Mrs. Delicious

"When God closes a door, he always opens a window..."

2008-02-11T14:31:00.001-05:00

I don't know why that little Sound of Music line just popped into my head.

But it's true: last week we heard the terrible news of the Yankee Doodle closing; this week we learn of the rebirth of O'Rourke's. Hallelujah.

R.I.P. Yankee Doodle

2008-01-30T15:38:00.000-05:00

Truly sad news in New Haven today. One of my favorite restaurants of all time, the Yankee Doodle, has closed after 57 years. Article from the Yale Daily News here.

It is a dark day. Never again the grilled donut. Never again the two-cheese-two-pig lunch. My arteries celebrate; my taste buds weep.

Thank You For Your Patience

2008-01-29T15:37:00.002-05:00

...as I settle down from several months of house craziness, holiday festivity, and promotion file panic. Now I can take a deep breath and tell you: EXCELLENT new cheese store in New Haven! Best pancakes in Connecticut discovered in Westbrook! Oyster glove inauguration on Christmas Eve! Dried hibiscus flowers in Champagne: delicious!

Hello to all the readers who've just discovered this, and hello to the remaining few of you who actually check this blog for updates occasionally. New year, new posts.

On that note, though, I must sheepishly say that I'll be away for the next week. Will come back to regale you with tales of old and new favorites in Miami.

Pardon the Interruption

2007-09-10T10:56:00.000-04:00

1. Conference madness.
2. Summer lethargy.
3. Buying a house.

Many tales to tell, soon, about the glory and the gutwrenchingness of New Mexican food, Blackbird Redux and Hot Doug's disappointment in Chicago, a perfect summer day of German beer hall, Rich Chocolate ice cream, and wok-seared shrimp, re-visiting a favorite Italian in New Haven, and our last bottle of Pacific Echo Cremant.

Belated

2007-07-31T18:21:00.000-04:00

Belated birthday wishes to this blog, which turned two this month. At the moment I think I could have this blog taken away from me by blog protective services, though, for neglect.

But I was inspired to post by this amazing little gadget that my very sweet Swiss Saarinen researcher gave me yesterday:

Isn't it lovely? It is a REX vegetable peeler. Kornell said that 98% of Swiss households have one of these. It is light as a feather and made peeling my potato last night feel like peeling butter. Incredible! And check out the little potato-eye-popping-out widget on the side:

In other news, we just got back from Chicago, where we ate at Alinea, for better and for worse (neither of us cared much for the spun-sugar dessert that felt like chewing a mouthful of licorice-flavored fish bones, but some of our other courses were LIFE-CHANGING), and also at Hot Doug's, where our shared three sausages and platter of duck-fat fries allowed us to go the entire rest of the day without eating, and also at Kuma's where we had incredible burgers with Kim and Eric, and at the Pitchfork festival where we ate some kind of delicious lamb + beef + pork pattie thing served with spicy eggplant sauce, and at Avec, where the lovely bartender said, upon learning that we were leaving that meal to go to Hot Doug's for Second Dinner, "It is clear that it is not your first time at this rodeo." (But actually, it marked us as mere amateurs, since we learned when we got there that Hot Doug's is only open for lunch. We went back another day.) I have a huge list of places we didn't get to. Fortunately I'm going back at the end of this month.

We are going to Still River Cafe this weekend (finally!) to celebrate our eighth anniversary together. It was eight years ago this week that we first kissed on the Gantry Plaza State Park piers to the catcalls and hoots of the kids riding around us on bikes and skateboards. Who cared about them? We just took another swig of wine from our picnic bottle and kissed some more to spite them.

Oh, right, and we are buying a house. This one:

If you have hidden carpentry skills, or an excess of plywood laying around your house, we would like to hear from you.

Frozen in place

2007-07-02T21:21:00.001-04:00

Literally, due to the g-d Indiana Jones filming that has cut off access to most of downtown New Haven to vehicular traffic, and created minimum 15-minute delays trying to get to or from the Yale campus on foot. Derek was stopped on his way to work this morning by a cop -- not even film crew flunkies, a COP -- demanding to know where exactly he thought he was going as he tried to cross College street. "Um... to work?" Casey has an altercation with the PAs every time she needs to get in or out of the building she lives in downtown. One of them told her to "go find a bar." New Haven and Yale are purportedly seeing enormous financial gains from allowing this production to shut down the heart of the city for a week. I say we New Haveners should get free parking anywhere in the city for six months, at the very, VERY least. Checks in the mail would be even better.

And figuratively frozen in place, too, by this presentation I'm scheduled to give to a jury of my peers in Chicago two weeks from today. I'm supposed to be an "expert" in this stuff, but I've never been so freaked by a presentation in my life! They're paying me! It's terrifying! So many second-guesses about how I do things and so many second thoughts about my chosen career. I need to breathe. Two hours out of my life and it's over.

To take my mind off the whole thing, I've been cooking: key lime pie, broiled salmon, multigrain salad with dressing of pureed cucumbers and feta, warm broccoli and turnip green salad (I know it makes me a rube, but I don't think I like turnip greens -- or any bitter greens, for that matter), some other stuff I'm forgetting now. And buying fresh pickles and prosciutto bread (PROSCIUTTO BREAD! Can you believe such a thing exists?!) from the flea market in New Milford.

And eating: the first hot, buttered lobster roll of the year at Abbott's in Noank, of course; backyard barbequed filet mignon at Kyle and Sabrina's house; kefte kebab and cheeses at Stephen and Moa's; and a wonderful dinner at the new Po in Brooklyn, where I was sweet as peaches and cream to the frazzled maitre d' after he said to a foursome who had been waiting for their reservation for 10 whole minutes, "which table would you like me to kick out so that you can sit down?" I purred about how hard it must be to be so popular after only being open a week, of course we'd be happy to sit at the bar, smiling, smiling, smiling.

Five minutes later we had a table. And we made good use of it. Poached asparagus with truffled egg salad crostini and Cacio di Roma. Tuna with white beans, leeks, cabbage, and chili oil -- the best salad I've had in recent memory. Orecchiette with sweet sausage ragu and broccoli rabe, pappardelle with the sweetest peas and mint and Parmesan all over it, local strawberries in balsamic vinegar with ricotta gelato, and a thin tile of dark chocolate terrine with amaretti crumbles, vin santo and espresso caramel that was barely sweet. Did someone once hear me say I wasn't a big fan of Italian food? I eat my words.

Send me your suggestions for where to eat in Chicago. We'll be there a week. Alinea is already on the itinerary.

Just Quick

2007-06-14T09:13:00.000-04:00

1. Tom assures me that the burrito carts are in no danger of closing. I hope he's right.

2. Word on the street is: don't waste your hard-earned cash at Foster's, that new fancy place on Orange Street next to ArtSpace. Our anonymous tipster reported chicken so dry it was like jerky, a stuffed pork loin "special" that had likely been sitting in the fridge for three days, and syrup-like salad dressing. Every new kitchen takes a few weeks to find its stride, to be sure, but when the chef has this kind of kitchen experience, the learning curve should probably be a little less steep.

Spotted

2007-06-12T00:16:00.000-04:00

Last night, while taking the Australians to dine on mashed potato pizza at Bar: OMG Arturo! On the street! Mr. Roomba/Bespoke himself! I came |thisclose| to stopping him and pleading with him to keep the burrito carts open. Jen makes a good point: those damn carts make him too much money to close, so I'm less worried than I was, but still. Burrito lunch today, and maybe an extra one to keep in the freezer.

All-Girls-Superfun-Weekend (with three dudes and some babies) in the Poconos was a veritable International Party (as opposed to Alcohol Party, which didn't become as fully realized as Casey and I thought it might -- witness remaining liters of gin and vodka) of culinary delights. Tildy and Robin's crepes on Friday night. Pauline's "Full English" fryup on Saturday morning, followed a few short hours later by Sol's Korean barbeque smorgasbord with two different cuts of beef, pork belly, and squid. Later that night, the Canadians Nicole and Elisa represented with a whole salmon, butter tarts, and stout ice cream transported all the way from Toronto. And Ariel and Katy made a true Continental breakfast for us on Sunday: Ariel's typical Danish brunch spread of cheeses, breads, lightly pickled tomatoes and cucumbers, and fruits, served up with Katy's Italian strata and British dried cherry and lemon scones.

All this consumed while lounging about in pajamas half the day under dappled sunlight in the Glass House (no, not that one, but one almost as lovely), interrupted by swimming in the warm lake and rousing rye-fueled games of Taboo, followed by more eating. And so much laughing. My sides are still split.

Yale Does It Again

2007-06-07T13:28:00.000-04:00

Roomba has never been one of my favorite local restaurants, but it was one of the pioneers of New Haven's much-touted Restaurant Renaissance. Plus, I like their burritos, sold from three carts around town. And when I say that I "like" them, I mean it as in "I like to breathe."

Now they're closing over a dispute with their Yale landlords.

If this means no more pork-with-everything burritos, there will be Hell. To. Pay.

A Cry for Help

2007-06-05T17:40:00.000-04:00

People, I am addicted and need an intervention. I am addicted to the Panang Curry at Thai Taste here in New Haven. The vegetables are not very fresh. The rice is your white standard-issue. But the sauce. Oh, the sauce! I think it has crack in it. At the very least, it has kaffir lime leaf in it, which must be on my top-ten-flavors-on-the-planet list. I have eaten the Panang Curry twice in a week, now, and today I have a bit of a tummy weirdness. Perhaps I am overdosing. I really could eat it every day: so spicy, so pink, so smooth, so beautifully creamy when combined with 9,428 calories of white rice.

Please help. Where else should I go for lunch, now that all my local microwaves are locked up for the summer? (I plan on making myself lots of cold salads, too: send recipes for your favorites!)

Photo by Amanda and Tyler.

Spring in New England

2007-05-24T09:27:00.000-04:00

...means two things: shad roe and fiddleheads.

This year it also means chevre rolled in dill from Beltane Farm in Lebanon, CT. This cheese tastes like freshness. Tangy, sweet, herby, milky combine to taste. just. fresh.

I always cook my shad roe according to instructions from John McPhee, published in the New Yorker in August, 2002. He wrote the book on shad so I figure he knows from cooking it.

Dinner is served, covered in a thatch of bacon, alongside fiddleheads that I sauteed in olive oil and champagne vinegar:

John McPhee writes: You have your shad roe! You are in business! This is always exactly how we feel. Like we have just won the lottery and cannot help dancing in our chairs as we eat these huge lobes of fish eggs. The foie gras of the Connecticut River valley.

I also purchased two other amazing things recently. One is the loveliest watercress in the world, grown hydroponically by Two Guys from Woodbridge and available locally at Romeo's, Nika's, Bishop's Orchards, Limon Fine Food, and the Cityseed Farmer's Market at Wooster Square:

And the other is this Brazilian delicacy, available locally at the Shop-Rite in West Haven:

We haven't tried Ham Snack yet because the package is too beautiful to open!

You Asked For It

2007-05-22T19:06:00.000-04:00

On August 23rd, 2004, Andy and I celebrated his birthday by having dinner with a group of friends, including Garett and his sister Erika, who shares Andy's birth date. None of us had ever been to Eccolo, a new-ish Italian restaurant on Fourth Street in Berkeley whose kitchen, like two of every three restaurants in the Bay Area, was run by some Chez Panisse alumni. It was a long and delicious meal: the first time I ever tasted tripe (it didn't look, feel, or taste like stomach lining! Amazing!); the first time I ever tasted Barbaresco; and definitely the first time I'd ever heard of bread soup. That soup was a revelation. In fact, "I'd never had a soup so silken and concentrated", as I described it in a letter that I wrote to Gourmet magazine begging them to ask the chef to share his recipe.

I received a letter from Gourmet a few weeks later, thanking me for writing and enclosing the recipe for "Pappa al Pomodoro" on Eccolo letterhead. I made the soup -- which was of course not as delicious coming off my home stove as it had been that night, but was still good -- and that was the end of it.

Until I received this month's issue of Gourmet. There, on page 38, two and a half years after our dinner, is my letter to them asking for the soup recipe! It even has my old location information -- my dateline reads Berkeley, California. The magazine adapted the recipe somewhat from the restaurant's original to allow for the use of fresh tomatoes and some standardized measurements.

Here, for my loyal readers, is the original recipe verbatim, straight from the mouth and kitchen of Eccolo:

Pappa al Pomodoro
serves 6 to 8 people

Extra virgin olive oil
4 red onions, chopped finely
3 cloves garlic, sliced thinly
2 28 oz cans San Marzano tomatoes, chopped
2 bunches fresh basil, leaves washed and picked
Salt
1 2 lb. loaf of stale rustic bread, crust removed and torn into 1-inch pieces

Heat a large soup pot over a high flame and coat the bottom with extra virgin olive oil. When the oil begins to shimmer, add the chopped onions and saute until they are soft and golden brown (about 10-15 minutes), stirring occasionally, and adding a little water if necessary to prevent burning.

When the onions are cooked through, add the garlic and tomatoes. Cook over a low flame until the tomatoes begin to sweeten and concentrate, about 25-30 minutes. Stir occasionally. Tear the basil leaves into the soup as the tomatoes are cooking. Add salt to the pot. It's important to correctly season the soup with salt at this point, because it is difficult to adjust the salt once you've added the bread.

Now add the bread to the tomatoes and cook over a low flame for about 5-10 minutes, until the bread has absorbed the tomato. If the soup seems too thick, add a little water, but this is one soup that really should hold up a wooden spoon stuck into it.

Serve the pappa warm or at room temperature, with some freshly torn basil and a liberal dousing of olive oil.

Not Recommended

2007-05-21T11:24:00.001-04:00

Possible alternative titles for Gael Greene's memoir of New York food and sex, Insatiable:

Insufferable

Intolerable

Interminable

White Merlot

2007-05-16T21:15:00.001-04:00

Is this an actual wine? Or is it Hawaiian Punch? Or is it something whereupon it touches your lips your nerve endings hit the REJECT button and you spray it across the table?

The Sutter Home White Merlot that we drank in a blind tasting of cheap, mass-market wines on Tuesday at Seppi's was, hands down, the worst wine we tasted that day. Worse than any White Zinfandel "blush" concocted by Franzia, ever. We were all in agreement on that, if on no other wine that afternoon.

The tasting was organized by Robin Goldstein, Mr. Fearless Critic himself, recently decamped to Austin after several years on the I-91 corridor, publishing books on where to eat and where to avoid eating AT ALL COSTS in New Haven and the Northampton/Pioneer Valley area of Massachusetts. It's him that I have to thank for introducing me to Roy Ip and Le Petit Cafe, and Roy that I have to thank for inviting me to the tasting. There is no better way to play hooky mid-week than to run off to New York on a perfect spring day to begin drinking lots of wine at 1:00 in the afternoon. Lady of leisure manque, c'est moi.

First, mad props to my tasting table compatriots Tom, Chris and Dave, all urologists at Yale-New Haven Hospital. Drinking wine in the afternoon with urologists is wonderful. After the first flight we had a long chat about Things That No Longer Gross Them Out.

The tasting was set up so that each of about eight tables had six bottles of wine in the middle, all wrapped in brown bags and labeled with a number. We were to sample each wine and immediately record our impressions as to its aroma, its taste, its other desirable or undesirable qualities, and how much we would pay for said bottle of wine at the grocery store. (Each of the wines we sampled was to have cost under $15 and be available widely in grocery stores or basic liquor stores; excluded, then, were many inexpensive-yet-wonderful wines from lesser-known regions that might not be easy to find outside knowledgeable wine shops). We were encouraged to be as blunt, honest, and perhaps sarcastic as we needed to be to express our true love or loathing for the wines in question. After each flight of six wines, the table was to move as a group to the next table over to sample another six. This happened three times: a group of rose wines, another of white, and another of red. Our opinions would be recorded and synthesized for the upcoming book, edited by Robin, entitled Cheap Wine Review.

First quick generalization: As a rule, my taste in wine was the exact opposite of that of all of my tablemates, including that of the sommelier from a well-known restaurant on the Upper West Side who joined us partway through. Things I liked, they hated. Things they liked, I spat out. Quick generalization #2: Cheap wines are very, very sweet. This is a wonderful quality in a well-balanced Riesling, an off-dry Gewurtztraminer, a ripe Muscadet. Not in a Chardonnay. Not in a "White Merlot". Certainly not in a Shiraz. However, this is not to discount the opinion of my fellow tasters: it may be that the memory of my overly-sweet and underly-cooked lemon pancakes from the VASTLY overrated Norma's at breakfast was lingering too near in my memory.

We got the roses over with first. (Pardon my lack of accents aigus and other diacritics -- I don't know how to make them in Blogger.) Please note that I adore a good rose. They can be wonderful summer wines. There were two that I tasted that I might have enjoyed at home (and, in fact, after the wines were revealed at the end, I realized that I had enjoyed one of them at home -- the Marques de Cacera), but on the whole, they tasted like Raspberry Diet Rite. With extra aspartame. We were all grateful to move on to the whites.

It was at this point that James the sommelier joined us. We all sat up straighter in our chairs and began to rinse our glasses between tastes. James told us the story of how, at a recent blind tasting of wines at a fellow sommelier's bachelor party, he snuck a bottle of Yellow Tail Shiraz in with the heavy-hitters. His friends, all professional wine drinkers, couldn't quite tell what it was, concluding that it was not great but surprisingly well-balanced, nice fruit notes, etc. When he tore off the brown wrapping, many of the assembled guests demanded non-disclosure agreements with the rest of the guests there.

We tasted the whites, all of which I identified as Chardonnay (in the end, I was wrong, but only by two). One of the wines was corked, according to James -- a first for me, and I am so pleased to know, at last, what a corked wine tastes and smells like (think your grandmother's attic). Again, the one I liked was reviled by the rest ("number three smells like a baby's ass"). About the favorite, number two, I had written, "This is the '70s cliche of California in a bottle -- sweet, buttery, over-oaked, cheap cheap cheap Chardonnay." About number two, James said, "I thought it was balanced, nuanced, much more interesting than it needs to be for a wine at this price point. A lovely Viognier."

I was crestfallen. I love Viognier. How could I have been so wrong about a wine I have professed to love? Am I really that snobby person who is so easily seduced by the name of an under-grown grape? I blushed furiously and struggled mightily to come up with a witty way to save myself. I couldn't. I didn't even try.

James called Robin over to our table to ask what wine #2 had been, since it was well-received by the group at large. Robin consulted his labyrinthine chart of numbers and cross-references for several minutes, then delivered the verdict: Wine #2 at our table was a Yellow Tail Chardonnay.

"The best-selling wine in the world," said Robin.

I will say no more on this matter.

Everyone in our group was anxious to taste the reds, which we shouldn't have been. Gross generalization #3: if you are going to take a chance on bringing a cheap wine to a party, make it a cheap white. Cheap supermarket reds are so, so terrible. Red wine should not be sweet AND tannic AND high-alcohol. Most cheap reds seem to be all three. Or at least five of the six we tasted were. The only one that had any dryness, elegance, and depth of character was the Chianti I tried (another first for me). A distant second was Cline's Red Truck. The rest were not worth mentioning, aside from the sneaky trick Robin pulled in putting TWO bottles of Yellow Tail Shiraz at each of the tables to see whether we would say different things about them. Honestly, after three hours of lots of tasting and not much spitting, I don't remember what I wrote about them aside from "SWEEEEET!" And not "sweet" meaning sweeeeeeet.

I am very curious about seeing the Cheap Wine Review in print after this experience. I didn't talk to many people at the event aside from Roy and the others at our table, but I do wonder if my preference for dry, lean wines will be the outlier that's averaged out of the overall opinions of these wines. I like a wine that smells more floral than it tastes and that doesn't hit you over the tongue with an alcohol afterburn. I'm anxious to see what my fellow tasters end up preferring, and what, in the end, makes for a "good" cheap wine. I wonder if I'll agree, or if I'll use the book to pick the Least Favorite Wines as a guide to what I'll like instead.

Aside from the White Merlot.

And hey! Do you want to taste cheap wine, too? Do you live near me? Roy is hosting a tasting for the book at Le Petit Cafe on June 23rd -- let me know if you want to go.

This is Getting Embarrassing

2007-05-11T11:57:00.000-04:00

Yes, I know. The computer demands a blog. Here's how I've really been feeling: paralyzed. I have an embarrassment of riches, so many things to write about. The Sysco food show. Our nine-course tasting dinner at Ibiza. Seeing Harold McGee give a talk at the law school about "molecular gastronomy" and having him sign my copy of On Food and Cooking the next day. Making a reservation at Mr. McGee's favorite fancy restaurant, Alinea, for July 18th, during our trip to Chicago. Next week, a wine tasting for the upcoming book Cheap Wine Review in New York with Mr. Ip. Our first Rhubarb Collinses of the season. The loveliest watercress I have ever seen in my life, picked by Two Guys from Woodbridge.

It's all too much, and all these subjects deserve more coverage than I am up to giving them right now. Spring is here, the nights are warm, and who wants to come home from staring at a computer all day at work to staring at one at home on a spring evening? I want to cook, not compute!

But here's something small to think about in the meantime: is Sysco any more evil than Stop & Shop? Or are the restaurants that serve "Sysco truck" food (thanks, Meredith) the ones really trying to pull one over on their customers?

I need to get a scanner. I wish you all could see the photos from my Sysco Fried Appetizer catalog.

Lovely Day of Food and Related Utensils

2007-04-26T15:08:00.000-04:00

Spicy Mee Yok at York Street Noodle House for lunch
Mid-afternoon Ciao Bella break: jasmine-cassis sorbet and carrot-ginger gelato
Harold McGee talks at the Law School in 45 minutes*
Spoon plays at Toad's at 9 pm**

* This was a different talk than the one I thought he would give, but in the end I'm glad this is what he talked about: his invention of the term "molecular gastronomy" in 1992 and what MG has become today (hint: something different than what he originally intended with the term!), with lots of photos, examples, and explanations of how Wylie Dufresne and Ferran Adria and Grant Achatz et al. do what they do. Thanks to Pauline for this article, too!

**A terrific show of long sets. And then Stephen brought the band out for beers with us at Rudy's. It was amusing to watch Britt Daniel enjoy about 45 seconds of anonymity in the bar, looking for a seat on one of our benches. And then get swarmed by wannabe-rocker boys and girls wearing lots of lip gloss and little else.

Loot

2007-04-17T16:23:00.000-04:00

This requires two installments to fully describe.

First, before I forget and to whet (or utterly suppress) your appetite, here's my haul of freebies from the SYSCO Spring Food Show that I went to in Hartford today:

about 10 pounds of ads and catalogs
One bag Terra Chips
One bottle Saratoga spring water
Hormel pen and sticky-notes set
One giant bag of what appears to be every condiment Heinz makes
Three McCormick "Big 'n Bold" spice blends packets: "Monterey Style" Roasted Garlic and Red Bell Pepper, "Key West Style" Lemon, Basil and Thyme, and "Grill Mates Montreal Chicken" seasoning
One "House Recipe" (aka SYSCO) brand Salt-Free Original Seasoning Blend
One bottle Hydrive dragonfruit flavor energy drink
A-1 Steak Sauce pen
Two individually-packaged Rice Krispies Treats
Two packets Crystal Light "On the Go" drink mix
One Donna's Delights whoopie pie
One bottle Butter-It "trans-fat free liquid butter alternative"
One pop-up sponge in the shape of an Idahoan potato
Two plastic cockroaches from Ecolab

Stay tuned for more observations from a fake food professional. In a bizarre coincidence, the Connecticut Library Association was having their annual conference in the same convention center today. I am so busted.

Delicious Sandwich

2007-04-10T19:07:00.000-04:00

Sandwiches are a conundrum for me. All that bread gets in the way of what I really want: the bright yet rich, crunchy yet smooth filling that goes in the middle. But I don't usually want a salad made of just the filling ingredients, either. Something about the way the bread mashes everything together makes the whole so much greater than the individual parts. Even better is when someone else makes the sandwich for me. I have vivid memories of my mom's putting together the humblest ingredients: mayonnaise, processed cheese slices, iceberg lettuce, and Wonderbread together melded to make the most soothing and wonderful sandwich mush in the lunchbags of my youth.

I can appreciate the simplicity of a pressed media noche, dripping with margarine and pickles, and the extravagance of sirloin steak and caramelized onions that you eat with a knife and fork at the Union League. One of the best things I ever ate was a sandwich of sopressata, salami, mozzarella, marinated anchovies, and a lot of vinegar and oil at Genova in Oakland. But your standard turkey/Swiss/mayo on a Kaiser roll is never what I want for lunch.

That said, I made myself something simple and delicious tonight, to eat over the sink while poor Andy slept off his 24-hour flu bug. Take a third of a roasted garlic ciabatta loaf from Chabaso. Warm in the toaster oven and split. Add mayonnaise, if you like. Mix together a can of tuna and some of Deborah Madison's lemon vinaigrette*, spread half on the bread, save the rest for another lunch. Add some arugula leaves. Press together and eat over the sink. Perfection.

In other brief news:

Two thumbs up to Liv's Oyster Bar in Old Saybrook, where we gorged ourselves on winter oysters for Easter dinner. The seared scallops with gremolata were also quite fine, as were the fried oysters on celery root remoulade (though no fried oysters will ever match those of the Sea Swirl, which I was chagrined to find was profiled recently on Rachael Ray's tourist show). And Andy ordered a dessert that I never would have ordered, given my usual aversion to segments of citrus fruit: blood oranges and clementines in a Prosecco sabayon. Heavenly, not very sweet, a perfect tribute to the end of citrus season.
Damn you, Limon Fine Food, for stocking Krinos Taramosalata. I have you to thank for the extra five pounds I am sure I have gained by eating the taramosalata out of the jar, with my fingers, while standing in front of the open fridge. I don't even bother with the damn pita anymore, even though their homemade pita is the best I have eaten anywhere besides Hoomoos Asli.
The King Ranch Chicken recipe in Cook's Country didn't quite live up to the hype. Tastes delicious -- certainly much, much better than the classic "take two cans of cream of chicken soup" version -- but overly liquid. As this is perhaps Andy's favorite dinner in the world, I am sure I will have many chances to tweak and perfect the recipe.

*Deborah Madison's Lemon Vinaigrette, adapted from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone:

2 T fresh lemon juice
1 t finely chopped lemon zest
salt and pepper
about 1 t capers, minced
1 scallion (white part only), thinly sliced
a few T olive oil

Combine everything except the oil and let that sit for 15 minutes. Then whisk in the oil. Taste and add more salt and pepper if it needs it.

Sing It, Sister

2007-04-04T09:43:00.000-04:00

Maira Kalman and I are clearly soul mates.

I Almost Forgot!

2007-04-02T19:27:00.000-04:00

Have you seen?

The amazing

CUPCAKE HOLDER

Purchased by me at Grocery in Philadelphia, but can be purchased by you here!

Those spiky protrusions dent the cupcake a little, but what's a little dent when the result is a topful of unmarred frosting?

Blini is more interested in the cupcake than in the cupcake holder.

You Can't Win 'Em All

2007-04-02T17:40:00.000-04:00

In recent days, we have had two terrific meals and one terrible meal. It's the terrible one that I fixate on, though. What is it that is so deeply disappointing about a bad meal? What makes many people so risk-averse when it comes to dinner? For me, the disappointment is made worse knowing that for the same $70, we could have feasted on fresh, delicious fish rather than the dry, stinky stuff we ate at Kiraku in Fair Haven on Thursday night.

We should have known from the moment we walked in: scented candles and a huge, loud wall projection of a Sting concert are not auspicious in a sushi restaurant. Nor was the very small number of diners on a Thursday night at 7:30 pm (and we were the last people there at 9). My sashimi was the worst I have ever eaten, and I have eaten a lot of raw fish, and in some questionable places. My mackerel was dry as a bone and actually seemed to suck some of the moisture out of my tongue, my scallops were slimy and fishy, and my "white tuna" (whose very existence is up for debate) still had ice crystals in the flesh. My eel tempura roll tasted like the oil it had been fried in was at least a week old. Andy's selections were no better, and our waitress was nowhere in evidence so we had no one to complain to. Kiraku had come to us highly recommended, making us wonder whether we'd hit it on a bad night, but still, a Thursday? Scented candles? I don't think we'll be trying it again, despite its perfect Quinnipiac river deck.

A much, much better meal, and a cuisine that is ever so welcome in New Haven, was had by our little group on Friday night at Mezcal, a new Mexican restaurant in the old El Charo Alegre space on Mechanic street (between Lawrence and State). It was no Dona Tomas, but it was damn good, and we can walk there!

Seven of us shared shrimp ceviche (okay), taquitos (so-so), a shredded beef and egg dish (whose name I can't remember -- I can't read my own handwriting) that wasn't very flavorful.... I can see your eyes glazing over, but WAIT! Then the amazing stuff arrived: one order of pollo entomatado, chicken on the bone cooked in a spicy tomato, tomatillo, pepper, and raisin sauce; pollo con pipian, also on the bone in an achiote-colored pumpkin seed sauce that was so good we all tried to eat it with a spoon; and two orders of deeply porky carnitas, stewed, fried, and spiced unlike any I'd had in California, home to Libby's Hero Carnitas. Plus all the homemade chips and incredibly spicy salsa verde and tortillas and beans and rice we could eat. We all left disgustingly full and about $16 lighter, each. The place is BYOB, so go early and stop at the liquor store around the corner for a six-pack of Negro Modela. I always worry about whether places can and will stay open in this town, but on Friday night Mezcal was packed. Hooray!!!

The other home-run meal we had was last week's at Ibiza. Yes, at last and finally we went to Ibiza. I promised I'd take Andy there when my job became permanent, so he cashed in and we got the tasting menu with paired wines. But I will save that post for next.

EDITED TO ADD: It's actually three great meals to one bad one. This afternoon, Tom and I got burritos from the Roomba cart and they had a special barbacoa lamb burrito filling. Oh my god. Roasted lamb in spicy sauce in a Roomba burrito. Best burrito ever? Maybe one of the top three. Ever. And I think one of those other two was at the Roomba cart as well.

Dark Horse

2007-03-26T14:13:00.000-04:00

Now that my job is really for realz, Andy and I have been beginning to get a glimmer in our eye about maybe possibly thinking about perhaps looking at buying a house. Please do not get too excited about this. After our one visit to an open house yesterday -- which mostly just opened our eyes to what a disappointment $300,000 can buy you in Connecticut, even in a dying industrial town -- we were feeling a little blue on a gray day. Fortunately, inspiration struck on our way out of Shelton and we hung a quick U-turn back to Derby and Roseland Apizza.

Photo by Roadfood.com

I am here to tell you that you have not eaten New Haven pizza until you have eaten in Derby. In fact, New Haven pizza should actually be called Derby pizza. It was that good. The white clam pie we shared makes former-favorite Frank Pepe's look tough and chewy. You heard it here: Roseland puts Pepe's to shame. TO SHAME! The crust was a minor miracle of thinness, crispiness, and give -- utter Platonic pizza crust perfection. I was also blown away by our red pie with "muzz" and meatballs. Andy was not as convinced that the red pie was better than Modern's, but I do believe that Roseland's is now my favorite pizza in Connecticut.

I thought I might actually be smitten by God with lightning when I left the restaurant after voicing such heresy, but instead we emerged from the dark dining room into a newly bright, sunny evening. I think it was a sign. The housing stock in Derby suddenly looked much more charming.

This Just In

2007-03-19T17:50:00.000-04:00

James Beard Award nominees announced today. Many, many favorites are here! I particularly liked the Pete Wells article about copyrighting recipes that was in Food & Wine a few months ago.

Good News For People Who Love Bad News

2007-03-19T17:12:00.000-04:00

Here we are, always crying in our beer about no good grocery stores within walking distance in New Haven, when in sneaks LIMON FINE FOODS just across the border in Hamden, right near the godforsaken DMV. The "coming soon" sign at State and Ridge had been up in the old Nations Supermarket building for a while, but then all of a sudden Limon opened! Okay, so they opened up early last month, but we finally went to sniff around for ourselves yesterday.

And what a delight! A Turkish delight! Lots of lebne, kefte kebab mix, stuffed eggplant in a can, and homemade baba ganoush every day. An olive bar where you can sample before you buy. More hot chili pepper varieties than these parts of Connecticut have ever seen. The cheeses! The Italian crackers! Quality, low-acid vinegars! Many kinds of masa! Organic versions of almost everything! A huge and beautiful prepared foods section! I am agog. There is no reason to go to Stop & Shop ever again! Just a quick drive through the back of East Rock Park, no more than five minutes away. C'mon, neighbors, let's help make sure this place stays in business.

Dreamy Food

2007-03-14T23:01:00.000-04:00

This morning I dreamt that Jen and I and her enormous extended family were in Texas at the world's biggest buffet restaurant. They boasted that they had over 17,000 individual dishes. I saw enormous chicken cutlet sandwiches being made with boatloads of mayonnaise, at least 50 different types of pasta, and a huge made-to-order breakfast bar with every kind of pancake or waffle or omelette you could imagine. I put a pumpkin manicotti on my plate and headed over to the breakfast nook. Just as the lady behind the counter was handing me a beautiful, golden pancake stuffed with mascarpone cheese and served with scoops of butter and jam, Andy woke me up. It was awful!

I think my pressing need for a pancake -- unsatisfied for over a month -- has finally worked its way into my subconscious mind. It's beyond time to fill this gnawing, pancake-sized hole in my belly. Bella Rosa. Saturday. Here we come.

Photo by Chocmonster on Flickr.

Flan con Cheese Philadelphia

2007-03-10T21:21:00.000-05:00

One of the most hilarious foodstuffs I ever ate was a dish by that name at a taco stand in San Francisco, with Garett. There was a big platter of it, all glistening and jiggly, up at the cashier's counter, with a little hand-lettered sign stuck in it. Flan con Cheese Philadelphia. It was delicious as well as hilarious.

I just got back from Philadelphia, speaking of. And I am embarrassed to say that I have no photos to show for it. Our camera is giant -- in fact so large that people ask us if we have one of those newfangled superfancy cameras, because no one makes such a large, unfancy one anymore -- and I hate lugging it around with me, and I said to myself, I have been to Philadelphia countless times, why should I bring the camera? Here's the thing: always, ALWAYS bring your camera to Philadelphia. It is one of the most beautiful cities in America. Even more so when your nightly view is from the 16th floor of the PSFS Building (now a hotel).

Also, I didn't have a cheesesteak. I have had one before! No need to do it again! Here's what I did have:

Ham and bean soup from The Dutch Eating Place in Reading Terminal
"That special goat thing" aka goat ravioli in broth at L'Angelo on Funeral Home Row in South Philly (we and the table of young priests in their collars closed the place down); lots of BYOB wine including a lovely Cabernet from Whitehall Lane that was on sale for $14.99
Hangover breakfast of biscuit and gravy and poached eggs and sausage at Down Home Diner
Fried chicken, "Oprah's Favorite" Macaroni and Cheese (I can't say it better than Taylor does in her Philly food blog) and some very disappointing cornbread at Delilah's Southern Cafe (also in Reading Terminal -- it was right across from our hotel and we didn't have a ton of eating time)

The masterpiece meal of the week: Carey took me to Gayle and did we FEAST!

Gayle salad with the tiniest little brunoised vegetables (excuse my Franglais)
Clams Casino in clam chowder: a delicate clam and garlic and spinach nugget deep-fried, set in a bowl, with silky clam chowder puree (no flour involved) poured over it
Seared scallop with a pork cheek ravioli pillow (so salty, so much gravy, so good)
Monkfish and artichoke hearts with saffron sauce over pureed parsnip
"Veal stew": sweetbreads, tongue, brisket, all chopped with potato, some kind of greens, all doused with a nearly obscene amount of some sauce with vast acres of demi-glace in it. It was TOO MUCH in the best way. But don't just take my word for it.
Ice cream sandwich of rosewater ice cream between three wonton shells with candied pistachios in honey poured over
A bottle of Yamhill Valley Vineyards 2003 Estate Pinot Noir

It was after this meal that I had a Food Hangover the next morning. Has this happened to you? This happens often when I eat pork belly, one of the richest and most indigestable substances known to man or woman. But pork belly is so good that I eat it anyway, despite its making me run for the bathroom in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. Same thing after this. I think the veal stew did me in.

Moving on:

Gentle breakfast of Diet Coke and oatmeal cookie
1/2 mediocre chicken cutlet and prosciutto sandwich and cannoli gelato
1/3 calamari and vegetable salad (it was as big as two of my heads, but notice that I finally did consume vegetables on this trip!) from The Continental, plus one very excellent Margarita
Yuengling galore with Kim and Beth and Katie and Sarah and Judy
Coffee, egg bagel, cream cheese
Post-Carey's-bike-race lunch of frozen shrimp shumai and pretzels
Roast beef and "caramelized" (actually, they were pickled -- quite a different thing!) onions from Au Bon Pain while running to get the train home.

Between all of this I learned about architecture libraries all over the country, went on many, many, many walking tours of take-your-breath-away beautiful buildings and collections, drooled over large-format scanners, and explored this over-the-top brilliant website in depth. I had been in an anti-conference funk for a while, but I think this one has re-revved my engine. I love conferences again!

(Thanks to Paula for the Continental recommendation. If you go, dear reader, go to the one on 2nd and Market, not on 18th and Chestnut. That one is a meatmarket/themepark DISASTER.)

Lemon Joy

2007-03-05T22:47:00.000-05:00

What is better in the dead of the New England winter than your best friend flying across the country from California with a carry-on bag full to the brim of MEYER LEMONS ALL FOR YOU?!?!

It doesn't get better than that, actually. Thank you, Garett!

I used some of them to make a sunshine-filled Meyer lemon cake for Paula's wonderful dinner party on Saturday. The recipe doesn't include any butter; only eggs, sugar, ground almonds, and the tiniest amount of flour to bind. I glazed it with a little watered-down Meyer lemon marmalade from Frog Hollow Farm and frosted it with whipped cream to cover my sin of not checking on it often enough as it baked in a dark pan (oops). The result was very lemony, but as Jen described it, it had a very "kosher for Passover" texture -- not the light 'n' lemony flourless chocolate cake consistency I had hoped for. I still have some lemons left over, so I suspect there might be some Meyer lemon curd in my immediate future.

The dinner party, though. Ohhhhhhhhhh.... I sing a song of Osso Buco. I must be the last person to have tasted this ultimate meat stew/sauce/ambrosia, but now I want to make it every night for the rest of my life. Better yet, I will ask Paula to make it for me every night, since hers is now my gold standard, and also because she owns a marrow scoop. Which I, as the "guest of honor" (I am still blushing over this, but the news of my job now being permanent called for some celebration), got to use to scoop and scrape every last melting liquid oozy drop of marrow from the center of the bones. Mmmmmmmmmmm. Paula, let me learn to cook at your apron strings! This is kind of what it looked like, except hers was even better:

Photo courtesy Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel.

My South Beach Diet

2007-02-28T18:26:00.000-05:00

First, let me say: Miami Beach is warm and nice but WEIRD. It is like a combination of the French Riviera and Las Vegas. It is so sceney! So slick! And yet you have the large pasty tourists lumbering along very slowly past the restaurants and the Versace mansion on Ocean Drive. But they lumber hedonistically.

I was there for five days. My hotel was right on Ocean Drive, so I did a lot of slow-walker dodging and generally tried to avoid the area after dark aside from scurrying back up to my room. When I'm next back there in the spring, I want to stay anywhere but on Ocean Drive, despite the view from my room:

Can you believe it? The water really is that color. And you can swim in it without losing sensation in your extremities.

Day One:
Arrived from the Frozen North very overdressed. After the taxi ride to hotel from the airport, I shed most of my clothing and put on a pair of summer sandals. Left the hotel and walked up Ocean Drive to end. Up Collins to Bass Museum. Over to Lincoln Road. Walked the length of Lincoln Road (open-air pedestrian-only shopping mall and upscale food court designed by Morris Lapidus) and back. Feet beginning to blister due to humidity, overwalking, and being unaccustomed to going sockless. Walk all the way down to Joe's Stone Crab at other end of South Beach. Beginning to limp slightly.

In Joe's, cannot figure out where host station is. Finally cut through crowds of people, find a host-looking person, ask what the wait is for a table for one, am told to STAND OVER HERE with no further explanation. After about 45 anxious seconds a very nice waiter retrieves me, escorts me to a table. I hear that the wait here, at what the Time Out guide calls "the most famous restaurant in South Florida", can last hours. Here's a tip: go alone, and go at 7 pm.

Ask waiter how to go about ordering: everything looks like it's family-size, everything looks incredibly delicious (when the soles of one's feet are covered in blisters, an iceberg wedge with blue cheese dressing sounds ever so refreshing), everything is very expensive. Ozzie, the waiter, says "I will bring you a bowl of the large crab claws, an order of hash browns, and an order of creamed spinach. Those are the house specialties and that's all you need." He also bought me a glass of wine. I am so glad I trusted him. The stone crab claws were unlike any crab I'd ever eaten -- not flimsy like blue crab, not sparse like Jonah crab, not sweet and fleeting like Dungeness. They were solid, meaty, dense, filling. You hold them like a lollipop and dip them into a creamy mustard sauce. Then you eat a bite of the hash browns that are so crispy and swimming in butter, and a bite of the creamed spinach with enormous chunks of roasted garlic, and perhaps a nibble of the pretzel croissant that is nestled in your bread basket, and you think Miami might not be such a bad place to spend some serious time. Especially when Ozzie then brings you a slice of the most silken and cold and luxurious and perfect Key lime pie ever. Then the only thing to do is leave Ozzie an enormous tip, waddle back to the hotel, and beach yourself in front of Sex and the City.

Day Two:
Breakfast is a very large, very sweet cafe con leche from the Art Deco Market on Washington. Dear lord I wish we had cafe con leche widely available for a dollar here. It is my new addiction.

Lunch with the Wolfsonian registrars at Van Dyke Cafe on Lincoln Road, sister establishment to News Cafe on Ocean Drive, which is evidently where Gianni Versace ate his last meal. Both are supposed to be very see-and-be-seen places, but the diner-ish food leaves me wondering whether Joe's will be the only good meal I get on this trip.

Dinner with Emily, who very fortunately for me was delayed an extra day in Florida, so I got to have some very, very buttery and rich veal and mushroom ravioli with her at the low-key (for South Beach) Spiga on Collins Avenue. There are a plethora of Italian places in Miami Beach, which seems odd to me -- rich, carby pasta is never something I look forward to eating in the heat. But no matter. The night was cool and the ravioli was deluxe and unexpectedly seeing Emily was like getting the best present on Christmas Day.

Day Three:
Cafe con leche from the Art Deco Market for breakfast again. Speaking of Art Deco: it is really, really beautiful. But I took very few photos of it because (a) everyone has already taken a million photos of it and (b) after a while I kind of stopped seeing it because it is everywhere. It reminded me of being in Berkeley, where for the first week or so I was completely floored by all of the elaborate Arts & Crafts architecture, but after a while it just faded into the beautiful , eucalyptus-scented background.

Lunch with my new colleagues at the bizarrely-named World Resources Cafe, a place that serves both sushi and Thai food. Light food like this is always what I want to eat in a warm climate.

After work I went for a cocktail on the porch at Wish, the bar/restaurant in The Hotel, the interiors of which were designed by Todd Oldham. (Miami is where I totally lived my best BravoTV lifestyle. Many hotel interiors were designed by Kelly Wearstler, Todd Oldham, Jonathan Adler -- all from Top Design. Emily drove into South Beach and immediately upon arrival saw Uli from Project Runway, and Mychael from PR was appearing at a Starbucks nearby while I was there, too.) The cocktails at Wish had been billed as "neon", and my frozen mojito (for SEVENTEEN DOLLARS) did indeed arrive glowing. Sadly, the neon was provided not by some bizarre plutonium-infused mint leaves but instead by a little plastic ice-cube shaped square with a green LED light inside. I felt so conned! No radiation poisoning for me!

After spending almost all of my dinner allowance on one drink, I wandered over to La Sandwicherie for some cheap eats. Sat at the counter, asked for pate on a baguette. The (French-sounding) guy behind the counter asked me "do you want everything on it?" I said no, just cornichons maybe, but how do you like to eat it? "The best way is to have the pate with butter and Brie -- do you know Brie cheese? -- and vinaigrette and cornichons." OH my goodness. Leave it to the French to cram as much fat as possible onto a piece of bread. I loved it, but I couldn't finish it.

Nightcap at the bar at the Hotel Victor, one of the lovelier hotels on Ocean Drive. One mojito with a stick of sugarcane in it; one vodka gimlet on the rocks. When I got the bill I could barely believe my eyes -- they had charged me the ROCKS FEE! $1.50 for ice in my drink. See ya never, Hotel Victor! For the rest of my trip I vowed to drink only from my hotel room's minibar, which, at $5 per tiny bottle of booze, all of a sudden seemed like the best bargain in South Florida.

Day Four:
Cafe con leche and a little cookie filled with dulce de leche and dusted with coconut for breakfast, this time at David's Cafe. The cookie didn't do much to change my generally blah opinion of Latin American baked goods (except for tres leches cake, which is just about my favorite thing ever), and the cafe con leche was three times the price of the old reliable Art Deco Market's.

Lunch was with Kim and Erin at Puerto Sagua, a Cuban diner down the block from my hotel. I had fried kingfish steak with yellow rice and black beans on an enormous plate. Kingfish has a bit of the texture of swordfish, but tastes saltier. They didn't have my favorite Cuban dish on the menu -- I was hoping for an approximation of the Pollo al Ajillo at the late, lamented La Rosita -- but I vowed to come back another time for the Medianoche pressed sandwich.

One of the best dinners I ate came from a recommendation from Jonathan and Igor, who had been in Miami for Art Basel in December. They suggested Creek 28 in the Indian Creek Hotel. First of all, the hotel is adorable -- all vintage luggage and fake crocodiles and faux-Colonial decor way off the beaten Collins Avenue track. Love at first sight. Love at second sight came when I sat down in their beautiful courtyard and the tiniest, sweetest black kitty came running up to me! The restaurant's house cat. I ordered a glass of something white and dry and Italian to go with my grilled romaine salad (a revelation, with ricotta salata and mint leaves and smoky, rich tomato vinaigrette -- evidently Igor has had great success recreating this dish in Greenpoint) and a Cotes-du-Rhone to go with my special entree of elk skewers with tomato relish. My waiter was wonderful (while describing the special bruschetta with caponata appetizer to me, he asked "do you know what caponata is?" Maybe lots of people in Miami don't know what caponata or Brie cheese are) , the setting was gorgeous, and the special was the perfect (smallish) amount of food for far less ($15!) than the average entree on the menu. My only regret was having to race out of there in order to make the 8 pm curtain at the New World Symphony, so I didn't get to try any of their desserts. No problem, though, because after the concert I pressed through the Lincoln Road crowds over to the beautiful and tiny yet overwhelming-with-selections Icebox Cafe, where I bought a slice of the pumpkin shortcake -- big enough for both dessert and breakfast the next day -- to take back with me to the hotel.

**Interlude to mention that the South Beach Food and Wine Festival was going on while I was in South Beach. Initially I had been a little sorry not to have gotten my act together to get a ticket, but I overcame this the second I saw a Festival-goer yammering on his cell phone, running across the street with a swag-bag emblazoned with the HUMMER logo across it and a lariat around his neck attached to which was an upright WINE GLASS. It is hard to describe. Here are some photos of people wearing them. I am not sure I have ever seen anything more pretentious and dorky. I wanted to take my own photo of someone wearing one, but I couldn't figure out how to ask without sounding deeply insulting.**

Day Five:
This was my "free" day, my one true vacation day of the trip. Unfortunately, I completely squandered it by taking the bus all the way up to Bal Harbour in hopes of seeing some sights. Bad idea. Aside from the most upscale mall in the world -- the Bal Harbour Shops -- there is little to recommend the northern end of Miami Beach, whose main drag with huge high-rise condos on either side reminded me of the canyons of Midtown Manhattan in the summer. The restaurant I was looking for seemed to have closed since it was written up in Time Out, so for lunch I settled for a chicken empanada and a coco frio:

which was delicious but warm and not-so-refreshing, from the Normandy Village farmer's market in Surfside (or possibly North Beach -- it was hard to discern the borders between neighborhoods). I walked and walked and WALKED down to the two Morris Lapidus masterpieces that I had been waiting all week to see -- the Eden Roc and Fontainebleau hotels -- only to find that both were in a state of severe "revitalization" (aka soul-sucking) and were shadows of their former selves. After having scoped out the lobbies of the Delano and Sagamore hotels, though, I am not sure that anything old-school would have held its own. Bummed and exhausted, I broke my minibar-only rule for a Mai Tai on the back patio of the Fontainebleau (only $8.75! Cheap!).

I eased my blistered, bruised, and sunburnt feet into the one remaining pair of shoes I had that seemed unlikely to cause any further podiatric damage and walked a few blocks south for dinner to Shoji Sushi, which Time Out had crowed about ("better than Nobu!"). I was most interested in the "box-style" pressed sushi, which I remember, wide-eyed and salivating, from our favorite sushi restaurant in Berkeley, Sushi Sho. I started with a huge bowl of hamachi ceviche, which was billed as coming with shiso leaf (one of my favorite things in life) but actually came with cilantro. Delicious nonetheless and perhaps the best thing I ate that night. I also ordered the special sazae (Japanese sea snail), which arrived in a snail shell on a bed of salt. The snail itself was minced, grilled in a very salty soy and ginger sauce, and tasted inconsistent with each bite -- one morsel would be very bland and tough, while the next would be extremely pungent with essence of snailiness (think clam belly). Next came the unagi pressed sushi, which was fine but not anywhere near the realm of deliciousness of the Sushi Sho pressed sushi. This was basically a flatter, square-er eel nigiri, whereas the pressed, marinated fish at Sushi Sho was completely unique in my sushi experience. I looked over at another patron's plate at the sushi bar to spy on what he was eating, which was a huge piece of fish that looked like mackerel but was more uniformly gray and iridescent. It was gorgeous. It was called "aji", which the sushi chef described to me as "Japanese jackfish". Thanks, but I'm still not sure what it is. No matter -- I ordered it sashimi-style and it was a bright-tasting, lovely piece of fish.

On my way out of town I ran over to Puerto Sagua and got a Medianoche sandwich of ham and pickles and mustard and cheese all pressed in the toaster and ate it on the beach at 7:30 in the morning. And a cafe con leche. This held me just fine, through two plane flights, until Andy picked me up at the airport and drove me directly to The First and Last in Hartford for some good, old-fashioned eggplant pizza. It was so nice to be back among my un-Botoxed, untanned, sweater-layered New England peeps.

But I am still looking forward to my next trip down south. Next stop: Little Haiti!

More photos of the trip here.

Quick Bites

2007-02-17T19:27:00.000-05:00

Thumbs up:

- Staying away from the Sonic Youth show. I am officially too old for crowded concerts and this one sounded like a can of sardines. Thank you, Toad's, for planning to take over the much larger Palace Theater! I am 100x more likely to go to shows knowing I have a little breathing room. In lieu of sweaty claustrophobia I had a lovely evening tipsily sparring with The Dean.

- Colony Grill pizza in Stamford. How I love a cracker crust, and this is a TRUE cracker crust, dripping with hot oil and locally-made sausage.

- Valentine's Day desserts of Coeurs a la Creme actually turned out solid this year. Last year's were a bit of a mess.

- Garett is in town and we are going to Chester for breakfast tomorrow!

- I am getting out of this Frozen Tundra on Tuesday and flying far, far away to eighty-degree Miami. Hopefully to have dinner one night with Emily!

- Top Design: Goil is still going strong!

Thumbs down:

- Bars that would charge The Neat Fee. I mean, CAN YOU EVEN BELIEVE THE NERVE??? THE NERVE!!!

- Andy cannot come to Miami.

- None of my clothes are fabulous enough for Miami.

- The South Beach Food and Wine Festival takes place while I am in Miami, so peons like me aren't going to be able to get a table anywhere. Room service here I come. But maybe I will catch a faraway glimpse of Alton Brown! Be still my heart!

Unmasked! Again!

2007-02-11T21:51:00.000-05:00

Hello, Siobhan (and Jeff!) in Greenpoint! I promise I wasn't trying to keep this a secret; I am just embarrassed because I don't update often enough and am not as of-the-moment as these folks.

Speaking of Siobhan, she and I had some lovely -- if criminally overpriced -- drinks at the W on Saturday afternoon before my, um, "pampering" appointment at Bliss. She had a colorful and fragrant lemon and basil and Ciroc vodka Martini; I had something deluxe involving Hendrick's gin, rose syrup, and lime and lychee juices. Gin and flowers go surprisingly well together and, I promise, don't taste like perfume. Having a cocktail with her was a perfect antidote to my hellish week at work and upcoming further hellish week at work. Thank goodness I am off to Miami (for work!) next week. Some sun and beach will do me good. Anyone has any food recommendations, you let me know. (But do people eat in South Beach? Or do they only diet?)

And speaking of being unmasked the first time, Andy and Jen and I had a gorgeous lunch today at Le Petit Cafe with David Kamp and 48 other people who had paid good money to hear him imitate Julia Child's bizarre speech inflections while reading an excerpt from his book, The United States of Arugula. A book that I highly recommend, by the way, as an accompanying text to Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma. Many of the same players are discussed, but you'll see Alice Waters in a much different light after reading about the drug-fueled "Fleetwood Mac-style" pairings and unpairings that took place in the early days of Chez Panisse. But hey. It was the '70s. Hearing about those shenanigans makes me nostalgic for a time I never knew, a time before Guy Savoy started opening restaurants in Las Vegas.

Whoops, sorry. I will get off my high horse long enough to tell you about the glorious food Roy Ip made for us: a Parmesan and arugula (ha!) salad; arctic char in romesco sauce (so lovely!) with little vegetables, hazelnut-chocolate fondant cake (Jen had the creme brulee with passionfruit sauce), a large amount of homemade bread with ghastly amounts of black truffle butter, and blasphemous amounts of Chardonnay for a Sunday.

So. After my weekend of indulgence and mid-day inebriation, it is time to get back on the clean-living wagon so my saddlebags don't jiggle too much as I play beach volleyball in a thong at South Pointe Park.

Addendum

2007-02-07T22:43:00.000-05:00

It is worth subscribing to TimesSelect, or finding a friend who does (thank you, Jen), simply for the monthly column by Maira Kalman. In this month's brilliant column-of-paintings, she discusses the February phenomenon.

Painting by Maira Kalman

The Last Day of January

2007-01-31T17:40:00.000-05:00

The February doldrums have come early for me this year. Usually I can put them off until at least Valentine's day, but this year -- whether it's the cold-without-snow, the overly stern resolutions for self-improvement, the steady countdown to joblessness -- I find myself in a funk several weeks ahead of schedule. I am not productive, I am forgetful, I am pessimistic.

It is times like this that I wish Thanksgiving was in February instead of November. We have quite enough to be thankful for in November without having to be reminded to be thankful! We have harvest vegetables, the promise of snow, the glory of colorful trees, the anticipation of holiday excess. What we really need is an occasion in February to remember all that we have to be happy about and grateful for at this time of year despite the frozen ground and the novelty of root vegetables wearing off. Such as:

- being able to wear huge puffy wooly clothing
- promise of fancy desserts on Feburary 14th
- it sure isn't humid out
- the days are, in fact, getting longer
- cute fat squirrels
- friends coming to visit soon
- giant Ric Burns New York documentary at home ready to watch
- February 2nd is GROUNDHOG DAY
- February 11th is lunch at Le Petit Cafe

Maybe what we need is a day in February where we cook preposterously expensive out-of-season foods, turn up the heat, plug in the blender, and make frozen rum drinks 'til dawn while we sit around in halter tops toasting winter's long, cozy, chilly nights. What shall we call this holiday? Suggestions welcome.

They do live in this state and all, but...

2007-01-29T09:10:00.000-05:00

The Sterns are sure spending a lot of time in New Haven these days! Sad that they are just rehashing the old favorites, though. But wait. Are there actually any new favorites? Maybe that is what is really sad: New Haven's cheap-and-good food rep rests on places that have been open practically since Yale has been open. There are a lot of wonderful expense-account places here, but won't someone please open a cheap-and-great neighborhood place that's known for something more than sweet death by saturated fat?

I am beginning to feel this way, a little bit

2007-01-29T00:00:00.000-05:00

Even though I have done none of the entertaining and constant cooking for guests that Ann Patchett has, I am feeling her sentiments right now, big time. Payday cannot come soon enough! Someone else cook for me, please!

"The turkey is gone. The dog and I split the last of it yesterday for lunch. The turkey soup (excellent) is gone. I'm hungry now, the dog is hungry, and yet I cannot bring myself to cook. I had fourteen people over for dinner the night before Thanksgiving and ten people on Thanksgiving day. I had houseguests through Sunday and fed them every meal. Oh, the tender planning! The careful choices I made about sweet potatoes. I brined my turkey. I polished the silverware. I hosted a four day Thanksgiving extravaganza and now it is over and the food is gone and I cannot bring myself to even think of spreading peanut butter on bread. I guess I will be eating it off my fingers, out of the jar. All of this is to say that even those of us who are committed to cooking and entertaining hit a wall sometimes and now I wonder what we're supposed to eat."

New Haven: It All Happens Here!

2007-01-24T20:09:00.000-05:00

Including friendly interactions like this one, just across the street from Andy's office! Don't you all want to move here? Folks are so neighborly.

Did You Know?

2007-01-24T16:33:00.000-05:00

...that there is a real English word for bug poop?

And that that word is frass?

The Harry Ransom Center's newsletter, Ransom Edition, is always good for a fast fact about pests.

Quick Reviews

2007-01-17T00:01:00.000-05:00

Thumbs up: Supper. The expanding Frank's empire can do no wrong. Especially when the appetizer of burrata mozzarella turns out to be AN ENTIRE BURRATA MOZZARELLA on tomatoes and basil with oil and salt and pepper and bread. We pierced it with a fork and the cream inside burst forth. Our plate runneth over. We followed this with a nutmeg-and-chocolate-sauced venison loin with dandelion greens and a plate of fresh pappardelle and mushrooms sauteed in oil and cream. Thus we decided against dessert at Chikalicious. Who needs it?

Thumbs down: Blue Ribbon Bakery. We waited half an hour longer than the host told us we would. The downstairs is lovely and cozy, but we didn't sit down there. The portions were miniscule. They brought me the wrong dish, and then didn't bring me the right one until the rest of our table was finished eating. No need to return.

Thumbs up: New refrigerator! It's silent! It's drip-free! It has working crisper drawers! Thank you, Rocco!

Thumbs down: US Postal Service. In what universe does it take more than a week for a jar of pickled okra to travel from New Haven to Boston? I should have driven it to Sol myself.

Thumbs up: Steak. I can't remember the last one I had. Wait, maybe it was in 1998, when, on the hottest day of the year, Garett and I drank a bottle of Scotch and decided to make a dinner of minute steak and rice. Bad idea. No wonder I haven't had a steak since. I had a New York Strip at Union League the other night and it was sublime. I almost wish I hadn't liked it so much. Now Peter Luger is calling my name with passionate intensity.

Thumbs down: Dimpled arms. Time to lay off the steaks and carbs, right when it's become winter and I NEED THEM.

Three Lovelier Words Were Never Strung Together

2007-01-12T12:09:00.000-05:00

Me: What should we have for lunch?
Tom: How about fried unagi dumplings?

!!!

Coliseum Update

2007-01-02T17:10:00.000-05:00

We got published in two New Haven news outlets: the New Haven Independent and the New Haven Advocate! And none too soon, because on New Year's Eve, we blew it up. Photos by Sarah.

Word on the street is that the real Coliseum will meet its doom on January 20th. We'll be there with cameras and licorice whips in hand.

2006 In Review

2006-12-31T15:59:00.000-05:00

I owe everyone a lot of food news, but since it's New Year's Eve, a little introspection (and retrospection) is in order. These questions come courtesy of Molly at Girlwonder, who I thought of on Christmas day when I opened my copy of Worldchanging -- my Christmas present from Andy.

1. What did you do in 2006 that you’d never done before?

Went to a foreign country by myself. Ate a pig's foot. Bought a case of Champagne.

2. Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

No. I vowed to go to the gym and be healthy, and I did pretty well for six months. So I guess I'll have resolution redux this year. Along with everyone else, so the gym will be annoyingly crowded during January.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?

April and Derek had baby Leo, and Derek also gave birth to a large gallstone! Plus Naomi and Doug produced Baby Jane. And YEESH this coming year. Everyone is having a baby in 2007!

4. Did anyone close to you die?

No. Thank goodness. Although I did feel kicked in the stomach when Jane Jacobs died.

5. What countries did you visit?

FINLAND! And Texas.

6. What would you like to have in 2007 that you lacked in 2006?

A real, permanent, forever job. Preferably the one I have now.

7. What date from 2006 will remain etched upon your memory?

October 6th.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Getting the Saarinen collection finished. Driving the Lost Coast.

9. What was your biggest failure?

Not baking Sonya and Ted's wedding cake.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?

Besides a couple of dreadful hangovers brought on by cheap gin, I am healthy. Knock on wood.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

A very strange, reclining porcelain pig on a pillow with carvings of the Opium Rebellion tattooed all over it. I saw it in a window in Oakland one night this summer and called the store when I got back to New Haven. I couldn't get it out of my mind or bear the thought of anyone else owning it.

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

Molly and Tom, for landing their Beinecke jobs. And Molly again for organizing New Haven's first Home Movie Day.Chris C. and Sean, to whom I still owe bottles of Aquavit for all their work on the Saarinen collection. Meredith and Nathan, for moving to Seattle to the world's cutest house. MacKenzie, for moving to London and getting her master's from the Courtauld. Eliz, for her work on her advanced certificate in digital librarianship AND landing the law library job AT THE SAME TIME. Cindy, for finishing cooking school in Paris and moving back to the Bay Area. Paul, for tenure at UCB. Dayna, for landing the SFMoMA job. Roy, for inviting us to the best Chinese dinner of my life. Sonya and Ted, for finally doing the deed. Kyle and Sabrina, for adopting TWO stray kitties. Yale, for at last giving Moa a job worthy of her talents. Ian and Arta for getting knocked up (along with many, many other friends. 2007 = year of the baby). Kevin Roche for donating his archives to Yale. Andy, for his first teaching job at Yale and for continuing to be calm and patient in his everyday life despite.... me.

13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?

Appalled and depressed is my typical mental state, it seems, but these days I am most depressed by people who are oblivious to the decline of this planet.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Target, Trader Joe's, Bishop's Orchards, Amity Wines & Spirits, Metro-North, Firehouse 12. And Le Petit Cafe probably deserves mention.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?

The idea of being in charge of Yale's architectural archives program at its inception. Will it actually happen?

16. What song/album will always remind you of 2006?

Even though it came out in 2005, Of Montreal's "Wraith Pinned to the Mist (and Other Games)" will always be my Theme Song to 2006.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

1. happier or sadder? happier
2. thinner or fatter? totally fatter
3. richer or poorer? richer on paper

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Read books instead of magazines. Cooked. Left town.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

Worried pointlessly. Read dumb websites over and over. Swept up cat litter.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?

I spent it in the car with Andy's parents in Texas.

21. Who did you spend the most time on the phone with?

On the phone...?

22. Did you fall in love in 2005?

*sniff* I fall in love every day, again and again, with my Sweet Pea! *sniff*

23. How many one night stands in this last year?

None.

24. What was your favourite TV programme?

Oh, this was the year of Arrested Development.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

No. I am still appalled and depressed about some people, but I'm not a hater, yo.

26. What was the best book(s) you read?

Marilynne Robinson's two novels, Housekeeping and Gilead. Michael Pollan's The Omnivore's Dilemma. And of course Eero Saarinen: Shaping the Future, edited by Eeva-Liisa Pelkonen.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Young & Sexy, Beirut, Donovan. I do not feel this has been a very awesome year, musically speaking. I mostly listened to old stuff, and rediscovered a couple of CDs from a couple of years ago (Archer Prewitt's Wilderness; The Dandy Warhols' Thirteen Tales from Urban Bohemia) that I ended up listening to on repeat for months, but I am not too impressed with the musical offerings of 2006 in general.

28. What did you want and get?

An oyster-shucking glove and knife! Thank you Andy! And two full weeks on the west coast revisiting all of my favorite people and places. And my sister here for Thanksgiving.

29. What did you want and not get?

My boss to stay at Yale.

30. What were your favourite films of this year?

I loved Little Miss Sunshine. Nothing else comes to mind except disappointments like For Your Consideration.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

Rosamond and Joseph sweetly bought me drinks (and would not let me buy a single round) at Cafe Moscow and Beetroot in Helsinki as I turned 31. That night at Beetroot we ran into a guy who used to live in Greenpoint and had grown up in Portland and gone to college at Marlboro. Small world.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

This is so lame, but WOW would it be a relief if my body would stop going through Second Puberty and my skin would stop breaking out.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2006?

I am moving toward The Accessory. I am still not a purse/shoe/jewelry person, but I can now understand the power of a killer pair of earrings and boots. Looking like a fusty old librarian is cute when one is a 25-year-old librarian; not so much when one is of an age when that look loses its irony.

34. What kept you sane?

A well-placed Manhattan always helps.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Edward Norton continues to take my breath away. *Swoon*.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?

Aside from global warming, I was ready to dance in the streets after the midterm elections.

37. Who did you miss?

Betsy, Paul, Pauline.

38. Who was/were the best new person/people you met?

Ariel, Robin, John.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2006.

In the span of a month I went from wondering if I could do my job to just... doing my job. It is amazing how adaptable humans are and how quickly we can rise to the occasion if we're expected to.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year?

Let's pretend we don't exist.... let's pretend we're in Antarctica.

Sad News from Morningside Heights

2006-12-20T15:00:00.000-05:00

The best cup of cafe con leche I've ever had; the most exquisitely oily and garlicky pollo al ajillo... gone. Rest in peace, La Rosita.

Wayne Thiebaud's Coliseum Competition Entry

2006-12-19T19:18:00.000-05:00

It took four architects, an artist, and an archivist 12 hours over two days to make something that, at one point, we were ready to put out on the street for the squirrels to eat, but in the end it all turned out great and we had fun. Here's our rendition of the New Haven Coliseum and the Knights of Columbus Headquarters tower, in gingerbread:

Apologies to Kevin Roche. Photo by Ted. Other, much more vital participants than me were Ted, Sonya, Kyle, Sabrina and Andy. My job was mostly to take photos, spread a little icing/glue here and there, and drink. I left the heavy lifting to the professionals.

Process photos on Flickr here. You can see that God is truly in the details -- Saturday night's stopping point was not pretty.

Now the question is: when will we blow it up? I am 99.9% positive that whenever we do it, it will be sooner than the real Coliseum's date with demolition.

Much to Discuss

2006-12-14T18:14:00.000-05:00

1. What on earth is going on with Bentara? I hate to slam restaurants I like, especially when it is a restaurant that was the lynchpin of the much-touted New Haven Restaurant Renaissance, but the food and service are both losing stars in my mental Michelin. One of my friends had the worst service of her life there recently, involving a sommelier screaming at her (and heads at other tables turning) for being flexible in her choice of wine when her first, second, and third choices turned out to be unavailable. A few weeks later, I had a mediocre lunch, but chalked it up to... it being lunch on a weekday. However, we took a visiting professor there for dinner a couple of weeks after that -- touting Bentara as "one of our favorite restaurants in town" -- and ended up being embarrassed about the bland, improperly prepared food that was clearly not at its freshest. And just the other night, some other friends went for a big night out and reported the same findings about the food. Bentara, please! Don't rest on your laurels! Keep making the Ninth Square proud!

2. Barcelona is now open! Rejoice! New Haven needs more excellent, casual, reasonably-priced restaurants. We have enough fancy places and we have enough Irish pubs. Barcelona may be a mini-chain, but it is the first mid-priced, popular, comfortable place to have a glass of wine and a delicious snack to appear downtown. (Full disclosure: Andy designed the interiors.)

3. Tom took me over to Berkeley College for lunch a couple of weeks ago so I could sample first-hand their sustainable grass-fed burgers and other organic/local/sustainable dining hall cuisine. More on this later -- it deserves its own post.

4. I sing a song of aspic. Andy's firm's holiday party was last night, which involved our all going to Union League and ordering off the menu. I had rabbit and smoked pork in aspic with frisee salad and a quail egg, then a roasted pheasant breast with sauteed foie gras. The pheasant was a little mild, a little dry, but the aspic? A REVELATION. I now feel the need to encase all of my foods in meat jelly. Every bite was like sinking my teeth into a fresh piece of meat-flavored Freshen-Up gum -- a liquid flavor explosion each time. Ooooohhhmmmmmmmmy goooood.

4.5. Latkefest at Jen and Tom's tomorrow! Gingerbread-making party at Sonya and Ted's, too! I love December! We are hoping to make a gingerbread model of the New Haven Coliseum (which is being torn down as we speak).

Photo by the amazing folks at The Bridge and Tunnel Club.

5. We are off to Texas next week! I am anticipating barbeque brisket, smoked turkey, Joe T. Garcia's, and further weight gain. Happy holidays, everyone!

Ugly Like I Like It

2006-12-11T11:45:00.000-05:00

Photo by New York Times

No, I haven't lived there in years. But I still feel very protective of Long Island City. Thank goodness for tumbleweeds -- the hipsters, they can have their Williamsburg and leave LIC well enough alone. I just wish the developers would, too. There is something to be said for empty neighborhoods in big cities.

ANN ARBOR ROAD TRIP

2006-12-04T16:29:00.000-05:00

Screw the SI reunion, I'm going to THIS! Brandishing my New Haven Pizza, my Coastal Connecticut Briny Clam Chowder, and my god-damned Fried Clams! New England REPRESENT! Woooooooo!!!!

From Jane and Michael Stern via their Roadfood Email:

"Anyone into deep-dish food scholarship will want to know about the
forthcoming Second Biennial Symposium on American Culinary History that takes place in Ann Arbor at the University of Michigan's Clements Library on May 18-20, 2007. The theme this year is "Regional and Ethnic Traditions," and we will be delivering a talk not-so-succinctly titled "America’s Least Fashionable Cuisine: A Road Trip through the Vastly Underappreciated Cuisine of America’s Northeast: Unknown, Disrespected, Hidebound, Inexplicable, Ghastly, and Delicious Foods that Define the Region’s Unique Taste." As more details become available, we will let you know."

Gilding the Lily

2006-11-30T17:23:00.001-05:00

Jesse's visit to the Have was excuse for all of my favorite New Haven indulgences that I can only have a couple of times a year when company comes: grilled doughnuts at the Yankee Doodle, mashed potato pizza at Bar (we couldn't decide on a red or white pie, so we got white with sausage and red with bacon, a combination that Jesse called "pork two ways"), eggnog lattes at Starbucks (okay, those are not New Haven-specific, but they are seasonally-specific). Jesse bought $50 worth of salmon at Bud's Fish Market for Thanksgiving dinner and, despite her carsickness, she indulged me in my favorite drive along the coast up to Stony Creek. On our way home, we had a very timely phone call from Ham, who was on his way to Thanksgiving in Vermont (site of Waffle and Dessert Madness last year). He stopped by and we all went to meet Andy for drinks at the Firehouse.

Then Thanksgiving. Everyone came over. Everyone brought wonderful things to eat and drink. We stayed up eating and drinking those wonderful things until 2 a.m. Some people rang our bell as others were leaving and stayed even later to eat Triscuits with cream cheese and candied jalapenos. It poured rain and we had lots of candles inside. Thanksgiving with friends just cannot be beat for coziness and good cheer. Photos here.

So what did we do with a half of a Princesstorte and half a turkey and a huge pot of delectable turkey stock made by Andy and piles of mashed potatoes in the fridge? Why, we left it all there and went to spend scads of money on another enormous dinner, this time at Prune. This was the one thing Jesse demanded we do in New York. We arrived in the city and proceeded immediately to Prime Burger for lunch. Jesse took off with Pat to see the "new" MoMA building while Andy and I wandered over to Takashimaya to drool over everything, then down to this lovely new wine store at the South Street Seaport (man, I hadn't been there in years). We will be going back to that little wine shop when we don't have hours to wander aimlessly while carrying heavy bottles. We braved a small horde at Century 21 for a few minutes, but then decided to escape to slightly less crowded quarters in the streets of TriBeCa and SoHo. Here is our new favorite plae to stop to decompress when in the throngs of post-Thanksgiving weekend shoppers: Wine Bar. *Some* of the wines are good, but the setting is all good.

And from there to Prune, where we ordered half the appetizers on the menu, including these little meat dumplings in broth and yogurt sauce that were so tiny and spicy. Andy and I ate appetizers and a little of Jesse's and Pat's lamb shanks for dinner. Jesse almost fainted with happiness when she was able to scrape out and eat some of the marrow from the lamb bone. I wish I could send her some bones through the mail for Christmas. And I had one of the best desserts of my life: a "Breton butter cake", made from layers and layers of buttery pastry, glazed with sugar and orange flower water, caramelized, and served with a glass of Beaumes de Venise. Sheer buttery chewy burnt-sugar bliss.

We ate turkey soup and corn pudding from scratch the next day and felt virtuous. I loved having Jesse around to cook with me -- it was like having a second set of hands and a more organized brain. I didn't need to explain or specify anything because we cook so similarly, it's uncanny. Especially since we didn't learn to cook together at home. Bebe, come back and make a Buche de Noel with me!

Oh, and by the way, did I mention that a couple of days before Thanksgiving we went to Le Petit Cafe with Kyle and Sabrina? So it is not like we had very empty stomachs before Thanksgiving, either. At least with K&S at the table I was too embarrassed to hog all the bread and truffle butter for myself. Roy gave us a vat of chestnut and mushroom soup to take home (since Andy had characterized it as "subtle") and promised to take me to the next big Connecticut SYSCO show in February so I can marvel at the vastness of the universe of industrial food. AND! David Kamp is coming to Le Petit Cafe to read from The United States of Arugula soon! Stay tuned!

Countdown

2006-11-21T09:34:00.000-05:00

Now that Jesse is here, the real Thanksgiving madness can begin! Andy and I went to the Whole Foods all the fucking way up in West Hartford on Sunday (can you hear me, Whole Foods? New Haven DOES NOT HAVE A SINGLE GROCERY STORE DOWNTOWN! Can you say CAPTIVE YALE AUDIENCE?), divided up the list, got out of there for under $160, went to two different Starbucks in search of an eggnog latte, and in so drinking infused ourselves with the Holiday Spirit. That night I went over to Sonya's for mincemeat-making and wine drinking, and the heady smell of citrus, spice and brandy made me almost dizzy with longing for snow and early, dark nights filled with candles and evergreen trees. It is my favorite time of year!

So we're having Stephen, Moa, and Molly over for the Big Meal and I can already tell that we are way overcooking. No matter. We will drink a ton of prosecco and bourbon and we'll need all that starchy, buttery food to help mitigate our headaches the next day.

To wit:

- Dates baked in rosemary-cheddar crust
- Triscuits topped with cream cheese and "Best of Texas" candied jalapenos (it is sad, but this might be what I am most looking forward to for the entire meal)
- Gravlax, homemade by Moa
- Salad, homemade by Molly
- Fennel and Comice pear soup
- Turkey (10 lbs), to be brined on the porch overnight in orange juice and broth by Andy
- Salmon with arugula cream, to be made by Jesse
- Martha Stewart-meets-Zuni Cafe stuffing, made from chunks of Challah and many cups of butter
- Yum Yum Mashed Potatoes (incl. olive paste and scallions)
- Brussels Sprout Slaw, without which it would not be Thanksgiving
- The Easiest Cranberry Relish In the World, involving cranberries, a whole orange with skin, pecans, and sugar all ground up in the food processor (thanks to Jenny Smith for this recipe, which she taught me when we were in grad school)
- Caramelized sugar pumpkin pie (crust made by Kyle at the Mincemeat Pie Night)
- Pomegranate gelato
- Perhaps a Princess Cake made by Moa

Oof. You see? Enough to feed an army. Hopefully Margaret and Sonya will come over after their family feasts to help us consume at least the sugar and wine stages of the dinner. At least this year I think we will avoid the problem of having EIGHT DESSERTS.

I feel that I am missing things like squash and sweet potatoes and other traditional Thanksgiving foods, but I can make them next year instead. One thing I don't like is making the same meal every year. How boring! There is so much good Thanksgiving food out there! But I do think there would be mutiny if I failed to make the Brussels Sprout Slaw. It is perhaps our one Holiday Tradition.

Chicago 2007

2006-11-20T20:33:00.000-05:00

Who wants to have Food Feeding Frenzy 2007 in Chicago next summer? Who wants to go to Alinea? And other places? The Professional Society that I belong to is having its annual conference in Chicago next summer, and I intend to skip most of the sessions on EAD and DACS (sorry Tom) in favor of things like Italian Beef. I'm looking at you ladies specifically -- you ladies with the deep Chicago food knowledge -- Ms.s. JW and EB and CM. But everyone else is welcome too. Just let me know soon, because I suspect I need to make a reservation at Alinea about 9 months in advance.

Americans Are Boring

2006-11-17T17:15:00.000-05:00

Seattle vs. Helsinki street fashion: Helsinki wins, hands down! Similar climates but so much more POP in the land of ihanna.

(thanks to Jen for both links)

Believe The Hype

2006-11-13T10:05:00.000-05:00

We went to Momofuku Noodle Bar on Saturday night. We waited an hour outside. It was 100% worth it and I would have done it again the next night except for the promise of chicken pot pie from McReilly's.

This is just a placeholder, and a warning: those who do not eat of the pork might want to avoid the next entry, which will be a celebration of all things porcine. Including neck.

Barf Me Amadeus

2006-11-09T08:56:00.000-05:00

The Tatum at 50 East 129th Street starts its marketing

"Marketing has started for the Tatum residential condominium building at 50 East 129th Street.

The attractive, 7-story building has 18 apartments.

50 East 129th Street LLC of which Kathleen Dunn is executive vice president is the sponsor. The fourth amending to the offering plan filed with the New York State Attorney General’s Office in June, 2006 had a total purchase price offering of $8,395,000.

Prices range from about $330,000 for a 660-square foot unit on the first floor to about $650,000 for a 914-square-foot penthouse apartment on the seventh floor with a terrace.

The building, which is between Madison and Park Avenues, has a video intercom system, a roof deck, a recreation room, and individual storage.

Apartments have GE stainless steel appliances and washer-dryer hookups."

Secret Confessions

2006-11-07T19:11:00.000-05:00

Four things I like but shouldn't, and one thing I don't like but should.

1. Boursin cheese. I know this is basically "gourmet" over-spiced processed cheese food, but I cannot get enough of it. On crackers it is one of my favorite dinners.

2. Vitamin Water. Yes, it is Gatorade for Grownups, but it is not too sweet, it has clever packaging, it has a little bit of nutritional value... maybe? Anyway, delicious and so refreshing. I am clearly in their Target Demographic.

3. Lipton's Onion Soup Mix. Monosodium glutamate with fake onion flavoring. However, I find it impossible to make a sour cream dip that even comes close to touching the deliciousness of this one. Wait, maybe I shouldn't admit my weakness for sour cream dip either.

4. Girly Beer. I admit it publicly. I love girly beer. Ruby Ale, anything with apricot, anything with "winter spices", Hoegaarden, pumpkin ales, lambics, sweet Belgian things, hefeweizens, Blanche de Brooklyn. I am losing vast amounts of cred with Tom as he reads this right now. I do still love the stouts! And the Black Butte Porter! But I am now coming clean with my furtive, forbidden love of sweet, light, non-bitter beers.

5. I don't really like pasta much. Evidently I am among the .00000001% of people who feel this way. I am not that into bread either, except as a vehicle for black truffle butter at Le Petit Cafe, but pasta may be my biggest "meh" food. I will eat it if served it, and Asian noodle soups are fine by me, but I don't make it often, and when I do eat it, in macaroni and cheese or something, I like it seriously overcooked. Al dente is lost on me. Andy dearly hoped that our trip to Italy would change my mind about this, but it didn't. Alas.

Fart Soup

2006-10-22T23:33:00.000-04:00

Inspired by Eliz's recent post regarding the ease, simplicity, and overwhelming reward of soup-making, as well as the cold weather that punched us in the gut over the weekend, I bought a bunch of Eastern European-ish ingredients and threw them in a pot tonight. The deep, rich smells of cabbage, locally-made kielbasa by Hummel Brothers, white beans, and loads of dill and caraway are wafting through my house as I type. We'll eat it tomorrow night after the cabbage has gotten a chance to turn silky and the broth enriches a bit in the fridge. After which point I am certain that a different kind of deep, rich smell will begin to rise from the couch. Ahem. Damned, delicious cruciferous vegetables.

We've been eating not such exciting stuff lately. One of the reasons I love Andy so much is that he is game to indulge, on occasion, setting all moral qualms aside, in bad chain Tex-Mex fare with me at 3:30 on a Sunday afternoon, because it's not a good idea to go hungry to Trader Joe's and On The Border is so seductive in this barren Mexican-food-free-zone known as Central Coastal Connecticut*. But I would like to give a shout-out to the Westville Kosher Market and Deli out near Amity Wines & Spirits. If you are in need of babaganoush, spicy pepper salad, ethereal fluffy pita, cauliflower salad with tahini, and general Jewish grandmotherly and grandfatherly good cheer and fawning, look no further. Careful, though -- they close RIGHT AT SEVEN. Not 7:01. And sometimes more like 6:49.

*Okay, we could have gone to Taqueria Mexicana #2, home of the Foot Taco, but that requires a several-mile detour up the Post Road.

FinnFoodFest 2006

2006-10-16T18:53:00.000-04:00

I am back, and have had loads of other lovely food since my return, including a Camembert smuggled in from Quebec that smelled like sewage but tasted divine courtesy of Sonya and Ted, but just briefly, here is Helsinki (and the exhibition, which is the reason I was there). Apologies to those who have read this before, but here is the briefest and easiest synopsis of the trip:

Helsinki is a very small city with not a zillion obvious things to do, but the things there are to do are fun. It was not yet cold or dark -- the weather was just kind of like fall is here. The Finnish Home Depot is called Bauhaus. They get drunk very early in the night, pee in the bushes neat the post office, and then keep drinking. It is extremely safe to walk home by oneself past the train station at 4:00 a.m. Not one person was wearing flip-flops, and I also saw not one cat. The herring section of the supermarket is the size of an entire dairy section here, and the dairy section there is the size of an American produce department. Reindeer is very mild though very very dark in color, and they eat it there the way we eat beef here -- in everything. The grocery store also sells frozen birch branches for use in the home sauna, of which there is invariably one. George Michael is the background music in the grocery store, where one can buy Lordi Light Cola. The taxis are Mercedes and Volvo station wagons, and the cars are American-size, not French- or Italian-size. Everyone litters and pukes in the streets at 4:00 a.m. after leaving the bars, but then miraculously in the morning everything is sparkling clean again. People seem to love practicing their English with you, but they need no practice and speak better English than me. Strange English does occur, however. Several of us, including the Saarinen grandchildren, went to a bar called We Got Beef. And it was not a gay bar.

I ate a lot of reindeer, drank some sea buckthorn juice, consumed my weight in smoked salmon at the hotel breakfast buffet every morning, wolfed down plates of fried vendace and parsnips, and admired far more herring than I could ever eat. The Finns, they know how to display their preserved fish.

And! On the way home, the Canadian coach, Joe Soares, from Murderball was on my plane!

Bookending the Summer with Lobster

2006-10-01T22:50:00.000-04:00

Alexandra Wentworth, in her WASP Cookbook, writes that One Must Bookend the Summer with Lobster. Loyal readers might have thought I'd done that in Maine, but for me, the summer officially ends on Columbus Day, when Abbott's Lobster in the Rough closes for the season. Dinner last night was a hot lobster roll: a Connecticut specialty involving not the mayonnaisey, celeried salad served elsewhere, but instead a quarter-pound scoop of pure lobster adulterated only by fresh, sweet melted butter. It is the food of the gods. I once went to a conference in Boston and arranged my entire itinerary to rent a car and fly back out of Hartford so that I could drive to Noank, CT and get my fix, since such things are not available in California. Last night I gilded the lily by also eating a bowl of their lobster bisque, which is pretty much a hot, thick lobster milkshake, enriched with extra butter and sherry. All this after a pre-birthday indulgence of a breakfast Dirt Ball at the Bantam Bread Company -- a nutmeg muffin dipped in melted butter and rolled in sugar. Gee, good thing the Finns are known for their light 'n' healthy spa cuisine! My hope is that a good sauna or two will sweat all the butter out of me.

Anderson Valley in the News

2006-09-27T09:28:00.000-04:00

Oh my god, it's our summer vacation, suddenly writ large.

Hej Hej

2006-09-24T21:28:00.000-04:00

I'm not even jealous that Andy is going to Venice on Tuesday, because a week from then I'll be at the BALTIC HERRING FEST!!! Who the hell needs cichetti when you can have voileipäpöytä? Not to mention all the reindeer you can eat! This, though, might be a little much, even for me.

In preparation for total herring immersion, I have been eating a lot of this.

The Way Life Should Be

2006-09-14T09:50:00.000-04:00

- Beginning the day with lobster stew (aka "butter soup with some cream and lobster in it")
- An afternoon's walk on a remote island
- More lobster (this time with Champagne)
- Ice cream with Italian wine-soaked cherries
- Blind maple syrup taste-off (in a surprise upset, Vermont loses! Maine and New Hampshire's syrups place first and second.)
- Percolated coffee
- Nervous Nellie's Jams and Jellies (Blueberry Ginger preserves? Bought two jars.)
- A trip to Helen and Scott Nearing's homestead
- Good friends and a heavenly bed

Photos here.

A Rant

2006-09-06T13:05:00.000-04:00

Thank goodness someone in the mainstream press is finally commenting on celebrity-chef fatigue. I have been very tired of this phenomenon for some time. The New Batali Restaurant. The New Colicchio Restaurant. The New Keller Restaurant. In Berkeley, the New Waters or Relation-Of-Waters restaurant. I blame Keith McNally, in part (not to mention Jean-Georges Vongerichten), but I also blame the food magazines that, for want of paparazzi photos of movie stars, have created this monster cult of celebrity chefs whose new restaurants in far-flung locales become pilgrimage sites. What happened to the idea of going to a restaurant and eating a meal prepared by the chef whose job it was to cook at that restaurant? To develop menus for that very place, on a small scale, for a local patron base, without worrying about whether the same ingredients would be available at his other restaurant in Vegas? Why now, when we give such lip service to the small and local, are we so eager to fly across the country for the same Miso-Glazed Cod at Nobu in LA or Miami or Dallas that we ate at the Nobu in New York? Why are we interested in a chef's restaurant "concept", rather than a chef's own touch in the kitchen? I hesitate to heap kudos on anyone, knowing that tomorrow they could decide to join the fray and up their pay, but right now I raise a glass to Wylie Dufresne, Gabrielle Hamilton, Sharon Pachter and Charles Kiely, and other like-minded chefs for keeping their cooking at a scale they can control, rather than delegating their ideas to their sous-chef heirs.

A traumatic night

2006-09-01T22:02:00.000-04:00

...and this capped it off. Memories, well wishes, reminiscences welcome here. We were just at O'Rourke's two weeks ago with Ian and Arta, having memorable omelettes. I went there and cried in a booth on the day my sweet guinea pig died; I ate there on the morning of my 30th birthday; I can almost smell the steamed cheeseburgers cooking every time I pass the Middletown exit on I-91. Godspeed, Brian. Flickr photos here.

Recently

2006-08-29T17:46:00.000-04:00

- A "tuna melt supreme" at Copper Kitchen with Michele.
- A failed tomato plant and mutant strawberries, but scads of Anaheim chiles.
- Le Petit Cafe (duck, tuna, escargot, pork, lots of wine, B&B, etc. etc. extraordinary as usual (forgive the redundancy)) for Andy's birthday, with an extra dessert of Mexican chocolate mousse cake at home (of which we still have plenty, so come on over).
- North Carolina pulled pork and Pakistani vegetables at Christian's place in Vermont. An enormous Vermont Cheddar omelette the next day at the Blue Benn.
- Tasty hippie food that, sadly, gave me a bad stomachache at Lady Killigrew's Cafe at the Montague Book Mill.
- Too many lunches at Gourmet Heaven (let me tell you: anything but) due to bad hours at the reference desk.

Correction

2006-08-23T10:14:00.000-04:00

Those "thick bean thread noodles" I was swooning over during the Chinese feast? That was JELLYFISH. I need to bring Mr. Ip with me every time I go out for Chinese food.

In other news, Happy Birthday, Andy! We are celebrating tonight with Le Petit Cafe and a lopsided Mexican chocolate mousse cake that may not look amazing, but it was made with love!

And Lest We Forget Our Roots of Trash

2006-08-15T22:32:00.000-04:00

We went out with Ian and Arta on Sunday night looking for trash food. We explained our fascination with and addiction to the Sloppy Fingers at Christopher Martin's. Ian has been away from the United States for a long time, but I'm not sure that's even excuse enough for the SIX ORDERS OF SLOPPY FINGERS that the four of us ate in about 10 minutes flat. We asked for four orders, all on one plate, with extra blue cheese dressing, and when those were gone, and we were all sitting back in our chairs, mouths burning with satisfaction, Ian asked if we could eat any more. I said I could maybe have one. Andy said he could maybe have one. Meaning one finger EACH. So Ian ordered two more platters for the table.

And we understand that while we were at the Chinese banquet, the two of them went to another establishment on State Street and ordered yet more of the chicken fingers. Enjoy that Kiss of the Buffalo Sauce, guys.

Food Hangover

2006-08-15T21:56:00.000-04:00

I woke up this morning after about 3 hours of sleep and realized I needed some Rolaids now. Small wonder, since dinner the night before was a 10-course Chinese banquet, followed by some Experimental Desserts, one great glass of wine, one abysmal glass of wine, and one long and loud Metro-North trip home from New York. All this on a school night! Let me explain.

You remember Chef Ip. One day last month, before his trip to Hong Kong, he emailed Andy and invited him and Mrs. Delicious to dinner in Chinatown with him, his wife Winnie and son Kevin, and several of their friends at Mr. Tang of Mott Street. How could we say no? Even though we had the Macedoregonians staying at our house (more on them shortly), we knew we had to go. We stocked up on food, told Ian and Arta to fend for themselves, and off we went.

I met Andy at Katagiri at 4:00 after being inspired to try to find a Japanese pickle press by the knowledgable, kind folks at Kitchen Arts & Letters. My day had been a blur of new stores in the Meatpacking district, the truly beautiful Eva Hesse show at the Jewish Museum, and a capicolla slice at Pintaile's Pizza on Carnegie Hill. (Oh, right, and work -- a donor meeting first thing in the morning.) It was warm and summery, Andy and I were intoxicated by Japanese cheese cod sausage and housewares at Conran's and body-fluid art at P.S. 1, so it was in a general spirit of well-being and high humor that we barged sweatily into Mr. Tang's. Where we found THREE tables set up for all of us Friends of Roy. We sat down next to John and John, waiters at Zinc and Le Petit Cafe, and Kevin with his computer on all night, and Alvin and Mark and Melinda and Rachel. Tsingtao appeared by the dozen on the lazy Susan, along with countless condiments that I was too overwhelmed to try. The night went something like this, all ordered for us and served family-style by experts:

Course 1. Thick bean thread noodles with sliced beef (beef heart?), Chinese pork sausage, and squid
Course 2. Scallops and squid with snow peas and fried shrimp tofu toasts
Course 3. Fried shrimp with brocolli in a kind of lemony mayonnaise
Course 4. Squab (or duckling?) with crispy skin and shrimp cracker
Course 5. Scallop egg drop soup
Course 6. Crispy chicken with a sort of orange glaze
Course 7. Sea cucumber and Chinese mushrooms in brown sauce
Course 8. Lobster fried in ginger glaze with some kind of bitter green vegetable
Course 9. Whole fried fish skin with the flesh piled up in the middle in a salty white sauce
Course 10. Pork fried rice
Course 11. Some kind of fresh, handmade egg noodles in sesame sauce
Course 12. Fortune cookies, oranges, and honeydew

!!!!

I have never seen anything like it, and I am sure I am leaving stuff out. It was the stuff of dreams and miracles. I tried to pace myself and eat small amounts, but those bean thread noodles were just TOO GOOD to stop at one helping. We all agreed that the sea cucumber texture was kind of like chewing on earlobe, but that's just our dumb American palates talking.

It was about 9:30 and time to go home. If we *had* gone home, we could have been in bed at a reasonable hour -- maybe even before midnight! But -- in the immortal words of Cindy -- if you think we didn't go right out and ingest more, you obviously don't know us. Uptown a few blocks to Room 4 Dessert, a terribly-named terrible concept -- "dessert bar" -- that is one of the most interesting places to eat in New York right now. Will Goldfarb is the chef and much has been written about him, so I won't go into it except to say that Andy's dessert in a glass -- called "Little Jack Horner" -- was sheer delight after the endless piles of food. Liquid and layered, it involved plum air, lychee water, soaked plum, vin santo and Red Bull gelee. Mine was less successful: the "Each Peach" was too much sugar and too little surprise, consisting of an almond financier (nicely wet and dense), a peach and Campari meringue served in a dehydrator bag, some cold roasted peaches that were too bitter, a peach tea aspic that was delightful except for the basil blossom on top, which tasted like soap, and the white chocolate chantilly, which was the sweetness and consistency of Duncan Hines frosting in a can. I'll go back for the liquids, including the wines -- Andy and I have been searching high and low for nice Mourvedre by the glass, and it's nice to see a chef who appreciates it, too.

Today I ate grapes, thin beef broth, diet coke, and leftover rice from the Macedonian feast that Ian and Arta prepared for us on Friday. We are living right!

It Is the Dawn of a New Era in Connecticut, the Land of Steady Habits

2006-08-09T09:25:00.000-04:00

It was a bizarre feeling last night at 11:00 to realize that my guy had won. He won! The guy I voted for! It's been YEARS since that happened.

So come on, Joe. Don't second-guess the will of the people -- trying to overturn the popular vote is something you learned from George Bush, and it's not attractive. Don't be pathetic and desperate in trying to hang on to your seat. Go buy a house in Litchfield county and write your memoirs. It is time to go.

Summer on a Plate

2006-07-30T14:15:00.000-04:00

Our cupboard was bare after the trip, so yesterday I went to Bishop's Orchards to re-stock. Oh, the bounty! I came home with two quarts of blueberries destined for cake and daiquiris, okra and squash blossoms destined for a batter fry, and corn destined for my mouth as quickly as possible. Bishop's has started selling Connecticut farm wines for cheap, so I bought a bottle of a blended white as well -- worth a try, right? Further inspiration hit after I had an incredible sandwich at the Little Stone House, the ligher, less expensive and formal offshoot of the better-known Old Stone House in Guilford. I've never been to the main restaurant, but after my incredible sandwich of seared tuna, wasabi mayo, roasted red peppers, and cayenne-dusted cucumber slices, it's next on my list. It has been a long time since I had such a satisfying and memorable sandwich.

The tuna put me in mind of other delicious fish. Specifically, the most delicious of summer fish: BLUEFISH. I turned the car down Route 146, the most beautiful road in Connecticut, and pointed it at Bud's Fish Market in Indian Neck. There, for $7.95 a pound, was the most lovely filet of bluefish ever! Ever!!! If you have not had bluefish, you are in for a treat -- oily and rich, slightly salty with a shock of VERY dark meat, it's rich enough for company but so inexpensive that it's sometimes considered a trash fish by the kind of people who eat boring halibut all the time. At The Place, they sometimes have bluefish on the menu, but it's been cooked in a foil packet on the grill, which basically steams it with lemon. Cooking it close to the flame in your broiler with a gin-and-tonic-esque marinade creates a nice brown crust that belies the silkiness inside. Enjoy this recipe!

------------------------------------
Bluefish with Gin and Onions
adapted from Saveur, Aug./Sept 2005

1 bunch scallions
1 1 1/2 to 2 lb. skin-on bluefish filet
1 1/2 limes, halved
8 tbsp. melted butter
Salt and pepper
1/2 cup gin

1. Lay scallions in bottom of medium roasting pan or large baking dish in a single layer. Put fish, skin side down, on top of scallions and squeeze juice from one lime over fish. Pour 6 tbsp of the butter over fish and season to taste with salt and pepper. Cover whole dish with plastic wrap and let marinate at room temperature 30 minutes.

2. Preheat broiler. Uncover fish, transfer dish to broiler, and cook until top of fish just begins to brown, about 15 minutes. Meanwhile, squeeze juice from remaining lime half into a small saucepan. Add the remaining butter and the gin and bring to a boil over high heat.

3. Remove fish from broiler and pour gin mixture over fish. Return pan with fish to broiler and continue to broil until it is browned on top, flesh is firm to the touch, and fish is cooked through, about 3-5 more minutes. Serve hot, cold, or room temperature, with scallions on the side.

Promises, promises

2006-07-28T10:26:00.000-04:00

Yes, I will write about our trip! Really! We had beer in Mason jars in Port Costa, cellophane noodles with Dungeness crab in San Francisco, and homemade vegan wheat-and-gluten-free veggie burgers on the grill in Eugene. We swam in two rivers and drank a lot of good wine (and Andy drank some really, really bad wine). Our favorite store in Eureka has closed but now we have a new favorite store in Berkeley.

In the meantime, here are our photos from Oregon and here are those from California.

Back

2006-07-24T16:06:00.000-04:00

We were here.

More, with photos, soon, once I recover from the 8,352 emails at work.

West Coast Madness

2006-07-07T17:03:00.000-04:00

I cannot contain my glee any longer. We are going to Oregon and California in less than a week! For almost two weeks! We start off in Portland, my home town, staying at the Kennedy School, eating at Park Kitchen and Clarklewis (thanks to ExtraMSG for his recommendations last year to an overwhelmed former Portlander, I enjoyed meals at both of these places and now must go back on a yearly basis) and Burgerville and Voodoo Doughnut and gosh probably also Pix Patisserie and Bijou Cafe and several other places in the 48 hours we're there.

Then up Highway 30 to Astoria, where I was born, past Sauvie Island and Scappoose and St. Helens and the former Trojan Nuclear Power Plant. Hopefully lunch at the Columbian Cafe. Then two days at Neahkahnie with my sister and stepmom and aunts, eating crab and salmon and oysters fresh out of the water. Then to Eugene for a dinner with Deepfry, sadly not at New Sammy's Cowboy Bistro but we'll get to that on another trip.

Onward through Southern Oregon and over to Eureka and the Lost Coast Brewery for a glass of their Great White, and further to the ACTUAL Lost Coast. Then a day and a half in the Anderson Valley at Lazy Creek and Esterlina and Navarro and the Apple Farm. On our way to the Bay we'll stop for an espresso milkshake -- the best milkshake in the world, ever -- at Taylor's Refresher in St. Helena.

And then there's the Bay Area, where I think my head will explode if I begin to think about all the places we'll get to re-visit. My mouth is already watering over Vik's and Burma Superstar and Dona Tomas and Gregoire's potato puffs. And Cha-Ya, to make us feel healthy and absolved of our gluttonous sins.

I think we need more than 12 days. I think we might need 12 months.

Born on the Fourth of July

2006-07-05T17:36:00.000-04:00

Big birthday weekend around here. Stephen's was Monday, and we celebrated with a big barbeque in his front yard. BBQ pork ribs, brisket, and burnt ends provided by Jack Stack of Kansas City. It's becoming a tradition and for a week before the blessed event I begin seeing burnt ends everywhere: squirrels scampering up trees with burnt ends in their mouths, a burnt end on my keychain, etc.

Then Monday we drove up to Vermont for Christian's birthday. It was the best kind of arrival: late, hot, and tired, we walked in the front door and were bearhugged by Christian, who already had one Margarita in each hand for us. Sitting out on the counter were the several Mexican dishes he had made, a stack of steaming corn tortillas, and plates. Almost before we had set our bags down and said our hellos to the other guests, we had plates full of shredded chicken in tomatillo sauce, very spicy shrimp ceviche with avocados, zucchini and chorizo stew, and pinto beans with huge beautiful pork chunks.

The next morning, we got up, drank some emergency coffee, and braced to stand in line at the Blue Benn Diner in Bennington. It's maybe the second-greatest diner in the world (the best, of course, is O'Rourke's). All their specials are plastered to the walls, everything is fresh, including their doughnuts, real local warm maple syrup is served on demand, and the waitresses are indulgent enough to laugh and chat rather than be annoyed when all six of us decide to cram into one miniscule booth. One day, I want to go there for a meal other than breakfast, but that's not to say I wasn't happy with my strawberry-and-cream-cheese-stuffed sourdough french toast with hot strawberry syrup.

After some hiking, a big World Cup upset, many wildlife encounters and a game of "capture the frog" in the swimming pool, we started smelling the most wonderful smells wafting out of the kitchen. Sadia was in the middle of making an enormous Pakistani feast for Christian's July 4th birthday. There was enough for everyone to have three platesful, but I ate so much on my first plate that I thought I might really pop, for real this time. Eggplant raita, four kinds of pickle, beef that had been stewed since before breakfast, lentils with lemon, cabbage with several kinds of seeds, chicken curry (a homemade curry, not "chicken with curry powder"), piles of delicate rice, and flour tortillas serving as naan. All made without consulting a single recipe, every one of the dishes exquisite. The cake (brought by someone who has a big crush on Christian and refuses to believe he does not also pine for her, which added a bizarre twist to the day) was superfluous after a meal like that.

All that food made for a cramped, bloated, and generally uncomfortable three-hour drive home last night, but I think it was worth it.

PS. Happy one-year anniversary to this blog, today! Thanks for reading.

Unmasked!

2006-07-03T21:29:00.000-04:00

In celebration of the extension of my job, I made a reservation on the spur of the moment at our favorite restaurant, Le Petit Cafe, on Friday night. The chef, Roy Ip, answered the phone and when he took my name, he said, "oh, I know you." Which he does, as he has since the first time Andy and I went to Le Petit Cafe. That rainy March night when Andy finally moved here for real, he sat down with us and chatted at length, asking us what we did in New Haven, where we had moved from, sharing memories of food in the Bay Area. The next time we came in, a few months later, to sample the early summer produce, he sent us home with miniature apple tarts for our next day's breakfast. And the next time, when we came for the comforting yet over-the-top cassoulet after Andy's brother's wedding in Arkansas, he sent us celebratory after-dinner drinks (unbeknownst to us, he had just received a four-star rating from the New York Times) and introduced us to another table of diners, some local food writers. We go to Le Petit Cafe every time we have something to celebrate, since the one time we went elsewhere for a festive night, we wished we hadn't.

So we walk in on Friday night and Mr. Ip sees us and says, "Hello there, Mrs. Delicious!"

WHAT?

HOW???

A Google search for "Le Petit Cafe Branford". An unfamiliar website. He recognized me from the photo. I feel like Gael Greene. I need a picture with dark glasses and a wide-brimmed hat. My favorite chef! Recognizes my photo! Has read my dumb little blog! Am I honored? Am I horrified? Both.

Fortunately, there's nothing bad I could ever say about Le Petit Cafe. I never order duck anywhere else because I know I will be disappointed -- it will never be as good as the five-spice duck breast that Mr. Ip makes. I could, and sometimes do, eat the homemade truffle butter with a spoon. The mixed olives with garlic and cumin, the freshest pickled beets with ginger and mint, the diver scallops wrapped in Spanish ham, the hazelnut fondant, the cassoulet OH LORD that cassoulet.... If I keep eating there regularly, my last meal might come sooner than I think, but what a last meal it will be!

Now I'm off to change that photo. Before a chef I don't like quite as much tracks me down.

Austin photos

2006-06-30T22:31:00.000-04:00

To whet your appetite. More commentary shortly.

Everything Is Bigger In Texas

2006-06-23T18:39:00.000-04:00

Like the chicken-fried-chicken I had on Wednesday that was bigger than my head. Or the plate of migas and glass of horchata I had this morning that I could barely dent, having eaten the better part of four tamales and rice and beans and chips and an avocado margarita the night before.

We're in Austin. I'm writing from here. Since I am a grocery store nerd, I am off to the flagship Whole Foods to poke around (having already explored the wonders of Fiesta and Central Market on previous visits). We return Monday and I'll post eats and photos then. In the meantime, relax and enjoy a Shiner Bock this weekend.

We Are Not Practicing 'Controlled Eating'

2006-06-13T21:54:00.000-04:00

This was our Sunday.

Breakfast: Dutch Baby

Lunch: went on a hike, fortunately, because look what happened

Dinner: Einbecker Urbock Dunkel, two Wiener Wurst and two Nurnberger Wurst, and a plate of Kartoffelsalat mit large amounts of bacon at the Old Heidelberg Beer Garden
Then: a sausage, roasted garlic, and spinach pizza at Carminuccio's in Newtown
THEN: one scoop Cashews & Cream, one scoop Rich Chocolate ice cream with hot fudge and whipped cream at Dr. Mike's in Bethel.

I am going to start fasting tomorrow in anticipation of our Austin trip. Texas BBQ Triangle, here we come!

Deviled in a White Dress

2006-06-06T21:14:00.000-04:00

Marry me instead, Orangette. Our entire wedding reception will consist of nothing but endless varieties of deviled eggs.

This I Believe

2006-06-03T11:07:00.000-04:00

Anytime Jason Sheehan wants to get a congregation together, I'm there.

Porch Produce

2006-06-02T21:54:00.000-04:00

Today, Andy and I breakfasted on the first strawberry to ripen in its little container on the porch. It was so red and juicy that it stained the cutting board. Andy pronounced it "more tart than sweet" and I retorted that "that is the way real strawberries taste." Disagreement over how "real" strawberries taste ensued. Nevertheless, it was delicious on my cereal. Also ready to pick are two ripe pea pods. What should we do with them? A tiny soba noodle dish with one perfect pea pod on top? Maybe with all of these little harvests, I can pretend I am Thomas Keller and insist that one perfect, tiny vegetable is a better meal than a filling dish of something lesser. Come on over for dinner, folks! In a couple of weeks, you might be lucky and get a single organic tomato with your lone organic pea. A study in minimalism and self-sufficiency!

Frank Goes Slumming

2006-05-24T09:49:00.000-04:00

Usually, I don't even bother to read Frank Bruni of the NY Times, but evidently he just went on a cross-country fast-food-eating road trip. And I am gratified that he hated Gold Star Chili as much as I did.

However, it is his deep and abiding loss that he didn't see fit to make it anywhere near the Pacific Northwest to sample what is literally the best fast food in the country: Burgerville.

Wow. That's quite a claim I just made. No offense, In-n-Out and Rubio's. I still love you, too.

How I Feel About the Finding Aid

2006-05-23T16:38:00.000-04:00

It's coming along. Slowly.

Hangover Cures

2006-05-19T12:48:00.000-04:00

Fritos
Starbucks Coffee Frappuccino with an extra shot
Two eggs over-easy and white toast
Diet Coke (from a soda fountain)
Saltines
Goody's Headache Powder
Kielbasa
Not drinking four Manhattans in a row with nothing to sop them up except a little bit of tofu, bean sprouts, and peanut sauce

Porch Porn

2006-05-17T12:13:00.000-04:00

Stuff I planted is actually blooming, people! Spring has sprung, the rain has stopped, and it is time for people to come hang out on our porch and drink fruity cocktails long into the night. I made a batch of Rhubarb Collins elixir the other day and it is still, after all these years, the Best Drink in the World.

Here I will try to lure you all to the porch with photos of cute containers of herbs and tomatoes, jasmine and clematis:

When you come over, you will be greeted by the cute black kitty who lives on the downstairs porch. S/he arrived in the dead of winter and we all took pity on him/her and fed him/her and now s/he has adopted the house.

A Pig at the Doodle

2006-05-13T23:12:00.000-04:00

You'd think I'd gone over to London to visit Pauline rather than vice-versa when I tell you that's what we ate for lunch on Thursday. Like "bubble and squeak" or "bangers and mash", "a Pig at the Doodle" sounds silly in that English way that they have about food. But actually, we were right here, wandering around the Have on a very Portland-like day, grey and misty and not really raining, and just as I was beginning to feel peckish, what were we standing in front of but the Yankee Doodle, one of my favorite places to eat in the entire country. Fortunately Pauline was up for a Pig, so we went in, sat down at the counter, ordered two Pigs and two Cokes (made from syrup and soda water), ate them, and were out, $6 poorer, in five minutes. A Pig -- I think I've mentioned this before -- is a hot dog stuffed with cheese, wrapped in bacon, fried on the griddle, and presented to you in a little jacket of a warm, grilled hot dog bun with an extra pat of butter on it for good measure. Pauline got an excellent photo of a pile of Pigs on a plate awaiting their fate on the griddle, along with many other photos -- all of these are hers:

Our day in New Haven did not involve as much athletic eating as I imagined it would. Perhaps this was due to our gross overconsumption in New York, the day before, of pollo al ajillo (with black beans -- which Pauline had never seen the likes of before and which she declared to be "sludge") and several cafes con leche at La Rosita, out-of-season oysters at the Oyster Bar in Grand Central, and too many gimlets and fancy spring cocktails to count at the Royalton before coming home on the train with thousands of Yankees and Red Sox fans. Pauline was amazed that they were able to ride peaceably on the train together without blood spilled or police intervention. Still, we managed to have the aforementioned Pig, plus some snacks in Stony Creek with a seagull ("it's as big as a chicken!!!" -- Pauline), plus a few pieces each of fried eggplant and sausage pizza from Modern. And then some beers at the Firehouse, where Pauline also gave me some excellent knitting-in-the-round tips. If it's as easy as she makes it sound, everyone is getting cute cap-sleeved sweaters for Christmas this year. I am still so happy that Pauline decided to use one of her New York visit days for a day trip up here to our little corner of the world. We enjoyed the Yale Center for British Art, the Winchester Repeating Arms Factory, the House on Edgehill Where the Evil New Owners Tore Out Their Gorgeous Trees for No Reason, and the Thimble Islands. Not bad for an unhurried day in the middle of the week.

Other news to report:

- We had a gift certificate to Zinc, which we used the other weekend to celebrate a scholarship that I got. We had dinner on a Sunday, which was an unexpectedly awesome time to go to Zinc, because their wines are all 50% off on Sunday nights. Rock. We had a $70 bottle of Argyle reserve Pinot for the price of a much lesser bottle. Sadly, we must report that Zinc is really good for appetizers and drinks and half-off wine, but our dinners were over-rich and under-seasoned and just, generally, not great. I had salmon with dal, and it was disappointing in a way that is just kind of heartbreaking -- it was almost good, and I knew what was wrong with it, but it seems petty, somehow, to complain that it was "too rich." Likewise Andy's risotto with scallops and lobster. It wasn't Arborio rice, it wasn't toothsome, but it was loaded with all of these expensive ingredients so that it felt luxurious, as though the luxury would make up for its not being cooked correctly. We will go back, though, for the Asian pear "Martini" and the crispy duck wonton "nachos". How wrong can you really go?

- About that scholarship. We're going to Austin for a week in June and we need recommendations. Stephen and Burke and Molly all went to school there, so we've heard from them about some not-to-miss places (the Salt Lick, Polvo's fish tacos), but we need more help, people. If you know Austin and where we should eat, don't hesitate to weigh in. We are particularly concerned about our barbeque strategy. Austin sits in the middle of the Texas Barbeque Triangle and we want to hit as many of the greats as we can without (a) doing nothing but driving to and from barbeque pits and (b) becoming so constipated from brisket consumption that it requires surgical intervention. Is this possible?

Another Sad Day, For Two Reasons

2006-05-02T18:37:00.000-04:00

I told you La Rosita was closing.

And the sadness continues, with my failure of a treacle pudding and custard. Betsy attempted it, using the Tea and Sympathy recipe, a couple of days ago with decidedly mixed results. The cake was too sweet and the custard never thickened, she said. Plus the custard was strangely grainy. I tried the exact same recipe last night and came to the very same sad conclusion. Tea and Sympathy seems to play pretty fast and loose with their recipes, and quite possibly wants to keep you, the home cook, from being able to duplicate the deliciousness they serve in the restaurant. I understand that treacle itself is slightly-caramelized sugar and therefore sweet, but then why do they tell you to add another CUP of sugar to the cake itself? And when I looked at the custard recipe, I thought I would just put it back on the stove after whisking in the yolks, and simmer it until it thickened, like when I make ice cream custard base. It never ever reached the point that my ice cream custard reaches -- almost a boilover but not quite. And then, it was all gritty with egg even after I ran it through a strainer, with no thickness at all -- condensed milk would have been thicker. AND it has none of the lushness that the custard at the restaurant has. Feh. So now I have this giant cake with two sticks of butter and four eggs in it that is too sweet to eat, and basically some sticky sweet milk with four wasted, curdled, strained-out yolks to pour on top of it.

Here is the whole cake (in Bundt form!):

Nasty custard that I couldn't even strain all the egg out of:

Mmmm, oozy treacle:

Cut piece of treacle pudding, with curious cat in background coming to see what's up:

In the cookbook, evidently, the Tea and Sympathy ladies mention that you can just as easily use Bird's Brand Instant Custard Mix. Pauline is going to bring some over from London next week -- perhaps that is the beef-suet-enriched stuff that feels like an angel's slipper on the tongue? Will experiment and let you know.

Also, a third thing to be sad about. The beautiful gorgeous warehouse in Greenpoint right behind Siobhan and Jeff's apartment burned to the ground today over 6 hours. Evidently one could see the smoke in Bridgeport.

Photo by Carlybusta on Flickr.

All in all, I am ready to go back to bed and start over tomorrow.

A Sad Day

2006-04-25T18:38:00.000-04:00

One of my real heroes, Jane Jacobs, has died. Even The Gutter has a relatively non-snarky trubute to her. As well they fucking should.

Although I must admit that the first thing I thought when Andy called me to tell me was "poor thing probably died of a heart attack when she heard Joel Kotkin talking at the University of Toronto about how suburbs aren't so baaaaaad."

Late on All Counts

2006-04-24T17:13:00.000-04:00

Well, don't I feel foolish. Here I go all blabbing on my blog about how I am going to make this Treacle Pudding for St. George's Day, and I forget all about it. Actually, I didn't forget -- I just thought it was the 26th, not the 23rd. Oh well. It's not going to happen this week, regardless. Next week, when things calm down, when my friend and co-worker is ensconced in the alabaster walls across the street, when my presentation is over and my EAD script is run: then it will be time to celebrate with a Treacle Pudding. Until then, I eat leftover leek tart.

I realize I've been negligent in posting, especially since we had such Good Eats on our mini-Easter-vacation in Little Compton, Rhode Island. Three cheers for Gray's Ice Cream for their ginger and black raspberry ice creams, the Milk and Honey Bazaar for their Italian cheese and country pate,, and the DeWolf Tavern for their Malpeque oysters with balsamic vinegar and peppercorn sorbet, as well as possibly the best dessert I have ever had in my life (hint: it did not involve chocolate or flour). Three jeers for the Westport Rivers Winery (except for their Pineau de Pinot), although we really liked the Black Lager at their sister brewing company, Buzzards Bay. Also jeers for the fact that it was too early in the season for us to take advantage of the vast number of farm stands out there. We'll have to go back mid-summer for some tomatoes, but please remind us, if we stay again at the Stone House Club, which was lovely in every other respect:

-- here's the view from the room --

that we must remember to ASK THE PRICE of the specials on their dinner menu. Never before have I felt so duped as when we were presented the bill for a $19.95 appetizer salad of some dense, bready fried scallops on tough little greens with bottled ginger-soy dressing. I thought it must have been a mistake -- $9.95? Maybe? But no. Next time, we picnic on the private beach instead:

First of the Season

2006-04-19T11:04:00.000-04:00

Cherry blossoms on campus:

Cheese and Pork

2006-04-10T09:16:00.000-04:00

A good description of what I ate this weekend, but also what this article is about. Who knew that cheese museums were so contentious? Or such cash sinkholes?

Lunchtime Haiku

2006-04-06T17:25:00.000-04:00

At 12:45 PM 4/6/2006, you wrote:

He better come soon
or he will discover me
passed out under desk.

At 12:44 PM 4/6/2006, Tom wrote:

Scott, he mova da
paper. He will come find us
when he is finished.

At 12:25 PM 4/6/2006, you wrote:
Tummy growling now
Gather Scott, and let's go soon
I am feeling faint

At 12:11 PM 4/6/2006, Tom wrote:

The burrito man
makes superior fare than
tamale man does

Try for yourself though
You are Mrs. Delicious
I am only Tom

At 12:04 PM 4/6/2006, you wrote:

Did I hear you say,
once, the tamale cart sucks?
I am craving one.

Knucklehead

2006-04-03T17:14:00.000-04:00

Well, this was quite a weekend. After a complete dearth of interesting eating opportunities, it was a breath of fresh spring air to have so many occasions to gorge ourselves, beginning with Friday evening in The Dean's Loft. There was a symposium at the Yale School of Architecture this weekend that we were invited to attend, along with the inevitable Martini reception afterward. What made it different this week is that Andy was also invited to dinner at The Dean's Loft afterward. He successfully finagled an invitation for me, too, and so the two of us processed over to The Loft with all of the other identically-dressed young, male acolytes, where we were served yet more gin and compelled to MINGLE before the buffet-style dinner was served.

We didn't mingle with a lot of success -- we did get talking with a bitter young Dutch architecture student for a while -- and the dinner was kind of bizarre. We ate with utensils and drank from glasses of The Dean's design, which I remembered all too well from my few short months of working at The Dean's firm. The food was incredibly eclectic. Actually, that is the nice way of saying that nothing went with anything else. We started with a black-eyed-pea and mango cold salad that ended up giving me bad gas for the rest of the weekend. Followed by cold asparagus spears; leaf lettuce salad with capers on it; seafood enchiladas; and brisket in a wash of barbeque sauce. Not exactly the kind of food that's easy to eat balanced on your lap as you lean against a windowsill, though we had it much better than the poor soul who, upon sitting down, totally blew out the legs of one of The Dean's Eames chairs. Oops.

Promptly at 10:30 we were dismissed from the loft with the command, "TAKE THEM TO THE ANCHOR!" Evidently we young kids were in charge of taking the older visiting speakers over to the dive bar across College Street. Which we did, for a while, with the conversation eventually drunkenly devolving into yet another discussion of where we all were on September 11th. I have this conversation no less than every three months, I swear. No one ever gets tired of talking about it.

After the world's second most depressing talk on Saturday -- developers are planning to turn our beloved Long Island City into a vertical suburb, and this time it's really going to happen -- we soothed our hangovers with hair-of-the-dog Martinis and a nap before I made up a very creamy and decadent version of kabocha squash soup, taking Deborah Madison's advice and adding a little pumpkinseed oil to finish it before serving. Mmmm! Then we went to a Purim (two weeks late) party at Uri and Shira's house, to which we wore some lame costumes, and drank beer and ogled everyone else's really great costumes, and ate Hamentaschen and hot cross buns.

But the real treat came yesterday, when we woke up without hangovers and with so much sun pouring in that we needed to open the storm windows for the season before breafasting on "chilaquiles" (a.k.a. "nachos with eggs to make us feel like it's a healthy breakfast"). Spring is here! And what better way to celebrate than a country drive out to a German beer garden? Stephen and Moa had told us about Old Heidelberg in Bethel and raved about their outside beer garden setup. By the time we got out there, it was a little chilly to sit outside (despite its hitting 70 degrees on our open-sunroofed drive along the Housatonic!), so we sat inside next to a birthday party that was (thankfully) just winding up. The beers we ordered were delicious -- light and crisp and floral and perfect for drinking when we go back in the full summer and sit outside. The salads were crisp and wonderful as well, especially the vinegar-and-bacon grease-soaked potato salad and the tart cucumbers with cream. Initially, we had both ordered the Wiener Schnitzel -- we had driven past a couple of fast-food joints on the way and the smell of fried food was just irresistable -- but after thinking it over a bit, Andy changed his order to the Pig Knuckle, which was billed as coming with a thick and crispy skin with lots of pork underneath. And thank GOD he changed his order, because just LOOK:

I mean, can you BELIEVE that? It cost us $23.50, but neither of us had ever tackled such a thing. It was worth it. Maybe not to the restaurant, because as I tried my hardest to cut some of the skin away from the meat, I completely lost control of my knife hand and hit my beer glass with such force that it toppled over and BROKE on the table. Oops, indeed. And after all of that, I am sorry to report that the skin was not that dazzling. It was too "crispy" to really chew -- imagine one of those dried-out pig ear dog chew toys -- and lacked any of the salty flavor I was expecting. But the meat inside the joint was truly unbelievable. It was like carnitas -- all dark meat (who knew that pigs had dark meat? I thought it was The Other White Meat!) and chewy/crispness and "deep, throbbing porkiness", as Tom Gogola of the New Haven Advocate might say. My Wiener Schnitzel was not nearly as satisfying -- I think everything on my plate lacked salt, and my table lacked a salt shaker, and after the whole broken glass incident I didn't want to call any more attention to myself by asking for one. The verdict seems to be that we'll go back for the beer and picnic tables but skip the expensive, underseasoned food. Unless they have a Pig Knuckle special again.

Then, as if we needed any more proof that we are utter gluttons, we drove into downtown Bethel for a dose of Dr. Mike's ice cream. We shared a "small" PINT of Chocolate Lace and Rich Chocolate ice creams with "just the tiniest bit" of hot fudge. God. The Mocha Lace is better at Wentworth's, for sure, but the Rich Chocolate pretty much tastes like pulverized chocolate bound together with just the smallest amount of butterfat. It barely even has enough liquid in it to melt! It stayed solid almost the entire time we were eating it, even after the hot fudge had cooled. That dish was enough chocolate to hold me for the next six months. I know it probably doesn't sound like it when you read this blog, but chocolate really isn't one of my favorite things, and I seldom crave it. But now I know: next time I do crave it, only a drive to Bethel will help.

Falling Down on the Job

2006-03-29T09:48:00.000-05:00

Dear readers, lest you think I have abandoned this blog, let me reassure you that I have not. I have just not been eating well or interestingly lately. Most nights we're too tired to put in the effort to even boil potatoes, not to mention that I've got about 83 cents in my bank account at the end of the month, so lately we've been eating things like Kraft Macaroni and Cheese with bacon in it, or a Boboli pizza crust with pesto and spinach and olives salvaged from the back of the fridge. Sad but true. I told Andy that once I get paid, I am going on a week-long sushi Cleanse. All fish, rice, and vegetables, all the time.

It is only slightly heartening to me that no one else has posted in a while, either. All my regular food blog links have been dormant for a week or more. Are we all just getting through these last few days of winter on the stale dregs of our larders, preparing to emerge with endless dishes of beets and leeks and asparagus and rhubarb when the temperature finally hits 60?

Wait a Minute

2006-03-21T18:19:00.001-05:00

Did you just see that? In the link that I posted for Tea and Sympathy. In the "Nicky's News" section. The part where she says that now available next door in celebration of Easter at A Salt and Battery are deep-fried Cadbury Creme Eggs.

I feel faint.

Treacle Pudding

2006-03-21T17:49:00.000-05:00

Sam at Becks & Posh has put out the call for an international St. George's Day Feast of all desserts English on April 23rd. Since I've already gone the tea-sandwiches-and-scones route, I think next comes Treacle Pudding with Custard, courtesy of Tea & Sympathy in New York. There was a time in my life when I used to walk out of my way "on the way home" to get a piece of this most incredible cake. The custard alone was worth the price. Betsy recently bought their cookbook, and we are both amazed to find that it's just a very standard custard recipe -- I swore it must have had beef suet in it or something to make it so melt-on-your-tongue light and perfect with the cake. They do say, in the cookbook, that Bird's brand custard mix from the store will work equally well -- so perhaps that's what they use at the restaurant. If I can get hold of it, it's what I'll use. I have a tin of Lyle's Golden Syrup at home just waiting for me to make this.

Better yet, you all should make it, too -- join the Bundt Revolution and make it in a Bundt pan! Here are the recipes. All courtesy of Tea & Sympathy.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

TREACLE PUDDING

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter
1 cup sugar
4 eggs
A few drops of vanilla extract
2 cups sifted all-purpose flour
1 heaping teaspoon baking powder
1 1/4 cups Tate & Lyle Golden Syrup (a little extra will do no harm).

With an electric mixer, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.
Add the eggs, one at a time, along with the vanilla.
With a spatula, fold in the flour and baking powder and mix until smooth.
Preheat oven to 350F.
Butter and flour a 10-inch round Bundt pan.
Pour the syrup into the pan, then spoon in the sponge batter, gently smoothing the top with a spatula.
Bake for about 30 minutes; the sponge should be golden on top.
Remove the pudding from the oven and let it cool for 2-3 minutes. Place a plate on top of the Bundt pan, then quickly but firmly turn the plate and pan upside down to release the cake onto the plate.. You may need to loosen the edges very slightly with a knife before you flip it.
Serve with hot custard.

HOT CUSTARD

3/4 cup heavy cream
1 cup whole milk
1/4 cup plus 1 Tbsp granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
4 egg yolks

Heat cream, milk, sugar, and vanilla until hot but not boiling. Remove from heat, whisk in egg yolks.

Much Better Than Slim-Fast

2006-03-20T17:25:00.000-05:00

A weight-loss tip: If you want to consume a liquid that will make you absolutely full for the entire rest of the day so that you can't even bear the thought of eating anything else, look no further than the hot chocolate with a homemade marshmallow from City Bakery. Now with a new West Coast (Santa Monica) location! We missed this, as we did the Fondue Festival at Artisanal, but keep your eyes open next winter for their hot chocolate festival.

It was like pudding. Warm, unctuous pudding with a little fluffy melting cloud of whipped sugar in the middle. We think that the ingredients list must have read "Chocolate, Heavy Cream, Cocoa Butter, Butter, Sugar." It was too much for me to finish. Can you believe it?

Photo from New York Magazine.

You Can Never Have Too Many Bundts

2006-03-15T17:18:00.000-05:00

Last Sunday, we gathered many friends together to celebrate BundtFest 2006! The inspiration for BundtFest came about on New Year's Eve, when we were all over at Sabrina's house pre-Fireball, drinking Margaritas and glancing through the "The Lives They Lived" issue of the New York Times Magazine. Someone mentioned that H. David Dahlquist, the inventor of the Bundt pan, had died recently. Amazingly, Aaron stepped up to the plate and delivered an entire extemporaneous speech about the life of Mr. Dahlquist and the origins of the Bundt pan. There is just something about the word "Bundt" that is so much fun to say, and so appetizing, that you can't help wanting to immediately make and eat some Bundts. We drunkenly promised each other that there would be a Bundt potluck party in the near future.

As mentioned in a previous post, Sabrina caught the Bundt bug a couple of weeks ago and suggested that we turn thought into action and have a Bundt Fiesta ASAP. Well, it finally happened. Andy and I cleaned the house, ironed a tablecloth, and opened our doors to all comers, as long as they came bearing a Bundt.

The Bundts were exquisite. First to show up was Moa's Swedish Saffron Bundt, with its intense aroma and toothsome crumb.

Next came Sarah's light and sweet Walnut Bundt:

Followed by Sonya's traditional Savory Lime Jello Salad Bundt with cabbage and cottage cheese (which tasted much, much better than it sounds) and her more experimental Cornbread Bacon Bundts with Molasses Glaze (which tasted just as fucking amazing as they sound).

Already, that's a lot of Bundts, considering that I had also prepared a Meat Bundt with Egg Mimosa:

But the Bundts just kept coming. Michele and Burke brought not one but many Bundts: a Clementine-Caradamom Bundt with candied violets, clementine peel, and cardamom custard, as well as Ginger-Green Tea Mini-Bundts with Green Tea Anglaise. Both of these Bundts smelled as good as they looked. And they were so moist. I could not bear to cut into them, but I was really glad that I did. And their friend (and our new friend) Joe brought over a Butter Rum Rose Bundt that, according to Stephen, looked "like something out of a John Waters movie." Once it was cut, you could see it for the perfect pink chiffon cloud that it was. All, exquisite.

Looks like Spam, tastes like heaven:

The Bundts just would not stop. At one point, even before all of the guests had arrived, we decided that we needed to start eating some Bundt so that (a) we could make room on the table for the two Bundts yet to come and also (b) so that we could help our stomachs absorb some of the Rum Bundt Punch (aka Bunt Bundel) that Andy had made for the occasion. It included not only Bundt-shaped ice cubes made from different colors of Gatorade, but also an optional Life Saver garnish.

Sabrina, Kyle and Darren arrived soon after the first cutting of the Bundts with their masterpiece, a gorgeous Meat Bundt filled with rice and raisins and garnished with beautiful roasted red peppers.

And for the piece de resistance, Aaron brought over -- straight from the oven and still warm -- his "Tunnel of Lemon" Bundt, which was comprised of a sweet lemon cake with a warm, melty center tunnel of cream cheese. AS IF we needed any more deliciousness at that point. We all ate SO MUCH Bundt.

Bundts before:

Bundts after:

It was a lot of fun. We still have some leftover Bundt at our house, and last night Andy and I ate Meat Bundt sandwiches for dinner. Nutkin and Blini especially enjoyed the Meat Bundts. And now I am going to the gym to go try to remove this ring of Bundt from around my waist.

Worst Cooking Day Ever

2006-03-08T17:50:00.000-05:00

On Monday I decided to do something special and make some tasty treats for us to eat out of the leftovers in our fridge. I enjoyed an unexpected success with an unorthodox roast-chicken cooking method (it can't be that unorthodox if I learned about it in The Joy of Cooking, I suppose, but roasting a chicken on its side was nothing I'd ever heard of before) and so was perhaps overconfident in deciding to make a couple of things I had never made before: a lemon mousse pie with gingersnap crumb crust, and bucatini.

It's easier to make a list of the things that went wrong than a narrative, so from start to finish, it went like this:

1. I couldn't find a recipe for lemon mousse pie, and, wouldn't you know it, the search function on Epicurious was on the fritz. (Not only would it not find the lemon mousse recipes I'd seen a couple of days earlier, it wouldn't find ANY mousse, nor salmon, nor shrimp. If you can't find shrimp on Epicurious, you KNOW something must be wrong.) So I decided to just, um, make it up. Adapting recipes is a strength of mine; making them up is not.

2. Gingersnap crust. Take stale gingersnaps, break into pieces, melt butter, whirl all in food processor. Right? No. After I pressed the mess into a pie pan, I had to blot out the excess butter with a paper towel. Perhaps it will get better if I bake it for 10 minutes? No. Repeat blotting.

3. Lemon mousse. Make Meyer lemon curd, check. Whip cream, check. Chill both, check. Fold curd into cream, check. This was all just fine, but I feared that the mousse would be too thin to be cut as pie, so I froze the whole thing overnight. I tried to eat a frozen piece last night and it was a DISASTER. The gingersnap crust had hardened into a strange toffee-like substance and refused to be cut into. The mousse itself was full of ice crystals and totally unsatisfying. In frustration, I put the whole thing back into the fridge to thaw, but I don't have high hopes that it will improve as a semifreddo.

4. Bucatini is the reason they make things called "pasta pots". Because bucatini are long, and thick, and refuse to bend when submerged even in a soup kettle of boiling water. I was terrified that one half of the pasta would be overcooked and the other half would be undercooked. It probably was, but I didn't notice because...

5. Bucatini, despite contrary experiences in Italian restaurants, does not take well to a semi-runny sauce. It also does not lend itself to being cut easily. It was like trying to eat a bowl full of wriggling, live eels trying to escape. Red sauce -- more liquid than when I originally made it, as I hadn't allowed it to simmer long enough to get rid of the extra accumulated juices -- flew off the ends of the pasta onto everything within spitting distance: the tablecloth, my skirt, my boyfriend, the radio, the cat. The bucatini sat in a lump in my stomach once I finally conquered them. It was so depressing.

Fortunately there was a lot of Viognier left over, which made it all the more easy to get into bed early, pull the covers over my head, and sleep off my total culinary embarrassment.

I think I need to accept that while I like to cook, I will never be a good cook, or at least a consistently good cook. I think I am fine with that. It is more fun to eat other people's awesome food, anyway.

Edited to add: Okay, after being patted on the back by Andy and remembering that all cooks sometimes fail when they experiment, I have emerged from my little pity party. Kind of. I will still be wary of bucatini for a while.

Lunch List

2006-03-07T18:53:00.000-05:00

New Haven is full of good food, but not a lot of it is located anywhere near my office, nor is very much of it affordable on a regular basis. Based on the criteria below, here, by popular demand, is a list of acceptable lunch places within a quick walk of the Yale campus. Please note that not all of these are great -- this is a list for when I am (or you are) bored of the usual suspects.

The (delicious) Usual Suspects

Roomba burrito cart (which has the best burritos I have yet tasted on the east coast, hands down. Five bucks.)
Zaroka's Indian lunch buffet
York Street Noodle House

Places I Would Eat Every Day If They Weren't So Expensive/Slow/Bad For Me

Sahara (so much better than Mamoun's)
Soul de Cuba
Bar
Louis Lunch
Gastronomique
Judies
Pot-au-Pho
Bentara (their lunch special is actually affordable)
Miso (ditto)
Union League (ditto ditto)
Yankee Doodle (this is one of my favorite restaurants IN THE COUNTRY, but I can only handle a cheese, a pig, and a grilled donut once every six months or so.)

Decent Everyday Food

Gourmet Heaven
That random pizza place on Broadway
Au Bon Pain (it Pains me to say it, but the soup is actually... memorable)
Educated Burgher
Ivy Noodle (this is not in the same universe of goodness as York Street, but the Sesame Hot Oil Wontons are really, really good)
Cosi
Thai Taste
Bangkok Garden (this is not as good as Thai Taste)
Mamoun's
Book Trader
Atticus
Copper Kitchen (their macaroni and cheese special is good on a rainy Friday)
Chow
Yorkside Pizza (the spinach pie and the greek salad are both enormous and tasty)
Quiznos CLOSED
Vito's Deli
East Melange Noodle Bar (home of UNAGI DUMPLINGS!)

Places I Have Not Been To For Lunch (Or Otherwise, In Some Cases) But Which Show Promise

La Piazza CLOSED
Istanbul Cafe
Pacifico
The Anchor
Sandra's
Hot Tomato's (they have a burger + beer for $5 special on Tuesday nights, people! Spread the word!)
Cafe Bottega (for the gelato)
Ciao Bella (ditto)
Zinc
Royal Palace

Places I Refuse To Eat, Period

CLAIRE'S CORNER COPIA (Claire and her ilk are the reason for all of the negative associations people have with "vegetarian food")
and her evil sister restaurant, BASTA (At which she serves meat. Why?)
Rainbow Cafe CLOSED, PRAISE THE LORD
BULLDOG BURRITO (why any sane businessperson would attempt to compete with Roomba is beyond me)
The Whole Enchilada (ditto)
Bruegger's Bagels (dude, those aren't bagels)
Cafe Adulis (I can't deal with the clammy injera bread)
Lalibela (ditto)

And there you have it. If I didn't mention your favorite place, let me know so I can go try it out.

Memory Lane

2006-03-01T21:53:00.000-05:00

Le Gastronomica Nouveau Est Arrive! Always an occasion in our house, this issue made my heart flutter all the more when I noticed that, on page 93, the “Chef’s Page” is devoted to my favorite Ann Arbor restaurant, Le Dog. What I remember most about this place – at which I never ate a hot dog – was the way that the rolls from Zingerman’s that they sold for 50 cents alongside their soups would absorb all of the cream and stock while retaining their chewiness, so that you’d still have to tear into the sourdough while your mouth was simultaneously flooded with liquid richness. (Ah, who doesn’t love some good food porn?) If you’re ever in Ann Arbor, do a good thing for yourself and get a cup of Le Dog’s Tuscan squash and Gorgonzola soup. Or their lobster bisque (served only on Thursdays and Fridays, if I remember right). It’s only a take out place, but sitting on a bench when it’s 19 degrees outside won’t bother you a bit once you have a spoonful of the soup.

Man. There are few things to miss about Ann Arbor*, but I really, really miss Le Dog.

*Aside from the farmer’s market, the cherry scones at Zingerman’s, Jefferson Market, the triple at Blimpy Burger, the lemon ice cream at the Washtenaw Dairy, and the comprehensive French New Wave video collection at the Ann Arbor District Library.

Forty Days

2006-02-28T10:30:00.000-05:00

Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday, which means it's time to think of something impossible to give up for Lent. Enough people evidently give up meat for the entire forty days to warrant a helpful sign from Taco Bell suggesting menu options that might be ordered without meat. (How do I know this? Andy and I went to Taco Bell last Thursday. We had seen so many of those ads for the CrunchWrap Supreme during the Olympics that we kind of had no choice but to go try them out. It's because of people like us that Guadalupe la Poblanita, just up the road from Taco Bell, has closed.)

So, I'm not going to give up meat. But I'm taking suggestions.

Bundt Preview

2006-02-27T17:36:00.000-05:00

Sabrina emailed Sonya and me on Friday to announce that she had made a great Bundt cake out of bananas and cardamom and to ask us when we might be interested in joining her for a Bundt-off. The answer, obviously, was "immediately." I think the Bundt party might have to wait for a while, but we kicked around some ideas for various Bundts. Sonya said she was working on a cornmeal Bundt with a butter-molasses filling. She also said that Aaron had been requested to bring along a Tunnel of Fudge Bundt. Me, I am going to bake a Meat Bundt. Like this one:

I will, of course, post lots of photos of the Bundtfest once it actually happens. Maybe this weekend!

Speaking of weekend, see Sonya's blog for news of the Light Russian. Earlier that evening, though, we had an even better idea: order food from Royal Palace and bring it into the Firehouse! It is great that the Firehouse has free cheese on Fridays, but sometimes you need a little more than Morbier. The bad thing was that our water beef sauce kind of leaked all over the Firehouse floor... which is probably why bars don't look favorably on people bringing food in. But we cleaned it up with lots of napkins. I hope we're not banned forever.

Other than that, this weekend we went over to Michele and Burke's to watch a movie called "La Haine" and eat aebleskiver and Princess cake; gnawed on some very chewy bagels and very buttery cream cheese -- imported from New York! -- at Labyrinth's Art and Architecture book sale, and sat around and watched the Olympics. Then, at 11:00 last night, I went into some strange "must provide sustenance for my family" frenzy and prepared food for us to eat for the entire week. I put some tuna steaks in to marinate, made a blood-orange olive oil cake, simmered a quart of tomato sauce, and packed some curried parsnip soup into individual lunch-sized containers. Then I washed all the dishes and ran a load of laundry. I drank the Kool-Aid and joined the Cult of Domesticity. Oh yeah. This is what 30 looks like, baby.

Biscuit City

2006-02-23T11:59:00.000-05:00

Too bad we didn't take the long weekend (ha! as if!) to make a trip across the pond. Evidently yesterday was the Grand Eating of the Biscuit City constructed at Selfridges in London. Can you imagine:

Photos by the lovely folks at Nicecupofteaandasitdown.