Duck fried rice
Since I'm not from Portugal, arroz de pato is not on my list of romanticized foods. It's got nothing on oyster pancakes. Since I hail from Taiwan, things like this should make sense to any outsider. But sometimes I know there are foods that transcend cultures and taste good no matter what your background or ethnicity is. Frank Bruni wrote about this rice dish as, "a go-for-broke hillock of rice with duck cracklings and black olives." Or as I like to call it, duck fried rice. It's a crude approximation to be sure, and granted that fried rice has more to do with the preparation than the taste... I still come back to the idea that a big plate or bowl of rice with mixed stuff equals fried rice. In this country though, calling something fried rice is probably a put-down. A diss. Shit son, that ain't no fried rice you ignorant shit, that's paella. See what I mean? Can't just call a rice dish in another culture a name as evil as fried rice. Would Mendes see it as a compliment if I called his arroz de pato one of the best fried rice I've had, or would I just be an ignorant little shit? The interwebs mostly portray chefs as folks who thinks bloggers misunderstand everything, so maybe my appreciation of the tastiness is just one big misunderstanding.
Prior to the $21 dollar fried rice, I mean, arroz de pato, Steph and I tried the foie gras terrine. This is one of those things that reaches across cultures. I still can't believe there are people who don't like that ducks get overfed to create this fatty marvel. Like the rice, this was a dish that made me wish for larger portions. I guess you're better off buying foie gras terrine from a specialty store if you really want to go wild. At restaurants, you just get enough to wish for more.
For dessert, you really shouldn't pass on the sonhos or 'little dreams'. Or as I like to call them, donuts. They come freshly fried and they're dusted with some sugar and cinnamon. You also get some caramel, chocolate sauce, and raspberry (I think...) dipping sauce. This was easily the best part of the meal.
Aldea is pretty low key during lunch if you get a chance to go during the deal. The dining room was maybe half full, and you get the benefit of having a quiet meal. One of the things that always gets to me is just how close your neighbors are when you go sit down for a meal. During dinner time, I'm sure Aldea has more diners, and you're so close to the person next to you that you can turn and easily pick off your neighbors food without moving your ass one inch. That's the problem with dining in New York since real estate is so pricy. But damn. Why is space so hard to come by?
Aldea
31 W 17th St.
New York, NY 10011
212-675-7223
