Snappy Food
SnapFood.Com
Qasim
338 9th Ave. (29th St.), 212-695-6556
Taco Bandito
325 8th Ave. (26th St.), 212-989-5518
Chelsea Thai
75 9th Ave. (15th st.), 212-924-2999
I met Lon Binder, 26-year-old president of SnapFood, outside of Qasim restaurant on 9th Ave. and 29th St. He was on his mobile, of course, like any young businessman on the go. He was taking me to meet Shaheen, the owner of Qasim, for whom I had a million questions. I can never really get a straight answer, or even eye contact, at Pakistani cabdriver joints like Punjabi, or the more notable New NaimaKada (whose menu boasts "Served Halal Food") on Lexington.
Binder, whose rapid-fire delivery would've been well-suited to a young entrepreneur in the 1940s, gave me a quick rundown as we entered: "The food quality's phenomenal, and you get huge portions. It's authentic. You know how some places will say they're spicy, but it's toned down for an American palate? Here spice means spice-this is Bangladeshi, but with halal meat."
SnapFood is a website Binder started earlier this year, which he volubly explained: "You can go to our site and order food from local restaurants, you can see places in your neighborhood, pay with your credit card, see a menu, make notes. It's easy, you don't have to speak to anyone... When you pay with a credit card in a restaurant, it can be stolen-we remove the risk of this. Customers like the high order accuracy."
I love to order in, which always excites me unduly, but I'm never sure what to tip.
"On a smaller order, the first consideration is how much hassle for the delivery guy-if you're in a bank or stock exchange, where they wait on line, a higher tip makes sense. If the restaurant is around the corner, and you're on the first floor, 10 percent is okay. When you finalize your order, we have a tip calculator of suggested tips," Binder informed me.
At Quasim we ordered lamb biryani, tikka masala and chicken chapli kebob, as well as a non-greasy samosa; I'd never tasted anything like it. The tikka masala (the most popular on SnapFood) has a subtle flavor you can't pin down.
"The chef here has worked 35 years as a cook," Shaheen told me. "He used to work for the Pakistani Army. He does special things, and keeps it a secret."
Shaheen tells me they're actually in a soul-food directory, and because the meat is halal ,they're also frequented by Muslim and Jewish diners.
"We kill the animal by the way of god, no electro shock," Shaheen explains. "It's cleaner, no blood on the meat, no msg. Punjabi people don't have meat, but this is regular. [People from] India, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Pakistan all eat the same food."
He ought to know, but I always remember my Brahmin friend from Calcutta and his disdain for the 6th St. restaurants. "This is not real Indian food," he snorted. "It's Bangladeshi!"
Qasim imports a lot of spices from Spain. "The cab drivers come in at 4 a.m. All the taxi people are mine. I can walk down the street, they take me anywhere. 'Yo, Shaheen, where you going?'"
I knew that Binder had brought me to a kind of foodie church, and I squirmed in pleasure as he reflected on his mango lassi: "The yogurt and even the biryani have another level of spice, but it's not so overpowering!"
We sped down the street to the next place, Taco Bandito on 8th Ave., and I remarked on Binder's zip: "Sometimes I feel like running," he confessed. "I can't even walk!"
Taco Bandito advertises "Fresh Tortillas," making it one of the many Asian-owned and operated joints that employ a tortilla machine to yield fresh, delightfully doughy tortillas. When toasted with cheese, they're the perfect winter comfort treat; not authentic, no, but of their own Asian-American-Mexican pedigree.
Owner Jim Lu, who trained at Taco City-his brother's former place on the Upper East Side-has a system: One cook grills while another marinates. "I keep this separate for consistency. Wilver knows the time of day, he knows how many chickens to grill. I learned a few words in Spanish, but they speak very fast for my ear. The guy who does the marinating, he learned some Chinese. Some people say, 'You're Chinese,' but anybody can do this: good food, good service, good price!"
I had a grilled chicken fajita for $1.75. The chicken was a better quality than usual, cooked thoroughly, and there was more of it. Though the food was great-and I could've eaten more-one of the best things about hanging with Binder is that he knows restaurant owners like Shaheen and Jim Lu. This means a lot of stops in one evening.
The last place we went was the Chelsea Market, an upscale place beyond the two neighborhoods I usually frequent. There, I met Chelsea Thai owner Saruj Nimkarn, a pleasantly chubby man whose scrappy father was out front looking like he should've been smoking, and whose kindly uncle sat in helpfully.
According to Nimkarn, his restaurant is famous for its pad Thai because they use an original recipe from Thailand. "Some places here," he revealed, "use ketchup!"
A woman dining nearby backed him on his story. "I came all the way from Brooklyn for the pad Thai and the sate," she told me. "The pad Thai you're used to is a Westernized version; other places have nothing to do with Thailand-they're just sweet, no texture."
I tried the gang keaw wan and tasted for myself. This wasn't the sweet green coconut curry that I'm used to. (Instead of a large dose of cane sugar, Nimkarn uses palm sugar in the curry.) I always think of Thai food as edible perfume, and fully supporting that was the jasmine rice, which is grown only in Vietnam and Thailand. You won't always get it at, say, a Thai fusion restaurant, a concept that carries no water with Nimkarn.
"I have to stay true to my culture," he says. "If you like what you find in the street in Bangkok-if you take my menu there, they'll know what to cook for you." I made a note to one of the unattached white male friends to do that; he seemed to get very interested in Thailand at about the age of 40.
Noticing my consistent sniffle, Nimkarn's uncle suggested I get the tom yum kung soup. "Good for a cold," he said, and I managed to find just enough room for it before rolling home.