Stay away from this bar. Do not go here. For anything. The owner showed us photos of his “women” – these were gringa travelers who had clearly been drugged, Devil’s Breath or otherwise. It was disgusting. We warned the nearby hostel staff and let them alert the local officials, though I doubt anything ever came of it. Just steer far clear, especially women. It still gives me chills of disgust.
Address: La Casa Del Habano, Calle 24 #88-38, Cartagena, Bolívar, Colombia
Welcome to a classic Gringo Trail party hostel. This place is chock full of Colombians, French, Canadians, Germans, Swiss, Spanish (OK, anywhere in Europe), and the ubiquitous Israelis blowing off post-military service steam. This is a great place to meet fellow travelers to go adventuring with, trade travel stories and recommendations, and book your next excursion. Cheap, clean enough, helpful staff, and great location – what’s not to love?
Address: El Viajero Cartagena Hostel, 39 Calle 38 #10-45, Cartagena, Bolívar, Colombia
After having such a great experience on the first visit, I knew I had to haul the media-porteña for a second visit soon. Arriving 15 minutes late for our 9pm Saturday evening reservation, we barely had time to hand our coats to the greet staff and say hello to Steve behind the bar (who remembered my cocktail from a month prior), before being shown to what is already my favorite table in the place: a small table in the back corner. You can see enough of the dining room if you wish, but it feels more intimate than certain other parts of the room. The table service differed somewhat from the bar service in pacing and steps, but the same high level of service persisted.
At the table the server brings by a butcher block exhibiting each of their signature cuts and explains texture, preparation, sourcing, and anything else you may want to know. We went for it again, this time with the Cote de Boeuf. I don’t mean to give the salad or Kumamotos we started with short shrift, but let’s be clear what we came here for: the beef is outstanding, cooked spot-on with the right amount of medium-rare blood and salty outer char. The brussels sprouts, the wines by the glass (we went for the Catalonian red, which the Barcelonan could not help but correct the menu’s printing of the name), and the cocktails were like a 440 Hz A-note: scientifically perfect in every way.
When the bill came, my companion nearly fell out of her seat. I didn’t even flinch. To me, it was like a Ferrari: it was worth every red cent I paid for it and I look forward to happily shelling out in the future for one of the consistently finest meals I’ve had in years.
Address: 2d Visit, Bowery Meat Company, 9 East 1st Str., New York, NY
It’s taken a while to do this particular review. The problem is that when I started this blog with Nate, I planned to NOT review things I didn’t care for. That is, no negative reviews. Having worked in the service industry for many years I know everyone has a rough night here and there and, at any rate, people like different things. However, I’m laying this down as a marker just so that I (and my friends) don’t fall for the hype again.
Upon returning from a truly decadent trip to Spain over my birthday, we wanted to have a fancy dinner out to celebrate the aging that happened while I was gone. After a bit of research, I settled on Locanda. We had a 9pm reservation on a Saturday night in July – obviously the place would be busy. However, I was not prepared for how jarringly loud and mall-esque the place was. Look up the antonym for “intimate” in the thesaurus and there should be a picture of this place. I almost ran back out the door, if not for the exciting things I’d read about the food, I would have.
It was hard to eat anything between screaming across the table at one another over the din of the people seated six inches to each side of us. Of course, the eating came to a halt when I pulled a huge long blonde hair out of my lamb – actually, out of my mouth. I’m not blonde and my date has black curly hair. This came from the kitchen. It was foul. The server seemed to need a lengthy explanation of the situation. I attempted to oblige him as discreetly as possible as I saw no reason for all the other folks sitting on top of us to be grossed out as well. In the end, the only thing comped from my check was the chocolate sundae thing that they give free to anyone who claims birthday. It took forever to get the check, pay and get the heck out of that place and I will certainly never go back and cannot recommend a visit. What a bummer.
Address: Locanda Verde, 377 Greenwich St., New York, NY
I had read about this place in Bloomberg and checked out their website. We stopped off here at 9pm on a Saturday night. It was no shock that waiting for a table for two would take an hour. We were able to snag two seats at the small bar, which are full menu service, first come, first served.
The bartenders, Steve and Brendan, were great: excellent service, well-made Manhattans (I’m a bit particular about those), sincere menu suggestions, and just plain good fun. Brendan kept us primed with amuse-bouches: house cured salami with a bacon-infused crostini and great little arancini. After a short deliberation (and another cocktail) my buddy and I split the 20 oz. chateaubriand, medium rare.
When the food came, we felt brilliant! The steak had the perfect crisp saltiness, almost crust-like, on the outside and gorgeous red in the center, laid out in six perfect slices with white baby potatoes and brussel sprouts and a side of a magical, piping hot mushroom sauce. The potatoes in particular were a hit for me, with a lite “whang” (as my dear old Papaw would say) of garlic on the outside, rich and buttery inside. The steak itself was just perfect: a great piece of meat, rich, delicious umami flavors, succulent and easy to cut and chew. We almost fought over the last piece. It was that good. They could have charged me double and I would not have complained (at $125, maybe just a little).
From start to finish – the greet stand, the barkeeps, the décor (including the huge canoe hanging over our heads), the cocktails, and most especially the food – it was a fantastic experience and I will go back soon. If you have the time (because it’s worth making an experience of it) and appetite, I strongly suggest you stop in.
Address: Bowery Meat Company, 9 East 1st Str., New York, NY
Blink and you might miss it. I’m very hesitant to review this little gem because, well, it’s so tiny I’m afraid I won’t get a seat next time I go. They don’t take reservations – they don’t have to. Their menu consists of charcuterie, cheese, vegetables, and a few seafood small-plates to go with the featured oysters. Usually, I order a few rounds of the oysters of the day – $1-1.50 for the chef’s choice of whatever they got a good deal on. The oysters are properly shucked, fresh, and accompanied with fresh grated horseradish, as well as the usual cocktail and mignonette. The place is a no-brainer and one of my favorite little spots for now and I can’t wait until they open up a location in the East Village.
Address: Virgola, 28 Greenwich Ave, New York, NY
Tertulia is what happens when a celebrity chef feels hemmed in by his creation (Boqueria) and longs for a place of his own. Seamus Mullen went for it with Tertulia, which claims to focus on cuisine from the Asturias region of Spain. I’ve never been to that part of Spain, but the menu is full of dishes I do recognize. And love. This is also the only place outside of San Sebastian that I’ve found proper Spanish sidra, poured correctly, no less. They do a fine pulpo, albóndigas, and the best arroz negro I’ve had . . . other than mine, of course. The tapas and tablas are well chosen and executed. I’ve always wanted to get the chuletón – beef rib steak – but have never been able to muster the appetite for its girth. If you have a real love of Spanish food and drink, you can’t go wrong here. Make your reservation today.
Address: Tertulia, 359 6th Ave, New York, NY
When you are in Pamplona and it is San Fermines and you are dancing, running, singing at the top of your lungs with a bottle in one hand and a stranger’s hand in the other, you will need jamon. You will need jamon worse than you ever thought anyone could ever need jamon and you will need it now. There’s no other place to consider.
Address: Bar El Vallado, Plaza Consistorial, 2, 31001, Pamplona, Spain
A nice slate and herb nose, with a slight cheese-rind mustiness that works just right. Deep garnet coloring and medium to light body. Light white pepper and gentle juiciness come on early with a hint of grassiness. Cherries, brisk red fruits, plum and bright acidity blends well with the ease of structure and nearly non-existent tannins. This is an excellent light red when you’re not feeling like the usual punch in the mouth reds that I favor. Just the right amount of character – I don’t tend toward French wines, but I’m glad we got this one. Picked this one up at La Petite Jurassienne (56 Rue de la Buffa) cheese shop in Nice, France. I have no idea whether it’s available in the US or at what price.
Down a small side street along Mercado Santa Caterina in Upper Borne (yes, I made that up), I found this place only because I was taken there by locals who literally had to step into the street, wave and holler at me, to find it the first time. It doesn’t get any more local than this. Don Rufo stands behind the bar, cooking and pouring cañas with a healthy dose of old bartender spice. The first time I went we sat at a table next to the bar and carried on with him all night – our first query about the freshness of the langostinos resulted in Rufo waving at a bar patron and saying “hell, I don’t know, ask that lady – she just brought them in off the boat!” Seared whole on his flattop grill and dressed with salt, olive oil from the cooking, and lemon – limón y sal indeed – just fantastic. The grilled octopus here usually starts with a fight at the table, then ends with a second or third order. Closing out the tab is an iterative process with Rufo asking what we had – and estimating so low we had to adjust our tab up quite a bit. That first visit ended with dueling magic shows from, on one hand, a gentleman from LA who just happens to be the famed cinematographer of the upcoming Batman vs. Superman flic, and my friend Luis on the other. Luis won by all counts with his “Portuguese Magic” bit.
My second visit, though a little less eventful than the three-bottles-of-wine-and-magic-tricks dinner, was so excellent we forgot all about our budding hangovers. We covered much of the same ground – fresh shrimp and octopus two ways – as my earlier visit. It was all just as excellent at lunch, as dinner. The back room service from Rufo’s son was as hilarious as the front room, with plates and curses flying on occasion and food and drink coming fast and delicious. I can’t get enough of this place and hope Don Rufo stays in business for years to come, but never changes.
Address: Casa Marí y Rufo, Carrer de Freixures 11, 08003 Barcelona, Spain
Posto Novo 