Sports & Food Enthusiast

Di Fara's - The Pilgrimage

Mon, 18 Feb 2013 00:55:00 -0500

Well hello there sports and food enthusiasts. It is I..the artist formerly known as the Sports Foodie. Technically I know that I am still “sportsfoodie” because it says so on my tumblr account, and frankly I don’t know how to go about changing that. While I have yet to develop a new moniker, the term “foodie” has bothered me for quite some time, and now I’m stuck with a cutesie relic from a bygone era. As if the only photo I had for my avatar contained a paisley shirt, Z Cavaricci trousers, and flared bangs.

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You may have noticed that I have not posted about sports or food or anything else for that matter in about a year. That’s because I got a new job with NBC, I moved, and generally got very busy with life.

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Plus with Twitter, Instagram and Pintrest and all…it’s just become so much easier to update in mini (Also, I dont really use Pintrest.)

However…today, I got the fever. Something changed. I took a pilgrimage. To a pure and holy land…a place where tomatoes and olive oil drip seemingly from the vine (the actual kind..not the app), and directly into your mouth. They say this place serves the best pizza in all of NYC. They are correct. they

The establishment: DiFara’s Pizza in Midwood. The man: Dom Dimarco, artisan.

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As someone who has studied storytelling all of my life, I can tell you that most good stories start at the beginning. And the tale of this pilgrimage starts with my wife and children leaving town early on vacation. I had to remain in NY for a few extra days with work (I TOLD you it is an important new job), so I had a few days to kill over the weekend. I eagerly called my single friends to see who I could hang out with, just like the old days.

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I quickly learned that I no longer have single friends, and that everyone else had left WITH their wives and kids on vacation together.

Plan B…chill out with my dog Harley, clean and organize stuff. I was going to run every day with Harley, and kick start us both out of our Winter Slumber. We did a night run on Friday. It was exhilarating and different. Then a nice long run yesterday. Today, it was about 10 degrees with the wind chill and I decided that I had had enough running with the dog. As for cleaning and organizing, I remembered that on the weekends I’m lazy.

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So, what to do? I came back to my standby. The old “Find a new restaurant, and then write about it” move. K.I.S.S.

The trip to DiFara’s would work perfectly. It was the kind of place that I’ve heard about my whole life but embarrassingly have never gotten around to experiencing. Like visiting the Cloisters or watching “My Left Foot”. It’s also the kind of place I couldn’t convince the family to go to.

Because DiFara’s is legendary not just for it’s pizza, you see, but also for it’s wait. So the notion of piling up the family in the car, taking an hour long trip to get there, followed by a 45 min wait minimum…that’s just a bit too “food enthusiast” for my group. They would reasonably ask “why wait that long for pizza when there are great pizza shops here in town?”. And I would not be able to provide a reasonable answer to that question without the kids realizing that Dad’s a loon.

So today was my chance to be unreasonable with myself.

I made this call around 1:30 pm. After studying the menu and the internet, I decided that I would not be a sucker and go all that way for one $5 slice, but rather would order an entire pie for $28. Math!

In order to do that, I thought it best that I exercise. So I got on the lifecycle and put in 48 hard minutes, followed by 16 minutes of P90X Ab Ripper. I had not done a p90X routine in some time, and when I put in the DVD I instantly recalled why. Because I hate Tony Horton.

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So after I showered, I excitedly get all my stuff on to go. At this point, I check my watch and realize I have to make a veteran call. it’s about 3pm and according to the DiFara’s website, Lunch service stops at 4:30 pm and dinner service does not resume until 6:30. If it takes me 58 mins to get there, that will only leave me with 32 minutes to order and eat. Not going to happen.

So I simmer down, take a seat on the couch, and start the countdown clock to 5:30pm, when I plan to leave. I nap.

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5:30pm. The time is nigh. I take Harley for a quick walk around the block and.. God DAMN it is cold outside…feed him, and get on my way. Waze tells me it’s going to be exactly 56 mins until arrival. I get on the freeway, and then my first little bit of magic strikes. For some reason I turn on XMU, a station I never listen to, and The XX is playing. A LIVE recording. Now, you’d think that The XX live would be awful, but it’s not…the delicate cheering somehow makes it even more transfixing than recorded The XX. Soon, I’m in an The XX daze..I ask myself “I thought they were British but she sounds a bit French. Are they playing in a club? A small theater? I wonder if they’ll come to Larchmont any time soon? Do you always have to call them “THE XX”, or is it cool to just say “XX” every so often?”

Next thing you know, WAZE directs me out of my The XX hypnotic trance and off of the 278W. The time is nigh…a least more nigh than it was previously. I look for a spot.

Suddenly, fear strikes. I did not call before I left to verify that they are open today. Their website says Wed-Sun, but their website looks as though it was made in 1996 on a GeoCities page by Dom Dimarco’s 3rd cousin Joey. I berate myself “It’s a HOLIDAY WEEKEND you DUMMY! Why didn’t I call?” I get out of the car, and the wind slaps me into a renewed focus. I make my way down the street.

I spot it in the distance. I see a light. And people. I see Di Fara’s and it is OPEN!

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My pilgrimage continues.

I walk in, and take a minute to get my bearings. Very small…woodpanels (natch). Framed signed Tony Bennett 8x10 (natch) about 3 picnic style tables against the back walls, seats about 10-12 people max. There are about 8 people in front of me, but I cant tell if they ordered or not.

Behind the counter is the man himself. Dom DiMarco. He is old and hunched over. He moves very slowly. He makes his pies with a quiet fortitude. I’m not sure how long Dom has been doing this, but I have a feeling it’s since he was 8. Give or take 102 years. I instantly feel very fortunate that I decided to do this.

I’m still not sure what the story is with ordering and sitting. Is there a list? Doesn’t strike me as a “list” kind of joint. Before I get around to asking, some kid pops in from the cold, walks to the counter and asks the guy next to Dom for a “Square pie”. He pays him, and steps back.

Annoyed I didn’t act sooner, I walk up to the guy next to Dom. He’s internal and shifty eyed…I’m going to call him “Mikey”. Mikey asks me my name, and I tell him. Mikey writes the information down, hieroglyphics style in a small yellow notebook, the kind you see in thriller movies where they find they crazy killer’s belongings. Mikey tells me “It’s gonna be an hour”. I look around, only see the 8 people, but don’t go all Curb Your Enthusiasm on him. Mikey senses my skepticism, and then adds “more or less”. I tell him I want a whole pie, and ever so slightly…Mikey curls his lip in a knowing smile.

Time to wait. I’m game..I brought my ipad with me, but there’s no place to sit. I can also use a beer. Looking around, folks are drinking, but I don’t see a wine list or beers in the fridge in the room. I go back to Mikey. Under my breath I ask, “So…is it, uh, bring your own beer?” He looks at me…looks back and forth…and in an even more hushed tone states “You can bring a beer in, sure”. I’m very confused if this is supposed to be a secret or not.

I spot a bodega across the street, pop back out into the frigid night, and grab a Stella tall boy. I come back in, and in the corner of the room, next to the plastic forks and knives, I see a bottle opener. Our little secret.

I also see a seated spot open up next to a group, and I go for it. It took a few minutes, but I got this place figured out. Now, I just have to chill. The time is so damn nigh. I start to chat up the Brooklyn group next to me and they are oh so very Brooklyn Hipstery. Scraggly beards, lots of scarfs, ethnically ambiguous, serious talks about My Bloody Valentine. I tell them it’s my first time here, and they tell me that I’m fortunate.. that there is usually a line out the door.

The cold! That frigid cold worked in my favor. What kind of an insane idiot goes out in the cold, 1 hour drive no less, to a known establishment with long wait lines? One that is Crazy like a Fox. A cold, hungry fox.

Finally, after only about 30 minutes (“More or less”, right Mikey? You crazy bastard!!) The pie arrives. The time is NOW.

Its beautiful…a full pie, not massive or overwhelming in scope. The crust is a bit brown on the edges but not charred like Pepe’s in New Haven. It has balance and character…something that looks like it took more than 30 methodical minutes to make.

The scent of garlic, cherry tomatoes and fresh hand drizzled olive oil run at you in waves. But it’s the fresh basil that sings to your olfactory nerves.

I lay the pie down in front of the hipsters and they stare at me. They all worked on their pie, together, for what appears to be a very long time. I look at them and tell them, gently, that I’ve been preparing for this all day. All of my life really. I’m good. Don’t worry about me. I got this.

Well..the taste. Simply put…it’s a transportation. To Italy. Back to the Earth where the purest forms of these flavors originated from. Through the alchemy of Dom’s skill, preparation, attention and love..they all galvanize together perfectly. The crust is firm but not overly crispy..the flavors are sweet and savory and luscious.

In my postprandial stupor, I packed up the remaining 2 slices I could not will myself to finish. Better to not force it. Mikey packed them up, loaded them in a box and thanked me. Told me “They’re pretty good at home too”, and I’m sure they are. I thank Mikey in return…one of the purer expressions of gratitude I can recall offering.

The only singular thing missing from the experience was a bottle of Barolo, which I’ll bring next time. As there will be a next time. When I return with my Wife.

This place is too special to experience alone.

Fish Taco Wrap, Bar Harbor Blueberry Ale, Blackened Haddock...

Fri, 19 Aug 2011 08:49:04 -0400

Fish Taco Wrap, Bar Harbor Blueberry Ale, Blackened Haddock Fritters over Sweet potato fries (@Thirsty Whale Tavern, Bar Harbor, ME)

Popover and ice cream from Jordan House in #Acadia National Park

Fri, 19 Aug 2011 08:42:46 -0400

Popover and ice cream from Jordan House in #Acadia National Park

Blueberry pancakes @ 2 Cats, Bar Harbor. Better than Clinton...

Wed, 17 Aug 2011 09:18:36 -0400

Blueberry pancakes @ 2 Cats, Bar Harbor. Better than Clinton St, no 3 hr wait #breakfast (Taken with instagram)

Lobster heaven on the cheap at Three Sons in Portland, ME...

Tue, 16 Aug 2011 14:24:18 -0400

Lobster heaven on the cheap at Three Sons in Portland, ME #summer #lobster #Maine (Taken with instagram)

Hate to be nitpicky, but those should really be “two...

Tue, 16 Aug 2011 10:51:10 -0400

Hate to be nitpicky, but those should really be “two cans” (Taken with instagram)

Lobster bacon roll @ The Fishermans Catch in Wells, ME (Taken...

Mon, 15 Aug 2011 15:29:19 -0400

Lobster bacon roll @ The Fishermans Catch in Wells, ME (Taken with instagram)

Welcome to Maine! (Taken with instagram)

Mon, 15 Aug 2011 15:04:35 -0400

Welcome to Maine! (Taken with instagram)

Final thoughts on Clarence Clemons...

Sat, 18 Jun 2011 23:02:54 -0400

Few other musicians have had their desired narrative so definitively expressed by an instrument as Bruce Springsteen. Hendrix’s and Vaughn’s guitar, Dylan’s harmonica, Moon’s drums. But this relationship was different…Springsteen needed Clemons’ saxophone. He couldn’t do the job himself. His expression required the deep and resonant notes, that Clemons, as perhaps the singular man on Earth, could deliver with such force, such power, and such desperate relevance. Without Clemons, the potency of Springsteen’s characters hopes and failures could never be properly expressed. The strains and the nearly out of body lengths that Springsteen went to deliver his gospel required a messenger of weight, passion, and seemingly unquenchable soul. That man passed tonight, the screen door slamming for the final time. I was blessed to have had those notes pass through me directly on a stormy night some 10 years ago. Thanks for your spirit, and your life soundtrack Big Man.

The @ESPNFrontRow crew let me do my thing before epic Knicks game tonight

Fri, 22 Apr 2011 14:27:30 -0400

The @ESPNFrontRow crew let me do my thing before epic Knicks game tonight

Chocolate cake with strawberry frosting, or Shepard’s Pie...

Fri, 01 Apr 2011 23:16:38 -0400

Chocolate cake with strawberry frosting, or Shepard’s Pie in disguise? April Fools!! (Taken with instagram)

Rubirosa, NYC - Review

Sun, 27 Mar 2011 22:10:00 -0400

So a friend of a friend of The Sports Foodie saw my 2010 year end write up, which included Torrisi Italian Specialties, and got word to me that Rubirosa was a new, equally great place right across the street on Mulberry.

I am a BIG fan of Torrisi, so was a little bit skeptical, but then the actual friend of the friend told me he had gone and that Rubirosa lived up to the hype of the initial friend twice removed.

Mildly confused, I Open Tabled it up, and got myself to NYC this Saturday for a night of Italian fun. The prime driver behind Rubirosa is their pizza, which is an offshoot of a pretty famous place that serves thin crust slices in Staten Island called Joe’s & Pat’s.

The decor is rustic, with a thin mainroom/bar, and a kitchen/dining room beyond that. It’s a little cozy, but NY cozy, so it’s all good. The waiter, a mild tempered Aussie, asks us if we want tap water. DING! Immediate points, as I’m a big one for not being pushed to pay for bottled water as a first question. He proceeds to walk us through the menu, making a few recommendations.

We started off with four crostinis. Meatball, Duck + Onion, Mushroom, and shrimp. The duck and mushrooms were stand outs (top/bottom left).

Next, two salads, including a roasted octopus, which is slowing becoming a dish that I have to order every time I see it on a menu. This one didn’t disappoint:

This was followed by two good, but not Earth shattering pastas: a gnocchi and a pappardelle bolognese.

We then moved on to the main pizza course. We elected for 1/2 classic, 1/2 vodka:

This did live up to the hype. Super thin, delicate, but very flavorful. Personally, I preferred the vodka pie (on right). Just thought it brought that extra layer of uniqueness to the party.

We wrapped up with a few coffee’s (both good) and a pretty unexceptional dessert. A homemade ice cream sandwhich that felt like it had been sitting in the freezer for the day. Trust me when I tell you I bring this much harder at Casa D’Sports Foodie.

So, what’s the final verdict? A lot of good, but not completely blown away. The staff is very friendly and accommodating, the seating a smidge crowded but cool. Great crostini, great pizza. Ok pasta, not ok dessert. But all in all the price is quite right, coming in at under 2 bills for a party of five, all of the above mentioned and TWO bottles of Multipulchino wine. Almost impossible to get that quality for that price at any hot NYC spot.

All in all, I would stick with Torrisi. For pasta, I prefer many other restaurants including L’Artusi, anything Michael White, and Terry Lodge in Port Chester.

But Rubirosa is worth a visit for sure if you happen to dig thin crust pizza and live near the Little Italy/Nolita area.

From Miami to Key West, I'm "Running Scared"

Mon, 21 Mar 2011 20:57:35 -0400

The year was 1986, and everything that people under the age of 25 today hold near and dear to their hearts simply didn’t exist. Facebook, YouTube, cell phones, twitter, Justin Bieber…none of it. Charlie Sheen barely registered a bad-boy cameo in “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”.

Only that cheesy 80’s music that Lady Gaga now uses as “inspiration” was around. So in those years, teenagers turned to 3 TV stations, FM radio, and the movies as their guiding cultural influences.

Like most kids with a modicum of taste, the film “48 Hrs” was a biggie. It starred Eddie Murphy years before we knew he would turn into this:

And Nick Nolte waaay before this:

Brash, illicitly funny, “48 Hrs” dealt with race honestly and out in the open, the way a lot of us multi-cultural city kids did. It was beloved by my peers. The problem was it spawned a whole bunch of awful copycat movies that could not come close to the film’s mixture of chemistry, humor, genuine cop-drama, and taste.

Amazingly, one film that did come close was a little remembered flick called “Running Scared”. In a completely unthinkable (more so now) pairing, it stared Billy Crystal (!) and Gregory Hines (?!) as two Chicago cops (?!?!) that get caught up in some big drug bust.

I realize this poster doesn’t help the case. But It also stared Joey Pantoliano as “Snake”, and lets face it, Joey Pants makes everything better.

In addition to somehow achieving the chemistry that every post-“48 Hrs” knock-off lacked, it also featured an extended sequence of the two exhausted buddy cops going on a retreat to Key West. And for some reason, that stuck with me. I was a middle class kid from the Upper East Side of NY and faced none of the pressure that Crystal and Hines had, embroiled in a major drug bust with “Snake” and all. But after watching the boys kick it back with rum-runners and their overly-permed dates, the Michael McDonald soundtrack kicking in, watching the sun set on Mallory Square, I distinctly remember telling myself, “At some point, that’s gonna be you”

(*actual photo, thank you Instagram)

Cut to 25 years later, and while I avoided a career in law enforcement, I did fall for my own overly-permed beauty (fortunately she dropped the crimper in 1992). And her folks happen to rent a house in Islamorada, Florida every year, which we happen to crash at, every year. All part of the master plan…aaaHAAAhaha!! My “Running Scared” dreams, coming true! Suckers!!!

(*actual in-laws who are not really suckers. They are wonderfully awesome. Their dog is awesome too.)

Amazingly, all of the things that I found myself enamored of in that film turn out to be accurate. Now granted, it didn’t really get into the fact that there are a WHOLE lot of baby-boomers who are trying to recapture their youth and walk around with “I’m not 50, I’m 18 with 32 years of experience “ or “why are your boobs staring at my eyes” T-Shirts on. But you forgive them. The get-away, Jimmy Buffett, forget-all-your-troubles vibe is the real deal in the Keys, and of course the food reflects this chill outlook. Naturally there is a lot of emphasis on seafood, with tons of Latin and Caribbean influences to make everything extra interesting.

So, without further adieu, I’ll give you a quick rundown of my food journey, from Miami (where the fun begins) to Key West.

Miami:

Michael’s Genuine Food and Drink:

Michael’s has been around since 2007. Miami has a very significant art scene that is beginning to emerge with the annual Art Basel, and Michael’s located in the heart of this design district.

It’s an indoor-outdoor set up, with a heavy farm-to-table influence. Lots of small plates. We started with a fresh bag of cinnamon bites, with a spreadable cream cheese topping:

Then we had fried egg sandwich on a rosemary crumpet:

A “breakfast pizza”:

The adult in me was most pleased with the amazingly complex and sophisticated “Kimchi Benedict” with a poached egg, crispy pork belly, and a kimchi hollandaise:

The kid in me crushed this homemade snickers birthday cake:

All in all, I found Michael’s to be a phenomenal experience. Dare I say, one of the best, if not THE best brunch spots in the country. They have a great staff, cool location, and wonderful heartfelt food.

Tavernier, FL

Made 2 Order

A bit of a hideaway spot…hard to see from the road but reachable by boat (one of my favorite apects of the Keys). We had ourselves a mighty fine lunch here. In the Keys, lunch is defined by how spectacularly amazing you can make a fish sandwich, and Made 2 Order was up to the task.

We had a Thai Shrimp Po Boy:

And then a Grouper Reuben:

Both fantastic, my only criticism would be that the bread on both of these was just ok. A little more care in that department, and they’d be upgraded to “fully money” status.

Islamorada

The Island Grill

Well, what can you say about first love? You never forget yours, and The Island Grill serves as the first place we went to upon our initial visit to the Keys many years ago. We took the boat, and docked at this little piece of island paradise. Clearly, I’m not the only one who has fallen for this joint, as they’ve recently completed a substantial expansion. I’m all for it. For all I care, they can expand all the way up the Eastern Seaboard so I can walk to the Long Island Sound for lunch there daily.

We start with their “spicy tuna nachos”:

Then move on to fish sandwhich domination with crunchy Grouper:

and Mahi Reuben, each with sweet potato fries. H to the Y:

Grab yourself a Key West Pale Ale Draft, and my friend…even if “Snake” had just left a threatening text message on your new iphone4, you still wouldn’t have a care in the world.

OK…this is a lot to take in. I dont want to overwhelm you. Stay tuned for Part 2, where we discuss the spiciest food that a person can still eat while retaining control of ones bodily functions.

My notion of perfection (Taken with instagram)

Sun, 20 Mar 2011 22:22:00 -0400

My notion of perfection (Taken with instagram)

A proper Irishman (Taken with instagram)

Thu, 17 Mar 2011 12:58:30 -0400

A proper Irishman (Taken with instagram)

Laura’s Oscar night Osso Bucco over saffron risotto ...

Sun, 27 Feb 2011 23:21:50 -0500

Laura’s Oscar night Osso Bucco over saffron risotto (Taken with instagram)

What a croque

Sun, 27 Feb 2011 15:45:00 -0500

I believe honest self-assessment is one of the keys to success, so I must admit that I’m not the world’s greatest blogger. Sure I’m funny, charming, informative, and deeply handsome, but I do have a hard time writing consistently. In fairness, I have a busy full time job, two young children, a dog, and I get easily distracted by shiny things.

So, If you’re still here, I’ve got a few new updates from the past couple months of “eatventures”. TM.

NY – Bar Boulud (1900 Broadway btw 63^rd + 64^th)

Me and my colleague Jacoby had a pre-meeting lunch at Bar Boulud. Chef Boulud, for those of you who are unfamiliar, is one of the premiere chefs in the world, and home to a few flagship French restaurants in NYC. Some are super high end, ie Daniel, others are more populist ie DBGB (homage to the old CBGB’s near Bowery where the restaurant is located) . Bar Boulud is a bit down the middle. But its 2 blocks from our main office and we were in the mood to be big time.

I can’t advise you on too much here, as we both had the same items. One was a Butternut Squash soup, which is one of those items where its really super hard to mess up. It’s just a tasty vegetable and if you don’t over think it, it makes itself awesome.

We also both went with the Croque Madame, as if drawn by a powerful flame (the flame in this case being a perfectly cooked farm egg). Most people when they are going Croque, they go Croque Monsieur. But our thing was, if you can have a warm ham and cheese sandwich, AND throw an egg on top, why WOULDN’T you go for the egg? And so we did. And it was as good as it looks.

So, I can tell you there’s all sorts of other good things to sample at lunch. There’s moules frites, Boudin Noir (aka the nefarious sounding Blood Sausage), and a few great salads for those not feeling your inner Ron Swanson.

But, If I’m you, I go the full Croque.

Ebelskiver Sunday! Chocolate & Apple Cinnamon (Taken with...

Sun, 27 Feb 2011 14:33:51 -0500

Ebelskiver Sunday! Chocolate & Apple Cinnamon (Taken with instagram)

Don’t we look cute together? (Taken with instagram)

Thu, 24 Feb 2011 13:51:57 -0500

Don’t we look cute together? (Taken with instagram)

Crazy Keys Tree (Taken with instagram)

Thu, 24 Feb 2011 13:32:10 -0500

Crazy Keys Tree (Taken with instagram)