eater's digest: co. pane

Living in New York City, I am pretty shocked when people tell me they have one "favorite" restaurant or eat at the same place every week. Inundated with a constant stream of new openings and enthusiastic recommendations, I doubt I'll ever be able to reach the end of my edible NYC to-do list. And yet. Sometimes you discover a restaurant that crawls under your skin. It starts with the complementary contrast of innovative comfort food or elevated peasant cuisine - something that will never leave you bored but still satisfies your most primal, childlike cravings. It sneaks up on you, and then suddenly, a few days or weeks later, you are salivating, dying to return, just to have a bite of that one specific dish.

My voracious curiosity for all-things-edible has made me more or less impervious to this condition. I can count the number of Manhattan restaurants I've been to more than twice (writer's research aside) on one hand. And I certainly wasn't expecting a pizza joint to win me over. (My family is Italian and I grew up right outside New Haven, CT - home to the infamous Pepe's clam pizza. Combined with a few recent trips to Italy, it's safe to call me a pizza snob.)

My first visit to Co. was on a date with a chef. He told me it was not only his favorite pizza place, but one of his top restaurants in general. Relieved he hadn't pointed me in the direction of the oft-praised John's pizza, and intrigued by owner Jim Lahey's Sullivan Street Bakery connection, I went along with a more-or-less open mind.

The first thing that won me over was the space. Clean lines, warm woods, and a low-key, hip-but-not-trendy vibe. The staff wasn't stressed, the patrons weren't high maintenance, and everything moved at a distinctly un-NYC pace.

The first thing I tasted at Co. was the radicchio salad with taleggio cheese and shiitake mushrooms. A sucker for anything bitter, this has quickly become one of my favorite salads in the city. On a more recent visit (my fourth, and the first time I've returned to intentionally review the place), I sampled the yellow salad special - summer squash served mild to the point of being almost underdressed, and sprinkled with crunchy peanuts. It was one of the few yellow squash dishes I've ever had that let the vegetable just be. Another addictive standard is the tender, poached artichoke salad with just-salty-enough capers and shavings of parmesan cheese.

As for the pies - the crust is nearly perfect. Thin as you could ever want it, without turning into a droopy mess. Crispy, bubbled, yet still doughy and al dente. Only a Chicago deep-dish craver or shameless Domino's devotee could do anything but rave.

But what is best about Lahey's pies is not just the crust - but also his versatile and uniformly delicious toppings. Many places (see: the aforementioned Pepe's) have one must-have pie. Lahey has several, and keeps 'em coming with new seasonal specials. On the top of my list?

• the Popeye - a blackened spinach pie with pecorino, gruyère, mozzarella, black pepper & garlic. The crunchy, fire-blasted spinach evokes all that is great about grilling, while the cheese balances the char.
• Mushroom & Jalapeño Pie - spice, umami and cheese collide in jalapeño, seasonal mushrooms, béchamel, pecorino, gruyère, garlic confit, and fresh dill. I thought I would find the béchamel too rich - but the mix of creamy, funky and hot is an addictive winner, every time.
• The summer special, Corn Pie - a carb-y pie that I much prefer to the now-ubiquitous potato. Corn puree, mozzarella, parmesan, sungold tomatoes, kale, basil, Aleppo pepper and garlic. The bursts of bright tomato coupled with herbaceous greens and sweet, creamy corn hit on all flavor cylinders. It's worth racing over to Co. before summer's end to see if they'll serve it again.

I can't speak to the wine or beer list at Co., which has become only a vague (but positive) memory. I'm hooked on their alcohol-free artisanal sodas - which change regularly. If they have it, the blood orange is better than incredible.

Maybe there's something about pizza that inspires unconventional loyalty. Or maybe Co. is just that damn good. Either way, I'm happy to have found a spot worth a regular re-run - whether I'm craving the classics or scoping out the seasonal specials.

Co Pane 230 9th Avenue (212) 243-1105

eater's digest: indulging in the east village

Since my last post was an uber-healthy recipe for a veggie breakfast smoothie, what better to follow with than an ode to indulgent junk food?

For those of you who follow me on Twitter, you know I'm really excited about my summer discovery of the nerdy, hilarious food lecture series, Masters of Social Gastronomy (MSG). The first of their talks I attended was on gelatin, which inspired me to go home and make a beautiful jello mold. (Beautiful, that is, until I flipped it upside down, and the half-firm cream layer reminded me that sometimes I should follow a recipe instead of my typical DIY cooking-on-the-fly. The good news is - it was still absolutely delicious!)

I returned to MSG this month for a lecture on ice cream, (which was packed! with delicious samples!) which of course led me to crave the 'cream, hard. So my friends and I devised an ingenious plot to hit up one of the most happening froyo spots in the city - Big Gay Ice Cream.

Of course, it's not really healthy to have ice cream for dinner, is it? (Say no.) Right, agreed. So what just happened to be around the corner from Big Gay? Crif Dogs - the infamous East Village purveyor of hot, salty meat on a bun.

Now, both of these stops on the oh-so-delicious-and-bad-for-you tour were first-time eats for me, making them all the more delightful. In anticipation of an ambitious dessert, I opted for a simple Crif Dog with sauerkraut and mustard - which was, frankly (pun intended), an amazing choice because you could really taste the meat. The Crif Classic, a smoked beef and pork dog, is an ingenious combo of all the things you love about both high- and low-end 'dogs. The meat doesn't taste like "mystery" - it tastes like a smoky, salty, sweating-with-flavor delight on a bun. (Except the bun was much too dry/bland for me. Probably holds up well to the wetter/wilder Crif combos, however).

So after enjoying the tried-and-true NYC meal of hotdogs on a sidewalk, we headed to Big Gay to join the line of eager patrons.

Something I have to give Big Gay major props on,  from the start, is the people in their line seem excited - not miffed, not cynical, but genuinely eager to be in line. I might attribute this to the unicorns and fairy dust that seem to emanate from the place. It really is special, from tip to toe. Also, newbies get a sidewalk menu consultation with a staff member (which is really reassuring and helpful, because when you get inside you will be overwhelmed). I, of course, asked many probing questions about the must-have cones and alternative combinations, and recommend everyone else take full advantage of the very happy staff's expertise at that point.

...Because once you get inside, you need to order - fast. Salty pimp is a classic, you absolutely cannot go wrong with salt, caramel injected soft serve, and chocolate dip. But I was craving the smashed pretzels of the chocolate globs cone (also salty and dipped in chocolate) and I wanted some caramel - so after a bit of back-and-forth, the hilarious man at the counter told me exactly what I needed to have. Chocolate globs, twist soft serve, bourbon caramel. A cone so ripe with all-that-is-right-in-the-world (see: toppings) that it literally needs to be laid down in a little plastic cradle so you can attack it without it exploding into delicious bits.

And you know what? I did not feel disgusting, over fed, or bad about myself after that double-duty indulgence in the East Village. I felt victorious. (Even though now, writing about it, I kind of feel like I'm on speed. Which is actually how my sugared-up friend Gillian sounded when expressing her excitement about Big Gay on the walk home.)

The moral of the story is:

1) Don't go to food lectures hungry, unless you want to be "inspired". 2) Big Gay Ice Cream shop is amazing. Literally magical. And has a higher buttermilk content than most soft serve around. 3) You could do far worse than a plain 'ol juicy dog chez Crif. 4) If for some reason you do get a junk food hangover, I've still got your back in the morning.

recipe: all-green smoothie

We've all heard about the celebrity following and myriad health benefits of "green juices". But even for those of us who like the flavor of "musty grass" (as one friend put it), paying upwards of $9-a-pop for the health fix seems absurd. Moreover, the DIY types will tell you that juicers are labor of love (emphasis on labor - they're obnoxious to clean), and thus often end up on the shelf.  If you've gone through all those steps and still want the green stuff, you've maybe considered the green smoothie option - typically linked with buying the infamous Vitamix (yup, that's where I'm at). But the frugal foodie  - and MacGyver - inside me wouldn't stand for it, so I set off down the green smoothie road with only a mediocre blender at my side. (This isn't the first time I've mis-used my blender for bizarre projects.) Well, the first batch ended up all over my kitchen - but! - it did work. After a few go-rounds, I worked out the kinks and quickly became addicted to the little suckers. I tested the satiation question last week (this isn't a cleanse, and I'm anti-starving oneself for any purpose), and after a busy workweek with only green smoothies for breakfast, I can honestly attest they are energy in a cup. Caffeine without the crash. (Basically, I'm a convert...I'm sipping one now.)

Energy in a Cup: All-Green Smoothie

Ingredients

• 1/2 cup water
• 2 celery stalks
• 1/2 cucumber
• 3 romaine leaves
• 5 kale leaves (de-stemmed)
• 1 ripe avocado
• 1-2 tbsp minced ginger
• 1/4 cup chopped basil
• 1/4 cup chopped mint
• Lemon juice/lime juice/unfiltered apple cider vinegar

Instructions

1. Pour water into your blender.
2. Finely chop and add to blender (one vegetable at a time) celery, cucumber, romaine, kale, avocado.
3. Scoop out ripe avocado, blend into mixture.
4. Add minced/chopped ginger and herbs to mixture.
5. When you are ready to serve, add acidity to taste: either a healthy squeeze of lemon/lime juice, or – for a probiotic boost – a splash of raw, unfiltered apple cider vinegar.

Notes/Tips

1. Blend the cucumbers and celery into the water first. This will create a good liquid base that will make it easier to blend in all the other, rougher veggies. (You can use a wooden spoon to pre-mix the rougher vegetables into pre-existing liquid in order to ease the process.) 2. Be easy on your blender, especially if you don't have a Vitamix. Use the ice-chop/pulse button to break things up before testing the higher settings. 3. Don't overfill your blender. If you get it more than 2/3 full (unless you are making a very water-y smoothie), you will definitely end up with green juice flying around. 4. Make your smoothies on the thick side for easy conservation. Add lemon/lime/apple cider vinegar and extra water just before eating, to make the texture more drinkable.