Monthly Archives: March 2011

Accompanying the slew of Indian restaurants in “Curry Hill” , sits the small, intimate vegetarian and kosher Indian restaurant, Pongal.

Upon entering the restaurant, visitors are greeted by a large blue cow in the corner. Stringed lights adorn the ceiling, while worn bamboo-like place mats sit on the tables. The decor is low-key, but could use an update.

Named after the period in South India celebrating the end of monsoon season and the beginning of the harvest festival, Pongal attempts to mimic the harvest-like environment by serving up dishes from various parts of India with entrees such as Madras Thali ($7.95), Undhiyu ($9.95), and Malai Kofta ($9.95).

The Madras Thali is an assortment of seven portions of two types of rice, eggplant, spiced potatoes, soup, and two dipping sauces.  A slightly greasy piece of poori bread and papad. The eggplant, which had an unexpected tanginess to it, and the potatoes were easily the most flavorful and memorable parts of the meal.

Madras Thali

One of Pongal’s most impressive dishes are their dosais.  The Masala dosai ($8.45) is a stunning wrap-like meal filled with potatoes and onions. Made from rice flour and lentils, the dough of the dosai is light and flaky, yet still satisfying.  The mildly spicy sambar soup and coconut chutney are served alongside it. The dish would benefit from a bit more filling inside, but the excess can easily be used to dip inside of the soup or coconut chutney.

For dessert, subtly sweet badam halwa ($5.45) provides a nice balance to the spices of Pongal’s entree. With the look and consistency of apple sauce, the thick almond fudge is a filling addition to any meal.

The efforts of the waitstaff can be a little hit or miss. Sometimes slightly pushy and at others kind and patient, the one positive thing to mention is that the food is served very quickly.

Overall, Pongal is a decent dining experience, but lacks the necessary elements to make it stand out in an area saturated with similar cuisine.

The bulk of barbecue restaurants in New York City go through the fire of assessment by both seasoned and self-proclaimed food critics and turn to ashes in one’s mouth. For all that, Blue Smoke extinguishes that concept for the most part.

From the colossal blackboards that sky behind the counter being used for its display menu to the cornucopia of wood that all but blankets the rest of the interior, a neighborly aura is inferred the instant one steps inside the restaurant thanks to their choice of a cracker-barrel layout rather than imitating a commercial restaurant’s cheesy design.

Apart from the amicable ambience, timely service by the staff is provided along with joviality that just continues to reinforce one’s comfort as they await their food.

The look of the one’s order once it arrives and is placed on the table will as good as gouge out one’s inner gorger or create one. Listed under real-pit barbecue main courses is applewood-smoked organic chicken, and its price of $18.95 is too high to a moderate extent. Even so, its winsome shades of brown, induced by the apple wood, make it seem as if it is removed from the smoker right on time. Its smell is faint, yet its mild taste is awakening.

The mashed potatoes, topped with thin, crispy, bland onions, that come with the main course has a look and bite of softness that match the eater’s firm certainty that the flavor is not too saline at all.

Now, the meals will not degrade the experience, if your order does not hinge on assumption. Going into a barbecue restaurant, most would predict the ribs to be the jewel in the crown of the menu, but that surmise is flawed. The overpriced ribs have more bone than meat, and the bit of meat’s taste is as delectable as expired Wheaties without milk. Such circumstances can make one contemplate tossing the plate into to the gargantuan, metal bucket one is supposed to use to dispose the bones.

Be that as it may, while glancing at the crowd of fellow eaters that flock in during happy hour, it is apparent how toothsome the side of macaroni and cheese is. Short after the side is served onto a multitude of tables, multiple spoons dig into the dish at the same time.

Aside from the food, the Blue Smoke Original Ale (NY) embodies the intuition of authenticity that the restaurant gives off. Its price of $7.50 for a pint of that particular  beer on tap is fitting. An ounce of their original ale swamps 40 ounces of the watery Brooklyn Pilsner (NY), which was one of the other beers on tap.

Charming service and homelike atmosphere assist the menu, minus the ribs, succeed in its attempt to have Blue Smoke rise like a phoenix from the ashes of the negative presumption of barbecue restaurants in New York City.

On a sunny 55 degree afternoon, I found myself in front of Pongal, located on 110 Lexington Avenue, as I walked in, I felt like I have just left New York and entered India. The first thing I noticed was the dim lighting. What was supposed to be 12:30pm looked as though it was 8pm inside.

The waiter presented the menus, which offered more than 100 items, I sat in silence scanning the confusingly capacious list of vegetarian selections. Thankfully, aside from the original menu, was the lunch special menu, consisting of 4 choices. He explained that the thalis offer different small tasting. I didn’t hesitate and ordered the Madras thali. ($7.95)

There was no doubt, the decorator pulled out all the strings to make it look as authentic as possible.  There were a few artful figurines and paintings hung equally apart from each other up on the wall, red cushions laid on top of the benches on both side of the restaurant, Indian music played in the background which had a smooth settling beat that was pleasing to the ear, and steel cup as drinking utensil.

My eyes widened in shock when the food came. The thali came with a wide selection of different dishes served in 7 small steel bowls on a round tray, 3 condiments, 2 petite vegetarian curries, and 2 different styles of basmathi rice. In the center was a round puffed bread, not nann, (sadly) but poori and papad, a thin, crisp cracker disc.

I started with the papad which had a delicate crunch to it. I dipped the poori into 3 different sauces, one consists of a tomato base, which was pretty watered down, and had neither depth nor flavor to it. The other sauce, a lighter shade of red was even worse, it tasted like tamarind juice: watery, acidic, and a bit spicy. The yogurt, a very common condiment in Indian cuisine sat there waiting for me to use, but it didn’t taste any better dipping the bread into it, it tasted like a cool creamy cucumber yogurt. This was the part where I wish I had some spicy tandoori chicken to go with it. The curry tasted exceptional.

The best part of the meal was the basmathi rice, it came plain and another with sautéed onions with spinach, cooked in a rich broth which gave the rice its yellow color. The way they made it with the special blend of spices gave it a tantalizing aroma and a delicious taste.  In 3 spoonfuls, it was gone.

For dessert, I ordered the gulab jamun, ($4.45) a popular dessert in Southern Asia. It was 2 pieces of fried dough, similar to the size of a munchkin you find at Dunkin Donuts, covered in sugary syrup. The top maintained a crunchy exterior but mid way down, the dough was just mushy from soaking too long in the syrup. It had a hint of sweeten condense milk flavor to it and a rose-like aroma but it was just too sweet for my taste. I rather walk down an avenue for a glazed doughnut from Dunkin.

Though the food was variably delicious, Petite Abeille already had me at hello. The restaurant’s endearing décor evoked both a countryside feel and a fairytale like atmosphere that fed my eyes with a view of tasteful colors.

While its lemon meringue walls displayed different pieces of art—a chalkboard showing the menu in a neat script on one pillar, the restaurant’s symbol of a bee on another—its tables were covered in blue and white checkered table cloth and arranged in a comfortable array that easily invited me in as if for a picnic.

As a Belgian restaurant and bar, Petite Abeille (French for “little bee”), is best known for its variety of sweet waffles and beers. However, it also offers a number of savory entrees and selection of omelets with their own Belgian twists, heavy on the mushroom, cheeses, and Belgian fries with just about any meaty dish.

Primarily a halal or vegetarian diner, I thought I’d try an omelet, but found them way too pricey at $12.50-$13. Instead, I opted for the $5 Petite Abeille Egg Sandwich. Normally served with spinach, bacon and cheddar on ciabatta bread, I asked them to hold the bacon and add tomatoes.

Waiting a long half hour for my sandwich, our charming waiter was extremely attentive to our table. However, the lunch rush hour arrived soon and the wait staff was far to busy to tend to us the same way throughout. So I recommend coming in the wee hours of the day to get the best out of this little bee. Still, with such a wait, you can be sure your food is fresh. I was confirmed of this when I received my fulfilling egg sandwich.

Smoke steaming out of the crisp ciabatta, the gooey cheese and vegetable combination oozing within and its salty scent wafting out, my mouth was watering immediately. Well seasoned, the melted cheese had a slightly bitter aftertaste, but it was quickly sweetened with the chunks of tomato, while the spinach balanced both tastes. After a bit of struggling to eat as neatly as possible and avoid melted cheddar streaming down my chin, only crumbs remained. At just $5 and a far cry from the much beloved Dunkin Donuts croissant, egg and cheese equivalent, this gourmet egg sandwich was a steal.

I attempted to then satisfy my sweet tooth with the  $9 Gaufre Banana Split: a waffle with vanilla ice cream, banana, chocolate sauce and whipped cream. I love bananas, but with a waffle, chocolate and whipped cream, they were absolutely scrumptious. A dismissible flaw, however, was that the chocolate sauce tasted too watered down. I dipped the cut corners of my soft and chewy waffle into the syrup to get just the right amount and texture. But the Wafels & Dinges truck’s thick and creamy toppings definitely beat the little bee’s.

Still, tantalized by the sweet aroma engulfing my senses, I almost forgot about the ice cream! Hidden beneath the whipped cream and I had to carve it out to taste it. The frigid contrast of the vanilla ice cream can be off putting with the rest of the warm, sugary goodness, though. So maybe I’d have this dessert sans ice cream next time. It would definitely be worth the visit. You could say Petite Abeille had me at goodbye as well.