Chefs in the City

French Dinner, Part Deux

2007-11-26T18:53:00.000-05:00

I just wanted to add some photos of the event to Larisa's nice entry. Viva la Cooking Club!

Le Dîner Français

2007-11-09T18:05:00.000-05:00

Bonjour Amis! The Chefs in the City girls met this month for a fantastic French dinner. Our dinner was super rich, super buttery, super cheesy and super sweet! Ooh la la!!

I was really looking forward to this month’s dinner. I love France and consider myself lucky to have had two wonderfully-long stays in France. As a result, I have very fond memories of being 15 in Nantes and being 20 in Paris. As a teenager in High School, I spent a summer with a French family in the Bretagne region of France, and as a college student, I studied in Paris my junior year.

Unlike many foreign travel experiences, my time in France was not defined by food. In fact, I only have 2 or 3 memories that relate to food from my time abroad. Although I put French food on a very high culinary pedestal, I really do not have Proustian-like experiences with French cuisine. The smell of Comté cheese does not bring me back to a distant memory in the French countryside, nor does a Croque Monsieur make me think of a Parisian sidewalk café. In terms of culinary memories, overcooked spaghetti served with a generous helping of ketchup brings me back to my culinary adventures in France!

Quite oddly, and rather ironically, I ate quite untraditionally while staying in France. On both occasions, my host-mother did not like to cook, and if I wanted a traditional meal, I was forced to go to a restaurant. Eating a dinner of spaghetti with ketchup was not out of the ordinary and on several occasions, my host-families asked me to cook as they were concerned that they were not providing me with a traditional French-eating experience. But what did I know about French cuisine at 15? Nothing; so I ended up cooking the American fare I that did know.

This month’s cooking club gave me an opportunity to finally have a proper home-cooked French meal. The meal, complete with various French cheeses of course, consisted of a portobello mushroom variation to filet Charlemagne, a buttery shallot and local brussel sprout dish, a potato gratin and a cherry clafouti finale. It truly was another delicious and successful Chefs in the City dinner!

While we sat around Kendra’s table talking about our local New York City lives and experiences, my mind was across the ocean in France dreaming of distant memories of experiences I only hope to relive again; but next time, through food!

Until next time...

Skirting Around a Steak Phobia

2007-10-31T12:39:00.000-04:00

Cooking does not scare me. There is nothing about a sharp butcher’s knife, a temperamental oven, or a poor measuring calculation that sets me back in the kitchen. Generally speaking, I love the challenges of cooking. I say “generally speaking” because there is one thing about cooking that makes me a bit sheepish, and that is cooking red meat – and by red meat I mean steak.

I guess cooking chicken or pork should illicit similar anxieties, but I seem to have mastered how to properly check the internal temperature of a chicken breast or a pork loin. With meat, on the other hand, I have never gained the culinary confidence I need to slap a sirloin on the grill and cook it to perfection – probably because I lack the requisite cooking experience.

In addition to my lack of red meat cooking experience, I also suffer from a classic psychological respondent condition to cooking red meat. Up until I was 23, I was a red meat cooking virgin. One weekend, and it was a weekend that will go down in culinary history for me, my roommate from college came to visit me in Albany. Having a proper kitchen and dining space at the time, I was looking forward to a gastro-filled weekend with my friend as we were both big foodies. In what I considered to be a moment of genius, I bought a steak at the grocery store thinking it would be nice to have a steak dinner. After all, we certainly didn’t have any steak dinners in college!

As I didn’t have a grill at the time, I decided to broil the steak. Thinking I knew what a broiler was, and how to use it, but in all actuality not having a clue, I put the steak in the broiler and let it cook for 45 minutes. When I took the steak out of the broiler it looked like a man’s leather shoe that fell victim to a major house fire. But, and with a lot of pride, I brushed the sight of the steak off to just a little charring on the outside. I quickly realized when I cut into the steak that my carving knife really needed to be replaced with a chain saw.

Despite this complete culinary break-down, I served the steak still feeling somewhat proud of my efforts, although completely embarrassed for my guest. But, being the true friend that she was, my college roommate said without any hesitation, “this is the best beef jerky I have ever had,” and with that, my disastrous steak dinner turned into a success complete with many culinary lessons learned.

Since then, I have gradually started overcoming my fear of cooking red meat, and this weekend, I think I completely overcame my fear. I grilled some skirt steaks over the weekend that were so flavorful, so juicy and so tender. So what is the key to my success? Take the meat off the grill despite your gut feeling to cook it longer! Because the skirt steaks were so thin, I seared them for just a few minutes a side, removed them when they were still quite rare, and wrapped the steaks in foil for 5 minutes to let the temperature of the meat rise naturally – a lesson I only learned the hard way!

Until next time…

Changes in the Weather Bring Changes in the Kitchen

2007-10-15T21:40:00.000-04:00

I love how it feels like Fall. Although Indian summers are not unusual in New York, it has felt like the summer heat has been lingering a bit too long this year. This past weekend, however, it really felt like the seasons had changed and Fall had arrived. The weather was cool and crisp, and if I could speculate, I would imagine the leaves on the trees changing colors and falling to the ground. But, really, how could I know that from my small New York City apartment?

The change in seasons really brings out my best culinary inspirations. In May, for example, I start anticipating the fresh produce, the great farm stands, vine-ripened tomatoes and all the wonders that make summer cooking great. Similarly, in the Fall, I get excited about cooking in cooler temperatures, letting the oven stay on a bit longer and eating heartier meals. The Fall in New York also brings some new vegetables to the farm stands and green markets like beets, brussel sprouts and squash.

This past weekend, on an autumn high, I made a great “Fall” meal complete with a very Fallish vegetable dish. I actually followed a recipe from this month’s Bon Appetite magazine – a brussel sprout and shallot hash. The recipe was so simple to make and took very little time. You begin by sautéing thinly sliced shallots in a bit of butter with some salt and pepper until they are almost caramelized. Once the shallots are near caramelization, add a bit of apple cider vinegar and about a teaspoon of sugar and reduce. After the vinegar has been reduced, remove the shallot mixture and sauté your thinly sliced brussel sprouts (trimmed, cut in half and then thinly sliced) in some extra virgin olive oil until tender. Once the brussel sprouts are just about done, add the shallot mixture and cook it together.

The dish was very hearty, healthy and satisfying. We ate this dish with the apartment window open and feeling the cool Fall night air in the background really made the meal. I look forward to more seasonal cooking this Fall - despite the nasty rumors I hear that the temperature is supposed to reach 72 degrees in New York City this week...

Until next time…

Yes, I am a Pastaholic

2007-10-15T19:43:00.000-04:00

I am such a pastaholic. I am constantly craving pasta and lots of it. I am, however, unlike other types of addicts who may take their vices in other forms; for example, an alcoholic would probably settle for gin if a preferred vodka wasn’t available. But unlike your garden variety addict, I am not an equal opportunity pasta lover. In fact, I am quite bias when it comes to pasta. Don’t get me wrong, I will settle for penne or rigatoni, but I like pasta in the spaghetti family; i.e. spaghetti, linguine, capellini or fettuccini. As long as you can twirl it and slurp it, I will eat it and love it.

I also, unfortunately, don’t experiment all that much with my pasta. My favorites are a good Bolognese sauce and I just adore linguine and white clam sauce – both of which are on a heavy culinary rotation in my kitchen. Last week, for example, I made linguine and clam sauce – one of the easiest and fastest pasta sauces to make. My recipe deviates slightly depending upon whether my refrigerator is well stocked for clam sauce night.

If I am in the mood for a little extra bite in my sauce, I will add finely chopped celery, but it is not really for flavor, it is more for texture and color. The base of my sauce, however, does not change. It consists of diced shallots and minced garlic sautéed in extra-virgin olive oil, a dab of butter and a generous amount of red pepper flakes. I find that heating my oil with red pepper flakes infuses the entire sauce evenly, which is quite nice if you like a little heat with your littlenecks.

Speaking of those succulent bivalves, as a general principal you should, of course, use fresh littlenecks, but for a mid-week quickie meal, I rely on canned minced clams. The seasoning of the sauce is very important, especially if you are using canned clams. I liberally season my sauce with salt and pepper, fresh basil and fresh parsley. The fresh herbs really add a crisp and clean flavor to the sauce, giving it a bit of a bite if you choose not to incorporate celery. I also add some white wine to the sauce a few minutes before I am ready to serve.

The entire meal can be prepared in the amount of time it takes the pasta water to boil and the pasta to cook. It is such a quick and easy dinner, but more importantly, it is one of the fastest ways I know to satisfy my pasta cravings.

Until next time…

From Soup to Nuts, Locally Done

2007-09-30T22:33:00.000-04:00

Last week the Chefs in the City girls shared another sustainable meal. This month’s theme, just as it has been since May, was local food – an understandably conceptually-difficult theme for a NYC based supper club. Many New Yorkers think that eating locally is only a luxury, or perhaps just a way of life, for residents of suburbia or rural communities. The attitude of such urbanites is being, if you can’t see the farm, the local produce can’t possibly exist. When I first moved to NYC, like many New Yorkers, I believed that the freshest tomato I would ever eat in Manhattan would be one that had just arrived off the cargo plane from Florida, despite having grown up just 50 miles from Manhattan in New York’s agricultural Mecca – the North Fork of Long Island.

This supper club, along with a little culinary curiosity, proved that farm-fresh local tomatoes, and any other produce this area of the Northeast can grow, is available throughout New York City, anytime during the year. In the past few years, greenmarkets have sprouted up in communities throughout New York City, the most famous being the Union Square Farmers’ Market. The City itself, including our current Mayor, has pledged a commitment to local, sustainable eating through the Council on the Environment of New York City (CENYC) – a privately funded agency within the Office of the Mayor, which promotes community-based greenmarkets.

Despite this, and the many misconceptions New Yorkers have about eating locally in New York City, local eating is not a recent trend or some hot topic that is taking this City by storm like Pinkberryesque frozen yogurt shops. In fact, long before urban crawl became urban sprint, the vast majority of Americans lived on farms. In New York City’s early history, City residents ate food that was brought in by horse and cart from nearby farms. Did you know that Brooklyn was the top producing agricultural county in the US in the 1880s? Although the City’s landscape is certainly different than what it may have looked like in the 1880s, it is still very easy to eat fresh, eat healthy and support our local farmers at the same time. For more information, CENYC has an interactive map on its website that details every greenmarket within the 5 boroughs (www.cenyc.org).

But in keeping up with our recent trend, Chefs in the City enjoyed a delicious “local” Italian meal. From a roasted heirloom tomato and thyme pizzette, to fresh pasta with a local tomato sauce, to home-made local mint chocolate chip ice cream, we once again found that New York can be more than our collective connections to our culinary tales, secrets and ambitions – we can actually eat what it produces...

So in the past few years, living in New York City has taught me many things. For example, if I had one, I could drop off my pocketbook pooch at puppy day care at any time of day, I could take a spinning class at 2:30am, or, better yet, I could travel to my local greenmarket and create a completely local meal from soup to nuts (literally) from ingredients that were made and harvested within just a few miles from my City apartment.

Until next time…

Finding Faith in Local Food

2007-08-20T21:48:00.000-04:00

I haven’t spent much time in New York City this summer. In fact, since the beginning of May, I have only spent 2 weekends in Manhattan - this past weekend being my second. I really enjoy spending my summer weekends in Cutchogue, my home town, where I can be by the water, by bountiful farm stands selling the freshest local produce, and - by far the biggest perk - in cooler temperatures. It is HOT in New York City in the summer.

So for a change of pace, and for a very good reason, I stayed in New York City this weekend. My good friend from college was in town, and we had a lot of catching up to do....which of course took place over food! Because we both love to cook, and love the process of cooking, we decided in advance to make a meal together on Saturday night.

We began our dinner preparations at the Union Square greenmarket - a famous outdoor market where local farmers from Long Island, New Jersey and the Hudson Valley sell their produce and specialities all year round on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays. The Union Square greenmarket is an urban paradise. In an area that is probably a quarter in size to a city-block, dozens and dozens of farmers set up tables showing off their varieties of heirloom tomatoes, fresh herbs and other mouth-watering legume- wonders.

Walking around the greenmarket is euphoric and sensual. You don’t have to be a foodie to appreciate that the smells and colors of the fresh produce and local baked goods is a nice change to the more traditional smells of New York City - i.e. exhaust and garbage. With a menu in mind (chicken shish-kabobs [picture included], grilled corn on the cob and a fresh heirloom tomato and basil salad), my friend and I wondered from table to table shopping for the dinner’s ingredients.

With the smell of fresh tarragon and rosemary in the air, walking around the Union Square greenmarket sort of felt like a religious experience. Feeling like the produce and smells were larger than me, the greenmarket became my sanctuary - my place for reflection and meditation. After all, for a locavore like me, of course I would want to pray to a large bouquet of fresh basil!

After an hour or so in Union Square, my friend and I carried our bags of vegetables back to my apartment to begin preparing our dinner. With the herbs washed and left to dry on my counter, my apartment began to take on the smells of the greenmarket. Almost instantaneously, my small New York City apartment took on the big smells of a country farmstand. Believing that local produce tastes much better than any vegetable bought in a super market, it was nice to have an urban experience that not only tasted fresh, but felt divine.

Until next time...

Bringing it Back to Basics

2007-08-15T21:30:00.000-04:00

After a long hiatus from blogging, Chefs in the City are back and better than ever! We apologize to all our loyal food fans who may have assumed we have thrown in our cooking mitts on both cooking and blogging, but (and to avoid making excuses), for me, it is nice to finally be free of the figurative food coma that has come between the oven and my computer.

To bring everyone up to speed, for the past three months the supper club has dedicated our monthly menus to local, sustainable eating. If Al Gore can bring awareness to the climate crisis by creating an Oscar-winning documentary, and Mayor Bloomberg can implement a congestion pricing scheme to mitigate pollution, then Chefs in the City can do our part by eating locally! This month, in an effort to continue our local eating theme, the supper club decided to leave Gristedes and our small New York City kitchens behind and travel to New York’s agricultural Mecca - the North Fork of Long Island.

The North Fork of Long Island, an area of Long Island that is closer to New England than Manhattan, is still a place that brings you back to basics. Perhaps it is that quintessential Yankee accent that is only spoken from a resident whose ancestors founded the area in the 1640s, or perhaps it is the pristine beaches, or better yet, maybe it is the bountiful farmstands selling fresh peaches, sweet corn, fragrant basil and plump heirloom tomatoes that reminds you life isn’t just a crowded subway car or a $6 cup of coffee.

This past weekend, the supper club took over my parents’ kitchen and created a completely local food - completely North Fork - menu. After a quick brainstorming session over a summer pasta salad we hit the farmstands to buy the ingredients for our meal. Starting at Briermere and ending at Braun Seafood, we bought everything from tomatoes and fresh berries to striped bass and oceanic scallops.

The true test of this supper club weekend was preparing a meal for 11 from start to finish in just a few hours. Whether our prep-time resembled Dinner: Impossible or Iron Chef America, all four of us worked together like a perfectly baked souffle. Using our palates as our guides, we created three appetizers, five side dishes, the main entree and two desserts.

Whether our role in the kitchen was to wash the fresh herbs or to beat egg whites until perfect peeks were formed, a meal of gastro-proportions was formed. Starting with lightly breaded seared local sea scallops, grilled eggplant rolls with goat cheese and basil, and fried green tomatoes with a balsamic reduction our supper club was off to a palatable start. Our dinner, which arguably could have been considered a Last Supper, consisted of a medley of fresh salads and grilled local striped bass with a pesto crust.

The dish de resistance was Andrea’s savory bi-colored watermelon salad. Using two varieties of watermelon (red and yellow), Andrea created a salad that did not resemble any watermelon eating experience that I have ever had. By blending the watermelon with coarse sea salt, pepper, fresh mint and olive oil, a light and refreshing salad was created that tasted like a North Fork summer. Pairing her salad with a grilled pesto encrusted striped bass could not have been more perfect. The meal was topped off with a sweet meringue with local blueberries and grilled stone fruit served with vanilla ice-cream.

The entire meal truly resembled all that is pristine about the North Fork of Long Island. As we sat around my parents dining room table sharing stories and experiences, I couldn’t help but think that the local food told its own story. The local food is my reminder of what brings me back to basics, and it was a treat to share that experience with my fellow Chefs in the City.

Until next time...

Local Foods Astoria

2007-07-02T23:49:00.000-04:00

We had a lovely local foods Queens edition tonight. Larisa made an amazing salad complete with beats, frisee, basil, and goat cheese. She also sauteed the beet greens to give us a bit more greenery... so nice to think of our health! I made enchiladas filled with mashed potatoes, broccoli, zuchini, squash, and carrots which was topped with a semi-soft cheese with nettles. Andrea brought an oh-so-decadent blueberry peach cobbler that made a perfect ending to our local supper.

Local foods in May

2007-05-17T10:19:00.000-04:00

Our May get-together was a lot of fun. We decided to focus on cooking locally grown foods -- its very popular to do this now, and we are nothing if not trendy! I liked getting the opportunity to go to the market the weekend before, on a beautiful Saturday, and picking out spuds for my gnocchi attempt. There were people everywhere, attacking the local farmers for the best wares before the best produce got picked through. It was nice to see! Local foods do attack your wallet back though. :)

Monday evening came and I had yet to start my gnocchi. The ones that survived the boiling, ricing, rolling and re-boiling process came out ok, enough for a slightly amusing buse, but I have to say the other ladies' foods were more the highlight. We had a chickpea crepe with tofu and broccoli rabe, a basil risotto stuffed tomato, and a rhubarb crisp for dessert. Add is some local wine and local sunset and of course good company, and it makes for a fine evening. As the host, I was blessed with the leftovers and I had to admit that I had a crepe and stuffed tomato for lunch the next day....and a crepe and stuffed tomato for dinner the next night too! Yum yum!!

Springtime Harvest

2007-04-11T21:15:00.000-04:00

We kicked off the first park slope edition of supper club at Meghan's place. I had yet to visit this popular 'hood in Brooklyn and I must say the 2 blocks to the apartment were lovely. I have to come back and explore again! By the time we meet up next month, one of us will be married... exciting! Highlights of the night include an asparagus parmesan pudding, sauteed spring veggies, kale pie, corned beef, leek & potato soup, and last but certainly not least a lemon meringue pie. Winter is officially over!

Austrian Bread - Schwartzbrot

2007-03-11T18:29:00.000-04:00

This past weekend I was inspired to begin a quest for Austrian brown bread in New York City. This is the bread that Melik grew up with and what we all started our mornings with on a recent ski trip to the alps. I've never had anything quite like it in the states. It's got to be here somewhere, right? If I can't find it in New York, then I'm guessing I can't find it anywhere. I googled the ingredients to Austrian brown bread (schwartzbrot) and so started my search for elusive loaf. Supposedly it's a blend of wheat and rye flour. I thought I'd start by testing out a few loafs with that same blend.

I took this opportunity to venture out to the west side and the famous Chelsea market that takes up a city block that was once an oreo factory in the city. There are about 10 gourmet food stores and the production facilities of several companies, one being the food network. Winding down the wide hallway, admiring uber-fancy cupcake stores and groceries, we came upon Amy's Bread. Amy's Bread was started in 1992 in a small Hell's Kitchen store and has grown to 100 employees and 200 wholesale deliveries. Today, they produce most of their bread at the location in Chelsea Market. What's even more interesting, at least to me, is that you can watch the entire process behind glass windows in the market.

I stood outside for a few minutes, watching the different loaves being made, from the initial blending of ingredients, the separation into loaves, the rising of these yeasty conconctions, and the eventual baking. It was mesmerizing. Melik finally dragged me away to the store proper and we decided to try 2 different loaves, a french rye and an organic miche. Both of these loaves had the blend of flours we desired but looked completely different from one another.

We brought our new-found treasures home to see if anything resembled the brown bread we were after. The French rye, although the loaf looked similar, lacked something in flavor. Perhaps it wasn't tangy enough? We both agreed the organic miche was superior and more closely resembled the brown bread. It wasn't an exact replica, but it was an ok substitution. It doesn't look like the loaf we had in Austria but the taste is similar. So I guess the search is still on for the quintessential brown bread.

THE WINNER (for now)

THE RUNNER UP

February's Five Course Meal

2007-02-28T09:52:00.000-05:00

This was my first chance to see the gang since before Christmas because I missed last month. It was a lot of fun! We all chose a course to make this time around, so we would hopefully have what would be a proper five course meal. I think it turned out pretty well! We had a salad course, appetizer, bread, main course, and a dessert. Yum. If we get any better, we are going to get our own writeup in Zagats. ...A 24 for food!

Weeknight Quickies, Part II

2007-02-20T19:58:00.000-05:00

I was watching “Everyday Food” on PBS the other day and got a little inspiration for a quick and easy weeknight meal. I am always looking for new pasta dishes as pasta is by far my most favorite food, and such an easy food to prepare during the week. I consider myself to be a pastaholic, if there could be such a thing! The recipe shown on Everyday Food was a pasta dish with shrimp, tomatoes and fresh basil. I really liked the idea of using shrimp as an alternative to ground meat or chicken.

This recipe was very minimal. Aside from the shrimp, the sauce was really just a bit of garlic, olive oil, a can of diced tomatoes and some cherry tomatoes used as a garnish. The recipe also called for two cups of water to thin the sauce.

Although the recipe, which I downloaded off the PBS website, looked tasty and it seemed very easy to make, I thought I could use the recipe as a template and build on it without compromising the ease and convenience of this weeknight meal.

I began by sautéing some garlic and red pepper flakes, or pepperocino if you prefer, in extra-virgin olive oil. The Everyday Food recipe didn’t call for red pepper flakes, but the sauce seemed a bit spice-baron and I thought it needed a little pick-me-up with a healthy helping of red pepper flakes. To this, I added a 15oz can of diced tomatoes, about ¾ of a pound of 26-30 count (a.k.a large) shrimp, some fresh basil, and salt and pepper to season. Rather than adding the 2 cups of water the recipe called for, I decided to thin my sauce with white wine and chicken broth. I eyeballed the amounts of each liquid, but I thought wine and chicken broth would thin the consistency of the sauce to my liking, but also add a nice flavor to it. The sauce cooked for about eight minutes. At the very last minute I added a handful of sliced cherry tomatoes and served this sauce over linguine.

This was a very nice meal for midweek. The sauce had a nice kick to it from the red pepper flakes and the shrimp added a nice meatiness to the sauce making it feel hearty and healthy. I also liked the freshness and texture that the cherry tomatoes added. It was a very easy, very quick and very tasty home cooked weeknight meal.

Until next time…

Reducing It Down To Love

2007-02-16T11:37:00.000-05:00

This year’s Valentine’s Day celebration was spent at home grilling a pork tenderloin. So you all know that my real Valentine this year was my new indoor grill and that I had to proclaim my love for it by grilling something nice, something tender and something very juicy.

The inspiration for this meal came from a recent craving to make a reduction, or sauce, for meat. As I have been trying to limit my consumption of red meat, I decided to make a reduction for a pork tenderloin. I tried to base this meal around the themes of Valentine’s Day and therefore wanted a piece of meat and a sauce that was sensual, sweet and maybe a bit red for Valentine’s Day. I came up with a pomegranate and balsamic vinegar reduction, which really was reduced down to pure love!

Before I made my reduction, I made a quick rub for my pork so that the meat itself was flavored independent of the reduction. The rub consisted for four cloves of chopped garlic, thyme, rosemary, salt, pepper and olive oil. I let the pork marinate in this mixture in a plastic bag in the refrigerator for about an hour.

Because I did not have a recipe for either my rub or my reduction, I wanted the flavors of each to compliment each other, instead of contrasting with each other. For my reduction, I began by sautéing a finely diced shallot in olive oil. To the diced shallots, I added the same spices as my rub - thyme, rosemary, salt and pepper. To this, I added about a ¼ cup of balsamic vinegar and 2/3 cup of pomegranate juice. I let this reduce, with a little help from some cornstarch, for about 45 minutes.

Once I was ready to grill my pork, I heated my new indoor grill to a high temperature. I grilled the marinated pork tenderloin for about 25 minutes or so until the meat reached 160 degrees. When the meat was perfectly done, I let the meat rest so that the juices would be reabsorbed and sliced the pork on a diagonal. I then drizzled my pomegranate reduction over the meat. Both the pork tenderloin and the pomegranate reduction were perfect for Valentine’s Day. The pork was so juicy and tender and had hints of rosemary and garlic infused throughout it. My reduction, which had a deep red color for Valentine’s Day, added a nice sweetness to the pork from the pomegranate juice and balsamic vinegar.

It was an excellent meal and a very appropriate meal for a quiet Valentine’s Day spent at home. I look forward to sharing Valentine’s Day next year with my indoor grill, and of course with a meal that is reduced down to love!

Until next time…

Taking Big Bites in Small Spaces

2007-02-12T19:59:00.000-05:00

In all my time living in New York City I have never hosted a dinner party. Concededly, you might ask, how is that possible, you host your supper club every few months at your apartment? Well, there’s a slight distinction, it’s splitting hairs, but there is a distinction. In New York City catching up with friends has always involved a dinner, but never one that I have cooked. Perhaps constrained by space, proper cooking utensils or a table that seats the dinner party, my friends and I, like most New Yorkers, meet at restaurants to see each other and catch up on life events. But, at the same time, why wouldn’t we eat at restaurants? This is New York City – the restaurant capitol of the world.

Despite the allure of trying a new restaurant or enjoying a favorite dish at a favorite restaurant, I decided to forego the traditional New York City dining experience this weekend and opted to entertain at home. Casting all apartment insecurities aside, I committed to a dinner party for four over the weekend. The prep work for this dinner, which far exceeded just a trip the grocery store and liquor store, turned the ease of a home-cooked meal into a challenge: how to make a small New York City apartment conducive for a dinner party?

Having a dinner party in a small space is not easy. With little storage, New Yorkers become packrats, storing items in small crevices, on top of each other in closets, under the couch and bed and of course under anything that has a little space. For me, my apartment, although always clean, isn’t very neat. The apartment needed a complete makeover before I could begin making my dinner.

On Saturday, I scrubbed from top to bottom, threw out unnecessary items and shoved everything I had aimlessly lying around – including my vacuum cleaner, hair dryer, large stock pot, puffy winter jacket, handbags and books into my one closet, which was already experiencing an aneurism from what was already stuffed in there.

After a full day of organizing and shopping, I finally was able to think about cooking, which was the only thing I really wanted to do that day. Given the recent cold weather I decided to make my beef bourguignon again (hereinafter BB). Once again, I paid homage to Anthony Bourdain and bought some great tender meat at his restaurant, Les Halles. For a detailed description of my BB, please see Beef BourguignYum.

After all of this – cleaning, scrubbing, purging, organizing, decorating, buying and preparing – we were finally able to entertain. The BB was just as good as the first time I made it. It had a strong and powerful flavor that seemed to undermine the small space we were eating in. Sitting around my small coffee table in a space that is about the size of a suburban walk-in closet we were loving the food, the wine and most importantly the company. So despite all the constraints about dining-in, we were able to take and enjoy our big bites in a small space.

Until next time…

No Need To Stew Over This Stew

2007-02-07T20:47:00.000-05:00

Oh the winter outside is frightful, but inside my stew is so delightful...

I have been on the lookout this winter for a hearty stew that doesn’t take all day to make. A hearty stew is a wonderful thing. Hearty stews are filling, satisfying, fragrant, flavorful - they are just wonderful. But, if you do not have all day to stew over a slow-cooked stew, when can you enjoy one?

I recently found a recipe for a fast and easy white bean stew. The recipe was so simple, calling for only garlic, white beans, ham, tomatoes, a leafy green of some sort (recipe called for spinach or arugula), chicken broth and pepper to season. This stew is so simple, so savory and so satisfying.

The entire stew took under twenty minutes to prepare and is really the perfect winter weeknight meal. In a large pot, begin by sauteeing a few cloves of garlic in olive oil. To this, add a 15oz can of stewed tomatoes, 2 cans of small white beans, a few cubes of baked ham, a can of chicken broth and pepper. When the mixture comes to a boil, add your leafy greens. Although the recipe called for either spinach or arugula, I decided to use escarole thinking it would be a bit heartier. This ingredient swap really worked well - the escarole added a nice earthy flavor that I don’t think spinach or arugula would have provided.

For the ham, I asked the butcher at the deli counter to cut a ½ inch slab (for a lack of a better work, but it really looked like a slab of ham) for me. At home, I cut this slab of ham into little cubes and put them in the stew. The ham added a nice meaty texture to the stew that didn’t seem to compromise the slow-cooked taste that this quick stew had.

I served my stew with some crusty Italian bred and called my twenty minute meal a fabulous winter weekday feast.

Until next time...

Upgrades... for my cupboard and our blog

2007-02-05T23:13:00.001-05:00

I upgraded our blog to the beta version! I think they'll eventually do away with the old version so I thought I'd just give in early. Apparently you can do a lot more with the upgraded blogger... so yay! You might need to change your sign-in to a google account for some unknown reason so I'm sorry for the hassle chefs.

The upgrade that is even more exciting is to my ever-growing list of kitchen acoutrements. I bought a pressure cooker! While I was looking into an indian dish to make for our last meeting, I thought I would tap into my Aunt Ann who is a master Indian chef. She's not Indian but she raised her kids next door to another housemom who happened to be Indian. Being like all of my family, she soaked up as much as she could from this kind woman. Now I could reap the benefits! After asking Aunt Ann which dish I should make, she took no time to suggest Dahl Mahkani. Making this dahl would require yet another purchase of cooking equipment which was perfectly fine by me. Shopping...

I'd never seen a pressure cooker in action so I didn't have the slightest clue what to expect. One fine wintry Sunday I picked up my express fagor cooker and lugged it home to my apartment. Upon opening the box, I saw my big 4 Qt Steel cooker and the thick instruction book that hid underneath. I figured I should follow the instructions since there were exclamation marks and promises of harm if they were not followed to the letter.

I added my ingredients and locked the lid in place and waited to see what would happen. While researching pressure cookers, I read testimonials of fellow chefs who had their cooker blow up and explode the meals inside to a million splattering pieces... so I was a bit unnerved watching my pot gain momentum. I kept my eyes on the prize and waited for for something to happen. It came alive! The hissing that the steam escaping the lid creates is very strange and unnatural at first but like anything else you get used to it.

In a fraction of the time it would normally take, I can now cook meals in my trusty little pressure cooker. How can you not buy into this from the fagor site: "In today's time-starved world, any item that allows for quicker food preparation while retaining essential nutrients and vitamins is something everyone can appreciate- and that's what we offer our customers." As with any new purchase, I'm dreaming up ways to get some use out of it right now...

Meatballs: Marvels and Mutinies

2007-02-03T10:11:00.000-05:00

A good meatball is like a soufflé: if it isn’t perfect, it just isn’t. I have been thinking about what makes a good meatball recently. A meatball, as simple as it is, evokes some sort of excitement in me. They are like little gastronomic gifts. The anticipation of having one, the smell of making them and the rush that the first bite brings is almost euphoric. But, conversely, an imperfect meatball is like a birthday with no cake – it just looses its significance.

I began thinking about meatballs in two different ways the other day. The first was in the anticipatory form of receiving this gastronomic gift. I was having spaghetti and meatballs that night and knew the meatballs would be perfect. The specialty store in my neighborhood occasionally sells their own meatballs and they are so fantastic. On the other hand, the second way I found myself thinking about meatballs was about the regret or disappointment associated with a bad meatball.

One of my food sources told me about a bad meatball incident, and although his bad meatball experience is perplexing, my heart still mourned for his meatball loss. The incident concerned a poor choice in cheese or something to that effect. This story got me thinking about what makes a good meatball.

The ingredients in a meatball are somewhat standard. Although many recipes vary on ingredients, the vast majority of meatball recipes call for the following: ground meat, chopped onions, chopped garlic, breadcrumbs, parsley, an egg and salt and pepper. So just using these ingredients – what makes a good meatball?

When researching this blog, I polled several friends and family to get their sense on what makes a good meatball. The responses were very interesting and very similar. Many who responded to my poll said that using fresh herbs, like fresh parsley or basil was the key to a good meatball. Others said that the meat was critical. Most recipes I found while researching meatballs called for a meat medley of beef, lamb and veal. Most of the responses I received to my poll stated that a tender meatball, one made with three types of ground meat, is best. These responses also indicated that a good meatball is a meatball that can be cut with the side of a fork, never with a knife.

Others who responded to my poll discussed the use of breadcrumbs; some preferring less, some preferring more, and one preferring fresh breadcrumbs. But, the overwhelming majority of people who responded to my poll said that the meal is nothing without the sauce. It’s true – the sauce really makes the meal great. The way the sauce coats a meatball really does help create that euphoric experience. There are few finer gastronomic things than the smell of meatballs cooking in a pot of bubbling sauce.

So what makes a good meatball? Well, that is obviously a personal question as my poll indicates. But, for me, a good meatball is one that I can sneak from a pot of boiling sauce when no one is looking and sink my teeth into the tender meat surrounded by a roof-of-the-mouth burning sauce.

Until next time…

Beef BourguignYUM

2007-01-23T20:23:00.000-05:00

Burr...its all of a sudden cold out! A warm hearty meal of beef bourguignon did a world of good this weekend given the cold weather, the blustery Manhattan winds and my temperamental radiator circa 1880 that may or may not work on days of extreme weather (like this particular day).

I recently wrote about beef stroganoff - a cousin of sorts to beef bourguignon. As you recall, my beef stroganoff was renamed beef strogan-tough because the meat was so tough. Not wanting to make the same mistake twice, I decided I would only make beef bourguignon if I could find good tender meat.

Abandoning all grocery shopping habits to guarantee a tender cut of meat, I forewent going to my usual butcher and ended up purchasing a cut of beef (cut unknown) from Anthony Bourdain. Seriously, I did. Anthony Bourdain’s restaurant, Les Halles, happens to be around the corner from my apartment. I have eaten there a few times and have noticed that Anthony (I don’t think he would mind if I used his first name...I’m a regular at his restaurant...) has a meat counter in the restaurant for meat sales. Thinking that I would be paying well above market rate at Les Halles, I still went by the restaurant to price his meat. Although the prices were marked in Euros, I still found the prices to be well below my market’s meat prices - almost by about $8 a pound. I bought a hunk of some hunk of meat and was promised by a French sous-chef that it was tender. And I must trust the French when it comes to cooking...

The preparations for my beef bourguignon could not have been more simple. Not using a recipe - only the memories of a passing conversation with my mother - I put together an amazing beef bourguignon. Traditional beef bourguignon is a slow cooked dish. Ideal beef bourguignon (hereinafter BB - I am getting tired of writing bourguignon) is cooked for a few hours before eaten. I found that with this particular cut of meat, however, an hour on the stove was all that was necessary for my BB.

I began by cooking about 3 slices of bacon, chopped, in a nonstick pot. When the bacon was cooked, I added my meat cubes and seasoned the mixture with salt and pepper. When my meat was nice and brown, I removed it from the pot and added diced carrots and onions. I seasoned this mixture with thyme, two bay leaves and a bit more salt and pepper. I let this mixture cook in the leftover bacon fat with a few drops of extra-virgin olive oil. When the carrots were soft and the onions translucent I added a little flour (to thicken the wine I was about to add) and added the meat. I covered the meat with a pinot noir and let it cook. I found that after 30 minutes or so my sauce was getting a bit thick (I probably added too much flour). To counter this culinary chemistry, I added some beef broth to thin it down. The final touch to BB is adding some chopped button mushrooms to the pot about ten minutes before you are ready to eat. The BB was served over egg noodles.

Let me just say this...Beef BourguignYUM!! Hands down, this was the best home cooked meal in a long time. The meat was so tender, the sauce - the reduced pinot noir and beef broth with a hint of bacon fat and thyme - YUM, you just can’t get happier taste buds!

Until next time...

A New Year Brings New Cooking

2007-01-21T18:41:00.000-05:00

The new year has brought a few changes to my humble New York City kitchen. In 2006, my kitchen was ripe for a reality TV home organization show. I had junk mail mixed in with bottles of aged balsamic vinegar and my spices were stored in the same space as my bulk food items - who could find a small McCormick’s nutmeg in the midst of 10 pounds of rigatoni pasta? This year, I made a few New Year’s resolutions. The first was to get organized. The second was to conduct a full-on purge of unnecessary items. This purge was made further necessary by a few new additions to my kitchen; the most noticeable addition being my new electric indoor grill.

My boss generously gave me a gift certificate to Williams-Sonoma for Christmas in an effort (perhaps) to compensate for the bonus-less structure employed by my firm. With the gift certificate, I was tempted to buy many cute and fun kitchen gadgets, like silicon pot holders and funky pepper mills, but realizing that my resolution would be compromised by an influx of items that would not be given proper storage, I nixed the spending spree on gadgets and purchased 1 item - the indoor grill!

As you know, I often write about grilling, whether it be out in civilization on a real Webber, or on a grill pan in the City. I have posted many tributes to my grill pan and have frequently commented on different spices that compliment grilled meat.

The first meal prepared on the new electric indoor grill was pork chops. They turned out wonderfully juicy, tender and coated with those aesthetically pleasing grill marks. The second meal prepared on the new electric indoor grill was hamburgers. First, as a minor prelude, I have to say that the preparation of a hamburger is daunting. Perhaps my fear is rooted in some unfounded sexist stereotype, but I just get intimidated by the idea of making a hamburger. So I deferred to my sous-chef on this meal.

With a few chops of fresh rosemary, mincing of garlic, a few dashes of salt and pepper, George had his burgers on the grill in no time. In a quick second, the magical electric indoor grill had perfectly grilled our hamburgers. Complimented by a little fresh mozzarella, lettuce and tomatoes, you would have thought you were dining al fresco on a summer day on the East End of Long Island (that is if I closed my eyes and thought about it). But, although the scenery was different, it was still a perfectly grilled hamburger.

So my humble New York City kitchen of 2006 is slowly becoming a bit more this year if you will. Hopefully with a bit more organization, my new Henckles (another new addition) will be working up another great dish I might not have tried in 2006!

Until next time...

Shepherding NYC Culinary Trends

2007-01-18T23:19:00.000-05:00

New York City is undoubtably the quintessential culinary hotspot. Sure London and Paris are cities with excellent gastronomic reputations, but in the United States, New York City seems to set the trend for the rest of the country - in large part due to Frank Bruni, I’m sure.

I have been noticing in my eating travels around the Island that chefs are turning basic comfort food dishes, like macaroni and cheese, into sophisticated main dishes. To illustrate, last weekend I had lunch at a new restaurant in my neighborhood called Artica. The restaurant is a bit of a melange between a Corkish pub and a James Bond Icelandic party. The restaurant is English/Irish and it’s menu is very pubish, but retro-pubish, not saw-dust pubish. Items on the menu included Bangers and Mash and Shepherd’s Pie - both considered traditional “poor man’s” meals in the UK. Bangers and Mash, for example, is a dish consisting of mashed potatoes and sausages. The reason why the dish was given the name bangers and mash was because during wartime rationing the sausages were filled with water to make them appear meatier.

Shepherd’s pie, similarly, is a traditional “left-over” dish. Shepherd’s pie was traditionally made with leftover meat and vegetables and served with a layer of mashed potatoes on top for substance. Shepherd’s pie is generally prepared with ground lamb, but a little research indicates that any ground meat can be used. The ground meat is sauteed with onions, carrots, peas and herbs. A layer of mashed potatoes is then added on top of this meat mixture and the pie is baked.

I chose the shepherd’s pie at Artica and found it to be a very simple, but sophisticated and artfully spicy dish. Last night, I tried to emulate what I remembered tasting at Artica because I had some leftover vegetables that I needed to use.

I made my shepherd’s pie with ground pork and ground beef. I sauteed the beef with chopped onions, carrots, celery and some peas. I flavored this meat mixture with salt and pepper, rosemary and thyme. I chose these spices arbitrarily, but a spice like paprika is often used in shepherd’s pie. I also added about a half of a cup of beef broth and thickened it with flour and butter. Once the mixture was done, I transferred it to a 9'’ pie pan. On top of my meat mixture I put a layer of garlicky mashed potatoes. In a 450° oven, I baked my shepherd’s pie for about 15 minutes. I wanted my mashed potatoes to become a bit crispy so I added a few chunks of butter to the top of the potatoes. Unfortunately, this just made a buttery top, not a crispy one. Maybe next time I’ll put the dish under the broiler...

Although this was a “poor man’s” supper and it didn’t break the bank, it certainly was excellent. It was a simple dish to make, but very sophisticated and a bit trendy if I do say so myself. By coupling my shepherd’s pie with a nice Chianti, I sort of felt as if I was following suit on a culinary trend in New York City.

Until next time...

A Foiled Dinner Creation

2007-01-18T10:04:00.000-05:00

Before I begin my little story on another New York City cooking adventure, I want to apologize for my inattentiveness to my postings. Yes, I have apologized before and have promised to write more, but I am not sure where the time is going? Once again, I will try to make more of an effort in keeping you updated on my culinary creations – I really do love sharing the stories behind them!

I must give credit where credit is due. I made an amazing dinner recently. The meal was a variation of grilled pork shish kabobs – without a grill of course and without skewers. Concededly, you might ask why, despite the lack of shish kabob essentials I continue to call the meal shish kabobs; but saying, “I made little pork cubes” just doesn’t sound as interesting, does it?

While doing a quick breeze-through of the cooking section at Borders, I quickly glanced at an Ina Garten cookbook and got the inspiration for this recipe. Ina’s recipe was a lamb kabob over couscous, but thinking that lamb might be a bit decadent for a dinner without guests, I chose a pork tenderloin as the meat is quite tender and flavorful, but fortunately not as expensive!

A few hours before dinner I cut the tenderloin into cubes and began working on a marinade. The marinade, which was sort of put together randomly with the ingredients I had in store, consisted of a few swirls of extra-virgin olive oil, red wine, garlic, thyme and rosemary. I let the pork marinate in this mixture for about 3 hours.

Using a grill pan, I grilled the tenderloin cubes for about 3 minutes on each side, removed them from the pan when they were still very rare and wrapped them in tin foil and placed them in the oven on a very low heat until the rest of the meal was ready. This technique was very accidental. I removed the pork from the grill plan prematurely because I needed the space and pan for my side dish – grilled red onions and cherry tomatoes that I coated in extra-virgin olive oil, coarse sea salt and pepper.

When my sides were done grilling, I removed the pork from the oven, put a few cubes over couscous and placed my tomatoes and red onions around the plate as a garnish. To my surprise, the meat that was wrapped in the foil and left to finish cooking in the oven was juicy, tender and delicious. Wrapping the meat in foil created the perfect cooking environment. All the flavors and juices were contained within the foil, and because the liquid could not evaporate, the meat did not have an opportunity to dry. This technique did not foil my meal - the pork was so delicious and all the flavors of the marinade were noticeable and complimented the meat so well.

My sides were grilled in the juices and bits of meat left over in the grill pan, rendering the tomatoes and onions with similar flavors to the meat. My couscous was also cooked in rosemary and chicken broth, keeping with the spices in the marinade. It was a great dinner – considering that I made grilled shish kabobs without a grill and without skewers. The best part was stumbling on a new cooking technique for meat!

Until next time…

Weeknight Quickies

2007-01-06T18:47:00.000-05:00

Meals prepared in 30 minutes or less are all the rage right now. Entire cooking shows and cookbooks are dedicated and catered to the cook on the go. But, its true, regardless of your age or occupation, quick and easy meals are valued during the week. As much as I love to cook, I would rather save my culinary gusto for a weekend evening when time seems less of an essence.
Reflecting back on my week of quick eats, I thought I would share some quick and easy, but also healthy, weeknight meals. Of course quick and easy meals are somewhat dependent upon the season (a fresh salad is always wonderful on a summer evening), but for the warm winter we are experiencing, here are a few easy dishes that can be prepared in 30 minutes or less!

Earlier this week I made chili. There is nothing fancy schmancy about my chili. It is a basic recipe that calls for ground beef, chopped onions, chopped garlic, a can of diced tomatoes, about a half of a cup of water, and a packet of chili seasoning. The longest part of this meal’s preparation is dicing the onions and waiting for the meat to brown. I let my chili cook for about 15-20 minutes and serve. I find that chili, on its own is a bit boring. It needs a pairing of some sort.

To make my chili more interesting, while my chili is cooking I grade some Cheddar or Monterey Jack cheese (buying pre-graded cheese also works and saves time), chopping a bit more onion, slicing an avocado and warming some flour tortillas in the oven. I serve my chili with these garnishes and make chili burritos with my chili. I enjoy a little chili stuffed in a warm tortilla with a little graded cheese, avocado and sour cream. It takes chili to another level - and it is all prepared in under 30 minutes.

Another idea for a weeknight quickie is a stir fry. A stir fry is one of those dishes that can be very minimal or very complex, depending upon your energy level. My stir fries are never prepared in the same manner. This week, I began my stir fry by browning some sliced pork. Although I used pork for this meal, chicken and beef can also be used. I added some onions, garlic, carrots, broccoli and snow peas. I flavor my stir fry with a little teriyaki sauce and hoisin sauce, as well as adding some freshly graded ginger. This meal could also be prepared even more quickly by using prepackaged frozen vegetables. While my stir fry is cooking, I have some rice cooking and with a little luck, both the rice and stir fry are done at the same time. It is a very quick, easy and healthy meal.

Another weeknight quickie is a simple pasta dish with a fresh tomato sauce. A fresh tomato sauce does not have to be slow cooked or labored over. It can simply be some onions, garlic, chopped fresh tomatoes, a bit of white or red wine and some basil, salt and pepper. This entire meal can also be prepared in under 30 minutes.

Hopefully these quick and easy meal ideas will be inspirations for routine weeknight cooking. I also feel better about myself when I can prepare a meal that is quick and easy, rather than relying on my old take-out stand-byes.

Until next time...

A Different Stake in Marinating Steak

2007-01-04T22:33:00.000-05:00

I have been a bit behind in my blogging lately, primarily due to the holidays and some minor travel. I wish I could say I was touring the world, getting creative culinary inspirations from local traditions, but my blog-inattentiveness really just boils down to overindulgence in the holiday spirit.

Since I want to fill you all in on my all eating experiences and cooking adventures since my last posting, I think I’ll start off on an interesting, albeit successive, dining experience with a little chemistry lesson to add for flavor. I spent the week between Christmas and New Years with all the wonderful luxury amenities that I don’t have in New York City. For starters, I had a car for a week and loved every second of my life away from the 6 train. I also (and probably most importantly) loved my travels to an actual grocery store in a car - not my trips by foot to the bodegas in the City. Perhaps my most favorite luxury culinary accoutrement was the barbeque - the real deal, not a grill pan!

So loving every eating second of this week away, we decided to grill some strip steaks in celebration of a metropolitan-free life. George, taking the culinary reins on this grilling adventure, prepared and grilled the steaks. Pretending to be occupied with washing some Bibb lettuce, I carefully monitored his preparations of the steaks. Not that I didn’t trust his abilities to marinate the meat, but well, I am a bit of a culinary control freak...

From the corner of my eye, I saw him place the strip steaks in a pan and liberally salt and pepper them. So far so good. The next step of this marination process involved what appeared to be a deep philosophical conquest on what in the refrigerator could be added to the steaks as part of the marinade. After his reverie of sorts, some Worcestershire sauce was added to the steaks (I was fine with that) and some chopped garlic was added to the steak (I was also fine with that). Next, he pulled out a bunch of fresh rosemary and began pulling off some stems in what appeared to be the start of this marinade’s demise. Immediately realizing that my lettuce washing could wait and I was faced with what could have been a potential culinary Code Red, I abandoned my lettuce and turned my attention to the steak.

As I was staking out the steak, hunks of rosemary were being pressed down into the steak. Now, before I sound too critical, let me admit my naivety, or perhaps, my partial feelings on the use of rosemary. I love rosemary. Rosemary encrusted pork chops are fabulous and rosemary on a pork tenderloin is equally fabulous. Rosemary and lamb are a nice combination, as well as a hint of fresh rosemary on a roasted chicken. But, rosemary and beef? Debatable.

I let George finish his preparations and grill the steaks. A bit anxious for both of our responses to the rosemary chunks unsystematically placed in the steak, I cautiously bit into my first bite. Chew chew chew, savor, wait a second, savor, and swallow. Repeat until the steak is gone. The rosemary sparred steak was great - in fact, it was amazing. My culinary worries were unnecessary. My taste buds were delighted. The marinade was a great invention.

Now, for a bit of a chemistry lesson. The pairing of rosemary and beef is not a new phenomenon. In fact, the pair predates refrigeration as rosemary extract prolongs the shelf-life of cut beef. When added to packaging, rosemary extract helps meat stay pink for weeks. Also, rosemary extract reduces heterocyclic amines, which are carcinogenic compounds that form when meat is cooked with high temperatures. Adding rosemary extract to ground beef reduces the amount of cancer causing compounds created during grilling. Interesting, huh?

So rosemary really does pairs well with steak, on many levels. I certainly enjoyed this culinary experience and hope you try it and enjoy it as well.

Until next time...

Beef Stogan-tough

2006-12-29T14:05:00.000-05:00

As much as I love to cook and experiment with different recipes, foods and methods of preparation, I still find myself a bit dense, or perhaps creatively limited, when it comes to creating an everyday meal. I have my standard dinners that seem to play like a song on repeat, but aside from my trusty chicken dishes and pasta dishes, I tend to draw culinary blanks when thinking about what to make for dinner.

The other day, in the midst of one of these culinarily-challenged moments, I had a mild revelation and decided to make beef stroganoff. My mom makes a really good beef stroganoff, and thinking that my culinary talents (or sometimes lack thereof) came to me through osmosis watching my mom cook, I thought I could easily put together a comparable beef stroganoff.

In preparation for the dinner, I downloaded a few beef stroganoff recipes from my favorite cooking websites and came up with a grocery list for my trip to the market. All of the recipes I found called for beef tenderloin. When I went to my local butcher to buy beef tenderloin, I was disappointed that he only had bottom and top round cuts of meats. Beef stroganoff is best when the meat is very tender – almost a bit flaky in the sense that your fork can cut right through the beef. With beef stroganoff, the meat becomes the piece de resistance to the meal if you will, complimented only to the blush tomatoey sauce and soft egg noodles. Caught in between a rock and a cheap piece of beef, I asked the butcher which cut of meat he would recommend for beef stroganoff and was told that bottom round works “perfectly” with beef stroganoff. The butcher’s eagerness to sell me bottom round should have alerted my inner culinary sleuth, but stubborn and determined to make beef stroganoff, I bought the bottom round cut of beef.

Back in the apartment, I began preparing my meal - cutting the bottom round into small cubes, chopping my onions, smashing some garlic, opening a dry white, preparing my beef bouillon cubes and getting my tomato paste ready for what was becoming a highly anticipated meal. The sauce, or perhaps better described as the base of this dish, is relatively simple. Most recipes call for onions, garlic, beef broth, a tad of tomato paste, white wine, a dash of paprika and salt and pepper. The minute before the beef stroganoff is plated, a few dollops of sour cream is added.

I proudly served my beef stroganoff over a bed of egg noodles, and upon the first bite, suffered an enormous bout of disappointment. Although the sauce was excellent, the beef was really tough – way too tough. It was hard to cut the beef even with a knife, and when I chewed the beef I thought I was eating an English riding saddle. I learned that cheaper cuts of meat should be marinated overnight to tenderize them if a better cut of meat isn’t available. But, the bottom line is, bottom round beef turns beef stroganoff into beef strogan-tough.

Until next time…

The Cookie Exchange

2006-12-12T09:55:00.000-05:00

Despite the craziness of everyone's schedules and lives, the cookie exchange came together last night like a bowl of creamed butter and sugar. :)

I will make the first parry in the battle of the dueling Canon Powershots, and post these few pics of the event. Happy Holidays everyone!!

I had a blast, still coming down from my sugar high, and I'll add a couple of my canon shots to compete! Here's my ultra-simple toffee recipe: Toffee!
- Maggie

Mastering Mashed Potatoes

2006-12-11T22:26:00.000-05:00

Mashed potatoes are one of my most favorite foods. For me, mashed potatoes are the ultimate comfort food. They are the perfect pairing to a roast chicken and on a fall or winter evening, there is nothing more comforting than a mastered mashed potato.

So what are mastered mashed potatoes? Well, the answer is probably obvious to a true mashed potato connoisseur; for others, the answer might be somewhat puzzling. Those who grew up with unremarkable mashed potatoes might find this posting a bit trivial or strange, but for those of us who instantly know the shortcomings of boxed mashed potatoes, unsalted mashed potatoes or lumpy mashed potatoes, this posting is a long-awaited homage to the wonderful spud.

Before I tell you all about how I have mastered mashed potatoes, let me tell you of a dark moment in my mashed potato eating existence. First, my mother makes a pretty decent mashed potato. Her mashed potatoes have had moments of salt-conservatism or butter deficiencies, but overall, she trained my palate well. During my formative years, I only knew my mom’s mashed potatoes. When I was 13 or so, my aunt made boxed mashed potatoes, and for some reason, perhaps it was an act of rebellion, I decided boxed mashed potatoes were the best mashed potatoes. For a few years following this experience, I had a mild, albeit unacceptable, obsession with boxed mashed potatoes.

Fortunately, I moved out of this dark time and regained culinary sense. Then, when I got a bit older and developed my own culinary interests, I figured out how to property make mashed potatoes. First, true mashed potatoes are simple. They are not made with red potatoes and their skins, they are not made with wasabi, nor are they chunky. Mashed potatoes, my way, are smooth, salted, buttered, beaten and fluffy. Liberal doses of butter, salt and milk are essential. There are no frills, no spills, just simple mashed potatoes. For me, a simple mashed potato, is a mastered mashed potato.

Until next time...

An Eating Marathon, of Sorts

2006-12-05T21:21:00.000-05:00

The eating season is upon us. Starting at Thanksgiving and ending in the New Year, we all participate in a figurative eating marathon, or so it seems. For purposes of this gastronology, I equate the 26 mile venture with 26 days of eating, give or take a few days. In true spirit of the season, I am convinced that I am leading the marathon.

Without going into the intricacies, and perhaps grotesque, details of my daily eats, I'll give a quick summary of the highlight, thus far, to this season's eating experience. This past Friday, George and I celebrated his birthday at Fiamma. Fiamma, a restaurant situated in Soho, is part of the B.R.Guest association of restaurants. You may know of some of the other B.R. Guest member restaurants, including Blue Water Grill, Ruby Foos and Dos Caminos, to name a very few. Fiamma, meaning "flame" in Italian, is a 3-star sophisticated Italian restaurant, which has also earned a very prestigious Michelin star – a rarity in New York. I happened upon Fiamma's website during one of my weekly comprehensive online searches for interesting restaurants in New York City. On a lurch, I made a reservation thinking it might be a nice spot of a birthday celebration.

Our experience at Fiamma was outstanding. The ambiance, which I consider to be a necessary component to any good meal, was sexy, a little seductive perhaps, wholly inviting, and proportionately trendy. The tables were not so Euro-friendly (too close to each other…yes, I made the phrase up and it is genius), the service was impeccable and the staff knowledgeable and the food was unbelievably innovative and incredibly tasty. We started with the braised pork bellies, which consisted of a thick layer of pure soft fat that sort of hovered over a very thin shred of pork. They were so flavorful, so tender and just melted away in our mouths. The entrees were equally innovative. What was most interesting was the white truffle option to each entrée. For an extra $75, 10 grams of white truffle shavings were sprinkled over the dish. White truffles, I am understanding, are the crème de la crème of anything culinary. They are fungi royalty, coming only from the Piedmont region in Italy and pretty much create the most intense and sensual flavor to any meal.

Instead of having a traditional dessert, we decided to have the cheese platter, and believe me, this was a good decision. The cheeses, all Italian, were amazing. I instantly fell into a very intense love with a raw sheep's milk cheese that was laced in black truffles. The cheese, called Pecorino Tartufello, is truly a cheese worth finding.

Our experience at Fiamma was terrific. I recommend this restaurant for any special occasion, or if you have the money for an every night dinner, but definitely a meal worth this blog. My whole point in this is, yes, of course, to make your mouth water, but more importantly, or perhaps concerning, is to share with you a little of my eating experiences this season. Not all my eating on this figurative seasonal marathon has been as lavish as Fiamma, but in terms of calorie counting, I don't think it matters whether I am dining on gourmet pork bellies or canned peas – I am still eating….a lot.

Until next time…

Inspired by the madness of Julie Powell

2006-12-02T10:52:00.000-05:00

Inspired by the madness of Julie Powell and her Julie/Julia project, along with my own continuing unemployment (or underemployment as I like to call it), I have decided to do my own project this December. But it will have less of the madness and far more in the way of butter and sugar (well, it sounds like the butter was one of the main ingredients for all french cooking -- so lets just say for sure more sugar!). It is a "Twelve Days of Cookies " project! Simply put, in December, I will bake 12 different types of cookies before Christmas (i.e. 12 batches of cookies in 24 days). It is fairly easily attainable, yet its quite a bit more baking that I am accustomed to, so it will stretch me a bit. It may also stretch my waistline, but that is another story (I do know the dishwasher can handle cleaning the bowl by itself, but hey, I like to help!). Another bonus is that my project will tie in to the cookie exchange we are doing for this month's cooking club.

In order not to crowd our blogspace, I am posting about the project here.

Happy holiday and happy baking!

An Untraditional Thanksgiving Tradition

2006-11-28T21:40:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving traditions in most American households include serving the following dishes at dinner: turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, a fall vegetable dish of some sort and cranberry sauce. My family's Thanksgiving traditions are quite similar. Every year, we have the 22-pound fresh turkey; a home-made corn bread based stuffing with sausage, apples and currants; mashed potatoes; mashed turnips; brussel sprouts; a fresh cranberry sauce made with cranberries, a little orange zest and a healthy dose of some flavored liquor; and, maybe another vegetable dish thrown in for good health. What is untraditional to most Thanksgiving traditions is that we start our meal with a soup.

For the past 10ish years, we have begun our Thanksgiving feast with a Curry Pumpkin Soup. Concededly, the curry seams a bit unorthodox, or untraditional, to perhaps this Mayfloweresque celebration, but surprisingly, the spice and flavor compliment the meal flawlessly. The curry in the soup, although present, plays a minor role in comparison to the soup's main ingredient – the pumpkin. The pumpkin in the soup is always fresh – never canned.

The process for pureeing pumpkins is arduous at best, as the process begins in a pumpkin patch and ends in a food processor. Cheese pumpkins, which really resemble a Cinderella coach rather than an aged Gouda (well, perhaps the color of a cheese pumpkin is akin to a mild cheddar) are halved, seeds removed, and baked until the pumpkin is soft and mushy.

Once the pumpkin is adequately baked, the fleshy pumpkin meat is scooped out of the pumpkin's shell and placed in a colander to drain. As a quick word to the wise, a patient cook would allow gravity to work its magic so that the pumpkin's moisture slowly drains from the fleshy pumpkin meat. An inpatient cook (yours truly) would mash spoonful size portions of pumpkin meat in a fine sieve until the pumpkin meat is sufficiently dry. This technique is not only messy, but completely tiring and inefficient. I digress, but we do learn from our culinary mishaps after all. After the pumpkin meat is drained, it is run through the food processor until it is a puree. After a few pulses on the processor, pumpkin puree is formed (just like the canned pumpkin)!

After laboring over the food processor, the soup is made by sautéing some finely diced onions and leeks. The pumpkin puree is added, along with proportionate amounts of chicken broth, curry powder, nutmeg, salt and pepper and a few bay leaves. This mixture cooks for about 45 minutes on low heat. At the last minute, a few drops of heavy cream are added to the soup. The soup is served with a dollop of sour cream and a few pinches of paprika to garnish the soup.

So this untraditional Thanksgiving dish has become a tradition to my family's meal. Although the curry may seem unordinary, the tasty is really quite extraordinary.

Until next time…

Rolling Without A Pin

2006-11-20T16:00:00.000-05:00

I was presented with a bit of a baking challenge this weekend. I sort of felt as if I was a participant on Iron Chef or maybe some prime time reality TV show, in which the purpose of the challenge is to create something using only the materials you can find around the house. Well, that might be a bad analogy (the analogy gene doesn't run in my family), but you get the gist...

Anyway, so I was doing a little cookie baking at a friend's house this weekend, and although I brought most of my own tools and ingredients, I found that a few basic baking tools were missing and I was presented with a baking challenge. So the twist on this baking adventure was that I needed to make my decorative sugar cookies without a rolling pin. Was this a catastrophe? Not really. An inconvenience? Absolutely. An impossibility? Never. This culinary genius found a way to roll out my sugar cookie dough and my fondant without a rolling pin.

A full-size bottle of Ultimate Margarita Mix is the perfect alternative to a rolling pin for sugar cookie dough. When looking for rolling pin alternatives, think about what it is you are rolling out. Does it require an even thickness? Does the surface need to be smooth? If your answer to the above questions is yes; then I suggest looking for a bottle (or cylinder-shaped object) that is smooth and evenly shaped. A bottle of cognac, for example, would be a bad choice. A Grey Goose bottle would be ideal, but if your fear is damaging or dropping an expensive bottle of vodka, I would suggest using a cheap bottle of margarita mix. You may need to put a little flour on the bottle so it doesn't stick to your dough if the bottle is already a bit sticky from the margarita mix.

Rolling out my sugar cookie dough with a bottle of Ultimate Margarita Mix was no problemo. A bottle of Ultimate Margarita Mix, conversely, is not ideal for rolling out fondant. Fondant can be incredibly sticky and you really do need a very dry and smooth round object for ideal rolling. I was unable to find a decent alternative to a rolling pin for fondant, so I was forced to flatten my fondant with the palm of my hand. Was this ideal? No. Was it successful? Somewhat. Was the fondant aesthetically pleasing after I flattened it with the palm of my hand? Not at all. My fondant, although flat, had fingerprints all over it and was a bit bumpy. Fortunately, this didn't compromise the taste of my cookies!

So what is the moral of this story? Well, there are two….margarita drinkers are probably good bakers and, two, never leave home without your rolling pin! I have attached some pictures of the decorative cookies! This baking experience was a lot of fun and I loved the challenge!

Until next time…

A Room Full of Foodies

2006-11-15T21:35:00.000-05:00

I have always been fascinated by the phrase "an 800 pound gorilla in the living room." It is such a funny expression, and I guess despite its obvious, albeit figurative meaning, I have never quite understood it's meaning completely. However, in the last two years, I have developed this odd Pavlovian response when hearing the expression. My response is to look around the room aimlessly, believing that my puzzled look would actually produce an 800 pound gorilla lounging on a chaise of some sort.

Last night I took a food writing course at the Institute of Culinary Education (ICE) and somewhere between the class beginning and the class ending, I figured out that the 400 pound canary in my room is me. Lately, my feelings of disinterest, distraction and, often times, complete indifference about work, feelings of which have gone completely ignored, are really signs that I need to be doing something other than monitoring a public hearing on the recent bed bug invasion in New York City. While the subject is concededly concerning, my notes from the hearing only reflect the ingredients I needed for the recipe I chose for dinner that night. So has the elephant in the room all this time been my craving to cook, bake, create recipes, come up with fun food-related story topics and of course to write about all of it?

The students in last night's food writing class were all like-minded gourmands. They loved food, the ingredients, the recipes, the eating experiencing, the dining experience and writing about the story behind it all. For the first time in a while, I didn't feel like there was an oversize animal of some sort hanging out in a small living space. It was an inspiring experience, which I am hoping will lead to some creativity on my part to do a lot of more cooking, a lot more baking and a lot more thinking about my professional future!

Until next time…

The Apple Gala

2006-11-15T21:32:00.000-05:00

I like that name for our recent event. (I knew I should have worn a gown!)

Below you can see the fabu spread we created, and us devouring that fabu spread....

An Apple Gala

2006-11-13T23:03:00.000-05:00

Chefs in the City met tonight for an apple gala (get it, a gala is a type of apple from Washington!!). Anyway, us Chefs in the City girls decided to cook with a common ingredient this month, rather than having a theme dinner. Everyone came with great dishes! The dishes included an apple and parsnip soup that was made by our new member Megan, and had a bit of coriander in it for a nice little kick; Andrea brought some apple and potato pancakes with a horseradish dip that were crispy, light and super flavorful (must have been the oil that kept them so fresh.... (was that the reference, Andrea?); a brussel sprout and apple side dish prepared by Kendra; some pork and apple and red cabbage and apple turnovers made by Larisa; and, last, but certainly not least, a delicious apple pie made by Maggie. The dishes were all very creative and very tasty.

I was a little nervous about our apple gala. I associate apples with pies and crisps and tarts and sauces and trees and maybe blow pops, not an ingredient in a main dish or a side dish. After performing an exhaustive search of all the major cooking internet sights and NOT coming up with one interesting main dish that incorporated apples, George's Mom found a dish for pork and apple turnovers. The recipe, at first, seemed intimidating as it called for turmeric, cumin, fresh ginger, and various other spices and ingredients that I didn't have in stock, but once I got cooking, the recipe was really quite simple. Essentially, 3 inch squares (exact measurements are an absolute must - blast the math!) of puff pastry are stuffed with a pork, apple, onion, garlic, ginger, turmeric, cumin, and chili powder mix. The 3 inch squares are folded into triangles and baked for about 20 minutes. Knowing how to use a tape measure is a must for this recipe because a slightly-off 3 inch square suprisingly doesn't produce a perfect puff pastry triangle - yes, it's a conspiracy....

To make a short story long, the turnovers were a bit dry on their own. They needed a sauce. I came up with a sauce incorporating most of the spices in the turnovers, but using a hoisen garlic sauce as my base. The sauce was a reduction of hoisen sauce, honey, fresh ginger, cumin, chili powder and diced apples. I think it made the turnovers a bit more interesting to eat!

Anyway, this month's supper club was a lot of fun and a huge success. We were joined by a new member, Megan, and look forward to getting to know her better!

Until next time...

Apple Pie is Soooo Hard!

2006-11-13T00:45:00.000-05:00

All American Apple Pie Recipe

I can't even wait until tomorrow to tell you about my apple pie baking experience. I thought pie baking was in my genes as my mom and aunties are always popping them out of the oven. Not so much! I can't remember a more difficult experience in the kitchen before making and rolling out a pie crust. I was so frustrated at one point that I actually stomped on my kitchen floor. I haven't thrown a tantrum since I was in diapers but a mini-tantrum was definitely had today. Read more about it on my blog

Is she alive?

2006-11-05T22:39:00.000-05:00

Yes I am and I'm back! I've been horribly absent for a while because I decided to leave my studying until the last minute and cram like crazy until my series 7 exam last Thursday. It was an 8 hour thrill ride of an exam but when I reached the end, bleary-eyed and doubting my knowledge of stock options, I read my calculated score and didn't believe it. I passed with an 80%! As a present to myself, I finally picked up Julie and Julia and am now 90% through it - thanks Larisa, love it. Back to cooking and blogging and reading for the sheer joy of it!

Fond-tastic Times With Cookies

2006-11-05T15:14:00.000-05:00

I made some more cookies this weekend. I am starting to get a bit more comfortable with baking - although I have to say I really took the easy way out. I already had some dough in the freezer that I made last week so I saved a bunch of time by not having to make a new batch of sugar cookie dough. I also bought a package of royal icing mix, which cut down on the time it would have taken to make my icing. However, I did find that the royal icing mix directions were a little off. The directions called for adding 5 tablespoons of water to the one pound package of royal icing mix. Well, since I was only making a small batch of cookies, I decided to only make a portion of the royal icing mix. According to my math, 1/2 of a cup of royal icing mix (1/4 of a pound) and 1 1/4 tablespoons of water should have produced the desired icing peaks to form, but in reality, I needed almost an entire cup of royal icing mix. Who knows....

The exciting part of this weekend's adventures in decorative cookies was working with fondant. Fondant was the first layer of my icing for the cookies. Working with fondant was so much easier than I anticipated. I really thought that it would be one huge fond-aster, but the fondant was quite manageable. I did find it diffucult to roll it into a very thin sheet. The layer of fondant on my cookies was almost as thick as the cookie itself, but hopefully I'll get the hang of rolling fondant with practice!

As you can see from the pictures the cookies are in the shape of dog biscuits. Despite not having a dog, I just found the cookie cutter too cute to pass up! I might try to find out when Kendra's dog's birthday is and send some cookies for the occasion!

Until next time...

Baking in the City

2006-10-30T10:58:00.000-05:00

Soon we will have to link to our new blog "Bakers-in-the-City" :) Since Larisa and I decided to buy and share cookie books, here are some recipes that may be helpful --and might have been helpful before Larisa did her Weekend Tour of Baking Supply Sections of New York Grocery Stores...

Egg White Royal Icing

3 oz fresh or pasteurized egg whites (about 3 eggs)
1 lb confectioners' sugar
1/2 tsp lemon juice

Lightly whip the egg white on medium speed, using a paddle until the whites form stiff peaks -- about 3 minutes. Lower the speed and gradually add the sugar. Add lemon juice and beat on medium-high speed for 5 to 8 minutes, until icing forms medium to still peaks. (use within 1 day because of egg)

This recipe makes good "flood icing" for the center of cookies with a piped border, but its more drippy:

Glace Icing

1 lb confectioners sugar
3/8 cup milk
3/8 cup light corn syrup

Thoroughly mix sugar and milk first, until the icing is soft with a heavy-cream texture. Add the corn syrup and mix until just combined. (use within 2 weeks)

I too have been continuing with my adventures in cookies. The below creation was meant to have five or six cookies, with one reading "Happy Birthday" for my friend Michelle. Unfortunate, several cookies were damaged with icing of the illegible kind, and I was left with this.

Meringue Powder Mayhem

2006-10-29T21:05:00.000-05:00

This weekend I did a little baking. It was a very little baking– I only made 8 cookies, but the process took an entire weekend. As you all know, Kendra has been learning to make decorative cookies. Her blogs and stories have inspired me to try making decorative cookies. Here's the story…

It all started on Saturday. The process began with a trip to the book store to pick up Cookie Book: Creating Edible Works of Art; a stop at a pastry supply store to purchase some cookie cutters, pastry bags and other piping necessities; and, an exhaustive search of Murray Hill grocery stories to find meringue powder. Rather than launching into decorative cookies in the shapes of ladybugs, ice skates or Thanksgiving turkeys, I decided a basic cookie cutter shape would be better for my inaugural decorative cookie experience. I chose a heart-shape cookie cutter as it seemed the simplest, and one of the cutest!

I began by making the cookie dough, which consists of several pounds of butter, some sugar, vanilla and of course the basic dry ingredients. According to my cookbook, the recipe should produce 36 cookies, but for some reason I only had enough dough for 8 cookies. You do the math, that is not my expertise, but I am baffled….

My icing, which in baking terms is called Meringue Powder Royal Icing should really be called a Royal Mess. First, does anyone know what meringue power is? I learned that it is really a doctored up dehydrated egg white, but it is often confused as cream of tartar. Meringue power can be found in specialty baking supply stores, not in your local grocery store. I figured that out after I went to 6 different grocery stories. What is carried (sometimes) in your local grocery store is dehydrated eggs whites, which come in a container similar to baking powder and is found no where near the eggs, but in the baking aisle. Dehydrated egg whites are a decent substitute for meringue powder, but not endorsed as a substitute by the major cooking websites.

Okay, fast-forwarding to the fun part, the icing has to be molasses-thick for optimal piping. After a few piping stalls, the icing consistency was somewhat perfected – but no where near mastered. My piping abilities are lousy at best, and as you can see from the pictures I have a lot of work to do. My creativity is also lacking and I am feeling a bit defeated. My piping experience reminded me of a coloring incident in the first grade when my first grade teacher reprimanded me for my inability to color within the lines during art class. I guess I am still a bit affected by this experience and I was a little piping-shy with my cookies. But, hopefully, with enough practice, I will have some decorative Christmas cookies!

Until next time…

All About Food

2006-10-23T14:11:00.000-04:00

This weekend was all about food. The weekend was about the 3-C’s: conversation, consumerism and consumption! A wonderful fall weekend was spent in the Berkshires with George’s family. We were about a week late for ideal leaf-peeping season, but the colors were still beautiful, the weather was crisp and the food was plentiful.

Our first meal in the Berkshires was a venison chili. It hit the spot after our morning drive and seemed to nicely compliment the region, the season, and certainly our appetites. Friday evening was spent in Great Barrington, MA where we dined at a trendy Berkshire restaurant called Pearl. We were all food critics during and after the meal, and despite a few seasoning shortfalls, it was a delicious meal.

Saturday began with a wonderful potato frittata, homemade squash and pumpkin bread, strong coffee and a conversation relating to food-related activities for the day. We all took a trip back into Great Barrington to visit the Mecca of all cooking stores. It is truly a foodie’s Disneyland. I wanted to buy everything in the store, ranging from the Viking mixer to a colorful silicon baster. I, unfortunately, found the strength to forego purchasing fun little kitchen gadgets that while I needed, knew would never find a proper storage place in my tiny New York City kitchen. I guess I will continue to juice my lemons with a fork, rather than a proper lemon juicer….

Despite the emotional setback at the cooking store, this all about food weekend continued flawlessly. Saturday’s dinner consisted of a medley of fall dishes, including sautéed apples, a corn fritter of some-delicious-sort and a glaze to the chicken that was out of this world. When I get the recipe I will pass it along… Saturday ended with a competitive scrabble game, in which the winning word was again, food-related. George and I took home the gold with “Nacho” – a nice triple word score that brought us into the lead.

This all about food weekend was gastro-fabulous. It seemed as if every conversation centered on food (Rutgers football conversations aside…). I even found my next supper club recipe – a pork and apple turnover dish! All in all, a weekend spent with like-minded gourmands is never a disappointment.

Until next time…

My Culinary Bible

2006-10-15T21:48:00.000-04:00

Every chef has their cooking bible of sorts, right? For many, that cooking bible, or favorite cookbook, might be "The Joy of Cooking" or Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking." For me, it is "The Fannie Farmer Cookbook." Seven years ago, my Mom gave me Marion Cunningham's great classic cookbook for my birthday and since then, it has served as my everyday cooking guide. Like "The Joy of Cooking," arguably the first user-friendly cookbook, Fannie Farmer is complete with helpful cooking and baking tips, liquid and dry measure equivalents, temperature and oven heat definitions, and of course a comprehensive glossary of every culinary term imaginable.

What I like most about the cookbook is its simplicity. There are no frills to the recipes, no complicated steps, no laborious preparations for a simple roast chicken – just easy to follow, simple, but perfectly tested recipes. The recipes are also basic enough that any dish could be doctored to your own sophistication.

This weekend, Fannie and I bonded over pumpkin bread. I wanted to bake this weekend, rather than cook, and as it was a glorious Fall weekend in the Big Apple, I decided on pumpkin bread. Fannie's recipe, which calls for flour, sugar, baking soda, a pinch of salt, pumpkin puree, a medley of aromatic spices, a tad of vegetable oil and ground walnuts could not be more simple. In no time, my pumpkin bread batter was assembled and my kitchen was taking on the smells of something far better than City living.

Of course no dish in my apartment is made without drama, and there is always some culinary twist (like an oven that takes three times as long to cook anything), but Fannie's simple pumpkin bread recipe was far from tasting simple. After three hours of baking (I could have baked the bread faster using my hair dryer), the bread was perfectly pumpkiney, perfectly seasoned and perfectly delicious. I owe it all to my Fannie Farmer Cookbook!

Until next time...

Autumn in New York

2006-10-11T22:09:00.000-04:00

As briefly mentioned in Larisa's harrowing story below, we had a grand 'ole time at our Fall Harvest meeting on Monday. Larisa's soup was amazing and it's going to be near the top of my "to try" list of recipes. Besides being gorgeous, it had a rich, sweet taste and velvety texture.

Kendra, our lovely hostess of the night, made a maple syrup glazed roast pork loin. I forgot to get a picture of it before we sliced in, but you can see it on the plate below. It was juicy and the glaze was just right.

Taking on the vegetable once again, I cooked down some ratatouille. When thinking of fall vegetables, this simple stew of tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant, onion and herbs leapt to the forefront of my mind.

To end our evening of laughter, stories, recipe sharing, and talk of borrowing Kendra's loveable dog and forgetting to return him, our hostess whipped up a dessert of roasted pears and ice cream. Although it didn't feel like fall with temps reaching 80 degrees, I think we've prepared ourselves for the autumn in New York that is to come.

A Veritable Squash Squall

2006-10-10T19:54:00.000-04:00

The theme for this month’s supper club was “A Fall Harvest.” Since the leaves are starting to change colors, and the fall is certainly here (despite NYC’s perpetual 75 degree summer heat) and the fall vegetables are just too delicious to pass up, a fall harvest themed supper club was in order. Since there is nothing more “fall” then squash and pumpkins (well maybe apples, beets, and perhaps brussel sprouts), I decided a squash soup would be appropriate for the occasion. Specifically, I chose a butternut squash recipe as my contribution to this month’s supper club.

I really wanted to do this fall harvest thing properly and thought the most proper butternut squash was one bought in some country pumpkin patch or the Union Square Farmers Market. Unfortunately, I didn’t have easy access to a country pumpkin patch and instead of taking a 30 minute break from work to dash down to Union Square; my oh-so demanding boss thought it would be better if I spent our clients’ money by researching proper croquet attire for her upcoming weekend garden party. (No Joke). As such, I resorted to purchasing two butternut squash at the local specialty store, which doesn’t carry any ripe produce. The butternut squash I bought was the size of a football and had the weight of a bowling ball. Actually, George used the butternut squash as a football while watching the games on Saturday. We were subsequently fined by the landlord after an incomplete pass resulted in a squash size crater in the floor….

Anyway, so this simple squash soup turned out to be an arduous and dangerous task. In order to make squash soup, the rock-hard squash had to be peeled and chopped into 1-inch cubes. Sounds simple, right? Well, with a dull knife, albeit the size of a machete, the task was not simple. I almost accidentally amputated my hand. After quickly realizing that I would loose a limb and slowly bleed to death as I was home alone on this squash peeling adventure, I decided to use a vegetable peeler to peel the skin. After what seemed to be an eternity peeling, my squash was ready to simmer in the soup pot.

The rest of the recipe was quite simple and my soup turned out quite nicely. After I had roughly 8 pounds of chopped squash, I diced an onion and let the onion-squash mixture cook for about 20 minutes. I then added chicken broth, a little salt and pepper, and a few shakes of nutmeg. The recipe actually didn’t call for nutmeg, but without the extra spice, the soup was a bit boring. I then let the soup simmer for about 40 minutes. At the last minute, I added a few teaspoons of heavy cream and paprika to garnish. Some pictures are attached.

I believe my fall harvest soup was a success, but even more of a success is that I am alive to tell the story!

Until next time.

Adventures in Cookies

2006-10-04T13:33:00.000-04:00

As you can see, I've recently had more adventures in cookies as I ride the rocky road to cookie-basket nirvana.

My cookies seem to be progressively getting better, at the least. And I joyfully learn little fun lessons along the way....for example, take great care with food coloring as it may drip and you may inadvertently step on it, and spread little red marks all over the floor and carpet as you walk this way and that...

I also eat cookies along the way...leaving a crumbly trail of broken hearts, legless stars, and bitemarked pumpkins in my wake.

Of course, I only do so in the name of research, seeking a stick-sturdy, low crumble, yet deliciously edible creation.

The Magical Roast Chicken

2006-10-02T15:02:00.000-04:00

I believe Julia Child routinely preached that there was nothing finer than a roast chicken. She was right – there is really something quite special about a roast chicken. For me, a roast chicken is my comfort food, it would be my last supper and it's Proustian effects - the dozens of memories that are only ever resurrected by the smells and sounds of a roast chicken cooking in the oven - are just some of the finer things about a roast chicken.

The house I grew up in was architecturally ideal for roasting a chicken. If I stood in the upstairs hallway on any given Fall Sunday evening, I could smell the tarragon, the herbed butter and that delicate roast chicken fat cooking in the oven. If I listened very closely, I could hear over the Broncos football game the crackling of fat drippings on the bottom of the roasting pan.

A roast chicken, accompanied by mashed, or smashed, potatoes and a Fall vegetable is immeasurably magical to me. The meal becomes so much more than the taste of the chicken. A roast chicken means that it is a new season, the evenings are crisp and the days are shorter. But, perhaps more importantly, a roast chicken means a family dinner.

On Saturday, George's brother, who is a chef in New York City, made a delicious roast chicken (a picture is included). He stuffed the skin of the chicken with a truffle-herb butter spread that added a golden crispness to the skin that when bitten was immediately humbling. At first bite, I was transported back to when I was 13, quietly sitting in the upstairs hallway of my parents house on an October Sunday, enjoying the smell of a chicken roasting in the oven, listening to the slight crackle of the drippings in the roasting pan, and hearing the sounds of an instant replay detailing a Hail Mary thrown by John Elway. There really is nothing finer and magical than a roast chicken.

Until next time…

Mastering the Art of Grilling Zucchini

2006-09-24T20:52:00.000-04:00

To somewhat play off of Julia Child, I believe I have "mastered the art" of grilling zucchini. Although the concept of grilling zucchini, or any other good grilling vegetable for that matter (squash, eggplant, peppers, etc…) seems perhaps simple, finding the perfect blend of seasonings takes a bit of practice. But, as the old adage goes, practice makes perfect, or for purposes of this blog, mastery.

As you all know, I live in New York City and although I sell the dilapidated fire escape outside my living room window as "outdoor space," I don't have functional outdoor space for grilling. In fact, I don't even have a grill. So, go ahead, judge me; how can I master grilling zucchini without a barbeque…but fear not, the grilling pan is a decent substitute.

Here is the technique – or rite to mastery if you prefer. I begin this culinary journey by taking zucchinis and cutting them in half lengthwise. I assemble my halved zucchinis on a plate and drizzle them with extra-virgin olive oil. I season the zucchinis with sea salt, black pepper, garlic powder and a heavy dose of paprika. As I season my zucchinis, my grill pan is heating so when I am ready to grill, so is my pan.

The grilling process is relatively quick. I grill the zucchinis for about 6 minutes a side. If you prefer your zucchinis well-grilled, maybe grill the zucchinis for about 8-10 minutes a side. I, however, take my zucchinis on the al dente side, so 6 minutes a side does the trick! After 12 minutes of good grilling, plate and serve the zucchinis.

So that is it. Even though it is quite simple, I struggled with finding the right seasonings for a while. In my early days of zucchini grilling, I limited my spices to just salt and pepper. Admittedly, I enjoyed the crunch of a coarse sea salt, but I found the combination to be a bit boring. I then began to add basil (fresh or dried) and found that it didn't do much for the flavor. Finally, I discovered paprika – a spice that rarely gets lifted out of my spice cabinet, but is so ambiguously versatile. The paprika adds a sweet smokiness to the zucchini, which at first might be a bit mysterious to any palate that is paprika-challenged. But, upon discovery, it quickly turns any novice zucchini griller into a master zucchini griller.

From one zucchini grill master to a soon-to-be-another, marry the grilled zucchini with a parmesan encrusted grilled chicken breast and a dry white and you have yourself quite a dinner.

Until next time…

A Culinary Calm

2006-09-20T20:51:00.000-04:00

I have been feeling like I have been in a bit of a cooking lull lately. My last few meals have been awful, I have been ordering take-out more, and my dietary habits are just abysmal. Over the last several weeks, I have developed the most unhealthy obsession with Baked Cheetos – not a proper snack whatsoever! Admittedly, the marketing is by far the most appealing aspect of the snack (Baked, not fried in a vat of nuclear waste), but why my sudden disinterest in good, tasty, and healthy food? Why the culinary calm?

To illustrate this hiatus, or perhaps minor inattentiveness, about a week ago, I decided to make a pasta dish using some aging red peppers I had in my fridge. Surprisingly, unlike cheese or wine, red peppers do not get better with age… But, committed to using them, rather than wasting them, I found a pasta recipe that called for red peppers, Fontina cheese, an assortment of wild mushrooms (porcini, oyster and cremini mushrooms) and marjoram. As an aside, oyster mushrooms are by far one of the most disgusting fungi I have ever eaten. With a taste that resembles something between sour milk and an old sink sponge, I am just not sure what role oyster mushrooms play on the food stage, or, in the very least, this pasta dish.

Anyway, so after assembling all the ingredients, including the wheelbarrow size portion of Fontina cheese, a dash too much of marjoram and the nasty oyster mushrooms (all the while thinking that there was nothing wrong with this combination), George and I sat down for what could have been our last supper. And with this Biblical reference, I only mean that we prayed we would survive the dining experience. This pasta dish was awful, my cooking was awful and the smell in the apartment was awful.

Since this experience, along with a few other unremarkable dinners, I have been a little kitchen shy. In the last few weeks I have resorted to Baked Cheetos, processed food and a bad attitude. Believing that a good diet is directly related to a good attitude (certainly medication helps too); I need to immediately reverse this culinary lull because I fear that I am falling into a bit of a gastro-depression. As an intervention is desperately needed, and knowing that only I can perform such an intervention, I am pledging that as of today, I am on the Baked Cheetos wagon and back off the (attentive) cooking wagon. Let's also hope that this little culinary hiatus was just the calm before the storm of great cooking to come!

Until next time…

Baby Steps

2006-09-20T11:34:00.000-04:00

Due to my recent, quite moderate, successes in the kitchen, a dream has begun to percolate that I could make money creating decorated cookie designs. In my dreams, my creations look like this, but -- of course -- better:

In reality, so far I have this:

Hmmm....so close, and yet NOT so close

Vietnamese Sandwich in LES

2006-09-18T23:19:00.000-04:00

If you want to be transported to a state of sandwich nirvana, visit Nicky's Vietnamese Sandwich Shop on 2nd St between Avenue A and B. Very small, not so pretty, but they make a mean sandwich with incredibly fresh ingredients. We tried the "classic" and the portabello. Both were on good quality, crispy french bread with pickled carrots and cucumber. The "classic" sandwich added to this a shmear of pate, ham, and cilantro. The vegetarian friendly portabello version added marinated and grilled portabello. I've already started trying to concoct a route that would get me there and back in time for my lunch hour...

Real Vermont food

2006-09-12T13:22:00.000-04:00

Here's my first blog, about food from my weekend in Vermont. No, this is not The Tomato That Cost $4.50! :) ...These tomatoes, and beans, were picked from the overgrown-yet-still-producing garden. (The pie in the background was hand picked at a local bakery.)

....A totally free tomato, what a concept. And it was definitely organic. No pesticides were used to produce this tomato; in fact, it appeared as if nothing whatsoever was done to that garden and this tomato still grew. The whole garden in fact was quite "organic"( i.e. full of bugs).

Speaking of organic, anything you want to buy in Vermont can be had organic. Beer? Check. Coffee? Check.

We picked up the corn at the farmers market -- it was so sweet and juicy. And I love cooking corn on the "barbie" right in its own husk. Sooo yummy!

This is entertainment at the farmers market. They may in fact be the farmers.

My dad is using a starter to get the barbie going -- placed carefully and expertly RIGHT next to the all-wood house. Please note that if the can were to be blown or knocked over and the wood paneling of the house were not sufficient to instantly catch on fire, conveniently located directly below the can is a winter's worth of wood.

Cheers to real food!

P.S. If anyone would like to rent a gorgeous house in Vermont with its own name ("Windsong")(always a plus!), here it is http://http://www.sugarbush.com/realestatelisting.aspx?id=2781

Summer Italian Feast

2006-09-12T11:58:00.001-04:00

We had our latest meeting on a beautiful evening in Brooklyn Heights. With fresh tomatoes in abundance in September, what better way to use them up than with an Italian meal?

	The host made some crispy on the outside, creamy on the inside risotto cakes. Kendra made an attempt (successfully) with focaccia, drizzled with honey and blue cheese. She also made up for skipping our last meeting and therefore depriving us of chocolate by whipping up a chocolate ricotta pie with pine nuts and crumb crust.
	Larisa brought some manicotti crepes, topped with marinara. The crepes were a perfect casing for the creamy ricotto and herbs within. Our newbie, Brittany, supplied the group with an Italian staple - pasta with clean and fresh tasting marinara. I baked some eggplant parmesan, thinking a little eggplant would offset the cheese and chocolate… and wine. I’ll justify our indulgence by saying that yes, yes it did.
	After our fabulous meal and many important discussions, we adjourned for a quick glimpse of Andrea’s view of lower Manhattan from the promenade. Being September 11, we had an unusual scene of 2 bright lights in place of the fallen twin towers.

The Proper Snack

2006-09-08T15:00:00.000-04:00

The question of what is a proper snack has recently arisen. On my way home from work the other day, I started complaining to a friend that I was completely famished and that I couldn’t wait until dinner. My friend, who also happens to be a co-worker and coincidently a neighbor, mentioned that she had a snack-size bag of pretzels around 4pm, but she didn’t consider it to be a proper snack.

As I tend to dwell on the words people choose to describe things, I found myself deep in thought over what is a proper snack. The work “proper” threw me for a loop. Generally, I consider snacks to be either good, healthy, perhaps satisfying, but never proper. A proper snack, however, suggests something that is appropriate or suitable, or even fitting, lending a proper snack to be associated with time and substance. I enjoy snacking, and generally do so to satisfy an immediate hunger or boredom, but when presented with determining what I would consider a proper snack, I found myself a bit overwhelmed.

To alleviate this onset of improper stress, I polled a few friends and family members to get their ideas on what is considered to be their proper snacks. The results, which I found quite revealing, reflected a general understanding and appreciation for a proper snack, rather than just a short-term hunger fix. Here are the results.

Brittany: “My most appropriate snack is French bread dipped in really good olive oil…with some salt added, preferably snacked on while making dinner.”
Kristina: “McVities Hob Nobs”
Josh: “I like warm soppresetta slices with pieces of aged Romano and some crusty Italian bread.”
Dave: “Cayenne flavored pistachio nuts”
Andrew: “I find that a well-timed Green Tea suppresses hunger for a few hours until you are able to eat a ‘proper’ meal. When hungry, one should always ask themselves, ‘where would I be without my physical beauty?’ In most cases, the answer is not as appealing as the snack you are considering.”

I guess my point in this is that my friends value a proper snack. Sure we all graze and munch because we can, but if we were to carefully choose a proper snack, we would do so wisely and competently. My father’s response further solidified this perhaps innate, or more selective, characteristic we all seem to have. His response was, “I was going to choose a carrot with a slice of cheddar cheese, but then I thought, no, wait, think on this.” So did I throw people off by the term “proper,” or do we all associate a proper snack with the most perfect snack?

For me, after much polling and deliberation, I can safely say that my most proper snack is a thin rice cracker with a soft cheese, probably St. Andre, around 5:30pm before I begin to make dinner. But, to put this all in some perspective, I wouldn’t pass up a 6-foot party hoagie at 2pm if it were given to me!

Until next time…

Sausage, Peppers and Onions, Oh My!

2006-09-01T17:20:00.000-04:00

The idea of a sausage and pepper sandwich was completely foreign to me until 2003. I had to have heard about this sandwich before then, especially since I grew up on Long Island where there is a deli on every corner, but I really don't remember ever having a run-in with a sausage and pepper sandwich until 2003. Is it an Italian sandwich, or the New York version of a Jersey Shore hoagie, or did I just grow up in a sandwich deprived household? Probably the latter, but I will mention that my father is a cheese-steak hoagie, "walk-the-boards" type of a guy.

Anyway, in 2003, while living in Albany, my good friend Maureen introduced me to the sausage and pepper sandwich. I remember the day she asked me to join her and her family for a sausage and pepper sandwich dinner. My first thought was, "oh, how plebeian," but in the interest of maintaining my friendship with Maureen and also maintaining my curiosity for all food, I agreed to join her for dinner. So, in 2003, I had my first sausage and pepper sandwich and quickly developed a deep love for the wonderful delicacy. I say delicacy, because there is nothing plebeian or street-fairish about this sandwich. It is truly a sophisticated sandwich.

I have been "on vacation" this week and have had a lot of time for the truly important things in life, i.e., cooking and eating. As Maureen has been on my mind a lot lately, I decided to make sausage and pepper sandwiches. The task presented itself as a daunting one, and I won't lie, I was a nervous wreck making them. If I were eating alone, I would be fearless , but because my dining partner, a.k.a. my boyfriend, has caste this Hester Prynnish, stigmatizing "sandwich-virgin" label on me, and it will take a light in the sky in the shape of a sandwich to erase this label, I knew that I had to succeed with this dish. Yes, my boyfriend is a sandwich guy. I know this because when I met him, he considered it a selling point that he had a deli-slicer in his kitchen. So, needless to say, I felt the pressure to make a good sausage and pepper sandwich as he is quick to judge any sandwich that comes across his plate.

I began this sandwich making adventure by slicing a Vidalia onion, mincing a few cloves of garlic, slicing some green peppers and sautéing them in a little olive oil. Maureen's recipe also calls for about a cup of red wine, cooked until it is reduced, and a can of tomato sauce. The whole mixture is seasoned with salt, pepper and oregano.

Well, of course, I didn't have the oregano so I decided to substitute it with basil. Poor choice. My red wine reduced too much, my tomato sauce tasted like ketchup and for some reason, my pepper and onion mixture didn't have that sauciness I wanted. Maureen's sausage and pepper sandwiches are juicy and the bread soaks up all that wonderful sauce so nicely. My sandwiches were dry, too basiley and dreadfully boring. George didn't say anything, but I knew that while he was eating he was recasting that ever-stigmatizing judgment that reeked of "damn your Northern European background." Well, it's true, I don't know sandwiches. But, once again, in the interest of maintaining my curiosity for all food, I plan on taking a sausage and pepper sandwich lesson from Maureen!

A Small Town Celebrates a Golden Anniversary

2006-08-28T13:16:00.000-04:00

This weekend marked the 50th anniversary of Cutchogue's Annual Chicken Barbeque. For 50 years, our local volunteer fire department has held a chicken barbeque on one of the last Saturdays in August. The Chicken Barbeque is Cutchogue's Bastille Day – it is a highly celebrated event that feels like a celebration of independence, but probably really only symbolizes the last hurrah of the summer.

Each year the Fire Department sells 3,000 tickets. The tickets are sold on one day, for just a few hours, a few months prior to the actual barbeque. A ticket is an extremely hot commodity. It is more than just an admission to the barbeque; it is a rite of passage, a status symbol, and perhaps a true indicator that you are "in" in Cutchogue.

For decades, the barbeque has been a small town event that draws a very local crowd. In the past, the barbeque was poorly attended and forced the Fire Department to go door-to-door in the community in an attempt to sell tickets. However, in the last 10 years, the Chicken Barbeque has tured into what the Hampton Classic might be to the Hamptons. When Martha Stewart turned up at the barbeque a few years ago the tone of our local barbeque was permanently changed. Fortunately, the crowd is still very much a local one, but it wouldn't be uncommon to see a food writer for the Times savoring some chicken and local corn.

On top of all the festivities, the tailgating before entering into the tent to feast, or the endless number of conversations with old friends, the barbeque is really all about the food. A ticket gets you a half of a chicken, unlimited local corn on the cob, potato salad, fresh local tomato and cucumber salad, buckets of beer and ice cream with fresh local peaches. It is truly a night of indulgence. The chicken is grilled to perfection with a barbeque sauce that has been a trade secret for 50 years. The barbeque sauce recipe is analogous to a fraternity ritual - the volunteer firemen take the recipe with them to their graves.

The chickens are barbequed by the hundreds over huge open grills in the fire department's parking lot. Days before the actual barbeque, the Ladies Auxiliary shuck thousands of ears of corn, peel thousands of potatoes for the potato salad, and peel and chop thousands of cucumbers for the tomato-cucumber salad. Each year, the Chicken Barbeque lives up to its reputation. It is an amazing night because each element of the barbeque – the food, the drinks, the people and the ambiance – come together in perfect harmony. It was truly a night of celebration and I cannot wait until next year.

Until next time…

Is it Me or the Times that's Behind the Times

2006-08-23T23:02:00.000-04:00

The lead article in today’s Food section of the Times is entitled “A Passion for Mussels.” The gist of this article is that mussels, which historically have been beloved in France, are gaining popularity and a stronger fan base in the United States. Not that I mind this, and actually hope that this popularity for les choses frainçaises isn’t limited to just mussels, but isn't this also the gist of what I wrote about 2 days go?

Thank goodness a United States District Court in Detroit ruled that the National Security Agency’s wiretapping policies (a.k.a. “Dick’s Law”) violated constitutional rights because I have been starting to sense that some big brother has been listening to the voices in my head.

Let me give you all a rough chronology of why I believe I have been wiretapped. In 1996, I came up with a great idea for a novel. The novel, written in the first person, would discuss the trials and tribulations of a flighty, not-so-pulled-together single woman in her 30s, who in the midst of an unhealthy obsession with her weight and dead-end job, pines for a steady boyfriend and some direction in her chaotic world. Shortly after this brilliant thought came to mind, the novel “Bridget Jones's Diary” was published. Coincidence? I think not.

Then, in 2003, I had another earth-shattering, this is it, $$$, I have a brilliant idea for a movie type of moment. On a cool Pasadena, California morning in January 2003 while watching the Rose Parade pass by, I began thinking about the pressures of being a member of a marching band. The constant stress to stay in some sort of marching formation, remembering your spare tuba mouthpiece, not buckling under the pressure by puckering too heard and breaking a clarinet reed, or not having a perfectly polished brass button on your uniform must be just overwhelming. Thinking that all of the stresses are just taken too seriously, I came up with an idea for a movie – a parody on marching bands. Then, later in 2003, Christopher Guest made “A Mighty Wind,” a parody and mockumentary about folk singers. The similarities to Mr. Guest’s movie and my idea lead me to believe, that once again, I was wiretapped…

I could go on and on. There have been too many moments in which I have felt that my creative inspirations or my creative thoughts have been blindly robbed from me. And now this! Is it possible, yet again, that my thoughts were used to create someone else's piece of work? Were the mussels I wrote about the basis of the Times’ story? In all seriousness, I realize that this didn't happen, but I should mention that I have been eating mussels all my life. Mussels have always been an important aspect of the dining scene on the North Fork of Long Island. So is the Times behind the times on this phenomenon?

But, in the interest of civil justice and constitutional integrity, I sure hope that W’s cohorts don’t stir the appeals pot too much. I would like my mussels to steam for a little longer next time…

Until next time…

You Say Tomato, I Say Heirloom

2006-08-21T16:54:00.000-04:00

Spring/Summer/Fall are great times for someone who enjoys cooking seasonally. I’m especially fond of late summer because of a fruit we all know and love… the tomato of course! Growing up with parents who were avid gardeners, I was exposed to all sorts of seasonal local vegetables and fruit. When the tomatoes were finally ripening, this was a magical time. There is nothing else quite like a red and ripened tomato picked fresh from the vine. Just slice into a still-warm tomato, a dash of salt and grind of pepper produces the most delectable treat. Because of this, tomatoes were consumed every day in many ways during their season.

Now that I’m in the city with not even a small patch of land for a vegetable garden, I have to rely on the farmer’s market for local produce. The tomatoes sold in grocery stores just don’t cut it when I know there’s better out there. So off to Union Square I go to grab what I can of the green market’s offerings. In preparation for a dinner party thrown for my friend Boris who came to visit, I decided to pick up some heirloom tomatoes. Wandering around the market, I notice a big difference in price, with Long Island heirloom tomatoes tipping the scale at $3.50/lb and Jersey vine-ripened at only $2/lb. To put this in perspective, the tomatoes in my grocery are only 69 cents/lb but aren’t remotely close to the true tomato flavor I’ve become accustomed to.

What to do with these choices? Hmm, I know! I’ll have a taste-testing using my unsuspecting dinner guests. So I grabbed a few different heirlooms, a couple Jersey vine-ripened and headed home to make a fresh tomato vinaigrette salad. Could they tell the difference between LI heirloom and Jersey vine-ripened? Half of them guessed right. It was pretty tough, I have to hand it to Jersey because they grow a mean tomato. Everyone agreed that one of the heirlooms was by far the best tasting. It was a huge yellow and red tomato (see pic below) and it was also by far the prettiest. Perhaps this gives it an advantage as they say we eat with our eyes before our mouths. Another “pretty” tomato was red with yellow stripes but when it came to the taste-test, it lost every time. It was far too dry and seemed almost like a cross between a pepper and a tomato. Everyone agreed that although the Jersey tomato tasted good, the other two heirlooms won out with a fuller tomato flavor. Long live the tomato, wherever it may be grown!

More on Mussels Thanks to Maggie!

2006-08-21T14:58:00.000-04:00

Ever since I read Maggie’s latest posting proclaiming her recent PEI purchase, I have had a huge craving for those succulent bivalves. On Friday, a good friend and I went to a fun, trendy restaurant in Chelsea called Cafeteria. Cafeteria is very similar to Diner 24 (see supra Diner 24 No More) in the sense that the food is retro-comfo (retro comfort food), but I find Cafeteria to be a bit busier and more hip than Diner 24. Unlike Diner 24, you will wait for a table at Cafeteria.

My usual fare at Cafeteria is the Country Fried Steak, a la heart attack on a plate. As a quick aside, the country fried steak is a breaded, deep-fried steak served over garlicky mashed potatoes with a spinach and white mushroom sauce. It is a melt-in-your-mouth, can’t get enough, don’t talk to me while I am eating my country fried steak, but I hate myself after the fact type of meal.

Anyway, on this occasion, I decided to preserve my arteries and I ordered the mussels since it has been difficult for me to think of much else since I read Maggie’s blog. The mussels at Cafeteria were advertised as Prince Edward Island (PEI), but knowing a bit about the popular PEIs, my Nancy Drew sleuthing instinct instantly alerted me that there was something fishy about the mussels on my plate. The mussels were a little beardy and barnacley to be PEIs. PEIs, as Maggie says are farm-raised/cultured mussels grown in mesh stockings from ropes hung in the water. The mussels actually never touch the ocean floor, creating an ideal condition for growth. Because PEIs are raised this way, the mussels tend to be cleaner and free of the grit usually found in other types of mussels.

Another clue that tipped me off to the PEI misnomer was the size of the mussel. The mussels were quite small, despite having a large shell. PEIs are supposed to be larger and meatier. On top of this bait and switch, the mussels were prepared in a cream based broth – not the wonderful white wine sauce I was craving. I still enjoyed the sauce and experienced incredible pleasure dipping my crusty garlic toast in the sauce, but my Cafeteria mussel eating experience just didn’t satisfy the craving Maggie’s blog created.

But, don’t worry; I got my mussel (a la Maggie’s mussels) fix. On Saturday, knowing how I needed mussels my way in a bad way, George made a mussel dish to end all mussel cravings. We found PEIs (the real deal), put them in an aluminum baking pan with chopped shallots, garlic, celery, a stick of butter and an entire bottle of pinot grigio. George covered the pain with foil, put the pan right on the grill and steamed them to the utmost perfection. And he achieved perfection! George shot a bivalve birdie on this PGA golf championship weekend with this mussel dish…

Maggie, hats off to you! Your blog truly inspired my weekend eating experience.

Until next time…

P.S.: Larisa's Food Wire Flash – This just in, a delicious mushroom gravy was made this weekend and was the perfect compliment to a perfectly seasoned and perfectly grilled pork tenderloin.

Amateur to Ace (Let's Hope…)

2006-08-18T17:16:00.000-04:00

I recently had a moment of self-discovery, self-realization, a Sartre-like experience, yada yada. I was sitting on the beach – the perfect place to find your inner philosopher – when I came to the conclusion that I need a lot of help. Well, that is a bit of an exaggeration, but I did realize that all the complaining I have been doing lately on the trials and tribulations of being an Associate (a.k.a. a glorified secretary) just hasn't produced the desired results. Unbelievable, I know…

Realizing that if I don't make changes I will become the perfect spokesperson for any major pharmaceutical anti-depressant medication, I decided to take life by the horns, the reins, anything I could grab, and do more of what I love to do.

I signed up for two classes at the Institute of Culinary Education (ICE). Both classes will be offered this October and are part of ICE's recreational division. (If only these classes counted towards my continuing legal education requirements…) This is really great news for you readers since I will, officially, become credible in October!

I signed up for "French-Mexican Dinner." Having a strong affinity for everything French (including the French) and an addiction to guacamole, I thought this class was perfect for me. The class is all about French cooking techniques found in Mexican cuisine. The second class I will be taking is "Breaking into Food Writing." Looking for any opportunity to break into another career, I signed up thinking that this might be the golden ticket to my success. The class description tells me that I will learn innovative ways to think about the food's story and how magazine editors will stand up and take notice of my work! (And the Pulitzer goes to…)

Hopefully these classes will provide the mental catharsis I need. But, more importantly, I hope to lean more about different cooking techniques and different ethnic influences in food preparation. Better yet, hopefully the writing class will allow me to better explain what I hope to experience!

Until next time…

Bazal Talk

2006-08-17T18:19:00.000-04:00

I recently made a delicious tomato, basil, mozzarella salad, a.k.a. Caprese. I make my tomato, basil, mozzarella salad (TBMS) a bit differently than most – well, that is what I am guessing. I haven’t made this salad for many people outside my family, but I was told by my friend that she had never seen a TBMS made the way that I make it. It's quite simple. Put a few pieces of lettuce (I prefer bibb lettuce) on a platter. This serves as your bed of lettuce (go figure). I slice my tomatoes about 1/3 of an inch thick, my mozzarella about 1/4 of an inch thick, and my red onion is sliced very thin. I arrange the ingredients in a circle on the bed of lettuce in the following fashion: tomato, mozzarella, red onion and repeat. It's very simple. I then take my fresh basil and roughly chop it so becomes a sort-of basil confetti. I sprinkle the basil in no particular fashion on top of the salad. I dress my salad with extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar that is blended with a hint of Dijon mustard. I'm not sure how this salad could be made differently – maybe chopped and mixed together?

So I made this salad to bring to a barbeque with close family friends on Saturday. The salad was a huge hit, was completely eaten, and became the topic of the entire dinner conversation. Let me first set the stage as to how this conversation started. I was (aside from my family) the youngest person at this barbeque by 60 years. Needless to say, I was not only a guest, but also played the role of the host, a server and dish washer as this wasn't the most mobile and self-sufficient crowd.

It all began with this woman, who for purposes of illustration is a cross between Holly Golightly (Breakfast At Tiffany’s), Madeline Albright and maybe even Queen Elizabeth. She is a bit of a royal, somewhat flighty, intellectual snob – just a royal pain in the arse actually.

So I am sitting at the picnic table savoring in my TBMS goodness when Holiness Golightly-Albright asks for more Caprese. Of course having to bow and oblige, my first thought is what the heck is Caprese? Thinking that this might be just an Alzheimer's moment, I glance at her plate for a crumb of a hint left by some higher power of what might be Caprese. Saved by a few red onion remains, I conclude that this woman must mean the TBMS and I regretfully inform her that there isn't any TBMS left.

Still completely confused as to what Caprese is, I get back to my own TBMS. No sooner after another forkful am I interrupted again by her Royalness asking, "where can I get his bazal." Bazal? Bazal. Bazal…

Just when I am about to ask her if she means the basil, the next character chimes in, "What the hell is this bazal you speak of and is it on my plate?" For purposes of this illustration, this character is best described as an 80 year old, 6’7’’ man who has a size 20 shoe, no sense of balance (despite having cruise line piers for feet) and who doesn't sensor anything he says. We will call him Bill. I say this in the most endearing manner – this man is a close family friend and I respect and love him dearly.

So Ms. Golightly-Albright pipes in, "it’s that most deliciously fresh and fragment herb in your Caprese." Confusing Bill even further by this Caprese comment, Bill says, "I have never heard of bazal. Where can I get this bazal? Now, everyone at the table is doing there best not to laugh, but someone finally says, "Bill, it's basil!!"

The night passed with fewer incidents or comedy, and after getting everyone to bed (I'm kidding), I ventured home to look up Caprese and the pronunciations of basil. Caprese is, according to my sources, a simple salad consisting of fresh tomatoes, basil and mozzarella. Bazal, is no such thing. It's basil – pronounced basil. So does Madeline Golightly-Albright have a more sophisticated tongue and is pronouncing basil in Italian, or is bazal just an affectation?

Is my basil to her bazal, my tomato to her tamato? Or is my Demi Moore her Demeeee Moore? Whether it is an affectation or a sign of a more seasoned palate, it certainly took away from the very simple TBMS. Once again, place the tomato, mozzarella, and red onion on the bed of lettuce and repeat!

Until next time...

Walk the walk and talk the "seafood talk"

2006-08-16T10:44:00.000-04:00

Trips to the New Hampshire/Maine area mean to me lobster, shopping, walks on the beach, and lobster. Did I mention lobster? I have two aunties up there and will make up any excuse to go for a visit. I had a great two days and enjoyed fabulous meals as culinary skills run in the family. Sad to leave Sunday night, the only thing that held back the tears was the seafood market around the corner that I would definitely hit up on the way out.

My cooler was waiting to be filled and I did it no injustice that day. “Seafood talk” is big in the New England area. “Seafood talk” is what I like to refer to as talking up the local catch. An example - “Oh, you’ve got to try this lobster! It was just brought in off the boat a minute ago!” So I just had to get some lobster, scallops, shrimp, swordfish (flash-frozen and flown in from Australia), and rope-grown mussels. Mikey from Seaport Market hooked me up as usual. Thanks Mikey!!

It’s becoming a tradition to pick up a couple bags of PEI (Prince Edward Island) rope-grown mussels and cook them up within the next day for friends back in the city. A simple recipe for steaming mussels passed on to me by Aunt Linda produces a feast. A fresh baguette to dip in the juice is key to enjoying the meal. Now that my short visit is over and the mussels have been steamed and quickly demolished, I’ll start thinking up another excuse to visit my aunts again…

Molto Mario: Please Forgive Me

2006-08-15T15:28:00.000-04:00

So it has taken me over a week to write this blog and I want to apologize to any loyal readers for the delay. This blog needed to be written seconds after the experience, but I felt that, emotionally, I wasn't ready until now.

Last Friday (2 Fridays ago) my boyfriend took me to Mario Batali and Joe Bastianich's new restaurant Del Posto. We had seen a show on the Food Network about the building and opening of Del Posto, and we both looked forward to seeing if Mario had succeeded in opening a 5 star Italian restaurant. Del Posto is located on the uberly-trendy West Side of Manhattan in the Meat Packing District. The restaurant is in one of those great converted factories that has a very industrial feel to it. The restaurant is also in (what I have coined as) "Celebrity Chef Central" as Masaharu Morimoto's restaurant is right across the street.

So on this once in this month experience (because seriously, you say it is a special occasion, or a once in a lifetime opportunity but that, I think, is just rhetoric for a New Yorker) we dined at one of the most expensive New York City restaurants for my birthday. For the occasion, I wore a new summer dress, a new Celine sandal and my culinary critic's hat.

From the moment we walked into Del Posto I was a critic. Even though I watched the Food Network's show on the making of this venture and I had an idea of what the restaurant was supposed to look like, I was initially stunned by the architecture and interior design of Del Posto. The ceiling was skyscraper tall, Romanesque columns everywhere, marble floors, marble stairs, marble, marble, marble. For a brief moment I thought I walked into one of those gawdy catering halls/wedding palaces somewhere in mid-Long Island. Come on, Mario, you can do better than this...you are situated in the heart of the trendy Meat Packing District…take advantage of the space and keep the industrial integrity of his building. At first, I thought the restaurant's theme should have mirrored its neighborhood – industrial, hard, exposed piping, stainless steel fixtures, but as you will soon find out, I had a change of heart.

The food, albeit spectacular, was also on my critical hit list. George (my boyfriend) and I completely splurged and we both ordered the 10 course Del Posto tasking menu. Our first dish (a cured meat medley) was palately pleasing. The second course – not so much. The second course of this eating extravaganza was a roasted summer vegetable insalate with fresh ricotta. First, let me say, that the presentation of each course achieved levels of aesthetic perfection I did not know existed. There wasn't a piece of out of place parsley, a meandering morel, or a sporadic spot of sauce. Everything was perfectly placed on every dish. As I do believe that presentation embodies much of the food's taste, I was surprised that this exquisitely crafted summer vegetable insalate had less of a summer vegetable taste and more of a parsley taste. The parsley was overpowering. I felt that with every bite, the parsley was cleansing my palate and I wasn't able to taste the flavors of the summer squash, peppers and more importantly, the ricotta.

The fourth dish (I think) was perch over truffled green beans. Even though the descriptions of each course had my mouth watering like a fire hose, I was especially excited about this fourth course. I love truffles. LOVE TRUFFLES. In fact, I will say that the smell of truffle oil is by far one of the most sexiest and sensual smells I know. Any man brave enough to wear truffle oil as cologne would make me one happy woman! I digress, but perhaps a blog dedicated to truffles is now in order.

Okay, so the highly anticipated perch and truffled green beans arrived and I took a forkful of green beans and tasted no truffle. Mario, you hathe forsaketh me… There appeared to be shaved mushrooms in the dish, but they weren't truffles. I will concede that my knowledge on the various fungi is limited, and perhaps there are flavorless/scentless truffles out there, but the dish just wasn't as good without the strong sensual flavor of the truffle I know.

In the interest of brevity, I will forgo a detailed account of each and every course and conclude by saying this. Del Posto was by far, hands down, no questions asked, the best dining and culinary experience I have ever had. I may have been wearing my critic's hat during the entire 10 courses, but my criticism was concededly pedantic.

It has taken me over a week to write this entry because Mario's sense of perfection far exceeded my novice tongue. Certainly, there was not too much parsley in my roasted summer vegetable insalate – it was probably meant to be a main ingredient, not the garnish I thought it should be. As far as the design and style of the restaurant goes, I retract the trailer trash label I gave it earlier and will say that it is precisely appropriate. The style, in all its Romanesque flare, is the perfect compliment to Mario's exquisite menu. I was wrong and Mario, my critic's hat has been apologetically removed.

Until next time…

Dessert anyone?

2006-08-09T23:25:00.000-04:00

All dessert... all night baby! We had a sugar filled night in Astoria and left our meeting feeling high.

Andrea came through with her fresh-picked blueberries from upstate and whipped up a tart with shortbread crust topped with lime curd and blueberries. So tart and sooo good.

Larisa also played up the in-season fruit with some white peaches and blackberries on shortcakes. She made a blackberry juice that was incorporated into some fresh whipped cream. Voila!

I made a "light" version of New York cheesecake swiped from the cook's illustrated book. Since peaches are everywhere I look lately, I made a peach puree to serve with the cake. Yum!

Soft-Boiled Eggs

2006-08-09T22:41:00.000-04:00

I am really not an egg person. They are somewhat tolerable scrambled, only if they are NOT scrambled in bacon fat residue (which by the way, bacon is another thing I have to remember to put on my hate list). I also once had an excellent Croque Madame sandwich that I haven’t gotten over. It was 6 years ago in Paris when I bit into that grilled ham and cheese sandwich topped with a fried egg and I remember it as if it were yesterday. Sometimes when I think about my Croque Madame sandwich experience a little tear slowly trickles down my face in honor of its memory. Omelets are also awful. Even egg white omelets are awful. They are too heavy and give me an instant migraine. No…I’m serious, I have never had an omelet that didn’t give me a headache.

So this really begs the question: why the enmity for eggs? Have I had a bad experience with eggs – sort of a Pavlovian bell-food-salvia experience? There was an incident with mandarin oranges, a text book example of respondent conditioning, which has permanently affected my ability to eat, taste, look at or buy mandarin oranges, but I can’t recall a similar egg incident.

So I put on my Nancy Drew hat and called this new found project The Quest for the Egg Enmity. I started this project by thinking about the physical characteristics of the egg; oval shaped, outer shell, messy interior that has the potential to grow into a chicken if not victimized by someone’s sunny-side-up craving. The messy interior/potential for growth is what I found most intriguing during my studies on the egg’s physical attributes. I’ll come back to this point in just a bit.

So the next stop on my quest was the internet. I wanted to look-up as many egg cooking techniques as possible hoping that one would leap off the monitor as the culprit to some past egg experience that has generated my egg aversions. There are so many egg cooking techniques. There are the infinite ways to fry an egg, there are hard-boiled eggs, soft-boiled eggs, poached eggs, scrambled eggs and deviled eggs (so appropriately named if you ask me), to name a few. Sorry, but I want to pay a little more attention to the deviled egg before announcing my egg enmity discovery. What’s up with the deviled egg? Why are they even still around and being served? Seriously, deviled eggs must be a cause for many of our society’s and country’s problems. I heard that a senior member (and by senior I mean the most senior) of the White House staff has a daily deviled egg. Case in point?

Okay, so during this nauseating review on how to cook an egg, I put the mental “red flag” next to the soft-boiled egg. Soft-boiled eggs are typically cooked by placing the egg in cold water, which is then brought quickly to a boil and set to simmer for 4-6 minutes. After 4 minutes, the egg white should be set while the egg yolk is still runny. A soft-boiled egg is eaten by cracking the shell and eating the set egg white and running yolk. Remember that scene from Jaws where Hopper and Chief Brody cut open the tiger shark and that milky substance spills out all over the dock? That’s a soft-boiled egg.

Despite this graphic description, there is something much more symbolic about the soft-boiled egg than just its hideous physical qualities. My aversions to eggs, I am discovering, are psychologically rooted. I think (emphasis strongly added) that I am not partial to eggs because for some reason I remind or associate myself with the egg. I have a tough outer shell, and for purposes of this analogy my skin is much like the firmly set egg white of a soft-boiled egg, but if you crack my shell, I can ooze out like an egg yolk. I am a soft-boiled egg. I have that egg shell appearance – confident, proud, resilient, but inside I am a completely different person. I have the potential for being great (much like the egg turning into a chicken), but right now I am still a little reactionary, ultra-sensitive and slightly undefined.

I am not at all worried by this discovery. This is what I do. I seek out projects, much like this supper club, as a way of helping me understand who I am and what I love to do (all things food related). Perhaps this little introspective journey into my egg enmity is a bit of a psychological stretch (seriously, I know it is), but I feel pretty good about it. I think I’ll have a soft-boiled egg tomorrow for breakfast.

Until next time…

Summer Salads and Mustard Mutiny

2006-08-08T21:54:00.000-04:00

After what seemed like an endless week of unbearable heat, I jetted out to the East End of Long Island for cooler temperatures and fresh farm stand produce. My inner chef was longing to cook after it's week of dormancy. Knowing that every road side farm stand on the North Fork was teaming with fresh local produce, I couldn't wait to assemble a sweet summer salad.

There is nothing better than summer salads made with the freshest ingredients. Well, maybe a few things like chocolate labs and zero balance credit cards, but a summer salad paired with a perfectly seasoned grilled steak – YUMMY! The fresh summer salad consisted of fresh corn off the cob, fresh local string beans, campari tomatoes (see supra 'Tis the Tomato), and local red onions all dressed in a shallot dijon mustard dressing.

The core ingredients of this summer salad were delicious. The corn was as sweet as candy, the string beans had a crispness to them and well, the tomatoes….melt-in-your-mouth juicy! The salad epitomized all that is unique and wonderful to the North Fork. Both the Times and Newsday this past week ran several articles on the ever changing, but wonderfully bountiful North Fork of Long Island. As I stood in my parents' kitchen shucking the local sweet corn and chopping and dicing all my summer ingredients, I couldn't help but think that those articles got it right and it just doesn't get much better than this….until the Dijon mustard created a not-so-mellow mutiny.

The dressing for this summer salad calls for shallots, Dijon mustard, lemon juice, extra-virgin olive oil and salt and pepper. I generally like the taste of a dijony dressing so in keeping with my partial palate, I added a super-sized Dijon mustard tablespoon to my dressing. Wisk, whisk, whisk, stir, stir, stir, blend, blend, blend and voila! When I tasted my fully dressed summer salad, I had a bit of a gastrotack. Too much mustard!

The portion of mustard I used might be perfect for store bought, out-of-season veges, but with the fresh local produce in my salad, the sweetness of each vegetable was lost to the overpowering mustard. I was able to dilute a little of the mustary taste with extra lemon juice, but my next summer salad will be more salad and less mustard.

Despite this Dijon debacle, my inner chef was satisfied. After a hot week in New York City, it was a wonderful treat to be cooking in cooler temperatures with the freshest ingredients on one of the best spots on Earth!

Until next time….

Tin Ceilings and Turning 27

2006-08-07T20:59:00.000-04:00

My birthday was last Thursday. As I didn’t reach some milestone age like 21, 40, 65 or 80, I felt the best way to bring in the new year was to toast to it with family over good food, drinks and conversation. My birthday celebration was perfect. Although my family and I raised several glasses to toast the occasion, the festivities, food, drinks and conversation became almost peripheral to something larger I was experiencing.

For the past 2 years, I have constantly struggled with identifying my connection to New York City. Although I have found many connections, like this supper club, more often than not I feel as if the City is so much bigger than me. Anyone who lives in NYC can attest to its madness. The City is perpetually busy, perpetually alive, transient, and eerily isolating. It often feels like I can easily get lost in it if I don’t seek out my connection to it.

To avoid this feeling of isolation or confusion, I try to find those moments or experiences that help me understand why I have decided to live here. After drinks and tapas at one of my most favorite spots (Room 18), we ventured back up to my area to close our evening at another one of my favorite spots – Rolf’s. Any of you who are familiar with either Room 18 or Rolf’s know that both are polar opposites of each other. Room 18 is a small trendy lounge located in the heart of Nolita that serves innovative cocktails and tapas. Rolf’s, a kitschy German bar and restaurant, is located in an old tenement in the Grammercy/Kip’s Bay area of Third Avenue. Rolf’s is cluttered with tchochke decorations and has that atmosphere that at any moment, Julie Andrews could appear singing a medley from Sound of Music.

Despite the obvious and clashing differences between Room 18 and Rolf’s, they share commonalities. Both are located in great old NYC buildings. Both have original tin ceilings, probably dating back to the late 1800s/early 1900s, and both have that wonderful NYC
institutional feel that brings you back to NYC in the 1920s.

As I sat at the bar drinking my hefeweissen celebrating being in my 20s, at a bar in the 20s, I
started thinking about NYC in the 1920s. The bar is original to the restaurant, which has been around for decades. Knowing that 3rd Avenue in the 20s (both the streets and decade) was historically a very industrial and manufacturing area in NYC, I couldn’t help but hear the clanging of the old 3rd Avenue El passing by, the smell of soot and coal that August in the 1920s
could smell like, and I couldn’t help but see the working class men who would stop by Rolf’s for a stein after a laborious day of work in NYC before heading home to their overcrowded tenement apartments that lined 3rd Avenue.

As I sat there staring at the tin ceiling, it was déjà vu. I felt as if I had the experience that perhaps my predecessors did decades ago at the very bar stool where I sat, even though I was experiencing it for myself for the first time. As I continued to drink my hefeweissen and celebrate the remaining hours of my birthday with family, I felt just another connection to NYC. I felt as if I were part of something greater. Like all of those who were here before us, we are
making history daily, and if we don’t stop to feel that connection, we will get lost in NYC’s chaos.

Until next time...

350º: No Longer Just an Oven Temperature

2006-08-02T21:48:00.000-04:00

As we all know, we are in the middle of one of the worst heat waves known to New York City. This week, Mayor Bloomberg declared a heat emergency in New York City. An additional 400 cooling centers have been designated around the City, City pools are open an hour past normal business hours, the Empire State Building has turned off its colored lights to conserve energy and Con Edison has completely broken down. Power outages have been running rampant all across NYC, and parts of Queens were without power for several days.

This is not the week to love New York City. It is certainly not the week to travel to New York City, be outside in New York City or dine in New York City. Even though I take an air-conditioned bus to work, I work in a heavily air-conditioned building and my apartment is air-conditioned (somewhat), it only seems like a temporary relief to the sweltering heat, seemingly endless sweating and constant complaining.

Due to the heat, I haven't been done much cooking. Living in this heat, which for purposes of this blog feels like a 350º oven, has taken away any cooking inspirations. Despite my somewhat air-conditioned apartment, my gas stove quickly turns the tolerable 84º apartment (with air-conditioning) to a hellacious 90º apartment. Why bother?

I have been eating out a lot this week and my favorite take-out restaurants are getting their fair share of my business. I am anxiously awaiting the return of cooler weather so I can relight my stove. Hopefully this 350º oven us New Yorkers are living in this week isn't a sign of permanent global change. Hopefully this heat is much like an oven broiler – it is infrequently used and only on for shorter periods of time. But for now, this constant baking has certainly rendered New York City overdone.

Until next time....

The Skinny on Pizza Dipping

2006-07-31T13:06:00.000-04:00

The other night, my boyfriend and I ordered a pizza for dinner. Although this is a practice I rarely engage in (I would prefer to make my own, or quickly whip up a tasty and healthy meal)– laziness too over and the idea of a delivery within 30 minutes was too good to pass up. Well, okay, that sounds a little elitist. I would rather make my own pizza then order one? It is a slight exaggeration, but it seems necessary as I tend (or at least try) to present myself as someone with culinary prowess.

Anyway, when I called to place my order (1 large pie 1/2 plain, 1/2 onion) I, almost innately it seemed, asked for a side of ranch dressing. As a quick caveat, I was disappointed to hear that the pizza place didn't have ranch dressing. I am fairly certain that this disappointment has promoted the writing of this blog.

I, like many other pizza eating North Americans, enjoy an occasional dip of my pizza in salad dressing. I say North Americans because when doing a little background sleuthing on this pizza dipping topic, I came across an article about how Canadians eat their pizza. Apparently, according to this one article, (which I agree no way scientifically or accurately depicts an entire country's pizza eating habits) Canadians dunk their pizza in dips – somewhat analogous to American's dipping pizza in salad dressing.

The whole concept of pizza dipping is personally fascinating. Does it warrant an entire blog entry? It's debatable I agree, but pizza dipping is a relatively new habit of mine. In my 27 years of existence, I have only been a pizza dipper for 9. Generally speaking, of course, I don't think Long Islanders are pizza dippers. I never pizza dipped (nor did any of my friends growing up), until I moved to Central Pennsylvania for college (Penn State by the way…). When I asked my friend from Rochester, New York whether she pizza dipped, her response was, "No Gross." So where is this practice most pervasive and why do some pizza connoisseurs dip their pizza in salad dressing?

Everyone I knew from Pennsylvania, or at least my friends from PSU, dipped their pizza in either ranch or blue cheese dressing. Those of us who were unaccustomed to the practice, curiously joined in and haven't stopped. But outside of PA, I haven't traveled in too many pizza dipping circles. Because of this, my curiosity of the habit has been heightened, especially after my ranchless pizza eating experience on Friday. In an attempt to leave no pizza stone unturned, I have done a little pizza polling. Here is what my informal and unscientific study has produced:

Lauren from State College, PA: " I never dipped until I moved to State College. Now I dip in ranch. It's a Central PA thing, maybe Pennsylvania Dutch."

Dave from Albany, NY: "Salad dressing plays a limited roll in my pizza eating experience. Perhaps I would dip some unfinished crust."

George from eastern New Providence, NJ: "I only dip inferior pizza. Shitty pizza warrants the extra compensation. The concept of pizza dipping arose in College towns where poor college students ate bad pizza. They would compensate by dipping the pizza in salad dressings to improve the taste. Eh, for me, I would dip in ranch, but only if it were available to me."

Dan from western New Providence, NJ: " Absolutely. French dressing all the way. I have tried other dressings in college but French dressing is by far the best."

So from my informal survey, pizza dipping appears to be a regional phenomenon, and potentially limited to just Pennsylvania and New Jersey. So is pizza dipping like Taylor egg and cheese sandwiches are to New Jersey? Or, is one man's french dressing another man's ranch, just as one man's hoagie is another man's sub?

romance without taste

2006-07-29T22:54:00.000-04:00

It was my boyfriend's birthday this week so I thought I would take him out to a nice restaurant to celebrate. Someone at work mentioned that 'One if by Land, Two if by Sea' was supposed to be the most romantic restaurant so I went for it. If it wasn't on the list for restaurant week I might have passed it up with a price fix menu at $70 that did not include drinks and grat...

I was pretty psyched as we walked up to the unmarked door in greenwich village and entered what used to be an old carriage house once owned by Aaron Burr. It's true that it's pretty romantic with live piano in the background, fresh flowers and candles at every table. We tried our best to enjoy the birthday dinner but being the critics we are, we couldn't help but discuss this fine restaurant's downfalls. For one, it sort of felt like I was in my grandmother's house. Although the chef has been talked up in every publication, we found the food to be uninspired. Perhaps ordering from the restaurant week menu was our downfall, but you'd think they would want to get first-timers to come back to their restaurant. The hake I ordered tasted only of the butter it was fried in.

I must say the dessert was a stand-out as we ordered a warm peach cobbler paired with ginger ice cream and a molten chocolate fondant. All in all, I would have to give it a thumbs down because although the name isn't ordinary, the fare is.

Diner 24 No More

2006-07-29T14:24:00.000-04:00

Up until a few years ago, I never knew how integral diners were to American history. Apparently, the origins of the first diner can be traced back to 1858 when food was first served from a horse-drawn carriage in Rhode Island. But despite their pervasiveness in 2006, there was only one diner in my home town – The Cutchogue Diner. As much of a landmark the Cutchogue Diner is to my community, including some of its frequent patrons, there is nothing remarkable or palatable about it.

As such, I have generally associated diners as grease lovers' paradises, or a truck stop along an interstate. Still somewhat believing diner patrons should get clearance from their cardiologists before dinning, I have come to realize that diners are for many, a way of life, a neighborhood restaurant, or better yet, a place of social gathering. Having spent a significant amount of time in New Jersey recently, it also appears that diners may employ a large majority of the New Jersey workforce.

The last few years have afforded me a more personal experience with diners. There's the Halfmoon Diner in Halfmoon, New York, The Hampton Bays Diner, and more recently, Diner 24. Diner 24 has been one of my most favorite restaurants in New York City. There is nothing truck-stop about Diner 24, as it is situated in the heart of Chelsea, or the edge of the Meat-Packing District, if you prefer. Diner 24 is fabulously gay, trendy, loud and it's fare is retro comfo (retro comfort food). Although its patrons may be more Democratic then lets say, The Palm, Diner 24 is for me, a bit Hemingwayesque – it is my clean, well-lighted place. The only resemblance Diner 24 may have to a more traditional diner are the hours of operation. Open 24 hours, Diner 24 provides tables to patrons without a wait, even during the busy dinner hours.

The menu includes disco fries, a la cheese fries but with truffle brie and fine herbs, mac-n-cheese (with Jarlsburg and Vermont Cheddar cheese, of course), fish tacos and a variety of Chelsea-like adult beverages, including a strawberry basil mojito. Last night a few girlfriends and I went to Diner 24 for some retro comfo, drinks, girl-talk and lots of laughs. Although the aforementioned were obtained flawlessly, the experience was not what I expected it to be. The first sign that Diner 24 was no more was the menu. Although the menu items were the same, or so it seemed, the menu was stylistically different. It no longer resembled a diner menu. For starters, the menu was passively aggressively insulting. The dishes were broken down by regions of the world, as if I would not know that the fish tacos were prepared with a Latin American influence. Slightly agitated, I ordered the fish tacos hoping that the menu was not a sign of greater changes to come.

The fish tacos were so different than what I am used to savoring, craving, returning for, etc… The "original" Diner 24 fish tacos were made with a seared white fish, probably Cod or Monkfish, and served in a soft tortilla. Absolutely delicious. Last night's tacos claimed to be seared Monkfish, but by seared, the Chef meant deep-fried. Yes, the fish came deep fried, with all the wonder accoutrements, but instead of the soft tortilla, it came in a "crispy" (again, a la deep-fried) shell. Although I still devoured it, this new Diner 24 does require clearance from your cardiologist.

My friends and I still had a great time and our overall experience wasn't tainted by the stylistic or preparation changes, but I did leave with a sense of disappointment. Just when I was starting to understand the American diner phenomena, my one diner muse was taken away from me.

Until next time…

Praise Pesto!

2006-07-27T17:37:00.000-04:00

Looking for a New York City apartment is no walk in the park. It is a process, a full-time job, and a major financial undertaking. Fortunately for me, I never had to go through the process. Shortly after I learned I was moving to New York City, a good friend of mine offered me her apartment as she was moving to New Jersey. I took the apartment sight unseen.

Despite my personal inexperience, I have witnessed family and many friends go through the process of searching for an apartment in New York City. The endless hours on Craigslist, or the multiple appointments with realtors, only to find that an apartment advertised as a spacious, sunny, oversized one bedroom in a safe building with outdoor space is really only a small alcove studio with no windows in a late 19th century walk-up tenement building with a rickety fire escape. The latter I believe to be an accurate description of my apartment. I digress, but I am going somewhere with this.

As outdoor space in New York City has become as hot as carrying a small teacup Chihuahua in a Louis Vuitton pet carrier, I have successfully turned my rusty, dilapdated fire escape into a teaming and bountiful gardenscape. Earlier this summer, my boyfriend and I planted several different types of herbs in an oversized planter on my fire escape. After several weeks of faithful herbscaping, the basil and parsley are as high as an elephant's eye. To avoid competing with the large oak tree outside my only functional window (that was probably planted by Mr. Van Rensaleer himself), I decided it was time for a harvest. Since we had so much basil and parsley, a pesto recipe was in order!

Last night I made the most deliciously garlicky, emphasis added, pesto. I found a recipe for a tri-herb pesto, which called for basil, parsley and mint. Having a palate that is partial to a basil pesto, I decided to go out on a mint stem and challenge my palate's partiality. Using my new "mini" food processor, which by the way has forever changed my life, I chopped and grinded until I perfected my pesto. The recipe I used called for equal portions of the three herbs, pine nuts, olive oil, parmesan cheese and 2 cloves of garlic. Although the parsley and mint added a nice crispness and freshness to the pesto, the 2 cloves of garlic were a bit much. It would have been the perfect portion for pesto for eight, but a bit overwhelming for the small portion I made. The pesto was served over grilled chicken breasts and complimented by paprika seasoned fingerling potatoes. It ended up being a lovely meal and I would do it again using just 1 garlic clove.

Even though I still have a bad case of garlic breath, the experience was well worth it. For me, it is less about the garlic aftermath, and all about the use of fresh herbs from my so-called "outdoor space."

Until next time....

'Tis The Tomato

2006-07-26T12:18:00.000-04:00

I had the most delicious tomato salad the other day at Houstons on Park Avenue. Despite an embarrassing culinary faux pas, I do believe I have resurrected the error and have become a better person for it. The backstory on the culinary calamity has everything to do with my inexperience with alcohol and perhaps a little to do with my limited knowledge on the various varieties of tomatoes. I am, what I consider, to be a beer and wine girl. I often have cravings for a good margarita, but have never really developed the know how on vodka, gin and other types of alcohol (Campari included). Cognizant that this is a fatal flaw in NYC, I have managed to survive and have not lost any friends over it.

Back to my tomato salad... So the salad de jour at Houstons was Campari tomatoes with fresh basil. Instantly intrigued, I ordered thinking the tomatoes were marinated in Campari and this would be the backdoor into expanding my alcohol repertoire. Despite my anticipation, the tomatoes tasted nothing like alcohol. They were, and this must be emphasized, the best tasting tomatoes I have ever had!! They were cut in half, drizzled with the best extra virgin olive oil, and sprinkled with coarse sea salt and black pepper. A fresh basil leaf was delicately placed on each tomato half. The tomatoes were perfectly ripe and juicy.

Still believing I was eating Campari marinated tomatoes, I began planning my next meal, which would of course include this delightful salad. The next day I googled "Campari and tomatoes" hoping to get some cooking tips when I discovered my culinary faux pas. I was mortified by my discovery and had it not been for the discovery occurring in the privacy of my own office, I might have died. To my utter astonishment, the salad I had at Houstons consisted of campari tomatoes - not tomatoes marinated in Campari. I feel obligated to share with you all my discovery. A campari tomato is a new variety of tomato. It is a perfectly round, roughly the size of a golf ball and deep in a red color. For more information, I suggest visiting www. eatcamparitomatoes.com. Take a look for campari tomatoes in a store near you!!

To my relief, I have completely recovered from this mishap and have a new outlook on life. The next drink I order will be a Campari and soda and my tomato basil salads will be forever made with campari tomatoes!

'Tis the Tomato! Until next time!

PS and NEWS FLASH: All across the North and South Forks of Long Island, field ripened tomatoes are being picked this week. Big, fat, juicy field tomatoes, they are among the very best tomatoes on the East Coast, and they are ready on your favorite farm stands.
10:18 PM

Chefs in the City Blog!

2006-07-19T10:47:00.000-04:00

Alright, I set up a blog so you can go to town ladies! Feel free to change any settings you want, I just picked a random template. More to come!