Wing King Sings

During the Taste of the Ridge, I met Tom Casatelli, the owner of Kettle Black, a restaurant and bar on the corner of 87th and 3rd. About a week ago, I had the privilege of sitting down with him a second time, this time prepared with questions regarding the man and his business. Over the course of the interview, he revealed the origins of his establishment, his favorite Bay Ridge restaurant and the pros of being part of the food scene here.

Q: My understanding is that you went from firefighter to bartender to owner of the kettle Black. How did that come to be?

A: "Actually, I was a bartender before I was a fireman. I started when I was 18. I bounced, then one night, a bartender didn't show up. I was asked to step behind the bar and they liked me. I was in the marines, my friend was a firefighter. He convinced me to take the test. I was #2 on the list. After 9/11, I was in the process of retiring... I was bartending earlier, I always loved it. I just went and did it [opened the Kettle Black]. I took out a home equity loan on my house."

Q: Do you think the investment was worth it?

A: "It was worth it."

Q: Do you still get behind the counter from time to time?

A: "No, I think I've bartended twice. Yeah, I was so busy running the place I couldn't enjoy it."

Q: Do any of your skills from your past professions help with managing the restaurant?

A: "The marine corps, gave me the self confidence necessary. The fire department taught me if you want something, don't wait for it. It could be gone tomorrow."

Q: Do you think there's a balance between restaurant and bar at the Kettle Black?

A: "There's a balance, because I love to cook. I enjoy the challenge. We wanted a fair place where people could eat economically."

Q: Do you feel like the restaurant and bar community in bay Ridge is supportive or competitive?

A: "It's supportive, because when I first opened up, we helped each other. We're all tight, we're all friends. If you nickel and dime in this business, you'll be out of business."

Q: Is there anything you think is a problem?

A: "You can go from the best to the worst in one evening."

Q: What role do you play in deciding what the menu looks like at the Kettle Black?

A: "I pretty much created the original menu. And also the recipes. My committee has changed it since then."

Q: Do you help prepare any of the food?

A: "I don't anymore. I was cooking the chili. The original recipe, we used to cook, me and my brother.It was fun trying to find the right cheese. Everything."

Q: Is there a dish you're particularly fond of?

A: "I'm really proud of all the wings. We wanted to do something different with the wings. We just did the wing competition in green point. We were voted people's choice."

Q: You were at the Taste of the Ridge recently. Do you attend other charity or community events?

A: "I'm on the board [of the Taste of the Ridge]. If you've ever heard of the Bay Ridge Music Festival, I run that. We raised $25,000 last year. We're giving out $100 in gift certificates and beer to charities a week."

Q: If you could give one piece of advice to aspiring restaurateurs in the area, what would it be?

A: "Don't do it unless you want it with every bone in your body. I worked 12 hours a day for two years. It's like a baby."

Q: Is there one thing in particular you enjoy about owning the kettle black more than the rest?

A: "I love the people, the friends I've made. I love seeing repeat customers. People who come in and the waitress brings them their usual before they order."

Q: A Do you have a favorite restaurant or two you like to eat at when you're not at the Kettle Black?

A: "I love Chadwick's and any pizzeria in a five mile radius."

There Was a Haus on The Ridge

How do you tell the difference between a bar and a German restaurant? Bars sell beer, German restaurants just happen to carry enough to be mistaken for a bar. Yes, it's a bad joke. Yes, it's true. Why do you care? Because this is good information to have before you decide if you want to step into Schnitzel Haus, Bay Ridge's premier (and perhaps only) German restaurant.

Schnitzel Haus, on the outside, has all the trademarks of a neighborhood tavern. Wood panels, few windows and some depictions of beer brand names team up to make this place look like just another pub. There's no doubt that this makes it intimidating to some, because not everyone relishes the saloon experience. However, the subtlety of the interior contrasts sharply with the liveliness of the interior. With steins and other German trappings lining the walls, soft lighting and glossy wooden fixtures, the whole place looks a lot more enticing. It carries on the theme set up outside, but accentuates it in ways which mellow out the presence of the bar.

The menu at Schnitzel Haus, like the atmosphere, is entirely German. The entrée titles are written in German, but are accompanied by descriptions which help guide the reader through the experience, without leaving them stranded. Pork, beef, sausages and Schnitzel make up the bulk of the dinner menu here. To accompany the food, Schnitzel Haus boasts a selection of 42 beers, most of which are imported.

To start our lunch, my accomplice and I decided to start with a soup appetizer, the spicy Goulash soup. Tasty would be an unjust word to use to describe it. The meat was tender and cut small enough to flow with the soup. Vegetables, not limited to the conventional potato and carrot, are similarly chopped up and soft. There's no need to chew anything. It was undeniably spicy, but far from inconveniently hot. Rather, it added to the taste and experience of the final product, without making it the focus.

Next came the entrées, starting with the steak sandwich. The cut of meat is likely prepared medium rare or medium well. The browner, hotter meat on the edges gradually gives way to the softer, pink center, a sign that it's sliced after being cooked. It's then served on the bread of your choosing, with mushrooms, cheese and onions as dressing. The combination makes for a diverse combination of consistencies and tastes, with the steak being slightly overpowered by the cheese, but not in an unforgivable way. I'm bold enough to say it's better that way.

The steak sandwich, while delectable by itself, is served with Kartoffelsalat, German potato salad. It looks different because it's prepared with vinegar instead of mayonnaise, sports bacon bits and is served hot rather than cold. The taste, as one would expect, isn't even remotely similar. Bacon and vinegar, contrary to what I had imagined, makes for an amazing combination. They compliment potato, an unlikely ally, very well.

The last entrée was the Chef's grandmother's specialty, Sauerbraten, a sort of pot roast. The meat itself was delicate at the edges and a little tougher toward the center, but still delicious. The sweet and sour gravy accompanying the meat was the real attraction though, with it setting the tone for every savory bite of beef. Apply it generously before forking anything into your mouth for the best result.

It's traditional to serve Sauerbraten with red cabbage and potato dumplings. However, I wonder if these were originally introduced to make the meat itself look better through contrast. While fragrant, the red cabbage has such a robust taste that if you're not well adjusted, you will likely grimace a bit. It's not bad, so much as it's so bold you can't have more than a bite or two at a time. The dumpling, unlike it's fellow side dish, is almost completely tasteless. It's edible with a bit of the sweet and sour gravy, but at that point it just becomes a gelatinous platform for advancing the gravy's agenda (world domination, I reckon).

As the lunch winds down, our dessert is brought in, Apfelstrudel. This isn't your deli's apple strudel, though. That crispy, flaky, mess of a pastry and this confection are only related in name. The shell is soft, but resistant enough to lead to a satisfying chewing experience. Underneath, the apple filling is lukewarm and flavorful. The powdered sugar on top is negligible and wholly unnecessary, but makes for a beautiful presentation. On the side, a scoop of soft vanilla ice cream sits atop some vanilla sauce. Altogether, a powerful presentation and plate.

When all was said and the food was (mostly) consumed, the bill came in. It made its presence felt, known and ultimately, it inspired fear. It read as followed: Gulasch Suppe $5.50, Steak Sandwich $11.00, Sauerbraten $10.50 and Apfelstrudel $6.00. That's $33.00 before tax and tip.

It's important to know that these were also reduced prices. These were the lunch special prices. The steak sandwich isn't featured on the dinner menu and the Sauerbraten is typically $17.00. A normal dinner here is going to be good, awesome even, but also pricey.

There are ways to reduce the bill, such as going in during lunch specials (Noon to 4pm, weekdays) or the working man's happy hour (weekdays 4pm-7pm). The menu is however, watered down a little during these times. So, don't expect to walk in and get Chicken Cordon Bleu or a Fillet Mignon for $10.00. You can however, get a respectable selection at reasonable prices if you go in at the right time. Dropping the dessert and soup will also save a lot of money, anywhere from $10 to $20 depending on the combination.

Service at Schnitzel Haus was good, with helpful servers, expedient food trafficking and no flaws in what we ordered. What I found most pleasing was our server was acquainted with both the food and beer selection and didn't mind answering a few questions about either. If you're anxious about ordering something with a German name, don't be. Ask and be enlightened.

Schnitzel Haus is a fine place to go for a dinner date or a better-than-McDonald's lunch. It's pricey, but the ends justify the means in this case. If you're looking for German food, this is about your only option, but it's better that it be expensive than lack quality. I would recommend it to anyone with the expendable income.

If you're looking for lunch or dinner, Schnitzel Haus is open from 11:30am to 10pm, seven days a week. On Fridays and Saturdays, it's keeps the doors open until 3am. It doesn't do breakfast. Ever. If you want to learn more, you can stroll into their location at 7319 fifth avenue or call 718-836-5600.

Pols Vote for More Pierogi

If you're like me, you may not have polish food very often. In fact, your knowledge of such cuisine may be limited to Mrs. T's frozen goods. I wasn't comfortable with such a ceiling, so I decided that I would open things up a bit by looking for a place in the neighborhood. My search yielded Polonica, a place I had passed on occasion, without ever giving it a second look. To find out if my unobservant tendencies were something to regret, as well as expand my proverbial horizons, I set out to try my first real polish restaurant.

Polonica, next to its neighbors, appears subtle. The dark blue banner and white script don't pop quite as much as the brightly colored signs flanking it. To say it's easy to pass would be an understatement.

Inside, things liven up a little. Yellow animates the walls, despite the soft lighting. Plastic trees bring a little bit of much needed life to the scene. Smells of the kitchen, just a few feet from the eating area, waft in occasionally to revive waiting patrons.

While it's small, this never seems to hamper movement once you sit down. Before then, it can be restricting with heavy luggage. To make things easier on everyone, it's best to pack light. Otherwise, you'll probably get a nasty look when you wade through the cramped space and accidentally hit an old lady.

The menu, to the laymen (like me), is diverse, but particularly intimidating because of the polish dishes retaining their original names. However, the owners include a brief description of each meal to keep it familiar yet authentic. Additionally, the server/chef/owner isn't shy about answering any questions about the food (or pronunciation). Since it's not every day that I get to sample Polish food, I decided to try each course they offered, beginning with soup.

Cucumber soup, as I came to find, really tastes more like pickle than anything else. The sour taste is accented by a mildly creamy texture and chunks of polish cucumber (which is pickled, thus the taste). This soup, while to the liking of my companion, was a little too tangy for me. During my next visit, I will likely try the White Borscht (Żurek) instead.

After the soup came the pierogi. For those unfamiliar, this is akin to a ravioli or dumpling in appearance. They consist of a dough shell and filling. You can stuff it with just about anything. Typically, these are prepared through frying (harder, crunchy) or boiling (softer, not as tough).

Despite a bit of initial indecision, we eventually settled on having potato pierogi, boiled and served with sour cream. I wasn't disappointed by the result. On their own, each dumpling was soft and easy to chew. The filling, which was lightly seasoned with pepper, was fluffy and tasty. A bit of sour cream really made this combination something special though. It adds a welcome bit of texture to each bite that's absent otherwise. Every order is accompanied by caramelized onions. Not only are these delicious, but they are included.

While pierogi are an appetizer, each plate could easily stand on its own as a dish for one. With the ability to personalize them to such a dramatic extent, they have the potential to satisfy even the pickiest eater.

Between the appetizers and main courses, a small plate of vegetables, which was referred to as salad, is provided as part of the cost. There's no cucumbers and tomatoes here, though. This plate is filled with anything but your ordinary fixings. To start with, the most abrupt taste is the sauerkraut. True to its name, it's sour, but without being overwhelming. Next up, minced beets, which were surprisingly sweet. A bit of red cabbage helps keep the taste buds moderated. Sliced carrots and coleslaw complete the quintuplet, preventing things from becoming too unfamiliar. In the center, a slice of lettuce lathered in creamy Italian dressing. A part of me expected it to be something more exotic, but no, it's creamy Italian.

When I got my entree, I was half-surprised, half-intimidated. The stuffed kielbasa, in all of its glory, was a sight to behold. I couldn't even see the sausage at first. Several strips of crispy bacon wrapped tightly around the circumference left nothing but the edges exposed. Cheese, which couldn't be contained seeped out of the middle.

Besides the obvious anatomical jokes a man has to overcome when eating a wiener, I was faced with a problem. How do I even eat this thing? Previous experienced pointed to bread, but I had no such luxury. Left with little other choice, I cut it into segments, based on where the bacon ended. My first bite, was magical. The crunch of the bacon, followed by the utterly satisfying snap of the sausage, pursued by the taste of the cheese made for an amazing clash of textures and sensations. The mustard offered may be a blessing for some, but this dish was ultimately satisfying in its own right. The kasha (buckwheat) on my plate made for a poor combination, but it can be substituted for mashed potatoes.

Pyzy, a plate of potato dumpling, filled with mushrooms made up the last entree of the day. Served with a bit of sauce and fried onions, these dumplings are like a pierog's much softer, gooier cousin. The outside is chewy and reminiscent of gelatin, but firmer. It has a weak taste. However, once you reach the filling, also known as the promised land, there's a revitalization of the senses. If you can get at least a little of the inside with each bite of the outside, it balances to leave the palate satisfied. However, without such discipline, the meal might end up a series of sharp ups and downs.

Polonica doesn't carry typical confections anymore, but they do have something equally satisfying: blintzes. A blintz is a shell, similar to a pancake, but crispier and tougher, rolled around what is typically a fruit filling. It's then re-fried lightly. At the chef's recommendation, I had mine with cherry and cheese. The result wasn't an average, indulgent sweet, but a savory, tough dessert.

The bill was a little higher than I would prefer, but give the quality and quantity of the food, it seems appropriate. The break down: pickle soup $2.75, pierogi $5.25, Stuffed Kielbasa $9.95, Pyzy with Mushrooms $8.80 and Blintzes $6.20. With sales tax of $2.88, the total was $35.88. After the tip, the final tab is $40, if you believe in gratuity.

There are easy ways to save on the bill at Polonica however. So, don't be too intimidated by the cost. We had a lot of food left over. Each dish is so filling that a meal with several courses is superfluous. Dropping the soup and dessert alone lowers the tab by nearly $10. They are, by a wide margin, the least cost effective dishes on my bill. A plate of pierogi can also replace an entree, further reducing the cost for those looking for a cheaper alternative.

Service here also helps justify the bill, to an extent. While the server was incredibly helpful and polite, she was also vacant often. My understanding is that she helps prepare the food, so this is to be expected. However, during peak times this will lead to delays in service. Regardless of how swamped the staff is, they maintain their pleasant disposition, though. With that explanation in mind, the service is good, but the restaurant is understaffed. Expect problems that prop up as a result of that.

For those looking for a small bill, Polonica, even after my tips, won't be the place for you. The quality and quantity do come at a price. However, if you're looking for awesome pierogi or other good, polish food, this is a place you can wisely (and safely) invest in. Don't be surprised if there are delays in service, due to the small staff. If you want to experiment, ask the server for guidance first to avoid disappointment.

Polonica is open six days a week. Tuesday through Thursday, from noon to 10pm and Friday to Sunday, from noon to 10:30. It's closed on Monday. If you want to order take-out, you can call at (718) 630-5805 or take a stroll in at 7214 3rd avenue. Be warned, there's a fee for delivery before 5pm.

Nutella me? Nutella you!

When I was a kid, a slice of pizza was a slice of pizza. There was dough, tomato sauce, some cheese and usually, it was served hot. While that was swell, these days the image and taste of one of Bay Ridge's favorite treats is changing in ways most of us couldn't have seen coming. In the last decade, specialty slices have been making their mark on the food scene. Most of these have been small steps forward. A vodka slice here, a buffalo slice there. Mancini's Pizza however, in its brief three week occupation of 8504 5th avenue (the grave of Mediterranean Pizza), has skipped the crawling in favor of outright sprinting. Their introduction of a Nutella slice will forever change the way Bay Ridge patrons look at what was once, a straight forward (sort of) Italian dish.

My first glimpse of Mancini's was not one I would've remembered. The black and red banner doesn't do much to bring in a customer. My second look though, was what brought me inside. The front of the store, which is made up of glass panes, allows prospective eaters (if they can see passed the plants) to catch a glimpse of what is, in terms of pizzerias, a fairly classy place. The color palette, comprised of mostly earthy hues, is warm and persuasive. Leather cushions line booths that are typically the fare of diners, not local pizza spots. To top it all off, a clay chef, clad in apron and a lopsided hat watches over the happenings.

I will admit that when I first stepped in the door, I didn't know what I was going to order. When I stepped up the sneeze guard, I was tempted by their titillating array of slices. One stood out immediately though, despite how inviting everything looked. I couldn't immediately identify it, but with some help from the friendly woman behind the counter, I came to understand that it was a Nutella slice that caught my eye. The spread and dessert toppings made it mysterious but alluring.

The remainder of the menu was standard of a pizzeria, with sandwiches and pasta flanking slices as staples. With 29 variations of pizza on the menu though, the task of choosing how to proceed was daunting.

My accomplice and I eventually agreed, the scandalous dessert-turned-dinner was the first thing on the list for us to try. However, I wasn't about to go without sampling the foundation of any good pizzeria, the standard slice.

The Nutella slice, once in front of me, was intimidating. With a thick crust that you can't easily fold, I was immediately out of my comfort zone. I was goaded forward though by the prospect of sampling the litany of toppings which complimented the spread. Strawberries, blueberries, marshmallows and bananas were this scandalous slice's pepperoni and mushrooms.

My first bite was framed by a mixture of consistencies. The crunch of hardened dough, one slice of strawberry to keep it resistant and a bit of mushy banana to ease it down. I learned that in this environment, Nutella thrives. With a cast of other sensations to help bring down it's intense, rich flavor, it was perfectly tasty and tolerable, rather than overbearing as I feared it might be. A few less cautious nibbles later, the blueberries and melted marshmallows eased their way into each bite, helping to suppress the spread's boldness, while elevating the overall punch of the dish.

People are varying degrees of picky about how they like their standard slices, but Mancini's has a strong middle ground slice which could keep just about anyone happy. The crust isn't terribly tough. It lends itself to folding well, but not scarfing. The proportion of cheese to sauce was perfect, with neither becoming overwhelming. What I especially liked was that it was soft enough to be easily chewed, without becoming a chore. Nothing is worse than pizza that's reminiscent of a rubber band.

The bill was a little high, given that Mancini's is a pizzeria. With two slices at $2.25 each, two fountain drinks at $1.75 each and the Nutella slice at $3.75, the tab was $11.75. That's not high at first glance, but considering that there are two other similar establishments within a block which provide similar service for slightly less, it's important. The drinks, which are self-serve, are free-for-refill, which helps justify the cost.

Service at Mancini's also helped ease the extra money out of my pocket. Unlike the alternatives, the staff are pleasant and eager to help. They appeared unperturbed by my barrage of questions and more than anything, genuinely interested in making small talk.

If you're looking to watch the game, have a bite and hang out, Mancini's a good alternative to a bar. It's expensive for a pizzeria, but the extra cost is worth the atmosphere.

Still, if you're a bargain hunter, then this may not be the place for you. The extra quarter here and there adds up and the tab will probably be a dollar or two higher than if you were to walk down the street.

I intend to head to Mancini's a second time. More than likely, I will go a third and even a fourth. It's a nice little place, with the pizzeria food I want, the comfort I enjoy and people who are helpful, rather than annoyed when you ask them to do what they're paid for.

Mancini's is open from 10am to roughly midnight, seven days a week. If you're interested in learning more about them, I recommend taking a stroll in, rather than calling. To order take-out, you can call (718)-680-1700.