
There is something to be said for slumming in a new neighborhood. My pal Kristin had been talking up an extended dinner event in Astoria for quite some time. And, when my colleague Rich, also an Astoria resident, suggested that few of us should pay call on an Astoria dive called Glen Oaks Bar preceding a down-n-dirty dinner, a trip seemed destined. Our friend Kurt rounded out the party to make a foursome.
We arrived by subway wandering down 30th in search of libation. Many blocks later we hit upon the inauspicious watering hole. But, once I saw the pub's hanging airplane made out of beer cans and the collection of classic, bonafide bums bellying up at the bar, I knew Rich had found a real hot spot.
Then magic happened. The bartender sent one of the bonafide bums out to a bodega to pick up limes to go with my order of a pony-neck Corona.
This was a dive to love.
After a couple of rounds avec lime wedges, we headed off towards Steinway Street to the itty-bitty, hole-in-the-wall, BYOB gourmet joint, Kabab Cafe.
And, I thought that Glen Oaks was a dive to love.
Owned and operated by chef Ali El Sayed who is noted for his jaunty beret, joie de vivre and amazing culinary gifts (pictured above in all his glory), Kabab Cafe is brimming with festive energy and gorgeous Egyptian fare. And, the fact that we could bring in two six-packs from the Korean down the street didn't hurt matters either.
Ali didn't let a moment pass after we sat down before opening four bottles of beer. 1-2-3-4. "Now drink up and take a look at the menu. I'll be back in second."
That's hospitality.
And soon after the food began to arrive. A magnificent mezze platter crammed with delectable tastes - but all I can remember is the housemade baba ghanoush - the creamiest I've ever tasted. We sopped up every bit of the plate with the lovely freshly baked flat bread that was heaped onto the table as an accompaniment. Oh, and then there was homemade yogurt we ordered alongside - cool and custardy, topped with flavorful olive oil and cumin. Mmmm...That was sopped up in its entirety as well.
We couldn't each settle on entrees, so we decided to split three. The Lamb with Pomegranate was rich and succelent and the special of whole fish over veggies was a nice counterpoint. But then there was the Duck with Honey. This is the duck of my dreams. (And, I didn't even know that I ever had duck dreams. But, I sure as heck have them now.)
Polishing off every morsel in front of us - and every bottle of beer in front of us too, we noticed that the entire restaurant (all 150-square feet of it) had cleared out. Only Ali, his female companion and one hell of a hookah remained. Kurt was entranced by the exotic waterpipe and being buzzed, full and from Tennessee, he found the gumption to ask Ali for a puff. Ali graciously obliged and then invited us all to try. Kurt took one puff and was suddenly grinning like the Cheshire cat.
OK. Twist my arm.
One puff and I was done.
We stumbled out onto the street and noticed that several small coffee houses lined the block, all sporting several hookahs in use by several contented looking males.
Kristin insisted we drop by her favorite Jordanian bakery Laziza, which was jam-packed with exotic looking goodies. She ordered up a huge box of pistachio and walnut stuffed cookies and we were on our way.
What evening is complete without a nightcap, after all?
Heading back to 30th, we decided not to tarnish our memory of Glen Oaks by revisiting so soon. Instead we headed further down the street and grabbed a table one of Kristin's haunts, Fleming's Pub. Beers were ordered, we nibbled on the sweet cookies and then the fascination with Fleming's well-stocked jukebox began.
We ended the evening with 99 Luftballoons well after midnight. I decided to be a JAP and hailed a cab. Kurt did the same. I can't speak for Rich and Kristin. They are Astoria residents. And, last I saw them that evening, they were heading back into the bar.
99 Luftballoons one more time!