London vs. Manhattan: A Food-Off

Let me first preface the following culinary diatribe with a qualification. For nearly three years now, I have been eating my way around London, so admittedly I have a slight bias to the British restaurant scene. But, despite this, and despite my innate competitive spirit, I went to New York City last week with an open mind (and an open mouth).

However, compared to the myriad of restaurants I’ve been to in London, you might think that five days and 11 restaurants in NYC is not a fair match-up. But I think I was as diverse as possible in my picks: from urban Asian fusion to European fine dining to American comfort food. And – I can admit it – I did some damn good eating.

Now I’ve been to New York a few times before, but not since my taste buds began to control my life. I put out a call for recommendations of things to do in NYC and, not surprisingly, the lists that came back were dominated by places to appease and delight said taste buds. I barely broke the back of the recommendations list, but I planned my days in the city quite carefully around my various dining choices.

I want to start off with my favourite of those 11 meals, probably not surprisingly, at a British-inspired gastropub: The Spotted Pig in the West Village. I’d been reading about April Bloomfield, the girl from the Midlands who has been taking the Manhattan restaurant scene by storm, and I had to check it out for myself. Forget that I’ve been to my share of superb gastropubs in the UK, from trendy The Garrison in Bermondsey to Gordon Ramsay’s The Narrow in the depths of East London; it was a pleasure to see such an authentic one in the middle of Manhattan.

Obviously, the chef is a Brit, so she knows what she’s doing. She’s also got two Michelin stars and has been written up in Vanity Fair, so I’m not the only one who thinks so. I started my meal with a lovely pint of bitter, The Spotted Pig’s own brew, while my Mom was quite pleased with her pinot grigio (placated after a 45-minute wait to sit down to eat at 11pm). And those were just the beverages.

Both of our mains were heavenly – and at $32 a plate, very well priced for a Michelin-starred dining experience. I freely admit that my pork belly with salsa rossa and polenta was the best I’ve ever had (and I’ve had a lot!) while Mom could not stop talking about her pan-seared sea bass with cauliflower and hazelnuts.

If I had to pick a favourite country for food, I would not hesitate to choose France. And when I ate at Pastis last week, I nearly forgot that I was in New York and not in Paris. While the food was really lovely, I was more enamoured with the atmosphere and décor, a little French café in the midst of the Meatpacking District.

I also dined at August, a small pan-European restaurant on the edge of Greenwhich Village, which my friend Danni chose for her birthday dinner. The restaurant’s version of foie gras – with a roasted quince puree and toasted challah – was definitely in my top five. If you know me, you know foie gras (that endlessly controversial delicacy) is my absolute favourite, so being in my top five is not a small feat.

While in New York, I was also keen to eat at one of the Top 50 Best Restaurants in the World, as ranked annually by 800 international food experts. Unfortunately, the 2012 list wasn’t published until 30 April, which didn’t leave me a lot of time to make reservations. I was especially dedicated to dining at one of American-Korean chef David Chang’s Momofuko restaurants (this was before I learned he is planning to open one in Toronto later this year!). Chang’s Ssam Bar made 37 and his Ko made 79 on the list this year, but I couldn’t get a table at either. So I opted for his Noodle Bar, one of which is in New York’s East Village.

Hyped as Asian comfort food, the restaurant lived up to the build-up. Mom and I shared a pair of sensational pork buns, with hoisin, scallion and cucumber. I also had a noodle bowl (as you do at the Noodle Bar) of chilled spicy noodles with Sichuan spiced sausage, spinach and cashews, while Mom had the chilled crab noodles with lemon, scallion and asparagus. It was the perfect lunch after a day of trekking from the West to East Village.

Still in mind of comfort food, I decided to next try the American version, at hip restaurant Cafeteria in Chelsea. Mindful of the adage ‘When in Rome’, we took a break from European and Asian dining to eat some proper American cuisine. Still rather full from the day’s dining thus far, I tried to keep it light (as light as you can at a restaurant known for its comfort food) with two starters: mac & cheese spring rolls with smoked gouda dipping sauce and truffle parmesan fries. My god! There aren’t even any words. You might say calorific or gluttonous, but I would opt for blissful instead.

Stereotypical American dining was my theme for my last full day in New York too. I had started off the week with an enormous pastrami on rye that nearly killed me, and finished it off with a sublime burger and pizza. The last two bites were courtesy of Danni, my Brit friend recently moved to New York. Growing up in London, she is fully aware of the truly tragic fact that you just can’t get a proper burger or pizza in the UK, so her two choices were testament to her newly found appreciation of these American delicacies.

The former was from the Burger Joint, a tiny but bustling spot hidden behind a curtain in the atrium lobby of the Parker Meridien Hotel on 57th Street. You join a queue that snakes across the lobby, prepared with your order (because they don’t take kindly to indecision), then dig into a greasy brown bag of the most amazing burgers and fries I have tasted in a long time.

The latter was from a New York institution, Lombardi’s Pizza in Little Italy, which was the first pizzeria opened in the city in 1905. We were already deep into a sunny afternoon of lager, so our pizza with homemade meatballs, sautéed garlic spinach and ricotta was the ideal antidote for soaking up the beer. Probably the biggest pie I have ever had the pleasure to meet and served, as is New York tradition, on a raised, silver dish. It was the perfect ending to a week of truly phenomenal cuisine.

So, who’s the winner: Manhattan or London? I’m aware of the fact that I barely scratched the surface of New York City’s culinary masterpieces, so I don’t think it was a very fair fight. But I also don’t think I did badly in achieving a representative New York dining experience. I’m still going to pick London nine times out of ten, though I will admit I fell a little bit in love with the idea of living, and eating, in NYC one day.