My objection to concepts like Caruso's - "let's bring back the New Jersey red sauce Italian restaurant, but cater to hipsters" - is that the unstated premise is that the original model is lost to days gone by and now can only be experienced as kitsch. But the originals never went anywhere and if you're in the mood for one of those red sauce Italian joints you can find plenty that have been in continuous operation for decades. (Permit me to recommend the baked ziti at Brothers Pizza on Rt. 18, East Brunswick.)
It is hard to imagine how much the suburban food scene has changed in 30 years (which I guess is a long time so maybe not so hard) - when I was a kid out here, there was one Korean restaurant, one good Japanese place, a Vietnamese restaurant or two in Clarendon, and then the usual American 1980s fare. Today, I have upwards of ten pho restaurants that I rotate through, each with a slight variation; Korean restaurants are here by the dozens. In fact, the unique nature of a cuisine (be it Burmese, Yemeni, or Lao) is always a draw out here, but now I have learn to calibrate my interests by trying to figure out which version of each nuanced cuisine is best.
After reading this, I want to see your column after somebody sends you to some concept restaurant where they serve you a flake of phyllo dough, one maple leaf, and a bowl of steam for $485.
My objection to concepts like Caruso's - "let's bring back the New Jersey red sauce Italian restaurant, but cater to hipsters" - is that the unstated premise is that the original model is lost to days gone by and now can only be experienced as kitsch. But the originals never went anywhere and if you're in the mood for one of those red sauce Italian joints you can find plenty that have been in continuous operation for decades. (Permit me to recommend the baked ziti at Brothers Pizza on Rt. 18, East Brunswick.)
It is hard to imagine how much the suburban food scene has changed in 30 years (which I guess is a long time so maybe not so hard) - when I was a kid out here, there was one Korean restaurant, one good Japanese place, a Vietnamese restaurant or two in Clarendon, and then the usual American 1980s fare. Today, I have upwards of ten pho restaurants that I rotate through, each with a slight variation; Korean restaurants are here by the dozens. In fact, the unique nature of a cuisine (be it Burmese, Yemeni, or Lao) is always a draw out here, but now I have learn to calibrate my interests by trying to figure out which version of each nuanced cuisine is best.
After reading this, I want to see your column after somebody sends you to some concept restaurant where they serve you a flake of phyllo dough, one maple leaf, and a bowl of steam for $485.