No doubt, the Cronut was an inspired idea. And fans of the Ramen Burger continue to endure ridiculous Smorgasburg lines for their weekly fix. But at what point have we as a society taken the food mash-up trend too far — from the intriguing to the just plain gross?
Meet the Cheetos macaron.
Yes, just in time for Halloween, the Macaron Parlour on St. Marks Place has figured out a way to turn the delicate, airy French confection into an unholy combination that only sounds like a good idea if you’ve been smoking a bong all night. Cheetos-infused white-chocolate ganache sandwiched between two cookies dusted with Cheetos crumbs? Somebody call Seth Rogen.
Even more impressive, the shop has managed to make bacon disgusting. Any time of the year, you can sample the Macaron Parlour’s cream cheese and candied bacon “treat.” As my 10-year-old daughter, Chloe, gagged after a couple bites of the thing: “Is there water anywhere?” It’s repulsive enough that half of mine remains wrapped in plastic, inside my coat pocket.
Over at Waffle & Wolf in Williamsburg, they’ll serve you all kinds of delicious-sounding sandwiches — pulled pork with horseradish yogurt and red onions; Mexican chicken; tomato and mozzarella — but the catch is that they come on a waffle. The hipsters crowding the place, well, they eat it up. But each bite is just . . . weird. A baguette, a tortilla, even plain old white bread would be better.
What’s wrong with America?
Programming executives at Spike TV have announced plans for a show called “Frankenfood,” hosted by chef Josh Capon of Lure Fishbar in Soho. “The Franken-factor has to be interesting and make sense in order for the food to work,” says Capon, who ate pancake lasagna and drank a bangers-and-mash milkshake while filming the program. “The idea is to put flavors together and have them blow up like a Reuben sandwich.”
No newcomer to the world of Frankenfood, press-averse Kenny Shopsin has been throwing together unusual culinary combinations for years, like chili-cheese omelets or cheese-stuffed tortilla chips topped with mustard greens and peas. At Shopsin’s current eponymous outpost, at the Essex Street Market, he offers a breakfast combo that sounds like one for the ages. It’s two macaroni and cheese pancakes sandwiching fried chicken and a scrambled egg. Of course, it sounds random and over the top, but that’s the point.
When I receive the dish — so filling that the waiter adamantly refuses my request to add on an order of fried potatoes stuffed with pastrami, sauerkraut, Swiss cheese and Russian dressing — it looks like a gluttony pile-up that can’t possibly end well. Initially, it’s too dry going down. Then a kitchen worker suggests that I pour on maple syrup and hot sauce. Amazingly, the whole thing comes to life.
Shopsin is not the only New York City chef experimenting with mac and cheese. At Park Slope’s MeltKraft, an offshoot of the excellent cheese purveyor Valley Shepherd, there is a grilled Franken-sandwich called Valley Thunder. It comes hot-rodded with cheddar cheese, brisket from Bubbe’s and homemade macaroni and cheese. In this case, the brisket-burdened sandwich doesn’t jump the shark so much as it fails to attain liftoff. The whole thing comes off surprisingly blah — especially when compared to the restaurant’s straightforward grilled cheese, which is gooey and pleasingly sharp.
Finally, I take my kids over to Greenwich Village’s Umami Burger, which now has Donut Ice Cream Sandwiches on the menu. Basically, they’re a Mayor Bloomberg nightmare: blocks of ice cream set between doughnut halves.
We order all three varieties — peanut butter and jelly ice cream on a jelly doughnut; chocolate ganache ice cream on a chocolate peanut butter doughnut; and cinnamon toast ice cream on a chocolate-chip cinnamon roll.
Five minutes after they touch down on the table, everything’s gone.
So, yes, there is still magic to be found in the mash-up trend.
There’s also a pink lining to the bloated Frankenfood cloud hanging over New York City: It’s probably a smart time to buy stock in Pepto-Bismol.