Taverna Kyklades

FOOD New York

Taverna Kyklades
33-07 Ditmars Blvd (between 33rd and 35th Streets)
Queen, New York
718-545-8666
Subway: N, W to Astoria, Ditmars Blvd

by Val Bitici

As a restaurant family, the Bitici clan has an innate appreciation for all things food related: cooking, eating, 17th century Dutch still life paintings (ok, so I threw that one in there), etc. When I have plans to eat out with my dad, I know that a delightful gourmet experience awaits me. But when he calls me and tells me that he’s picking me up with his car, I know to expect an extra special treat. I particularly enjoy our epicurean expeditions outside the (too often ego-centric) island of Manhattan. For this reason I am always happy when he suggests that we go to Astoria for Greek food.

A crowd of hungry people and an intense smell of fresh food always greet me as I enter Taverna Kyklades. The charm of this bustling restaurant is not attributed to its location or décor, but instead to the straightforward and tasty dishes that are prepared in its kitchen. While quite extensive, the menu consists of simple options that are for the most part grilled. My dad always taught me that the simplest foods, such as grilled chicken, meat or fish, are the most difficult to prepare properly. Anyone can slap a chicken breast onto a grill and watch it sizzle. But only the true professionals can marinate, season and grill it to meet and even surpass the expectations of unsuspecting eaters. The grill-men at Taverna Kyklades have this art down to a science. My favorite items on the menu include the grilled sardines, grilled chicken kebab, grilled peppers, lemon potatoes, beets and tzatziki. My advice is to go with a group of friends and try them all… and then some. I promise you will not leave unsatisfied.

Found Geometries

New York






by Victor Timofeev

I started taking the long way home, walking an extra ten blocks to get to the express rather than riding the local and started paying more attention to my environment. So many amazing sights await if you just pay attention and look up. A seemingly, unprecedented barrage of new condominium construction is creating new sights, new geometries that are as exciting as they are frightening.

Cai Guo Qiang: I Want to Believe

ART New York

Cai Guo Qiang: I Want to Believe

Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum
1071 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10128

By Melissa Passman

Thomas Krens, the polarizing director of the Guggenheim Foundation for twenty years, plays a central role in the story of Cai Guo-Qiang’s massive spectacle of an exhibition currently at the Guggenheim Museum in New York. With last week’s surprising news that he would be stepping down as director, journalists began to eulogize his tenure, once again reminding us of the motorcycles and the Armani suits that will certainly remain as symbols of the excess that characterized his brash leadership style.

The current retrospective (co-curated by Alexandra Munroe, senior curator of Asian art) is no different. As a vocal proponent of Cai Guo-Qiang’s theatrical art, my first impression on walking though the revolving doors was one of amazement. Confronted first by the cars hanging from the ceiling with fluorescent bulbs piercing them, and then by tigers with arrows that fill the second ramp. On the third ramp, an installation originally commissioned for the Deutsche Guggenheim in Berlin invites us to weave in and out of the line of wolves that will eventually crash into a glass wall. According to the wall text, this piece is an allegory for the Berlin Wall, synthesizing local and global histories.

Also drawing on recent history, Cai recreates “New York’s Rent Collection Courtyard,” a Communist propaganda sculpture from the late 1960’s. Occupying almost an entire ramp, a team of Chinese sculptors will fabricate this piece throughout the duration of the exhibition, exposing the process to the multitudes of visitors who will inevitably pass through the museum. He continuously insists on this process of audience engagement, whether incorporating paddleboats steered by four year olds and live snakes into his installations or forcing us to navigate past tigers pierced by arrows.

Best known for his work with gunpowder and fireworks drawings, I can’t help but think of the politically charged link to Cai’s prominent participation in the Beijing Olympics. As a prelude to the coming months, this is one spectacle that shouldn’t be missed.

Commerce

FOOD New York

courtesy of Eater.Com

Commerce
50 Commerce Street
New York, NY 10014
212.524.2301

by Val Bitici

Situated on the corner between Bedford and Barrow Streets in New York City’s West Village, Commerce occupies an historical restaurant space that began many years ago as a speakeasy during Prohibition. As the February 2008 opening was much anticipated, I could not wait to try the new eatery for myself. So on a cold and rainy Friday evening my sister and I headed there to meet a friend for an early dinner and a bottle of Prosecco.

Despite the fact that we were half an hour late for our reservation (not only was it pouring outside, our cab driver had also never heard of Commerce Street), the hostess graciously received us and led us to a booth. As we studied the menu and snacked on a basket of warm rolls and soft, mini pretzels, it became clear to us that this dining experience would not be a mundane one. Listing items such as Warm Oysters in Champagne with Caviar, Duck and Foie Gras Terrine with black cherry shallot jam, Marinated Fluke Sashimi, and Roasted Sweet Potato Tortelloni with hazelnuts, pomegranate and beurre noisette, the menu presented a plethora of decadent options from which to choose. Indecisive as to which dishes we wanted to try most, we resolved to order many and share them all.

We ordered about seven dishes in total: three market special starters, three appetizers, and one entrée from the main menu. By the end of our feast I found myself most impressed by the simplest plates on our table. The Mushroom and Fontina Ravioli ($16) served in a parmesan emulsion was unlike most stuffed pastas I have eaten and, quite pleasantly, not nearly as cheesy. The Young Cod in a stew of sweet peas, speck ham and black truffles ($27) was the sole entrée we had ordered and my favorite addition to our multifarious spread. The light taste of the fish when paired with the saltiness of the ham, the sweetness of the peas and the blast of flavor from the truffles was a flawless combination.

While our savory dishes were very delectable indeed, my gold medal is awarded to the Chocolate Peanut Butter Marquise ($9) that we ordered for dessert. A luscious, layered tower of whipped chocolate and peanut butter mousse, this dish was served with celery sorbet and salted peanuts. The effect of the sweet, salty, cold and soft on my palate can only be described as euphoria. If you want to know what the high-class version of a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup tastes like, then I suggest you go to Commerce and order this dessert.

Tonnie's Mini's. And Why is New York Obsessed with its Bests?

Food New York

Tonnie’s Mini’s

West Village Bakery
120 W 3rd St
New York, NY 10012

by Shayla Lawson

My first week as a New York resident has taught me one vital truth: New Yorkers love to label things as the best. Before moving I, a reluctant foody, scanned websites, “authentic” guidebooks, and newspaper articles for the best selection of moderately priced savory delights in this foody town. The Zagat guide’s “City’s Best Barbeque?” Horrible! The Village Voice’s ‘Best Grilled Paneer Sandwhich?’ Eh. Junior’s “Most Fabulous Cheesecake?” Tasty. But most fabulous is stretching it a bit.

While standing in line at a Starbuck at Union Square and 14th Street (not the best one in the vicinity, the barista informed me, for that I’d have to go three blocks down) I overheard a conversation between a woman and her partner:

“You have to go to (blah blah blah) in Chelsea,” she says knowingly, dramatically waving a black-shawled arm. “The coffee is all imported from (blah) in Europe. It’s expensive, but they only hire the best baristas in the city. I treat myself to it once a month. I’m telling you it’s the best [ridiculously over-priced latte for the self-obsessed] in town… (ad naseum).”

Why are New Yorkers like this? Traditionally and geographically, New York exists as a city of immigrants: primarily the poor and the young. Each year nearly a million people of this distinction migrate to the city to search out its promise of success and distinction. Once one ascribes to that particular brand of delusional beauty specific to the Big Apple the immigrant moves from the status of foreigner to that of “New Yorker,” a person whose metropolitan saavy rivals only his ability to find the city’s hidden, unparalleled, gems. Asking a New Yorker for the best of anything is a lot like asking at 13-year-old Midwestern girl for a recommendation on the “World’s Best Musician.” They cannot help but give an answer tainted by what’s going around the barrio. However, a week after my first visit to a bakery touted as the “Best Cupcake in Town,” I still feel like writing about it.

Right down the street from the West 4th Street/Washington Square train stop lays Tonnie’s Minis. You will find it unassumingly sandwiched between a record store and a litter of the laid-back independent shops characterizing the NYU side of Greenwhich Village. The sign for the bakery’s mini delights shares top billing with an advertisement for “The Best BBQ Sandwhich in Town.” I didn’t try it, I wouldn’t recommend it, but the bold red contrast of the barbeque sign against the Tonnie’s Minis marshmallow white drew me in through the tiny door. I walked in to a simple assortment of two-seat deli tables and the sweet scent of pastries. No barbeque. My mother and sister, who claimed to be sitting at the tea room across the street but detoured instead, chomped shamelessly on their third round of cupcakes. The space is minimal, but I would much rather sit down for a Saturday afternoon coffee and Powerbook break squeezed between its full length mirror and the next hungry customer than at any of the college ambiance coffee houses in the immediate vicinity.

I go for the red velvet cupcake. Perfect – the kind of light confection I have tried to concoct at home with little success. Why bake? I think to myself. Tonnie will do the work for me all by himself! I smirk at the cashier’s suggestion that Tonnie’s has the best cupcakes in town.
“I don’t know… I live next to Junior’s,” I reply.

“They may have the best cheesecake but you won’t find a better cupcake anywhere in the city,” he replies, serious and attractively stone-faced for someone talking about cupcakes. He offers me a second one. Chocolate. And tells me to take it home and enjoy it with a glass of milk.

Do I write this article because Tonnie’s Minis makes the best cupcakes in town? How would I know? I am new to the block. I write this article because the cashier was cute, the cupcakes cheap, my second one free (flirtation discount) and a week after it clung to the inside of a paper bag at the back of my refrigerator this Devil’s Food cupcake is a whole lot better than half-bad.

The Best Damn Coffee Shop Around Union Square Area

Food New York

Everyman's Espresso
136 East 13th street (between 3rd and 4th avenues)
8am-8pm

by Victor Timofeev

The vastly knowledgeable baristas at Everyman’s make kickass espresso drinks and serve them coupled with intellectual conversations. The Pain Au Chocolat, the seemingly simple chocolate croissant baked by Tisserie bakery across Union Square Park, is by far their best pastry. Pair it with a soy cappuccino, (the soy makes it naturally, lightly sweetened) as it complements the boldness of the chocolate found in the two large veins inside the croissant. The total comes to something around five dollars, a bargain for such an exciting way to start a Sunday morning. Also, there is an excess amount of Sunday times lying around the café Sunday afternoons, saving you four dollars on the paper!

Chance of Landing a Seat : Weekdays – 100%. Weekends – 91%.
Local Runners-up : Ninth Street Espresso, Joe the Art of Coffee.
What To Get : Soy Cappuccino (to stay, of course!!!) and Pain Au Chocolat

Ghada Amer & Reza Farkhondeh: Collaborative Drawings

Art New York

Ghada Amer & Reza Farkhondeh: Collaborative Drawings
The Tina Kim Gallery
The Chelsea Arts Tower
545 West 25th Street
3rd Floor
New York, NY 10001

by Shayla Lawson

Nothing new. I have trouble with the contemporary art world’s acceptance of hybrid print work as a new-medium substitute for the craft of drawing. I readily admit, I have little knowledge of Amer or Farkhondeh, I found an advertsiment for the art opening on flavorpill.com, but I have an intense attraction to the intimacy and reverence that accompanies artist that work as part of a successful collaborative partnership. That said, I found little about the work present in RFGA show that transcended beyond their shared enjoyment of process. Birds and thread-stiched Disney characters scattered in a field of pornographic heroines do not an artshow make. Although the press release refers to their attraction to Dadaist Automism and “the latent eroticism of the human form,” I found the half-dozen dry, uninspired, and downright silly. Yes, I am certain Farkhondeh and Amer would give elegant recitations regarding the meaning of each drawings. And they work so adeptly as a team one could easily make the argument RFGA constitutes a third artist in the body of singular and collaborative work produced by these artists in the past twenty years or so. But nothing in the pieces showcased a new take on humanity, a broader reflection on the human body, an elevated sense of craft. They were doodles. And not even particularly compelling ones in the art world of widely accepted contemporary doodling. Better luck next time, boys and girls.

Best in New York?

Former Gawker editor Joshua Stein compares his favourite eateries in New York to New York Magazine's recent selections.

A Beautiful Artifice at the Frick

ART New York


“A Beautiful Artifice” Charms Visitors of the Frick

"A Beautiful Artifice"
The Frick
1 East 70th Street
On view until April 27, 2008

by Val Bitici

As a New Yorker, I am blessed to be able to frequent and know well the great art museums in my city. With my tastes always fervently skewed towards Renaissance and Baroque art, I grew to love the Frick Collection soon after I was first allowed through its doors at the age of ten. With over a decade of monthly visits to the collection under my belt, I am often eager to see their special exhibitions. So when I heard that Parmigianino’s Antea was traveling on special loan from the Museo di Capodimonte in Naples to New York, it was without question that I visit her.

Antea’s combination of loveliness and strangeness is a most alluringly unnerving juxtaposition. She stands life-sized at the center of the oval room at the Frick and captivates us from the moment we enter her space. The sitter, a young, fair and rosy-cheeked beauty, is all at once palpable and elusive. Her head is disproportionately smaller than her stocky, almost masculine body, and her right shoulder is jarringly broader than her left. Yet she shows no shame for her peculiar appearance. Draped in jewels and swathed in a fur stole and luxurious garments of gold satin and embroidered cloth, she is a vision of wealth forever setting her apart from the stark space that she inhabits. Her eerily candid stare informs us that she in not at all concerned with her own surroundings. As her left hand absent-mindedly fumbles with the gold chain around her neck, Antea’s gaze peers beyond the threshold of her own space and into ours. With this, the line between reality and idealism wavers between stringency and ambiguity. The sitter’s identity is unknown and mysterious, yet her regal demeanor gives her an unmistakably earned presence. Parmigianino has painted her as an ideal vision of beauty and strength. Hence Antea, as the curator of the show has described her, is an “artifice.” She is the enigmatic archetype of an ethereal beauty, obtainable only through this painted masterpiece and isolated from all that we know.

Gustave Courbet at The Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art

ART: New York

Gustave Courbet
February 27, 2008–May 18, 2008
Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art
1000 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY

by Melissa Passman


Inescapably plastered across the cover of the exhibition catalogue, posters, and signs leading me to the exhibition, Gustave Courbet’s visibly tortured and fraught visage stares out, confronting me at all angles, capturing the public’s attention. With a well-documented affinity for self-promotion, it is no surprise that Courbet represents himself as the public face of the exhibition. Having already seen the previous incarnation of this exhibition in Paris’ Grand Palais, I entered the Met’s galleries with great curiosity to discover what alterations had been made to the intricate arrangement of the paintings, and with greater anticipation, what pieces had been allowed to travel across the Atlantic. It was a pleasant surprise then to find that greeting me once again was a room of Courbet’s provocatively indulgent self-portraits, one of the greatest rewards of this retrospective, the first in over 30 years. The curator’s inclination to declare Courbet’s modernity is immediate – these self-portraits beg to be compared to Cindy Sherman’s gallery of personalities.

Following this dramatic entrance, the thematically divided rooms cover a broad range of subjects, from his equally sensational nudes to thriving landscapes, Courbet’s meandering oeuvre leaves no category untried.

Baudelaire’s essay “The Painter of Modern Life” aptly characterizes Courbet’s agenda, namely to substitute the grand themes of history painting for the more immediate realities of France. Walking from room to room, the intensity of paint viscerally confronts the viewer with a force that had not been present before this moment. Most compellingly, the numerous connections to the burgeoning history of photography, an active presence in France since its invention in 1839, draws the lineage for multimedia influence and the enormous effect that this new form of capturing reality had on the once-dominant form of preserving historical moments.

Despite all of these compelling intersections of forms, unsurprisingly the crowds swelled as I entered the room containing art history’s best known work of pornography, "L’Origine du Monde." A blunt portrayal of gender, this small painting signifies both the potential of life and inevitable death in terse terms. Owned by Jacques Lacan prior to entering the collection of the Musée d’Orsay, this commissioned work is ensconced on a small wall facing the photographs that served as his sources, along with a peep show apparatus set up to replicate the furtive actions of the audience for them.

It is perhaps these paintings, most prominently “Sleep” which features two women, one still in stockings, more than even the self-portraits that present the strongest argument for Courbet’s grip on contemporary painting most notably, with John Currin’s most recent work. The ongoing fascination with paint, flesh, and above all, fresh engagements with the physical immediacy of paint as a tool for representation, confirm Courbet’s status as the progenitor of a highly adaptable form of painting whose repercussions continue to fascinate today.