the filling station

I've lived in the city for over two years now and I have still not yet made it to Shake Shack. I'm hiding my face behind my hands like a coward as I type this as I realize this is comparable to committing some sort of horrid crime to which I have no excuse for. I just simply haven't had the opportunity, nor made that much effort to attempt the daunting lines. And to be honest, I try and keep my burger intake to a minimum. If I can help it.

So this Sunday, after dragging my once again sick behind back to Connecticut for some R&R and health rejuvenation from Mom, we stopped by the Filling Station: New Canaan's new burger joint that boasts locally grown organic beef and nitrate free hot dogs. If that's something you're looking out for and/or is important. To me? A burger is a burger is a burger. Well, most of the time.

I entered slightly skeptical (but come on, it's what I do). Colds always leave me with a less than hungry appetite and I was certainly not craving a burger. But we crammed ourselves into the tiny place and patiently waited in line. Two cheeseburgers, one fry, and two fountain sodas later, we plopped down in our seats.

Again, I've never indulged in the glorious Shake Shack burger but I imagine the experience is quite similar: a ridiculously soft potato bun (a must for any burger as far as I'm concerned), lightly pressed on a flat top then piled with a thin patty (surprisingly cooked a perfect medium) topped with yellow American, lettuce, tomato, onion, and "special sauce." The kid behind the counter told me it was a Chipotle sauce, but there wasn't a hint of any smokey spiciness in there to be found. I'm convinced he was mistaken.

Regardless, this burger was near perfection. It should be noted that I'm a thin patty burger lover. I'll push a colossal burger aside, it's just not my scene. But The Filling Station's attempt at this comfort food classic was beyond admirable. Crinkle fries too, are sadly not my preferred way to indulge in twice fried carbohydrates, but to be honest, I'm happy to leave those behind in favor of finishing my entire cheeseburger. Because with the whole "I'm not that hungry" thing, I didn't expect to get through half of this bad boy.

Alas, I didn't leave a crumb.

If you're in the area, and in the mood for a slightly sinful little experience, pop by The Filling Station. If you can squeeze yourself in.

The Filling Station
19 South Ave.
New Canaan, CT

meet my dad

The following perfectly represents my Dad's personality and philosophy on life: keep it simple. He's a classic, no frills kinda guy and when I popped into town on Sunday to celebrate his Birthday and offered to take him to dinner, his response, to which I was not the least bit surprised, "Well, you haven't been to the diner yet, so we could do that..."

My Dad is a diner man. Always has been, always will. And although I fought it as a little kid, I have now grown to love a good diner. And now have what most would call extraordinarily high expectations when it comes to diner fare.

And so, to the New Canaan Diner we went to celebrate the Pop's big day.

There are three things which I judge a diner on: their Eggs Benedict, their Gyro, and their fountain soda. If that comes as a surprise, then I'd venture as far as to say that you haven't been to enough good diners in your lifetime. But that's my reference point. The new New Canaan Diner is from the same owners of the famed Post Road Diner in Norwalk, CT (holler PRD's all my NCHS'ers) so I knew that ordering a Gyro was not only a safe bet, but a welcomed indulgence. Dad went for the open-faced meatloaf sandwich. And their fountain soda (read: serious Diet Coke fountain soda girl)? Served in a HUGE Coca-Cola glass, perfect syrup to soda water ratio, and ice cubes you only dream of. Happy Birthday, Doug.

And to draw an even clearer picture of my not-so Old Man, dessert was a margarita at Tequila Mockingbird. The only Mexican joint and watering hole in town and right next door to the diner. And we sipped, and talked, and I sought advice, and we laughed and it was the kind of night that makes you happy and blessed to have family that's always only an hour train ride away.

Happy Birthday, Dad. Love, this little one.

meli melo

Yes, it's another ham and cornichons baguette sandwich. Sorry for the redundancy. But for what it's worth, I find these sandwiches come far and few between so any opportunity I get to pounce on one, well, I pounce. And this past Sunday was no different.

Meli Melo is one of my favorite spots in Fairfield County. A tiny little crèperie, soup, salad, and sandwich spot on Greenwich, CT's Greenwich Ave. It's as authentically French as anything you're going to find on this side of the Atlantic and whenever we're in the area, it's a given that we have to pop in. Hungry or otherwise.

A crispy baguette (you know, the kind that leaves you with somewhat welcomed cuts on the roof of your mouth) with one side smeared with sweet butter, the other with serious dijon mustard, thinly sliced country ham, cornichons, and lightly dressed baby greens. There's not a single element of this sandwich that needs tweeking. Perfect every time.

Mom really gilded the lily with the beurre et sucre (butter and sugar for you non-francofiles) crepe for dessert. Quite frankly, it's the only way I like to eat my crepes. Totally simple but unabashedly delicious.

I think it's starting to become increasingly obvious: I think I aspire to be a lady who lunches. Must figure out how to somehow monetize on that concept.

Suggestions welcome.

Meli Melo

362 Greenwich Ave., Greenwich, CT

little tokyo, reviewed

I'm not sure how many more times I can mention Little Tokyo (like here and here) without getting an, "ENOUGH!" from any of you, but since I'm still managing to get away with it, I will continue my rant.

I'm often faced with the question, "What's the best restaurant you've ever been to?" And to be honest, I don't think it's that fair of an inquiry. I always, always follow up the question with, "Give me a genre or area," because I need to hone down my options. Or at least attempt to. This city almost has too many dining out options. So much hype. So many critics. It's tough to come across a hidden gem at this point. Nearly everything has already been exposed.
And that's where my all time, favorite restaurant comes into play: Little Tokyo. Located in the most unassuming of shopping center strips in Norwalk, CT, lives one of my favorite places on Earth. Swanky? No. Elegant? Well, no. Trendy? Depends who you're talking to. Good? Not a thesaurus in this world could come up with enough synonyms to describe the goodness, no, greatness, going on at this celestial place.

Henry, the charming and charismatic main man of Little Tokyo, travels bright and early to Queens every morning to hand select his seafood. His selection is unrivaled. Pristine. Nothing shy of orgasmic.

There's no ordering that goes on. Just take a seat, have a ridiculously generous glass of white wine be set in front of you (I'm talking your mouth has to meet the glass while sitting on the table because any attempt to lift the glass would result in a spill. My kinda pour.) and get ready to have your mind blown by food unlike anything you've ever experienced.

A typical night at Little Tokyo starts off with a plate of a spicy crab salad with pieces of yellowtail sashimi that dance around the edge of the plate, delicately splashed with ponzu and a sprinkling of shaved scallions. The Pavlovian response I have to this dish alone is nearly obscene. I'm sitting here, salivating just at the thought.

If I'm at the table, Henry knows I can't leave without an oyster or two. Kumamotos, practically gorgeously swollen, dressed with ponzo, scallion, and a speck of sriracha. Coming from a girl who typically just goes with a squeeze of fresh lemon, it's almost hard for me to have them any other way than Henry's way. The pairing is sublime.

Next comes an assortment of sushi and sashimi. Whatever Henry deems the best of the night. Row after row of jem-like tuna, glistening salmon, opal-esque yellowtail, gargantuan chunks of shelled king crab. A love roll, my personal favorite, filled with spicy tuna and avocado and topped with a spicy crab salad. The variety and quality is unparalleled. I fear when the plates are nearing empty status. A slight wave of panic comes over me. Until, that is, I realized what is to come next.Henry's Lobster. Whole lobsters chopped into chunks and thrown quickly into a fiery wok with sticks of ginger, slivered scallions, and a few other ingredients that are all part of his secret recipe. Everyone at the table nearly pulls a Daryl Hannah in Splash and attempts to eat the shell. The sauce. The freaking sauce that coats this lobster has the potential to bring tears to your eyes. Beyond simple, as it should be, but overwhelmingly interesting and divine.There's a number of other factors that make Little Tokyo my all time favorite restaurant that might end up on someone else's list as negatives. The ambiance may not be for all (hello, restaurant snobs) but to us, it's like an extension of our home. We're comfortable there. Taken care of. At ease. Nancy, our main girl and waitress, greets us with hugs, lights up when we're all in town. It's a beyond warm feeling that will outshine ambiance any day. You can have your low lit, trendy sushi bar with mediocre food. I don't want it.

I've found all I'll ever need at Little Tokyo.

SERVICE: 25

FOOD: 25

LOOK: 19

VIBE: 24

FINAL GRADE: 93

swedish lunch for three

Tucked into a side street in South Norwalk, CT, and you'll find Scandia Food & Gifts. A tiny little shop filled with all things Scandinavian. From herring to lingonberries, gingersnaps to Santa Lucia crowns, you'll find it all here.

Recently, they started serving lunch and we couldn't be happier with the addition. The menu consists of a selection of open-faced sandwiches and a couple of other various Swedish treats and I love to accompany whatever it is I order with one of their black currant sparkling drinks. This time around, we had the Swedish meatballs sandwich with beet salad, a salami and cucumber sandwich, and a Swedish hot dog (so not your average dog; snappiest casing, uber flavorful spice combination).

The room is warm, cozy, and inviting and so is the food. A great little escape in the most unassuming of neighborhoods, I urge any and all of you in the area to make an afternoon of it.

Skol!

Scandia Food & Gifts

30 High St., Norwalk, CT