Tribeca Delicacies

The period that is mid-April to June is an oddly conflicting time—with a plethora of end-of-semester struggles and allergies lurking everywhere, it’s safe to say that summer vacation will never seem so close, yet so far away.

However, the end of spring does bring relief, despite its obvious shortcomings. Shifting attention away from sidewalks cluttered with dirtied snow and to the fantastic restaurants serving some good ol’ comida, an impending summer is, to say the least, a true embodiment of why “food is man’s dearest friend.”
Now, it’s not to say that McDonald’s and Dunkin’ Donuts do not deserve such eminence. But if you’re feeling ambitious enough and bearing the itch for something more than the classics, come join us on the hunt for the Hell’s Kitchens of Tribeca! There is a reason why Taylor Swift herself continues to call this Triangle Below Canal Street home, after all…

Hank’s Juicy Beef:

84 Chambers Street
Average Price: $15 with tax

Originally founded with the intent of being a beef sandwich shop, Hank’s Juicy Beef sports sparse furnishing on the outside, with the focus on a cartoonish, eye-catching font displaying the store name and signature items.

Going in, you are suddenly immersed in Justin Timberlake-style music as well as a dazzling collection of soccer trophies. Feel at home yet? Well, that is exactly the kind of atmosphere that this single-family restaurant had hoped to create—as though you were part of a small, closely knit community enjoying a refuge of self-effacement from within the bustling city heart.

Even on the inside, nothing appears to be particularly extravagant; from the plain wooden tables to the dimly lit ceilings to the black-and-white photographs of soccer players, Hank’s Juicy Beef’s modesty contrasts immensely with the stereotypical expectations of a restaurant in Manhattan.
One thing remains the same, however. You are suddenly reminded of New York City’s luxurious reputation upon reading the menu prices, which are around $10 to $15 per item with tax. Though it’s not your typical Halal cart selling one-dollar hot dogs, the food definitely makes up for it. Their signature item, Hank’s Juicy Beef (no creativity here), features a crispy, freshly baked French roll burgeoning with slow-roasted black Angus beef and a generous topping of pickled vegetables straight from the garden. Upon first glance, it seems like just another deli sandwich, but Hank added his own unique twist over 40 years ago when he first founded his company by thoroughly marinating the beef in Italian herbs—namely parsley, basil, bay leaf, oregano, and sage.

The sour relish and savory effects of the herbs complement the tenderness of traditional Chicago-style pot roast to produce a unique blend of flavors that does not overpower the senses despite its intensity. Unfortunately, the large number of ingredients present calls for typically disorganized plating, especially under rushed settings. Distinguishing each component becomes difficult with a sloppy presentation, which may be an inconvenience to those who approach their food by savoring each individual element.

At the end of the day, Hank’s Juicy Beef truly sets itself apart from the melange of other sandwich shops in Tribeca through its incorporation of both traditional and unconventional techniques as well as a unique emphasis on modesty—a value that even the most attentive of us can forget in today’s fast-paced society.

Bubby’s

120 Hudson Street
Average Price: $20-25 with tax and tip

Bubby’s is not your traditional NYC restaurant; on the outside, it resembles more of a private home with its mini-lawn, brightly painted wooden benches, and a smaller-than-life-size sculpture of a cow. But wait—the peculiarity doesn’t end here. Inside, you see what seems to be the hybrid of a dining hall and living room. The walls are covered with abstract, surreal paintings; the tables are embellished with flowers; and the shelves are lined with plastered...ducks?

It is then that customers finally understand the meaning of their motto: “We welcome each and every person as though they are guests in our home.”
As I scanned the menu, I realized that several items were not as “American” as the storefront of the restaurant had claimed to be, notably featuring ricotta salata (Italian cheese) and huevos rancheros (Mexican-style eggs in salsa).

My waiter later explained to me that there is so much more to American cuisine than Cobb, pastrami Reuben, and hamburgers. Bubby’s, though originally a pie shop, is unique from other restaurants in that its dishes encompass all the cultures that make the nation what it is today, including Mexican and even Chinese!

While waiting for my order of spring pea soup and flaky buttermilk biscuits, I couldn’t help but admire the sense of tranquility that prevailed everywhere. Bluegrass music hummed in the background, and I was completely sheltered from the commotion outside.

My food arrived promptly, and I’d add, with rather elegant plating. The biscuits were positioned neatly in a circle, served with butter and jam, and fresh mint leaves protruded from the soup’s surface.

Biting into a biscuit, I immediately picked up on the odd creaminess and fragility of its exterior. The texture was more of a thick wrap than that of a traditional biscuit, though it still supported a slight crunch on the top. Hate dry pastry? No worries, simply apply butter on the edges to soften it up.

As someone who doesn’t particularly enjoy biscuits, however, I thought that the delicious homemade jam was the true hero of the dish. It was unlike any other jam I’ve tasted, seemingly combining the smoothness of apricot jelly with the sweetness of grape jam to achieve a light, yet fulfilling result.

The spring pea soup was a great complement to the biscuits; its flavors, though bold, did not overpower the jam, and the presence of greens like asparagus added a dash of color and liveliness to the plate. The incorporation of sweet peas, spicy mint, and a garlicky cream to the savory blend of Italian spices furthermore allowed the diner to approach the soup from various angles, depending on their culinary preferences, contributing to a degree of versatility.

Not to mention, a huge pet peeve of mine is ordering soup at a restaurant and getting a thick stew instead, but Bubby’s pulled through with the perfect texture—thin, silky, and satisfyingly rutty, with the intense aftertaste of rich onion lingering in one’s mouth even after finishing the dish.

Overall, Bubby’s prices may be high, but its calm atmosphere and many food options are even more top-notch, truly bringing to the melting pot of the world a little bit of everything.

Takahachi:

145 Duane Street
Average Price: $20-30 with tax and tip

Your go-to sushi restaurant, Takahachi is the true embodiment of a portal; the dimly lit and unadorned interior reflect the minimalist characteristics of Japanese architecture and initially appear to be a stark contrast from not only the bright, bustling streets outside, but also from the extravagance of traditional American culture.

When I asked my waitress why everything felt so “empty,” she responded by saying that the mission of Takahachi is to provide a modest, hustled approach to non-Western cuisine, something that is unfortunately perceived as “out of place” by today’s generation. I took a glance around me; though most other customers came in groups, talking was rather limited, and the focus seemed to be on food, not people.

The menu, however, was a completely different situation. With dish names like “Taxi Driver,” “Little Buddha,” and “Spider Woman,” it brought an unexpected wave of bold creativity that is otherwise rather lacking in the restaurant. In fact, I decided to order the “Anaconda” maki simply because its name sounded the coolest.

The wait was too long for the typical, impatient New Yorker, but one can kill time by assembling the sauce, which in many cases can make or break a sushi meal. I went with a blend of fresh parsley, chili oil, soy sauce, and sesame paste to create intensity and counter the light, subdued flavors that maki possesses.

When the waitress finally returned and set my Anaconda roll on the beautifully polished lacquer table, I immediately noticed its incredible presentation. Clean-cut shrimp tempura, along with thin slices of eel and avocado, were tucked away comfortably into the surrounding grains of rice, with the seaweed completely wrapping around the circumference of each individual piece cut from the roll. The spectrum of colors underneath the dim light drew my attention away from the dark, misty atmosphere, making me forget about the many others who shared the restaurant space with me.

The taste was just as fulfilling as it looked. Crunchy fried shrimp combined with the silkiness of Unagi (eel covered in tare sauce) and the creaminess of the avocado to produce a wide array of textures, almost forcing me to “live in the moment.” Though the flavors of the roll itself were not exactly bold as expected, the diverse complexity that they allowed for accentuated the sauce’s complexity to another level and introduced the perfect acidity. Even the rice isn’t one that you can commonly find in a local supermarket, as it is damp and appears to be lightly seasoned with rice vinegar.

But perhaps the best part of this dining experience was that being a solo diner, I was given a seat near the front room where I could observe Takahachi chefs at work. I was reassured knowing how carefully each ingredient was handled and then assembled to become something greater. The waitress was right. Even during the busy lunch hours, the chefs remained calm, pursuing their tasks with minimal distraction and truly pouring their utmost dedication into an unrivaled process of culinary creation in New York City.