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Restaurant Review: Keens Steakhouse
Sep 30th, 2009 by plumpdumpling

I went into my dinner at Keens Steakhouse with an extremely open mind. I’m a lover of Peter Luger, but I was under the impression that $90 steak is $90 steak wherever you go, and I was excited about the scotch-and-cigars atmosphere of Keens.

I hadn’t known to specify in my reservation that my boyfriend and I wanted to sit in the main dining room, so I was worried when all of the people in front of us were sent to different parts of the restaurant, but we were luckily seated downstairs under the ceiling entirely covered in clay tobacco pipes. The atmosphere is much darker and cozier than Luger’s, with dark walls and low light to contrast Luger’s whitewashed walls and bright windows shining in the midst of nowhere Brooklyn. This is the place you come to slurp oysters and talk about the things gentlemen do.


I love how it looks like the woman behind Kamran is blowing in his ear.

None of the appetizers enticed us in the least–though I’m sure my boyfriend would have jumped at the $65 seafood platter had I given him any indication that I was interested–so we opted for two side dishes with our slab of meat instead. We ordered the porterhouse for two, carrots with brown butter, and boiled baby potatoes with parsley and butter. For the record, any kind of restaurant with a separate menu section entirely for potatoes is my kind of restaurant.

We ordered our steak medium rare, because that’s how my boyfriend likes it, and I prayed that it’d be served on a hot dish like it is at Luger so I could allow my pieces to continue to cook. It was indeed, but we really didn’t need it to be, because the ends were so much darker than the middle that they were perfect for me and my desire for blackened beef.

Right away, I noticed that the plate just didn’t look as good as it does at Luger. The steak was smaller, and it was already cut off the bone. The bone was pathetically propped up on one end of the plate, which was almost worse than it not being there at all. I waited a minute to give our server a chance to put several slices on my plate like the waiters do at Luger, but he just walked away. It’s not that I even like that they put the steak right on your plate at Luger, but I somehow expected it.

The first bite of steak was just as juicy and steaky as any great steak I’ve had, but after that, I honestly believe that I could tell a difference between it and the steak at Luger. To be super, super honest, I think the steak I had at Primehouse might have actually been better than this one, but I don’t want to say that and risk losing my cred and have people think my palate is inferior.

There’s no doubt, though, that the sides we chose were better than anything we’ve had at Luger. My boyfriend said the cooked carrots were the best he’s had; we loved all of the butter left in the dish for spooning over our plates. The potatoes were the kind you close your eyes to savor completely.

My boyfriend ordered the crème brûlée, and I excitedly told him about a review I’d read in which the writer gushed about the deep dish that left plenty of cool custard underneath the layer of custard warmed by the torching of the sugar on top. What the reviewer failed to remind us was that a deeper versus wider dish meant there was a lot less caramel to enjoy.

However, everything I read about the hot fudge sundae was true. The woman at the table next to us was so impressed by the look of it that she leaned over to ask what it was. What it was was a giant cocktail glass filled with hot fudge an inch deep, several scoops of vanilla AND chocolate ice cream, whipped cream, slivered almonds, and wafer triangles. My boyfriend complained that the whipped cream didn’t compare to the schlag at Luger, but I was too busy having a heart attack over how much the hot fudge tasted just like my mom’s homemade sauce to notice.

I wanted to like Keens better than Peter Luger so I could stick to Manhattan when I want a great steak, but it looks like I’m stuck traveling to Brooklyn when I want to impress someone with a stack of meat. Keens wins for atmosphere, service, sides, and desserts hands down, though. And for saving me $20 on cab fare.

Max Brenner Does the Ice Cream Sandwich
Sep 25th, 2009 by plumpdumpling

I know there are a lot of Max Brenner haters out there. I agree that their menu full of quotes from some bald dude likening eating chocolate to lovemaking is pretty laughable (and sorta gross before dinner), and I agree that waiting in line for an hour with all of the tourists sucks when you feel like you should be entitled to special treatment as someone who pays $2,000 in rent to actually live in the city. But I still crave it.

My friend Beth and I ate at the one in Union Square a few weeks ago and were full enough from our large dinner portions that we were unsure we were able to pack in dessert, but dessert is the whole point of Max Brenner, so we decided to share the Gooey Marshmallow Fudge Brownie Fluffernutter Ice Cream Sandwich. Ridiculous name, right? But I guess it’s polite to let your customers know exactly what they’re in for.

The photo doesn’t do it justice, but the description sure does:

Deep chocolate peanut butter ice cream, marshmallow fluff in between the famous Max Brenner “Oh My God” very chocolately soft baked cookie, with extra milk chocolate drizzle. Served with warm peanut butter dip.

That’s right. Peanut butter dip. Not baby poo.

I didn’t think I’d ever be able to get anything but the fondue (served with milk, dark, and white chocolates heated over candles!), but those fudgey cookies can’t be beat. The crunchy crumbles added great texture, and the peanut butter sauce was so good that I cleaned the bowl while Beth was in the restroom. Mwahaha.

Pretzel + Hot Dog = Pretzel Dog
Sep 23rd, 2009 by plumpdumpling

It’s an Auntie Anne’s pretzel wrapped around a Nathan’s hot dog, and I ate it at the airport, which is really the only place you should be able to find a hot dog wrapped in a pretzel. This one only had 310 calories and 20 grams of fat, so I can’t wait to find a place that sells the JUMBO pretzel dog so I can get the full 600-calorie experience.

I will be dipping that one in cheese sauce and wrapping a slice of pizza around each bite, justyouwaitandsee.

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