That’s right, fellas. It’s my mom’s corned beef and cabbage.
And it’s in a stromboli!
You’ve got to trust me when I say if you make this stromboli, you will never look at corned beef and cabbage the same way again. It is ridiculously easy to make, and it is the most wonderful combination. The secret is slowly simmering the cabbage in butter at a low heat, as opposed to just boiling it. That, and of course rolling the ingredients in deliciously fresh dough, which melds the flavors and creates a gooey, comforting, slightly salty and savory ode to Ireland and Italy together!
I realize we are a holiday behind on this here blog (Happy Easter!), but I must insist that this stromboli can and should be eaten and enjoyed throughout the year. Trust me on this.
Mom’s Corned Beef and Cabbage Stromboli:
Yields three stromboli loaves (they freeze very well)
3 lb. Corned Beef Brisket, flat cut
1 head of cabbage
Pizza dough (we used 3 Trader Joe’s pizza dough balls, in traditional white)
4 tablespoons butter
1 egg white
1 teaspoon poppy seeds
1 teaspoon roasted garlic
½ teaspoon sea salt
Boil the brisket in a large pot of water, making sure to keep the pot full (this helps rid the brisket of unnecessary salt content). For a tender brisket, boil around 3 hours. (It is normal for the brisket to reduce in size over this time period).
Thinly shred 1 head of cabbage. A mandolin is preferable, but you can also use a chopping knife. You’ll find that one head yields a whole lotta cabbage—we needed two pans to cook it all. Here’s a picture of one of the pans, after the cabbage has been simmering for about 30 minutes. Take care to use low, low heat, so that the cabbage doesn’t brown, it just glistens and softens (we used about 2 tablespoons of butter for each pan, and a little salt and pepper to taste).
When your brisket is tender, slice it thinly (removing any of the gristle), cutting against the grain. Place it on a rolled out Trader Joe’s pizza dough.
Put about 1 cup of cooked cabbage over the brisket.
Roll the dough into a stromboli (Never mind those cheese shreddings you see in the photo—we added it to one of our loaves, but it didn’t really add to the taste).
Fold in the ends, so it looks like so:
Place the stromboli on a baking sheet (we lined ours with cornmeal—flour works well, too) so that the folds are on the bottom of the sheet (this prevents the dough from opening in the oven). Cut a few openings up top too, so your stromboli doesn’t explode while it is baking.
Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit, and repeat the steps above to make two more loaves.
Next, whisk an egg white in a small bowl. In a separate bowl, combine the poppy seeds, garlic and sea salt.
Brush all three loaves with egg wash (the loaf below looks different and slightly specked, because we were experimenting with a garlic-herb dough):
Sprinkle on the poppy seed mixture.
Place the loaves in oven for roughly 30 minutes.
And my, my—just look at what you’ve created! Here’s a picture of two of our finished loaves. The one on the right was for my uncle. His job does random drug screenings and he wasn’t taking any chances with those poppy seeds, so we left them off of his.
Slice open, and serve with mustard.
Enjoy! All year round.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Hudson Valley Restaurant Week 2009: A Shift
Somewhere along the line, an attitude-shift has occurred in many of the restaurants participating in Hudson Valley Restaurant Week. What used to be considered one of the best deals in town, a diner’s golden opportunity to enjoy three-course exquisite cuisine for the fixed price of $28.09 ($20.09 for lunch), seems more and more like a time for restaurants to treat diners like second-class citizens, tacking on “Restaurant Week-only” gratuity charges and parking fees. Some restaurants now serve only one “choice?”/ “option?” for appetizers and dessert during this “special” time, and entrees are usually no more adventurous than chicken, pork or fish. [And speaking of fish, what’s with all the skate? I went from hearing about this fish maybe once or twice before in my life, to seeing it on every menu across the Hudson Valley. Did a skate boat pull up to our docks and toss the motherlode of skate off its side?]
I don’t recall Restaurant Week being this way in the past. I thought restaurants viewed this week (two weeks, actually, with talk of it being extended) as an opportunity—not necessarily to make a buck, but to entice diners: chefs brought out the big guns, serving mouth-watering, inventive cooking, hoping to garner repeat customers and become that “Let’s go out, someplace nice!” destination. Did it matter if a restaurant broke even at the end of the week, or even lost money for lowering its prices if it stood to gain amazing word-of-mouth?
Maybe it does. Granted, I only visited two restaurants (Equus and 42) this year, due to unfavorable reports from friends and family (who were underwhelmed by normally reliable restaurants like Harvest on Hudson and Crabtree’s Kittle House); but Equus and 42 not only disappointed, none of the six diners who accompanied me to these restaurants said they would return. The reason? They didn’t think they got their money’s worth.
Take Equus, in Tarrytown, for instance. The food there was actually good. There were three choices for each course, and the selection—albeit a tad unadventurous—was decent.
First up was a Crispy Four Brother’s Farm Feta Cheese with olive, tomato and fennel salad:
A very good start. The cheese was warm and slightly melted on the inside, lightly crisped on the outside. The sharp taste combined with a melting texture was comforting. Fennel was a little dry, and sliced too thick for my taste, but that was a minor issue.
Next was the ever-popular Atlantic Skate with Sauteed Spinach and Spicy Mussel Sauce:
Skate can be cooked at high temperatures, which allows for a nice crispiness—that is exactly what was achieved on my plate. The inside was tender, moist and flaky, and the outside retained its crispiness even floating in the mussel sauce (also very good and garlicky).
Finally, there was the Rain beau Ridge Chevre with Honey poached cranberries on walnut shortbread.
Not really my thing, but I appreciate how well the cranberries paired with the goat cheese. My friend’s mango crème brulee, on the other hand, was one of the finest I’ve tasted—rich, creamy, the tiniest pieces of mango adding little spots of sweetness.
You’re probably thinking, “Well, what’s the problem? That looks like an absolutely lovely meal for $28.09!”
Here’s my problem: Equus institutes a $5 parking fee per car (only during Restaurant Week!), plus a gratuity charge. When I pulled up to the Castle, an attendant promptly handed me a ticket and declared “Five dollars.” Confused, I asked if I paid now or later. “Either one,” he shrugged. I paid then.
When our party of four received the bill, my eyes bulged. Not only had each of our cars been charged on the bill (for a total of $20), it had been taxed. A 21 percent gratuity had also been added, the parking fee factored into that 21 percent.
When I called over a server to explain the fee, he took my $5 parking off right away, but put up a little fight over the gratuity charge. “It’s mandatory during restaurant week,” he explained.
“I thought it was only for parties six or more,” I said. “It’s what was printed online!”
He shook his head and went to rustle up a menu as “proof.” In the meantime, my friend Tia searched her purse for a copy of the online menu, which she had been carrying with her all day (I’m still not sure why). When our server returned triumphantly with a menu that indeed said all parties would be charged 21 percent, we showed him what had been printed online. He frowned and began to offer up an explanation, then thought better of it, and finally agreed to honor our printed menu. (Equus has since updated their Restaurant Week online menu to reflect the 21 percent gratuity for any-size part.
Coffee and tea were ordered but never delivered, and the parking tickets, which were inexplicably collected by our server during dinner, never returned.
“This castle is confusing,” me friend mumbled, as she followed a parking attendant down the driveway to identify her keychain, the only way to lay claim to her car.
Bottom line? Even if the food is good (it was!), when diners get the sense that a restaurant is trying to raise its prices merely because volume is heavier, people are going to get pissed off.
42
“It’s different up here,” is the promise of 42, Chef Anthony Goncalves’ shining new restaurant on the top floor of the Ritz Carlton in White Plains.
A glaring difference was 42’s decision to offer only one appetizer and dessert for Restaurant Week. “Bummer,” I thought.
For appetizers on Friday, we had four identical bowls of Potato Leek Soup:
This was nice. I especially liked the finish of extra virgin olive oil.
For entrees, none of us wanted chicken or pork, so guess what all four of us had? More Skate with brown butter and capers!
I didn’t get this dish, especially the olive-sized capers, which were a salty, vinegary, briny disaster if eaten whole. My friend told me to cut them into little pieces, but why didn’t we just have the regular, high quality, small capers? Was serving large capers purely for presentation? The fish had a nice crisp like Equus, but unlike Equus, it didn’t immediately fall apart—I needed a knife to cut pieces that had gotten a bit rubbery. The flavor? There was certainly a saltiness from the capers, but not much else.
No one enjoyed dessert, a Chocolate Orange Coupe: Chocolate Mousse, Burnt Orange Reduction, Orange Curd, Blood Orange Pâté de Fruits:
Essentially, this was chocolate pudding, with orange (tasted like orange marmalade, which, in all fairness, is one of my least favorite things), not a welcome combination for anyone at the table. “Why am I eating this?” my friend asked. After three bites, she put her spoon down for good.
“Let’s get Carvel!”
We did.
Some high points: efficient service, stunning view (on a clear day, you can see Manhattan), comfortable dining area, and our table was not rushed at all. We arrived at 6:00 p.m. and lingered well after 9:00 p.m. —I believe we even had to ask for our check. Also, we did receive a mussel ceviche amuse bouche, the first amuse bouche I’ve ever received during Restaurant Week in Westchester.
A 20 percent gratuity was added to our bill, but we didn’t mind this addition nearly as much as Equus, as only the food and beverages were factored into the gratuity, and it’s what we would’ve paid anyway.
Bottom line? I’ve had glorious meals at Chef Goncalves’ old restaurant, Trotters (now the also enjoyable Peniche), where I witnessed a chef so passionate about his cooking, that the top of the Ritz Carlton seemed a natural evolution. Maybe it still is, because that Restaurant Week Menu certainly didn’t reflect Goncalves’ true ability as a chef. But will I be back to see what he’s really doing up there?
First, I have to get rid of the bad taste that Restaurant Week has left in my mouth.
For further coverage on Restaurant Week, check out Liz Johnson’s Lower Hudson Valley blog Small Bites.
Also check out the discussion on Chowhound.
Equus, Castle on the Hudson
400 Benedict Avenue
Tarrytown, NY 10591
914 631-3646
42
1 Renaissance Square
White Plains, NY 10601
(914) 761-4242
Hudson Valley Restaurant Week
I don’t recall Restaurant Week being this way in the past. I thought restaurants viewed this week (two weeks, actually, with talk of it being extended) as an opportunity—not necessarily to make a buck, but to entice diners: chefs brought out the big guns, serving mouth-watering, inventive cooking, hoping to garner repeat customers and become that “Let’s go out, someplace nice!” destination. Did it matter if a restaurant broke even at the end of the week, or even lost money for lowering its prices if it stood to gain amazing word-of-mouth?
Maybe it does. Granted, I only visited two restaurants (Equus and 42) this year, due to unfavorable reports from friends and family (who were underwhelmed by normally reliable restaurants like Harvest on Hudson and Crabtree’s Kittle House); but Equus and 42 not only disappointed, none of the six diners who accompanied me to these restaurants said they would return. The reason? They didn’t think they got their money’s worth.
Take Equus, in Tarrytown, for instance. The food there was actually good. There were three choices for each course, and the selection—albeit a tad unadventurous—was decent.
First up was a Crispy Four Brother’s Farm Feta Cheese with olive, tomato and fennel salad:
Next was the ever-popular Atlantic Skate with Sauteed Spinach and Spicy Mussel Sauce:
Finally, there was the Rain beau Ridge Chevre with Honey poached cranberries on walnut shortbread.
You’re probably thinking, “Well, what’s the problem? That looks like an absolutely lovely meal for $28.09!”
Here’s my problem: Equus institutes a $5 parking fee per car (only during Restaurant Week!), plus a gratuity charge. When I pulled up to the Castle, an attendant promptly handed me a ticket and declared “Five dollars.” Confused, I asked if I paid now or later. “Either one,” he shrugged. I paid then.
When our party of four received the bill, my eyes bulged. Not only had each of our cars been charged on the bill (for a total of $20), it had been taxed. A 21 percent gratuity had also been added, the parking fee factored into that 21 percent.
When I called over a server to explain the fee, he took my $5 parking off right away, but put up a little fight over the gratuity charge. “It’s mandatory during restaurant week,” he explained.
“I thought it was only for parties six or more,” I said. “It’s what was printed online!”
He shook his head and went to rustle up a menu as “proof.” In the meantime, my friend Tia searched her purse for a copy of the online menu, which she had been carrying with her all day (I’m still not sure why). When our server returned triumphantly with a menu that indeed said all parties would be charged 21 percent, we showed him what had been printed online. He frowned and began to offer up an explanation, then thought better of it, and finally agreed to honor our printed menu. (Equus has since updated their Restaurant Week online menu to reflect the 21 percent gratuity for any-size part.
Coffee and tea were ordered but never delivered, and the parking tickets, which were inexplicably collected by our server during dinner, never returned.
“This castle is confusing,” me friend mumbled, as she followed a parking attendant down the driveway to identify her keychain, the only way to lay claim to her car.
Bottom line? Even if the food is good (it was!), when diners get the sense that a restaurant is trying to raise its prices merely because volume is heavier, people are going to get pissed off.
42
“It’s different up here,” is the promise of 42, Chef Anthony Goncalves’ shining new restaurant on the top floor of the Ritz Carlton in White Plains.
A glaring difference was 42’s decision to offer only one appetizer and dessert for Restaurant Week. “Bummer,” I thought.
For appetizers on Friday, we had four identical bowls of Potato Leek Soup:
For entrees, none of us wanted chicken or pork, so guess what all four of us had? More Skate with brown butter and capers!
No one enjoyed dessert, a Chocolate Orange Coupe: Chocolate Mousse, Burnt Orange Reduction, Orange Curd, Blood Orange Pâté de Fruits:
“Let’s get Carvel!”
We did.
Some high points: efficient service, stunning view (on a clear day, you can see Manhattan), comfortable dining area, and our table was not rushed at all. We arrived at 6:00 p.m. and lingered well after 9:00 p.m. —I believe we even had to ask for our check. Also, we did receive a mussel ceviche amuse bouche, the first amuse bouche I’ve ever received during Restaurant Week in Westchester.
Bottom line? I’ve had glorious meals at Chef Goncalves’ old restaurant, Trotters (now the also enjoyable Peniche), where I witnessed a chef so passionate about his cooking, that the top of the Ritz Carlton seemed a natural evolution. Maybe it still is, because that Restaurant Week Menu certainly didn’t reflect Goncalves’ true ability as a chef. But will I be back to see what he’s really doing up there?
First, I have to get rid of the bad taste that Restaurant Week has left in my mouth.
For further coverage on Restaurant Week, check out Liz Johnson’s Lower Hudson Valley blog Small Bites.
Also check out the discussion on Chowhound.
Equus, Castle on the Hudson
400 Benedict Avenue
Tarrytown, NY 10591
914 631-3646
42
1 Renaissance Square
White Plains, NY 10601
(914) 761-4242
Hudson Valley Restaurant Week
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