Miami: Ode to Fish and Latin Flare

Per the Cannon S95, it's always sunny in Miami...

     The other weekend, my wonderful job forced me down south to one of the greatest party capitals of the world.  Miami was in the air, and, in between interviews, I found time to waft in it. 

My co-worker and I decided to head out to this wonderful restaurant called Ola Miami, which houses chef Douglas Rodriguez. He's practically one of the greats of our time on ceviche (his book is called the Great Ceviche Book), which is a seafood dish popular in the coastal regions of the Americas, especially Central and South America. The dish is typically made from fresh raw fish marinated in citrus juices such as lemon or lime and spiced with chili peppers. Additional seasonings such as onion, salt, and pepper may also be added. Ceviche is usually accompanied by side dishes that complement its flavors such as sweet potato, lettuce, corn, or avocado. 

Hamachi Nikkei

For an appetizer, we commenced with the Hamachi (yellow tail) Nikkei, made with yuzu, thai basil, togarashi peppers, cilantro, sweet soy glaze, crushed seaweed and sesame seeds.  The hamachi was nothing short of amazing.  It had a deep and robust taste that just continued for a layered effect.  My partner in-crime said that the taste reminder her of Puerto Rico because of the citrus.  The ever clever Chef Rodriguez used parsley to simulate the tropical tastes. Then basil ensued.  It really was a journey.

It was really nice to be in the winter and be able to enjoy a meal outside near the seashore...



My partner's drank.  Ladies, ya'll would have loved this rendition of a mojito.  I believe it had pomegranate juice in it.

On the menu appeared the plantain-crusted Mahi, crusted with green plantain over a braised oxtail stew and tomato escabeche.  She had never had oxtail and, as the son of Ghanain parents, I grew up on that 'ish.  I immediately suggested that she copped that.  Peep the transition:

Before

After.

I decided to keep my streak of only eating fish and got the Pescado A Lo Macho - salmon served over sautéed baby spinach, grilled red onions with aji Amarillo sauce, clams, calamari, shrimp and black mussels.  Food was light and fresh, just the way I like it.

Postres:

Flan de Queso Ice Cream

"Da Bomb"

After this 3 course meal, we were sufficiently stuffed.  Then we headed over the bar for drinks

Then we hopped over to the Delano Hotel for drinks.  If you are EVER in Miami, the Delano is a MUST HIT spot on Saturdays (The next night, I actually played this random dude in a game of chess on a life-sized chessboard and whooped him while sippin on a Captain and Coke).

The bar was pretty cool, so, in between ordering a Ciroc and sprite, I decided to big up my fraternity....

Yo...

Overall, I left with a deep appreciation and the utmost respect for Miami. Until the next time....





Maven Out!



The Perfect Drink..

67 Orange Street - Harlem NYC

How many of you have to make dates with your best friend so that you can see one another?  While such organization is normally not required in other cities, meeting requests are essential to the lives of young urban professionals of New York City.  So that’s what Danielle and I did, send that good ‘ol Microsoft Calendar req.

I walked out of my Bronx tenement and was greeted Jack Frost himself.  The weather was colder than Mark Sanchez at Foxboro Stadium (I’m still grieving over my Jets’ Monday loss).  While my first thought was Chris Brown’s song “Dueces”, I decided to brave the cold for my best friend, cuz that's the kinda guy that I am.

Hoppin’ out my B train subterranean whip (cuz’ I’m phaaaat!), I soon arrived on the corner of 113^th and 8th Ave in front of 67 Orange Street, ensconced by metal and wooden scaffolding, which endears many of Harlem’s prewar buildings.  The image conjured by the different pieces seemed to shout out, “Aye, we’re struggling but we’re not dead.  A renaissance is on the rise.”  I feel you Harlem, I do..

But I digress.  I walk into 67 Orange for the first time and it takes me a while to get oriented to the place. The dimly-lit establishment, not more than 20’ by 30’, resembles a 1930’s scene where African Americans come to sip on prohibited hooch in the cozy presence of friends.  This was the perfect place to catch up with my best friend.  If she can’t guard my secrets, then at least the walls would (I have full confidence in her, fyi).

This wasn't my bartender, but this is Karl Franz Williams, the owner. Ain't he Andre Benjamin-esque? I actually met Karl in the summer of 2009 at a small business event hosted at the home of the wonderful Beatrice Sibblies, a magnificent woman and real estate force in Harlem (If you don't know about her, then Google her). Read more about him here.

Upon setting (the Southern version of “sitting”, meaning I slowly eased up onto this bar stool) myself down, I butt into this conversation that the bartender, dressed in a button-up with a tucked-in tie, is having with his instruments.  He’s grinding what I believe to be mint into a cup but, upon letting the smell waft toward my nose, is actually cilantro.  “My man, what’s that chou makin’” I asked.  “This is an Emancipation,” he replied in between measuring the different components of the concoction, “the most popular drink we got.”  And that’s what I get.  

I must say, it is nice to see the art of mixology revived in this speakeasy.  Unlike every other bar, where drinks are made in the fashion of fast food,  measurements eye-balled and drinks served sloppily, I felt as if my drink was made specifically for me.  The drink actually takes like 5-7 minutes to prepare because, like K.O.S. Productions,  money is FOCUSED (are you??).  I watched as he mixed Crop Organic Cucumber Vodka, Citronage, simple syrup, muddled cilantro & cucumber together splashed with fresh lime juice.

Danielle arrives "momentarily".  She gets the melting pot - a tequila, apricot simple syrup, fresh lime juice and burnt sugar concoction that she said did not mesh well -  and we start to catch up.  My drink is EXCELLENT.  I normally hate simple syrup in my drink because of the slippery (full stop) taste it adds to drinks (after all, I’m not eatin’ pancakes), but I was hard-pressed to find its presence anywhere in my drink.  Furthermore, the drink was surprisingly fresh, so fresh that I actually felt like I was drinking healthy, if such a thing exists!  It might have been the best drink I ever had.

Although it looks like the stuff that Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles drank, it was quite delicious.

Bottom line: If you’re looking for a place to speak easy and converse in private, then check out 67 Orange Street located on 113^th and Eighth Ave.  They have drinks that you won't find anywhere in the city.

Holla at me, for now.  Next post will come from sunny Miami....

BRUNCH! Miss Dhalia's Cafe Brooklyn

Miss Dahlia's Cafe

"I'm baaaaaaaaack!" Think about that statement as if it was said by my homie Slim Chin (Click on the link)

Now it's sing song time...

I'm in my Delta sky whip right now, idling, so I think it's time to get back to hitting you with nothing but the illest eating spots in NYC.  Oh, and a maaaaajor upgrade to the site:  I have a "photog". Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to announce that Joshua Jackson has joined the Food Mave website as an associate photographer and contributor.  These pictures that you are about to see were taken by the one and only J. Jaxx. *Standing Ovay*

J Jaxx is one of my bestest friends, and I decided to visit him in the BK for brunch last Sunday.  After we both hit the gym (separately), we sought to hit this wonderful spot called EGG at 135 North 5th Street in Williamsburg, but the G train - the worst train in America - stopped 3 stations short of our destination and proceeded to give up on life.  Stranded, my boy J Jaxx pulled out his trusty iPhone and found us a spot near Nostrand and Lafayette. It was there (or near there) that we laid eyes on Ms. Dahlia's Cafe, a quaint brunch spot in BK that I will visit again.

Miss Dahlia's is a small spot: Walk four steps in and you are already at the counter, which smacks you with some of the tastiest and perfectly-crafted pastries you've seen in a while (CakeManRaven and Make My Cake vaguely enter my mind). 

Ain't these pics silly??

I call these Zoolander cupcakes...Rediculously good-looking cupcakes

I was starving, so I didn't do the cakes this time around.  Instead, Jaxx and I opted for the scrambled eggs, turkey bacon ("that swine ain't divine"...j/k, it is!), and biscuit.  When I say this was the one of the best platters of the combination I have had in NYC I mean:

Son..

The turkey bacon was JUICY.  I mean, can you not see the juice flowin' off this pic?  (Josh really is the man for this pic.)  The bacon was not burnt like that hooked up by your boys at the bodega, and it wasn't fake-tasting like dem "Golden Arch" boys do.  They make that bacon as soon as it's ordered and not a minute sooner.

I call this picture M&A..bankers will get this.

Perhaps the best part of the meal was that flaky biscuit.  The biscuit was buttery without the greasiness associated with that of my Popeye's ninjas (I still love 'em biscuits, tho', especially from the spot on 125th and St. Nich - they have the best Popeye's biscuits in the City).  It was nice to know that I could eat a really flavorful biscuit - its rich taste Harlem shaking on my palette - and not feel like death was about to be knockin' on my door.

I washed my food down with a hot moca, which I appreciated partially because you could actually taste the chocolate in the moca.  You see, chocolate isn't meant to be sweetened with sugar and additives. While  all that stuff IS tasty, it is simply not chocolate.  If you have been to Ghana and have actually had real coco, then you know what I'm talking about.  Chale!

Service:  Now, if you read my first blog  posting, a Traveshammockery, then you know I do not play when it comes to service.  I am str8 cold-hearted when it comes to leaving tips and have been known to leave $0 tip with a 2 paragraph composition explaining the fallacies of their definition of "service".  I must say that such was not the case at Miss Dahlia's. Because the place is so small, everyone can hear everyone's conversation with the cashier and we, as an establishment, cracked up together on multiple occasions.  It was like a family brunch, and the people that the place attract seem really cool.  

In conclusion, Miss Dhalia's is now a staple in the brunch rotation.  If you want a place that's free from pretense and a place that feels like home, hit up Miss Dhalia's.  Tell them that Kwad and J. Jaxx sent ya.

Peace.