Food by Mail: Pandemic Carrot Cake

Carrot Cake -- Lloyd's Carrot Cake, Riverdale, NY

Lloyd's Carrot Cake

Essential supplies one needs during a global pandemic: Face masks. Hand sanitizer. Carrot cake.

We Didn't Make the Rules

Over one-hundred days into the coronavirus lockdown, Vodka, in NYC, receives a text from Ginger, in CA, alerting her that a shipment is about to arrive at Vodka's front desk. 

"Happy Birthday, Here's a Fruit Cake," Take 2

"Sorry to make you leave your safe zone," Ginger writes, as Vodka has righteously declared herself the "Winner of Quarantine." Not only does she not go outside (literally ever), she only leaves the confines of her apartment in the middle of the night while sporting a homemade hazmat suit in order to fetch packages from her lobby. 

When Your Health Fears Stand in the Way of Your Snacks

But once it's revealed that Ginger's mysterious gift is perishable, Vodka decides to risk life and limb to shuffle downstairs mid-afternoon to claim her prize.

Also Convenient, as Her Own Food Supply Was Already Running Low

Waiting for Vodka is a box from Lloyd's Carrot Cake, the home of Alex Guarnaschelli's Best Thing I Ever Ate ALL AMERICAN dessert. Inside the cardboard box, Vodka finds an insulation bag... with an entire carrot cake plopped in the middle. 

Oh, Hello There

The delicacy looks virtually unscathed, considering the fact that it has journeyed through the wilds of FedEx in little more than a Ziploc. 

Sturdy Transportation Device?

Once Vodka frees it from the bag, she sticks it in the refrigerator to give it a moment to recover from its pilgrimage.

Along with Its Friend, the Now-Melted Ice Pack

Later that evening, while deep into a glass of rose, Vodka manages to unfurl the cake's Saran Wrap covering with only three hand washings, and then debates whether to cut herself a piece or just dive into the creation fork-first. 

Will Touch Multiple Potentially Contaminated Surfaces to Procure Cake

Opting for the more civilized route, if only for the sake of pictures, she heaves a butter knife into the cake. Based on the heavy weight of the shipping box, and the amount of effort it takes to cut a piece, one would assume that the cake would be extremely dense. 

A Forkful of Sugar Makes the Pandemic... Oh, Never Mind

However, the cake proves to be surprisingly light in texture -- it's the half-inch of delectable cream cheese frosting on top that is weighing the entire enterprise down.

Frosting-to-Cake Ratio on Point

With orange shards of visible carrot pieces throughout, this is the most carroty of any carrot cake Vodka has tasted. 

Peter Rabbit Approved

Light, moist, and spiced with cinnamon, the cake is complemented perfectly by the icing, which would be cloying in its sweetness if paired with a different cake flavor. But this combination is truly stupendous, and upon polishing off her piece, Vodka debates procuring a second.

By the Next Day, She Has Lost All Sense of Decorum

Thanks to the wonders of Lloyd's packaging techniques, their cake-in-a-bag proves that being separated by 3000 miles and a worldwide pandemic doesn't mean you can't still share dessert with friends.

Especially When You Don't Actually Have to Share It

Lloyd's Carrot Cake's Carrot Cake: 5 stars*

*Certifiable Best Thing We Ever Ate

Into the Boroughs: We're Only Here Cause We Have a Gift Card

Meatloaf Sandwich -- Rye, Brooklyn, NY
Rye

In what should come as a surprise to no one, Vodka has spent the better part of the past two weeks engaged in a heated customer service battle.  After a particularly contentious interaction with the manager of a Michael Psilakis dining establishment, Vodka has taken her complaints to the very top of the restaurant group, eventually resulting in a $50.00 gift card to MP Taverna in Williamsburg (aka the poor souls who, through no fault of their own, ended up on the receiving end of Vodka's wrath by the mere "fortune" of having the most Googleable phone number).

Getting Mad in Manhattan Leads to Revenge in Brooklyn

Because Vodka is spiteful, she is adamant that she will not spend a dollar more than the $50 afforded her, and she therefore recruits Ginger, always up for a half-price day drink, to accompany her to the place's happy hour... where we manage to spend precisely $50.09.  For once in our lives, math is on our side.

For the Record, We Also Left a Tip. We Are Not Barbarians

Luckily -- or unluckily for them, as the case may be -- because we had refused to order anything more than a dip plate at MP Taverna, so as to not exceed our quota (after all, we needed to fit four drinks within that $50), we are forced to find another place in Williamsburg in which to actually consume food.

Now What Is That Majestic Sign Beckoning Us in a Distance?

We discover that Rye is a mere ten minutes away, and it is home to none other than the chosen Best Thing I Ever Ate MESSY dish of Michael Psilakis himself, the meatloaf sandwich.

Not Pictured: The Stray Cat That Was Circling the Entrance. Welcome to Brooklyn

Once again, Rye has the misfortune of being on the receiving end of Vodka's current distrust of all Psilakis-endorsed products, as if he cannot be relied upon to hire a competent restaurant manager, we're not sure what business he has judging meatloaf.

As a Warning, Psilakis, Vodka Tends to Hold a Grudge

Upon being seated at Rye, we notice a placard proclaiming their happy hour specials: a $5 Old-Fashioned and a $5 burger.

Too Bad We Have to Eat the Meatloaf Instead -- Thwarted Again!

Vodka takes them up on the Old-Fashioned offer, while Ginger goes back to her roots with a gin martini.

Putting the Gin in Ginger

Upon tasting the Old-Fashioned, it becomes obvious why it's so cheap: there is hardly any liquor in it (at least to Vodka's discerning tastebuds).

Yes, This Time, Could I Have One with Some Whiskey?

She quickly downs the concoction and asks for a Bulleit Manhattan, which arrives in the smallest cocktail glass known to man.

Here's a Hint, Rye: We Like a BIG POUR and We Have Bad Spatial Relations Skills

"Why do restaurants do this?" Ginger scoffs.  "What is the point of ever, EVER, making a drink look smaller?"  She lifts her own glass for a toast anyway, while Vodka bats her hand out of the way for
the sake of a picture.  ("Cheers.  Oh, never mind."  How soon Ginger forgets the rules and regulations of this blog).

This Interaction Followed Vodka Having to Boot Ginger Out of the Doorway In Order to Capture This All-Important Shot

To Rye's great credit, when we placed our order, we specified that we would be sharing the meatloaf sandwich, and they take it upon themselves to saw the creation in half and present us each with our own plate, thus doubling our serving of pickles (always a plus).

Thanks For Not Making Us Look Like Cheapskates

The meatloaf itself is piled high with crispy onions which are pleasingly salty, and it is sandwiched between a focaccia roll which manages to hug the sandwich's insides (also including caramelized onions and greens) in all the right places, holding the whole thing together (therefore, we're really not sure what Michael Psilakis was talking about with his MESSY demarcation, not that we're complaining, as we hate messy things).  Despite these strong components, however, the sandwich itself underwhelms us.  There is nothing offensive about it, but it's not particularly wonderful either.  What is most disconcerting is that despite the fact that there are not one, not two, but THREE varieties of pickles on our platters, we don't find any of them particularly pleasing (partly because they are quite spicy for our liking).  In fact, we leave the majority of them on our plates, which is unheard of when it comes to us and pickles.

Meaning We Are Not Pickle Connoisseurs. We Will Eat Any Pickle Placed in Front of Us. Except These

True to form, when it comes time to pay, Vodka whips yet another gift certificate out of her bag, this one from acquiring a multitude of OpenTable points.  Which seems to hammer home the point that if there's one way to get us to venture to Brooklyn on a regular basis, it is to ply us with the thought of free food and alcohol.

You're Welcome for Our Presence, Williamsburg

Unless, of course, Brooklyn would just prefer us to stay home.  Which somehow seems more likely.

Rye's Meatloaf Sandwich: 3 stars

This Must Be How Olive Garden Tastes to Other People

Linguine with Clams and Mussels in Saffron Broth -- Tree Bistro

Tree Bistro

Call us crazy, but once a restaurant has a particular dish featured on a national television program, they should not take said dish off of their menu for YEARS on end.  This has always been our issue with Tree Bistro which, despite having the linguine with clams and mussels in saffron broth featured by Danny Boome on the OBSESSIONS episode of Best Thing I Ever Ate, did not actually offer this pasta for the majority of the five years we have been doing this blog.

Um, Do You Think You're Too Good for the Food Network? Because No One Is Too Good for the Food Network

Clearly, times are hard at Tree nowadays, as suddenly there is a "seafood linguine" dish back on the menu, along with the demarcation that this was the dish "featured on Best Thing I Ever Ate!"  It appears this ploy for publicity is too little, too late, as when we walk in for our 6:00 PM reservation on a Friday, the place is completely and totally empty.  

Do You Hear the Proverbial Crickets Chirping?

We are seated on the all-season patio by ourselves, Ginger positioning herself directly in front of the heater, and our solo dining experience would remain this way for the entirety of our meal.  It seems we're not the only ones that have grown fed up with Tree's "now you see it, now you don't" menu antics.

'Tis the Problem with Being Wishy-Washy With Your Linguine, We Suppose

We place our order, Vodka for the seafood linguine, and Ginger for the burger.  When we're asked whether or not we'd like an appetizer, it is all we can do not to reply, "No, we already ate a cheesecake," and we instead dive into the provided bread basket, all but polishing off all six slices by the time our waitress returns with the wine.  

Yes, We'll Take Another Loaf, Thanks

It is during this time that Ginger announces, as if she has had some huge philosophical epiphany, "I've come to realize that there are two types of people in the world: the fun people and the unfun people."  

Translation: Fun People Order a Bottle of Wine at Dinner (or Two or Three); Unfun People Don't

While we would consider ourselves squarely in the "fun" group, we're not sure the staff of Tree feels the same, as the person refilling our water decides to ask Vodka, "How did you hear about this place?"  (We assume they are trying to figure out how they got two more customers than usual on a Friday night.)

"Best Thing I Ever Ate," Vodka answers her, which is greeted with surprise, as if even the workers themselves had forgotten this place ever had their fifteen seconds of fame.

It Seems Instead of Serving Their Famous Linguine, Tree Was Choosing to Emboss Their Wine Glasses

Thankfully for Tree, our blog is about as popular as they are, so legions of people will not see our not-so-glowing review of their alleged Best Thing I Ever Ate linguine.  We say "alleged" because we are not convinced this is actually the dish that Danny Boome tasted on the show, being that we can't discern even the slightest hint of saffron in the broth.  

Someone Please Place "Saffron" on the Back of a Milk Carton, Because It's Missing

While the linguine noodles themselves are fairly pleasing, the accompanying mussels and clams are downright cold, and the broth itself is underwhelming at best, and overly salty at worst (even to our heavily salted palates).  

Cold as a Fish. Literally

Ginger's burger is similarly edible, but not all that special (especially when she manages to massacre it with her fork and knife, which is what she inexplicably tends to do to all burgers.  This practice causes Vodka to note, "You eat a burger in a very disturbing way.")

How Does This Possibly Happen?!

We want to say that this particular bowl of pasta is no better than what one could find at a local Olive Garden -- but then again, we love Olive Garden, so we don't wish to disparage them in such a way.  Instead, we think this dish must be like what other people -- the people who look down on Olive Garden -- taste when they go to the holiest of Italian chain eateries.  

Related Thought: Does Olive Garden Serve French Fries? Because They Should

Overall, we do not understand how one could ever be "obsessed" with this dish, and by the looks of the empty tables at Tree, it's becoming more obvious that no one really is.  Perhaps this should teach all restaurants a valuable lesson about ever removing a Best Thing I Ever Ate-featured dish from their menu: that not only will it hurt their attendance levels, but it will also do something much, much more disturbing: make them look completely "unfun."

Tree Bistro's Linguine with Clams and Mussels in Saffron Broth: 3 stars

Always Eat Dessert First

Fromage Blanc Island Cheesecake -- Chikalicious Dessert Bar

Chikalicious Dessert Bar

It appears our recent foray around Los Angeles has inspired us to continue banging through the last few restaurants on our Best Thing I Ever Ate Manhattan list, as mere weeks after returning, we can be found traipsing through the streets of the East Village in search of our next meal.  

We Had Almost Forgotten What It Was Like to Eat With a Camera and Vodka Frantically Scribbling Notes

Our initial plan had been to meet at Tree Bistro, but being that the place doesn't open until 5:00 PM -- a full fifteen minutes away -- and that we have a patience of a couple of fleas with ADD, we decide to flip our itinerary and head to Chikalicious Dessert Bar first.  This means that we are going to consume a bevy of desserts before our actual dinner, which, all in all, does not seem like the worst plan we have ever come up with.

Particularly Because the Word "Bar" Is in the Restaurant's Name

We're not quite sure what has taken us so long to make our way to Chikalicious, other than the fact that we never really understood the concept of the place.  Within seconds of sitting down on its bar stools, it becomes obvious that we still don't, as we are incapable -- separately but equally -- of figuring out the menu.  

Here's Our Order: Wine and Cheesecake. Snap to It

While we are here to taste Johnny Iuzzini's Best Thing I Ever Ate BETTER THAN MINE dish, the fromage blanc island cheesecake, we also -- naturally -- would like to order some cocktails.  But, in a comprehension challenge that takes Vodka way too long to figure out, at Chikalicious, the only way to order the cheesecake is through the prix fixe menu, which includes an amuse and a plate of petit fours.  

Why Is All of This Menu Reading Standing Between Us and Our Booze?

While Vodka struggles with this concept, Ginger is currently in a full-on internal debate about the optional wine pairing that could come with the cheesecake, and it is not until one of the staff members walks us through the menu like we're illiterate kindergarteners that we finally seem to get the hang of it.

At This Point, We Wouldn't Be Surprised If We Inexplicably Ended Up Ordering a Pastrami Sandwich

We choose one prix fixe item, for which Ginger picks the wine pairing, and Vodka selects a glass of "Zinsanity" red wine, merely because it is just about the only one on the whole alcohol menu that does not seem to be sweet.  

The Lucy and Ethel of the Wine World

At Chikalicious, all of the desserts are prepared directly in front of you, as if they're craft cocktails at a hipster bar.  This may be a great concept for some people, but for us, it is distracting at best and awkward at worst.  

Are We Supposed to Talk to Each Other or Watch You? It's All So Confusing

The beauty of Chikalicious's creations cannot be denied, but frankly, we don't really care to see our sugar blended -- just bring us something to eat, and we'll eat it, no questions asked.  

Please Note Our Proximity to the All-Important Blender

We are given our miniature amuse dish, but what we are NOT given is a single clue as to what it consists of ("Tea?  It tastes like tea.  Do you think it's tea?" = repeat this ten times, and this is us trying to figure out what we're eating).  

Apparently, If You Want an Explanation at Chikalicious, You Have to Read the Menu

It is strictly "fine," as are our respective glasses of wine, but they are also not the reason we are here.  That honor belongs to the cheesecake, and when it is placed before us, even we can't deny that it looks exactly like something we would love.

Aka It Looks Like Melted Ice Cream -- Our Ideal Dessert Texture

Atop a pile of shaved ice, a rounded mound of... well, we have no idea what it is, really, but it is definitely not a cheesecake we're used to.

It is better.

What Is This Majesty?

"I literally would eat this for every meal," Ginger says after barely having swallowed her first spoonful.  

To Be Fair, It Was a Fairly Spoonful

Light and astoundingly fluffy, this cheesecake is more like a molded pudding than an actual cake, and it is topped by a solid pour of heavy cream.  Despite Chikalicious's open dessert bar atmosphere, we are still completely flummoxed as to how it was created, and the staff does not appear overly eager to reveal, well, much of anything.  

All We Know Is A Lot Seemed to Happen In That Blender

What we are certain of is that this cheesecake -- or "cheesecake," as the case may be -- just may be the best one we have ever had, both due to its creamy texture and its only lightly sweetened flavor.  

Could We Have Another to Go In Case Our Dinner Doesn't Work Out?

We have barely recovered from our love of the cheesecake when a tiny plate of three petit fours is placed before us.  

They're Not Kidding About the "Petite" Bit

While Chika herself does deign to tell us what each of them are, we're still too busy thinking about the previous dessert (and to be fair, getting loaded from our glasses of wine) to listen.  

The Infamous Chika, Partially Blocked by Vodka's Empty Wine Glass

We believe they consist of some sort of chai tea creation, and coconut marshmallow, and something that, when Ginger attempted to take her "half bite" of it, she ended up placing ninety-percent of it in her mouth.  ("Here's your half," she says to Vodka).  

Now You See It, Now You Don't

Vodka notes that the plate the petit fours have arrived on looks like something one could find in Epcot -- our highest form of praise -- which we nevertheless can only hope that the Chikalicious staff did not overhear, as we feel like we might just be the two biggest dopes to ever grace their premises.

Moral of Our Story: We Never Know What We're Eating and We Never Really Care

Having now effectively pre-gamed our dinner with sweet wine and cheesecake, we stumble out of the premises and onto our next meal, armed with the thought that always eating dessert first just may be a concept we could get behind.

Particularly, if said dessert is served at a bar.

Chikalicious Dessert Bar's Fromage Blanc Island Cheesecake: 5 stars*

*Certifiable Best Thing We Ever Ate