Ariana, Let's Get Together, Yea Yea Yea

Last night Andy, Alyssa, Aaron, Abby, Amanda and I went to Ariana, an Afghani restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen (né ‘Clinton’ to the real estate agents). As our second meeting of the Fat Bastards I would like to say it was a loud obnoxious success, not just because I had had two glasses of wine and a mojito before dinner, or the fact that we got Aaron to go above 14th street, but because on a culinary scale our expeditions seem to be improving.

Ariana is a small, packed shotgun style restaurant, the kind that would make people from LA whimper for the palatial isolation of their long driveways and SUV’s. On the walls are muted tapestries and Steve McCurry’s famous Afghan girl captured in the 1980’s for National Geographic. Despite these classic American/Afghan visuals, it made me long for pre-war 1970’s Afghanistan when American hippie wanderers could add the country to their long list of places to go to “find yourself”.

They say you can tell a good chef by how he makes the simplest dishes. The two things I liked the most at Ariana were the basmati rice and the tea with cardamon. Following a close third was our affectionate waiter/host/former freedom fighter. Several of us asked for recommendations, and with no hesitation at all he brought out his “favorite” dishes. I had a “famous vegetarian” spinach and pumpkin entree with the aforementioned magic rice. I can honestly say I have never had food that tasted quite like this. It was savory without being too sweet, flavorful without tasting heavy or unhealthy. For an appetizer, we had turnovers with yogurt sauce. There were pumpkin turnovers called Kadoo Bolanee and, for the carnivores, meat turnovers called Bolanee Qandana. Unlike Indian samosas, these turnovers had a thin crispy skin that allowed you to see the filling underneath. I can’t speak for the meat eaters but the pumpkin version was quite tasty.

I should probably put it out there right now, that I am not the fraulein Mostly Martha of the group. I am biased towards ungreasy vegetarian fare, with the occasional spicy seafood thrown in. Well and French pastries. Mmmmm butter. I hope to one day have a backyard again with a big table, a garden, lots of wine, and a bunch of crazy people over for dinner on a warm Autumn night.

xo,

Fat Bastard Mary


Damn. If Augusto joins us again it will be 6 A's (what are the odds?)... poor mary!

In her excellent appraisal of Ariana, Fraulein Burge forgot to mention the highlights of the evening. In particular, the generosity of our amiable host/waiter as he showered us (and by us I mean Amanda) with a plethora of kisses, solicitous offers of backrubs and invitations for table dancing. Next time.


Unfortunately, Mary's venerable predilection for vegetables prevented her from experiencing Ariana's finest offerings. After an exhausting day, the first bite into a meat filled samusa smothered in yogurt and the green hot sauce elicited a blissful moan as i relaxed back into my seat. Was it my imagination or did Aaron, perpetually wary of my intentions, pull his chair away a few inches at this point? I did not care. Those pastry puffs of pure tender goodness were the definition of contentment.

Yet, Ariana had still more pleasures to bestow upon us. The moist and flavorful lamb kabobs brought tears to my eyes. Abby and I knew that the meager portions were not going to satiate our glutinous needs, as we horded our last tender morsels with zeal. There was only one solution: we instantly ordered a second round of kabobs. If only it was always this good!



-al
other photos:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/94933506@N00/sets/72157602301314838/