Whitman’s

Walt Whitman once wrote “A great city is that which has the greatest men and the greatest women.” Whitman died in 1892, a good quarter of a decade before the cheeseburger reached full popularity. Therefore it is with no small irony that the relatively new burger restaurant on 1st ave. and 9th st. derives it’s namesake from the fully-bearded poet.

The Juicy Lucy at Whitmans'

Entering the small restaurant you are faced with an counter to order at, and a counter to eat at. Upon further inspection there is a small staircase that leads you to a dining room downstairs.  Buried underneath ninth street the candle-lit room has enough tables for about 20 diners. The menu isn’t loaded with options, but the quality depictions put the salivary glands to work.

The Juicy Lucy, which seems to be their signature menu item, is probably the greatest best place to start. The menu describes the sandwich as “beef short rib blend stuffed with pimento cheese, caramelized onion, bibb lettuce, tomato, spicy pickles, sauce,” and while it’s only ‘stuffed’ with cheese the other items gently sit atop the beef.  Not all food comes with warnings however this menu reads, “*caution; juicy lucy is very hot in the middle and might squirt.” In this particular sandwich’s case ooze is probably a more accurate representation of what happened. Suffice it to say, the cheeseburger is remarkable, and satiating.

Unfortunately some of the other options are less satisfying. The PB&B Burger, or “ny grass fed beef, organic peanut butter, heritage farm bacon.” Is exactly, and precisely just that. No lettuce, tomato, or onion. No mayonnaise, or ketchup.  No special sauce, and no thick, juicy, cheese-stuffed, beef patty. Peanut butter. Ground Beef. Bacon. Dry, odd,  and luckluster.

The menu also boasts the $12 “locally sourced dry-aged grass-fed beef, seared onion, bibb lettuce, tomato. Blue ribbon bun…” know as “The Walt.” Walt Whitman, considering his description of what made a great city, would be less disappointed in modern day Los Angeles, than a diner would be with this meaningless, and fruitless effort in taste.  When served a high end meat, at an increased price you expect a flavor-topia. Instead the result is a rather run of the mill burger. In the end, maybe American farmers started stuffing cows with hormones to make them better. To improve taste, as well as production.

When eating often we try to work around our plate to save the best for last, and this review is no exception. If you ever happen to eat at Whitman’s do yourself a favor, order the Bleu Cheese fries.  Since the burgers are rather small, you won’t mind having the extra food. More importantly you will never look at cheese fries the same way again. Delicately tossed in a bleu cheese crumbles and oil, these fries are simply delectable. The potato crisps themselves are delicious, but there can be no words to match the beauty of what is done in this magical bowl. Shared by the table, or as a side to your burger ,these fries are the great neutralizer and closing argument in the debate about whether this restaurant is worth a visit.

Walt Whitman once claimed “A great city is that which has the greatest men and women…” but then again, how can we trust a man who never had a cheeseburger?

A Salt & Battery

Right on the precipice of the West Village sits a tiny Fish & Chips shop that is serving up some of the cities best british cuisine. A Salt & Battery not only whips up fried delights but makes a concerted effort to offer sustainable and thoughtful fried delights. An essential place to keep in your repertoire of afternoon snackeries.

A Salt & Battery. Picture Courtesy of http://delayna.com/nyc/

The storefront is minimal, as is the menu. The options are Haddock, Pollock, Sole, and Whiting. The restaurant recently switched to Pollock from Cod, which it claims are almost identical in flavor, due to the incredible over fishing we’ve done world-wide. The assorted fish are augmented with a selection of choice sides including fried & battered beets, onion rings, and of course chips.

When your ordered is called  it comes fresh from the deep frier, and piping hot. The Haddock was moist and purposeful. The fried batter is a perfect golden brown, and using the plastic fork and knife, which sit at the bar/table that wraps around the interior of the eatery, it’s easy to pull apart the flakey white Sea creature.

Perfectly fried Haddock. Picture courtesy of gracenotesnyc.com

The fish is accompanied with a mild tartar sauce, or if you choose a little vinegar doused onto it will serve for a more tangy, and lighter option. Although little beats the age-old combination of fried and cream. Who ever said that British food was sub-standard?

The one disappointment would come in the chips. Although ironic, I think it’s best to leave french fries to the Americans. It seems one of our greatest talents is turning a potato into a potent force on the palate. The fries in this case suffer from an under-seasoning, and a natural sogginess that applies after digging through a succulent fish sitting on top of them. Although truth remains, fries are like pizza or sex, when they’re good they’re great, and when they’re bad, they’re still good. I’ve never met a Fry I wouldn’t eat… or copulate with.

While most of the menu is remarkable, there is one item that beats them all. Don’t pass up the opportunity to profoundly affect your palate or your bowel movements. A basket of lightly battered, hotter than the watches sold on the street corner, beets will change the way you think about your life, and possibly redirect some of the things you knew most clearly.  You might want to check your horoscope just to make sure you’re ready for a life change before you dabble in this potent treat.