Up Barley Creek with a Paddle

As you know, the fam and I make frequent trips to Staten Island for pageant-related hoopla. One the way back from said hoopla, being creates of habit, we like to stop at The Crossings Outlet Mall in Tannersville, PA. It’s not as big as Waterloo or as luxe as Woodberry Commons, but it has the clutch stores we love: BCBG, J. Crew, Banana Republic, Coach, and Bass (for my Dad). This time, we even spent some quality time in Cole Haan, which means gorgeous shoes, which makes Shelby a happy girl. We hit The Corssings this year on Mother’s Day, which meant I bought Mom’s socks for her in Goldtoe, and lunch once we were sartorially satiated, just down the road at the Barley Creek Brewing Company.


This was our second time dining at Barley Creek, and while it’s not world class dining or the most original brewhouse ever, the food is solid, and the décor is nice. It was a little less clean this time than our last visit, and the wait for food was longer, but it was a holiday, after all. The place is decked out in true Pocono/Adirondack style, with exposed beams and lots of woodwork, and the menu is straight up pub comfort food. Across the parking lot, the “Pint Size Park,” also serves food in an outdoor space where you can play waffle ball, horseshoes, and bocce ball.

Happy Mother’s Day, Sue!

I’ve had the beer cheese soup before and loved it, but this time around, the pot roast burger won me over. I was most fired up about the crispy onion strings on top, but it turns out the mashed potatoes were the star of this show. They weren’t reinventing the wheel or anything, but they were smooth, they tasted of real, Russet potatoes, and they didn’t overpower the rest of the plate. I can’t say the same for the onion poppy-seed bun, which was just too much bread for this dish, a theme repeated on my parents’ plates. I also would have liked the line cook who assembled my plate to take a little more care when selecting the pieces of pot roast to use on my sandwich – they were more than one slice I declined to eat due to fat and gristle. However, the overall flavors was good, and the fried onions were, indeed, yummy, giving a crisp texture juxtaposition to all that lush gravy. Even the sweet potato fries were out of the ordinary good – the steak fry style orange planks were sweet and much crunchier on the outside than you usually get from this menu item.

Mom went for another burger – the bacon blue. This wasn’t the thickest burger, or the juiciest, but Mom appreciated the very flavorful bacon and blue cheese. Again, her Kaiser roll was a little too heavy and threatened to overpower the beef, bacon, and cheese. Cleverly, she removed the top piece of bun, as I had, and merrily treated the burger as a knife-and-fork sandwich.

Joelle ordered mozzarella sticks, and told me they were good with a great deal of enthusiasm, as she shunned the marinara and grabbed for the ketchup. She’s 13, and maybe not the most developed of palates, but I trust her judgment on this most sophisticated of dishes. Out of the mouths of babes, ya know.

Dad had the cheessteak, which I was very relieved they didn’t call a Philly cheesesteak, because you know how that bugs me. He wolfed it down and didn’t offer me a bite. Once the plate was nearly clean, he fessed up that the steak and cheese were delicious, the green bell peppers a wee bit overpowering, and again, the bread ratio totally off. Barley Creek’s cooks know how to coax flavor out of their meats and cheese, but maybe need to rethink their bakery choices.

As stuffed full of carbs as we all were, dessert seemed prudent. After all, it WAS a holiday, and Joelle had just told me the day before than an Oreo she ate was the best cookie she’d ever had (I imagine her mother would differ on this opinion). So yeah, we ordered the oreo stack and four spoons. Here’s what came out:

Oh baby! Again, this was not the most elegant of desserts, but it was rich, it was creamy, and it fortified us with enough sugar to get through the rest of our day. Plus, it provided Joelle with more cookies and cream action than such a tiny thing should probably be able to handle. Delicious!

I didn’t score the Barley Creek Brewery at the time, because while everything they served us was tummy-filling good grub, it wasn’t blowing my mind. I think I’d give it a six in retrospect – solid food and a nice setting, but not much above average. That being said, if you’re shopping in Tannersville, this is better than some of the other choices right near the outlet mall, and I’m betting the pint size park really is fun. So give it a try next time you’re in the Poconos, and let me know what you think! My hunger is big; my personality is bigger!

Dispatch from DC: Alien Cheese Mission

When I told a Washingtonian colleague, M, who is also a diehard foodie, I was going to the District for the weekend with my best friend and her mom, who are decidedly less into things like bone marrow and oxtails than I am, he instantly recommended Central Michel Richard, right on Pennsylvania Avenue. And this, my Hungries, is why we humans were given the gift of relationships – they pay off in food!


But I should back up a minute, because the reason for our girls weekend in DC is so cute: Melinda wanted to treat her Mom, for her birthday, to her dream of seeing the Lincoln Monument. She invited me, I believe, because I know Washington so well and love to travel, and I hope not just because I had a load of Marriott points sitting in my account. While in DC, we saw not only the Lincoln, but also the Jefferson, WWII, Korean War, and signers of the Constitution memorials, the Smithsonian American History Museum with Julia Child’s actual kitchen and pantheon of First Ladies’ inauguration gowns, The Capital Building, Ford’s Theater, and The National Cathedral. As we, literally, are a bunch of girls, we cried at more of these tourist destinations than not. From the weep-worthy quotes engraved everywhere at the stunning, grand WWII Memorial that zeroed in perfectly on the sacrifice our grandfathers made, to the ethereal light streaming through the stained glass artwork at the Cathedral, it was a heady weekend. And yes, Mrs. Kmetz met her man:

But back to the food, y’all! We had an epic, groaning, fantastic lunch at Founding Farmers, but I already told you about that place last summer. Rest assured, it’s still extraordinary, and please PLEASE make a special trip just to sample the marvelous cocktails. But our dinner at Central was equally as good, if not better, and I thought you might like to hear about it.

The most fascinating open kitchen, ever

Central is busy, most likely due to the James Beard Award hanging right near the front door, or maybe because of its plum location, right on Pennsylvania. We were seated in full view of the open kitchen, which Miriam and I enjoyed immensely throughout the evening. The plating dude oversaw every single thing to leave that kitchen, which his giant metal chopsticks – awesome.

Appetizers first, natch! We went for the gougeres- cheese puffs to you and me – plus the bacon and onion tart, and tuna carpaccio. The airy, biscuit-y gougeres were first up, and a nice, friendly beginning to the meal. Tiny and poppable, we liked them, but maaaaybe forgot them quickly when other food came. The bacon and onion tart, which hit a lot of my buzzwords for goodness, was silky and supremely savory, the onions and crème fraiche melted in with the bacon without being too salty. The crust was cracker-thin, and the fresh chives sprinkled on top imparted the perfect, brightening touch. The tuna was mmm, gimme another shovelful good, topped with a surprisingly complex gremolata of garlic, scallion, ginger and chives. Something else in there was crunchy and fabulous – maybe daikon radish? I don’t know, but I would like to eat this for lunch every day. Healthy and yummy.



Oh baby

 Our final appetizer, and the best dish of the night, was the burratta mozzarella with tomato confit. And I am not sure I have the words to tell you about it, which is how the title of this post came about. That cheese was gorgeous! It was buttery, as all good fresh mozz is, but lighter than any I’ve ever tasted, with a gossamer texture that was simply unreal. It was like a dream. The only rational explanation we could come up with for that whipped, lighter-than-creamy mouth-feel was that it was alien-crafted in a space lab. It didn’t need salt, it didn’t need pepper, it just required that you eat every single morsel.

I have to highly recommend the entrée I ordered, which was the braised short ribs, though I also will inform you that by far, the dish we saw coming out of the open kitchen the most was the fried chicken. I was seduced by the carrots and cumin accompanying the ribs, and rightly so. The combination was sinful, rich, and full bodied. The meat was exactly the right texture, tender with a slight chew, not fall-off-the-bone, but no hint of toughness, either. Rather than the typical deep, rich wine sauce short ribs are braised in, the spiced demi glace was a refreshing twist that was also warming, bathing the carrots in a bright, but still earthy stew.

And then dessert came, and the heavens opened up, and tiny little angels started to sing lovely songs about white chocolate and bananas. Or maybe that was a sugar-induced hallucination; I’m not sure. Melinda chose the lemon tart, which was presented topped with demonically awesome white chocolate cups filled with a sugary, whipped confection of unknown origin, plus lip-smakingly tart lemon curd. Under the eggs were more traditional lemon tart ingredients, surrounded by a “nest” of shredded wheat. It was diabolical, debonair, and delicious!

Miriam and I “split” the banana split, fittingly. It was deconstructed on a divided tray, with the bananas smothered in homemade whipped cream, brunoised pineapple and apple, and nuts, and separate, perfect scoops of chocolate ice cream with wonderful, crunchy spinkles, sweet strawberry sorbet bathed in strawberry puree, and rich vanilla ice cream with caramel and almost powered peanuts. I liked this childhood wet dream, but Miriam loved it, and dug in with gusto. I loved watching her enjoyment. Isn’t that why we share meals?

I will add that for all the terrific food, our waiter was a bit of a bore. Miriam nicknamed him Picklepuss, and truth be told, he never actually cracked a smile throughout out meal until Melinda and I were into the three-figure mark in our imbibing. I didn’t get Picklepuss’ actual name, and he certainly didn’t damper our good time, but maybe it would have been an even more enjoyable experience with a fun server.

I definitely recommend Central for your DC getaway, and I give it a 10 on the BHS scale, easily. I also recommend, if you’re there in the warmer months, that you find the paddle boat rentals at the Tidal Basin, and give them a spin. So fun!

“Ah, the good life!”

My hunger is big; my personality is bigger!

Dispatch from NJ: You Dim Sum, You Lose Some

Dim sum, basically Chinese brunch tapas, is something I learned about on TV, as neither Watertown nor Binghamton, to my knowledge, have any such restaurants. If I’m incorrect in this assumption, I implore you to direct me to the nearest Dimporium post haste, because even before I’d ever tasted these morsels os Asian artistry, I knew I’d love them. Like, back with Will and Grace were kvetching about going for dim sum, I wanted in.


As usual, Jill led me to the promised land without even knowing I wanted to go. That is why we will be bosom friends, always. As we were doing some last-minute Sunday shopping in Southern Jerz when I visited her earlier this month, Jill casually suggested dim sum for brunch. I think the boisterous volume of my “Yes!” surprised her a bit. She drove us to Joe’s Peking Duck House, in Marlton, without delay.

When we visited, the first thing to note is that we were the only non-Asian table in the place. A very good sign. Of course, I can’t tell you if they all were Chinese, or some other nationality, but when you’re eating ethnic food, it’s always a glowing endorsement when people of that ethnicity are eating there, too. Because I was still recovering from a pretty wicked cold, we started the meal with wonton noodle soup. This is basically clear chicken soup, no meat, but packed with handmade, thin, chewy noodles, and the best damn wonton dumplings I have ever had. I like the wonton from the local Chinese place in Endicott I frequent, but I’m sorry, those thick-skinned, bland blobs have nothing on these delicate bundles of flavor. This is the soup I will forever long for when down with the sickness. It’s a pity it lives in New Jersey and not next door! Those thin noodles were actually cooked al dente, and had the rough exterior texture you know comes from handmade, hand-pulled pasta. Each fragile dumpling was extraordinarily well seasoned, with scallion, and perfectly balanced notes of white pepper and sesame oil. I didn’t have to add a drop of soy to the two bowls of Heaven I slurped down.

Next up: Peking duck rolls, a delicacy! These are sliced BBQ duck breast and scallions wrapped in a flour tortilla-like wrapper, and served with hoisin sauce, which is China’s answer to BBQ. I felt like the duck could have been more tender in these, but loved the sweet, rich flavor, cut by the tart scallions. These were simple, fresh, delicious.

Then, one of the best things I have ever eaten in a Chinese restaurant hit our table: fried shrimp balls. These things are stupid good, y’all. The flavor was like very clean, super fresh, briney shrimp paste, covered in a very neutral batter and unsweetened rice krispies, then deep fried. The shrimp was, again, incredibly seasoned, salty and rich in a way I’ve never tasted before. The mix of crispy fried rice and salty, deep seafood was a heady, delightful mix. They were absolutely, fabulously, terrifically, scrumptious, and I would like a plate of them delivered to me on the regular.

The hargow came next, which we ordered without really knowing what they would be. Surprise surprise, more of that insane shrimp paste, wrapped in fantastically delicate dumpling dough and steamed. These were a very traditional dim sum dish in appearance, and while less ridiculously good than the fried balls, still wonderful. I feel like an interesting dipping sauce, maybe with some heat to it, would have complemented these well.

The first dish I picked, and maybe the most different from what I expected, was the BBQ pork buns. I was expecting the BBQ pork to arrive wrapped in smooth, bland bao buns, but these buns were crafted of a rough hewn, tender, snowy white, homemade dough, a bit pasty, and intentionally bland so that the pork can steal the show. Unfortunately, for me, the amount of pork was too little to stand up against that expanse of dough, and the pork was tougher than I would have liked. There was good sweetness to the sauce, but overall, not enough complexity to make this the dish I was hoping for.

This is going to be the place I beg Jill to take me every time I visit her – we were discussing that even as we were tearing in to each plate brought out to us. There are so many things off the Joe’s Peking Duck menu I need to try: honey glazed roast pork, Cantonese roast duck, honey glazed walnut shrimp, Cantonese chicken hot pot, string beans with minced pork, and soy sauce pan fried noodles! And Jill has told me that they serve the precious soup dumplings here. I hope what she thinks are soup dumplings are the same as what I think they are, because if so, I cannot wait to try these bundles of scalding hot, densely flavored broth inside gorgeous pasta dough!

If you’re in Marlton for business, shopping, or visiting friends or family, put Joe’s on your list. It ain’t fancy, and it isn’t fine dining, but the service was great, and the food was groaningly, ragingly good. Get some! My hunger is big; my personality is bigger!

Coffeen Shop Blues

I don’t usually use my blog as a solicitation mechanism, but some friends of the family asked for a favor, and here it goes. There’s a magical little enclave on Coffeen St. in Watertown that my parents, Shawn’s Mom, and a lot of friends go to nearly every week day for breakfast served with a side of sass. The place is tiny, probably less than 20 seats, the menu is simple, and the coffee flows freely, along with the conversation and the sarcasm.


I’ve never written about the Coffee Shop before because, well, Beth, the owner, and Sam, the server/cook/sass master extraordinaire told me that if it got any busier in there, I would no longer be welcome. Shelby likes her coffee and breakfast foods served with a hefty dose of wit, so she wisely kept this place off the blog...until now.

But now, a sad day has darkened our door. Beth is selling this Watertown breakfast and lunch institution, this bastion of bacon for more than 40 years, and looking for a buyer lest this homey little diner blink out of existence. She’s staying through until the end of May, and if it doesn’t sell, the Coffee Shop will become extinct.

A potential buyer would inherit a turn-key operation with a built-in customer base. The shop is busy all morning, every week day, and into the lunch hour, and most of the clientele knows one another, making for a congenial, friendly atmosphere each day. The staff is even willing to stay on for a short time while the new owner comes up to speed. The rented space, in a plaza with parking available, seats 19, and comes with a small kitchen, a grill, and fryers with fire suppression behind the counter. I don’t know this for sure, but I bet Beth would even be willing to throw in some of the hilarious, impish, irreverent signs that plaster every inch of wall space. It’s a manageable, small business for someone who’s wanted to get their feet wet in the food business, but might want to mitigate the risk involved with buying a full-scale restaurant. And I've always seen the potential,. when I've been there, for an expansion of this simple business - I could see catering opportunities, a spot for small special events like baby showers, or a fancy coffee house set-up where JCC students could come and study. I think, if you call Beth, you'll find this a very affordable acquisition upon which to build your culinary vision.

If you’d like to carry on the good work Beth and Sam have been doing on Coffeen St., contact them at eyurack@twcny.rr.com