By Michele Laudig
Here's some more porno for foodies.
A dear friend and I stopped by NOCA last night and couldn't resist the night's special, a lobster roll with a big pile of duck fat fries.
My god, we were ecstatic. The meat was impossibly tender and sweet, mixed with celery root and coated in aioli, and the bread was insanely good -- Karsh's rolls sizzled in herb butter until they were crispy and golden. I couldn't fall asleep last night, it was that delish. The fries were great, in that sinister way that makes you eat more than you intended. We also loved the homemade pickles.
But here's the consolation: they're going to be serving the lobster roll special every week now, on Wednesdays. And impressively, chef Chris Curtiss is getting his lobster from "one of America's most famous fishmongers" (says the NY Times): Ingrid Bengis. She counts the French Laundry among her select group of customers, so that's pretty cool.
All of this reminds me of when I was a kid, and my parents owned a seafood shop. Mom cooked shrimp and fish and crabcakes all the time, and you'd think I would've been grateful. Well, I was, but I still just wanted lobster. I'd whine for lobster like some kids would whine for a new Barbie. These days, I realize I am still mommy's little monster.