Max Gross stuffs his face... AGAIN

My new video on the South Williamsburg food scene is up on the Post's web site. (It's attached to my friend and colleague Adam Bonislawski's story.)

I've already written a little about Fatty 'Cue, so I won't say too much more about it. (Except that I tried three things that I hadn't before, all of which were uniformly excellent: The whole pig (8); the clams (8); and the curry duck (10!). Seriously: That place is awesome.)

While the people who ran Pies 'N Thighs were slightly less friendly than the rest of those I interviewed, I have to concede: I had one of the best pieces of fried chicken I've ever tasted. Not too greasy, and well salted. For $5 you can get the chicken and a biscuit with a dollop of honey butter. (Sooooooo good.)

I was slightly less impressed with the dessert that I picked than I let on in the video. (I've tried some of their others -- the desserts are great.) The peanut butter pie that I tasted was only so-so. Stick with the cookies or one of the fruit pies.

And Traif is great. I was already pretty full by the time I stopped there so I chose scallops instead of something heavy and porky. They were really delicious. They come on a bed of green snap pea risotto. Rich and delicious. (I know why: Having watched the chef, Jason Marcus, making them for me he used a tremendous amount of butter.)

I didn't actually eat anything at Dressler this time, but having eaten there in the past I can attest the place is worth a splurge. And I'm not even mentioning Dumont burger (so good). But in any event, for my foodies out there: South Williamsburg is worth a trip!

Living up to the name

On the advice of one of my loyal readers, I'm going to stay away from politics for the next week and stick to food and movie stuff.

First up, hot-shit chef, Zak Pelaccio, (of 5 Ninth and Fatty Crab fame) has opened his new restaurant in South Williamsburg, Fatty 'Cue, after a two year long wait.

The idea behind the restaurant is that the food is barbecue -- but with a Malaysian twist. (I believe Pelaccio spent some time in Asia studying cooking.) It's not quite as heavy as your standard BBQ fare -- but it's not quite Malaysian, either. (Yet it's certainly fattening enough to live up to the name.)

I'm usually a little wary of these sorts of hybrids; when you order a piece of brisket, you'd hope that a chef would have sense enough to not mess with one of the good lord's most perfect chunks of beef. And while I concede that barbecue brisket can reduce a grown man to sobs of regret when his plate is empty ("How could I?! How could I?!") -- the sobs are mixed with those of joy. The unadorned barbecue brisket, with all its richness and meatiness, beats the hell out of whatever newfangled sauce some smartass chef can smear alongside.

So it was a great relief to find that whatever Malaysian flourishes Pelaccio has given his food is subtle enough so that you barely notice it.

The Wagyu brisket is well marbled and comes with chili jam and three warm little buns, so that you can make a little brisket sandwich for yourself. (Like you would make if you were eating Peking Duck.)

It was, quite simply, delicious. (I have a special weakness for those little Peking duck sandwiches, so I might not be the best person to trust on this.)

The other meat heavy dish that my friend and I sampled were lamb ribs, which came with a white dipping sauce made out of white wine brine, garlic and lemon emulsion and cincalok (don't feel bad for not knowing that one. I had to look it up, too.) The sauce had a yogurt-like texture, and the dish tasted almost more Indian than Malaysian.

My only real quibble with it is that the lamb ribs were at least 50 percent fat. Maybe that's just the way they are, but I had to leave more than half of my ribs uneaten.

But, what I did taste was very, very good.

However, Fatty 'Cue is not entirely meat.

My dining companion and I tried an extremely respectable bowl of noodles with scallions and chili. And we also had a seafood sausage -- a white colored tube of shellfish, packed with ground up shrimp and scallop, and resting in a puddle of green curry.

It might have been better than the brisket. (I licked my plate.)

Moreover, the menu has some excellent drinks: The housemade beer is as good as any ale on the market, and if you can get past the horrible name, the "Forplay Cock Tail", which consists of aperol, yuzu, prosecco, mezcal and smoked grapefruit is extremely delicious. (But at $10 a pop, it goddamn better be!)

And this brings us to my only real quibble with the restaurant: It ain't cheap.

The menu looks reasonably priced, but all the dishes are small. Two dishes really aren't enough to satisfy a normal person. And the drinks are outrageously expensive. By the end of the evening, our bill had come to $80, not including tip -- which is a hell of a lot for barbecue for two.

Which makes me sort of glad that Fatty 'Cue is in a little corner of South Williamsburg, with only the J/M/Z line nearby. Otherwise, I'm sure a weak-willed man such as myself would go there every night -- and wind up broke and fat. But probably happy.

Fanning the flames

For New Years Eve this year, I dined at a little Williamsburg eatery, Fanny, with a friend of mine.

"Should I get the steak frites," I asked my dining companion, "or should I be good and have the roast chicken?"

"Having tasted the roast chicken," my friend said, "I can tell you one thing: It ain't healthier. They use, like, a stick of butter."

That was enough -- I was sold.

And, indeed, the chicken tasted far too rich and delicious to be considered in any way "good" for your health. It was poison. But you'd die with a smile on your face. (Roast chicken is one of those dishes that for me calls up a Proustian memory of my youth. There are very, very few things I enjoy more.)

The skin (which, for the most part, I cut away) was perfectly crispy, the meat was tender and moist. And it came with spinach and mushrooms which also tasted like they were drenched in butter.

It was truly spectacular.

My friend had the scallops -- two plump mollusks over a cream sauce (which wasn't on the regular menu) which I got only a small taste of. (She wasn't about to give up those suckers.) But having just had a small nibble, I can attest they were also delish.

And the prices are extremely reasonable (my chicken was $16 -- I think the scallops were $20.)

All in all, this schlub gives Fanny a nice pat, uh... on the head.

Where were you when I was making this dump cool?

Check out this video of the Williamsburg retelling of Job. The final biblical plague to hit hipster Job is a familiar one to readers of FSTS. Hilarious.

Get your Motorino running...

I would advise getting one's tush immediately in gear and heading to the new pizza restaurant in Williamsburg called Motorino as soon as one can.

It is, in a word, fabulous.

I went with a couple of friends last weekend and just about everything we ate was delicious. As good as any pizza I can think of in New York -- with one or two exceptions. (Which is very high praise coming from a pizza snob like me.)

We tried four different pizzas: The Margheritta DOC; the Pommodori; the Pugliese and the Artichoke pizza. My favorite was the Artichoke pizza, which consisted of roasted slivers of artichoke, strips of smoked pancetta, olives and parmigiano cheese.

Oy gevalt!

The pancetta (let's be honest and call it bacon) was such a genius touch. A wonderful savory pizza. Even though one could taste each of the ingredients perfectly clearly, they were all sliced very thin -- in other words, nothing was too overwhelming. You always got the sense you were eating a pizza. Just a ridiculously delicious tasing pizza.

My second favorite was the pommodori -- a pizza with baby tomatoes and more bacon, along with garlic, basil and arugula. Third place went to the Margherita with buffalo mozzarella and fourth would have to go to the Pugliese -- a pizza with broccoli, sausage and chilies. And even though the Pugliese was probably my least favorite, it was still absolutely tasty and something I would order again.

The antipasta were also very good -- we had a Tricolore salad, a bresaola (a cured meat) and a roasted artichoke dish. (The artichoke was probably my least favorite -- not that it was bad, per se, just difficult to eat. Frankly, I'd stick with the artichoke on the pizza.)

The grand total for this feast?

Eighty-seven dollars -- for five people.

The reason you should get there as soon as possible is the fact that Motorino does not yet have their liquor license. It's B.Y.O.B. until January. (Which explains why our tab was so low.)

This does lead to a few problems, however. Namely, you will be inclined to drink a bit too much. When we were there, we went through four bottles of wine (there's a pretty decent liquor store on the corner.) And when we were in a tipsy, happy state I began chatting with the owner.

"How was everything?"

"Great," I said. "Absolutely great. I gotta tell you -- it made a place like, say, Otto, look like shit."

This was perhaps a little unfair of me. I actually like Otto quite a bit (which a lot of my fellow pizza snobs see as a failing on my part). But I was a little drunk and a little prone to exaggeration.

"Really?" the owner said. "Actually, I opened Otto."