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.

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.

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.

Le Scaphandre et Le Papillon

by Val Bitici

A rush of excitement hits me as I walk the red carpet past paparazzi into the Ziegfeld Theatre for the premier of Julian Schnabel’s film Le Scaphandre et Le Papillon. When I enter the theater, I am not at all surprised to see it filled with the top names of fashion, art and film. On one side of the room Zac Posen is shaking hands with Matt Dillon, while three rows in front of him Mario Testino is sitting in an aisle seat engrossed in deep conversation with a well-dressed friend. I locate my assigned seat and am switching off my cell phone as a woman sits in the empty seat next to me. Turning to face her, I smile and say a neighborly “hello” before realizing that it is Chloë Sevigny, award winning actress and style icon. I suppress a gasp of incredulity and try to act normal. After Mr. Schnabel makes a speech describing the inspiration he gleaned from his relationship with his father to make the film, the lights dim and Chloë and I settle into our seats.

Le Scaphandre et Le Papillon is a moving account of human suffering and curtailed existence. Actor Mathieu Amalric captivates us as Jean-Dominique Bauby, the French Elle editor-in-chief whose sparkling life is unexpectedly brought to a standstill by a paralyzing stroke. Suffering from “locked-in” syndrome, Bauby is left with physical control over only his left eye and his mind. Schnabel’s adaptation of the book, written by the almost completely impaired Bauby after his stroke, is a chronicle of life, past and present, almost entirely through the patient’s perspective. Bauby communicated his story with the help of a transcriber who said the letters of the alphabet and waited for him to blink at hearing each letter he wanted to use. Thus slowly and painstakingly he authored the tremendous accomplishment Le Scaphandre et Le Papillon.

Schnabel’s vision of this unique record comes together as he makes the right choices with cinematography, lighting, and even language. Originally written in English by Ron Harwood, the script was translated into French per Schnabel’s adamant request to remain true to Bauby’s story. The effect is one of complete entrapment in the body and mind of the former magazine editor. From the first moment we meet the main character as he catches a glimpse of his pale, horrific appearance in a mirror, we see all that he sees and feel all that he feels. Trapped in his thoughts, Bauby constantly travels through memory and reality as he relives his past and examines his present circumstances. As he straddles the line between these worlds, Bauby takes the viewers along for an intense roller-coaster ride of emotions. Otherwise known as The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Schnabel’s film captures poignantly the main character’s simultaneous sense of bodily entrapment and freedom of imagination. While imprisoned as if in a diving bell by his stroke, Bauby is also set free like a butterfly through his own thoughts. I do not think it possible for Schnabel, or anyone else, to pay a more beautiful homage to Bauby and his literary masterpiece. As everyone else in the Ziegfeld that evening, Chloë and I found ourselves teary eyed with both sorrow and hope as the Oscar-nominated film came to an end.