[ALBSA-Info] Village Voice article

[Besnik Pula]

http://www.villagevoice.com/issues/0139/sietsema.php

The Village Voice, New York

Week of September 26 - October 2, 2001


Albanians have their own Arthur Avenue at Restorant Shqiptar.
(photo: Chrissie Ferrara)

Counter Culture
by Robert Sietsema

Brains and Brawn

Now that the Times has finally discovered that many Arthur Avenue Italian
restaurants are being run by Albanians, the real story is that restaurateurs
are coming out of the closet. Proudly festooning their awnings with
hard-to-pronounce names, replacing the Italian tricolor with the two-headed
black eagle, they've begun serving their own country's food. Restorant
Shqiptar takes its moniker from the Albanian name for Albania, and it seems
to have replaced a much older Neapolitan joint. Spilling tables onto the
sidewalk, this raffish hangout is populated with dudes smoking, playing
cards, and nursing Buds. A well-worn oak bar dominates one side of the room,
and flames leap up from a grill in a corner kitchen.

The menu is less complicated than it looks. The section designated Makarone
lists familiar Italian pastas, and the poultry section remains Italian too.
Who could resist the poetic "chicken shoemaker" ($9.95), even if you know it
will turn out to be rather prosaic breast tidbits swamped in mushroom sauce?
Still, if you're looking for real Albanian food, turn your attention instead
to the sections headed Salad, Fish, and Meat. Sallate turshie ($3.25) is a
platter of cucumbers and red peppers, pickled and pinned down with a plank
of feta‹a refreshing starter. Entrée-wise, peshk zgare ($9.95) grills an
entire sea bream till the thick skin is crisp and the yellow-tinged flesh
aromatic of lemon and garlic. Also remarkable is qofte, a chef's special
that features a patty of ground beef that‹in a wonderful feat of food
architecture‹squirts sour cream when you slice into it. But blowing
everything else away is qingj I pjekur ($14), a sizable haunch of baby lamb
roasted deep brown and plated elegantly with just a pair of lemon wedges.

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Restorant Shqiptar 
660 East 187th Street, Bronx, 718-562-4700.

Gurra Café  
2325 Arthur Avenue, 718-220-4254.

All Star Café & Restaurant
2328 Arthur Avenue, 718-367-3917.
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There's no Italian component at Gurra Café, just around the corner, where
the awning grandly proclaims "Shqiptare Cuisine." The interior resembles a
Swiss chalet, with exposed beams and peeling murals of snowcapped mountains
that look suspiciously like the Rockies. When asked for a menu, the owlish
waiter smiles and shakes his head, offering instead, "I make assortment for
you." Five minutes later he materializes with a metal tray bearing a
landscape of meat mountains separated by meadows of iceberg dotted with
tomatoes and crisscrossed with picket fences of feta. The peaks are indeed
awesome, formed from pounded-thin filets, short skinless sausages, and
hamburger patties that glow with tallow and exude a faint odor of smoke.
Pointing and beaming, the waiter boasts, "All veal!" With more than a pound
allotted to each diner, we didn't leave hungry ($10 per person).
Just across the street is Arthur Avenue's longest-running Albanian, the All
Star Café & Restaurant, which took an odd turn last year when it was bought
by a pair of Swedish dames, who soon imparted a Scandinavian spin to the
menu. Though it doesn't come with lingonberries, there's a nicely grilled
salmon filet, and a pair of ethereal crumbed and butter-sautéed trout that
would find a hearty welcome in both Sweden and Albania. But where All Star
really distinguishes itself is in the fulfillment of the Albanian passion
for variety meats. Well-cleansed kidneys come doused with butter and garlic,
while brains can be had two ways: simply grilled and drizzled with lemon,
or‹even better‹battered, fried, and inundated with a light lemon sauce.
Finally, there's a homely stew of navy beans that tastes just like
Campbell's Bean With Bacon. Not bad. It comes bobbing with slices of a thin
sausage flagrantly named suxhuk, a Kosovar specialty with an intriguing
winey aftertaste. But residents of the neighborhoods surrounding Arthur
Avenue will identify it differently: chorizo.