What's there to eat?

What’s There to Eat? New York Noodle Pleasures

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 19 May 2010 00:29:00 +0000

Last fall, a mother-daughter Columbus Day trip to the City began auspiciously with a 5 minute tunnel crossing that lent a feeling of optimism and set the automotive pace for the rest of the day! Who has a stick shift and can remember the last time they drove through the Holland Tunnel in 5^th gear? I do remember a crossing in September that took three hours. We had plans to park and then take the subway or walk until we were ready to leave but traffic was so light that I decided at Astor Place to keep driving. We only hit one red light between there and the Museum of the City of New York at 103^rd Street! Then we parked at a meter a few blocks away!

I had selected this museum because it is one of only a few open on Monday and I have been intrigued by their exhibitions advertised on NPR. It turned out to be a great choice. We explored “Legacy, “ an great show of beautiful Joel Meyerowitz photos of “wilderness in New York City Parks.” And truly these are wild and beautiful spots throughout the five boroughs. Incredible. From there we went upstairs to see an exhibition about the history of the seaport area that was well-done and then back down for the headline show. I even started Christmas shopping in the gift shop.

Back to the car and downtown for a much-anticipated Ramen noodle lunch. Momofuko is closed on Monday and I had planned to try Ippudo but they had a 45 minute wait and the crowd was a bit too trendy looking for us anyway. By now it was 1 pm and Nora was starving and cranky as a result and starting to whine and be difficult. I had another noodle back-up several blocks east on 10^th Street and it was perfect. Rai Rai Ken is the tiniest sliver of a restaurant with three stools and a small counter in the window and one long narrow counter along the side that seats twelve. All of the cooking takes place behind the counter and the food is simple, cheap and comes quickly. We shared a bowl of Miso Ramen Soup with noodles, bean sprouts, cabbage, crispy garlic slices, scallions and shredded chicken. The broth was heavenly with the perfect amount of heat and spice for the cold fall day (and the draft from the open door) and fortunately for me, Nora occupied herself with the noodles and I devoured almost everything else. We both left satisfied.

Since that fateful bowl of noodles with Nora I had been trying to get back to the city for another go. The planets aligned courtesy of the annual NJ Teacher’s Convention and a comp day from work. This time Thibault was my lunch date. Again, there was no traffic at the tunnel and we parked neatly in a spot on Perry Street in the West Village just as the Monday & Thursday a.m. street cleaner was pulling out – a beautiful thing! Thibault’s game plan for the day involved roaming the East Village and Soho. That was all fine with me as long as we got the noodles. I even chose them over the Kandinsky show which honestly, I now regret. We started the day by spontaneously meeting Elizabeth, who was able to pause briefly in her pre-wedding insanity for a cup of coffee on Jane Street. As we left for Ippudo, she warned us to be prepared to wait for a table but insisted that it would be well worth it. So off we went, fueled with her vivid and highly detailed descriptions of the delights that awaited us. After a brisk walk across town we arrived. At first I was concerned that they were closed. No one was outside and no one was inside at the bar. We walked in and were seated immediately. Harmonic convergence!

The hostess led us to the dining space in the back where we were greeted with a loud chorus of shouts from the line of cooks in the open kitchen, the first indication that this would be a meal and an experience. We soon learned that each and every diner was met with the same boisterous enthusiasm. We were seated at a large communal table for twelve that filled and emptied twice while we were there. I tend to shy away from these in general for the same reason that I don’t like B&B’s (and the reason that my husband loves them) and dread airplane travel. I am fine with brief, polite pleasantries but hate lengthy superficial small talk with strangers. I am more of an in-depth person. I needn’t have worried since these were New Yorkers and they were there for the food.

We ordered an iced green tea for Thibault and a glass of cold sake for me and had the Hirata Buns to start things off. These were simply heavenly. The bread was almost bizarrely light in the hand when picked up, and held a small amount of shredded pork moistened with a savory slightly, spicy sauce and a crunch of ice berg lettuce. I ate my bun in the slowest, smallest bites to make it last.

For lunch, Thibault had the Hakata Classic Ramen, “the original tonkotsu soup noodles,” served with slices of Berkshire pork, kikurage (seaweed), red pickled ginger, menma (bamboo shoots), hard-boiled egg, and sprinkled generously with sesame seeds and scallions. I tried the Yokohama Ramen, a new dish with many of the same ingredients with the addition of nori (seaweed), cabbage, and fried garlic and without the egg and sesame seeds. Thibault’s broth was mild and miso-based. Mine was very rich and intensely pork-based and, had I realized, I surely would not have ordered it. I’m just not that into pork. But both were excellent and pure pleasure, and we drained our bowls. We left Ippudo warm and content, but while after lunch at Rai Rai Ken my thoughts returned endlessly to noodles, I find that now my thoughts turn more frequently to pork buns. They just blew me away.

Late this winter, Dad and I spent a cold morning wandering through Chelsea galleries looking at art and working up good appetites. Still thinking about ramen and pork buns, I nonchalantly suggested we have some noodles at a place I wanted to try. We grabbed a cab and headed across town to Momofuko, the third stop in my noodle quest. I don’t think Dad minded. The food was unusual and excellent and so was the people-watching! We celebrated the day in NYC with glasses of sake (who knew how much there is to learn about sake?) and started lunch with a shared order of Sautéed Tuscan Kale served in an amazing, almost sweet, pork broth with slivers of fennel and pickled crosnes. Crosnes!! Also known as Chinese artichokes, they are crunchy, and a member of the mint family. They taste like Jerusalem artichokes and look like grubs. The last time I saw them was at a farmer’s market in France. Anyway, this little appetizer dish was a great start to lunch. Dad picked up a pair of chopsticks and dove in like a pro! The kale was followed by Steamed Pork Buns – soft, white mitts gently cradling sauced, glistening slabs of unctuous fatty pork with thin slices of fresh pickled cucumbers. Yummy.

We both selected the Ginger Scallion Noodles for our main course. They came in bowls with lots of pickled shitake mushrooms and cucumbers, scallions, herbs and seaweed. I had assumed that all of the noodle dishes were “ramen” but in fact only one of the three offerings came with the fragrant broth I was anticipating, and it was being enjoyed by the people next to us. It was all good though, as the ginger noodles were delicious and thoroughly enjoyed by us both. We ended the meal with a tiny (by American standards) cup of banana bread soft serve ice cream!

I have since returned twice more to Momofuko, and it is my favorite of the three for its inventiveness and the fabulous quality of the locally-sourced ingredients.

Rai Rai Ken: 214 East 10^th Street, NYC between 1^st & 2^nd Avenue

Ippudo: 65 4th Avenue, NYC (212) 388-0088 www.ippudo.com

Momofuko Noodle Bar: 171 First Avenue, NYC http://www.momofuku.com/noodle/default.asp

Costa Rican Escape: What’s There to Eat?

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 01:16:00 +0000

This winter we had the good fortune to spend one perfect week in paradise. Twelve of us, ages six and up, gathered in Costa Rica in celebration of Mom and Dad’s upcoming 50^th wedding anniversary and Dad’s 75^th birthday. The indefatigable and ever-optimistic Oscar was our guide for the week and Giovanni, our driver, was his trusty sidekick. Early on we learned about “pura vida,” the national expression and general attitude towards life. It seems to be used along the lines of “life is great” and really expressed the optimistic outlook of the “Ticos.” I even heard people greeting each other with “Pura vida!” instead of the usual “Buenas.” Oscar translated it with the obscure “hunky dory” which he pronounced honky. We had a lot of laughs over the appropriateness of his version when applied to our gringo tourist group.

We stayed in Manuel Antonio in beautiful octagonal “casas” built into a steep mountain slope leading down to the Pacific Ocean. I mentioned the part about good fortune, right?! When we arrived the first night and got out to unload the bus, an actual sloth was there to greet us, hanging on the railing of the nearest casa! Over the next three days we visited this peaceable, slow-moving creature and even patted it.

The best feature of these perfect dwellings was a large wrap-around veranda, more of an outdoor living room complete with dining area, grill (okay, it was a George Forman electric grill but I’m not complaining), comfy swivel chairs and foot stools, and a hot tub. When we were at home, most of our time was spent here reading, talking and gazing at the view, always watching for brightly-colored birds, sloths, iguanas and and listening to the sounds of the tropical forest. From this perch I also watched the sun rise each morning.

For me the landscape was almost primordial and when I imagine North America in the days when dinosaurs roamed New Jersey, this is how I picture it - huge, exotic versions of my houseplants on hormones, seductively-shaped bright and flashy and garish-anywhere-else flowers, over-sized leaves and an abundance of erotic fruits. Appropriately, the film Jurassic Park was shot in Costa Rica.

We spent a lot of time at our little private beach at and explored other area beaches as well. The water was bath tub warm and very salty and buoyant with some serious waves. We also took full advantage of the activities offered to tourists including kayaking in the mangrove forest (where we saw roseate spoonbill, egrets, white-faced monkeys, poison dart frogs and tiger crabs), hiking the “sloth path” in the national forest, a strange night-time flashlight hike in (successful) search of noisy gladiator frogs and red-eyed tree frogs, crocodiles and the like, and of course the amazing zip-line canopy tour! And we ate. Each casa had its own kitchen so many of our meals were taken at home. Breakfast for me was a cup of intense, aromatic CR coffee and a ridiculous amount of fresh, ripe papaya, mango, pineapple or passion fruit with a glass of a tropical fruit yogurt drink from “Super Joseth,” the local market up the road. I could eat that breakfast daily for life and never tire of it. Smelling the coffee brewing was just as good as drinking it. We also adopted the national dish of gallo pinto, black beans and rice. The Costa Rican version is spiced with cilantro, onions, garlic, salt, and doused with a local condiment called Salsa Lizano.

For lunch and dinner out we opted for “tipico” over touristy as often as possible. I loved the food and it is such a healthy diet. The national dish is casado - rice, beans, plantain, meat, chicken or fish, a vegetable (beets or taro or potato) and a cabbage slaw – which is perfectly balanced and nourishing and delicious. Both meat and beans are cooked with generous amounts of fresh cilantro and lime juice which give them a wonderful depth of flavor that was new to me. Restaurants offer pitchers of fresh juices like star fruit, passion fruit and cas (a local relative of the guava). Nora became quite the connoisseur of passion fruit in its raw and juice forms and still thinks of it back home in el Norte.

We had a great meal at Ronny’s Place located a mile or so up a narrow, pitted dirt road at the top of a mountain overlooking the Pacific. All of the restaurants in the area are open air with simply a roof but with no walls or windows. Most have long wooden tables and chairs. At Ronny’s I enjoyed tasty fish kebabs with rice and veggies and a bottle of Pilnser (as opposed to Pilsner), one of the brands of local beer. Dad had the local ceviche of sea bass that they serve with saltine crackers and hot sauce.

Another excellent meal was at a roadside place outside of Quepos where we stopped after kayaking. No one minded that we were sweaty, dirty and wet. I ordered the sea bass casado which was dreamy! Nothing tastes better or is more satisfying than unpretentious, traditional, dishes, this time washed down with Imperial, the other local beer. Clara had a frosty glass of cas spiked with rum while the girls sampled more passion fruit juice. In fact, I discovered that my sister was quite the tropical blender drink maven, whipping up fresh fruit with local Centenario rum every night before dinner and having a late afternoon nip of papaya and rum poolside. Hey, she lives in Maine and probably needs to store up those taste memories to assist in getting through the long winter!

We shopped in the supermarkets and fruit and vegetable markets in Quepos for dinner ingredients and had a great feast our first night of grilled chorizo, steamed chayote, tomato & cucumber salad and rice. Earlier we had spotted clusters of ripe star fruit growing on a tree next to our casa – Jamie managed to harvest them without tumbling down the cliff and I prepared them as Oscar suggested – ends and ribs trimmed, chopped and tossed with salt and pepper. They were like no star fruit I have ever tasted – tart and flavorful. Clearly all efforts to export them to the US should cease immediately. The same goes for the coffee. It even smelled better in Costa Rica than it did when I brewed the same beans at home. More and more I am convinced that food tastes and memories involve much more than flavor.

One day, returning from the supermarket in Quepos on the bus, I saw a man taking langoustines out of a cooler in the back of a pickup truck on the side of the road. After conferring briefly with Clara I asked our driver, Giovanni, to pull over. We left with 4 kilos of langoustines and shrimp for the surprise birthday dinner for Dad that night! They were delicious grilled on the veranda on the little GF. Dessert was the celebrated Tres Leches cake (heavy cream, evaporated milk and sweet condensed milk). Nascar hats and decorations from Maine added a festive American air to the evening.

We wound up an amazing week in paradise with a surprise New Year’s Eve anniversary dinner for Mom and Dad at the locally-renown El Avion, a restaurant built on a cliff over the sea literally over and around an intact Fairchild C-123 airplane. The cargo plane was used during the Iran Contra Affair of the 80's under the Reagan Administration, ole Ollie North and the CIA. The bar is in the body of the plane and tables are set up under the wings! As the sun set, we had more festive decorations, noise makers and a long series of little gifts for the guests of honor over dinner. Dessert was a special chocolate cake emblazoned with the words “Pura Vida, Honkey Dorey.” Perfect!

Tres Leches Cake

3/4 cup butter, softened
1 1/2 cups white sugar
9 egg yolks
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 cup milk
9 egg whites
1 teaspoon cream of tartar
2 cups heavy whipping cream
1 (5 ounce) can evaporated milk
1 (14 ounce) can sweetened condensed milk
2 cups heavy whipping cream
1 cup white sugar

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Grease and flour a 9x13 inch pan.

2. In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add the egg yolks one at a time, beating well with each addition, then stir in the vanilla. Sift together the flour and baking powder. Add the flour mixture alternately with the milk; beat well after each addition. In a large glass or metal mixing bowl, beat egg whites and cream of tartar until whites form stiff peaks. Gently fold the egg whites into the cake batter using a rubber spatula. Spread the mixture evenly into the prepared pan.

3. Bake in the preheated oven for 25 to 30 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the cake comes out clean. Allow to cool.

4. In a small bowl, stir together the 2 cups heavy cream, evaporated milk and sweetened condensed milk. Pour the mixture over the cake until it wont absorb any more. You may have 1/3 to 1/4 left over. That's okay.

5. Combine the whipped cream and sugar, spread over soaked cake. Refrigerate cake until serving, Pour leftover milk mixture onto plates and swirl in jam if desired, before setting cake on the plates.

Eating out in New Orleans, over and over again

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 12:35:00 +0000

Elizabeth and Bryant’s destination wedding last month gave us the perfect excuse to visit New Orleans for the first time. I was not expecting to like it as much as I did. And the food blew me away.

Shortly after arriving at our hotel (International House Hotel http://ihhotel.com/), we met up with Mom and Dad, cousin Will, wife Martha, Hodge and the sweetest new addition to the family, baby Thea, and headed out in search of food. We walked a great distance through the French Quarter before landing at the French Market Restaurant and Bar (no website) at 1001 Decatur Street where we were seated outdoors on the second story porch in the welcome Southern sun. I jumped right in with some New Orleans oysters on the half shell along with a cup of gumbo. The oysters were incredibly fresh and enormous! I actually had to cut one in half because I wasn’t sure I could manage to eat it whole. The gumbo was fine but nothing mind-blowing. Sylvain had a muffaletta sandwich (http://www.gumbopages.com/food/samwiches/muff.html), ticking off one of his culinary goals for NOLA early on. Basically this is similar to N.J. Italian subs (mortadella, ham, Genoa salami, Mozzarella, Provolone) but with “olive salad” instead of our lettuce, tomato, onion, oil and vinegar. He loved it.

I can’t remember the last time I had one, but I also ordered a Bloody Mary. I am a tomato juice drinker. I love V8. Always have. On the other hand, I have never been a big Bloody Mary drinker, and this one was unlike any other I’d had. Never have I seen so much black pepper in one place, and throughout the weekend shocking amounts of it continued to appear on my plate and in my glass. I’m talking about giant cracked peppercorns, not the finely ground stuff we use up North. There was also a generous amount of horseradish and Tabasco and spicy, pickled green beans stuck jauntily straight out of the cup. That Bloody Mary hit the spot dead on. I did not know it at the time, but this was the beginning of a theme. The weekend would be punctuated by “signature cocktails,” and clearly I had found mine.

The Rehearsal Dinner was held at the Napoleon House, home of the Mayor of New Orleans in the early 1800’s. He offered the place to Napoleon in exile and created “L’apartement de l’Empereur” for the occasion. Of course we know that Napoleon never made it to New Orleans, and the lavish second floor apartment is where private parties are held. It is also where Sylvain discovered his now beloved Pimm’s Cup, the signature drink of the evening. I tried one, but with lemonade and 7up as ingredients, it was too sweet for me. Sylvain made up for that by downing them throughout the evening and talking about them incessantly when he wasn’t drinking them. According to the Napoleon House, Pimm’s was created in 1840 in England, and claims to be "made to James Pimm's original recipe, a closely guarded secret known only to six people."

Moving on, we enjoyed passed hors d’oeuvres including crawfish in puff pastry, beef fillet, cheese in puff pastry, mini muffalettas, and crab cakes. For dinner we had pre-selected from a choice of three dishes (thank you Elizabeth for the descriptions). I had the “Pesce Don Giuseppe.” This was breaded, sautéed redfish topped with lump crabmeat and shrimp, finished with mushrooms and artichoke hearts in a lemon butter sauce – a traditional New Orleans fish preparation. Sylvain had the “Chicken Marengo” as I knew he would once I had read the description! Supposedly, Napoleon demanded a quick meal after his victory at The Battle of Marengo, and his chef was forced to work with meager, foraged results: a chicken (and some eggs), tomatoes, onions, garlic, herbs, olive oil, and crawfish. The chef cut up the chicken (with a saber, bien sûr), fried it in olive oil, made a sauce from the tomatoes, garlic and onions (plus a bit of cognac from Napoleon's flask), cooked the crawfish, fried the eggs and served them as a garnish, with some of the soldier's bread ration on the side. Napoleon reportedly liked the dish and (having won the battle) considered it lucky. The third dish was simply “Grilled Filet of Beef with Seasonal Vegetables” which looked tasty. Not surprisingly, Napoleons were served for dessert.

After such a copious meal and those trick wine glasses that are never empty, we welcomed the walk back to the hotel. By now the streets were packed with the revelers who are attracted to New Orleans, Mardi Gras or no Mardi Gras. They even seemed to think it was Mardi Gras, dressed in colorful hats and beads, blowing noise makers. It was all very festive. We returned to the hotel, stopping first for one last Pimm’s Cup in the hotel bar before retiring for the night.

Since I don’t sleep much past 5 or 6 a.m., and Sylvain has risen early for work all of his life, we were up early and ready for a power walk and daylight exploration of New Orleans with Mom, another early riser. It was a beautiful morning and all of the streets were freshly washed and disinfected in preparation for the start of another day of revelry. Through open doors along the route we saw that most bars already had a patron or two by 8:30 a.m. Our destination was the Café du Monde, renowned for their beignets and the classic New Orleans chicory and coffee blend. We ordered two of each and were not disappointed! The beignets arrived, hot, perfect and sinful, a crisp, fried exterior with a light, almost cakey interior and a mild taste of buttermilk, with a crazy amount of confectioner’s sugar dumped on them that ended up all over us. There is something very sensual about eating in New Orleans, and this breakfast was exemplary – rich and finger-licking messy.

Walking all morning helped us to justify an early lunch at the well-known and popular Acme Oyster House. We sat at the bar. I ordered an oyster po’ boy sandwich with a side of Tabasco mayonnaise and Sylvain had half a smoked sausage po’ boy with a cup of gumbo. I felt that we had to try the fried crawfish tails as well . I knew I would regret leaving New Orleans without having done so. It didn’t occur to me at the time to leave them for another visit. They were addictive but a bit overwhelmed by the batter and the intense “remoulade” served with them. But the po’ boy more than lived up to my expectations with a ton of fresh, fried oysters slathered with the spicy mayo cradled in the classic, soft loaf. I am a little embarrassed to admit that I ate the entire sandwich, washed down with the spiciest Bloody Mary ever (garnished with a massive pickled okra!). And it was worth it. My only regret is that it made my dress for the black tie evening somewhat more of a challenge to get into…

The wedding was held at the 1826 Beauregard-Keyes House, built for wealthy auctioneer Joseph Le Carpentier and named for two of its former residents, Confederate General Pierre Gustave Toutant (P.G.T.) Beauregard and author Frances Parkinson Keyes. It was an intimate and beautiful setting. Judge Mary “K.K.” Norman a.k.a. “The Love Judge” (http://www.nola.com/living/index.ssf/2008/02/the_love_judge_valentines_day.html) officiated, intense bling peeking out from beneath her robes.

The bride was beyond stunning and the ceremony was very personal and a privilege to assist in. Elizabeth processed on Dad’s arm to the sounds of the wonderful Cool Bone playing La Vie En Rose. Following the service, the musicians and new bride and groom led the entire wedding party through the streets to the reception. This was an incredible experience as our wedding “parade” in black tie was joined by what in NOLA is called the “second line,” which includes anyone and everyone along the route. There were catcalls and applause. Some people danced and sang as we passed, others called out words of advice or caution to the groom, and still others joined in the procession which ended at Latrobe’s on Royal.

What an incredible space and the food was excellent! The signature cocktail of this evening was the French 74, a potent combination of gin and Champagne. Passed hors d’oeuvres during the cocktail hour included deviled quail eggs, mini polenta rounds topped with baby shrimp, duck confit on a sweet potato chip, and a perfect fried oyster with horseradish in a paper cone. The traditional New Orleans dinner was heavenly but the servings were too generous to finish properly!

The Menu

Creole crawfish bisque finished with crawfish boulettes

Baby greens with poached figs, pistachios, grapes and feta in fig vinaigrette

Southern pork trio: pork cassoulet with pork confit, roasted pork loin with rosemary & garlic, and pork crackling.

Beignets with chocolate sauce

Groom’s cake (red velvet with chocolate icing)

I really did my best, but even Sylvain could not manage to finish every glorious course! At the end of the evening we said our goodbyes to Elizabeth and Bryant and joined the crowd on the sidewalk where sparklers were being distributed and Cool Bone was now playing. The sparklers were fired up and the happy bride and groom ran through the crowd and jumped into the waiting white Bentley, driving off into the night. It was a beautiful wedding and an unforgettable party!

The next day was Sunday, bringing our sojourn to an end. Not to be outdone by the Porter cousin clan who had dined at the famous Brennan’s the previous morning, Mom, Dad, Sylvain and I headed to brunch at the Court of Two Sisters at the suggestion of Willie at the hotel. He did not steer us wrong!

This is where the story becomes one of truly embarrassing excess. We sat in a beautiful outdoor courtyard and enjoyed a pitcher of Mimosas before partaking of the buffet. Out table was next to a statue of the two sisters themselves in their topless, nipple-pinching glory. A nice jazz band played and we were further entertained by the filming of a Travel Channel segment with Samantha Brown at a nearby table.

For my first “course” I sampled sea slaw (basically Cole slaw with crab – yummy), cold, steamed shrimp with the famous remoulade sauce, wonderful sweet potato salad, and generously peppered poached salmon.

My second course included scrambled eggs from the grill, bananas Foster, Cajun cornbread stuffing, a crêpe, lean bacon and a slice of smoked Cajun sausage. My eyes were truly bigger than my stomach at this point and I could only taste what I had selected from the hot buffet. I should have skipped from the first course to the last as these were the most memorable.

I wrapped things up with irresistible grapes in cream (red grapes tossed in sour cream), a slice of coconut cake and some fresh pineapple chunks. Phew!

After one last walk through the streets of the old French quarter, we returned to the hotel to finish packing, we grabbed a taxi to the airport. We dropped off Sylvain’s rented tux on our way there, signaling the return to a more mundane existence. But what a treat it was to step away from the day-to-day, dress up in party clothes and enter another world for a bit, and as a twosome, while sending two people off to make a new life for themselves.

Muffuletta Olive Salad Recipe

1-1/2 cups green olives, pitted
1/2 cup Calamata olives, pitted
1 cup Gardiniera (pickled cauliflower, carrots, celery, Pepperoncini)
1 Tbsp. capers
3 each fresh garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1/8 cup celery, thinly sliced
1 Tbsp. Italian parsley, finely chopped
1 Tbsp. fresh oregano or 2 tsp. dried
1 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
3 Tbsp. red wine vinegar
1/4 cup roasted red peppers
1 Tbsp. green onions, thinly sliced
Kosher salt & freshly ground pepper to taste

Crush each olive on a cutting board with your hand. Combine all ingredients. Cover with Extra Virgin Olive Oil (about 1 – 1 1/2 Cups).

Put into a bowl or jar, cover and let the flavors marry for about one week.

Napoleon House Pimm’s Cup Recipe

Fill a tall 12 oz glass with ice and add 1 1/4 oz. Pimm's #1 and 3 oz lemonade. Then top off with 7up.
Garnish with cucumber.

French 75 Cocktail

Named after a WWI 75 millimeter howitzer cannon, the French 75 is supposedly the only cocktail invented in the United States during Prohibition to become a classic.

In a cocktail shaker, combine 3 oz. gin, 3 oz. lemon juice, 4 tsp. sugar, and 1-1/2 cup ice cubes and shake to chill. Strain cocktails into 2 wine or Champagne glasses and top off with 1 cup Champagne.

Acme Oyster House

http://www.acmeoyster.com/

Beauregard-Keyes House

http://www.bkhouse.org/

Café du Monde

http://www.cafedumonde.com/

Cool Bone Jazz Band

http://www.coolbone.com/

Court of Two Sisters

http://www.courtoftwosisters.com/

Latrobe’s on Royal

http://www.latrobesonroyal.com/

Napoleon House

http://www.napoleonhouse.com/index.html

Estia’s Little Kitchen: Welcome Simplicity

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 01 Sep 2009 01:03:00 +0000

For years Mom and Dad have talked about Estia’s Little Kitchen, an unassuming little spot on the Bridgehampton-Sag Harbor Turnpike and a favorite of theirs. Some how we have never managed to get there in the nearly ten years since they opened. This time the planets aligned and the four of us made a last minute reservation for 7:30 p.m. On a Saturday night no less. And it was nice to spend time with Mom and Dad without the little darlings. Now that I think of it, it must have been even nicer for Mom and Dad no matter how much they love them.

Estia’s is basically a tiny two-room shack with a small bar and fish-themed artwork. Local ingredients abound and there is a strong Latin American influence on the dishes. We ordered a bottle of “Grapes of Roth” Riesling (that’s right) that Sylvain and I had sampled at the Sag Harbor farmers market earlier in the day (okay, it was about 9:30 a.m.).

For appetizers Dad and I had the Mexican Mussels which were steamed in a lightly spiced tomatillo broth and topped with narrow strips of fried tortillas – a surprising combination that worked really well. My mouth is actually watering at the memory! I am going to work on reproducing it. Sylvain had a Crabmeat Napoleon, interpreted with generous dollops of crabmeat and guacamole layered on three stories of large tortilla chips. Mom had the Ensalada de Casita in citrus vinaigrette which clearly was assembled from local veggies. I wish that our restaurants in New Jersey would get on the local foods bandwagon at least in the summer when we also have an incredible variety of seasonal produce available.

Mom and I ordered the Striped Bass with Arugula as a main course served with large roasted yellow tomato halves, a sweet counter balance to the peppery arugula. Dad had sautéed ocean scallops served with pesto over home-made fettuccine and Sylvain ordered the Paella. Later I was thinking that it seemed like each dish had no more than three primary flavors, very simple and very pure.

The dessert selection didn’t have much that appealed to me as most involved wheat which I must now avoid. I did feel that we should try the vanilla flan, hoping for the eggy, burnt sugar flavored authentic version that I enjoyed first in Brasil and then over the years in different countries. It was sweet and very tasty, but for me it seemed a bit dumbed-down for American palates, lacking the bite I was hoping for.

In all, the food was simple and quite good with most dishes made from a minimum of ingredients, all of them incredibly fresh. The service was warm and the setting was wonderfully and refreshingly unpretentious all things considered!

Estia’s Little Kitchen

1615 Sag Harbor Bridge Hampton Turnpike Sag Harbor NY - 2 miles West of Village
telephone: 631 725 1045

http://estiaslittlekitchen.com/index.htm

http://estiaslittlekitchen.com/blog.htm

Almond: Beautiful Food in Bridgehampton

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 00:05:00 +0000

It is only infrequently that we eat out over our summer vacation in Bridgehampton. Generally we try to avoid the crowds as much as possible and hole up at home where we enjoy wonderful meals gleaned from local farmers markets, farm stands and fish markets. I have written in the past about the growing local foods movement here (A Week in Bridgehampton), a great boon to those of us who come for the beauty of the spot and not the beautiful people.

But especially on vacation, a night out is a welcome break from cooking for twelve! One evening Mom and Dad offered to feed the kids so that Sylvain, Clara, Dan and I could enjoy dinner out. Almond has been around for years. In the 80’s it was The Woodshed and served basic seafood (I remember the steamed mussels and the soft shell crab) but was more known as a watering hole than for its food. Before that it was hippie central and actually called The Grotto of the Purple Grape, a name that really impressed me and conjured up imagined exotic grooviness that I was too young for. The 00’s incarnation strives more for French farmhouse than hashish den, and it tries only a tiny bit too hard. Out of respect for my late mother-in-law Jeanette, I must say that French dish towels do not napkins make and croque monsieur does not belong on a restaurant dinner menu. But these are minor details noticed by a Frenchman that have no bearing on the good food prepared with ingredients come from the rich array of local North and South Fork sources.

We started with glasses of rosé for the women and beers for the men and a round of appetizers. After much internal debate involving the charred squid, I ended up choosing the citrus-marinated sardine salad with hearts of palm and avocado. It was tasty, but based on the description I was expecting fresh sardines cured with lemon juice, a simple and perfect summer recipe that I love. At first I couldn’t understand why the fish wasn’t soft enough to pull apart with my fork and required a knife! The flavors were all good but I was a little disappointed. Clara ordered the charred squid salad that came with a tapenade crouton and other goodies that it was too dark to identify properly. Dan had a salad of mixed greens served with some nice-looking chèvre croutons and Sylvain had a Greek salad of all local ingredients topped with soft, caramelized red onions. He ate half of it before I could get a photo and never offered me even a small taste. I am operating on the assumption that it was good! Sharing food has long been a sore spot in our marriage but I acknowledge that we have made some good progress over the years.

There were several tasty-sounding fish main courses on the menu to choose from. I ordered the Wild-Caught Grilled Shrimp - five large, meaty fellows skewered with woody rosemary stalks served over a salad of diced cucumbers and tomatoes, sylvetta greens (a relative of arugula I am told by chef Jason Weiner) and dried chickpeas drizzled with a dill yogurt sauce made from local goat’s milk. The shrimp were perfectly cooked with just the right flavor and heat from harissa. I was happy and as I looked around the table felt neither regrets about what was on my plate nor envy of other people’s choices. I love when that happens.

Clara had the whole striped bass, a special. Striped bass is available locally this time of year and seems to be on every menu. It strikes a nice balance – delicate but meaty, flavorful but not oily- can handle a savory marinade and takes well to grilling. Dan can vouch for the quality of Almond’s traditional Steak Frites which by all appearances he thoroughly enjoyed. Pork or duck on a menu attract Sylvain with a powerful, apparently irresistible pull. He ordered the Pork Belly which, after much discussion, we agreed was a cut similar to bacon. I’ve never had it before, imaging more fat than lean, but it was good (I was permitted a nibble) and not at all what I expected, served with gorgeous, falling-apart tender roasted red onions.

In a strange twist on the usual theme, Sylvain and Dan skipped dessert and Clara and I ordered Chocolate Pots de Crème. Our desserts arrived in cute Italian espresso cups. It turned out that they were not really pots de crème, which are baked in a bain marie and have the consistency of an intense custard. These were far lighter and had the texture of a mousse. I didn’t mind because they made for a less gluttonous end to the meal and they were delicious, topped with light whipped cream and sprinkled with chopped salted almonds. The flavors of deep chocolate, sweet cream and salty nuts worked beautifully together and the textures were just as pleasing. Fortunately I did not suffer through the watery, tired decaf as Clara had to, and enjoyed the perfect end to a very nice meal.

http://www.almondrestaurant.com/

Strawberry Distraction

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 10:35:00 +0000

It has been a tough year in the world where I spend the majority of my time and in the other worlds that are squeezed into the rest of my waking hours. And sometimes the non-waking ones as well. Often, the overall stress is just too much and I just want to get as far away as possible from conferences about the impact of the economy on non-profits and how to survive it, emergency meetings about raising money to keep the school open, stress at home about paychecks and bill-paying, funerals for loved ones at the natural end of their lives and funerals for beautiful boys who should still be with us, worried conversations with teachers and guidance counselors and therapists, back pain and stress and the myriad attempts at relief. I WANT IT ALL TO STOP.

Deep breath.

Strawberries.

They are not even my favorite fruit, but something about them is different, special. Something about strawberries takes me deep inside myself where it is quiet and things are simple and have not yet become complicated. It is late spring in Brookside, N.J. and there are tiny wild strawberries on a small hillside above the little brook that flows through the backyard. They appear each year and bring with them the beauty and reassurance of the changing seasons, and their own innate delicate sweetness. They will not be cheapened! They cannot be purchased!

It occurs to me now that over the years I have always had a couple of strawberry plants bearing these tiny Alpine gems in pots or beds and fraises des bois continue to have a place in my life to this day. We have several plants in a sunny bed where we live now and they bear fruit around the time of Nora's birthday. She is sure that they are just for her. There are precious few and they are more valued because only one or two ripen each day, and then there is an end to it. Sometimes there is only one and we share it.

I've never had much success or put any real effort into growing the larger varieties of strawberries. We buy them in season at local stands in Changewater, Pittstown and Oldwick and at the supermarket when all else fails. But there is a firmness, a toughness and tartness to the supermarket varieties (surely required to survive the truck ride from California or Central America) compared to the local straws that are so wonderfully fragrant, soft to the bite and unbearably sweet on the tongue.

When Maxwell's self-service stand started selling strawberries earlier this month, I got over there quickly. Too often my timing is off and they are cleaned out. I was going to buy a quart or two at $5 each but only had a $20. When this happens, I usually write crazy notes to the farmer (who I have never met) about how much I still owe him and when I'll come back with cash or how much he owes me in produce because I have overpaid. Instead, this time somehow I ended up leaving there with four quarts of strawberries.

I found a recipe in Anna Pump's "Summer on a Plate" cookbook that called for two quarts of strawberries. It was unbelievable - the reddest dessert ever with intense, intense strawberry flavor. I will never think of "red" in the same way again! Sadly, I did not take a picture so I will have to make it again. We melted a bar of semi-sweet Ghiradelli chocolate and made chocolate-dipped strawberries with the third quart and kept the fourth on hand for eating plain. I made batches of chocolate-dipped strawberries several more times in June. Oddly, I had never made them before this year. Nothing is easier or tastes better. We had them again for Nora's birthday along with a Strawberry Shortcake made by Mom.

Chocolate-dipped Strawberries

1 bar (4 oz.) semi-sweet Ghiradelli chocolate or your favorite

1 quart local farmstand strawberries

1.) Wash the strawberries by filling a clean sink with cold water and soaking them in it a bit. Swish them around to remove all grit. Lift the berries out of the sink and onto a dish towel spread on the counter. Dry gently by placing another towel over them.

2.) Place a sheet of waxed paper on a cookie sheet.

3.) Melt the chocolate in a small double boiler over simmering water. Stir with a wooden spoon until melted and glossy.

4.) Hold the strawberries by the stems and dip them in the chocolate. Place them on the cookie sheet and let cool or refrigerate for 1/2 hour before eating. They are best eaten the same day.

Pamplona: a night out with "the girls"

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 16 May 2009 10:24:00 +0000

Long-awaited and yet worth the wait, I spent the evening with Martha, Marisa and Julie Saturday night. We came from different points and met at Lillie’s on 17th Street, a new “Irish Victorian” bar. It is named for the famous British actress and renowned beauty Lillie Langtry who was nicknamed the “Jersey Lily.” This is a brand new, gorgeous space where a ton of money was spent to make it look as if it has been there forever. Their tagline is “celebrating friendship the old-fashioned way,” which apparently means drinking beer and watching soccer, seemingly incongruous activities for the feminine-leaning surroundings. But we were four women reunited for a night out, drinking beer and watching the Preakness so maybe they are on to something? I had a tasty Belgian Leffe Blonde. We toasted each other and all agreed that for a variety of individual reasons, we needed this night out and we welcomed the gift of stepping through a very small window into a space away from daily stress.

From Lillie’s we headed north to Pamplona on East 28th Street for modern Spanish bistro fare. From the street there is not much to catch your eye. The narrow front is all glass but it looks dark within. I admit to feeling an awful discouragement when we walked in at 7:15 to a quiet and nearly empty dining room. It was the sinking feeling of a former restauranteur on a deathly slow Saturday night and of a diner fearing she has made a poor choice of restaurant. Fortunately for all concerned, the place was noisy and packed to overflowing by the time we left a couple of hours later.

After a brief discussion of the merits of red vs. white wine and red vs. white Sangria, we ordered a pitcher of white for the table and then chose a selection of tapas and a couple of media raciones (medium plates) to share. Sliced baguette rounds arrived in short order with a dish of delicious garlicky, bright green olive oil. We dove in while debating the merits of Facebook. The initiated (Julie and I) regaled the resistant, non-converted with stories of our Kenyon “friends.”

We had no trouble at all choosing from the small menu – almost everything sounded good – but did struggle to divide some of the small dishes four ways. Marisa gave it a true College try but was just not up to the task. Thankfully Martha was there with her ample tennis muscles that left her able to slice right through the skewers on the pinchos without breaking a sweat! Julie was not asked to do any tasks requiring the use of two hands as she needed to clasp one at the neck of her too-revealing sweater at all times to keep public sightings of “the girls” to a minimum.

In no time the dishes started arriving and there really wasn’t a dud among them. We started with a thick wedge of Tortilla de Patatas with slices of Jamon Serrano. I need to find out how they make this. It is described as a “frittata” on the menu but was so different from one. We also had Buñuelos de Queso, fabulously airy fried little balls of Iberico and Manchego cheese, and Pincho de Datiles, a personal favorite. I had them at a party this week and would eat them constantly if given the chance. Like all of the best food, they are deceivingly simple in terms of ingredients but complex in flavor mixing sweet and salty with textures that are meltingly soft and crispy. We all loved these!

The Pincho de Chorizo y Gambas (chorizio and shrimp served on those pesky skewers)came resting on goat cheese toasts – another great combination of tastes. Bocadillo de Pato was like a grilled Panini filled with braised Duck and creamy chevre. The Gazpacho was a show-stopper and unlike any I’ve ever had. The broth was pale green with puréed avocado. Hidden beneath the surface were the more traditional cubes of cucumber, tomato, etc. and in the center of the bowl was a large dollop of a tangy yogurt sorbet. Yum.

Pulpo was one of the media raciones we ordered. I don’t like pretentious food and foam of any kind tops that list for me. That said, I will let Pamplona off the hook for two reasons. 1.) The chef (Alex Ureña) worked with foam king, Ferran Adria, himself. This is as good excuse as any I suppose but had the dish not been good, that fact alone would not have been enough. That brings me to the second reason. 2.) The dish was delicious with perfectly tender octopus served over a thick bed of lemony and tender potato confit. Yes, there was foam, but it was spring garlic foam that served a real purpose in the dish.

Finally, as we all agreed that we had little experience with Spanish cheese beyond Manchego, we ordered the Plato de Queso. There was one sheep’s and one cow’s milk cheese and two made from goat’s milk. The menu lists them as Mahon, Ahumado de Pria, Murcia al Vino & La Peral but honestly I do not know which was which. All were good but our favorite was the very aged, very moldy blue goat that’s flavor lingered on in the mouth. The cheese came with triangles of dense raisin nut bread and slices of fruit confit – was it apricot? quince?

If this seems like a lot of food, it was. And it wasn’t. We ate and ate but mostly in tastes and mouthfuls. This meant that there was room for dessert. We dipped long fried Churros y Canela in Valrhona chocolate sauce and shared an order of Tarta de Turrón, a chocolate and almond mousse tarte with an unusual consistency that came with creamy chocolate ice cream. The meal ended with two espressos and two cappuccinos and then it was into the night for the walk back to our vehicles further downtown.

Yes, the food at Pamplona was great, but it only enhanced what would already have been a great evening. Conversation flowed comfortably and touched on work, husbands, joys and concerns about our children and a discussion of what we were like at their ages (mostly worse in many ways), College classmate updates and of course, some exposé of former romantic adventures. Twice I laughed uncontrollably until I was near tears. I have to say that, in my world today, that outranks any meal.

http://newyork.timeout.com/articles/restaurants-bars/73685/lillies-union-square-bar-opening
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lillie_Langtry
http://www.pamplonanyc.com/

Life and Death in Champagne

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 03 May 2009 20:18:00 +0000

My father-in-law passed away recently and Sylvain and I quickly got our affairs in order to arrive in time for the Saturday funeral. Roland was sweet and loyal, loved his family and his Jeanette, laughter, Champagne, telling stories, and any excuse for food and fellowship. Like his father before him, he worked from young age as a "Caviste" in the cellars of Mumm Champagne. He was 87 when he died in his sleep at the home of his girlfriend, Reine, with whom he had recently been reunited after a separation of over 60 years.

It was a whirlwind weekend that combined activities that were practical, ceremonial, funny, uncomfortable, celebratory, and very sad, and an almost unending series of gatherings that centered around food, Champagne and reminiscing. Roland had said, "Quand je meurs, il faut boire du Champagne," and I am quite sure that he would not have been disappointed. As part of his retirement from Mumm he received 40+ of Champagne a year, so there was more than enough of the bubbly to go around.

Most of our meals were taken at the home my sister and brother-in-law, Marie Claude and François, where we were staying - they were simple meals. But this is France and the simplest meal far exceeds the American equivalent. After the Protestant funeral (general Catholic consensus deemed the church oddly austere but the service and pastor nice) everyone came back to the house to toast Roland with glasses of Mumm accompanied by sliced brioche. Nothing could have tasted better! Afterwards, the family stayed on for a late lunch of celeri remoulade, grated carrot, and cous cous salads, followed by platters of sliced hard sausage, ham and pâté, and finally by a selection of cheeses (Gruyere, Camembert and Munster). For dessert, plates of thick wedges of flan were passed around the table.

On Sunday we dined with both of Sylvain's siblings and their spouses at La Taverne de Mâitre Kanter, an Alsatian restaurant chain found throughout Europe. I admit that because I knew it was a chain and had seen it just off one of the many rond points in the industrial zone surrounding the city, I was not predisposed to like it. Call me a snob, but I had scary visions of TGI Friday and Ruby Tuesday. I couldn't have been more wrong. I should have known it would be good when François (a true connoisseur) recommended the oysters. With it's Tudor-style exterior, strategically-placed storks, tiled table tops and green-stemmed glasses, it is what the French call a restaurant théme.

I started with a half dozen n˚ 3 Fines de Claires oysters from the Atlantic served on two tiers, the oysters on ice above and slices of brown bread, butter and the traditional sauce mignonette below. Accompanied by a Pinot Gris from Alsace, they perfectly hit the spot. Sylvain had a green salad with chevre toasts that were obscenely voluptuous and trying very hard to distract me from my oysters.

For our main courses, we switched to a light and yummy Pinot Noir, also from Alsace. Though my own French ancestors came from Alsace Lorraine in the 1800's, up to this point I had been completely ignorant of this culinary region and what I knew of it was never enough to tempt me. Now that I had no choice, I decided to try Flammeküche, a flat bread with a very, very thin crust topped with chunks of pungent Munster cheese, tiny slivers of ham and thinly sliced tender white onion. There were many other variations, but earlier in the weekend I had rediscovered the joys of good Munster. Okay, so now I love Flammekϋche.

François had steak (rare) and everyone else had either the traditional or the seafood Choucroute. I don't know what it is, but I can't even bear the thought of Choucroute. Now that I am unburdened of that dark secret I can freely admit that I have smelled it many times over the years as it is a popular dish for family meals in Champagne and throughout France, and based on that alone I did my best to avoid it (successfully until now). But here I was surrounded by four plates of the stuff. Talk about pungent! I sampled Sylvain's Choucroute aux Fruit de la Mer and to put it politely, it was not my favorite.

For dessert I went (uncharacteristically) for "Tout a la Framboise," a plate of raspberry sorbet, raspberry meringue, raspberries themselves and lots of plump squirts of whipped cream all drizzled with raspberry coulis. Francois had the profiteroles and everyone else had Creme Brulés.

After lunch we wandered through the cemetery, visiting the graves of family members from a variety of branches of related family trees. We stopped to see where Jean-Claude and Claudette will finally rest (ready and waiting and already engraved with their names and birth dates), and visited Roland's grave that was now covered with a riot of big, bright and beautiful floral displays, and a small heart of pink roses from his girlfriend.

From there we all returned to the house where we were joined by Sonia and Claire, two of Roland's granddaughters, Sebastien, Sonia's boyfriend, and Elsa, his great-granddaughter. By now it was now late afternoon and high time for les aperitifs! Out came dishes of salty snacks and eventually more Champagne - this time a magnum from 1993. And once more we raised our glasses to Roland.

http://www.mumm.com/

Bank34 with Old Friends

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 21 Mar 2009 10:26:00 +0000

Last night we had a great time and a fabulous meal at Bank34 on Division Street in Somerville. Life now is more often than not a point to point race, the points being work, school, sports, the kids' friends' homes, doctors' offices, etc. We parents cross paths briefly at the dinner table and at parent-teacher conferences and are subconsciously aware that someone else is asleep in the bed, our limited, hurried conversations dominated by the schedule ahead. Too often important things fall aside, things like old friends.

Somehow we were able to break the cycle and almost spontaneously met up with Larry and Martha after far too much time had passed. We caught up on families and friends and laughed. A lot. Bank34 is housed in an old bank building that has been transformed with color, light, flowing fabrics and large tropical fish into the perfect temple of Pan Asian cuisine.

I started out with an "oyster shot" which arrived in a tall, narrow glass garnished with a tiny lemon wedge. It looked a little like something out of a laboratory -swirling, cloudy and mysteriously tinted - but it smelled heavenly. I took a tentative sip before tossing it back. My mouth rejoiced in an incredible combination of flavor, scent, texture and temperature that brought together cold, spicy, fruity, smooth, and crunchy sensations with ponzu sauce, wasabi, oyster and roe -an auspicious start to the evening! I would go back to Bank34 even if the rest had been mediocre, just for more oyster shots. But the rest was just as good.

For an appetizer I ordered scallop and shrimp dumplings. They were so delicate-sweet-tender that they melted in my mouth. Their lightness was balanced by a dark and pungent, spicy dipping sauce. Yum. Martha had a delicious mountain of mango salad, clearly a riff on the traditional Thai Green Papaya Salad, something I always order when it is on the menu because I love it so much.

For dinner I chose the Baked Branzini which Larry recommended. I am afraid that something may be lost in translation with the menu descriptions because none sounded as good as they were on the plate or on the tongue. Everyone was pleased with their choices and the presentations were beautiful. My dish consisted of two fillets of branzini slathered with a spicy red coconut curry, baked in a banana leaf, and accompanied by sticky rice in its own small leaf packet and some grilled veggies.

I was too full to make a push for dessert and ordered a matcha green tea latte instead. It arrived frothy and sweet in a small ceramic cup. For me it was the perfect, dreamy end to my meal. The others savored desserts of green tea gelato, banana fritters, and mango and sticky rice with coconut milk.

Probably as a symptom of the times we live in, Bank34 was sadly empty for a Friday night. Check it out - it's a keeper!

http://www.bank34.com/

Bank34

34 Division Street

Somerville, NJ

(908) 722-9995

Da Filippo with my Figlio

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 01:40:00 +0000

Yesterday Sylvain and Nora disappeared into the March blizzard, he for France and she for New York, leaving me and Thibault with a night of our own. Where to go and what to eat were the pressing questions. Because of the bitter cold we ruled out sushi in favor of comfort food. I reccomended Da Filippo (Autentica Cucina Italiana) in Somerville as the only good, authentic Italian restaurant in New Jersey. Like many New Jersey Italians, Filippo is Sicilian, but his food reflects several regions of Italy.

For me it was a great treat to return to Filippo after several years, and for Thibault it was an initiation into true Italian cuisine. He has a wonderful love of food (his favorite sandwich as a two-year old was black olive tapenade and chevre on focaccia) and enjoys sushi, Indian, Thai and of course French cuisine, but his experience of Italian has been limited to what is available locally. Can you say, "standard Italian American?"

To get into the mood, we started with the bruscetta de la casa - simple toasted Italian bread with sliced tomatoes, garlic, basil and fresh parmesan - and a big bottle of sparkling Abruzza water.

For appetizers, Thibault ordered the braised artichoke special and I had the fritelle di rughetta - pan-fried arrugula with a creamy sauce of anchovies, garlic and parmesano-reggiano. Mine was unbelievably good as I knew it would be. Crispy but creamy, pungent but sweet. A heady and auspicious start to our meal! Thibault dispatched with his artichoke without complaint and with an audible groan of pleasure.

The appetizers tempted me more than the main courses, or maybe I had had one bruscetta too many. For dinner I ordered a double portion of the Sarde Fritte a Linguata, delicate, lightly battered and fried fresh sardines with a squeeze of lemon, and a side of meltingly tender but still bitter escarole with garlic and olive oil, and rosemary roasted potatoes. So good! Thibault has been on a gnocchi mission lately and ordered the hand-made ricotta Gnocchi con Sugo Bolognese which he happily devoured.

No dessert for La Signora but Thibault managed to find room for a plate of Profiteroles. He said liked the contrast of the cold cream filling with the warm chocolate sauce. I had a taste and he was right on.

In all, it was a great meal, good conversation and a lot of welcome laughter in the company of my son. As a parent, it is so satisfying to arrive at this place in time where my child and I are nearly peers and can enjoy each other's company as equals. And we listened to The Clash, nice and loud, all the way home.

http://www.dafilippos.com/

Real Food in Flemington

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 01 Feb 2009 11:59:00 +0000

Every once in a while I get an urge to head to Flemington to the Amish market for a big weekend "dinner." It is one of very few places that serves truly old-fashioned home cooking. Before sitting down at a booth in the unpretentious restaurant (okay, all it has going for it is a large wrap-around mural of PA. Dutch scenes), we stock up on some important items. The farm-raised meats and poultry are gorgeous and it is one of the few places that always has fresh rabbit, guinea hens, capon and duck available. Nice home-made sausages, smoked bacon and cold cuts as well.

The bakery's cakes are unbelieveable, especially the red velvet, and the pies are the best I've found with an excellent crust and not too sweet. We can never leave without one to put in the freezer to have on hand for the right moment. Whoopie pies are also critical. We brought some home for the kids and an extra one for Thibault's freind Laz to try along with a fabulously gooey nut-covered breakfast cake. On several occasions I have stopped by the market on a Saturday morning just as the apple and blueberry fritters are coming out. I can go for years and years without eating a doughnut, but these are to die for. Hot, sweet, fried perfection.

Other absolute must-haves are the pickles, and the Amish seem to pickle everything. Sylvain even tried pickled kielbasa. He said it was very good but I just can't get my mind around that. Generally I don't like sweet pickles as a rule but the lemon pickles are sweet and spicy with a unique flavor that I find addictive. They are not for everyone - Nora can't stand them.

I could go on and on about the hand-made pretzels and potato chips, fresh butter and farm cheeses. And then there is the fact that the market is run and staffed by the Amish. These people and their lifestyle hold such a fascination for the rest of us. A visit always leads to thoughts of the things that fill our lives and the choices we make.

We've been going to the restaurant for probably fifteen years now. The dinner buffet is a more recent addition dating to when the business changed hands several years back. We used to order mostly from the menu. Things like chicken and dumplings, biscuits with sausage gravy (Thibault's favorite), and pulled pork sandwiches. Everything came with sides of home-made potato chips and lemon pickles.

The buffet takes the Amish culinary experience to a new level with choices like slabs of delicious all-beef meatloaf, chicken thighs, chicken with dumplings, sliced pork loin, and turkey breast along with buttered broccoli, buttered sweet corn, buttered carrorts (yes, butter is a reccurrent theme) pureed potatoes, cheesy noodles (our name for them and Nora's favorite), baked beans and more! There also is a salad bar but it is nothing special. In fact we usually just get a big bowl of pickles and ignore the sad ice berg lettuce, grated carrots and trays of things covered in mayonaise. But every once in a while I will grab a pickled egg.

The dessert bar is a trip with a selection of "pudding" and tapioca. The kids' favorite is the eclair pudding. For what I can tell it actually is made of layers of mashed eclairs and choclate pudding. Sylvain loves the tapioca, something I haven't recovered from my childhood memories of. But this tapioca is like no other! Sylvain's choice was bright orange with canned mandarin oranges. I am not even slightly tempted by the puddings but I cannot resist the squares of sheet cake. It doesn't matter what kind is offered. It is very simple and very good. That seems to be the theme here. Simple and good food (that inspires you to eat things that you normally wouldn't).

Eat at Habib's

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 07 Jan 2009 22:18:00 +0000

During the winter break we finally made it to Habib's for a proper meal and it was well worth the wait. It was cold out and we had been roaming the city all morning. I was starting to hear little whiny complaints -something about being tired and bored- when we turned the corner onto Avenue A and the blue sign of Habib's finally materialized ahead! Hafnaoui was there to greet us with his great big smile, full body hugs and much kissing. He is the chef, the owner, the everything of Habib's.

Habib's is a thin sliver of a take out shop filled with great food and delicious scents. It's not far from a couple of my old E.V. haunts. Incredibly the Pyramid is still there though King Tuts disappeared in the early 90s. Tompkins Square Park has certainly come up in the world.

Sadly there were few customers but that allowed us to find seats on four stools at the counter in the back. We grabbed some drinks - bottled NYC water for me was irresistible and everyone wanted to "try" it - and watched while Hafnaoui cooked each of our dishes to order.

Nora was very happy with her marinated chicken with rice and Thibault with his kibbeh appetizer and falafel lunch. I also went for a falafel but with eggplant and hot sauce. It's mouth-watering to even write about it. Must go back...! The falafel patties themselves were crispy on the outside and bright green with fresh parsley on the inside. They had a softer, more moist consistency than any I've had. Sylvain had the combination platter of course. He has a thing about combination platters.

After all of this of course we were quite full but we were there and who knew when we'd be back so we shared a slab of tasty-looking harisa, a semolina cake with coconut and honey, before heading out to the street. Habib's has a huge selection of those incredibly sweet, nutty, honeyed, layered desserts, all made by Hafnaoui. So good! Move over Mamouns...

So check it out. Tell him Elie sent you.

Habib's Place

89 Avenue A (between 5th and 6th)

NYC

(212) 673-5016

Christmas Fare

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 27 Dec 2008 22:37:00 +0000

Christmas was wonderful this year with the whole family present and gathering in various combinations over three days. In my family, a lot of time is spent in the kitchen at this time of the year between cookie-making (and truffle-making for me) and holiday meals. When the moment comes for me to make the truffles I complain about it because it is time-consuming, but when it comes down to it I really do enjoy it. This year Nora was my production partner which made it more fun and go more quickly. I actually considered skipping making the annual Christmas Eve buche de noel this year (horrors!) because it is a two-day affair and the timing of Christmas and the work week complicated things. But I did make it and we enjoyed it on Christmas Day. I am only sorry that Jamie and Huston could not share in it having left a day earlier! As for the other meals, I got off easily compared to Mom - I only had lunch on Christmas Eve at our house. Dinners were at Mom and Dad's.

Dinner on December 23rd

Rosemary Roasted Loin of Pork and Gravy

Mashed Potatoes

Broccoli Cheddar Casserole

Green Salad

...and for dessert (last but clearly not least)....

The Amazing Whoopie Pie Cake from Maine!

Lunch on December 24th

Tossed Ice Berg & Cucumber Salad with Orange Sections and Chick Peas

Smoked Salmon with Honey Mustard

Eggplant Caviar

Calamata Olive Tapendae

Crab Salad

Italian Dry Sausage

Cornichons

Marinated Wild Mushrooms

Chevre, Manchego, Bleu d'Auvergne & Camembert

Assorted Breads

and for dessert

Poached Pears with Chocolate Truffles

Dinner on December 25th

Grilled Steak

Sauteed Mushrooms

Steamed Buttered Green Beans

"Noodle Poodle Pudding"

Carrot & Rutabaga Puree

Green Salad

and for dessert

Buche de Noel au Chocolat!

Sweet Sixteen on Curry Row

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 22 Dec 2008 21:54:00 +0000

Thibault is beyond birthday parties and has literally outgrown sleepovers with friends in the playroom. We have entered the era of celebrating birthdays by eating out with his friends. This year his choice was Indian and he loved the idea of heading into the city on a Saturday night. A light snow had just started falling as we made the rounds picking up Danielle, then Laura and finally “Laz” before heading to New York. Thoughtful sweet sixteen birthday gifts included a "chrome" trophy emblazoned with “Pimp of the Year” that plays a rap song. I am told that the meaning has evolved over the years and now just means “cool.” Hmmm. We listened to a CD that Thibault had burned for the occasion, enjoying everything from Bob Marley to Notorious B.I.G. Pimptastic.

Dinner was at Mitali East on 6^th Street – where else would I risk eating out in such company and where else could we get away with dinner for six for under $150? Truly we could have been at any of the string of restaurants that still line the street and for us it was good, satisfying fare. But for T’s uninitiated friends, it was their first taste of the truly exotic and hopefully an experience that opened by a small crack not just palates but all of the senses.

They started with peppery pappadams and the usual assortment of chutneys then moved on through platters of appetizers and breads followed by a selection of relatively safe main courses (vegetable korma, saag panir, chicken curry, etc.) all washed own with lots and lots of Coke. From what I could tell, the boys ate voraciously and the girls nibbled a bit of everything but filled up on breads and rice. And all of them seemed to thoroughly enjoy the the novelty of a NYC dining experience.

For dessert we headed over to Hafnaoui’s take-out shop, Habib’s Place, a short walk east to Avenue A. As luck would have it, Hafnaoui had just pulled a fresh batch of desserts from the oven. The kids devoured at least three different versions of sticky, sweet and still warm backlava to sustain them for the ride back to NJ!

http://www.villagevoice.com/locations/habibs-place-513113/
http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/mitali-east/menus/main.html

Thanksgiving Reunion

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 23:56:00 +0000

Every other year we head out to Bridgehampton to celebrate Thanksgiving with Mom’s side of the family – all of the descendants of Woo Woo and Faddie. This year we gained Jamie back from many years away and Jeremy back from Europe plus the newest arrival, baby Reese, but missed Clara and her clan for a final total of 30 people from age 77 to 11 months.

Growing up, the nine cousins spent every Christmas and Easter together and many, many weeks in the summer. Eva was the cool eldest cousin who we all looked up to and admired awe-struck. For a while I was fortunate enough to inherit her 60's era hand-me-downs. I still remember my 5th grade favorites – a pair of hot pink checked elephant bells - perfect worn with a body suit, my belt with a pattern of doves and peace signs and my Indian beaded hair band. Billy was next and closest to me in age and a great friend – with a personality that was larger than life, he was funny, loyal and unpredictable in an exciting way. Then came the inseparable threesome of Busy, Jean and Jamie, followed by Clara and Johnny and finally Jeremy, the beloved youngest.

Early mornings in the summer I went with Dad to the beach with the dogs. On our way home we would stop to explore new houses under construction before the workers arrived. Rainy days were for going out in the car to look for things to sketch, working on jigsaw puzzles and of course, visiting the whaling museum. Sunny days were spent at the beach club under groupings of yellow and white umbrellas tanning, eating sandwiches and riding waves for hours. When we were older we biked into Bridgehampton to look at nudie magazines at White’s Pharmacy or snuck across the street to explore the “spooky house”, an abandoned Victorian in the swamp that inspired Charles Adams’ Adams Family home. Evenings were for cards and games of “ghost in the graveyard.” Television was not an option until the 80’s.

Thanksgiving dinner started with cocktails and hors d’oeuvres at the “Big House”. Busy brought a gorgeous crudités platter of peppers, blanched snow peas and asparagus, carrots, cucumbers, and jicama with a good garlicky dip, salsa and guacamole with corn chips, and a platter of huge shrimp with a choice of sauces. Aunt Sara Jane made her famous Gorgonzola cheese ball with crackers. To drink there was sparkling cider, Saranac beer, Italian Prosecco, white Burgundy and Pinot Noir.

At dinner time we headed up to the cottage which had been cleared of all furniture and filled with long rectangular tables decorated with mini pumpkins, rose hips, evergreens and votive candles. Each family brought a turkey and various side dishes. Ours was a simple 25-pound bird filled with onions and herbs and stuffed generously under the skin with sweet butter and sage leaves. Mom made steamed green beans and a carrot-rutabaga purée, and I made my Brussels sprouts with butter, mustard, bacon and pine nuts. Mom and I also made a huge dish of stuffing flavored with sautéed mushrooms, onion, leeks, celery, butter and herbs and two different cranberry relishes. Eva brought her famous spicy and succulent blackened Southwestern turkey, cornbread dressing and roasted vegetables. Jen and John made an incredible southern sweet potato and potato gratin baked in butter, heavy cream and cheese.

For dessert we had three pies from the St. John on the Mountain Youth Group's bake sale (pecan, pumpkin and apple) and three from Breadzilla in Wainscott (mince, pear and cherry). These were accompanied by Ben and Jerry’s Vanilla and Dulce de Leche ice cream. I really didn’t have room for more but felt I should force down a thin slice of pecan and another of pear. Yum! For breakfast I tried the mince (vegetarian version – no suet!) and was pleasantly surprised to find that I liked that which I had shunned for half a lifetime.

Now that Woo Woo and Faddie are gone, the cousins are grown and dispersed up and down the East Coast with families of their own, and the summer months are now portioned out equitably, Thanksgiving has become the only time that we gather as one group. The three branches of the family have always been quite different, but each of my cousins has carved out a meaningful life in his or her own way. What we will always share is a deeply-rooted commitment and connection to family.

The Best Brussels Sprouts

As usual, all measurements are approximate and can be adjusted to taste.

Two stalks of Brussels sprouts

3-4 Tbs. sweet butter

2 Tbs. stone ground mustard

5 strips of thick, smoked bacon sliced cross-wise 1/2" wide

1/2 cup pine nuts, toasted in a skillet until browned.

Snap the Brussels sprouts off the stalks and soak the guys in a sink or bowl of cold water to remove any grit. Trim the stems and cut a small, shallow "x" in the bottom of the medium and large ones. Boil on the stove in a large pot of salted water to desired doneness. Toast the pine nuts in a skillet until lightly browned and set aside. Cook the bacon until crisp and drain on paper towels. Melt the butter on the stove over low heat, then remove and stir in the mustard. Drain the Brussels sprouts and then return them to the pot with all of the other ingredients. Salt and pepper to taste and serve! Serves ten people who really like the stuff.

Fall Perfection

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 12 Oct 2008 11:23:00 +0000

When did the whole corn maze thing take off? It has certainly gotten out of hand. We shudder each time we pass Alstede's in Chester where hundreds upon hundreds of cars are parked and many more people are swarming around the moon bounce, the "petting" area where they buy grain to feed to cows, horses and llamas, line up for the hay ride to the pumpkin patch and THE MAZE. That said, it sure is a brilliant source of income for farmers and who can blame them, especially those who choose to farm in the Garden State? Not I.

In Ringoes there is a maze in the form of a train that one gets to by taking a ride on an actual train. Also in Chester, there is an election year maze that spells out VOTE 08. Apparently they hand out election info at various points within. Never mind that the mazes could be spelling out anything they want - the visitor has no way of knowing on the ground. Add that to the list of things that make Amercians just plain stupid. Sorry. I'm a little down on "my fellow Amercians" right now.

The lone exception to this insanity happens to take place right on Mom and Dad's farm in Mendham. "Frank the Farmer" decided to get a piece of the farm maze action a few years back but he does it the old fashioned way (if there is such a thing in where corn mazes are concerned). In the front field he has a big, wide hay bale pyramid for climbing and a long, dark hay tunnel for the little ones. His tractor pulls the hay wagon around and up to the back field all day long arriving at a beautiful corn maze on the top of the hill that doesn't spell anything at all.

Frank does not map out an elaborate route with a computer program resulting in a clever image to be promoted through aerial images on direct mail pieces. When corn maze season arrives, he heads into the field with a machete and starts slicing out a path. He also has impressive pick your own pumkin and gourd patches. We picked up nice goose neck and turban squash, a creamy white pumkin and a cool, green apple-shaped gourd, but he also has long, snaky 3-foot gourds and odd pumkins that look like they have a bad case of leprosy or worse. While we enjoyed the sunny day perusing the gourd patch and chatting with friends, the girls spent over an hour running the maze above.

What does any of this have to do with food you may ask. I could stretch it and describe the caramel apple I watched Joe eating for a while but the real answer is nothing. It was just part of a great fall day at Mom and Dad's that started by dividing and digging plants in Mom's extensive perennial gardens with Clara, followed by a walk through the back field towards the stream. The blue sky, warm sun and brilliant folliage were fall perfection. Then there was lunch! Tomato and mozarella salad, red cabbage cole slaw, the last corn on the cob of the summer and grilled Griggstown turkey burgers and sausages served with Cousin Frannie's Relish and all enjoyed on the terrace. Delicious. For dessert Celia and Maeve had helped Datu make carrot cake in early celebration of Clara's birthday next week. Thibault and Celia took generous charge of the icing. Yum.

My Red Cabbage Slaw (it's just as good with green cabbage)

1 large or 2 small cabbages (about 2 pounds)

3-4 carrots, peeled and grated

1 small sweet red pepper, sliced or diced

3 scallions, sliced

3 Tbs. chopped Italian parsley

Dressing:

1 cup vegetable oil

1/4 granulated sugar (I use natural cane)

1/3 cup white vinegar

1 Tbs. stone ground mustard

1 Tbs. celery seeds

1 tsp. salt

grindings of black pepper to taste

Cut cabbage into quarters lengthwise. Cut out cores and slice as finely as possible crosswise. Place in a large bowl. Prepare and add other veggies.

To make the dressing, combine the remaining ingredients in another bowl. Add to the cabbage and toss with clean hands. Store in fridge. The longer it sits the better it tastes.

http://www.griggstownquailfarm.com/

The Poetry of Pizza

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 28 Sep 2008 18:50:00 +0000

sweet margareta
dreamy taste of summer, smoke
much exclamation!

So I'm no poet. Here's one by Billy Collins who inspired my own attempt. He mentioned that about one in thirty haiku are successful. This is one of his:

Awake in the dark—
so that is how rain sounds
on a magnolia.

It's okay but does it mention Nomad Pizza? No.

Jamie drove down to join me at the Dodge Poetry Festival on Saturday and we spent the afternoon and most of the evening listening to readings (and a storyteller) with hundreds of other pilgrims at Waterloo Village. It was inspiring and exciting to see the breadth and talent of those who practice this art form.

Poetry nourished our souls that afternoon and left us with ravenous appetites for the evening line up under the big top. And we were hungry. Barbara had told of the amazing brick oven pizza truck at the festival this year and we found it, a modified '49 REO Speedwagon (Dad, are you reading this?), shoe-horned between jerk BBQ, deep-fried oreos, funnel cake and corn dogs.

What a sight! There actually is a brick oven built into the truck with a roaring wood fire inside. There was a long line but it moved along nicely as pizzas were pushed in and pulled out with surprising speed. Once inside, the thin dough puffed up and baked quickly, emerging lightly charred. These were beautiful pies! Of the two types offered we chose Margareta over pepperoni. Each flavorful bite contained the taste of fresh tomatoes, basil and the woodsy light-as-air crust.

This is pizza that leaves one with the feeling that all is well in the world. Just for a moment.

Artichoke by Robin Robertson

The nubbed leaves

come away

in a tease of green, thinning

down to the membrane:

the quick, purpled

beginnings of the male.

Then the slow hairs of the heart:

the choke that guards its trophy,

its vegetable goblet.

The meat of it lies,

displayed

up-ended, al-dente,

the stub-root aching in its oil.

http://www.dodgepoetry.org/
http://www.nomadpizzaco.com/

Our Favorite Zucchini Bread

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 27 Sep 2008 11:56:00 +0000

In August, in an effort to deal with an excess of squash, Nora and I began trying zucchini bread recipes. I think we tried four in all and the first of those was the best. It was an old favorite from my tattered Green Thumb cookbook. Later in the summer I picked up a recipe at Nora's (the other Nora of Stone's Throw Garden) and tried it out with Thibault with a few key tweaks. I should say that we omitted nuts and raisins in all of the recipes and replaced them with chocolate chips, testing various brands and types of chocolate as well. For the last recipe we used 1/2 white whole wheat and 1/2 white flour and organic cane sugar (and reduced the amount) instead of refined white. This moved it effectively into the domain of health food.

This fifth and final recipe was the hands down favorite zucchini bread. We've been eating it around the clock and the kids requested that we make even more to freeze. Now they're trying to figure out what other vegetables can be turned into sweet breads and made magically delicious with a heaping cup of choclate chips. Our favorite for zucchini bread by the way are Ghiradelli semi-sweet.

Best of Five Zucchini Bread

1-1/2 cup sugar (organic cane or Florida crystals if you have them)
3 eggs
3 cups flour (1/2 white and 1/2 white whole wheat if possible)
1 cup Safflower Oil
3 cups grated zucchini or summer squash
1 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
1-1/2 tsp. cinnamon
1 Tbs. vanilla extract
1 cup semi sweet chocolate chips (we like Ghiradelli)

Preheat over to 350. Grease and flour two 8"x5" loaf pans. Combine sugar, eggs, oil, vanilla and zucchini. Add salt, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda and flour. Stir in chocolate chips. Pour into loaf pans. Bake for 1 hour.

Dinner and a Movie After 17 Years of Marriage

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 21 Sep 2008 12:55:00 +0000

Sharing food with another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged in lightly.

-M.F.K. Fisher

Seventeen years! Geez. We did not go out for dinner or even a drink to celebrate. We didn't exchange gifts. I cooked and we ate together at the table where we have shared meals most nights for going on seven years in this house, longer in others. Those meals have ranged from hurried 10 minute yelling-at-bickering-kids affairs to the more leisurely sharing-at-the-end-of-the-day meal that the experts constantly refer to. Either way, nearly every night we eat together around my grandmother Baba's dining room table.

I had picked up a container of Lebanese lebneh at Metropolitan (yogurt cheese balls rolled in herbs, marinated with olive oil and dressed with minced red onion and tomato), some pita bread, a pound and a half of shrimp and the last of the soft shells for the season. I had been thinking about Mark's shrimp all week but once I was there I realised that somehow the entire summer had passed without my eating a single soft shell crab. That needed to be remedied. I also grabbed some store-made Chermoula to marinate the shrimp and dill sauce to serve with the crab. I was excited to see the Chermoula as it is one of my favorite sauces/marinades and I haven't made it or eaten it in a while.

Dinner was a fairly quick production with everything grilled over hardwood except for the salad. Since I starting using hardwood a few years back I really only turn to charcoal as a last resort and though I enjoy the convenience of using the gas grill in Bridgehampton, I haven't been able to sever my close ties to the Weber at home.

The Menu

Marinated Lebneh with lightly-grilled Pita Bread brushed with olive oil
Hierloom Tomato, Tomatillo and Cilantro Salad from Stone's Throw Garden
Variety of Grilled Baby Eggplant from Stone's Throw tossed with olive oil, salt, fresh cilantro and pepper
Grilled Skewered Shrimp marinated in Chermoula
Grilled Soft Shell Crabs brushed with olive oil and served with Creamy Dill Sauce and lemon wedges

That's it. Good, simple, and prepared and shared with love.

My Moroccan Chermoula Recipe

1 cup olive oil

1/2 cup lemon juice

1/2 cup chopped parsley

1/2 cup chopped cilantro

6 garlic cloves, minced

2 tsp. tomato paste

1/4 tsp. harissa or other hot pepper paste

1 Tbs. paprika

2 tsp. ground cumin

1/2 tsp cayenne pepper

salt and pepper to taste

Place all ingredients in a bowl and whisk lightly or pulse a couple of times in a food processor. This keeps quite a while in the fridge.

Homage to Stone's Throw Garden

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 00:40:00 +0000

The highlight of my week in the summer is pick up day at Stone's Throw Garden and I don't mean that I live for a sleazy rural outdoor singles event. We joined this local CSA when we moved to the area years ago, having belonged to others in Morristown, Long Valley and Flemington over the years. I love this one best of all because it suits me somehow in a way that they didn't and elicits a deeper connection. It is about two miles from our house, hidden in a development of large, tasteful new homes. Nora and Mark live in the original old farmhouse on the former farm. The vegetable garden surrounds the house and takes up much of the property. The first things you see as you arrive at the end of the cul de sac are towering 10' sunflowers. Nora usually appears next in one of her practical yet somehow cool, big floppy hats, cut-off overalls, listening to an ipod. She is an amazing gardner, and smart, saavy, and incredibly warm.

The week's picks are stowed in a small stone spring house. Yesterday's selection included Italian parsley, basil, scallions, a choice of greens, five varieties of eggplant, at least six varieties of tomatoes, three kinds of peppers, green and yellow string beans and a choice from the "item bucket" of gigantic beets, and red or green cabbage. How does she do it?! Each week additional items are designated as "pick your own." After I filled my bag with our share of veggies inside, I headed to the garden for beautiful yellow and orange cherry tomatoes and cilantro. Then I made my way to the rows of flowers in the back.

Many things contribute to making this a special place. The first is Nora herself and the incredible bounty that she is able to somehow pull from the earth. The earth! The second is that Stone's Throw is a secret Garden of Eden for the left-leaning in a town and a county where most lean the other way. But for me, it is the "pick your own" option that makes it even more special. Am I ever happier than when I am picking flowers and literally rubbing shoulders and sharing the busy air space with all manner of bees and butterflies?

September is when the weekly pick up is the most generous but in the background is the nagging, bittersweet knowledge that there will be an end to this. That is all the more reason to revel in the precious minutes when time falls away and nothing exists beyond that moment in the garden.

Labor Day Weekend at Home and Away

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 11:00:00 +0000

It could have been a big party. The weather was perfect; both hot and dry with a great breeze in the woods. Throughout the week I kept thinking of more people to include but as the day neared, the list still hadn’t grown beyond its original and ideal occupants – Liz and John and Joe. We started with fresh cream of tomato soup (is there anything better?) and then ate our fill of grilled citrus-marinated chicken on skewers, Japanese eggplant, summer squash and pizza dough with rosemary and sea salt all prepared over a hardwood fire on our old workhorse Weber. Additional flames leapt from the fire pit and sparklers amused the kids. It was a great night to be outside and a melancholy end to summer.

All in all it was a mellow long weekend where time actually seemed to stretch a bit further than usual with an underlying theme of friends and fires. We enjoyed an evening beer with Rachel and Gardner and many girls around a roaring hibachi in Asbury and two kinds of pulled pork with corn on the cob cooked over a hand-built outdoor fireplace with Nancy, Dan, Andy and friends at home in Lebanon Township.

We left local comforts behind for a Sunday evening in the City with my wonderful, crazy-in-a-good-way friend Karen, husband Fran and kids, Annie and Jake, who were visiting from London. After roaming the Village from their hotel on St. Mark’s Place and through SoHo to the west side, we ended up at an old haunt and one of few still standing, the Ear Inn. We sipped wine on the sidewalk with a motley crew on folding chairs and enjoyed the wind off of the Hudson River before heading inside for burgers. The kids loved the seedy place, the tattooed and the pierced and found it “very New York.” Having been forewarned about the potential for conversation to turn to the earth’s demise in 2012, they also loved Karen. Thibault even declared her “cool” when we got in the car that night for the journey home.

It has been suggested that I include some simple recipes with my posts. I can do that, but please know that the measurements are loose and if I have to tighten them up I'll lose interest in this part of the blog entirely.

Marinated Chicken on Skewers adapted from Anna Pump's "Summer on a Plate"

4 lbs. boneless chicken thighs (I am way into chicken thighs right now) cut into large chunks
1 cup orange juice
1/2 cup lime juice
2 cloves mashed or minced garlic
2 Tbs. dark brown sugar
1 tsp. harissa or other hot sauce
1 tsp. sea salt

Mix all ingredients together for the marinade and pour over skewered chicken 15 mins. before grilling. Once the skewers are on the grill, reduce the marinade by 2/3. Drizzle this sauce over the chicken before serving. Don't ask me about the temperature or cooking time. My use of a grill is pretty intuitive. You'll know when they're done and if they're cooking too fast.

http://earinn.c0m/

http://www.jibjab.com/view/164564

The Official Ice Cream Survey Part III: The Hamptons

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 00:11:00 +0000

The Candy Kitchen has been around since before forever, in fact I don’t remember a time without it. That’s because it opened in 1925, long before my time in the Hamptons began in 1961! If any improvements have been made since then, they have been subtle ones. Anything more would certainly elicit an angry outcry from the community. In an area that has seen such dramatic change over the years, it is reassuring to have a spot where time stands still.

Fortunately for our judges, what the Candy Kitchen does best is ice cream. They make their own from a few basic ingredients; cream, whole milk, egg yolks, sugar and natural flavoring. They offer about twelve flavors at a time with classics like vanilla, mint chocolate chip, coffee chip and rum raisin as well as coconut and fresh fruit in season. Everyone has a favorite - Dad always orders Rum Raisin, Jamie is stuck on Coconut and Sylvain on Coffee.

The Ice Cream Survery Part III required that our judges make multiple trips to the Candy Kitchen for a thorough product evaluation. In fact, Maeve and Nora each made three trips over the course of the week and only one of them together! Maeve sampled Mint Chocolate Chip, Chocolate Chocolate Chip and Chocolate. When recently reached for comment she exclaimed, "It was awesome!" Nora had Cookie Dough twice and Chocolate Chocolate Chip on her last visit. Huston sampled Chocolate Choclate Chip at least twice to my knowledge.

What kind of survey only tests ice cream from one location you may ask. We truly intended to compare the Bridgehampton Carvel, two spots in Sag Harbor and maybe even a gelato shop in Southampton but we kept being drawn back to the Candy Kitchen. For us it really is the only place to get ice cream. Other places may make ice cream that hits the spot, but surely none will endure for generations or ever hold a place in anyone's heart.

Peach Ice Cream from the Candy Kitchen
1 dozen peaches
5 egg yolks
2 lbs. sugar
3 cups heavy cream
1-1/2 cups milk
inch of salt

Put peaches in hot water to loosen skins and peel them easily. Peel, slice, pit and combine peaches with sugar. Mix and mash until thoroughly blended. Combine all ingredients in a crank freezer and mix in the general method used for making ice cream.

I'm guessing that if you halve the recipe, it will fit in a smaller home ice cream maker.

A Week in Bridgehampton

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 26 Aug 2008 16:00:00 +0000

We spent a great week at the shore with family enjoying blue skies and incredible cloud formations, hot days and cool nights, and a warm ocean. Days were filled with biking, swimming, sunning, and reading followed by outdoor showers and great meals! I even squeezed in a couple of naps.

Since I believe in getting things off my chest quickly and moving on, I'll start with one of our two meals out.

I thought that it would be a good idea to head to World Pie on a Monday night in Bridgehampton. We had picked up Thibault on Saturday on East End Avenue near Gracie Mansion and had driven directly to the shore for a week’s vacation but still hadn’t quite regrouped as a family of four after his 8 weeks North. I thought that it would be quiet on a Monday. No one told me that it was Moms-take-as-many-children-under-six-as-you-can-gather and-their-nannies-out-for-dinner night. Mothers and young daughters alike had long tangled hair, sun dresses and metallic sandals. The nannies were not as flashy but enjoyed wine at the table with the crew, dealing with their young charges while the Moms busied themselves with their iPhones. Did I mention that the kids were a combination of terribly spoiled, over-dressed in designer kiddie apparel and frighteningly sophisticated? There were very few men in the crowd and oddly, the children were overwhelmingly girls. I took Nora to the restroom which was also overrun with them, two to a stall! More were roaming unattended through the outdoor dining space, including a child named “Gracie” who crawled under our chairs a few times to access the back yard area where she climbed onto another chair and pounded her little entitled fists on the window of the dining room. One or two times an adult appeared and sighed, “Gracie,” only to disappear again.

I almost forgot! World Pie is a restaurant. It was so distracting that I almost neglected to mention the food which is okay, and the pizza, which is pretty darn good. It was really far better than that. And our long-suffering Lithuanian waiter was top notch and made me laugh when he caught my eye and said that usually he needs at least two martinis before coming work.

We had three salads to start with. Nora had fresh mozzarella with tomatoes and pesto dressing, something she was recently turned onto. Thibault had the Caesar Salad and Sylvain opted for radicchio, endive and arugula. I nibbled here and there. Nora adored hers but I thought that they were all just okay. When you are used to eating only local produce all summer, the mass-produced stuff trucked in from afar just doesn't cut it. With the explosion of small farms on the East End now and a great organic movement, there just isn’t any excuse to serve anything else!

For main courses we ordered three small thin crust pizzas – one plain, one Puttanesca and one shrimp with roasted red peppers. All were excellent, especially my choice of Puttanesca. Remember that Pasta Puttanesca is supposedly “whore’s pasta,” made quickly in the ten minutes or so between clients - chopped anchovies, black olives, capers, garlic and parsley. It translated well to pizza and the proportions were just right and enhanced the pie and rather than overwhelmed it. Yum!

We devoured our wonderful pies, paid our substantial Hamptons bill and got the heck out of there. We’ll come back for the food and the service but I’m afraid we’ll have to wait until it is off-season.

We had much better luck on our second night out, as I knew we would, at La Fondita, a family favorite. The food is excellent, the setting is fun and unpretentious. Food is ordered at the counter and then taken to picnic tables scattered across the lawn near a neighboring garden center. The grounds are fun to roam while waiting for food and kids love exploring the forest of giant bamboo.

I tried the pollo tostada, a corn tortilla filled with shredded chicken, refried beans, lettuce, pico de gallo, queso fresco and crema, and the elote con mayonesa y queso, corn on the cob slathered with mayo and coated with fresh cheese and chili powder. Both were excellent washed down with an icy Negra Modelo! Sylvain reveled in his tongue taco appetizer. I still am not sure if he orders it because he actually likes it or to see people's reactions. It's probably a bit of both.

When we go to Bridgehampton for summer vacation each year with extended family, more often than not the best meals are those we make at home. They are pure and uncomplicated and usually feature grilled meat or fish accompanied by grilled vegetables, corn on the cob and various salads. Over the course of the week we enjoyed t-bone steak, Griggstown Farm chicken sausages, monkfish, tuna and lemon-marinated chicken on the grill.

Side dishes included heirloom tomato salad, tomato and mozzarella salad, mixed greens with sesame dressing, grilled summer squash and eggplant, and an amazing salad that Thibault cooked up of artichoke hearts, beans, red peppers and zucchini!

In spite of the intense development of the Hamptons and in fierce defiance of it (or perhaps because of the demands of the people behind it), a growing movement of local farmers growing organic produce, making artisanal cheeses and raising livestock has been steadily growing over the years. As a result, there are some great area farm stands. Our local favorites are the Pike Farm and the Mecox Bay Dairy stands. Also, the Saturday morning Sag Harbor Farmer's Market has small but broad selection. We picked up a bag of beautiful Satur Farm mesclun with bright orange nastursium blossoms and a box of miniature Japanese lemon cucumbers the size of olives at their stand. We also bought some tiny yellow pleurotus grown in Bridgehampton by David Falkowski and a wedge of local cheddar from Arthur Ludlow of Mecox Bay Dairy. An amazing lunch resulted! Of course prices are high but so is the cost of farming on the East End.

One morning Dad, Thibault and I set out early to beat the crowds at Loaves and Fishes. I had read in Edible East End that Anna Pump, my former boss, had a new cookbook out and anyway, we needed some pies.

The simple white-washed space was unchanged since my long ago summers working there and some of the classic original salads remained joined now by more recent additions. Pies were just being pulled steaming from the ovens and set on the sill behind the counter. A clever idea as Dad observed. We selected a blueberry and a peach-blackberry. We also bought a couple of baguettes, also still warm from the oven, and three copies of “Summer on a Plate” which Anna graciously signed for us. One of the baguettes made it home, the other we finished off in the car between the three of us. That night many of us agreed that the pies were the best we had ever sampled.

Seeing Anna and revisiting my culinary past reminded me of her role in the direction my life later took. Even though she was a no-nonsense boss and I didn’t much like her at the time, I loved the hours I spent working in her kitchen for the summers of 1981 and 1982. I appreciate now what I learned from Anna about food, cooking, dealing with difficult customers and running a business. Now that I think of it, after my mother she was the first in a long line of women who instructed me in “cuisine de femme.” Another was the infamous Martine who I worked for in Corsica and oddly enough had run into at the Sag Harbor Farmer's Market in July.

I biked to work those summers to start the day at 7 a.m. Thursday to Monday. In spite of the early start to the day, I was out most nights and would get a ride to the beach for a swim during my lunch hour. I’d head again to the beach after work. I had a job, a great social life, and was living completely independently at the beach. If I had complaints, they are forgotten! The pleasures I get from time spent in Bridgehampton have clearly evolved over the years since my childhood and young adulthood, but it will always hold a special place in my heart. The trick is focusing on what is still wonderful and valued and blocking out the distracting noise of Maseratis, Lamborghinis and Ferraris.

http://www.lafondita.net/
http://mecoxbaydairy.com/

http://www.openmindedorganics.com/

http://landfcookshop.com/landfcookshop/index.htm

Official Ice Cream Survey Part II: Maine

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 10 Aug 2008 10:50:00 +0000

Nora has returned from a rainy but ice cream-filled week in the Deering section of Portland, Maine and the moment has come to post the results of Part II. Thanks go to Clara for her detailed notes, to Nora for her documentary photographs and Maeve for her dedication to finding the perfect cone. The girl's first stop was Jet Video, the local post office, video store and ice cream parlor that features Gifford's ice cream. Couldn't we all use a place like that? The girls both went for a flavor called Mississippi Mud (coffee ice cream with a fudge swirl and crumbled chocolate cookies) with Maeve adding some chocolate moose tracks to hers (a Maine favorite with chocolate ice cream, Reese's cups and fudge). According to Clara, Jet Video has the biggest, cheapest "kiddie cone" around. This stuff got the highest rating of "marvelous" for creaminess and "great" marks for cone, texture, and sweetness (no toppings were needed) for an average of 1.8.

Next in line was Maple's Organics, the local gelato maker (again, I think we need a "local gelato maker" in Lebanon Township). This was so good that they actually got it twice - this first time at Whole Foods. The girls loved the creaminess of the gelato (marvelous apparently). Nora had chocolate and Maeve had chocolate plus some raspberry sorbet. Creaminess was again "marvelous" and marks were in the "great" range for everything else for an average of 1.75. For the second tasting, they went to the company store where Nora had vanilla chocolate fudge caramel swirl (whew!) and Maeve had the same with a scoop of milk chocolate orange thrown in - what a combo. The creaminess this time dropped off a bit to a still-respectable 1.5, but the cone was merely "good" (Clara says that they have home-made cones that really taste like waffles but thinks we're all too used to the mass-produced kind). "Marvelous" marks for texture brought the average score to a "great" 2. Final comnined score from two tastings: 1.8

The last stop on this leg of the Official Survey to sample the Smiling Hill Farm product. Clara says that this is fabulous ice cream produced by a local dairy. They bought some at a stand next to the local pizza place, Sian's, where everyone got their own pizzas and watched a kid being trained to make them. Nora ordered a dish of rainbow sherbet and Maeve got a chocolate cone. The creaminess was a 1.5 and everything else rated "great" across the boards for an overall score of 1.8.

The results of the Official Ice Cream Survey Part II? Wait just a minute. How can it be?! Is a three-way even tie possible?! Has someone tampered with the results?! Is all Maine ice cream approaching truly marvelous?! Apparently it is. The experts have spoken.

Next stop: The Hamptons

http://www.maplesorganics.com/

http://www.smilinghill.com/

Friday in Frenchtown

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 09 Aug 2008 12:45:00 +0000

Since there was only one slim day before our week alone was to end, we decided that it was time to finally take off from work to take advantage of the situation! We headed south to Frenchtown to do some wandering, eat a bite of lunch and spend the afternoon tubing down the Delaware. Our first stop was Two Buttons, a warehouse hidden away in a former industrial zone beyond "no trespassing" and "private property" signs, on the edge of town. The shop is owned by Elizabeth Gilbert, author of "Eat, Pray, Love," and her husband Jose. Yes, they get married in the end and open up an import business in Frenchtown, N.J. It is a wonderful bazaar of mostly Asian imports. We left with many ideas but only one purchase - a $5 back scratcher for Thibault.

For lunch we decided not to do the Bridge Cafe. We've been there many times over the years and it was quite full. Sylvain wasn't interested in Mexican at Cocina del Sol (though I was) so I suggested the "diner." It looked very inviting and there were a couple of empty tables so we went in.

Why haven't we ever eaten here?! It was very charming (in spite of a tattered seat in our booth -file that under pet peeves), the service was great and diner-speedy and the food was wonderful. I had the Cajun Tilapia Po' Boy special served with roasted garlic and basil mayonnaise, sliced tomatoes and mixed greens on a Kaiser roll with fries and an enormous glass of lemonade. So good! Sylvain enjoyed a chicken and artichoke sandwich on thick sesame semolina bread with an equally enormous iced tea. The menu was a crowd-pleasing combination of diner classics and more sophisticated fare all reasonably priced. I usually feel that diners should stick to what they know - usually it is a big mistake when they try to get fancy - but the Frenchtown Cafe is clearly not in over their heads when they move beyond omelets and Greek salad. We'll be back there soon.

Afterwards, perhaps in response to the magnetic effect of the word "chocolate" painted on the window, we were drawn across the street to a place called Minette's Candies. We sampled Creme Brulee and Tiramisu truffles and picked up some retro candy items like flying saucers filled with sour powder and my beloved Zotz for the kids.

The clouds were starting to look a bit ominous so we took our goody bag and drove over to the tubing outpost in Point Pleasant, PA. and spent the rest of the afternoon floating down the Delaware in inner tubes.

http://www.elizabethgilbert.com/eatpraylove.htm

http://www.twobuttons.com/

http://www.frenchtown.com/

http://www.rivercountry.net/