From Sam Sifton’s review of Roberta’s last year, I knew that Chef Carlo Mirarchi did a tasting menu a few nights a week, and that it was supposed to be excellent. But knowing that the wait list was something like six months long, I never gave it much thought. Then came news that the tasting menu would be featured in a completely new space, Blanca, care of Sam’s profile. And then Andrew Knowlton sang its praises too. He is The Foodist for Bon Appetit  magazine, and the writer who presented BA’s top 10 new restaurants of the year. Andrew Knowlton also lives in my ‘hood. I’ll trust a guy in the same zip code, but I’ll love a guy who gives the number two spot to a Roberta’s offshoot. The itch began.

And it soon stopped. An upcoming visitor and I decided to commit to getting up early on a Saturday and sitting on the phone indefinitely to try and make a reservation. After pressing redial too many times to count (as well as 53 minutes), I got an actual person on the other line and not an answering machine. She had free spaces for our desired date. I had my choice of seating time. We secured a reservation. What happens next?

Well, no pictures. We were politely asked to refrain from taking any pictures so as not to spoil the surprise for any future guests (you can find some if you must from early day spoil sports, however). My phone remained in my purse, and I had no paper and pencil. Roughly 30 courses flowed forth over almost four hours, and they all strive to remain in my mind as extraordinary epicurean memories. New flavours, old flavours. Textures that were comforting, challenging, and unexpected. Seasoning that asserted itself. My palate has matured to a point where I can appreciate just how important a few grains of sea salt can be or how just how it is that a one-bite course can exceed a plate full of “good enough.”

It’s hard to put into words just how much I enjoyed my Blanca experience. The food, the atmosphere, the warm yet reserved service, the records playing in the background, the beverage pairing. The beverage pairing! God, each glass was amazing and unique.

Perhaps the best way for me to sum up my experience comes from a friend. He told me that maybe I moved to New York to have the best meal of my life.

This could be very true.

Blanca
261 Moore Street, Brooklyn 

Today’s Special:  Caprese sandwich, Sullivan Street Bakery (Chelsea location), New York

Forgive me. I forgot about this sandwich. I came across the photo and cursed myself for not posting about it at the height of summer, at the height of tomatoes. I don’t even know if the Sullivan Street Bakery is still making this sandwich at this time of year. I can pretty much guarantee, however, that whatever kind of sandwiches they’re making, you’re going to love them.

As a big fan of Jim Lahey and his no-knead bread method, I made sure that the SSB was on my list of places to visit. But, with the original location in Hell’s Kitchen and the second in Chelsea, I never found myself in the neighbourhood (I’m not a West side kind of girl), and a weekend trek was just too much of a trek. Then came Summer Fridays at work. By working extra each day, I could get every second Friday afternoon off.  I could hardly say no. I promised myself I wouldn’t spend that time cleaning house or doing laundry. On one hot summer Friday, I made a list of Chelsea galleries to visit and a beeline for the Chelsea SSB.

The sandwich screams “fresh!” Fresh pizza bianca, fresh heirloom tomatoes, fresh basil, fresh mozzarella. All brought together with some grassy slips of olive oil. The cheese was so fresh that I had a puddle of milky whey gracing my plate from the pressure that my hands brought while eating. Oh, and there was a sprinkling of sea salt. My perfect bite(s) came when my  teeth cut through a juicy tomato, then the creamy cheese, then the crack of a salt crystal.  More, please.

Sullivan Street Bakery 236 9th Avenue, New York

Set duck lunch at Momofuku Ssam Bar.

My first week in New York City was a steady diet of riding the train, scouring Craigslist, and viewing apartments. In between, I ate and went to museums. Just like I was on vacation. Don’t tell my wallet. And although I’m here now, living in New York, my hunger and excitement wanted me to eat like time was limited. I gave in. My pants grew tighter. And as expected, I got a great taste for all the wonderful food adventures that lie ahead of me.

Pastrami-cured salmon and scallion cream cheese on pumpernickel at Russ & Daughters.

I made an effort to try a few places that would be more ideal to visit during a weekday: Momofuku Ssam Bar, Russ & Daughters, Saltie, the Doughnut Plant. All worth their salty and sugary calories. I was actually surprised how much I enjoyed my duck lunch. I’m of the mind that David Chang & Co are kind of overexposed and too hyped up. Although a hefty $20 for the two-course set, I left very very happy. The doughnuts? Pure bliss. I am not a doughnut person, but I am now a Doughnut Plant person. I think that having both cake and yeast varieties during a visit is the only way to go. Double your pleasure, double your fun.

Before settling into my own place, I’ve been staying in Williamsburg. The rumours are all true: it’s more hipster than you could ever imagine, and the food (and drink) is some of the best in the boroughs. After returning for a few more visits, I still think that Roberta’s is the best pizza I’ve ever had. I can’t get enough. Just like in Vancouver, hipsters like their coffee. So far, I’ve tried both Blue Bottle and Toby’s Estate. Both are spaces that make you want to linger and sip all day, and both provide you with very high quality joe.

I can't take any more top knots!

The Scuttlebutt at Saltie.

Blueberry pancakes with maple butter at Clinton Street Baking Co.

And on a Sunday with no apartments to see and nothing but time, I decided to brave the wait for a tiny window seat at Clinton Street Baking Co. and finally try their much-discussed pancakes. I went with the classic blueberry and added a side of sugar-cured bacon. The wow factor is the maple butter sauce. On their own, the stack is fine, but it’s the sauce that makes them legendary. And the legend leads to lines. Big ones. But it’s New York, so I just filled the hour-long gap with a $9 manicure.

Tres leches and peanut butter and banana cream doughnuts from the Doughnut Plant.

So, this was just the beginning. And with the smallest apartment kitchen I’ve ever had in my future, the cooking chronicles of Cream might be few and far between. But I’ll still be eating (out) lots. And my camera phone is much improved.

Suggestions?