In Da Kitchen

SOUTHERN HOSPITALITY, 9th Avenue near 45th Street, Hell’s Kitchen. There’s a second location on Second Avenue
August 29, 2011

Editor's note: My friend, ex-roommate and bar-b-cutie Jessica and I visited this restaurant in late July, about four days before I left New York. We’re just getting around to posting this, so apologies if this seems a bit out of order. We haven’t written about barbecue in a while, so this is actually good timing. As always, let us know what you think. Unlike me, Jess still lives in New York, and would love to get suggestions and feedback. We'll still occasionally write about non-barbecue stuff in this space, because we simply can't eat this succulent stuff all the time.


Mark

I’ll get to the restaurant in a minute. First, I’d like to share my favorite story (there are many) on how the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood of New York City got its moniker. In the late 1800s, a veteran cop named Dutch Fred was observing the latest gang fight on West 39th Street near 10th Avenue with his rookie partner. As punches were thrown and heads became bloody, the astonished rookie cop allegedly said: “This place is hell itself.” His battle-weary partner countered: “Hell’s a mild climate. This is Hell’s Kitchen.”

I’m allowing myself to become nostalgic because I leave my beloved New York in a matter of days. And Hell’s Kitchen is where I’ve lived for years. Like a lot of recent transplants to New York, I’ve hung my hat in several apartments in various neighborhoods. But Hell’s Kitchen was the best fit for me. The neighborhood is a bit seedy but can occasionally be kind, and appears slightly run-down but is still ruggedly handsome, when viewed in just the right light. But I (finally) digress.
Despite its violent, riotous history, the kitchens of Hell’s Kitchen are now

producing some of the best affordable food in the city. From the Thai food of Aceluck to the Greek seafood of Uncle Nick’s, Ninth Avenue and its cross streets have become a slightly grittier extension of Restaurant Row in nearby Times Square. Among the more recent entries is Southern Hospitality on Ninth Avenue, a barbecue joint created by, among others, actor, rapper and all-around superstar Justin Timberlake.
This restaurant on Ninth Avenue is one of two Southern Hospitality ‘cue joints in Manhattan. The other is on Second Avenue on the Upper East Side. The Hell’s Kitchen version was a bit loud, both in volume and décor. The dining room is dominated by a giant photograph of Memphis-born Elvis Presley wearing boxing gloves, an apparent reference to lyrics from Presley’s hit song “Hi-Heel Sneakers,” which advise some to “wear some boxing gloves in case some fool might want to start a fight.”
Timberlake, also a native of Memphis, has obviously influenced the menu. Judging from the number of items that are deep fried, Elvis himself may have had a hand in conceiving the cuisine. I had the King’s Combo, consisting of a plate full of Memphis-style, dry-rubbed spare ribs, sliced brisket and fried chicken. I chose mac & cheese and sweet potato fries as my sides.

The spare ribs were very, very good. A tad salty, but not annoyingly so. For those who recoil at the taste of sodium, remember there are pills for high blood pressure nowadays. Besides, it seems silly to complain about increased hypertension when you’re gnawing through a half-rack of ribs. I don’t eat like this every day, and meals like this may be even scarcer once I move to the Persian Gulf. I hope not, because these were some tasty ribs. And that’s coming from someone who doesn’t normally like dry rub ribs.
There was less enthusiasm for the remaining selections on the plate. The brisket was a bit gray and tasteless, requiring healthy doses from one of three barbecue sauces provided at each table. As for the fried chicken, I don’t have an opinion because I was so full from the ribs that I had the rest of the meal wrapped up in order to be taken home – the ribs were that good, and that plentiful. I’ll be yearning for this place when I tire of the hummus and falafel of my future home.

Jessica

My selection at Southern Hospitality was less regal than Mark’s King’s Combo platter but no less tasty. The sliced smoked brisket sandwich was flavorful, topped with onions and jalapenos to give it a nice kick. It came with a creamy cheese sauce and beef stock on the side, plus fries and slaw. Needless to say, I didn’t require a to-go box.

Southern Hospitality’s website touts its Memphis Style BBQ technique, a style of barbeque that I previously wasn’t very familiar with. This was a welcome introduction. The flashy Elvis-laden decor gave the place a festive vibe and, with a window seat in the corner, we had a good view of the happenings on 9th Avenue. Per Mark’s post, this section of town no longer lives up to its daunting name but there are still plenty of interesting characters. For those who like dive bars, there are a number of them in the area that are worth checking out before or after a Southern Hospitality feast. Rudy’s, for one, is also on 9th Ave near 44th Street: it has cheap beer, free hot dogs and a welcoming pig statue perched out front. As the picture below illustrates, you can’t miss it.

This was a bittersweet excursion, as it was the last before Mark’s departure for the Middle East. Hopefully, this savory send-off will keep the barbeque cravings at bay until his next visit home.

Belgian Cafe, Abu Dhabi

This is about as far away from local cuisine as you can get, but it was a wonderful meal nonetheless. Located on the lower level of the Intercontinental Hotel in Abu Dhabi is the Belgian Cafe, home to mussels, cream sauces, cheese -- but no barbecue. I had raw salmon, beautiful, succulent ribbons of fresh fish seasoned in vinegar and mild spices, this would rival the best sashimi in Manhattan or Tokyo. It was also the first place in Abu Dhabi I'd found to serve Hoegaarden, the classic Belgian wheat beer and my favorite summertime brew.
I'm 21 days into my new life here in the Persian Gulf, and perhaps it was homesickness for a western meal, but I thoroughly enjoyed this evening. The three large Hoegaardens didn't hurt.
My dinner companion also added to the evening. I dined with Tom O'Hara, an upbeat, friendly, occasionally loud Irish-American from Maple Shade, New Jersey who makes a point of welcoming newbies to The National. There are fewer than ten Americans at The National, and we make a point of waving the stars and stripes and letting loose whenever we get together.

Here's a picture of Tom enjoying his chicken wings, fries and mayonnaise (he asked for ketchup).
Granted, I wrote this immediately upon my return from dinner, so I may have to come back and edit this. But suffice to say this was a wonderful meal shared with a great dinner companion. It was also the first consumption of alcohol since my arrival. Whoever said that booze improves the writing was incorrect. Apologies to Hemingway and the Babyshambles guy.

Smoothies during Ramadan

August 8, 2011

No barbecue yet, but I was introduced to a great juice bar in midtown Abu Dhabi last night (I'm still figuring out the neighborhood names), where I ordered what the menu calls a "cocktail."
My concoction is pictured above. Also in the photo are Saeed, a writer from Eritrea, and Sara, a designer from Ohio. The hands of Hailey, a public relations executive from London, and Carlos, a landscape architect from Mexico, are also visible in the foreground.
Sara and Hailey had the guacamole smoothie and Carlos went with grape. Saeed decided on the cocktail.
No booze in any of these beverages, especially during Ramadan, but just about everything else: papaya, guacamole, banana, pineapple, watermelon and several other fruits I didn't recognize or couldn't pronounce. The verdict: smoothest, thickest fruit shake I've ever had. The density of the Imperial pint smoothie took a few sips to get used to, but I decided I loved it.

Abu Dhabi, home of the Butt Sweet House

It took a 15-hour flight, a 2-hour layover in Doha, Qatar, a one-hour wait at the airport for my work visa and a multi-hour search for my hotel, but I finally made it safely to my new home in Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates.
As it turns out, my timing is a bit suspect. August is the hottest time of the year in Abu Dhabi, and it’s also the start of Ramadan. During the holy Muslim holiday of Ramadan, no one, no matter what your religion, can eat, smoke, drink or chew gum in public from sunup until sundown. My office has a separate room with the glass doors papered over for non-Muslims to eat lunch and dinner out of sight. During Ramadan, you can’t even have a bottle of water or a cup of coffee at your desk, so this room is a basic necessity.
Considering this is virtually a pork-free region, Ramadan makes it even harder to sample barbecue. But hey, I love a challenge, and will find something to write about in this strange, hot, beautiful country.
The weather regularly reaches 115 degrees Fahrenheit (that’s 64 Celsius to those in the Middle East, Europe and most of the rest of the world), so it’s been difficult to walk around and explore. I’ve discovered most people just go from one air-conditioned spot to another during this time of year, and I’ve followed suit.
But I happened upon an interesting spot while looking for a place to exchange some American greenbacks for UAE dirhams. The photo above pretty much says it all – Butt Sweet House. Not sure this has anything to do with barbecue, but I told you I’d find something to write about. Note that this establishment even has a logo/monogram with the letters B, S and H artfully arranged. If these guys sell T-shirts, I’m definitely down. Unfortunately it was closed when I visited there around noon today due to the religious holiday. I was told they would reopen at about 4 p.m. After sunset, most stores and restaurants will not close until about 3 a.m. in observance of Ramadan. Meals during this time are only eaten after sunset and before sunrise.
Since I happen to work evenings, that makes it pretty easy for me to get dinner late, even at midnight. All the restaurants are busy until the wee hours of the morning, when they serve very early breakfast, but not after the sun comes up.
I am definitely not in Manhattan anymore. So far, Abu Dhabi has been a fascinating place.