Lucali, my new favorite pizza place

Before I moved to my new apartment, I ate out a few nights per week. I kept a running list of restaurants to try and regularly spent $50 and up for a single meal. With a mortgage to pay and spacious kitchen to cook in, I'm all about potlucks and cooking clubs and dinner parties. When I do dine out, I keep it cheap. Korean burritos at Momofuku Ssam, dumplings at Rickshaw, the vegetarian banh mi at Nicky's, and pizza. Lots and lots of pizza.

It's easy to find good pizza in Brooklyn, but up until Friday, I felt like there was a small catch at every spot.

At Di Fara, home to what I believe is the borough's best pizza, pies are made with the utmost care. At a snail's place. Unless you score a table, you're forced to stand and stare. It's fun the first and second time. The third and fourth? Not as much.

Grimaldi's is another favorite, but waiting in line for at least an hour every single time gets old fast. Once inside, you'd expect a warm and friendly welcome. Instead, the servers are cold and abrasive.

This summer, I fell in love with Spumoni Gardens where fat squares of sicilian are topped with cheese and THEN tomato sauce. I love the tacky dining room and the fact that Paulie Walnuts (aka, Tony Sirico) thinks it's the best pizza in town. If only Bensonhurst were just a little closer to my apartment!

At Franny's in Prospect Heights, the pizza is top-notch. But throw in some wine and appetizers, and suddenly, my cheap night out has become a total splurge.

And then there's Lucali, my new favorite pizza place. Sitting in between big, beautiful brownstones on a sleepy street in Carroll Gardens, this is exactly where I want to eat pizza from now on.

Just like the other pizza joints, they don't take reservations and there's always a wait. The difference is that Lucali doesn't stick you in a long, neverending line. Diners are actually encouraged to take a stroll or go pick up a bottle of wine since the restaurant is BYOB. Once a table is ready, they'll call your cell phone. How progressive! For those who aren't big on walking, there's a cozy bench right outside.

The menu consists of two options -- pizza and calzones -- and rather than get annoyed or leave while Daniel, our friends Mark and Allison, and I went back and forth and forth and back on what to order, our waitress just stood there smiling while we made what felt like A VERY IMPORTANT DECISION. She didn't dare rush us or even smirk. She understood the seriousness of the situation.

Lucali was opened by Mark Iacano, a Carroll Gardens native who had never made a pie of pizza in his life. He spent two years gut renovating the space and what was once his childhood candy shop is now a warm and cozy restaurant with a tin ceiling, hardwood floors, and wooden tables.


He visited Di Fara to get some pointers and his thin pies with a crackly crust taste almost exactly like Dom's. He uses a mix of mozzarella cheeses, grana padano and his grandmother's secret sauce.

We ordered three pies: two plain and one with peppers, onions and pepperoni. After all that indecision, it was the plain pizza, with just a few fresh basil leaves that won us over. It was sweet and simple, just the way good pizza should be.

And it was pretty cheap! $69 when all was said and done (not counting the bottle of wine we bought while waiting for our table). We weren't able to finish the third pie, which was fine by me since two leftover slices made a delicious late-night snack the very next night.

Lucali
575 Henry Street (at Carroll Street)
Brooklyn, NY
718-858-0486

Mini chocolate chip ice-cream sandwiches

Why, when my fridge is full of delicious summer fruits (really ripe cantaloupe, a bag of organic grapes, the plumpest peaches ever) do I find it necessary to make ice cream sandwiches at 10pm on a weeknight?

All throughout the summer, my friends and family complain that the heat steals their hunger, that they can only stomach simple salads and unfussy, no-cook foods.

Nope, not me.

I still crave hearty meals. Creamy pastas, buttery tarts stuffed with goat cheese and leeks, pies of pizza. And real desserts. Sure, juicy plums or watermelon slices are a refreshing end to any summer meal. It's just that when I'm given the choice between a piece of fruit and a more substantial dessert (say, peach cobbler or a whoopie pie), I always go for the really sugary stuff.

I'll go the healthy route when eating lunch at work, in the confines of my cubicle. But once I'm home and dinner is done, I start scheming about all sorts of unnecessary sweets. Case in point: these ice cream cookie sandwiches that I made last night, just an hour before bed.

The recipe is simple. You whip up a batch of basic chocolate chip cookies, slap a couple tablespoons of ice cream between two, then freeze for a few hours. When frozen, the cookies stay surprisingly soft and chewy and the mini chocolate chips make each bite really rich and sweet. They taste just like the ice cream sandwiches I loved as a kid (minus all the freaky ingredients).

I worked at home today, and after breakfast, I sliced up some cantaloupe and promised myself that I'd eat a big bowl of it after lunch. For dessert. When 2pm rolled around, do you really think I wanted a cup of fruit? Instead, I rushed to the freezer like a disobedient child and treated myself to another mini chocolate chip ice-cream cookie sandwich. Tonight, after dinner, I WILL eat that fruit. Well, I'll try.

On another note, I'd like to pat myself on the back for some improvements over this past year. Some of you might remember that one of my first posts featured another ice cream sandwich I found on Everyday Food, although that experience wasn't nearly as enjoyable (perhaps because I chose to make the ice cream myself) as this one.

Not only did these ice cream sandwiches turn out way better, but I think my photography skills have improved quite a bit. Wouldn't you agree?



Mini Chocolate Chip Ice-Cream Sandwiches
From Everyday Food
Makes 12

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (spooned and leveled)
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 cup packed light-brown sugar
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup sour cream
1 large egg
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups mini chocolate chips
1 pint vanilla ice cream, softened

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees, with rack in center. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking soda, and salt. Using an electric mixer, beat butter and sugars until light and fluffy. Add sour cream, egg, and vanilla; beat until smooth. With mixer on low, gradually add flour mixture; mix in 1 cup chocolate chips.

2. Using 1 rounded tablespoon per cookie, drop mounds of dough, about 1 1/2 inches apart onto two baking sheets (you'll have about 25 to 30 cookies). Bake until golden, 10 to 12 minutes; transfer to a rack to cool completely.

3. Scatter remaining chocolate chips on a plate. Place 2 tablespoons ice cream between 2 cookies, bottoms facing in, press gently. Roll the sides of each sandwich in chips (if ice cream is melting, place sandwiches in freezer until firm enough to roll in chips). Transfer sandwiches onto baking sheets. Freeze until firm, at least 2 hours; then wrap individually in plastic. Freeze up to 2 weeks.

Come inside my kitchen

Daniel and I have shared five kitchens together. There was the one in Brazil that had a big pantry, a bathroom, a laundry machine and hanging contrapment to dry our clothes.

I used to make homemade tortillas there and Daniel would always squeeze all sorts of fresh juice (orange and carrot, or just plain pineapple were favorites).

In our first Brooklyn kitchen, we had white cabinets, a speck of counter space, a flowery backsplash and a crew of devilish cockroaches that I've tried hard to forget.

All our apartments in NY have been small and the one we just left in Cobble Hill was no exception.

Its saving grace?

A dining table that could seat 8 (the perfect place for prepping big meals), and a backyard with roses, hydrangeas, and even a lilac tree. We cooked and ate outdoors as much as possible the three years we lived there.

I have fond memories of these kitchens and the other ones we've shared and still, the one in our new apartment, the one we've only cooked in for a few months, is without a doubt, the best. Not just because it feels spacious (it can fit at least four people comfortably!), or because it has a dishwasher (something the four before it did not), but because we designed it ourselves.

When we first looked at this apartment, on a frigid day in February, the entire place was a dump. Still, something about the space spoke to us. There were snow-covered trees outside the windows and a pretty view of Prospect Park. And after spending three years in a dark ground-floor apartment, the natural light drew us in.

A gut renovation was a must, so we dove in headfirst. Daniel, the handiest man I've ever met, handled logistics. He drew up plans, ran them by our co-op board, and worked alongside our contractor installing stuff. I focused on paint colors, fixtures, countertops, and flooring. I read and re-read every issue of Domino magazine and filled a binder with ideas. I made decisions. Changed my mind a lot. Obsessed over each and every detail. It was exhausting and educational. Stressful, but fun.

(Daniel will say I'm crazy, but I'd definitely do it again).

A few days ago, we hit the three-month mark and it finally feels like home. We both love waking up in our bedroom.

The walls are a soft sky-blue and a hanging lantern we bought in Morocco casts the most calming glow. In the second bedroom, our desk faces a window that looks out on the park. There couldn't be a better place to sit and type. The bathroom is small, even by NY standards, but with a high ceiling and natural stone floor, it feels like a mini spa.

And then there's our lovely kitchen. Here's what it looked like before.

And, now ta da! Here it is post-renovation.

We knocked down a wall to open it up and added in some much needed counter space. When friends used to come over to our other apartments, I hated being unable to interact with them while I cooked. Now, they pull up a stool and and chat while I chop.

There's even a window, right next to the stove. To help spruce up the view (it looks out on a dingy courtyard) Daniel filled a window box with fresh herbs.

When I made a summery salad the other night with tomatoes and the most delicious melt-in-your-mouth mozzarella, I didn't need to run to the store for basil. I just opened the window and a plucked a few pieces.

For cabinets, we compared prices at Ikea, Cabinet Fair and Home Depot, before finally settling on Lowes. Long story short, the whole process was painful and I hope to never shop there again. What's important is that they're all finally in! Thirteen cavernous cabinets.

There's one full of glasses and plates. Another for vinegars and spices. Skinny ones for cookie sheets and cooling racks, and we packed a few with toilet paper.

Two deep drawers hold my arsenal of pots and pans and a set of rolling shelves keep pantry staples and tupperwares in place.

At first I really wanted a marble countertop. But after hearing how porous it is, I went with a a man-made quartz that looks close enough. White with the softest gray waves, it even fooled Daniel's Mom (a successful geologist) for a second. Perfect for a neat freak like myself, it shows every spot, streak and crumb. And just like marble, it's great for rolling out dough, too.

The walls are a bluish grey, and the hardwood floor resembles a dark cup of coffee. From the living room, the penny tiles on our backsplash seem to sparkle.

Close up, they just look glossy, and each one is a slightly different shade.

And I can hardly believe it myself, but for the first time in 8 years, we have a dishwasher! I told Daniel before we moved in that having one would surely change our lives, and it really has. We use it wisely (only when completely full, and we've found that the eco-wash works just fine), but already my lower back doesn't ache in quite the same way. All those years of hand-washing dishes really took their toll, I guess.

So safety issues aside, I'm still in love with our new place. Before we moved, I liked eating out a few nights a week. I often felt too tired or lazy to cook. These days, I can't wait to get home and hang out in my kitchen.

What do all of you love about your kitchens?

Montauk, take me away

There's nothing like a quick beach getaway. Especially after you've had a few bad weeks. You forget about your hectic city life. Waves in the ocean become your biggest fear, and even though they knock you over not once, but twice, and you feel like a loser for being afraid (HOW you were a lifeguard for three summers, you have no idea), you're still happy because your skin feels salty and you're no longer snowy white.

Yes, people, I finally spent a weekend on the beach! My first one all summer. I went to Montauk with a group of girls that I've known for almost my entire life. Many of us met when we were as young as 4 or 5.

We are like family. We fight like siblings and laugh like old, old friends. Growing up, we practically lived at each other's houses, spent hours talking on the phone, played all sorts of sports, went to concerts, snuck into bars, kissed the same boys, took the train to Manhattan and the Stamford Mall, and ate lots of pizza and bagels and ice cream together.

I was one of the first to leave for college and they all came to see me off. I sobbed the whole way there. Leaving them felt like losing a limb. I stumbled through my first semester. I made new friends, but missed being a part of a big, boisterous group. After graduation, almost all of us moved back to New York.

These days, we're doing different things and are on separate paths. But the bond is still there. It's hard to lose when you've shared so much.

Even when it comes to eating, we know each other inside out. Ginger likes her French fries extra, extra, EXTRA crispy. Jeanne freaks out when different foods on her plate overlap. Courtney (who couldn't come on this trip because she was about to have a baby -- the first one of us to become a mom,), isn't big on sweets. Margherita and Renata, both raised in Italian families, love to cook. Nina's always up for Mexican. I'll spare you the details on everyone, but see what I mean?

This trip, a bachelorette for Margherita, involved lots of eating. There was our first dinner at Oyster Pond, a casual place where Renata and I both loved the striped bass with mango salsa and grilled veggies. At some point in the evening, I caught Jeanne and Sunetra trying to steal my glass of Cloudy Bay.

For our first lunch, we sampled what many believe is Montauk's best lobster roll. It was definitely the most generous one I've ever eaten. Packed with big scoops of lobster salad, it was hard to pick up.

There was too much mayo and everyone agreed something was missing. The bun could have been toastier, too.

I had one at the Clam Bar the next day and it was much better.

It was a much skimpier serving, but with just a touch of mayo and a lot less celery, the flavors really popped.

At Harvest, a pretty place that overlooked a pond, Renata and I ordered for the table. Food is served family-style, so we chose two pastas (farfalle with sausage and peas and penne with a creamy vegetable sauce), swordfish in a butter sauce, a whole snapper stuffed with lemon and ginger, a caprese salad, seared tuna, and everyone's favorite dish: pancetta wrapped shrimp with a warm bean salad.

Marg treated us to dessert on the patio and we retold some of our favorite stories from the past. An unforgettable trip to St. Thomas. A mean math teacher who ruined Mona's high school prom by telling her she failed Pre-Calculus. As all these girls will tell you, I love to reminisce. There couldn't be better people to do it with.

On our last day together, we bickered like old friends sometimes do. Rather than dwell, we said how we felt, then hit the beach. The sky was a piercing blue and the sun was strong.

Ginger went to return a bike she rented and came back with Coronas and the best malted I've ever tasted.

Huddled around Jeanne's cell phone, we called Courtney. She'd welcomed Fletcher Maxwell into the world that very day. The last time we all took a trip together was for her bachelorette, two years ago.

Before I headed home that night, we went back to the Clam Bar for our last dinner. We feasted. New England and Manhattan clam chowder, lobster, popcorn shrimp, tuna bites and corn on the cob. For dessert, we sang a bachelorette rendition of Happy Birthday and passed around slices of carrot cake and key lime pie.

When I got to my car, I was full and giddy. The weekend had flown by, but I felt different. Rejuvenated. Ready to take on the city, whatever curveballs it tried to throw my way.

I flew back to Brooklyn, making it home in just two hours flat. That's gotta be a good sign. Right?

Oyster Pond
4 South Elmood Ave
Montauk, NY
631-668-4200

Lobster Roll (a.k.a "Lunch)
1980 Montauk Highway
Amagansett, NY
631-267-3740

Harvest
11 S Emory Street
Montauk, NY
631-668-5574

Clam Bar
Montauk Highway (across the street from Lunch)
Amagansett, NY
631-267-6348