Squires

 218 N State Rd. Briarcliff, NY 10510 • (914) 762-3376squiresofbriarcliff.com

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I’ve heard a lot of people swear by this burger, but after the debacle at The Blazer Pub I was very skittish, regardless of the 3-time Best of Westchester crownings. Sorry BOW, but you’re about as reliable as Yelp.

Upon entering, the crowd didn’t make me feel much better, loaded with geriatrics to the point where I could’ve sworn I was on the set of the film Cocoon 3. But as depressing as the fogey-fest was, I was more unnerved by the fact that this place belongs somewhere in the middle of the dessert along Route 66 where drifters sign up for contract killings. So feeling like Dorothy in the Land of Oz, I ordered up a pint of Stella and the Cheese Supreme Burger.

The Stella on tap was on point and the service was very friendly- in fact, even the burger is definitely good on a purist level, but best in Westchester? It’s not even in my top three. The Inn at Pound Ridge, Melts and the Napa Burger at Westchester Burger Co. all trounce the Cheese Supreme, which was a supreme disappointment initially. So much so that I had my server fetch some jalapenos stat, to resuscitate some life back into the mozzarella, cheddar and Swiss trio of tastelessness. Luckily it worked. And perhaps I’m to blame for listening to the recommendations of my waiter and Yelper’s alike, but then again, it’s more fun to blame them. And while I’m at it, the friggin’ bun was about 30% too small for the patty. I hate that. It makes me what to hire a contract killer and take out the reviews that touted this place. Hmmm… Perhaps I am in the right place after all?

2 teeth

Glasserie

95 Commercial St. New York, NY 11222(718) 389-0640glasserienyc.com

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Being that it is currently a James Beard nominee, this was way up on my list of Brooklyn bites, so when the chance arose to dine here on an expense account, I was in Ferocious heaven.

Regrettably, heavenly is not exactly how I would describe the aroma upon entering. Rather the word dishwater comes to mind. Such a turn off right out of the gate to be hit by a wall of wafting stank from the kitchen opposite the foyer. Not great planning on that one. Nor on the chairs, which make you feel like you’re auditioning for the shrinking role in Alice in Wonderland. Fortunately the rest of the setting is nice, with its exposed brick, charming divided-light windows and mid-century touches, mixed with a little rustic industrialism.

In terms of food, I really appreciated the inventive fusion of Mediterranean and Middle Eastern cuisines. Not that there isn’t already an inherent overlap between the two, but the way the chef blended those elements was truly original.

Not wasting any time, our painfully hip waitress delivered a series of wows, the biggest and Ultimatest being the flatbread with labneh. Served piping hot, so much so that no one could even tear it apart for the first several minutes. And the labneh (yogurt) is unbelievably thick and creamy, filled with a lagoon of wonderful olive oil and harissa. The grilled bread was also good, but next to the flat, it was Marsha, Marsha, Marsha!

I also loved the mixed nuts with leblebi. The latter are dried, crunchy chickpeas that are popular during cocktail hour in Turkey. The olives were also nice. Home marinated I’m guessing, because the stems were still on many of them.

After that the courses started hitting the table fast and furious, with a lot of hits, but unfortunately a few misses as well. The hits for me would be the lamb sweetbreads, done grilled as opposed to fried, which I really liked. Feels like a more faithful preparation. The rabbit tacos were also quite nice, served in what I believe was a jicama taco shell. The stuffed cabbage was such a blast from my past that I almost had to love it. And it did Bubby proud, granted a much more inventive spin, made with hanger steak inside, as well as couscous.

In the middle of the field I would put the chicken entree, the leaves and leaves salad, the Syrian cheese plate (pictured) and the Brussels sprouts. All are good, but the fact that sprouts are on every friggin’ menu these days is growing a bit played. And while I appreciate the brown bag serving vessel, I can’t get past the “me too” factor. It’s like kale and Brussels sprouts are being mandated by some sort of foodie mafia overlord.

Bringing up the rear would be the cauliflower and the hanger steak. The former for being way too basic to the point where you could make as good or better at home, and the latter because it was undercooked and chewy, without enough flavor to make the jaw work worthwhile.

In terms of cocktails, they all sounded better than they tasted and the Arak, while served up on a silver platter, literally, is as basic as it gets at its core. The only inventive twist being an actual twist- and a shot grapefruit juice to mix in with your ice, water and anise booze. For a better Arak cocktail try the Hana at Balaboosta.

During dessert things went a little off the rails. The cookie assortment was easily the best. The ice creams went 1 for 3, pistachio being the only one anybody touched. The cardamom and tahini both melted in the bowl like a lonely Wicked Witch of the North. And the chocolate mousse was so bad it shat the bed, or should I say the diaper, which is what it looked like once you opened the bag, like a diaper with shit in it. Not sure what they were thinking on this one, or more than likely it was a lack thinking that lead to this abomination of presentation, but unless you want to test the fortitude of your constitution, I’d take a pass.

So while the performance most certainly ended on a foul note, the earlier winners were enough to carry it over the mid-line.

3 teeth