Sunday, 29 November 2015

Roberta's Pizza

There is no question that Roberta's pizza is the definition of a hipster haven. Drawing hungry people from far and wide to the definitely-still-up-and-coming neighbourhood of Bushwick, they're serving up the best pizza in Brooklyn -- perhaps even the best pizza in New York -- whilst also growing their own produce on a rooftop garden, making honey from their own bees which feed off their own plants, broadcasting all my favorite New York radio shows in their studio out the back, and baking their own bread.

12.30pm on Thanksgiving weekend and the place was already packed out. Being just 2 of us, we squeezed in to the only spaces left on a communal table. Larger parties were left to roam Bushwick until there would be space for them in 90 minutes. Maybe not ideal on a rainy Saturday, but definitely worth the wait. And there's plenty of wall art to discover on the streets around and about in that enforced free time.

It was our first visit so we stuck to the pizza. We admired the beautiful dishes that were ordered by the girls next to us, and vowed that next time we'd go with emptier stomachs to make space for some of them too.

2 perfectly charred pizzas soon arrived at our table. The Lil' Stinker was covered in tomatoes, mozzarella, parmesan, double garlic (unsure of what that means, but it tastes really good), onion and pepperoncini pepper. Perfectly spicy, a little bit sweet - an absolute winner. The other choice, the Good Girl, was covered in salty, crispy kale, pork sausage, taleggio, and more garlic. There is no better way to eat kale than when charred, doused in cheese, and folded up inside the crust of a blackened, chewy, handmade pizza. 

Roberta's has jumped write to the top of our favourite New York places: they won our hearts serving up the best pizzas this side of the Atlantic in the hippest of spaces. We'll be back for more very, very soon. 

Roberta's, 261 Moore Street, Brooklyn, NY, 11206

Saturday, 28 November 2015

5 Things & 3 More

5 happy things from Thanksgiving week:

1. Wednesday night ice-cream at Ample Hills. We had a mountain of ice-cream. It was amazing.
2. A Thanksgiving feast.
3. Commuting on an empty subway.
4. Bubbles.
5. Using our new made-with-our-own-hands pottery.

3 things to read this weekend:

1. Another reason to walk rather than take the subway in NYC.
2. Why it's okay that in my head Jennifer Lawrence really is Katniss Everdeen.
3. Freya took more stunning photos of her most recent trip to India.

Happy weekend! 


Sunday, 22 November 2015

Pure Thai Cookhouse

Last Friday evening we made our Broadway début. Before we took our seats to watch Keira, coincidentally, also make her Broadway début, playing the lead role in the bleakly intense story of Thérese Raquin, we needed some pre-theatre fodder to sustain us through the melodrama.

Our hopes of a comforting, nourishing bowl of Ippudo's ramen were dashed when we arrived at 5.45 to be told the wait would be at least 2 hours. My maths told me that that would mean we would be taking our first slurp as Keira was taking her first stomp across the stage. Not ideal. The back up plan was Pure Thai Cookhouse, just around the corner. There, the wait was 30 minutes i.e. just enough time for a glass of wine at Ardesia before two seats would be ready for us.

After a well spent half hour we wiggled in to our two seats at the slim wooden bar which runs down one side of this tiny Thai restaurant. The small open kitchen at the front is filled with woks, huge pots, and lots of people, cooking up an authentic storm in an authentic looking kitchen, for all the customers to see. If we had been outside, if it had been hot, and if we hadn't been surrounded by Americans, we could have been back at our favourite Bangkok restaurant, Jok's, which we reminisce about every time Thai food comes our way.

B sipped on a Chang beer, noting that it perhaps didn't taste quite as good when not drunk in situ. Luckily this wasn't the case for the food which was just as packed full of spices, crunch, and heat as it was when cooked by a man named Jok who has just one giant wok, and was eaten on a plastic chair in a street in the middle of a hectic Thai city.

The classic wok basil with chicken was fragrant with holy basil and garlic, the sauce soaked up by freshly steamed rice, the green beans adding colour and crispness to a warming bowl of comfort food. B selected the special of the day: thinly sliced steak with basil, omelette, and a good dose of chili. Every mouthful was quickly gobbled up. We resisted the sticky coconut rice for dessert and said a sad goodbye to the fantastically friendly, smiley, efficient waitress as we braced ourselves for the cold outside and a harrowing two and a half hours of Broadway theatre.

Pure Thai Cookhouse, 766 9th Avenue, New York, NY 10019