The Food Section

Ryan Magarian, Ambassador of Imbibing

At S Bar in Hollywood, master bartender Ryan Magarian (second from left) watches approvingly as miixologists-in-training learn the nuances of crafting cocktails.

If cocktails everywhere were designed by Ryan Magarian and made by bartenders who have been through his training program, we'd be a country of seriously raging alcoholics.

But such a scenario would be very expensive. And more importantly, he'd never want it that way.

"I’m not trying to get people to drink more. I’m getting people to drink less. I just want you to drink better," he says. Although some existing and invented buzzwords are tossed around, he uses "passion," "awesome," and "excited" with such frequency and conviction that you just have to believe him.

The 10-plus years Magarian has spent concocting thousands of drinks and customizing cocktail menus for clients large (Holland America Cruise Line, Fairmont and Sofitel Hotels chains) and small (restaurants in Portland and Seattle) have not dampened his enthusiasm one bit. But lately the "associates" in his firm, Liquid Relations, crisscross the globe when he needs to stay closer to home in Portland. Magarian's other venture, Aviation Gin, takes his ambition one step further by allowing him to formulate actual raw materials, not just ingredient combinations. Such is the life of a master mixologist in contemporary American cocktail culture.

Magarian easily bounces between teaching a group of eager bartenders and engaging in one-on-one conversation. He's in Hollywood for a few days to train the bar staff of the newest Katsuya, which just opened within the splashy brand new Americana at Brand development in nearby Glendale. Magarian's presence ensures that when advanced cocktail culture arrives in suburbia, it's done right. This is the third in a string of locations of the Japanese cuisine and style emporium. Los Angeles-based owner and operator SBE Entertainment Group, best known for their slick nightlife venues (think the "Entourage" lifestyle), have found a winning formula in pairing Philippe Starck's interior designs with chef Katsuya Uechiâ's cooking. Not too long ago, quiet Glendale would have been considered an unconventional choice for both a glam-type Katsuya restaurant and a cocktail roster of Liquid Relation's ilk. Times have changed, and Magarian is an appropriate ambassador for the expansion of high-end eating and drinking beyond the confines of urban centers. 

Ryan Magarian with his creation, the "Kiwi Envy" (see recipe below).

With his tall stature, Pilates-enhanced posture, well-fitting jeans, dark shirt and sport coat, Portland native Magarian, 34, looks like he can get past the most formidable velvet rope scene at a typical SBE venue. Or any club, anywhere. His down-to-earth charm doesn't hurt either.

And yet he's not interested in just "rooms with alcohol." Hiring Magarian means committing to a whole other level of drink dedication. He frames it as a wise investment. "I call this kind of bar culture an insurance policy. What if the food doesn't live up to the hype? At least you have another kitchen -- a liquid kitchen -- now you have two shots. You'd be crazy to not take that policy out on yourself."

On a weekday afternoon inside the uber-designed S Bar, 20 or so staff members are seated around the dramatically lit bar, with thick training binders perched on their laps. Magarian's exhaustive program (typically five days long, but this one will be cut short so he can catch a flight north for a speaking engagement in Napa at the CIA at Greystone) takes the participants into "the cave" as they learn "the toughest bartending there is. "His affable yet firm demeanor keep things humming along. Magarian talks with incredible intensity at a breakneck pace, but every word is clearly enunciated and heard above the din of clacking bar equipment.

"I teach templates," he explains. For instance, Magarian doesn't demonstrate an Old Fashioned and then stand back and watch as trainees learn rote. Instead he gets them to understand how this staple of the cocktail canon isn't "just whiskey and muddled fruit. Spirit, sugar, water, bitters -- that's an old fashioned. "He emphatically counts with his fingers when breaking down each component of a cocktail. It doesn't have to be whiskey. You can use anything. We'll make up twenty different Old Fashioneds. "These foolproof combos help keep customers happy.

This training is also a full body workout. Not only do ingredients have to be carefully selected, measured precisely, and made in specified equipment, Magarian is uncompromising when it comes to the physicality of the craft. His drill is gospel: stand straight, shake at two o'clock for exactly six seconds, left foot forward, stomach tight ("don't let the drink shake you"), pinkie down when cracking the shaker open, and pour. Garnishes and final glass presentation require attention, too. It's all part of "teaching how to never make a bad drink."

It's his brand of "dynamic learning" that enables his clients' employees to master classic cocktails, eclectic signature drinks, and most importantly, their own palates. Hopefully they absorb even a small percentage of Magarian's encyclopedic knowledge. (Ever heard of the Corpse Reviver No. 2, a gin and absinthe cocktail popular at the Savoy Hotel during the 1920s? Magarian will tell you all about it.) And in the process, elevate the field.

Magarian has come to understand the nuances of how much power we have behind the bar. Because we walk a thin line between being a drug dealer and a societal enhancer. So he forges ahead, one fine, perfectly crafted drink at a time.

Kiwi Envy
Magarian wanted to serve a type of kiwi elderflower Collins cocktail at Katsuya, but "couldn't make it sing." When training the staff members of Katsuya Hollywood he enlisted their help. The following cocktail, which he likens to drinking a "melted kiwi," is the result of this collaborative effort. Its balance, fruity texture, mild sweetness and tiny tart aftertaste make it perfect for summer.

4 thin slices of peeled kiwi
1 ½ oz. dry gin (S Bar uses Plymouth)
¾ oz. St. Germain Elderflower Liqueur (AKA "angel spit")
½ oz. freshly squeezed lime juice
½ oz. simple syrup
1 oz. soda
Kiwi slice (with skin on) and lemon wedge

1.    In a pint shaker glass, add kiwis and hand press with muddler
2.    Add spirits and mixers, fill glass with ice, cover with shaker tin, and shake vigorously for 6 seconds
3.    Add soda and strain over fresh ice into Collins glass
4.    Garnish with kiwi slice and lemon

Photography: Masterson. Copyright 2008. All rights reserved.

Lost in Translation

VEGAS, BUBALA? Above, the original Canter's in Los Angeles, and at top, the Vegas version.

A few years ago, Jessica of Ritz Bites tipped me off to the weirder than weird news that Canter's Delicatessen, the Los Angeles institution, had expanded to open a branch in Las Vegas. On one level, this made a certain kind of sense: You can have anything in Las Vegas, from a scaled down Eiffel Tower and Brooklyn Bridge to restaurants serving the culinary creations of Thomas Keller, Joel Robuchon, and Daniel Boulud, so . . . why not a Jewish deli? On the other hand: Whaaa?

The original Canter's holds a special place in my heart. While I was in graduate school at UCLA, I lived a few blocks away from Fairfax Avenue, and spent many late evenings and early mornings there studying and writing. More recently, on a visit to Los Angeles, Anya woke up at 4:00 a.m. and refused to go back to sleep. Where to go for breakfast before dawn and entertain a sleepless toddler? 24-hour Canter’s, naturally.

Big, blown out photos of the original Canter’s line the walls, but otherwise, the Vegas incarnation, buried deep in the casino at the Treasure Island resort, is a different beast than its mothership. It has a vaguely retro/space-age Jetson’s chic, with a lot of stainless steel and curvy light fixtures. Where were the illuminated autumn leaves lining the ceiling? And, what about the trademark telephones? None could be found. The sandwich menu was more or less intact, though the tepid corned beef I ordered was disappointingly chewy.

Something (maybe everything) was lost in the translation to Las Vegas. No waitresses (you order at the counter). No bakery. No movie industry types or students (like myself at one time) or elderly Jewish couples. On the day I ate there, the deli had been transformed into -- of all things -- a sports bar. There was a Green Bay-Philadelphia game on, and every seats were turned toward the flat screen televisions. Burgers, not pastrami, seemed to be the most popular dish, with lots of Miller Lite sloshing and not so much Cel-Ray.

Canter's Delicatessen (Treasure Island, 3300 S. Las Vegas Blvd. Las Vegas, Nevada, 702.894.7111).

2007 James Beard Awards

The James Beard Foundation's book, restaurant, and chef awards were presented last night in a ceremony at Lincoln Center (the media awards event took place Sunday). The award for Cookbook of the Year went to Matt Lee and Ted Lee for The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook, Michel Richard received the Outstanding Chef Award, Chicago’s Frontera Grill was named Outstanding Restaurant of the Year, David Chang of New York's Momofuku Ssam Bar and Momofuku Noodle Bar was named Rising Star Chef of the Year, and Chanterelle's David Waltuck took the prize for the New York City category of the Best Chefs in America.

Below is a complete list of all the book, restaurant, and chef awards.

BOOK AWARDS

Cookbook of the Year
The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook
Matt Lee and Ted Lee

Cookbook Hall of Fame
Moosewood Cookbook
Mollie Katzen

Asian Cooking
Cradle of Flavor
James Oseland

Baking and Desserts
Baking: From My Home to Yours
Dorie Greenspan

Cooking from a Professional Point of View
Grand Livre de Cuisine: Alain Ducasse’s Desserts and Pastries
Alain Ducasse and Frédéric Robert

Entertaining and Special Occasions
The Big Book of Outdoor Cooking
and Entertaining
Cheryl Alters Jamison and Bill Jamison

Food of the Americas
The Lee Bros. Southern Cookbook
Matt Lee and Ted Lee

General
Tasty: Get Great Food on the Table Every Day
Roy Finamore

Healthy Focus
Whole Grains Every Day, Every Way
Lorna Sass

International
The Soul of a New Cuisine
Marcus Samuelsson

Reference
What to Eat
Marion Nestle

Single Subject
The Essence of Chocolate
John Scharffenberger and
Robert Steinberg

Wine and Spirits
Romancing the Vine
Alan Tardi

Writing on Food
The Omnivore’s Dilemma
Michael Pollan

Photography
Michael Mina
Photographer: Karl Petzke

RESTAURANT AND CHEF AWARDS

OUTSTANDING RESTAURATEUR AWARD
Thomas Keller
The French Laundry

OUTSTANDING CHEF AWARD
Michel Richard
Michel Richard Citronelle

OUTSTANDING RESTAURANT AWARD
Frontera Grill
Chef/Owners: Rick and Deann Bayless

BEST NEW RESTAURANT
L'Atelier de Joël Robuchon

RISING STAR CHEF OF THE YEAR
David Chang
Momofuku Noodle Bar

OUTSTANDING PASTRY CHEF AWARD
Michael Laskonis
Le Bernardin

OUTSTANDING WINE SERVICE AWARD
Michel Richard Citronelle
Wine Director: Mark Slater

OUTSTANDING WINE AND SPIRITS PROFESSIONAL AWARD
Paul Draper
Ridge Vineyards

OUTSTANDING SERVICE AWARD
Tru
Owners: Rick Tramonto, Gale Gand, and Richard Melman

BEST CHEFS IN AMERICA

BEST CHEF: GREAT LAKES
Grant Achatz
Alinea

BEST CHEF: MID-ATLANTIC
R. J. Cooper III                                     
Vidalia                                                   

Frank Ruta
Palena

BEST CHEF: MIDWEST
Celina Tio
The American Restaurant

BEST CHEF: NEW YORK CITY (FIVE BOROUGHS)
David Waltuck
Chanterelle

BEST CHEF: NORTHEAST
Frank McClelland
L’Espalier

BEST CHEF: NORTHWEST
John Sundstrom
Lark

BEST CHEF: PACIFIC
Traci Des Jardins
Jardinière

BEST CHEF: SOUTHEAST
Scott Peacock
Watershed

BEST CHEF: SOUTHWEST
Nobuo Fukuda
Sea Saw

CATEGORY: BEST CHEF: SOUTH
Donald Link
Herbsaint

AMERICA’S CLASSICS

Aunt Carrie’s
Owner: Elsie Foy

Brookville Hotel
Owners: Mark and Connie Martin

Doe’s Eat Place
Owners: The Signa Family

The Pickwick
Owner: Christopher Wisocki

Primanti Brothers
President: Demetrios Patrinos

Weaver D’s
Owner: Dexter Weaver

HUMANITARIAN OF THE YEAR
Art Smith

LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD
Barbara Kafka

WHO’S WHO OF FOOD & BEVERAGE IN AMERICA
José Andrés
Jim Clendenen
Bobby Flay
Dorie Greenspan
Michael Pollan

Grom: A Taste of Turin

In the shadow of Upper West Side institutions Fairway Market and Zabar's, a few blocks of Broadway have oddly emerged as a testing ground for upstart foreign specialty stores. First, there was Beard Papa's, the Japanese cream pufferie. Then came a (temporary) branch of the Japanese clothing store UNIQLO last fall. And, now comes Grom, the much buzzed about Turin-based gelato mini-chain whose opening has been eagerly awaited by the ice cream cognoscenti.

I interviewed the co-owners, Federico Grom and Guido Martinetti, on Friday, the eve of the gelato shop's weekend debut, for a magazine assignment. It turns out that I was very lucky to taste a number of flavors before the official opening, when GROM was beset with long lines of gelato-starved New Yorkers seeking free samples.

The young entrepreneurs, who first met on the soccer field as teenagers, created the gelato operation (which now numbers 12 stores) with inspiration from the Slow Food movement, and many of the ingredients Grom uses are, in fact, Slow Food-sanctioned "Presidia" items such as Sfusato lemons from Amalfi and pistachios from Bronte in Sicily.

The gelato flavors are mixed at a central plant in Italy and shipped in a nearly frozen state to the New York store, where they are whipped into the final product daily (along with any additional ingredients mixed in at the last minute in-store) -- sort of the ice cream equivalent of par-baked artisanal breads. All the sorbets are made of 50 percent fruit and 50 percent San Bernardo mineral water from the Italian Alps, and the company has acquired land where it is planting its own melons, strawberries, peaches, pears, and figs.

Interestingly, I learned that the source of fat in a number of the flavors is not eggs or butterfat from cream, but fats contributed by the primary ingredients, such as nuts or chocolate.

The extra dark chocolate tasted pretty amazing. Made with Ecuadorian chocolate, the aftertaste resembled what you would actually experience eating a piece of solid dark chocolate (not your typical chocolate ice cream). The pistachio, as brazenly brown as hazelnut rather than dubious fake green, was potent with the earthy flavor of roasted nuts. Other intriguing flavors include Cassata Siciliana, made with goat's milk ricotta and day-glo candied citrus, and a slushy seasonal Sicilian-style granita. But, one of the best might be the shop's signature Crema di Grom, studded with bits of dark chocolate and crumbled biscuits baked in Piedmont.

Grom, 2165 Broadway (646.290.7233).

Close Encounters of the Fried Chicken Kind

A recent article in the New York Times by Julia Moskin on a wave of new Korean fried chicken spots in New York City inspired a serious craving to taste the chicken for ourselves. We headed to Unidentified Flying Chickens, the upstart chicken place on Roosevelt Avenue in Jackson Heights. It's only been open for about a month, and while they are still working out the kinks, we found that the chicken was top-notch (a self-described "volunteer" and friend of the owner confided that the chicken has come a long way since the place opened).

Moskin describes the cooking process in detail in her article: the chicken is coated lightly with flour and batter before a two-step frying process under low temperature that "renders out the fat in the skin, transforming it into a thin, crackly and almost transparent crust."

Everything is cooked to order, so be prepared to wait at least 15 minutes for your chicken to be fried (or, better yet, place your order by phone in advance). There are chicken salads and sides on the menu, along with two breaded chicken cutlet paninis, but the fried chicken is the main event. Orders come in sizes of large ($15.99) or small ($8.99) with a choice of sauces.

We went with soy-garlic, a slightly sweet and salty glaze lightly and deftly painted on each of the pieces. The chicken is incredibly succulent and moist -- almost puffy -- with a thin, crisp exterior. The birds desperately deserve to be paired with beer. But, none is currently served, so plan on bringing your own.

Unidentified Flying Chickens, 71-22 Roosevelt Avenue, Jackson Heights, Queens (718.205.6662).

2007 Zagat Survey Rankings

While San Francisco and Bay Area residents are still freaking out over the new Michelin rankings (as one blogger put it, "I just about puked on my keyboard reading that shit"), media attention (at least here in New York) now turns to the 2007 Zagat Survey restaurant rankings of New York City restaurants, which were officially released today.

Compiled from reviews supplied by 31,604 diners, there's a myriad of data to pore over, but at first blush, the biggest news looks to be Annisa's climb from 24th place last year into the top 10 this year in the best food category. Chef Daniel Boulud can now count two of his restaurants in the top 10, while Nobu and Gotham Bar & Grill dropped off the list compared to the 2006 rankings:

2007 Top 10 Food Rankings (2006 rank)
1. Le Bernardin (1)
2. Daniel (2)
3. Sushi Yasuda (5)
4. per se (3)
5. Peter Luger (Brooklyn) (8)
6. Gramercy Tavern (6)
7. Café Boulud (13)
8. Bouley (4)
9. Jean Georges (9)
10. Annisa (24)

As for the ranking of the 10 most popular eateries, Gramercy Tavern and Union Square Cafe remain the leaders, Nobu has dropped off the list since last year, and Jean Georges enters in ninth place. The rest: a general reshuffling of the deck since the publication of last year's guide:

2007 Top 10 Most Popular Places (2006 rank):
1. Gramercy Tavern (1)
2. Union Square Cafe (2)
3. Le Bernardin (5)
4. Babbo (3)
5. Peter Luger (9)
6. Bouley (8)
7. Gotham Bar & Grill (6)
8. Daniel (4)
9. Jean Georges (11)
10. Blue Water Grill (7)

Food nerds, rejoice! Download a summary of all of the salient statistics, including year-by-year comparisons of top 20 rankings:

» Zagat Survey Summary: 2007 New York City Restaurants

Brunch With a View

Destination dining has always been a hallmark of the foodie. The extreme destination diner is the person who, say, plans a European vacation with the Michelin guide rather than a travel guide, who skips Venice entirely to spend two days in the Friuli back-country, in some town undistinguished by anything except its one-star restaurant famous for a stew of tender farm-raised rabbit.

Or, in the case of New Yorkers, an extreme destination diner is someone who travels to a different borough. New Yorkers are tribal. They are obsessed with status symbols, and Neighborhood rivals Job as the Number One measure of status. They hate to cross from a more desirable neighborhood to a less desirable neighborhood, for any reason. And they especially hate to cross the rivers. And why should they—even the foodies? In a city of over 30,000 restaurants, you’re hardly ever going to have to go really far to get excellent food. Maybe for very specific ethnic food—Indo-Caribbean—you might travel to some ethnic enclave in an outer-borough. But otherwise why risk the social opprobrium?

So New Yorkers destination dine for different reasons, reasons that, ironically, have little to do with the food. They’ll go out of their neighborhood’s way for a venue with buzz, of course. They’ll travel for a garden (rare in New York), or a view (even more rare). And if this garden or view is in an outer-borough, the Manhattanite will generally take car service to get there.

I am, in fact, writing this post to announce that I have discovered the Best New Brunch Dining With a View in New York. But it takes a strange trip to get there, and you’re going to have to cross rivers, even highways. And you can’t take car service.

I’m talking about the café at the new Fairway grocery store in Red Hook, Brooklyn, and you can’t take car service, because it’s just not acceptable when your brunch there will cost less than what you’d tip the driver. So you’re going to have to take public transportation, and as anyone knows who’s already been to Red Hook to check out its allegedly nascent dining scene, Red Hook is hugely out of the way.

First, you’ll have to take the F train to Carroll Street, and then walk over the deafening traffic of the BQE. As you head toward the water, the two-story row houses give way to pot-holed streets lined with concrete warehouse buildings housing bus depots and industrial glass companies. There aren’t many cars and even fewer people. As you skirt the dirty lawns of the huge Red Hook West housing projects, you’ll notice there are lots of churches for some reason--lots of big churches. There’s space out here. In the distance, just a few blocks away, the giant steel structures of the industrial waterfront loom as high as city buildings. It’s a disorienting mishmash of city genres. You feel like you’re far from New York, even though you catch expansive views of the Manhattan skyline which is only a fifteen-minute cab ride away, except that cabs don’t come to Red Hook. You soon hit Van Brunt Street, the main drag, where greasy bodegas alternate with blue-collar bars, a hipster diner, a patchy community garden, and rickety stand-alone houses. It’s scrappy and weird.

All this, you think, for a grocery store? When you finally get to Fairway, at the very end of Van Brunt, you cross the big parking lot, and wend your way through the aisles of the sprawling store to get to the café in the back. It feels like the suburbs. You order a perfectly normal cream cheese and lox on a toasted everything bagel, or maybe the $3.95 scrambled eggs and ham from the grill, or an immense blueberry muffin from the pastry cabinet. Maybe a container of fruit salad. There’s nothing special on the menu here.

But then you walk through the open doors of the café to the patio in back of the grocery store, you pick one of a dozen picnic tables, and you take in one of the most spectacular views of the East River and the Statue of Liberty you’ve ever seen. It turns out Red Hook is the only part of New York City that, on land, has a full frontal view of the Statue. It also turns out that view is magnificent. The patio is surrounded on two sides by water, and it’s breezy and breathtaking as you bask in the sun and squint at the sparkling water. You watch the sailboats skit across the river and listen to the honk of the tugs. It smells like the sea and it feels like summer. You feel like you’re on vacation.

You feel like this just might be the best everything bagel you’ve ever had.

DESTINATION DINING A stroll along industrial Van Brunt Street (above) ends with a spectacular view from the new Fairway Market at Red Hook (at top).

The Golden Egg

Why does free food always taste better? In college, free food—generally mediocre, cold-upon-arrival pizza—was the required lure to get people to come to any meeting. As a journalist just arrived in New York, I made whole dinners of free food at promotional events and book parties, stalking trays of tuna tartare and stuffed mushrooms until I was full. I was 25 and these were exquisite meals. And even now, for some reason that is neither greed nor stinginess, but has more to do with a feeling of ceremony, a meal tends to taste particularly wonderful when someone treats you.

But there is another free-food ritual that tastes better than even a whole free meal: the amuse-bouche. An amuse-bouche is that complimentary hors d’oeuvre served before the first course, a surprise treat sent out by the chef. It’s allegedly to distract you from the wait before the appetizer, but really to impress you with his ingenuity. It must be something that even in a small quantity makes a memorable impact, that leaves you with a flash of flavor or richness in just one swallow. It’s a free thrill—always the best kind!

The amuse-bouche is typical especially in French restaurants, and required ritual at any Michelin-starred establishment, where these small bites are presented in a deliciously overwrought pageantry. At the kind of place that has a few stars in the red bible, a white-coated waiter appears at the table unexpectedly, holding immense plates upon which rest miniscule portions of something as yet unrevealed. He bends forward obsequiously, and whispers a complex description of this bite-size miracle, as though letting you in on the secret of your own VIP-ness with this tribute the chef has prepared—it would seem—exclusively for you.

There is one amuse-bouche experience in particular that I will never forget. I had it over ten years ago at L’Arpège, the extraordinary Paris restaurant of Alain Passard, the most experimental of France’s celebrity chefs. It’s on the Rue de Varenne, in a grandiose Left Bank neighborhood of ministries and embassies. The lunchtime crowd in the plush, art deco dining room was all businessmen and deputies, the French government elite who, after lunch, would go back to their offices and continue to run the country. When the waiter deposited the brown-shelled egg in its simple white stand, he described it as a chaud-froid d’oeuf fermier, a cooked then chilled farm fresh egg. It didn’t sound very impressive. It looked like breakfast. He continued: in the eggshell was a warm coddled egg yolk, topped with a dollop of cool whipped cream, a sprinkling of sea salt and chives—and a drizzle of maple syrup.

I couldn’t imagine what it tasted like, and most of all, I couldn’t imagine these elitist technocrats around us starting off their expensed lunch with maple syrup—something that barely exists in France, and that the French tend to associate with the crass American appetite for the cloying and caloric. But the taste was unforgettable: the yellow liquid of the ruptured yolk, blending with the salted airiness of the cream, and cut by the sweetness of the maple syrup, hit three exquisitely high notes. I cleaned out the egg and never forgot it.

It turns out that many others who’ve tasted the chaud-froid d’oeuf haven’t forgotten either. I discovered a whole subculture of chaud-froid worship on the Web, with websites in English, Dutch, French and Spanish describing the ecstatic experience—and sometimes trying to recreate it. Here is a link to one of these recipes.

Of course, it may not taste as good as the one in the art-deco dining room, but that’s just because it won’t be free.

EGGCELLENT Pictured above, a version of Alain Passard's famous egg served at Manresa in Los Gatos, California (photo by The Ulterior Epicure, who has also documented a phenomenal 19-course amuse bouche menu served at Germany's Restaurant Dieter Müller).

Sweetest Way to Travel Back in Time

Ice cream has an uncanny ability to transport one across the dimensions of space and time. A scoop of fresh gelato at Il Laboratorio del Gelato might whisk you away to Florence, while a taste of frozen custard at the Shake Shack may, ever so briefly, have you thinking you’ve landed in St. Louis. And then there are those places that work like time machines, taking you back instantly to a lost era. Jahn’s Old Fashioned Ice Cream Parlour and Restaurant in Richmond Hill, Queens, is one of those places. (Another, for the record, is Eddie’s Sweet Shop in nearby Forest Hills).

Jahn's Hillside Avenue location, which opened in 1923, is the last remaining branch of a small chain of ice cream parlors founded in the Bronx, at 138th Street and Alexander Avenue, by "Papa Jahn" in 1897. Step inside Jahn’s today and, save for some wear around the edges, the place looks nearly as it must have more than 80 years ago. Red booths and carved wood inhabit the darkened space, which feels more like a bar than any modern ice cream operation (or faux retro ice creamery for that matter). The room is illuminated only by amber sconces and stained glass fixtures advertising old-school soda brands like Moxie.

The menu is filled with original artwork and ephemera, including an egg cream how-to and this loving ode to "The Romance of Soda Water": Youth as it sips its first glass, experiences sensations which, like the first sensation of love cannot be forgotten, but are cherished to the last.

There are "Tummy Ticklers" -- sundaes small and large -- with titles and captions like "The Tree" ("This one grows in Jahn’s not in Brooklyn"), "A Shissel" ("If you can’t eat it – use it for washing"), and the "Brooklyn Kibbitzer" ("Shut up and eat"). The showstopper, of course, is "The Kitchen Sink," the shop's signature giant dessert. The mother of all sundaes serves eight for the sum of $42.65.

In an age when we are witnessing the some of New York's most indelible food institutions close up shop (R.I.P. 2nd Avenue Deli), Jahn’s soldiers on as the living ghost of New York's ice cream parlors past. The ice cream at Jahn's may not be the world's finest, but it's the sweetest way to travel back in time.

Jahn’s Old Fashioned Ice Cream Parlour and Restaurant, 117-03 Hillside Avenue, Richmond Hill, New York (718.847.2800).

For more information about the 2006 Independent Food Festival and Awards, visit tasteEverything. In 2005, The Food Section presented the award for Best Thing to Happen to Rice Since Sake to Hitachino Nest Red Rice Ale.

Her First Lobster Roll

If the television camera adds ten pounds, does blogging software take a few inches off of a blogger's height? That's what I was thinking after I met Clotilde Dusoulier last Sunday at Otto, where she was feted by the many fans of her famed food blog, Chocolate & Zucchini. Although she was taller in real life than I had imagined her to be, she otherwise lived up to her blogging persona in every other way -- cute, charming, inquisitive, thoughtful, and completely down-to-earth.

[A digression: it can be amusing the way the mind fills in the gaps when reading blogs. Just recently, in fact, I discovered that I had mistakenly believed that another blogger was the mother of a baby girl. Turns out, the photos on her site were of her niece ("I'm the doting aunt," she wrote me in an email).]

I caught up with Clotilde again this week for lunch at Pearl Oyster Bar. Between the food blogging panel last Thursday, Sunday's get-together at Otto, and our lunch on Wednesday, this has been a surreal week in which my online pursuits have strangely transitioned into the real world, and I have been able to meet so many others involved in this organically formed food blogging community.

Not to wax too philosophical, but I would never have imagined when I created this site that I would be interacting with people around the world with shared interests in food and cooking. The existence and proliferation of food blogs has become so matter of fact that I think I've almost taken it for granted. But, meeting Clotilde in person, who I feel like I know after reading her site for more than a year, reminded me in a very tangible way how much has changed since I started The Food Section almost two years ago.

Back to lunch. I suggested we meet at Pearl Oyster Bar, since I had never been there and always wanted to go, and also because Clotilde had never tasted the glory of a lobster roll. The lobster rolls lived up to their reputation -- warm buttered and toasted hot dog buns split and heaped with big chunks of lobster meat (see recipe here). Clotilde arrived equipped with her own recommendation for an appetizer -- deliciously plump and crunchy fried oysters (which were a first for me). Between bites, we talked about blogging and writing, traded advice about our sites, and discussed her visit to New York City.

So where does a Parisian food blogger go on a gastronomical tour of New York? Armed with a list of recommendations from her readers, she told me that she had been to Chelsea Food Market, might make a trip up to Zabar's later that day, and had been sampling restaurants high and low.

Favorite meals in New York so far? Lunch at Jean-Georges, dinner at Blue Hill, and hamburgers at Shake Shack, she said (though not served by Martha Stewart).

It was great to finally meet Clotilde, and I look forward to reading more about her adventures in New York when she returns home to Paris and, of course, dutifully blogs them.