Nobu Fifty Seven
"How do you feel about celebrating Christmas Eve with a Gentile?"
That's what I asked my Jewish co-worker when he visited New York for the holidays. The company I used to work for called on RaiderofChiTown to cover the Christmas shift, and lucky me, I got to spend Christmas Eve after work with a friend.
It was unheard of to get holidays off at my previous job, and that's one of the reasons I was excited to leave it. In mid-November, I made a deal with the devil, or our scheduler. He told me if I worked Christmas Eve I could have every holiday off, including Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. People who've worked in the industry for ten years don't get those days off. People who run the industry rarely get those days off. I was thrilled to offer my barely-paid services on Christmas Eve, and even more thrilled when I heard RaiderofChiTown would be coming to town.
Like many friends I've met through work, including Hawkeye, I knew RaiderofChiTown first through instant messaging. Only, I had the advantage of knowing what he looked like. He's on air, I am behind the air. Sunday night I caught him wandering through the newsroom and yelled "Raider!" He turned, smiled, and shouted right back, "It must be Mona!" We gabbed for the few remaining minutes of my shift, then headed out.
When Raider asked me where I wanted to eat, I only had one idea in mind. Sushi. For some reason, though I couldn't tell you why, I had it in my head that Christmas Eve tradition in my family involved no meat. When I asked friends if this was normal or if I was imagining things, they looked at me like I was crazy.
"It's not Lent, M-."
"Yes, but for some reason my family doesn't eat meat on Christmas Eve, I swear."
"No, M-. You're dyslexic. You're confusing Advent and Lent."
Regardless, we agreed on sushi. When I asked Raider to choose between the plethora of mediocre sushi places in midtown or an excellent sushi place in midtown, guess which one he picked. I'd been to Nobu Fifty Seven before with Carebear and her husband, but it was only for a snack. Thank goodness for Christmas Eve and Raider because I got to go for much more than a snack.
(And as it turns out, I'm not dyslexic. After consulting my parents, avoiding meat on Christmas Eve is an Italian tradition we uphold.)
From the moment you walk into Nobu's world, your senses are on high alert. You're salivating because you can't wait for what you're about to start tasting and your eyes can't keep up with all the beautiful things they're spotting. From the ceiling, beautiful pearl, shell-like strings dangled, like an elegant wind chime. The wall behind the bar that led upstairs to the dining area is made up of what looks like barrel drums wrapped in cloth with Japanese characters. The designer David Rockwell can come over and do my apartment any time. I'll just make sure to get rid of the old Budweiser noren first.
Raider and I walked into Nobu and, to our surprise, we didn't have to wait a minute for a table. We debated if we wanted to sit in the big bar downstairs or at a table upstairs and simultaneously we said, "What the heck, it's Christmas Eve! Let's get a table."
If Raider was talking to me as we walked upstairs, I can't recall. I was in my own world of wonder at the beautiful room around me. The hostess brought us right to the sushi bar and it was there we ooh-ed, chewed, and aah-ed the rest of the night. I've only sat at the sushi bar a couple of times before and to be doing it at Nobu, one of the world's meccas of sushi, felt pretty special.
Our waiter brought us a couple of beers and sake upon request. Sake never tasted so good. It took some serious self-control to not do a sake bomb on my last night before vacation; but Raider is a respectable adult, married with two children, and I didn't want to rub it in his face I'm still a crazy twenty-something. If I blew it, he'd never want to hang out again, even if I was the only one left in the newsroom on Christmas Eve.
Our empty stomachs were getting louder and louder with impatience so it was time to focus on the menu. The first thing I remember ordering with Carebear was the rock tempura shrimp. When I recognized it on the menu I blurted, "Rock tempura!" like I'd just learned to read. Raider was curious what my outburst was all about so we ordered the shrimp right away.
The shrimp is coated in a light batter and an orange sweet and spicy sauce (not to be confused with its Chinese cousin), making for crunchy balls of shrimp-tastic goodness. The bite-size pieces sit on a bed of lettuce that you inevitably put away because the lettuce is drenched in the citrus-y ponzu. Raider and I gobbled everything up with our chopsticks. Chopsticks turned into swords, and lettuce and shrimp went flying. We ordered another round of beer from our server, but when he saw the shrimp wars, I think he wanted to cut us off.
For our second hot dish we ordered the black cod with miso. I've never had a dish look more simple, plain, and empty pack so much punch. This small and delicate fish sat all by its lonesome on a plate, but it was not to be underestimated. Every hot bite was like sweet butter. All I could think of was Mike Myers as Linda Richman on "Coffee Talk," gushing about Barbra with his hands over his chest, "It's like buh-tuh." I'll keep eating, while you talk amongst yourselves.
Our first two dishes blew us out of the water. And we stayed there until we finished our last bite of assorted sushi: spicy tuna, eel, and soft-shell crab, to name a few. The sushi highlight for me was the tobiko with a raw quail egg. We each tried one. Raider was a pro. I, on the other hand, hadn't put raw egg in my mouth since my parents lived in Tokyo, and my Dad took me to an authentic Japanese restaurant in my Mom's place (she can't stomach sushi). I picked up the big roll with my chopsticks in one hand while my left hand was ready to catch the mess.
"You only get one bite!" said Raider.
"Great, here goes nothing!"
I tasted the egg more than anything. It was a bizarre mixture, and I prefer spicy tuna rolls, but at least I got the chance to try something new.
Raider has since returned to Chitown, and sadly we no longer work together. But if I'm lucky, Hawkeye and I will see him on our weekend trip to Chicago. It's going to be one brrrrrrrrrrisk weekend! Any tips on what to do, eat, and see in Chicago are welcome. If all goes as planned, I will get the chance to treat Raider to a good meal, a few good beers, and some good company, like he so generously treated me to on my Christmas Eve. Thank you, Raider, and see you soon.
That's what I asked my Jewish co-worker when he visited New York for the holidays. The company I used to work for called on RaiderofChiTown to cover the Christmas shift, and lucky me, I got to spend Christmas Eve after work with a friend.
It was unheard of to get holidays off at my previous job, and that's one of the reasons I was excited to leave it. In mid-November, I made a deal with the devil, or our scheduler. He told me if I worked Christmas Eve I could have every holiday off, including Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. People who've worked in the industry for ten years don't get those days off. People who run the industry rarely get those days off. I was thrilled to offer my barely-paid services on Christmas Eve, and even more thrilled when I heard RaiderofChiTown would be coming to town.
Like many friends I've met through work, including Hawkeye, I knew RaiderofChiTown first through instant messaging. Only, I had the advantage of knowing what he looked like. He's on air, I am behind the air. Sunday night I caught him wandering through the newsroom and yelled "Raider!" He turned, smiled, and shouted right back, "It must be Mona!" We gabbed for the few remaining minutes of my shift, then headed out.
When Raider asked me where I wanted to eat, I only had one idea in mind. Sushi. For some reason, though I couldn't tell you why, I had it in my head that Christmas Eve tradition in my family involved no meat. When I asked friends if this was normal or if I was imagining things, they looked at me like I was crazy.
"It's not Lent, M-."
"Yes, but for some reason my family doesn't eat meat on Christmas Eve, I swear."
"No, M-. You're dyslexic. You're confusing Advent and Lent."
Regardless, we agreed on sushi. When I asked Raider to choose between the plethora of mediocre sushi places in midtown or an excellent sushi place in midtown, guess which one he picked. I'd been to Nobu Fifty Seven before with Carebear and her husband, but it was only for a snack. Thank goodness for Christmas Eve and Raider because I got to go for much more than a snack.
(And as it turns out, I'm not dyslexic. After consulting my parents, avoiding meat on Christmas Eve is an Italian tradition we uphold.)
From the moment you walk into Nobu's world, your senses are on high alert. You're salivating because you can't wait for what you're about to start tasting and your eyes can't keep up with all the beautiful things they're spotting. From the ceiling, beautiful pearl, shell-like strings dangled, like an elegant wind chime. The wall behind the bar that led upstairs to the dining area is made up of what looks like barrel drums wrapped in cloth with Japanese characters. The designer David Rockwell can come over and do my apartment any time. I'll just make sure to get rid of the old Budweiser noren first.
Raider and I walked into Nobu and, to our surprise, we didn't have to wait a minute for a table. We debated if we wanted to sit in the big bar downstairs or at a table upstairs and simultaneously we said, "What the heck, it's Christmas Eve! Let's get a table."
If Raider was talking to me as we walked upstairs, I can't recall. I was in my own world of wonder at the beautiful room around me. The hostess brought us right to the sushi bar and it was there we ooh-ed, chewed, and aah-ed the rest of the night. I've only sat at the sushi bar a couple of times before and to be doing it at Nobu, one of the world's meccas of sushi, felt pretty special.
Our waiter brought us a couple of beers and sake upon request. Sake never tasted so good. It took some serious self-control to not do a sake bomb on my last night before vacation; but Raider is a respectable adult, married with two children, and I didn't want to rub it in his face I'm still a crazy twenty-something. If I blew it, he'd never want to hang out again, even if I was the only one left in the newsroom on Christmas Eve.
Our empty stomachs were getting louder and louder with impatience so it was time to focus on the menu. The first thing I remember ordering with Carebear was the rock tempura shrimp. When I recognized it on the menu I blurted, "Rock tempura!" like I'd just learned to read. Raider was curious what my outburst was all about so we ordered the shrimp right away.
The shrimp is coated in a light batter and an orange sweet and spicy sauce (not to be confused with its Chinese cousin), making for crunchy balls of shrimp-tastic goodness. The bite-size pieces sit on a bed of lettuce that you inevitably put away because the lettuce is drenched in the citrus-y ponzu. Raider and I gobbled everything up with our chopsticks. Chopsticks turned into swords, and lettuce and shrimp went flying. We ordered another round of beer from our server, but when he saw the shrimp wars, I think he wanted to cut us off.
For our second hot dish we ordered the black cod with miso. I've never had a dish look more simple, plain, and empty pack so much punch. This small and delicate fish sat all by its lonesome on a plate, but it was not to be underestimated. Every hot bite was like sweet butter. All I could think of was Mike Myers as Linda Richman on "Coffee Talk," gushing about Barbra with his hands over his chest, "It's like buh-tuh." I'll keep eating, while you talk amongst yourselves.
Our first two dishes blew us out of the water. And we stayed there until we finished our last bite of assorted sushi: spicy tuna, eel, and soft-shell crab, to name a few. The sushi highlight for me was the tobiko with a raw quail egg. We each tried one. Raider was a pro. I, on the other hand, hadn't put raw egg in my mouth since my parents lived in Tokyo, and my Dad took me to an authentic Japanese restaurant in my Mom's place (she can't stomach sushi). I picked up the big roll with my chopsticks in one hand while my left hand was ready to catch the mess.
"You only get one bite!" said Raider.
"Great, here goes nothing!"
I tasted the egg more than anything. It was a bizarre mixture, and I prefer spicy tuna rolls, but at least I got the chance to try something new.
Raider has since returned to Chitown, and sadly we no longer work together. But if I'm lucky, Hawkeye and I will see him on our weekend trip to Chicago. It's going to be one brrrrrrrrrrisk weekend! Any tips on what to do, eat, and see in Chicago are welcome. If all goes as planned, I will get the chance to treat Raider to a good meal, a few good beers, and some good company, like he so generously treated me to on my Christmas Eve. Thank you, Raider, and see you soon.
40 West 57 Street
212.757.3000
posted by Mona at 8:50 AM
6 Comments:
Sounds deee-lish! Reminds me to tempura something this weekend! Not sure if I'll go for raw quail eggs, I'll leave them until I visit New York! ;-)
Ooh, that sounds divine! I love rock shrimp tempura in general and love Morimoto's take on it even more... Nobu's sounds fantastic too!
As for Chicago... a group of friends and I did Chicago specifically for foodie reasons last year. We didn't hit MK or Charlie Trotters, or any pizza, or steakhouses (off the top of my head, those are the things Chicago is known for) but I did document all the other places we did.
http://feistyfoodie.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html Let me know where you decide to go! :)
Err... scroll down for Chicago, I just linked you to the page for April because that's when we went, whoops. :)
naz, can't wait to hear what you come up with for this weekend.
yvo, thanks so much! can't wait to read about your travels to chicago! thanks for the link, that's awesome.
raw quail eggs! very open minded of you, im impressed :) sounds like a lovely time was had.. i wondered about the no meat on xmas thing too because my step-mother is from Turin and she always makes this olive oil anchovy garlic dish with crusty bread for xmas breakfast. Seems it's common practice to avoid meat throughout Italy :) Fascinating to hear these things carry on through decades of Immigrations too!
I always attract meat. Just this evening I has a two inch thick pork chop.
oh wait, you said avoid...
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