Marlows Pigeon

Specials!

I went to Brooklyn for the first time this past May while I was in the city attending ICFF. I went on a design tour through Dumbo visiting various design showrooms and we had a fab fab fab lunch at The River Cafe just under the Brooklyn Bridge. I liked ole Brooklyn more than I would have imagined and blogged that it would be great to see more some time in the future.

Well my friends I have been back to Brooklyn! While attending another furniture show in the city my friend, John, mentioned that he HAD to take me to his friends’ restaurant in Brooklyn. He went on to say that some guys he used to work with in the city had gone to Brooklyn and opened a really cool restaurant and gourmet food market. Knowing I am a foodie he said he could not in good conscience let me leave without a road trip to Brooklyn to eat at…

Marlow & Sons! Well, why didn’t he say so! Of course I know that place. No, had never been but had seen the name popping up on blogs, tweets and reviews. I gave him the “for real you just remembered you know those guys and are just telling me  NOW” look. He got on the phone. Minutes later, dinner was arranged with owner. Psyched was I!

Cobbled streets, quaint shops and people strolling the sidewalks gave the entire scene a modern Norman Rockwell feel. Once inside Marlow & Sons we were shown to our table which happened to be dead ahead. I was told that during the day our table is actually a fresh farmer’s market. The shelves behind and around us were stocked with sundries from far and wide including, McVitties Biscuits and Hob Nobs – so yum. While drinks were being poured I was told that Marlow & Sons is just one establishment owned by Mark & Andrew. The also have “The Diner” around the corner and “Marlow & Daughters” down the street. Marlow & Daughters (yes, a baby girl had arrived) was a larger food emporium while The Diner was well, yeah a gourmet diner. They also put out a wonderful journal, aptly called “Diner Journal”,  full of food tidbits from all the staff and contributing writers. Subscribe. Its totally worth it. I read three copies and was hungry for more (no pun, really).

About that time Mark arrives with a friend, introductions are made around the table and voila – the first round of food is delivered. Hearty Soppressata, Delicate Finnochiona, Tender Prosciutto, Toscano and Nostrano mingled with Grayson, Bayley Hazen Blue and Ayr Cheeses while glistening little olives invited me to gobble them up. More wine and beers went round, the conversation bubbled and another round of food made a graceful entrance. Salads & pates were shared with good crusty bread.

The highlight of my evening was when Mark invited me on a grand tour of the kitchen – the underbelly of any restaurant and my favorite place, of course. Down a tiny flight of stairs below Marlow is a tidy kitchen with the happiest chefs & cooks I had ever come across. Maybe that was the wine. Another flight of stairs and SURPRISE…we were at the Diner. So clever.

After dinner we danced away a few calories at the bar in the next room. These guys have it all figured out

Thank you Mark! Call me when you are ready for that “Farm to Street Dinner”!!!

As for you dear blog reader, All I am sayin – is GO! Make the field trip to Brooklyn and visit the world of Marlow. My guess is it won’t be your last trip to Brooklyn either.

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Most New Yorkers claim to be ready for adventure but when someone mentions Brooklyn, the typical response is “what a schlep!”  Enough is enough, it’s time to hop on the L train and discover our neighbor to the east, Williamsburg, Brooklyn. A hood where family establishments stand along side the nouveau.  There’s no better way to read a neighborhood’s pulse than by their sandwiches, the true barometer of people’s desire for value and delicious food.   We’ve seen what comes out of Red Hook and Sunset Park so when my friend Charlie told me his cousin and Williamsburg expert, Andrea, was ready to open my eyes with a full tour of her hood, I gladly accepted.  Part one offers NYCFoodGuy’s take on Bedford Cheese Shop and Marlow & Sons.

Spicy & Mild Chorizo at Bedford Cheese Shop

Sopressata & Cheese Pizza at Marlow & Sons

Front of the room fare - Desserts, Scones & Muffins from Marlow & Sons

Bedford Cheese Shop aka the Hipster Stiff Arm

We came for sandwiches, we left with chorizo and a vendetta against laissez-faire hipsters.  There was one tray of pre-made sandwiches on the counter, bread on the back wall and a ton of meats and cheeses in the display cases.  A perfect recipe for sandwich creation, right? Wrong.  One employee of this bedroom-sized cheese and meat shop didn’t even take the time to unfold his arms from his hooded sweatshirt while telling us, “No, we don’t make sandwiches here.  That’s the only one we have.”  This was news to Andrea, my lovely tour guide for the day, because she has had sandwiches made for her at Bedford Cheese Shop.  We immediately realized we were victims of the hipster stiff arm.

Spicy (red string) & Mild (white string) Chorizo at Bedford Cheese Shop

My friend and all around good guy Charlie, was just as surprised by the confused and annoyed look he received from the counter-girl when he asked her to slice the spicy Spanish chorizo he purchased. God forbid we actually wanted to eat it right then and there.  The hipster stiff arm strikes again!

I will not be returning to Bedford Cheese Shop next time I’m in Williamsburg because I like patronizing stores that appreciate my business. Bedford Cheese Shop is too cool for school but unfortunately for them, NYC Food Guy says class is not in session.

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Marlow & Sons Is Not Worth The Trip for Lunch

I haven’t been to the heralded Marlow & Sons for dinner, but after trying several of their early afternoon offerings, I can confidently say it’s not worth trekking to this southwest Williamsburg spot for lunch.   If you happen to be nearby, and want to stop in, your best bet is pizza or something from the dessert counter, but pass on sitting down for brunch.  I can’t speak to the deliciousness of dinner at Marlow & Sons, but all of the press I’ve read has generally been positive.

Marlow & Sons Dining Room Interior

Nothing we ate was bad, but nothing really impressed.  Since it was a sandwich tour, we started with the Muffaletta ($11), flimsy focaccia stuffed with mortadella, sopressata, salami, coppa, provolone and an overpowering olive tapenade.  For $11 I would like to see this New Orleans classic stuffed with a little more meat and a little less olive tapenade, which really dominated every bite.

Marlow & Sons Muffaletta ($11) was overwhelmed by olive tapenade

Chorizo with potatoes and sunny side eggs ($12) was recommended by our waiter and while it was tasty, the tomato-based sauce didn’t allow the chorizo’s spice to shine.  The best bites of this dish are when you pile a little bit of everything on the buttered and toasted slices of bread.

Chorizo & Eggs ($12) lacked the spice I was hoping for

The pizza with sopressata ($4.25) was easily my favorite dish of the meal.  The flavor was definitely homemade, from the airy crust to the sweet sauce, but the slightly sharp sections of burnt cheese were the best part.

Pizza with Sopressata ($4.25) is best where the cheese is burnt

Marlow & Sons front room, which turns into a dining area in the evening, is populated by a few others pizzas, sold by the slice…

Marlow & Sons Front Room Fare - Pizza by the slice ($4.25 each)

…a nice selection of other sandwiches…

Front of the room fare - Sandwiches at Marlow & Sons

…desserts including attractive white cake, milk chocolate frosted cupcakes…

Front of the room fare - Milk Chocolate Frosted Cupcakes from Marlow & Sons

…other cupcakes, scones and muffins…

Front of the room fare - Cupcakes, Muffins & Scones at Marlow & Sons

and a chocolate chip cookie featuring discs of bittersweet chocolate ensconsed in a buttery, slightly salty dough.  It was a tasty cookie, but nothing to write home about.

Front of the room fare - Chocolate Chip Cookie from Marlow & Sons

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It used to be I could eat an entire slice of seven-layer chocolate cake, with ice cream and, oh, hell, a squirt of Redi-Whip, without blinking.  I wholly enjoyed a can of Coke (or two), or a jumbo bag of Haribo gummi bears.   I saw nothing remotely wrong with Yodels. Give me sticky, sticky sweet.  Right into my late twenties, I had the palate of a seven-year old boy, at least when it came to sweets. 

Somewhere in the last three years I became an adult with an adult palate.  I think it occurred when I drank my first Manhattan and didn’t make an Ewwww! face; to my surprise I realized I rather enjoyed chilled bourbon and that subtle hint of sweet vermouth.  I immediately called my mother to tell her the good news (a long, long time ago, we were sitting at a bar together and I asked for a sip of her cocktail; she acquiesced and after barely swallowing I responded with the Ewwww! face, it was then she wisely said I would one day be mature enough to appreciate a Manhattan.) Like many other things, it was a right of passage.  The evolution was fast and furious: soon after I realized a cheese course really was an appropriate ending to a meal, rather than a beginning.  On a flight to Paris a year later, I ordered a scotch on the rocks (like my father) and was doubly shocked to find that sipping such an abrasive cocktail was actually quite enjoyable and ultimately soothing.  More interesting was the increasing distance I was putting between myself and those sugary treats of my younger years.  Now, it would be crazy for me to give them all up entirely: I still go for a bag of M&M’s, I just need to eat them with a bag of pretzels (another problem in and of itself).  No, what satisfies me now are nuanced, complex flavors that require slow eating (or sipping).  Give me smoky, savory, salty.

My first encounter with salt in dessert was an accident: one of my best friends, an avid baker who never follows rules, measurements and who is easily distracted by almost everything (phones ringing, birds flying, the television, you get the picture) somehow added what can only be surmised as a shit-ton of Hawaiian sea salt to these bars she was making.  The bar itself was a chocolate-oatmeal sort of thing.  Well, the salt was a bit much (we told her they were fine) but for me it was a subtle revelation: sweet and salty things could be really, really good.

The sweet and salty brownie from Baked, photo courtesy of Flickr

Now let me be clear: not any salt will do.  In the last two weeks I have had two desserts that set the standard of perfection in sweet-salty goodness.  Both use sea salt, and it seems the coarser, the better.  The first was at Marlow and Sons (you may read my post here) where they take a ridiculously rich, dense caramel/dark chocolate torte and sprinkle grey sea salt on top, effectively cutting all the “this-is-way-too-much” sweetness and creating something entirely new.  It’s so divine my friend Lucy (a regular foodie consultant on this blog),  upon hearing my rhapsodies on this salty dessert, brought me a chocolate caramel brownie from Baked, an adorable bakery in Red Hook, Brooklyn.   It’s a rich, moist brownie, its center filled with gooey caramel, and embedded on the crusty top are crystals of fleur de sel.  I have savored it for two days, marveling all the goodness. A thing of such beauty is worth a trip to Red Hook. 

I do realize these desserts play on the lovely pairing of caramel, chocolate and salt.  But is it crazy to think I might add a sprinkle of salt to all of my desserts?  The interplay between sugar and salt is delightful.It doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.

Baked, 359 Van Brunt St, Brooklyn, NY.  If you can’t make it out, at least check out their website (they do wedding cakes and all sorts of pretty things!) and maybe even order online!  And I hate to admit this, but Oprah’s already a big fan of these brownies.

Marlow and Sons, read my post (and get all the info) here.

Friday, October 10, the day following Yom Kippur, a Jew’s last chance to repent for the previous year’s vice. With the final blasts of the ram’s horn fading into whispery memory, all is somehow forgiven. But with these last moments of ritual comes a hunger– not just that feeling in your stomach from an all-day fast, if indeed your observance compelled you. It’s your soul’s momentary redemption, and with a clean slate and a fresh start, you begin to hunger anew for sin. Which is to say, you begin to hunger anew for swine.

Your despicable impulses take you to the banks of the most fetid body of water on the Eastern seaboard.

Can you smell that smell? The Gowanus Canal. (photos: Jill)

In the yard, a menacing beer line forms…

$1 Six Point Hop Obamas from 6-7pm. Election season has never tasted so delicious.

Bel Air strikes up a delightfully thunderous twang in celebration of Ear Farm’s third birthday.

A 200-pound, organic, grass-fed heritage hog from upstate’s Fleisher’s gets its final flavor seal.

Marlow and Sons’ Tom Mylan slices pig, distributes cracklins. Holy Moses, indeed.

It is laid on a table for serving… (click for larger version)

Tacos de carnitas.

Apple crisp. This has no pork in it.

Darkness plunges the canal into a murky glow of streetlight, ignominy hidden.

What I’m reading right now:

• The Diner Journal, a food magazine written by the folks who run Marlow and Sons , Bonita, and Diner in Brooklyn
• The Art of Eating magazine, a quarterly food magazine devoted to “tradition”, “simplicity”, and a “sense of place”
• Bread and Butter Press, a refreshing, no-frills food blog