A warm sunlight pours into the second floor of a prewar brownstone located at 40.7662355 latitude and -73.9658007 longitude…or more commonly known as the corner of East 65th Street and Lexington Ave. The East Pole, the most recent restaurant by Philip Winser, Benjamin Towhill, and the Brothers Martignetti (Anthony and Tom), has taken up residence in the historic row house...
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Cutting corners is stomached by most, but for ice cream artisans and self-proclaimed foodies Laura O’Neill and the Brothers Van Leeuwen (Ben and Pete), it’s cringe-inducing. They do it right—only (fresh hormone and antibiotic free) milk and cream, cane sugar, egg yolks and generous amounts of sun-sweetened strawberries. It is the freshest strawberry ice cream that has ever hit my lips…and it delivers one hell of a brain freeze...
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The place is hand-drawn—the childlike Garrett "People" Wasserman profiles of boys and girls greet you as you enter—and the rest is wedged between spinning vinyl and cracks in the plaster walls. Sit. Order a dozen on the half shell (selected weekly, the next seven days hold Shigokus from Washington, Ninigret Cups from Rhode Island, and Barcats from Virginia). Sip a Cucumber Julep or a Whiskey Ginger. Relax. Feel. The rhythms around you move on the ride cymbal of a Sonny Boy Williamson song...
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It's five o'clock and we have just ordered a two pound lobster. Carl and I, beyond a bit peckish, carry on debating the merits of five pounders. The bigger the better, right? Conventional American wisdom would think so. But not so with these crustaceans. The young man dropping off our beers chips in his two cents. We listen up. After all, he's the only one out of the three of us that has actually eaten a five pound lobster...
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Drinking out is kind of a luxury. Think about it. A decent scotch will run about $14 a pour. Toss back three of those and you might as well have picked up your own bottle. Enter drinking at home. Not only is it economical (we like economical), but it's as good an excuse as any to fill your home with friends while also setting up your own home bar. It was William Morris who held, "Have nothing in your home that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful." We tend to agree—and a grog tray is both...
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Tucked away in a dark, crowded American gastropub in Santa Monica is the one burger we go out of our way for when we're in L.A. The gospel served on a soft roll. It’s simply a patty of fine dry-aged beef topped with caramelized onions, Gruyère and Maytag cheeses, applewood-smoked bacon compote, and arugula. A local and self-proclaimed foodie introduced us to the joint back in 2007. Every time this burger hits our lips, we crown it "Best Burger…Ever.” Every time.
Welcome to Father’s Office.
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