mimosa, featuring several of the gourmet burger combinations, along with special breakfast additions such as huevos rancheros with chorizo hash (pictured above).

Other brunch favorites include an absolutely phenomenal eggs benedict with curry cajun hash browns, as well as breakfast tacos, french toast, and a monte cristo.

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The grand opening celebration is this Saturday, August 7th, featuring an open bar from 7 to 10pm sponsored by Voli Vodka and several hors d'oeuvres from Zuzies, followed by a cash bar.  The evening is hosted by award-winning comedy team, Sunday Morning Mimosa, and features several live music performances, as well.  If you think you might like to stop by, visit the link at the top of this post to RSVP.