The Good Life

Where'd I Go?

2011-06-27T16:45:00.003-04:00

The better question would be, “Where’d I grow?”

The answer would be: everywhere.

No stranger to “All or nothing,” I have gained a solid 15 lbs. over two years with the help of this blog. It’d been like repeating freshman year of college: twice.

I’m 5’ 4”, and I’ve reached 137 pounds at my heaviest. You might’ve guessed it from some of the entries below, but last year I started running to get the weight under control. Well, who would’ve thought it, but I actually began to enjoy the exercise, as well as the races that accompanied it. My latest endeavor has been kickboxing.

While I’ve cut back on dining out considerably, I still love food, and have been trying to trim my waistline without too much dieting (I indulge regularly in samosa chat and potato kati rolls from Ambadi in White Plains).

I do plan on continuing with this blog, so please check back occasionally, but if you are interested in what I’ve become most passionate about, please visit my latest endeavor. It’s a 180 degree turn for sure!

Fatty Crab

2010-11-28T23:07:00.012-05:00

My mom and I were in Manhattan last weekend. Originally, we had tickets to see that Spider-Man musical, but the opening was delayed because Spider-Man flew into a wall or something. So instead, we had a leisurely stroll around Manhattan. Stops for the day included: the New York Public Library, Bryant Park to see the ice skaters, and the highly anticipated high-end Italian market Eataly in the hopes of sampling something delicious (note to self: in the future visit Eataly on a weekday, say early a.m., if you don’t want to get trampled by others hoping to sample something delicious—we were in and out of there in less than a half hour due to the crowd).

Around 3 p.m., after a brisk stroll along the High Line, stomachs growling due to the mob scene at Eataly, we walked the few short blocks east to Hudson Street, thinking it was finally an opportune time to visit the tiny, no reservations Malaysian hipster hotspot, Fatty Crab.

We had a good feeling about this Fatty Crab almost immediately. Upon entering, we received a warm welcome from a smiling, unassuming waiter. The restaurant is tiny, the very definition of “hole in the wall.” A corner bar is manned by a hippy-version of Ryan Renolds, with a small kitchen window to his right. Bright red walls, exposed brick, a tin ceiling, and worn wooden floors give off an aura of “I’m-not-trying-too-hard-despite-my-reputation-of-Awesome.”

Given the few patrons at 3 p.m., we were seated right by the front window, a Fatty Crab delivery bicycle parked outside.

We started with Steamed Pork Buns ($13):
I think the picture says it all.

Well, NOW the picture says it all:
I am a SUCKER for a soft, squishy steamed bun, and these buns delivered. Piping hot, soft as clouds, the perfect conduit for succulent pork belly. It’s served with a hard-boiled egg, pickled radish, and a tangy-yet-somewhat spicy dipping sauce.

Here is the Watermelon and Crispy Pork ($16):
At the time, I think my mom and I were under the impression we were ordering an entrée, but now I think this dish fell under Appetizers with our pork buns. Which makes sense, given our waiter brought this out after the buns, but before our entrée. A small matter. The lesson learned was simple: Crispy pork belly and watermelon is the Future. Who knew these two could be such a duo? The pork crunches satisfyingly before melting on the tongue, the watermelon gives a burst of refreshing sweetness. A glorious dish, albeit a small one.

Sadly, this is when we should’ve left Fatty Crab (ie: on top).

Take a good, hard look at the Nasi Lemak ($21), aka, the worst dish I’ve had in years.
Nasi Lemak is described on the menu as “coconut rice, chicken curry, slow poached egg.” On the left are two pieces of fried chicken, a wing and a leg. It was not remarkable fried chicken, but it did taste like fried chicken in its defense (wasn’t it supposed to be curry, though?). There were also some spiced peanuts buried underneath the chicken that were tasty. The shimmering poached egg on the coconut rice wasn’t terrible; the egg, coupled with the creaminess of coconut, just ended up being too creamy and rich. Not a pleasant combination, especially paired with the stuff in the middle, which is what we really took issue with: a fish cake in banana leaves that was extremely fishy-smelling and off-putting. What type of fish was it? I think the waiter said it was a “combination of leftovers” which should’ve been our first clue something was up, but he also went on to say it was made “fresh” daily. There was a little pile of dried anchovies that were fun, but next to it, a dark pile of sambal belacan—chilies, shrimp paste, sugar and lime juice—that was beyond fishy. It smelled off; I tasted it anyway, but it tasted like it smelled. Nasi Lemak: FAIL. Keep in mind: this was my first Malaysian meal. I’m merely telling you my personal feelings on Nasi Lemak (in essence: I was horrified).

The staff, initially on their best behavior, were now acting kind of erratic, as well. What started out as a warm, welcoming feel, was quickly dissolving into the weird and eccentric. Our waiter was conversing loudly with diners behind us, the word “porn” coming up over and over.

We were still somewhat scarred by the Nasi Lemak when our waiter arrived with our bill. There was no offering of a dessert menu (maybe he sensed the last dish didn’t go over well), but he did leave us with two slices of coconut-flavored mochi. They had an unexpected, slightly salty aftertaste, which was wonderful paired with the sweetness of the rice cakes. This lifted our spirits.

I’m left slightly mystified by Fatty Crab. How could a restaurant that served two exceptional, knock-your-socks-off dishes, send out such a BOMB? And what of the vibe? Is it warm or wacky?

Jury’s out.

Fatty Crab
643 Hudson St
New York, NY 10014
(212) 352-3590

Silver Tips Tea Room

2010-11-04T20:51:00.009-04:00

Well hello! It’s been a long time. I completed the two 5ks mentioned below. I’m decidedly the world’s worst runner, but I did complete them, and in my book, that warrants giving myself a good old pat on the back for actually seeing something through. And the more I think about it, the more I wager I may stick with this running thing. I have my eye on the Leatherman’s Loop this coming May. We’ll see how I fare with training this winter, before I make any type of commitment. But back to the food, which is what we really care about.

A few Sundays ago, I had my first “High Tea” with some very lovely ladies. To quote Ferris Bueller, “It is so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend it.” Luckily, “the means” in this particular instance is quite reasonable. Silver Tips is a charming little establishment tucked in the heart of Tarrytown. Local artists’ work adorns the walls, knick-knacks and bric-a-brac align rustic shelves, and lively chatter resounds from the tables. It’s quaint without being overly frou-frou or feminine. Guys go there too (I’ll tell you why in a moment). The tea? Pages and pages worth, delivered hot to your table and kept warm via uniquely designed tea cozies:
What do I know about tea? Not a whole lot. I suppose I like it. I steep my own Japanese Genmaicha tea at home and also enjoy Barley tea from time to time. I’m a sucker for English Breakfast with a little milk and sugar. That’s the extent of my knowledge on tea.

The ladies I high tea’d with? They take their tea to another level, and had some great recommendations for the table. The Silver Tips ladies? Just visit their web site: you can learn all you ever wanted to know about tea.

Truth be told, I didn’t take to the blog to mention the tea. I’m here to clue you in to the other teahouse treasures, which is why guys find their way into this teahouse as well. Silver Tips has killer sandwiches. They’re still somewhat small for a dude (but way bigger than those mini cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off) and I suppose the presentation of the toasted sandwiches could cause a guy to squirm, but they’re so. unbelievably. yummy. [Note: Silver Tips also has larger, non-gussied-up sandwich wraps, served with nachos and salsa, as well as soups, salads and samosas that would make men a lot less uncomfortable than the route we went]. For $21, there is “Tea Deluxe”: two sandwiches of your choice, a scone with cream and preserves, one dessert (a variety of tarts and pastries), and two two-cup pots of tea, or one four-cup pot of tea. We ordered two “Tea Deluxes,” for our table of four. Ch-ch- check it out:
The Egg Souchong sandwich? Marinated in smoked tea, then combined with seasoning and chives. Pshhhh, only the best egg sandwich ever. My buddy Danielle and I both really wanted the smoked salmon sandwich, which wasn’t one of the standard selections for “Tea Deluxe” so we asked our waitress to “upgrade” our second choice to the salmon for a dollar more. She thought that was funny, and even funnier when our friends “upgraded” as well.
The scone? Absolutely delightful. We went with the raisin, but it’s also available in cranberry and blueberry. Paired with the cream, it was heavenly.

I’m a sucker for fruit tarts, so Danielle and I chose the peach tart. It was good, but a little heavy on the crust and not enough actual fruit. The mixed berry tart crust was a more condensed and the fruit extra flavorful.

Oh, and the tea? ...It was yummy! But I don’t even remember what we ordered! Hey Lori, wanna leave a comment about the tea below? For the tea lovers?

In closing, Silver Tips is serving up a lot more than just apparently awesome tea. They’ve got some real treasures on their menu, and a cozy, delightful setting to enjoy it. They’ve got a good sense of humor over there, too. Our server took a picture of the four of us at the end of our meal and said, “One, two… teabags!”

It’s good to be back!

Silver Tips Tea Room
3 North Broadway
Tarrytown, NY 10591
(914) 332-8515

Shifting Priorities

2010-08-19T19:39:00.005-04:00

Yep, I’m still writing. When I go out to eat, I still blog about it. What’s changed? I haven’t really been going out to eat lately. When I began this blog early last year, it was a fun way to share and re-live some of my more memorable dining experiences. I was Top Chef-crazed, waist-deep in Anthony Bourdain and Michael Ruhlman books, and I couldn’t get enough of the scene. Then shortly after New Year’s, I did something that was either really, really wise, or really, really stupid: I totaled up all I had spent in 2009 on dining.

It was a lot.

My brother lectured me on the importance of maximizing my Roth every year (“My what?” was my adept reply). A buddy pestered me to accompany her on a two-week adventure to Egypt; I told her she was nuts—that would cost, like, an eighth of what I spent on food the year before. My scale was either broken, or my detergent was shrinking my clothes. My apartment was… not a 32-year-old’s apartment. In short, I needed to re-focus my spending, and find a cheaper hobby.

The past few months, I’ve been on lock-down with my funds. While being thrifty doesn’t necessarily mean food has to be boring, that’s exactly what it’s become to me. Not because I don’t still love food, but mostly because of my new time sink: preparing for two 5ks. And while food and 5ks do go together, they don’t in the way I was hoping they would. Minutes into Day One of training, the Mexican burrito that was so delicious for lunch was not nearly as delightful sloshing in my stomach at the track. Turkey, eggs, tuna, fruits, veggies, and whole grains (boiled, steamed, baked or raw) have become my friends simply because they seem to stay down well. And give me more energy for suicides, push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, throw-ups, running, sweating, stretching, icing, cursing, cheering, collapsing.

In some ways, my food is not nearly as exciting now, and certainly doesn’t warrant a blog entry; in other ways, I’m so much hungrier lately, I don’t know if I’ve ever appreciated or looked forward to my meals more. It’s been an eye-opener in terms of how and why I eat.

So where does that leave this blog?

I promise I won’t go all Running Blog on you (I would never forgive me either, but I will take this moment to thank Westchester Road Runner for finding me a sneaker that doesn’t make my shins scream). Instead, expect more infrequent entries. When I’ve got noteworthy, exciting food to write about, I’ll post. Two in the pipeline: Zarela and Indochine.

In the meantime, wish me luck with my races! I’ll need it and appreciate the support.

Colicchio & Sons

2010-07-11T01:19:00.023-04:00

Spoiler alert [except not really at all]: I’m a wee bit of a fan of James Beard Outstanding Chef winner/Top Chef host/restauranteur extraordinaire/hero/humanitarian/guitarist/fly fisher/one of People’s sexiest men alive in 2008/etc./etc. Tom Colicchio. That’s right: no matter what hat you throw on top of this man, you’ll still find Chef Tommy keeping it real under there. Whether he’s banging out world-class dishes in his deceptively straightforward style, or shooting the breeze with none other than yours truly—there is an aura of real-ness to Colicchio, peppered with drive and integrity, that makes it next to impossible to remain uninspired in his presence. Would-be “Top Chefs” strive for greatness on his show; readers of his cookbook learn the principles behind great cooking so as not to be chained to recipes—to instead Think Like a Chef; and people who learn his life story realize that sometimes, when you work crazy hard, doing what you love actually pays off.

So there was a dance, some hugs, and multiple wardrobe changes when I learned good pal Eileen was taking me to the Meatpacking District for a birthday dinner at Colicchio’s newest digs Colicchio & Sons (taking the place of closed Craftsteak).

I’ve said this about Craft; I’ve certainly said it about Tom: Tuesday Dinner (still the most memorable dining experience of my life); and now, I can say the same for Colicchio & Sons: these restaurants are so. effing. magnificent. And comfortable. And made for dudes. (Sure, they appeal to women—but Colicchio’s already got that demographic covered.) Inside, the music is bluesy, soulful; the décor exudes strength and warmth; the staff is approachable and on-point with absolutely zero airs; and the food: oh lawdy, the food. In the age of foams, deconstructions, and molecular gastronomy, this food resembles food, yet still shines for its flair, boldness and ingenuity. And it tastes like food (albeit the best food you’ve ever eaten). Men needn’t worry about leaving hungry. Or getting busted by the fork police for using the wrong fork. There are no fork police.

When Eileen and I arrived on a Thursday evening, taking in scenic views from the High Line beforehand (Colicchio & Sons is mere steps away), we were among the first in the dining room (there is a more casual “tap room” in front; the two rooms are divided by a floor-to-ceiling wine vault). When we left, many hours later, the restaurant was in full swing with not a seat to spare, yet in no way did we feel rushed during our meal. The dinner was thoughtfully timed; our servers were friendly and attentive without being bothersome. In short: perfect atmostphere/setting.

Take a look at our rolls:
This is the kind of bread you just want to take in your fist and squeeze because it looks so soft and pleasant. The only thing that outweighed the urge to squeeze it was to eat it... which Eileen and I did immediately. Another black skillet thoughtfully appeared moments later containing six more shimmering rolls, coarse salt sprinkled on top. We purposefully held back, knowing what was to come. Wonderful, wonderful bread, though.

Here’s our amuse-bouche:
God knows what this was. My bad. I waited three months to write this entry up. Lobster on a spicy cracker with …apples(?) that went with it perfectly. And tasted very fresh.

For appetizers, the Carolina Soft Shell Crab with ramps and pancetta ($22) was a no-brainer:
This was the first time I’ve had soft shell crab that wasn’t deep-fried. It was bloody sensational. The outer shell had just a bit of firmness to it, the nuggets inside contained fresh, juicy, tender explosions of the sea, tempered nicely by the pungent flavor of the ramps.

Over on Eileen’s plate, was Ricotta Ravioli with morels, fava beans, and ramps (ramps, ramps, ramps! Chefs can’t get enough of ’em when they’re in season.) ($19)
Eileen quite enjoyed this. Even though the ravioli were cooked al dente, the ricotta filling made the ravioli as a whole taste light and pillowy. Another winner.

For dinner, I was talked into the Farm Chicken “Pot Au Feu” with Crispy Skin, Spring Vegetables and …Ramp Broth ($34)
I had reservations about coming all the way to Colicchio & Sons and ordering something as ordinary as chicken, but the server assured me the dish was actually quite “exciting.” It was prepared sous-vide (a technique where food is placed in airtight plastic bags and submerged underwater, then cooked at an exact temperature to ensure the end result is exactly what is intended); and the skin was fashioned into a crispy chip. “What about the ramps?” I asked. “Is this turning into ramp overload?” No, the ramp broth merely accentuated the vegetables, giving everything a slight kick. The broth was light, the chicken was impossibly tender and juicy. It was like springtime stew; the ultimate in comfort food. The dish wasn’t in-your-face bold, instead, the flavors had been gently coaxed out, so that they crept up on you, and remained clear in your mind many days/weeks/months later. Best dish of the night.

Eileen ordered the Roasted Sirloin with Piperade and Roasted Ramps ($42):
This is the closest we came to any sort of misstep. While tasty, this dish could’ve used some sort of carb. There was a lot of meat, and a lot of peppers (and ramps!). Eileen was really craving something else to balance it out. Something crunchy, something potato-y perhaps. She was a little disappointed.

Both of our desserts were excellent. I’d order either of them again.

Here’s mine, the Banana Pecan Upside-Down, with rum caramel, banana sorbet, and malted milk ice cream ($12)

And Eileen’s: the Warm Chocolate Tart with Hazelnut Semifreddo and Espresso ice cream ($12):
Some really hot-looking mignardises followed. I think it was a wine gelee, but again, I don’t remember.
A pleasant ping! to the end of the evening.

On our way out, the hostess gave us complimentary corn muffins for breakfast the next morning, a nice touch, which immediately called to mind the thoughtfulness I experienced at Craft.

All in all, a great experience. Thank you, Tom Colicchio, for making dining at your restaurants such memorable, fabulous occasions.

(And thank you, Eileen, for such a generous birthday present. Dinner is always a blast when you have such great company.)

Colicchio & Sons
85 10th Avenue
New York, NY 10011
(212) 400-6699

Taking a Short Break

2010-05-04T20:57:00.001-04:00

Well duh. I suppose you figured that out already.

No biggee, just a little overwhelmed at work, and not a whole lot of time for dining out.

Looking forward to posting in the very near future.

In the meantime, might I recommend a fabulous, insightful new blog by an old high school friend of mine.

And congratulations Tom Colicchio, James Beard Winner for Most Outstanding Chef in America.

Dinner Tonight: Flank Steak Pinwheels

2010-04-11T20:03:00.015-04:00

Normally, you stuff anything and people assume you were in the kitchen for at least two hours. That’s just not the case with the above picture (a little Flank Steak Pinwheel action), which makes said picture the perfect fancy-pants dish to serve at your next shindig. People see the circular pattern and automatically assume you spent the whole day calculating recipes in the halls of MIT, simultaneously demonstrating that the Belousov-Zhabotinsky reaction does not just take place in a solution, but also in multi-phase systems (… and in nanoparticle self-organization of course).

Bottom line: this dish is oh-so-easy, and very, very tasty.

Here is the flank steak:
Butterfly the steak along the grain (to essentially get a thinner, larger flank steak), and then pound it to tenderize. Brush flattened steak with a mixture of minced garlic, parsley, sage, rosemary, and olive oil.
Lay slices of prosciutto on top.
Lay slices of provolone on top, then wrap.
Secure it with twine...
... and then skewers.
Slice, then season with salt and pepper.
GRILL!!!
Enjoy with some grilled veggies:

Iron Horse Grill: HV Restaurant Week 2010

2010-03-29T21:45:00.015-04:00

A man walks into a restaurant and orders Arctic Char (stop me if you’ve heard this one).

Arctic Char arrives.

Man looks at it, a confused expression on his face. Then..

“What part of this is ‘char’?”

“You didn’t know you were ordering fish?” Dining Companion #1 asks, surprised.

Man looks slightly embarrassed. “I dunno; the ‘char’ threw me off. I thought it would be meat.” Then, more under his breath: “[Bleeping] fish.”

“Fair enough,” says Dining Companion #1. “But what part of ‘Artic’ made you think you were going to get a steak? What were you hoping for? Polar Bear?”

“Polar bear is endangered,” says Dining Companion #2.

Meal commences.

That’s pretty much how our dinner went down at Iron Horse Grill in Pleasantville on Friday evening. My feisty dinner companions for the evening were: Todd (aka “Man”), Bill (aka “Dining Companion #1), Lori (aka Dining Companion #2), and Dad and myself (the laugh track).

It was our first visit to Iron Horse, and a last-minute Restaurant Week addition. The restaurant has an intimate vibe and a turn of the century feel, a place where you’d expect to see a man holding his monocle saying, “Quite right, quite right” to no one in particular. Making the rounds that evening was head chef and owner Philip McGrath, seating guests, jotting down orders, and even hanging coats. He exuded confidence, ease and friendliness, and made our party feel comfortable and special simultaneously.

Our meal, while perfectly decent, didn’t do justice to the restaurant’s reputation, which is extremely well-regarded. We chalked it up to Hudson Valley Restaurant Week syndrome, a disorder I experienced in abundance last year, but which I was hoping to cheat this time around after a solid, near perfect, first start. Sadly, Iron Horse didn’t deliver the night of our visit, but a few parts of our meal hinted at the greatness that may exist the rest of the year.

For appetizers, there was Ricotta Stuffed Rigatoni, with parsley sun-dried tomato pesto and pancetta:
The rigatoni were cooked well, and had an almost doughy quality. My only disappointment was that the sauce seemed a bit common.

Here’s a look at the wild mushroom soup (I forgot to make note of the formal description; something about a cappucino):
This is the dish that hinted at Iron Horse’s potential. There were layers upon layers of flavors and earthiness. Elegant and tasty.

For dinner, there was the aforementioned Star Anise Arctic Char with stir fried edamame and crisp rice noodles:
Once Todd got over the fact that his Char was not a steak, he admitted his dish was seasoned well (the star anise glaze was tangy and syrupy), and the noodles added a delightful crunch to the velvetiness of the fish. I stole a few bites and found it pleasing. It just wasn’t knocking socks off.

Here’s my dish, the Captain Lawrence Glazed Short Rib of Beef, with Saffron-Vegetable Risotto:
I enjoyed the flavors, but this tasted more like a beef stew. A little texture on the plate would’ve gone a long way; everything was so soft. I was also hoping for more innovation and punch. …as well as more food. (The portion was tiny.)

Here’s Bill and Lori’s dish, the Confit of Hudson Valley Duck, with Black Bean Chorizo Cassoulet:
This dish looked amazing, but duck was tough and little bland. The cassoulet had some interesting things going on. (I should mention that Lori liked her dish; and told me I was being a total hard-ass the entire night.)

And dessert. First, the Coconut Sorbet, with Pina Colada Pineapple, Lemon “Langue du Chat”:
This dish should’ve been a homerun for me (I love all the ingredients); yet something about it was overkill. Maybe it was the coconut shavings on top of the sorbet, which added unnecessary texture.

Finally, there was the Grand Marnier tart (again, my apologies: I forgot to jot down the formal description). There was raspberry sauce, and … I do believe, “masticated orange slices?” Is that a real thing? I was half-expecting a plate full of chewed-up oranges.
Regardless, my dad loved this dish. The rest of our table? Meh. I would’ve liked a firmer, thicker crust on the tart, but I preferred it to the coconut sorbet.

All in all, my descriptions may come off as harsh for a restaurant as highly-esteemed as Iron Horse Grill, but they’re accurate for the level of food we sampled that night. A shame, because the soup, the personable service, and the lovely atmosphere hint at so much more. Maybe we’ll try it again soon now that Restaurant Week is over.

Iron Horse Grill
20 Wheeler Avenue
Pleasantville, NY 10570
(914) 741-0717

Harvest on Hudson: HVRW....Fail.

2010-03-28T20:24:00.030-04:00

It’s always stymied me as to why during Restaurant Week, some allegedly “great” restaurants experience such a drop in quality. Many trusted friends and colleagues have deemed Harvest on Hudson—a magnificent-looking Tuscan-style farmhouse with superb views of the River—their favorite restaurant, and have repeatedly sung its praises. Online reviews have been kind. And when I made it known that best bud Danielle and I would be dining there Thursday night as part of Hudson Valley Restaurant Week, the consensus was we were going to have a smashing time, and that the dinner would nothing short of knock us on our asses. But here’s the thing: after our meal last week, Danielle and I checked and we were most definitely not on our asses; instead we were scratching our heads as to whether or not Harvest on Hudson fell under the “great restaurant” category. All we knew for certain was that it did not during Restaurant Week. Not even close.

We had high hopes for the evening. The restaurant, as mentioned above, is very beautiful. The décor is tasteful and elegant without feeling snooty, high ceilings make the rooms feel expansive, and there was some snazzy live blues music for the majority of the night, always a treat. And the menu looked suh-weeeet: seven choices for appetizers, and eight for entrees, all of which sounded mouth-watering. (Dessert was a predetermined trio, but I wasn’t sweating it after the wonderful job La Panetiere had done earlier in the week.)

Then our waiter came along. ...and brought us down faster than Marvin in Hitchhiker’s Guide. (I’m not looking for open-mic night when someone gives me my menu, but I also don’t expect a bump on a log from someone who is in the service industry.)

“That guy was the worst,” whispered Danielle, after Bump left. (And Danielle never says anything negative about anyone.)

Here’s a look at our appetizers, which appeared about three minutes after we had placed our orders.

First, my Crispy Lamb Spring Rolls with Mint Tzatziki Sauce:
These rolls tasted like something I would’ve warmed up from the frozen food aisle. Except drier. And the tzatziki was just ok; it didn’t scream freshness.

Danielle’s Creamy Polenta, with house-made mortadella meatballs and Harvest Tomato Sauce:
“House-made?” Really? These meatballs had no texture and reminded both of us of Chef Boyardee. Same thing for the tomato sauce. Neither of the dishes wowed us with presentation either. They were sloppy, with spatters on the plate, and the mint and Italian parsley thrown in both dishes seemed like afterthoughts. Blah.

A bus-boy collected both plates while Danielle was spooning the last piece of polenta into her mouth.

Seconds later, our dinners appeared. My plate felt lukewarm; Danielle’s was scorching.

Danielle’s Seared Salmon:
I stole a small piece of salmon and pronounced it decent. Not much flavor going on (thinking back, Danielle asked for no citrus butter, so it’s not the restaurant’s fault), but tender and juicy, and I appreciated how the skin had a good crisp. Danielle, however, the salmon expert, said the fish was just “ok.” We had bigger issues with the roasted red peppers, which did not taste fresh at all; instead, we suspected they were packed in water and from a jar. Really disappointing. I cut corners all the time in the kitchen, but even I will roast my own red peppers, because I don’t like the jar taste. The house-made gnocchi was a clever addition, and added a pleasant chewy texture, but they were few and far between.

Here’s my Porcini-Crusted Monkfish with risotto guanciale, shrimp, parsnips, and chianti reduction:
This tasted re-heated as well. I expected more complex, layered flavors from the amazing menu description; instead, this was pretty one-note.

It took about 30 minutes for us to finish both our appetizers and our dinners. We were certain we were being rushed; but then came the wait for dessert.

We sat. And sat some more. Danielle and I didn’t mind, because we can chat until closing time and still have more to say. After about an hour, though, a different server appeared (where was Bump?).

“Can I get you two anything else this evening?” she asked us with a smile, reaching for the bill.

“Just our desserts!” Danielle said brightly, with a dazzling smile of her own.

The server was very apologetic, and our Dessert Trio appeared about a half-hour later.
On the left is a flourless chocolate cake with caramel and chocolate sauce; the top, a tiramisu with coffee anglaise, and in front, the vanilla panna cotta.

None of these were winners. The chocolate cake was dry and pretty much inedible. The panna cotta was pretty good, but I would’ve liked it a bit firmer, and oddly enough, the tiramisu was all right (I don’t really like tiramisu—I think they went easy on the coffee anglaise).

“I’m so disappointed,” said the normally chipper Danielle, moving the chocolate cake around in her plate somewhat pathetically.

I hear ya, buddy.

Here’s our tea.
Cute.

I’m curious how a dinner outside of Restaurant Week at Harvest on Hudson would compare to the train-wreck Danielle and I experienced. Would a new kitchen be at the helm? Would Bump be replaced with Mr. Winning Personality, Smooth Talker Guy? But why the drop in service in the first place? Aren’t restaurants prepared to operate at full capacity?

Harvest on Hudson
1 River Street
Hastings on Hudson, NY 10706
914-478-2800

La Panetière: HV Restaurant Week 2010

2010-03-23T00:24:00.024-04:00

Last Tuesday, I visited La Panetière in Rye to commence Hudson Valley Restaurant Week 2010. I’m just now getting around to blogging about it because I am the worst blogger in the whole world. …Well, I take that back. The worst blogger in the world would blog about a Restaurant Week dinner after Restaurant Week was over. So… I guess that makes me… the penultimate worst blogger. If I am even using the word “penultimate” correctly.

Anyhoooo, I’ve been curious about La Panetière for some time. I drive by it regularly on my way to Playland, the Boardwalk, or the Edith Read Sanctuary, and it’s got a decidedly charming, residential vibe to it—in that old-school Westchester mansion kind of way (don’t let my Tim Burton-esque photo fool you). A friend of mine also told me a few years back that a couple he knew had the most expensive dinner ever there, which piqued my curiosity. (Later on, I found out that it wasn’t because the prices were obscene; it was because Guy ordered a $200 bottle of wine. But the story stayed with me, and made La Panetière seem like one of those “special occasion” places.)

My girls Tia, Erin and Jen and I arrived separately after work, each having our cars valeted at no charge. Inside, a few things struck me. One, the restaurant seemed smaller than I thought it would be. Outside, you have this big old house, but inside, it’s this cozy little dining room that reminded me of a French bed and breakfast. I wondered briefly if the chef and staff lived upstairs. Then I thought it was probably more likely that there were other dining rooms (anyone know?). The website says they have banquet facilities and on-site catering, so that could also solve my mystery. Our particular room was adorable with French Country china, old clocks, and quaint hutches, yet also exuded fine-dining elegance (servers dressed to the nines). All in all, it was a suitable choice for four women looking to enjoy dinner and be pampered (or have afternoon tea! This place would be super awesome for afternoon tea).

A word about service: our group was one of the younger parties of the evening, and all of us were dressed pretty casually. In no way were we made to feel inferior, even when we each ordered tap water at the beginning of the meal (we later ordered wine)—our server didn’t bat an eyelash, and might’ve even said something like “Very good!” This respect and professionalism held true for the entire evening, and went a long way in making us feel comfortable.

Let’s get to the food.

I’m sorry to say I don’t have a picture of the country bread that was continually offered to our table. The outside was this crusty, powdery perfection; the inside was so soft and dense it almost tasted raw—but in the most unbelievably satisfying way. Love a place that knows how to make bread.

For appetizers, Erin, Jen, and myself couldn’t resist ordering the same dish, the Gnocchi Ricotta:
I kind of wish we did resist it, though. This gnochhi wasn’t bad, it just in no way resembled what we were hoping for (dense little dumplings that would sit in our stomachs for weeks). The consistency here reminded us of dry mashed potatoes. We tried to keep an open mind, but all in all, we were disappointed. More sauce would’ve helped. The pancetta was good (it’s pancetta, duh), and the wild mushrooms and onions were well-seasoned, but they were such tiny elements of the plate, they couldn’t save the dish.

Tia ordered the Winter Veloute, a celery root, pear, roasted chestnut, and curry-scented soup:
I took a bite, and was impressed that I had never tasted anything like it before—rich and creamy, yet simultaneously refreshing and zesty. ..But I couldn’t necessarily tell if I liked it. Neither could Tia.

For dinner, Erin and Jen order the Beef Short Ribs:
This was a winner. There was a flavorful potato mousseline, and a crunchy salad of apples and carrot chips, but the showstopper was the beef. The butter at our table put up a better fight with our knives. And the skin had a wonderful char.

Tia got the Braised Duck Leg, served with quinoa, pomegranate, vegetables brunoise, and cranberry sauce.
Tia liked her dish, but I stole a bite and was unimpressed. The duck was cooked very well—moist, yet not greasy at all—but it lacked flavor. Pomegranates and cranberries, although a nice combo, couldn’t save it. And quinoa has to be my least favorite grain.

I ordered the Assorted Seafood Risotto:
Pretty, but the first thing Erin observed was that the broth looked as if it had been sitting under a heat lamp for a while, and the top had solidified. I also thought the scallops tasted undercooked, but the rest of the seafood was prepared well. While the dish had some problems, the flavor ultimately trumped them.

When I found out that there was only one option for dessert, the enigmatically described “Dessert Sampler,” I had a mini-meltdown.

“I know it, guys. I can just feel it in my bones,” I whispered to my girlfriends. “They’re going to bring us a plateful of dry cookies. Like biscotti or something.” (I’m just not a fan of biscotti when I go out to eat. I was preparing myself to feel cheated.)

“Biscotti doesn’t sound very French,” Tia murmured.

This is what was set before us instead:
OH, how I loved these little desserts! The presentation was obviously pretty, but that little lemon tart on the right was pure perfection. (The chocolate espresso cake was fine, but I would’ve gladly traded it in for more lemon tart.) And the lemon sorbet: grainy, refreshing, lip-puckeringly sour—my friends found it almost too sour... but my friends are fools!—this sorbet packed a punch in the best way possible.

If you go by some of my food descriptors above, you might have second thoughts about trying La Panetière for Restaurant Week. But there were two clear winners on the menu: the short ribs and the dessert tray. Service was top-notch, and the dining room was very pleasant. There are reasons to visit, and for $28, now is the time. Can’t say how happy I would’ve been if I had paid regular price for the gnocchi, the soup, or the duck, but all in all, I think there are interesting things happening on the menu. And hey, now you can avoid those dishes!

La Panetière
530 Milton Road
Rye, NY 10580-3304
(914) 967-8140

X20: Xaviars on the Hudson: HV Restaurant Week

2010-03-21T18:28:00.021-04:00

Phewwwww!

That was me, Sharon, letting out a sigh of relief. See, this entry, in addition to being published at The Good Life, is also being published at Liz Johnson’s Small Bites site for special Hudson Valley Restaurant Week coverage. I volunteered a couple of weeks ago to write about my experience at Peter Kelly’s X20: Xaviar’s on the Hudson and boldly declared, ‘Let the chips fall where they may,’ and ‘Who cares if Peter Kelly is a superstar chef who pals around with Bill Murray, slays Bobby Flay on Iron Chef, and makes Anthony Bourdain actually say nice things about a chef? If the meal is lousy, you’ll hear it from me, because diners need to know which restaurant should earn their $28 come HV Restaurant Week.’

I needn’t have worried: the restaurant, which sits on the Hudson River and has always reminded me of Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeve’s Lake House, is indeed a winner, and what a relief, because I’ve decided there’s no place in town I’d be more horrified to be blacklisted from than X20.

Simply put: what a marvelous evening! And what huge strides the restaurant has made since the last time I visited for Hudson Valley Restaurant Week two years ago. On that occasion, while the food was very good, two of the three Restaurant Week entrees looked and tasted so similar I left feeling like I had no idea what I could expect from the regular menu if I ventured back for a non-restaurant week dinner.

This time? There were choices galore!

My dining companion Todd and I were seated in the main level of the restaurant (there’s also a smaller dining area upstairs that’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop—avoid the upstairs if possible); within moments, a polished, dapper gentleman deposited menus in front of us, and began telling us about the specials for the evening.

This is when my eyes glazed over and I let my mind wander to the fabulous weather we’ve been having and how nice it would be to take a boat out onto the Hudson and race it under the Tappan Zee Bridge, which had caught my eye through the window. (Normally, I enjoy listening to dinner specials, but this was an exception: I knew I had come out to take advantage of the $28 dinner; it was pointless to get excited about a dish that was going to jack up the price.)

Todd, on the other hand, was having other ideas.

“How much is that rock shrimp appetizer you just mentioned?” he asked.

Our server looked surprised. “Each of the specials I mentioned to you is a part of the Restaurant Week menu,” he said. “You can order any of those and still come in at $28.”

Now I was all ears. This was going to be embarrassing.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Could you describe the rock shrimp appetizer again?”

It was a rock shrimp risotto in lobster sauce.

“…and…. what about that entrée?”

Duck.

“…. And… the dessert?”

Blueberry cobbler. Our server was still smiling, despite having gone through all of the specials twice. A classy guy, our server.

Here’s my point: who would’ve thought that X20 would be serving Restaurant Week specials? The restaurant already had four choices each for Appetizer, Entrée, and Dessert, (normally, restaurants have three, and some offer only one dessert). X20 was bringing the grand total of choices to five. FIVE choices for each course! You go, X20.

Here’s how the rest of our dinner went down:
Complimentary gorgonzola biscuit. Nice way to start the meal. The bread guy was also carrying some crusty, delicious-looking French bread, which he said we could have too, but Todd and I stuck with the biscuit.

To drink was a $40 bottle of “Right Banks Red,” a blend, from Hudson Valley Farms right here in New York. The wine distributor, Bill, was extremely happy with our choice, saying he had made it himself. Like a proud papa, he checked on us throughout the evening, curious as to how the wine was holding up through our meal (fantastic).
Our appetizers:

Todd’s Rock Shrimp Risotto with Lobster Sauce:
(“See? He listened to the specials,” our server admonished me.) This was a wonderful risotto: rich and creamy, with a slight kick (garlic?), and nice chunky pieces of shrimp.

I stuck with the regular menu and ordered the Spicy Tuna Roll with Avocado:
Yep, that’s eight slices there, an extremely generous portion for an appetizer. I’ve ordered tuna at X20 before and deemed it some of the freshest raw seafood I’ve ever had. This spicy tuna was equally fresh. Surprisingly, the little frisee salad in the middle of the plate with the yuzu vinaigrette ended up stealing the show. Each element was so remarkably fresh, with the yuzu added such a sweet, unexpected ping!. I could’ve easily made a meal out it.

For dinner, Todd ordered the New York Sirloin:
This was very good. I’m convinced Peter Kelly’s strength is steak. So many friends have raved about the masterfully seasoned/grilled piece of meat they experienced at X20 or Restaurant X in Congers. Here, the caramelized shallots and sauce choron (a béarnaise sauce with tomato paste) added a creamy kick. There were also some buttery Haricot Verts with a killer snap, and a waxy, truffled Yukon potato puree (with a whole piece of sage inside a potato chip). A winner.

I ordered the Grilled Loin of Black Hog Pork:
Another generous portion, but I appreciated the understated elegance of Todd’s sirloin to the more in-your-face flavors of this pork dish. Almost unidentifiable on the upper-left are fried brussel sprouts, which I adored, however, I’ve spoken to people who have ordered these same brussel sprouts, really looking forward to brussel sprouts, who were disappointed when these little fellas rolled out instead. They’re different. I suppose because I had no preconceived notion of what I was eating (I just took a bite and said, “This is good; it reminds me of something. What is it?”), I was delighted to discover I was eating brussel sprouts. If I were expecting brussel sprouts, maybe it would’ve been a different story. Also on the left was a sweet potato and ginger mousseline. The ginger was a bit overpowering, but the flavors still went nicely together. Points for creativity!

And now for our desserts, which were the show-stoppers of the evening.

Over on Todd’s plate, you have Old Bushmill’s Butterscotch Pudding:
Ie: the best butterscotch pudding I’ve ever tasted, reminiscent of a crème brule. And those little lady fingers on the right? Little pillows. Insanely good. If I had to recommend one dessert on the menu, it’d be this one. I say that even with Peter Kelly’s famous Red Velvet Cake on the menu (I don’t even like red velvet cake, but his cake is something else entirely), and my dessert, which was also killer.

Here’s mine, the Warm Banana & Walnut Bread Pudding:
I’ve had delicious bread pudding before, but when I bit into this, I would every so often get a taste of mashed banana that was so. unbelievably. fresh. It tied the whole dish together. Outstanding.

Here’s a pic of two coconut macaroons that accompanied our very reasonable bill:
Fellas: X20 is one classy establishment. You’ve got the views, ambiance, a professional staff capable of serving a well-paced meal even during the craziness of Restaurant Week, a superstar chef who likes to come out and greet you (also during the craziness of Restaurant Week), and dishes that are daring in flavor combinations, but still resemble the meat and potatoes you crave.

Here’s hoping you can score a last-minute ressie this week, even if you have to eat at 9:30 at night. It’s worth it.

X20: Xaviars on the Hudson
71 Water Grant Street
Yonkers, NY 10701
(914) 965-1111

Okinawa Soba... Behold!

2010-03-15T21:10:00.037-04:00

Some of you may be all, “Hey, where’d Sharon go?”

To those people (although I do appreciate you noticed I was gone), I’d have to be all, “Back off! I’ve been making Okinawa soba. From scratch!”

Above you have the fruits of all-day labor. All. Day. And boy, was it worth it. This is a Real Deal Holyfield recipe for people who don’t want to cut corners. We’re talking homemade pork stock, thick, chewy noodles containing a somewhat bizarre secret ingredient (don’t worry, I reveal it below), and rafute (pork belly braised in Awamori, an Okinawan liquor with a taste somewhere between Jack Daniels and sake).

Why all the labor? Why the countless hours? Well sit back, and let me take you back to 2006, when my mom, uncle and I had the best bowl of noodles known to man at Kishimoto Soba in Motobu, Okinawa. This restaurant (if you could call this nondescript shack a restaurant) isn’t one you’ll find in guidebooks; instead, it’s one you take a chance on based on the long line that spans outside the door and down the back alley. It’s a line that makes you overlook the patrons who have to step outside to wash their hands at the outdoor sink, or the 30-minute wait it takes to duck inside the cramped, bare-bones room and eat at a table full of strangers. As we waited outside that afternoon, I peaked into a window leading into the kitchen. I saw an elderly woman smile back at me, countless creases forming around her eyes, making her look even older. Dried noodles hung around her from every imaginable corner, making her little shack look as if it had just been toilet-papered on Halloween. “Heck,” I joked to my mom, “a restaurant’s got to be doing something right if its menu only has two options [“small bowl” or “large bowl”].”

A little background: upon arriving in Naha about a week prior, we had consumed countless bowls of soba. Each bowl was delicious, yet all were pretty much the same: a piece of tender rafute, a slice of steamed fish cake, pickled ginger, scallions, all placed atop a bed of noodles swimming in broth. So what made Kishimoto’s noodles so special? I wondered this aloud as I dug into my bowl that afternoon. Why were these so much chewier and more flavorful?

“Tree ash,” my mom’s cousin Eddie said brightly, between slurps.

I looked at Eddie suspiciously, yet quickly chalked up his answer to a translation glitch (overlooking the fact that his English is impeccable). Then—as is quite easy to do—I thought nothing of tree ash for many, many months to come.

Back in New York years later, however, my mom and I couldn’t shake that meal. The noodles haunted our dreams, and caused wails of disappointment if we tried to re-create the magic in soba houses across Manhattan. Nothing came close.

But, as luck would have it, one day my mom received an Okinawan cookbook from a friend by mail. Under the description for “Okinawa Soba,” plain as day, it instructed: “For two months, dry chopped wood, then burn to ash.”

No shit, I thought. Eddie wasn’t pulling our leg!

On further investigation, my mom and I learned that kneading flour with the lye obtained from natural wood ashes is a traditional method of making noodles that’s been around for many, many years in areas of China and Thailand, and, in Japan, solely in Okinawa. That’s all my mom needed to hear before she began to ask co-workers with wood-burning stoves to save their ashes.

It was time to bring Kishimoto’s noodles to New York!

Here follows the long arduous, process of making Okinawa Soba, in three parts: 1.) Okinawa Soba Noodles, 2.) Rafute, and 3.) Okinawa Soba (ie: the broth, and putting it all together).

[Note: my mom and I did this whole process in a day. It would be very easy to make the stock ahead of time, and/or the rafute the day before to break up the process. Or, maybe the first time, you just want to make the noodles and buy store-bought broth. Or skip the rafute altogether! I’ve outlined all the steps below, but it is of course dealer’s choice as to how you want to proceed. Pick and choose if you like. …just don’t come complaining to me if you don’t get the same five-star results. And no matter WHAT, read this blog entry all the way through before you start making anything, or you will never, ever come to this blog again out of sheer hatred for me when you realize that certain things should’ve been started the night before.]

Okinawa Soba (just the noodles)
In case you don’t relish the idea of eating soba two months from now because you need to wait for your chopped wood to dry and rid itself of its natural sap, collect ashes from a wood-burning stove or a fireplace (one cup is more than enough).

Mix wood ash with 2-3 times the amount of water:
Set it overnight. The next day, take the clear top of the liquid:
... and strain it through a cotton cloth (cheesecloth works, or even a paper towel or coffee filter will do):
This is your ash water. Reserve 1 cup of ash water, which is all you will need for the noodles.

In a separate bowl, mix 3 ¾ cup flour, 2 tsp. of salt, and 1 cup of ash water to make the dough. Knead the dough thoroughly for about 20-30 minutes.
(Really, don’t skimp on this part. Break up the dough into two separate pieces if it’s too big to handle.)

Once dough is thoroughly kneaded, separate it into four equal balls, cover it with plastic wrap, and let it rest for about 1 hour at room temperature.

For the next part, my mom and I busted out Angie, our KitchenAid Mixer. Roll the four balls flat, and then put the dough through the pasta roller attachment, on the lowest speed, and at the lowest level:
Once the dough is through the roller, fold it in half, turn the thickness to 2, and run it through once more. Repeat until you are at a thickness of 3.

Next, run the dough through the pasta cutter attachment:
...and hang the finished pieces on a pasta rack:
(Don’t have an Angie? Don’t be discouraged. The dough can be made the old-fashioned way, too. Roll it out and cut it with a knife instead.)

Next, bring water to a boil, and boil the noodles (in separate batches—don’t overload the pot) until cooked.
Drain the noodles thoroughly and mix with vegetable oil to prevent sticking.

Note: The noodles are probably the last thing you should make, as you want to roll the dough, hang it, and boil the noodles as close as possible to serving time to ensure freshness. Make sure your broth and rafute are complete first. So why did I share this part with you first? Your ash has to set overnight. Do that, then set the rest aside.

Rafute (aka: pork belly, aka: the bomb)
Recipe adapted from the blog, Three Tastes.

Not everyone has a bottle of Okinawan Awamori handy to braise pork belly. Whiskey or sake will also work well (our particular bottle of Awamori reminded us of Jack Daniels). As for the pork belly, go to your Asian butcher and ask for 3 lbs. of not-too-lean pork belly:
Make sure your butcher doesn’t take off the top layer of fat. (Isn’t that picture absolutely magnificent?)

Place whole pieces of pork belly, and ¼ cup of sliced ginger into a heavy-bottomed pan. Add ¼ cup of awamori (or whiskey or sake), then cover the meat with water.
Over medium heat, bring the liquid just to a boil, then cover and immediately reduce it to a simmer. Simmer for 1 hour, making sure to top off the pork belly with hot water to keep the meat covered.

Remove the pork from the liquid (awwww... what did we do? It’s not nearly as pretty anymore):
Reserve the liquid (chill it, and remove the layer of lard on the surface).

When the pork is cool enough, slice it 2 ½ inches across, and about ½ inch thick:
Next, combine 1 cup of the reserved broth from the boiling stage (the liquid you just removed the lard from), 1 cup of awamori (or whiskey or sake), ¾ cup raw sugar, and a slice of ginger into a heavy-bottomed pan. Bring to a boil over high-heat. Reduce the heat to medium, and then add the sliced pork belly:
When the heat begins to bubble, reduce it to a simmer, cover, and cook for about 25 minutes.

Turn the slices over, cover again, and simmer for another 20 minutes.

Add ¼ cup of soy sauce and stir to combine with the rest of the braising liquid. Cook for 15 minutes at the lowest simmer with no cover so that the liquid starts to evaporate. Turn the slices over again and continue cooking without a cover for another 15 minutes or so:
Keep cooking, you’re not done. You want more of that liquid to evaporate so that the pork belly glazes and looks sticky. It’s imperative you get to the sticky stage, because the pork tastes sooooo much better:
When you’re finished, the pork belly is ready to be added to your soup....That is ...if only you had soup. Why did I go out of order again? Because the rafute keeps well in the fridge for over a week and will last months in the freezer. Make it ahead of time. When you are ready to use it, re-heat it on an oiled skillet over medium heat. Or throw it in the oven. That works, too.

Okinawa Soba (aka: the broth, and putting it all together)
Once again, go to your friendly neighborhood Asian butcher and ask for about 3 lbs. of pork bones (we used neck bones, but you can use rib or hip bones), broken into large pieces.

Wash bones in boiling water until they are clean. Add water to cover the pork bones in a large pot and boil.
Remove pork and rinse it. Discard water in pot, and boil a new pot of water for the stove:Add pork to boiling water, then reduce heat to a slow simmer for 2 to 3 hours. After simmering for about 1 ½ hours, add about ½ cup of (optional) dried bonito flakes (you can wrap them in a cloth), or, if you don’t have a cloth, you can always strain the flakes out later.

Once the broth has reduced, filter the stock through a cloth into a separate pot and continue simmering. Add salt, or soy sauce to taste, depending on your preference. At this point, you should have a nicely flavored broth. If you’re disappointed with the results, keep in mind the flavor will be taken up considerably when you add the noodles, rafute, ginger, steamed fish cake (kamaboko: found at any Asian specialty store), shiitake mushrooms, and scallions:
Assembly steps: Place the ash noodles in a bowl, and cover with the soup stock you just made. Garnish with a slice of rafute, fish cake, scallions, mushrooms, and sliced red pickled ginger. Add a dash of soy sauce, and serve hot.
Enjoy!

You sure as heck deserved it.

(My mom made me change the last part to “heck.”)

Special thanks to: mom (of course—where would I be without her?); Grandma (who did a test run with my mom before I got involved); Eddie, who introduced us to the real-deal Okinawa soba that magical afternoon; and Kishimoto Soba for making us all believers.

What’s Cooking Over at The Good Life

2010-02-22T19:13:00.010-05:00

It’s been busy at my day job, which means not a lot of time to dine out. Or cook for that matter. But stay tuned:

With Hudson Valley Restaurant Week (March 15-28th) fast approaching, there are some write-ups in the pipeline: I’m booked at X20 Xaviars on the Hudson in Yonkers, La Panetiere in Rye, and Harvest on Hudson in Hastings on Hudson.

I’m also doing my best to finish an entry on Eleven Madison Park, which Eileen and I visited back in December—the entry got away from me with all the intricate little courses that dotted the meal… and the alcohol that was consumed. But I’ll pull something together—the dinner was certainly an experience worth writing about.

In cooking news, my mom, grandma and I have been experimenting with soba—we’re trying to create the authentic Okinawan variety of the noodle (there is a secret ingredient that takes the dish up a notch). When we get there, we’ll share the recipe so you can make your own and knock your friends on their behinds.

Finally, I’ve created a fan page for this here blog on Facebook! Click here for the link and to become a fan. Thanks so much to all who have already joined. At last count, I was up to 54, which is 52 more fans than I anticipated (I only accounted for me and my mom). Feel free to leave comments or post questions to other foodie fans when you’re in need of restaurant suggestions.

I leave you with an easy-peasy Lemon Chicken recipe (pictured above). It’s mind-bogglingly simple, with only a handful of ingredients, but it’s a good one nonetheless; the coating of the chicken has a moist, spongy consistency that melts in your mouth. Give it a try if you’re looking for quick, mid-week comfort food. (I’d place it up there with my anchovy pasta). It’s also the dish I’m planning to make for m’boy Todd on Wednesday night.

Lemon Chicken
Sprinkle salt and pepper on 1 ½ pounds thinly sliced chicken breasts (or chicken pounded flat so that the scallops are roughly ¼ inch thick). Dust the scallops with flour, and shake off the excess.

Melt roughly 2 tablespoons of butter and 2 tablespoons olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. (Throw in some thinly-sliced cloves of garlic at this point if you like garlic – I can’t get enough of garlic. I should call this recipe “Lemon Garlic Chicken.”) Add the chicken, and cook for about 2 minutes, or until they’re golden brown. Remove the chicken and set aside.

Pour off any of the fat that’s accumulated in the skillet, and add about ½ cup of chicken stock. Scrape up all the nice brown bits at the bottom of the skillet, and then place the chicken back in the skillet. Add thinly sliced lemon slices on top of the chicken (you don't have to slice your lemons so that they look like stop signs like in my picture above). Reduce the heat to low, and simmer for about 15 minutes. Serve your chicken with brown rice, some mushrooms and asparagus. Enjoy!

Blue Smoke: Not a Fan

2010-02-10T12:43:00.025-05:00

My evening at Blue Smoke started interestingly enough. I was photographing the outside of the restaurant and jazz club, when a gentleman tapped me on the shoulder.

“Miss,” he asked. “Can you tell me what’s so interesting about the outside of this restaurant?”

My dad, as any proud papa would, jumped in immediately and shouted, “My daughter is a food blogger!”

The gentleman, not a tourist at all, but a very important fellow behind the Blue Smoke empire, considered this, took a business card out of his pocket, and told me to give it to the host, who was now following this exchange curiously from the other side of the window. “He’ll take care of you,” the gentleman promised.

A very nice gesture, but, as I insisted to the pleading faces of my dining companions that evening (Dad, my brother Bill, Lori and Todd), to give that card to the host would be committing the cardinal sin of food blogging: using your “power” (I use that word loosely given the 40 or so visits I get on my blog each day) to receive special treatment once inside a restaurant. No—to play that card would compromise the integrity of our dinner.

This, while sound logic, did not sit well with said dining companions, who wanted the free shiznit.

“Do it,” my brother whispered to me more than once, as we waited for our table. It was 7:45 p.m. Our dinner reservation was for 8:00 p.m. I felt the crisp edges of the business card in my pocket, and hunger pangs in my belly.

At 8:25 we were seated, and to Blue Smoke’s credit, we were told to choose any appetizer off the menu as an apology for our wait.

The plan for the evening was to take advantage of New York City Restaurant Week: Winter 2010, and enjoy a 3-course dinner for $35.00. But this didn’t happen. The choices just didn’t seem like a $35 value. For instance, one of the entrees was the Kansas City Spareribs. On the regular, non-NYC Restaurant Week menu, a half-rack ran $14.95. We did the math, and it didn’t seem plausible for the Restaurant Week appetizers (I remember one being a braised veal cheek), and the dessert (one was a chocolate silk pie) to add up to the remaining $20 you would need to total $35.

So, while all five of us strongly considered the Restaurant Week menu (it was the impetus for our visit); all five of us ultimately decided against it, and went with the regular menu, which seemed like a better value.

First, let’s take a look at a highlight of the evening. Here’s the complimentary Crispy Chili Crusted Calamari with Charred Red Pepper Mayo ($12.95):

[First, my apologies for the bad photography to follow. I put a candle next to most of our dishes, hoping for some added light, but all it really did was eff with the white balance to make my shoddy photography harder to fix in Photoshop later.]
I don’t know if it’s because everyone at our table was starving at this point, but this dish went over quite well. The calamari were well-cooked, not greasy or rubbery; there were deep-fried lemons in there that added a welcome zing, and the mayo had a delicious kick. A promising start.

Before we get to our orders, I’ll mention the service at Blue Smoke. I was very surprised at the lack of personality. Blue Smoke is one of famed restauranteur’s Danny Meyer’s restaurants. And Danny Meyer is all about hospitality—he’s written books about this philosophy, and his empire has been built around it. Heck, the lady who took my order for a ShackBurger at Shake Shack actually made me feel good about waiting almost two hours for a burger. At Blue Smoke, however, I don’t remember anything about our waiter other than he kept telling us to lift up our menus in order to set stuff down. And that he made himself scarce for the rest of the evening.

Onto our dinners.

For the most part, we didn’t like them.

Unless your name is Todd. We’ll address another highlight for the evening, his meal, the Filet Mignon with Chipotle Bernaise Sauce, Mushrooms, Leeks, and a crispy goat cheese potato cake ($34.95):
Todd’s not a dessert person, and he had already had his share of calamari, so he figured why not use his $35 Restaurant Week budget on something he really wanted. Enter the Filet. My problem with this logic (at the time) was that we were at a rib joint. I was worried he might be setting himself up for mediocrity.

But turns out, Todd’s filet was just about the only thing that was smokin’ at the rib joint that night. The filet was tender and juicy, with a nice seared finish, the mushrooms tasted as if they were sautéed in the drippings from the filet, and the potato cake? Suh-weeeeeeet. Pile all three elements together, with a dollop of tangy and buttery Chipotle Bernaise, and you have a darn near perfect bite. Better than Morton’s (although that’s easy), better than BLT Steak.

Here’s a picture of Bill with his Pulled Pork Platter with Pit Beans and Sesame Slaw ($18.50):
Not only does this picture illustrate the effect of three Chimays, it also provides a useful scale to fully appreciate just how much pulled pork was on Bill’s plate. It was a silly amount.

Bill took a couple of bites and deemed the pork “ok.” I agreed. It was a little dry, but not off-putting—it just wasn’t something I would want to eat a lot of. The beans were nothing special, but the Sesame Slaw was incredible. Different and refreshing—had a bit of an Asian twist. I think there might’ve been some rice wine vinegar in there as well as sesame oil, which gave it a clean finish.

Here’s a picture of the half-rack of Kansas City Spareribs ($14.95).
They’re described on the menu as “big, juicy, spicy and sweet,” but the juiciness translated to greasiness at our table. No one liked them! Surprising, after all I’ve read about them, and the restaurant’s reputation. I’ll stick with Warren’s ribs, thank you very much.

We also ordered side dishes, since nothing came with the ribs (another reason we weren’t feeling the Restaurant Week menu): Macaroni and Cheese ($7.95), Hush Puppies with Jalapeno Marmalade ($3.95), and Cornbread ($3.50):
The mac and cheese was totally lackluster. And this is coming from a gal who loves mac and cheese. It reminded me of Velveeta’s, although I like Velveeta’s—so this was like bad Velveeta’s mac and cheese.

I’ve never had Hush Puppies before (I believe it’s a cornmeal-based fried bread), so it’s hard to judge, but it tasted a bit like fried grits. The jalapeno marmalade was too sweet for me, as well.

The cornbread was a travesty. It tasted like eating a stick of fried, greasy butter. I couldn’t even taste the corn. Even though there were only two pieces for our table of five, there was a whole piece left when our check came.

Bottom line: I’d be willing to write off Blue Smoke completely, if I didn’t enjoy stealing “perfect bites” from Todd’s plate so much. It was a terrific filet. Still, I doubt we’ll be back with so many stellar restaurants in the city.

Blue Smoke dining companions: you were cracking me up all night with your assessment of our dinner. What am I missing? Leave your own point of view below!

And Happy Birthday, Paw!

Blue Smoke
116 E 27th St
New York, NY 10016
(212) 447-7733

Dovetail: NYC Restaurant Week 2010

2010-02-01T18:35:00.021-05:00

Are you enjoying NYC Restaurant Week: Winter 2010? My budget and time constraints only allowed for two restaurants this season, so I wanted to make both picks count. Up this past Friday was Dovetail, made famous by Frank Bruni and Adam Platt’s solid reviews, and a few articles that showcased the restaurant’s use of bacon in dessert as part of the newest culinary trend.

What did I learn about Dovetail on Friday? A.) that joint is far. I picked a restaurant where I actually had to exit Grand Central Station and walk to Bryant Park on one of the coldest night of the year in order to catch the right subway line (the B). B.) The ride and walk ended up being well worth it. Even though I couldn’t feel my nose or ears by the time I arrived, I knew almost immediately that Dovetail was the right choice. Because… C.) ….Chef John Fraser clearly loves Restaurant Week! Amuses and free stuff were flying left and right! I told Eileen, my dinner companion for the night, that the creativity-level of the food—along with the sheer amount of it—reminded me of the dishes we sampled at Anthos last year (minus the crappy service we got at Anthos).

Dovetail the restaurant is quite comfortable. It’s a small space, yet there is ample room between tables to make it feel private and relaxing. The colors exude warmth, with browns and brick, and the vibe is a tad more formal and classy than I expected. Servers were especially going for the formal vibe, yet never came across as inaccessibly stuffy or weird.

But let’s get to the free stuff.

Shortly after we placed our orders, we received the following:
Our amuse bouche was a stunner: pureed beets, sour cream, and salmon tartare. The taste was nice enough (I’m not a huge fan of beets), and certainly classy, but I much preferred the white cheddar cornbread that was also left on our table: sweet and moist, with a slightly firm outer shell. One of the best pieces of bread ever sampled.

For starters, Eileen chose the cauliflower soup:
The server added some extra elements tableside: bacon, apples, walnuts and brown butter that, when swirled, reminded us of Quaker Oatmeal’s Maple Brown Sugar Instant Variety. I stole a spoonful, and while the consistency looked watery, it totally worked, as did the flavor: rich, and super-fresh. Like Grade-A roasted cauliflowers in pureed form.

I was looking to shake things up this Restaurant Week and try something new, so I ordered the Rabbit Mille Fuille:
I had no idea what a mille fuille (pronounced “mill fwee”) was, but when my plate arrived, I deduced it had something to do with stacked layers of phyllo dough. In between the layers was the rabbit (in terrine form) and a frisee salad including pears and turnips. There was a super-pleasant creamy sauce underneath it all. Altogether it was refreshing, and well-balanced. A good start.

Next, Eileen and I ordered the Hanger Steak:
The portion might look small in the photo, but it was a nice-sized serving and a great progression to our appetizers. The steak was cooked well, but it seemed either over-salted, or lacking something sweet to balance the overall dish. Still, Eileen and I both came away thinking the dish was a success, mostly due to the hen of the woods mushrooms, and an absolutely fabulous mini beef cheek lasagna (the lasagna is hidden behind the steak in the photo).

For dessert, Eileen ordered something chocolatey (per usual), the Black Forest Gateau:
She said it was fine, but nothing out-of-this-world. She was more interested in eyeballing my dessert for the rest of the evening.

Cause the famous bread pudding was on the dessert menu! (Sort of… they ix-nayed the bacon —maybe they thought it was too out there for Restaurant Week):
Bacon or no bacon, my first bite was one of those classic first bites. It reminded me of when Anton Ego took a bite of Lil Chef’s ratatouille in Ratatouille: a sensory explosion that took me back to Saturday breakfasts with Mom, to comfort, to sheer happiness, to indulgence. To da shiznit. I kept looking at that little yellow square placed before me, stupefied as to how one bite of anything could be so good. And it’s why I will for certain come back to Dovetail when Restaurant Week is over. I simply must have that little yellow square again.

After dessert, a small plate of mignardises:
And with the bill, some peanut-butter granola for the road:
The highs far outweighed any lows experienced at Dovetail (lows included our tea arriving after dessert, and one overly ambitious server who came by and hovered over us to make sure we ate our amuses (Eileen and I wanted that tasty cornbread before anything)).

So stay classy, Dovetail. Perhaps next time I visit, the slab of bacon will be put in its rightful place—atop of your bread pudding. I can tell already it will work just perfectly.

Dovetail
103 West 77th Street
New York, NY 10024
212-362-3800

NYC Restaurant Week: Winter 2010

2010-01-31T22:11:00.003-05:00

Howdy fellers,

Just a quick note to let you know New York City Restaurant Week: Winter 2010 is upon us. This past Friday, Eileen and I had an extremely satisfying dinner at Dovetail. (Lord knows why I picked a restaurant so far away from Grand Central Station on the coldest night of the year, but it was well worth it). The food, service, and ambiance: all top-notch and very thoughtful. Check back later this week for a full report (having some issues getting photos off of my camera).

Looking forward to continuing NYC Restaurant Week this Friday at Blue Smoke!

What about you? What are you most excited to try? Or, better yet, where have you gone? Tell us all about it in the Comments section below.

Hudson Valley Restaurant Week 2010

2010-01-10T15:14:00.009-05:00

I may be a little late, but the list of participating restaurants has been posted for 2010 Hudson Valley Restaurant Week, March 15-28th (enjoy a three-course, prix-fixe lunch for $20 and dinner for $28 at participating restaurants). I’d advise making your reservations now, as this event has risen steadily in popularity over the years—spots fill up quickly, especially Friday evenings at the more well-known restaurants.

What are the more well-known restaurants, you ask? Well, perhaps more important than ‘well-known,’ is finding the restaurant that will give you the best bang for your buck. For instance, everyone’s favorite new restaurant The Cookery is on the list, yet dishes on their current menu are such a great value, a pre-fixe menu could potentially be more money—for less options. No, my game plan each and every Restaurant Week is to test out the places that could make a real dent in my wallet without the discount. Somewhere I’ve been curious to try, but not necessarily curious enough where I would want to deal with the hefty bill that would follow. Here are some “high curiosity” places: 42, The American Bounty at the Culinary Institute of America, Crabtree’s Kittle House, Equus at the Castle on the Hudson, Harvest on Hudson, Iron Horse Grill, La Panetiere, Ruth Chris’s Steak House, and X20 Xaviars on the Hudson.

What’s missing? Would’ve been nice to see Richard Gere’s Bedford Post Inn on the list, as well as Tarry Lodge.

Also, I suppose I should address last Restaurant Week. If you remember my report from last time around, I was admittedly a crankypants. […but rightly so, I still say! Is it wrong to expect the same level of quality and service from a restaurant? Should hidden fees be tacked on only during Restaurant Week to make up for the discounted price? Why bother participating at all in Restaurant Week if that’s your game?] But what’s done is done. I’m putting on my glass-is-half-full cap, and hoping for the best this time around. This girl still loves a good deal, and if she doesn’t get one, she can always complain about it here.

So where am I going? Right now, I’m sitting on reservations at X20 Xaviars on the Hudson and Harvest on Hudson. I’ve been to X20 twice in the past—once for Restaurant Week (nice, but the offered dishes all seemed very similar to one another, and we sat upstairs—just not as fun as downstairs) and the other time was for my friend’s 30th birthday (extraordinary—and our tab was actually less than when our same group did The Melting Pot’s “Big Night Out”). Hopefully, they’ll vary up the menu a bit this time around; also, I requested to sit downstairs.

As for Harvest on Hudson, can you believe I’ve never been? I hear such great things about this restaurant, and I’m looking forward to finally testing it out. The lady on the phone was confused when I said I wanted to make a reservation for Restaurant Week. Apparently, Harvest currently has a pre-fixe $28 menu, which they serve Monday through Friday. So, my reservation actually goes against the whole strategy I shared with you above. We’ll see if it sticks. I’m curious to try La Panetiere, so maybe I’ll swap.

Where are you going? What are you most excited to try?

Best Dishes, 2009

2010-01-06T19:17:00.026-05:00

Aw yeah, kiiiiiiiids. Look who’s back with another blog entry—in the same week!

Yesterday, we tackled best and worst dining experiences of 2009. Today we move on to Best Dishes. I’m going to skip “Worst Dishes” entirely because I have a feeling that might be in bad taste. All restaurants have bad days, and creating a dish seems like a deeply personal process. A chef should be allowed to fail without worrying that an experiment will come back to haunt him or her on some “Worst Dish” list... right? (Not that any chef is losing sleep over this here blog.)

But enough of that. Let us move on to reveal… the best dishes of 2009!

#10. Ravioli with Short Ribs and Foie Gras in Truffle Butter, X20 Xaviar’s on the Hudson
So much flavor and decadence packed into one bite. Absolutely wonderful, just like Rock Star Chef Peter Kelly.

#9. Fried Oysters, Pearl Oyster Bar
Better than Pearl’s famous lobster roll.

#8. ShackBurgers and Vanilla Milkshake, Shake Shack
Might not be the fanciest dish on the list, but the tummy wants what the tummy wants. And when my friend Eileen and I waited to be seated for our reservations at Eleven Madison Park, part of us just wanted to skip the whole charade and walk across the street for Shackburgers.

#7. Key Lime Pie, Rraci’s Ristorante
I can’t decide if points should be added or subtracted for the above presentation. Cause the pie sort of looks like a hat an Avatar would wear if it were being fancy or going to church. Either way, the dessert is the best Key Lime er…Pie I’ve ever tasted.

#6. Chocolate Dome, Tarry Lodge
If Rraci’s Key Lime Pie and Tarry Lodge’s Chocolate Dome were in a Dessert-Off, however, I’d have to go with the simplicity of Tarry Lodge’s Chocolate Dome. The gooeyness of the chocolate coupled with and the richness of the pistachio ice cream was absolute perfection. Have I had that combination before? Countless times. But have I ever had it executed so well? Nope.

#5. Charred Baby Octopus, Soma 107
Sadly, I don’t know if this dish exists anymore. Initial buzz was very strong at Soma 107, but last I heard, chef James Cawley is no longer with the restaurant. I had no idea octopus could be so tender, and my first bite was an absolute explosion of flavors and textures.

#4. Shrimp with Grapefruit and shaved fennel, Tarry Lodge
A handful of ultra-fresh ingredients refreshingly under-fussed-over to let each element shine.

#3. Dry-rub ribs, Big W’s Roadside Bar-B-Q
High on my list for the same reason Shake Shack made the cut. You simply cannot ignore your cravings. And these ribs—smoked with such care and complexity—come to mind pretty much anytime I’m in Dutchess—heck, even Putnam county.

#2. Langoustines, Tom: Tuesday Dinner
My favorite dish from my 12-course tasting menu at Tom: Tuesday Dinner happens to be my worst photograph, unfortunately. Colicchio doesn’t normally get all loco in the kitchen—yet there was something about this dish that was very experimental and exotic. Were there Thai influences at play? I’m not sure, but it was his most successful and delectable dish of the evening.

#1. Radiatore with Lamb Bolognese, The Cookery
My number one pick because I could eat this pasta forever and ever and never get sick of it. And it represents all I love about The Cookery: authenticity, simplicity and soul.

Honorable Mentions: Melt Sandwich Shop’s Pulled Pork Pizza, Emma’s Ale House’s Krispy Kreme Bread Pudding, Locanda Verde’s Fava Bean crostino on prosciutto bread.

2009: A Look Back

2010-01-05T18:51:00.034-05:00

Happy New Year, everyone! Can you believe The Good Life has been online for a full year!?!

Creating this blog has been an interesting experiment. It began with no real goal; instead, it was a way for me to remember and document some of the stellar meals I’ve been fortunate enough to experience. So it was a surprise when Google Analytics confirmed that people were actually visiting my site each day. Links from Liz Johnson’s Small Bites, Foodgawker, and Tastespotting grew traffic considerably, but I suppose I didn’t truly understand the power of the internetz until The Amateur Gourmet himself, Adam Roberts, commented on my Almond Cake experiment. A few days later, Amanda Hesser tweeted that she loved the frowny face I put in her cake. And then there was that day in August I thought Analytics was broken because it said I got over 2,000 unique visitors in one day…and then later that same day when it turned out Analytics wasn’t broken at all—The Cooking Club of America had linked to my entry on Blueberry Buckle!

People were reading me!

I only hope I can stick with my blog in 2010. The Good Life is a one-woman show… and said woman has a full-time job, random extra-curricular hobbies, and a growing case of ADD. Sitting down to write can be difficult at times. As can paying for some of these absolutely fabulous meals. Hopefully, you’ll visit now and again, and won’t be too frustrated if there’s a lull in new content.

That said, let’s do one of those 2009 wrap-ups, where I tell you about all the best and worst things of 2009! In 2010!

Best Meals, 2009
2009 netted some mouth-watering, exciting food all over New York—fine dining, roadside food, grandma’s cooking: there were highs in every category. Here follows five of my top favorites:

(Note: Perilla, Craft and Babbo (the pasta-tasting evening) were not eligible for Best Meals, 2009, as all happened at the end of 2008. Each meal was absolutely fantastic, and a strong factor as to why I started this blog in the first place.)

#5. AquavitHere we have a NYC Restaurant Week participant that got it right: a pre-fixe menu finally representative of a restaurant’s cuisine without making diners suspicious as to what they were missing off of the regular menu; a special guest appearance by a super-star chef (Marcus Samuelsson); the strange and intriguing flavors of Scandinavian haute cuisine; and the feeling that I had just experienced a part of New York City history. After over 20 years in Manhattan, Aquavit is decidedly still über-fabulous.

#4. Big W’s Roadside Bar-B-Q

Seriously. Don’t let the roadside locale or the drive north to Dutchess County deter you. And before you turn your nose up to da best ribs in da world, know that owner and all-around-nice-guy Warren Norstein used to cook at both Chanterelle and Bouley (in da city). His dry-rub ribs? Intoxicating. His excitement? Contagious. Buy a mountain of ribs for a few bucks, and while Warren packs up your order, sample some of his brisket, smoked chicken, or wings. Warren’s only happy when you’re happy.

#3. Tarry Lodge
Very new to the scene in 2009 was Mario Batali and Joe Bastianich’s Tarry Lodge in Port Chester. One of my favorite dishes all year was unquestionably the grilled shrimp with grapefruit and shaved fennel root I sampled off of the antipasti menu. A simple dish, yes, but bursting with flavor, freshness—each ingredient made better by the next. A trend it seems, with all of their antipasti and pizzas. This restaurant is the real deal.

#2. The Cookery
While all of Westchester buzzed about Tarry Lodge’s opening (deservedly so, the food is fantastic), a small, unassuming restaurant in Dobbs Ferry quietly opened at the bottom of Chestnut Avenue serving simple, authentic Italian food. Little did anyone know, chef David DiBari was about to storm upon the Westchester scene, delivering mind-blowing homemade pasta, affordable wine, and food just like your Italian Grandma used to make—but perhaps only if your grandma molded cavatelli in Tuscany for 20 years and bested Mario Batali six straight times on Food Network’s Iron Chef. It’s that good, peeps. The Radiatore with Lamb Bolognese still calls to me.

#1. Tom: Tuesday Dinner
Was there any question that Top Chef/Dawg Tom Colicchio’s intimate private dining room open every other Tuesday evening would be crowned Best Meal of 2009? Any doubt at all? Colicchio is a hero to me. I love his philosophy, his clean, soulful food, his integrity, his …piercing blue eyes, and how he has inspired a whole new demographic to get into the kitchen and cook. If anything, I walked away that enchanted Tuesday evening admiring my Grand Poobah all the more. Nothing can touch that meal. Pure genius at work. Under-rated, I say!

Honorable Mentions: Pearl Oyster Bar, X20 Xaviar’s on the Hudson, Melt Sandwich Shop, Babbo (second visit), Shake Shack

Biggest Disappointments, 2009
I’m more of a “glass-is-half-full” gal, so can’t say there were a lot of disappointments in 2009. I went to some amazing destinations, all pretty fantastic, some due to the food, some due to the service, some due to the company—no matter the pitfall, it seemed as if there was always a saving grace.
If I had three lemons to pick, one would be in Hyde Park, New York, where the next 3-Star Michelin Star chefs are “allegedly” born and bred—Escoffier at The Culinary Institute of America, I’ve got your number. In a nutshell: your whole staff fell asleep the night of my visit.

Another big disappointment of 2009 was my evening at The Spotted Pig where I shared oysters with a charming doctor who looked like James McAvoy (Yeah ladies, I know—pretty appalling, right?). The food was good I guess, it’s more of what followed with the doc. ...nothin.

Finally, I’d be remiss if I let Morton’s The Steakhouse, White Plains off the hook. Service was decidely on the hook that night.

...oh, and Corton can get over itself.

Check back later this week for the best dishes of 2009! And here’s to a delicious 2010!

UPDATE 1/6/10: I shouldn't write that The Spotted Pig was a disappointment. The food was quite good. And if the doctor had called me back, then I never would've had that passionate affair with Gerard Butler (Just kidding. Turns out, Gerry's not very passionate at all.)

Nope, I Haven't Quit Blogging.

2010-01-04T11:59:00.003-05:00

I just received an email from someone in the food business whom I respect very much asking me if I've quit blogging. Holy mortification, batman.

Nope! I'm still here, chief! In fact, I'm working on those "Top 2009" lists that are so popular. Would've been nice to finish them in 2009, but what can you do. Check back later this week for them, and my apologies for the long hiatus.

Happy New Year!

‘Lil Bites of Heaven

2009-11-23T23:11:00.010-05:00

It’s turkey week! Is everyone going bonkers?

Me? Not so much. My apartment’s teeny-tiny, so my mom handles the brunt of the work each and every year, and quite capably I might add. There’s always a gourmet turkey (my favorite was the year she made a Wolfgang Puck turkey and said all the brining ingredients cost more than the turkey); the steadfast standbys; and then a couple exciting new neighbors. Sometimes I bring side dishes to this shindig (Daniel Humm’s Fingerling Potatoes with Dried Figs and Thyme was a huge hit last year); other times I bake cookies.

Tomorrow, I’m planning on making mashed turnips, along with Food and Wine’s creamed spinach with parsnips, and, if I’m feeling lucky, a portabello gravy.

But I get ahead of myself. (Be on the lookout for a post-Thanksgiving wrap-up, as well as a report on Eleven Madison Park, where I was lucky enough to dine this past Saturday.) In my last entry, I promised you cookies. Festive, holiday cookies that for many, many years, got the job done until Tavis’s Ricotta Cookies usurped them. And some days? Well some days, I get a confused feeling deep in my tummy and think maybe I jumped the gun when I pronounced Tavis’s Ricotta Cookies to be better than this gem.

Because there is only one ‘Lil Bite of Heaven.

In truth, the cookie of which I speak is the “Sandbakelse,” a Scandinavian tart-shaped cookie, and it’s been knocking socks off for years, pilgrim. But let’s face it: who can pronounce “Sandbakelse”? And number two, who wants to? A ‘Lil Bite of Heaven’ is wayyyy more accurate.

I found this particular Sandbakelse recipe in one of Martha Stewart’s old Holiday Special magazines (the one where she made an igloo cake out of marzipan). I follow the recipe pretty accurately, except I prefer to fill the tart with warmed apricot-almond jam, instead of the room-temperature, red currant jelly she calls for (I also like a pecan filling, a recipe for another day): I melt apricot jam over the stove to get it nice and soft, and then add a few drops of almond extract to give it the most wonderful, tantalizing taste. But experiment! Choose your own favorite! Add a sweet potato puree! Go crazy! The real reason these little tarts are so delicious is the hint of cardamom: an intense, and exotic, (and expensive—the last bottle I picked up was around $11) spice. No one can quite place it, but everyone tastes something. And then hounds me year after year to make these treashahs again.

‘Lil Bites of Heaven
Adapted from Martha Stewart’s Sandbakelse recipe
Makes about 5 dozen

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Butter as many mini-muffin tins as you’ve got (you’ll need them all)! In a large bowl, beat ½ pound cold, unsalted butter and 1 cup granulated sugar for about 2 minutes, or until light and fluffy. Beat in 1 large egg until smooth. Add 3 cups all-purpose flour (gradually), ¾ teaspoon cardamom, and a pinch of salt: beat until combined.

Roll dough into 1-inch balls; press them into the buttered mini-muffin tins (go halfway up the tin; if the cookie is too deep, the proportions will be off and you’ll just get a mouthful of jam in your ‘lil bite); make a small well with your finger. Do not add the jam yet.

Bake until golden brown, about 18-20 minutes, rotating trays halfway through. Place cookies on a wire rack to cool. Dust with confectioners’ sugar. Fill each well with the jam/filling of your choice. (See above for my notes on apricot almond jam, my preference.)
I hope these are as successful for your Holidays as they have been for mine.

Now what are you waiting for? Back to the turkey and stuffing!

Cookies Fit for the Man Who Saved Me from Certain Death

2009-11-15T22:38:00.020-05:00

Last week, I had a bit of excitement. I pulled into work and realized that one of my tires was completely flat. Completely. Flatter than the line that registered how dead Jack Bauer was in the middle of Season 2 of 24 after he’s repeatedly tasered by terrorists. There was no way I could drive on it.

Lucky for me, a gentleman at the office offered to change it. His name is Tavis, and he’s just an all-around nice guy. He also for whatever reason has always reminded me of Tony Almeida from 24.

I’ve never had a flat before, so to have someone help me in this situation was a really big deal. I particularly appreciated Tavis’s good deed that afternoon, as he was on his way to a three-hour meeting, but insisted on changing the tire first, thinking it might be dark by the time his meeting was over.

I felt horrible about putting him out: “Tavis, you totally don’t have time to change my tire right now!” I said.

But Tavis pulled out his gun and CTU badge and said:
Do you see what I did there? The cookie is supposed to be Tony Almeida.

I knew what Tavis’s good deed deserved: the most delicious cookie in the whole wide world, The Ricotta Cookie, henceforward known as Tavis’s Ricotta Cookie. It’s wonderful: the ricotta adds moistness, the icing has a hint of almond extract—they also taste great right out of the freezer.

I found the recipe on allrecipes.com (it was submitted by “Sandy” – go, Sandy!), and upon baking my very first batch a few months ago, this little cookie instantly commandeered position of my previous favorite cookie in the whole world, “The Lil Bite of Heaven” (I’ll post a recipe for Lil Bites in a week or so – it’s an excellent, festive cookie, perfect for the holidays).

Here are the ingredients you’ll need to make Tavis’s Ricotta Cookies (yields 96 cookies).
For the cookie: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees, and in a medium bowl cream together: ½ pound of softened butter, 1 ¾ cup white sugar, 2 eggs, 15 ounces of ricotta cheese, and 2 tablespoons of vanilla extract.

In a separate bowl, combine 4 cups all-purpose flour, 1 teaspoon baking powder, 1 teaspoon baking soda. Blend into the creamed mixture.

The next step says to roll the dough into teaspoon-sized balls, and arrange on an ungreased cookie sheet, but the dough is hard to work with at this point. It’s a little sticky:
Instead, roll up the dough in a few pieces of plastic wrap, and refrigerate for an hour or so.
It’ll make it much easier to get to this point:
Bake each sheet 8-10 minutes, until lightly browned.

For the topping: In a small bowl, beat 5 tablespoons milk, 1 ½ cups confectioners’ sugar, and 1 teaspoon almond extract until smooth. Spoon the mixture over the warm cookies, and add colored candy sprinkles.
And voila! Check out these manly cookies:
Thanks Tavis for your help last week. It was deeply appreciated.

Rangoli Indian Cuisine: Off the Hookah

2009-11-09T22:02:00.006-05:00

Why, what’s this? Could it be… a blog entry?

I’m back everybody! Sorry it’s been so quiet over here. My 8-5:00 has been more like a 6-7:00 this past week, and the focus has been getting that work done for quite some time. However, to celebrate the end of a hectic week, I got the peeps together Saturday evening for what turned out to be just about the coolest get-together ever. All I can say is, my apologies for not alerting you of this event ahead of time. Because this was a classy affair: unbelievably entertaining and an insanely good value.

The venue was Rangoli Indian Cuisine in New Rochelle. I’m always up for Indian, but the restaurant was having a special affair to commemorate Diwali (an Indian holiday celebrating the festival of lights). For $50 per person, guests got to experience: an Indian buffet, open bar, bellydancing, live Sitar and Tabla music, and a bazaar downstairs offering Henna tattooing, Indian jewelry and clothing. The event was brought to my attention by my bellydancing instructor Bina (yep, you heard that right …and we’re moving on), who said she would be performing.

So, while the event has passed, and I realize some of you might’ve appreciated a heads-up as opposed to a re-cap, I’ll try to paint an accurate picture of what we experienced, and be sure to post the next event when it is announced. (I’m told Rangoli hosts live events often).

I arrived at the restaurant at 7:00 p.m. with friend Todd and bellydancing partner-in-crime Tia. There we met my brother Bill and his girlfriend Lori, and friends Erin, Pete, Christina and Chuck. A table had been reserved for our party in a festive-looking dining room, but the real action of the hour was happening at the open bar. Yes! Open bar! $50 per person was the golden ticket to Indian apps, buffet, live entertainment, culture, and ah-ah ah-ah ah-al-co-hol. Of the copious amounts of beverages consumed that evening were: Jack and Coke, Seven and Seven (both were very strong), good quality Pinot, Kingfisher, Heineken …. and cranberry juice for the designated driver. Next to the bar was a generous portion of appetizers, none very recognizable to me. There was a tandoori-looking chicken that was bright green in color instead of red, some type of cake made from grits, something resembling sausage, steamed lentil cakes, and an assortment of chutneys and sauces. Everything was quite tasty.

After a few rounds of drinks and more finger food than necessary, a group of us wandered downstairs to scope out the bazaar. Lovely clothing and jewelry were on hand, but I was immediately drawn to the Henna. I pointed to an intricate design and asked the woman behind the table how much and long it would take to paint. “Ten dollars,” she said. “And only about five minutes.” My girlfriends and I exclaimed over the deal and we all agreed to get tattoos. Sisters forever! I sat down first, and the woman began applying henna paste to my hand using a device similar to an icing tube. Within minutes, a lovely floral pattern emerged. But I was confused. The henna sat on my skin like little raised dots. The woman saw my expression. “Leave it on for about 20 minutes, and then rinse your hand with water,” she explained. “It will be dyed underneath.”

I eyed the delicate, wet dots. “Good luck trying to eat tonight,” I thought to myself sadly, but cheered when the woman added a few more swirls. My girlfriends began to shift uncomfortably, also thinking how difficult it would be to eat. As if on cue, we heard the host upstairs introduce the bellydancers; the excuses followed soon after, then a mass exodus of sisters sans tattoo went up to the dining room.

So whatever: I was the only one with a beautiful semi-permanent Henna tattoo. Monte from the mailroom made me feel a lot better about it at work two days later. (“Good Lord!” he exclaimed when he dropped off the mail. “What happened to your hand?” I told him. “It …looks kind of gross,” he said and then walked away.)

Anyhoo, I rushed back upstairs shortly after my tattoo-less sisters, and took my seat just in the nick of time to see the beautiful and mesmerizing Bina dramatically emerge in full bellydancing garb and Isis Wings.

Talk about a performer. Every eye in the house was on Bina. Watching her dance was reason enough to visit Rangoli. She moved in and out of tables with energy and spirit, captivating and inspiring all. Later, two of Bina’s students joined her on the dance floor.

“This is awesome,” Pete said, smiling from ear to ear, recording every second with his cell phone. “Todd, duck down,” he said, positioning his phone over Todd’s head to get a better view of undulating torsos. I noticed a growing crowd of people outside the restaurant, hands cupped to the window, also trying to get a glimpse of the show.

Then I noticed one of the dancers move toward me. But her hands were outstretched in a beckoning-motion.

Before I even had a chance to panic, I was swaying back and forth with the dancers on the floor, moving to the music, amidst cheers and encouragement from my friends. Next it was Todd’s turn to bust some crowd-pleasing moves, then Lori and Christina’s, followed by other diners who were more than happy to be coerced onto the dance floor. It was amusing to see some of the more timid and reserved-looking guests boogie down. Open bar must’ve really helped with inhibitions because there wasn’t a wet blanket in the room. Just happy, slightly glassy-eyed faces.

Still, the star of the show was unequivocally Bina. There was veil work, there was a cane, there was a sword. That she balanced on her torso. Unbelievable.

“Pete,” Erin said, nudging her fiancé. “Can we come here for my birthday?”

“Absolutely,” he said, still recording. “It’s better and cheaper than Atlantic City.”

After the dancing portion of the evening, the buffet opened. While I realize that this here is a food blog, there was just too much going on to take pictures or really take note of what I was eating. And it all moved fast—by the time I got to the buffet table, the naan was gone, and shrimp and lamb had been strip-mined out of two main dishes (if you were patient enough to wait, all was replenished). I remember enjoying the chicken tikka masala very much, and exclaiming in joy when I saw a bowl of galub jamon balls for dessert.

The restaurant was also very warm, and there was only a small pitcher of water for our table of nine. Factor in alcohol, spicy, unfamiliar food, and our rowdy bunch soon got very quiet.

“My stomach’s angry,” Pete murmured, taking a bite of eggplant.

“Mine too,” said Todd. He loaded his fork full of spicy lentils. “Let’s see if these help.”

Naan somehow found its way to our table, which was wonderful. I also loaded up on a dish that resembled Paneer Saag, but contained baby corn instead of paneer cheese, which was a bit of a disappointment. Still, the food ranged to good to very good, and made me want to come back to Rangoli and have a proper dinner.

Live Sitar and Tabla music carried us through the rest of the evening, as did the restaurant’s extremely gracious hosts. It wasn’t until very late at night that we left the restaurant, tired, full, and exceedingly satisfied.

I was amazed at the care and consideration that went into planning such a special evening. And the value was unmatched. A gratuity was added to our bill (despite the self-service buffet) to make the total about $65 per person, yet I still found the amount under-priced for what we experienced.

I hope to see you at the next celebration!

Rangoli Indian Cuisine
615 Main Street
New Rochelle, NY 10801
(914) 235-1306

Goldfish: a $15 Lure

2009-10-25T16:56:00.020-04:00

What do you make of a place that charges $15 for a three-course dinner, with selections that include scallops and New York Strip steak? Can it be taken seriously? Is there a catch?

The short answer is yes, Goldfish Oyster Bar and Restaurant in Ossining can be taken seriously, and no, there’s no discernible catch: a three-course meal really is $15, Monday through Wednesday night (prices are higher for the rest of the week). And plenty of my food was actually quite good.

Goldfish was brought to my attention by my friend Fran, who was ready to celebrate her latest birthday. For the past few years, the tradition in our core group of five fun-loving gals has been treating the birthday girl to dinner, then splitting the bill amongst the remaining four of us (it’s not rocket science). Our group, however, was temporarily down two of its members (Roisin is a brand new mommy (yay, Roisin!) and Katy is on her way to becoming “Dr. Katy” up in Boston), so for the time being, it was up to Fran, lifelong partner-in-crime Danielle and myself to keep our birthday dinner ritual alive and fabulous. Fran, ever mindful of the bill now being split between two financially-strapped Westchester souls instead of four, declared Goldfish the perfect economic solution.

That’s how I found myself behind the Arcadian Shopping Center off Route 9 on Tuesday night, immediately after work. I arrived at 6:00 p.m., parking in a small lot across the street, which looked very much like a residential street, the restaurant looking very much like a residential house.

Inside, the restaurant is warm, somewhat noisy but inviting. There is a second floor overlooking the downstairs dining room and kitchen (I think there was a wedding reception up there. On a Tuesday), and downstairs, the vibe is somewhere between family friendly dining, and upscale diner. Tables are packed closely together, and there is a countertop where patrons can eat facing the open kitchen. The crowd ranges from younger strapped-for-cash 20 and 30-somethings, to families, to (the dominant demographic on our night) seniors. All seemed happy.

The prix-fixe menu is extensive, with some ambitious offerings.

Check out our appetizers:

I got the Smoked Salmon Platter:
There’s a lot of salmon here! In fact, I received more salmon at Goldfish (and good quality) than I have at other restaurants that charged a whole lot more. Nothing fancy, but delectable.

Danielle got the New England Clam Chowder:
I didn’t try this, but Danielle was very satisfied. She said the soup was creamy, chunky, and the portion was just right.

Fran got Mussels sautéed in a garlic lemon broth
I thought the portion looked generous, but Fran said she remembered it being larger the first time she ate at Goldfish. She was still pleased, though.

For entrees, I ordered the Seared Sea Scallops
Grilled asparagus, herbed potato cake, and Vin Cotto glaze:
Scallop fail. The portion was nicely sized (there were three large scallops) and I did like the taste and presentation of the herbed potato cake (in the back, on the left). But while the scallops looked like they had a decent sear, there was no texture on the outside, so it was kind of like eating… flan. Which isn’t a good thing. Maybe they were undercooked? Which is also not a good thing. The vegetables were well-seasoned and garlicky, but the Vin Cotto glaze might’ve been too sweet for the scallops. This was a disappointment, yet I still feel like I got my $5 worth (how can you lose, really?) because I devoured the potato and the vegetables.

Danielle ordered the Grilled New York Strip Steak
Grilled asparagus (she substituted asparagus for the spinach), another potato cake, and a port wine mushroom sauce:
You can see from the picture that the portion is again pretty substantial for a five note. Yet Danielle being Danielle ordered her steak well done (“extremely well done, No blood at all!”), so it was hard for me to judge the quality and texture of the meat. I will say that for an “extremely well done” order, the meat was pretty tender. And the sauce was good. It kind of reminded me of beef stroganoff. Maybe not a good thing if you’re looking for NY Strip, but I sure am a fan of stroganoff.

Fran’s looks the worst. She got the Cappellini alla Salmone
Arugala, fresh tomato with a light lemon garlic broth:
It actually tasted good once Fran mixed it all together. The presentation was awful. All of the sauce was in the bottom of her bowl, and it looks like dry pasta was added as an afterthought, heaped on top with no seasoning whatsoever. The salmon did look tender and moist once we uncovered it under the pasta, but I thought this was the most inexcusable entrée.

For dessert, the portions were much smaller, yet very delicious:

I ordered the Ricotta Fritters:
The presentation could use some work (that’s a big ol bowl for a spoonful of lemon dipping sauce), but the fritters were scrumptious. They reminded me of the fried donuts you get at Chinese buffets, but the ricotta filling classed it up a little.

Danielle got the New York Style Cheesecake:
I didn’t want to try this because the portion was so small, but Danielle made it a point of telling me over and over and over how good it was.

Fran ordered the Butterscotch Pot De Crème:
This was lovely. Light and sweet, but not too sweet.

In short, old chaps, we got along swimmingly for the evening (you see what I did there? A little Goldfish humor). You can’t beat the value, and even though there were some hiccups during the entrée portion of our night, for the price, and for the selection available, I would heartily recommend Goldfish as a Monday through Wednesday meet up. Just as we discovered some gems in the appetizer and dessert section of the menu, I’m sure there are standouts under the entrée section waiting to be unearthed. And I have no problem forking over $5 until I find them.

Goldfish Oyster Bar and Restaurant
6 Rockledge Ave
Ossining, NY 10562
(914) 762-0051

Co. (Company)

2009-10-18T23:04:00.058-04:00

Things haven’t been so good over at The Good Life this past week. Thankfully, I’ve got the best friends and family in the world, fall foliage that is begging to be photographed, mad poker skillz, drumming precision at Rock Band, and Top Chef to keep me warm Wednesday nights (Restaurant Wars this week, people!). In short, I’ve got a lot going on, so it’s best to keep the writing positive. Take now, for instance: as I type, I am enjoying a Boylan’s Black Cherry soda. It’s terrific! Oh, and also, there’s my college buddy Eileen, who will be turning 30 next month.

Because Eileen is my biggest foodie friend, it’s almost impossible for us to meet up in Manhattan without blowing a small fortune. We both adore the New York restaurant scene and view our get-togethers as precious opportunities to try hip, delicious places. In the past year alone we’ve conquered: Artisanal, Perilla, Anthos, Pearl Oyster Bar, and Corton.

For the past three months, I’ve been waiting to phone Eleven Madison Park in the hopes of scoring a table for Eileen’s big day. To make it until the end of November however, a quick fix was needed. The challenge was for Eileen and me to meet up before EMP, keep our bill under $75, and still make the destination fabulous.

Enter Co. (Company): Jim Lahey’s much-anticipated “gourmet” pizzeria in Chelsea, buzz factor made stronger by all that mouth-watering bread he’s been serving at Sullivan Street Bakery.

Co. is soooo the happening scene right now. It’s got a minimalist décor—long tables, warm wood, and sleek mirrors. It’s actually reminiscent of a sushi bar, yet the ambience is so full of life and energy and hipsters, I don’t think it’ll never be mistaken for anything other than a pizza joint.

When Eileen and I walked in Thursday night, the place was packed. I squeezed past models, college students, and a professor-looking fellow sporting a beret, to ask about the wait. Despite the crowds, the hostess was able to fit us in almost immediately, probably because we were the only party of two waiting (that or my blog is becoming stronger and more powerful than I could ever imagine).

To start, we ordered two salads.

Escarole ($7):
Bread crumbs, capers, anchovies, lemon and olive oil
Radicchio ($7):
Shiitake, taleggio cheese, balsamic and olive oil
Both salads were extremely fresh, a recurring theme for the night. My escarole had such a light, citrusy flavor, not at all weighed down by the anchovies or bread crumbs. Eileen’s radicchio had a snap, the shiitake mushrooms were firm and earthy—my only complaint was that they were a little stingy with the taleggio. I think there were only four cubes.

But who comes to Co. for salads? Let’s talk pizza.

Here is the Popeye ($17):
Pecorino, Gruyere and Buffalo Mozzarrella, spinach, black pepper, and garlic.
And the Stracciatella ($17):
Crushed tomato, black pepper, stracciatella cheese, and arugala.
Our server talked us into the Straciatella, saying it was Co.’s signature pizza—sort of like their version of the Margherita (although they’ve got a Margherita on the menu, too). I was most impressed by how fresh everything was. The arugala tasted as if it had just been picked—peppery and remarkably light, the straciatella (a mixture of mozzarella and cream) created complexity and decadence without weighing the pizza down, and the tomatoes were plump and flavorful. The crust was thicker than I expected—it almost reminded me of a Sicilian—yet it’s way more airy and chewy. My only complaint was that the edges were burnt (charred) in some places. This didn’t seem right for a $17 individual pie.

The Popeye was a great companion. While the Straciatella was light and fresh, the Popeye tasted heavier and more complex. Same crust-action going on (including more burnt edges—c’mon guys), and the combination of cheeses gave a pleasant saltiness. The spinach was masterfully cooked: you could taste the olive oil and garlic, but there was still a crunch and freshness to it. One pie wasn’t better than the other; they were just very different, in all the right ways.

Dessert was pretty lame. Eileen got the Chocolate Breadcrumb Torte ($6):
It could’ve been denser. It actually tasted a little stale.

And I got a small cup of praline gelato ($3):
Meh. It was fine. I put it in my coffee.

Our total for the night was $69.68 (Cokes, coffees, salads and dessert add up). With tip, we blew our $75 goal. But we didn’t really mind. We hung out until almost 10 p.m., had some really great pie (next time, I’d skip the salad and the dessert and get three pies), and soaked up the atmosphere.

A word about the service: incredibly friendly, and once you’re in, you’re in. You won’t be rushed. However, visits to our table were sporadic. Eileen didn’t receive a separate glass for her Coke, and we waited quite a bit for our server to take our dessert orders. If we were in a rush, this could’ve been really annoying, yet that night, I found it refreshing to just sit back and linger.

Co. (Company)
230 9th Ave (at 24th St)
New York, NY 10001
(212) 243-1105

San Soo Kap San: Real Deal Korean

2009-10-13T07:45:00.015-04:00

Late Saturday morning, while checking my online accounts, I came across a Tweet from my friend Bryant announcing he was going to our favorite Korean BBQ restaurant of all time, San Soo Kap San in Downtown Flushing. “Did my invite get lost in the mail?” I tweeted in reply. “I’ve got nothing going on today except a jones for Korean!” Sadly, Bryant’s tweet had been published 40 minutes prior to my reading, so I figured my reply was hitting nothing but digital ether. Around 11:40, my phone rang. Could I be ready in 20 minutes, asked a still-in-his-apartment-Bryant? If so, him, his wife Karen, and their friend David would be more than happy to swing by. “But if you’re not waiting outside when we get there, we’re all coming in,” he warned. I looked down. I was still in my pajamas. “I can do it!” I said more to myself than to Bryant as I had already hung up the phone and was throwing together an outfit.

A little after twelve, not only was I ready, I had had time grab a bottle of Riesling for the party kind enough to pick me up, and send out one last Tweet: “Guilt trip worked! I’m going too!”

Fast forward to San Soo Kap San, the place of tiny miracles, also known as banchan, dishes which litter diners’ tables before any actual ordered food arrives (think tapas… but free).

There was octopus in a red, tangy sauce; pickled baby bok choy; three types of kimchi in varying degrees of hotness (my favorite was the slightly sweet variety with pickled daikon); red bean rice; some sort of thread-like yellow substance with an intense flavor similar to dried squid; two whole smoked mackerel (heads and all), agar slabs with sesame soy sauce; oh, and one thing that no one ate: raw crab still in its shell with a fiery red sauce on top. It pained me not to try this dish because I love trying new things, but sadly, I couldn’t figure out how to eat this lil critter. I couldn’t break the crab without getting all the hot red goo on my hands, and when I finally did manage to pry a leg open, a smidgen of gelatinous crab gut oozed out. And this smidgen was not chopstick-friendly. Instead, it kind of just hung out on my plate and looked nasty.

What did we actually order? There were pan-fried dumplings similar to Japanese gyoza:
Rice cake soup:
This is one of my favorite comfort foods—miso broth, pork, scallions, and oval-shaped gummy treasures of rice, which don’t have much of a taste, just a pleasant, chewy texture.

David also insisted on a bowl of bibimbap:
Warm white rice, seaweed, enoki mushrooms, shiitake, bellflower root, burdock root, squash, some other unidentifiable stuff, all topped with a raw egg (it cooks when you add it to the steaming mixture), and sprinkled with a chili pepper mixture. A fine choice.

To cook over the gas grill were orders of Bulgogi (a thinly-sliced beef):
Pork:
... and butterflied shrimp, all delightfully seasoned with soy sauce, sugar, garlic, and a bit of rice wine vinegar. These proteins can be cooked and eaten straight up or placed on provided lettuce wraps, which are then lined with any or all of the following: fermented soybean dressing, pickled daikon, garlic, and hot peppers. The grill-action is sublime. None of us are strangers to the bulgogii or pork (the bulgogii is cooked first, everyone promptly declares it sensational, but then the pork comes out, and suddenly everyone remembers that the pork sooooo trumps the bulgogii). This time, however, Karen’s wildcard-order of shrimp usurped just about everything on the table. Perfectly grilled, incredibly succulent—‘twas sensational.

To drink is complimentary barley tea. It’s heartier and nuttier than (but slightly reminiscent of) genmaicha (green tea with the little pieces of popcorn and brown rice). For dessert: standard orange slices.

Here’s some additional banchan on San Soo: the joint is open 24-hours, which makes it an ideal stop for hungry cabbies or the late-night snack attack; the atmosphere is pretty basic (this is not a place you frequent for ambience); the menu is difficult to read, made all the more tricky by servers who speak limited English; parking is a beeeatch—there’s a big lot across the street, but good luck finding a spot or deciphering the color-coded spots; prices are refreshingly cheap (we ordered a massive amount of food and the bill for our table-of-four was about $90); and the surrounding area is great for exploring candy shops, bubble tea, and Asian specialty stores.

If the above sounds intriguing, and you’re looking for real-deal-Holyfield Korean, give San Soo Kap San a shot. Heck, the worst that could happen is you will get utterly and completely lost in Flushing, have no clue as to where to park if you actually find the garage, experience a Lost in Translation moment if you make it to the restaurant, and then end up with plate after plate raw, gray, gelatinous crab.

But really: it’s fabulous.

(Special thanks to David for deciphering some of the stuff we ate!)

San Soo Kap San
38-13 Union St
Flushing, NY 11354
(718) 445-1165

Morton’s The Steakhouse

2009-09-28T17:47:00.023-04:00

Saturday night, my mom, my brother Bill and Bill’s girlfriend Lori took advantage of Morton’s $49.99 steak and seafood dinner in White Plains. Suffice it to say, we had a smashing time, but that might’ve had more to do with the fact that we are a bunch of fun, crazy peeps than anything stellar going on with the service.

Because service was bad: our servers were extremely aggressive and pushed multiple items from the regular menu even though we specifically requested the $49.99 menu ahead of time. And even though we asked for the menu once again upon being seated, our server still felt the need to wheel over a cart and do a five-minute spiel, which involved slowly and deliberately showcasing each cut of meat, lovingly caressing a few potatoes and tomatoes, and completely unnecessarily picking up a wriggly Maine lobster. By the end, Bill and Lori (who had still not seen the $49 menu), were utterly confused and overwhelmed as to what they could and couldn’t order to stay in the $49 set price. There was a lot of, “You could do this, but for an extra $19, you could do this…,” and “Then there’s this, which is an additional $24…” and some roundabout answers. After her spiel, our server left us with regular menus that made no mention of the steak and seafood dinner. When we asked for the special menus again, she disappeared, and came back with two tiny cards for our table of four: all that she could find, she explained.

The timing was really bad, too. Not the actual arrival of courses (this was well-paced), rather, we were constantly being interrupted in such a way where there was no regard for what was going on at our table. “Can I refill that cranberry juice for you?” a server asked three times of my half-full glass, each time interrupting me mid-conversation. Finally, a different server just took the same half-full glass without asking. But took it to clear it, not refill it. The worst and most uncomfortable moment came after dinner. Even though our table had already ordered desserts at the beginning of the meal, the dessert cart was wheeled in and our server once again laboriously began describing each dish. My mom and my brother did not see her appear and were still mid-conversation. Our server, undeterred, just talked a mili-decibel louder. I kicked my mom under the table, and she looked up, genuinely surprised and confused to see our server describing a berry plate.

“Miss?” I said hesitantly. “We already ordered desserts.”

She paused.

“Oh, I know. I was just showing you these for next time.” A carrot cake description commenced.

When she was finished, she gave a little nod, and wheeled the cart away. Our table sat in silence.

“That was weird,” my brother said finally.

“Weird” is a good way to describe the night as a whole. Although service was bad (made all the worse when you are marketing yourself as a high-end steakhouse with premium prices), “bad” certainly was not the case for the food.

Although stellar wasn’t the word, either.

We’ll start with the complimentary bread, a poofy, warm onion loaf:
This was bloody fantastic. Sounds like a bit of a dig to say the bread was one of the more memorable things I ate that night, but all I’m trying to say is that I really, really, really liked this bread. It could win an award.

Next were four Morton’s salads:
Iceberg lettuce, creamy Caesar dressing, anchovies and chopped egg. What’s not to love? (Well, normally, I’m not a fan of Iceberg, but here it was refreshing and crisp.) And anchovies and eggs? And lots of Caesar dressing, so that each piece of lettuce is blanketed in dressing yet still crisp? Mmmmmm…

Next came our single cut filets, accompanied by a choice of seafood:

First, the crabcake:
I didn’t try this, but Lori said it actually had a lot of crab, so she was satisfied.

The bacon-wrapped scallop:
I stole a piece from Bill and this was the winner. The scallops were extremely tender and juicy, and nicely seared on the outside.

…and the Colossal Shrimp Alexander:
Pretty good. But the shrimp was actually… stringy? Could a vein have been left in? How is a shrimp stringy? I don’t know.

Here’s the best picture I could get of my single-cut filet:
I know, the pic isn’t a winner, but alas, neither was the filet. It was certainly very tender, but there was not a lot of flavor, and no one at the table found it particularly memorable.

The $49 menu had said that “sides” were either a potato or a vegetable, yet once we arrived, the server informed us that anything off of the regular “side” menu was fair game.

My mom and I had mapped out our battle plan ahead of time, which involved my mom ordering the potato and splitting it with me, while I would cut my steamed vegetable in half, and share it with her. In a fit of excitement, I went rogue and ordered the creamed spinach:
But the joke was on me, because the creamed spinach was not my favorite. Is was too creamy, not salty enough, and tasted of too much nutmeg.

My mom still split her Jumbo-baked Idaho potato with me because she is the best. But to get me back, she cut it in half and began eating it before I had taken a suitable picture:
The potato is very good at Morton’s. What I didn’t appreciate was the tiny, spoonful of sour cream the server plopped on the massive potato, meant to last us the whole potato. Why not leave the sour cream on the table?

Here is an artful picture of the grilled asparagus, taken by Lori:
Our server warned us that the asparagus was prepared with a balsamic vinegar glaze, but the glaze hadn’t been reduced enough. It was still very vinegary, not very sweet, and as a result, no one really liked this dish.

Dessert was way more delicious, and accompanied by outstanding Douwe Egbert’s coffee.

Morton’s Legendary Hot Chocolate Cake is absolutely deserving of its name. Normally, I’m not a big fan of chocolate cake, much preferring a pie or a pastry, yet this cake is wonderful. The chocolate oozes out of the center when you cut into it, it’s moist, it’s gooey—I would order it again in a heartbeat.
But when would I order it again? Morton’s is expensive. The food was fine for the price we paid —our final bill was a little over $70 per person (with tax and tip) because we ordered the promotion. But on a normal night, I’d be surprised if you could have a meal for less than $100. And then I’d start scrutinizing my dishes even more. “Fine” won’t cut it when I’m paying such a premium. And then there’s the service. We might’ve had a totally different experience with a considerate, more personable server. But nothing about Morton’s service set it apart, rather, it cast an amateur-hour tint on the evening.

Morton’s The Steakhouse
9 Maple Avenue
White Plains, NY 10605

Chocolate-Chip Cookies

2009-09-21T19:44:00.011-04:00

Let’s call this entry what it really is: good old fashioned stalling for time. I’m behind on my blog, and wanted to give you fellas a little somethin somethin for being so kind as to pay me a visit. So, while I baked my favorite chocolate chip cookies this weekend, I snapped a few pictures and voila! Bloggin gold, baby.

No, in all seriousness, these are good cookies. They come from Kathleen’s Bake Shop, the same cookbook that gave you Blueberry Buckle, my most popular blog entry ever. And who doesn’t need a bangin recipe for Chocolate-Chip Cookies? These are ultra thin, slightly crisp, and chewy in the center. They are soothing, they are decadent, they will make the guy you are trying to impress go wild when he samples one on the picnic you are packing for him.

Right.

Onto the cookies.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and grease your cookie sheets (this recipe yields about 50 cookies).

In a large bowl, mix 2 cups all-purpose flour, 1 teaspoon baking soda, and 1 teaspoon salt.

In another large bowl, cream 1 cup of butter and ¾ cup granulated sugar and ¾ cup firmly packed dark-brown sugar. Add 1 teaspoon water and 1 teaspoon vanilla extract, and mix until just combined. Add 2 eggs. Stir in the previous flour mixture. Fold in 2 cups semisweet chocolate chips, but “don’t overmix!” Kathleen cautions.

Place batter onto greased cookie sheets leaving at least 2 inches of room between the cookies.
Bake for 12 minutes, or until the edges and center of the cookie are brown. Cool on a wire rack.

...and then stack them up like so, just because it’s fun:
Enjoy!

Blogs TK!

2009-09-17T21:50:00.015-04:00

Sorry for the lack of posts this month. I very much want to take this blog seriously and update regularly, yet sometimes my 8-5:00 gets in the way, as does the ol’ social life. Hope to write up some delicious dinners very soon: Dinosaur Bar-B-Q in Harlem, Morton’s Steakhouse in White Plains. I also did a cursory visit to NEO World Bistro and Sushi Bar in Mount Kisco and posted a quick ditty on a Chowhound thread, but hope to re-visit the restaurant and do a longer entry on the blog. Also, Eileen’s been twisting my arm (ha!) for another fine dining experience in Manhattan. So that’s coming up, too.

In the meantime: just got back from an impromptu girls-night-out at The Cookery in Dobbs Ferry, and it is still on over there. As Victoria Beckham would say, it’s “mayjah.” The crostino is still superb (better than Locanda Verde’s), the pasta is still homemade and decadent, the specials are creative and seasonal. Tonight, there was a smoky rigatoni with butternut squash and ricotta cheese that made me want to apprentice for Chef Dave DiBari just so I could have easy access to this dish. In addition, there was a pizzette with figs, prosciutto and fontina, quite possibly the most wonderful combination in the world. A sinfully decadent Banana Nutella Martini accompanied (and surpassed) already delicious desserts. “I love this place,” I declared to my girlfriends, over and over and over.

Yesterday, I was treated to a real treashah! in Irvington: Broadway Grill, a local dive bar serving up the best sweet potato fries I’ve had, and some really flavorful burgers. I don’t recall the name of the burger I liked most, but there was Cajun seasoning in the patty, and they piled coleslaw on top. The bun was nice and toasted, but all I could think was, “Why don’t more places put coleslaw on burgers?” Thanks, hot scientist: it was a good find.

Finally, I know I promised a while back that I would be blogging my thoughts on Top Chef this season. This hasn’t happened yet. I’ve just been short on time. Also, I’m completely intimidated to say anything when Max Silvestri is covering it so eloquently and hilariously on Eater. I read his stuff, laugh until everything hurts, then scratch my head and wonder if there’s anything left to say...

...other than Top 3 are of course: Bryan, Jen and Kevin. (Brother Mike V. could sneak in if anyone effs up.)

So that’s it. Hope to get cracking this weekend on some outstanding entries.

The Cookery
39 Chestnut Street
Dobbs Ferry, NY 10522
(914) 305-2336

Broadway Grill
8 S Broadway # A
Irvington, NY 10533-2291
(914) 478-1583

Great Deal at Morton’s The Steakhouse in White Plains

2009-09-10T20:29:00.004-04:00

I don’t normally post/keep up with all the press releases, but this is a pretty choice deal. I would’ve preferred to post this along with a report of my experience, but my reservation is for later in the month, and the offer ends at the end of September, so I wanted to give everyone a chance to capitalize on this themselves instead of read about what I ate, say “that sounds good,” but then realize the promotion was over, and think me greedy for hoarding the info, and consequently never come to this blog again reasoning Sharon keeps all the hot deals to herself.

(What I can tell you as far as advance reporting goes, is that I ate at Morton’s once and found the filet fantastic, but I also remember my bill being high, like, close to a gazillion dollars, so I’ve never been back. …until soon.)

Morton’s Steak & Seafood Menu Promotion

Morton’s special steak and seafood dinner, featuring two filet mignons, along with a choice of Morton’s signature seafood, salads and desserts, for $99.99 for two (or ordered per person for $49.99) has been extended through the end of September 30, 2009. The menu promotion includes:

Choice of Any Two Signature Salads

Two Single Cut Filets

Or $58 per person if you select one of the following three steak enhancements:

Double Cut Filet Mignon
Prime Ribeye Steak
Single Cut Prime New York Strip

Choice of Two: Broiled Sea Scallops, Colossal Shrimp Alexander or Jumbo Lump Crab Cake

One Signature Potato & One Fresh Vegetable to Share

Choice of Two: Morton’s Legendary Hot Chocolate Cake or Key Lime Pie

Pair your dinner with a Bottle of 2007 Estancia Pinot Noir, Monterey or 2008 Franciscan Sauvignon Blanc, Napa for an additional $39.

Visit www.mortons.com/steak for more information.

Also (this is Sharon talking again), be sure that when you make your reservation, you specify that you want to take advantage of the Special Steak and Seafood Dinner. The offer is legit, but I believe you need to request it in advance.

Enjoy! Let me know how it is.

Morton’s The Steakhouse
9 Maple Avenue
White Plains, NY
(914) 683-6101

Emma's Ale House

2009-09-04T17:02:00.026-04:00

A very happy pre-Labor Day Weekend to you all! I’m off today. (My job offers two four-day holiday weekends that most other companies do not. In exchange, we work two days during the year while most other places are kicking back. Sometimes I like this arrangement (ie, now); sometimes I do not (the holidays I work)).

To celebrate the start of our four-day holiday, some co-workers and I went to Emma’s Ale House in White Plains yesterday. It was my first visit, but I had been hearing good things. Heather, Ana and I arrived around the same time, shortly followed by Nichole. We were promptly seated in the dining room to the left of Emma’s bar area, and ordered drinks while we waited for the last member of our party, Suzanne.

We sipped beer and chatted, while our stomachs growled. Fifteen minutes went by. “Did Suzanne ditch us?” Heather wondered, glancing at her watch. We had hit some traffic on the way to Emma’s, but this was excessive. We sipped more beer. After about a half hour, Ana fished her cell phone out of her bag to check in with Suze. “Uh oh,” she said, frowning as she looked at her cell. She began to read aloud.

Text number one from Suzanne: “Hey! Where are you guys?”

Text number two from Suzanne: “Did you get stuck in traffic?”

Ana’s eyes widened and she giggled as she read the last text:

“I have a table for us all.”

We looked around the casual dining room. Owner Casey Egan’s Yellow Labrador Emma stared back at us via colorful, illustrated pictures on the walls, but no Suzanne. I craned my neck to peer into the separate bar room. Sitting at a big table was four empty seats, was a very lonely Suzanne, nursing a drink and texting furiously. She looked up at me with surprise.

“…Hi.”

Here are complimentary soft pretzel sticks:
When I reached in for a pretzel, pretty much all of them fell out, littering the table. But they were warm and yeasty, and a nice change from bread.

For appetizers:

Crispy Calamari with Kalamata Olives, Basil, Parmesan, Angry Tomato Sauce ($10):
I don’t know why the tomato sauce was “angry,” but it was a fine sauce. The calamari were also prepared nicely. Light batter, tender calamari. The Kalamata olives were an excellent addition, adding a salty kick. Basil, parmesan added complexity and freshness.

Spinach & Artichoke Dip with Crispy Pita Chips ($8):
The dip was more or less like other spinach dips I’ve had, maybe a little less salty, which I appreciated. The chips were soft and thick, with a slight crunch on the outside.

For entrees, we were all enamored with the 3 Slider option (pick three sliders for $10) under the Burger Bar menu:

I chose the pulled pork with BBQ, meatball parmesan, and filet mignon with gorgonzola and onions (medium rare):
Sadly, the sliders fell short of expectations. Maybe I still had Locanda Verde’s lamb sliders on my mind, but these were disappointing. The filet was properly cooked and very tender, but the hunk of gorgonzola was so overpowering, I didn’t taste the filet. The meatball parm slider had some sort of spice in it—bay leaf?—that completely overwhelmed the meat, and the pulled pork had a sloppy joe thing going on that wasn’t working for me. The buns were a bit too toasted as well; I would’ve preferred them softer.

We ordered two more appetizers to accompany our sliders:

Gedney Chips with Maytag Bleu Cheese, and Truffle Oil ($8):
While the gorgonzola was overpowering in the filet mignon slider, here the blue cheese married nicely with house-made barbecue potato chips. I thought this was a nice dish, yet $8 for potato chips seemed high.

Mac & Cheese with Smoked Bacon, Peas ($9):
Awwww yeah, Emma. Now you’re hittin your stride. This was a crowd pleaser. The cheese was creamy and rich, and not too sharp. Saltiness came from the hunks of smoked bacon, and baked breadcrumbs on top. A surefire winner, with a home-cooked taste.

Finally, for dessert:

A Chocolate Chip Cookie Soufflé:
I only had a bite of this dish. The cookie was a little too dry for me. But maybe I just wasn’t wasting my time or my calories with this when I was completely, over-the-moon in love with…

Krispy Kreme Donut Bread Pudding:
Sinfully sweet and moist, this is potentially one of the best desserts I’ve eaten this year. Wow. You’re basically improving upon an already perfect Krispy Kreme donut, and then adding eggs, heavy cream, brown sugar…all the stuff that makes Sharon happy. The first couple bites are out-of-this-world. Then, the sweetness kind of gets to you, so it’s a nice dish to share.

Overall, this was a nice pub. The food seemed above-par from pubs on Mamaroneck Avenue, and there were some real winners on the menu. I’d be eager to come back and sample some entrees. (I’ve heard the Porcini and Truffle Ravioli is amazing.)

I’d also like to add that I love going out with my co-workers. They are wonderful women who also happen to be teeny tiny. They take a couple bites, and then they say they are full.

... guess who reaps the benefits? muhuhahahahaha.

Emma’s Ale House
68 Gedney Way
White Plains, NY 10605
(914) 683-3662

Locanda Verde: Loco Good

2009-08-30T20:37:00.035-04:00

Last year, I was standing outside of Babbo at 4:45 p.m., anxiously waiting to claim one of six tables that the ever-popular Italian restaurant makes available to guests on a first-come, first serve basis. A few moments later, a girl appeared beside me, also hoping to snag a seat at Mario Batali’s hotspot. This girl, Youngchae, as she introduced herself, can now only be described as my Korean foodie twin (I’m not Korean. But that’s how much we are alike). Youngchae and I bonded over Manhattan hotspots, favorite meals, future dining plans—come to think of it, I don’t think our conversation ever veered outside of New York City cuisine. But we could’ve gabbed for hours. So, when Babbo’s magical doors opened and the maitre d made it known that the restaurant does not seat solo diners in the dining room, it only felt natural to invite Younchae to dine with me and my guest for what turned out to be a four-hour pasta tasting. Since then, we have become email buddies, and she has become one of my most loyal readers and commentators on this here blog. It’s a testament to how food really can bring complete strangers together. Which is one of the reasons I love food as much as I do.

So it was with giddy delight that I read an email from Youngchae in which she announced she would be coming to town once again, and wanted to meet up for a night of culinary debauchery. “For sure!” I said. “You pick the place.” (That’s how much had come to trust Youngchae over the past few months. I knew she wouldn’t steer me wrong.)

Her response: “I’ve been most curious about Locanda Verde as of late, mostly because it’s Ago’s successor.” [Ago. Robert DeNiro’s unanimously-panned Italian restaurant in Tribeca’s Greenwich Hotel. Kind of like the culinary equivalent to Waterworld.]

Once we had made our reservation, the reviews began pouring in: Bruni bestowed Locanda with a solid two-star, Adam Platt called it “Verde Delicious”, and Ed Levine wondered if this family-style Italian restaurant had the best breakfast in New York. Praise for executive chef/James Beard winner Andrew Carmellini (formerly of Café Boulud and A Voce) was plentiful, as were props to multi-talented pastry chef Karen DeMasco (formerly of Craft). It seemed as though we were sitting on the Golden Ticket.

I met up with a super-stylish Youngchae outside of the Greenwich Hotel on a muggy Saturday evening. We were promptly seated in a very comfortable, industrial-looking, dare-I-say “pub” locale. Light poured in through huge window panes and managed to make mostly earth-toned furnishings sparkle.

We shared a chuckle over the bottom of our menu: “Cooking Today: Andrew Carmellini & Luke Ostrom.” It reminded us of Playbill.

Here’s a look at how it went down.

Complimentary focaccia bread:
Very light, with a hint of tomato and olive oil.

For Cicchetti (snacks):

Blue Crab crostino with jalapeno and tomato ($10):
Blue crab is so good when it’s done right, but oftentimes, it can be fishy and artificial-tasting. This crab was unbelievably fresh and sweet, almost creamy, and the kick from the jalapeno paired with it sublimely.

Sheeps’ Milk Ricotta with sea salt and herbs ($11):
I don’t think you can tell from the photo what a generous portion this was. We had a Mt. KiliRicotta on our table. And it was fantastic. Creamy, savory, masterfully seasoned. The Cookery’s ricotta is, however, right up there with Locanda Verde’s.

Fava Bean crostino on prosciutto bread ($7):
“Wait, did we seriously order three crostino dishes?” I asked Youngchae dubiously. I had already stuffed about a whole loaf of bread into my belly. She looked similarly baffled.

“No, no,” the waiter assured us. “This is compliments of the Chef.”

I guess the Chef knows best, because this was, essentially, the booooooooomb. Holy mother of crostino, the flavors paired perfectly: the saltiness of the parmesan and prosciutto, the buttery texture and nutty flavor or the fava bean, I could’ve made a meal out of this dish. Yessssss.

Antipasti:

Grilled Octopus with spicy almond romesco and local fagliolini (green beans) ($17):
The octopus was meaty and tender and nicely charred. Loved the heat. Another favorite.

Lamb Meatball sliders with caprino (goat’s cheese) and cucumber ($12):
The lamb patty was juicy and robust enough to give the dish a gourmet edge, but it was still reminiscent of 2 a.m. bar food. And as insulting as this might be to Chef Carmellini, the bun reminded me of those Red Lobster biscuits (which I adore, so don’t be a hater).

Crispy Artichokes with yogurt and mint ($14):
These were fine and quite pretty, but not particularly memorable.

Youngchae and I only ordered one dish from the Pasta menu, bypassing Secondi altogether:

Maltagliati with pesto and parmigianno-reggiano ($15):
“Maltagliati” means “badly cut” and refers to pasta made from the scraps left over from other pasta dishes. Youngchae was curious about the dish moreso because she thought Pesto was a difficult dish to do well. Pesto wasn’t the problem here. Up to this point, Carmellini had been sending top-quality, perfectly executed dishes our way. But this maltagliati was totally overcooked. Soft, soggy, almost watery. We were dumbfounded, given… you know, pasta is sort of Carmellini’s thing. Nice flavors, but the flavors couldn’t save this.

By the time a dessert menu had been brought out, we were both stuffed. It was 10 p.m. and the restaurant was packed. (The lobby to the ladies room downstairs, however, is quite spacious. Seriously. After I reapplied my lipstick, I did a little dance to Outkast’s “Ms. Jackson” just because I could. Anyhoo...)

Even though dessert seemed preposterous, we badly wanted to sample DeMasco’s sweets. In the end, we shared the Biscotti Misti, a plate of cookies ($8):
Sorry for the poor photo. It was extremely dark at this point. The cookies were nice, and there was a splendid selection, but I’m not a huge biscotti fan. I like gooey, fudgy, moist cookies. This wasn’t the best dish for me to weigh-in on DeMasco’s talents.

No biggie. Aside from the soggy pasta, and the carb overload, there were very few missteps at Locanda Verde, and I will most certainly be going back (and this time, maybe I’ll order less bread!). Service for the evening was efficient (if not a little cold). Food was creative, flavorful, and perfect for sharing. But the best part? Youngchae and I threw caution to the wind and basically ate ourselves stupid. When the bill arrived, we braced ourselves for the damage, yet the total was a very reasonable $47 each. ($47. In Tribeca.)

Needless to say, I was extremely satisfied with our evening, and beyond happy to reunite with Youngchae. (Thanks for the wonderful company, dahling!)

Oh, and I guess Carmellini got sick of hearing critics make fun of his “Porchetta the Way I Like It” (Critics: “I wish it was the way I liked it”). It was nowhere to be found on the menu.

Locanda Verde
377 Greenwich St (corner of Greenwich & North Moore)
New York, NY 10013
(212) 925-3797

What do YOU like to do during a Hurricane?

2009-08-23T22:16:00.012-04:00

Bust out the old barbecue? Me too!

Nah, anyone on the East Coast realizes today was not a day for grilling. Instead, the above picture, Grilled Pork Chops with Peaches, Broccoli Rabe and Balsamic Vinegar, courtesy of the Babbo Cookbook, is one of the recipes I owed you from before I went on vacation (I’m also working on a re-cap of dinner at Locanda Verde). The plate sure is a beauty, if I do say so myself.

Well, to reach such beauty, unfortunately, you have to put up with this the night before:
Can you see all those little specks of… pork carcass?
That, my friends, is brining in action. Mario Batali, aka “the Man,” says in The Babbo Cookbook that brining overnight “will change the way you think about pork chops by making them much more juicy and tender.” What do I say to that? What do I say to anything ol’ Batalls tells me? I say ok.

This is actually quite an easy recipe, one of the simpler in Batali’s cookbook. The pork chops were placed in a Tupperware container, and filled with a pre-mixed: ½ cup of Kosher salt, ¼ cup sugar, and 2 quarts water. The container was then put in the refrigerator for 12 hours (or overnight).

The next day, before I grilled the chops (don’t be alarmed at how ghostly white they look—it’s a byproduct of the brining), I set about making the broccoli rabe. Again, not an arduous task.

I preheated the toaster oven to 400 degrees, and drizzled some olive oil and sprinkled some salt and pepper onto a head of garlic (first removing the first few papery layers of the skin). I wrapped the garlic in aluminum foil and roasted for about 40 minutes.

Once the garlic was out, I separated the cloves and squeezed half of them from their skins into a small bowl (setting aside the remaining unpeeled cloves). Then I added 3 anchovy fillets (rinsed and drained), and mashed the mixture together. (Some of you may have already spotted my affinity for anchovies, but this has nothing to do with my affinity. The Man calls for it. And what do we do when The Man calls for anything? We say ok. Trust me. The anchovies add a nice saltiness and meatiness to the rabe and balance its bitterness. There’s nothing fishy going on here.)

Next, I blanched roughly 1 pound of broccoli rabe (“Blanch” is a fancy word for boiling vegetables (about 3 minutes in this case), and then refreshing them in an ice bath). After the rabe cooled, I drained it, and squeezed it dry on some paper towels. Then I chopped it and set it aside.
Next Batali says to heat a sauté pan with ¼ cup of olive oil (I probably used a little less. And I also used a wok. shhhh). I got the wok very hot, stirred in the garlic and anchovy mixture, and cooked it for 2 minutes. Then I added the chopped broccoli rabe, the remaining unpeeled cloves of garlic, and a pinch of hot red pepper flakes. I sautéed over high heat until the rabe started to brown.
Then I put the whole thing to low, and got back to the pork chops.

I brushed the chops, and some fresh peaches (halved and pitted) with extra virgin olive oil, and seasoned everything with salt and pepper. I placed the pork chops on the hottest part of the grill and cooked for 5 minutes on one side, and then 5 minutes on the other. While the second side of the chops were cooking, I placed the peach halves on the grill and cooked until juicy. (Those pineapples you see were a last-minute addition for a different dish.)
Plating time. I formed a little mound of broccoli rabe on a plate, topped it with one of the lovely (but still white) pork chops, and garnished with the peach halves. Then I drizzled both the pork and peaches with balsamic vinegar, finally giving the pork some color.

What did I think of the chops? Thumbs up. Definitely juicy, and packed with flavor. In hindsight, I only wish I had grilled some unbrined pork chops to compare the two more precisely (I needed a “control” for my scientific method, if you will). In any case, they were a huge success, and super easy. (And quite economical—a terrific gourmet dish to serve at a barbecue.)

Praise Batali.

Now let’s just hope this weather clears up soon, so you can give this recipe a whirl before summer disappears on us.

Top Chef: Westchester Edition!

2009-08-19T19:02:00.037-04:00

It’s the little things in life that make me happy. Such as the premiere of Top Chef: Las Vegas tonight on Bravo, 9/8 Central (if one can even call this a little thing). What does this mean? For the next month or so, I am unavailable Wednesday evenings for anything that doesn’t involve vegging on my couch and drooling over Quickfire dishes (and Tom Colicchio). Friends know better than to call me after 9:00 p.m. these nights. In exchange, I’ll do my best to post wrap-ups/commentary on each episode after the air date.

In celebration of Season 6 (because Season 6 obviously calls for celebration), I organized a little Top Chef Potluck at work today. Co-workers were asked to make a dish, slap a fancy/funny “gourmet” name on it, all in the spirit of competing for the title of Top Chef Westchester (hope Bravo doesn’t sic its legal department on me). The results were great! I was bursting with pride when I saw how much my co-workers embraced this challenge.

Here’s a look at our dishes:

Appetizers:

“Dip… a la seven layer”

“Clam Chowdah”
It’s pretty obvious that this particular individual didn’t actually make the chowder. He was originally going to do a raw bar and shuck oysters himself (which would’ve been awesome), but at the eleventh hour, he realized the potential health risks of serving raw shellfish at the office and shut himself down. ...I guess he made the right decision. But the chowdah was great.

“Deviled Eggs”

“Garlic, Garlic Dip”
I can’t even begin to tell you how garlicky this was. In a good way.

“The finest cured European meats that Julius Caesar himself would rise from his grave for”
We had a Charcuterie plate! How legit are we?

“Pasta Pasta Pasta Salad!”

“Lumpiang Shanghai Dumplings”
This dish ended up taking the Top Chef title in the “Appetizer” category. And for good reason. It was mouth-watering. It’s a mixture of ground chicken (you can use ground pork), carrots, celery and onion. Stir fry the chicken until cooked, add slices of American cheese, one egg, and salt and pepper to taste. Wrap with pastry wrapper and deep fry. The sauce is a sweet chili sauce, but sweet and sour sauce also works.

Entrees:

“El Arroz con la Salchicha” (Spanish rice with sausage)

“Pappardelle with Bolognese”
I took this picture before my co-worker Suzanne added the sauce. She didn’t want to combine the pasta with the sauce the night before--smart girl--because it would’ve made the pappardelle soggy. Instead, her dish was perfect.

“Barley Pilaf with Mushrooms, Red Peppers and Spinach”

“Fiesta Corn Salad”

99.999999999989% Organic Mixed Salad
This was prepared tableside, a nice touch.

“Tacos Sauve Pollo”
Courtesy of co-worker Monte’s visit to Coyote Flaco in Port Chester. Thanks, Monte!

“Sausage and Peppers”
The winner for “Entrees.” What a dish! Diane even brought in her own crock-pot to make sure the temperature was just right.

Desserts:

I made my almond cake. (And by mine, I suppose I mean The Amateur Gourmet’s almond cake. Who took it from Amanda Hesser.)
It came out much better than last time. No problems with the mixer. My only issue was that even with air conditioning, it was about 1000 degrees in my apartment after leaving the oven on for almost an hour in the dead of summer. It’s not the prettiest cake in the world (I had trouble slicing it into small pieces for easy sharing) but I assure you, this cake is foolproof taste-wise.

“Brownies”

“Biscuits de Potiron” (Pumpkin Cookies)

“Plain Old Awesome Cupcakes”

“Take THAT, Cheesecake Factory!” Layered Strawberry Cheesecake
The cheesecake won the Dessert category, and the “All-Time Favorite Dish” category for our whole event. It was stunning (the picture doesn’t do it justice). Stephanie got the recipe here, saying it was super-easy to make. She did mention that the recipe was missing the step to drizzle semi-sweet baker’s chocolate on top: she melted it in the microwave and drizzled it with a spoon. To make the covered strawberries, she melted three more squares of the chocolate, rolled the strawberries in it, and put them on a paper plate in the fridge to harden. She added the strawberries and extra Cool Whip at the last minute.

And there you have it. What a fantastic day, and what a truly amazing group of people to work with. And tallying up the votes-- a hoot! We had co-workers bring in paper plates, cups, soda, etc. When I was going through the nominations, I saw people had scrawled in “Winner” categories for “Fine China” and “Sparkling Beverages.”
Guess they didn’t want to be left out.

I’m Back!

2009-08-15T19:19:00.039-04:00

Did you miss me?

What? You didn’t know I was gone? awwwww….

Well, for anyone who did miss me, or for anyone who wonders where the heck I went, for the past week, I was traipsing around Acadia National Park, Maine. And what a beautiful, glorious kingdom it is! Seafood to your heart’s content, picturesque views at every turn, weather that changes by the minute, and the unforgettable smell of the ocean infusing every breath you take. I’ll share a smattering of photos below, but if you’re interested in non-food related photography of Maine, you can check out additional pictures from my trip here.

But before I share with you my Maine foodie finds, I must comment on what occurred while I was away: Big Man Bruni slapped four stars on Eleven Madison Park!?! For real? No doubt Eleven Madison is one class act, but this here Maine-loving vacationer can’t help but wonder how much this rating has to do with Bruni going out with a bang (before Sam Sifton takes the reigns), as opposed to how much EMP actually deserves those stars. …Is it really up there with Per Se? Le Bernardin? Who knows, very possible, I suppose. Guess I was just surprised to come back to the coveted, four star rating.

Anyway, back to magnificent, wondrous Maine:

After eight solid hours in the car ride up (more like nine with traffic and rest-stops), quaint lobster shacks began to dot Route 3. I really wanted to hold out until I got to Bar Harbor to devour my first lobster, but when I saw this cute little shack in the town of Trenton, I couldn’t resist:
Once I had pulled in and wiped the drool from my mouth, I realized that the shack, the Trenton Bridge Lobster Pound, was the same one recommended by loyal reader and newfound texting buddy Todd (“It’s good, right?” he texted, after my message to him: “Trenton Lobster Pound: THANK YOU”).

It’s good, all right. Like, the freshest, most succulent lobster I’ve ever tasted. Prepared in seawater over wood-fired cookers, and served with melted butter and a soft, doughy roll.
You can eat it outside on a picnic table, and then wash your hands with a garden house before driving off on your merry way.

For breakfast almost each and every morning, it was Jeannie’s on Cottage Street, Bar Harbor, Maine (a good home base for those interested in hiking Acadia).
The cheery yellow walls, the servers who treated us like regulars after only our second visit: it was just a good, welcoming way to start each morning. Breakfast was pretty basic, but the homemade oatmeal bread was first-rate. Served as a side with any breakfast order, or as the French Toast, extra thick, this bread was all kinds of hearty hotness. Also delightful was the bowl of strawberry-rhubarb jam left on each table, perfect for smothering said bread. Seriously. I know everyone talks about the wild Maine blueberries (yes, blueberries were everywhere: in jam, juice, ice cream, growing in the wild, pie), but the strawberry rhubarb jam was the reason we kept coming back to Jeannie’s. I bought two (ahem, one now) jars before I left, but guess what? You can order it too, from Jeannie’s web site! (Be forewarned: it is addicting.)
We also sampled Cafe This Way’s breakfast. Isn’t it adorable?
There were definitely no complaints with my breakfast burrito:
But we had a “where everybody knows your name” thing going on at Jeannie’s. And that’s hard to find on vacation.

The only place to eat once you’re inside the actual National Park is Jordan Pond House.
You’d think that the folks over there would be phoning it in with the monopoly they’ve got, but instead, they’re serving up scrumptious meals in a stunning locale. Not to be missed are the popovers. And you won’t miss them because servers bring you a complimentary basket along with whipped butter and strawberry jam (not as good as Jeannie’s) before your meal. They simply melt in your mouth.
You can have afternoon tea and popovers at Jordan Pond House, but with all the hiking we were doing each day, we had a full lunch on two occasions. The first day was all about the lobster roll:
This was very good. Generous serving of lobster, well-seasoned, served on buttered, toasted bread. Ironically, New York City’s Pearl Oyster Bar still beat out Maine’s Jordan Pond Lobster Roll.

I also tried a cup of the seafood chowder, described on the menu as scallops, shrimp, haddock and potatoes in a creamy broth:
I think you can see from the picture that the soup wasn’t too creamy. The consistency was more watery and oily. And while there were plenty of potatoes and some haddock in there, I don’t think I got a single scallop or shrimp. Still, the flavor was decent. Maybe everything just tastes better when you’re eating outside and looking at this:
Here’s a pic of the wild blueberry crisp:
And the homemade coffee ice cream with Oreos:
Both were enjoyable and refreshing, but not slam dunks.

Afterwards, stroll down to the pond and pick wild blueberries (they’re everywhere, I tell you!), and if you’ve eaten too much, do the three-mile loop around the pond. (It’s a gorgeous, mostly flat walk.)

I had such a jones for fried, full-bellied clams before I went to Maine, perhaps that was the reason I got suckered into the tourist trap Stewman’s Lobster Pound.
The location is suh-weet, right on the wharf, with a stunning outdoor deck overlooking the whale watching boats coming in, and kayakers going out, but perhaps this prime locale is why Stewman’s doesn’t have to try too hard. Our food was just ok. My fried full bellied clams got the job done:
but take a look at these desserts. Here is the “Wild Maine Blueberry Pie”:
This looked/tasted like Entenmann’s.

And the “Very Berry Shortcake” (“Fresh summer berries, fruit coquille, and vanilla bean ice cream”):
I.e.: Sara Lee pound cake, frozen berries, Cool Whip, and Breyers. So disappointing. Especially when we could’ve had ice cream or homemade fudge in town instead.

We saved ice cream for the following day. A local told us the best and most unique flavors came from the famous Mt. Desert Island Ice Cream on Firefly Lane.
“Unique” is an understatement. Ice cream flavors include: chocolate wasabi (it actually works), hot chili chocolate, white Russian, nutella. And a sampling of sorbets (made with fresh fruit): grapefruit tarragon, strawberry champagne, and mojito. I sampled Salt Caramel ice cream dipped in chocolate sprinkles, which was pretty effing wonderful:
However, that night, I had the strangest, Dali-esque dreams I’ve ever had in my entire life. Coincidence? You decide.

Well, I suppose those are the standouts from my trip. I hope this is useful to you if you plan a trip to Acadia (and you should!). And I hope you enjoy my pictures!

So. Any places I should sample now that I’m back in Westchester?

Trenton Bridge Lobster Pound
Route 3 (just before the bridge onto Mt. Desert Island)
1237 Bar Harbor Road
Trenton, Maine 04605

Jeannie’s Breakfast
15 Cottage St
Bar Harbor, ME 04609

Café This Way
14 ½ Mount Desert Street
Bar Harbor, ME 04609

Jordan Pond House
Park Loop Road, Acadia National Park
P.O. Box 24
Bar Harbor, Maine, 04605

Stewman’s Lobster Pound
Rte 3, 35 West Street
Bar Harbor, Maine

Mount Desert Island Ice Cream
7 Firefly Lane
Bar Harbor, Maine

Be Back in a Week!

2009-08-06T19:17:00.003-04:00

Photo by Lord William

No posts, no tweets for a week. Basically, what I said below. Just an excuse to use another gorgeous photo by my brother. I’ve got my itinerary packed away, thanks in large part to Todd, who took the time to e-mail me some amazing suggestions of what to do up north. My favorite part of his e-mail? Climbing the Beehive:

“...there is a spot at the top you can pretend to fall off the mountain but really land on a ledge 6 ft down. Best to do with someone taking a picture because they can’t see the ledge and will think you are a goner.”

Fabulous.

Take care, everybody!

Black Currants: What to Do, What to Do...

2009-08-06T18:54:00.009-04:00

Hey everybody! Thanks for the suggestions and the well wishes for my trip to Acadi a. I’m leaving bright and early this Saturday morning, and hope to tell you all about my lobstah rolls and full bellied clams when I return.

Here’s a little something to remember me by while I’m away: a cautionary tale about black currants.

See, I wasn’t too familiar with these little berries before I started loading them into my bucket at Fishkill Farms a few weeks ago. I merrily picked them from the bushes, sun warming my shoulders, me whistling away, and before you know it, I had just about half a bucket (currants on left, blueberries on right):
It wasn’t until I got back home that I realized half a bucket was half a bucket too many and these little guys were packing some serious potency. “Tart,” “sour”: these are words that don’t even begin to describe the power of the black currant. Nasty is more like it, even if you’re not Ms. Jackson (bah dum bum). That night, I was very tempted to throw my black currants in the garbage.

Instead, I made a type of “crisp,” figuring that sugar and butter would cut the nastiness. I put the currants in four ramekins. Then I took 4 tablespoons of sugar, about 1½ cups of plain flour, ½ cup of butter, ½ cup of brown sugar and ½ teaspoon of cinnamon, and combined all of it in a bowl. I sprinkled the mixture over the ramekins filled with currants, and then put them in the toaster oven for about 30 minutes at 350 degrees.
What’d I think of the finished product? Meh. It wasn’t bad, and the currants didn’t go to waste, but I think it could’ve used more sugar. Or a new recipe altogether. (…or less currants.) Too bad I hadn’t seen this article first. I could see the potential with pork belly.

Does anyone have a go-to, knock-your-socks-off, black currant recipe? I’d like to give it a try before I give up on currants altogether.

Fishkill Farms
9 Fishkill Farm Rd
Hopewell Junction, NY 12533
(845) 897-4377

The Good Life Goes on Vacation!

2009-08-02T20:17:00.003-04:00

Photo credit by Sir William

Can you guess where I’m going based on that beauuuutiful picture taken by my ultra-talented brother, Billy Bob? (Hint: it’s not heaven.)

It’s Acadia National Park, Maine!

I’m leaving this Saturday (August 8th) and will be away from my computer (no blogs, no tweets) for about a week, but before I go, I’m hoping you all can recommend some great places to eat in Bar Harbor or even the drive up/down. Just comment below. I would be particularly indebted to those who pointed me in the very specific direction of a worthy lobster roll, fresh oysters, or fried full-bellied clams.

I’m bringing my camera, so when I return, I hope to share my finds with you, and catch up on some outstanding reports I’ve yet to blog about: a great pork chop recipe from the Babbo cookbook, what to do with blackcurrants (and the answer is not “put them in the garbage”), and dinner with my foodie soulmate Youngchae at Soho hotspot Locanda Verde.

I appreciate your suggestions, and your comments in general!

Why Route 22 Rocks

2009-08-01T20:48:00.010-04:00

Sharon reporting from her mom’s house in Putnam County tonight. Too tired and full to drive back to Westchester.

On the way home from a photo excursion in Amenia today, the strangest thing happened: Even though we were doing a solid 55 mph on Route 22 (or, ahem... whatever the speed limit was), the most wonderful smoky smell wafted into our car. We looked out the window, and there on the side of the street was Big W’s Roadside Bar-B-Q.
The place looked legit. Next to the corner store, we saw a man emerging from an actual smokehouse carrying a large skewer of golden, smoked chickens.
Inside the corner store was smiling and amiable Warren Norstein, the mad scientist behind Big W’s, responsible for heaping portions of pulled chicken, beef brisket, pulled pork, and our poison of preference: spareribs rubbed with dry spices and brown sugar, and slow smoked for hours upon hours in the smokehouse next door.

It was only about 4:00 p.m. and we weren’t that hungry, so we ordered a large (half-slab) portion for $15 to go. It came with two sides: we chose the homemade mac-n-cheese and the woman behind the counter talked us into the smokey beans.

I watched Warren carefully wrap an insane mound of ribs into some heavy-duty aluminum foil.
“That’s a lot of ribs,” I said astutely.

He smiled. After he had loaded it up, he placed two more ribs in a small box. “Here’s two for the road.”

I love that guy. I just met him. But I know love when I see it.

The two ribs for the road didn’t make it to the road. I devoured mine right outside of the store and once we were in the car, I told my mom to step on it so we could get home and eat the rest. Yes. These ribs are fine. Moist and succulent, intricately seasoned and smoky—you could taste the time that went into them.

Before we could get busy eating, there was one more stop to make on Route 22, Kessman Farms, home of Dutchess County Fair Blue-Ribbon prize-winning sweet corn. I didn’t take any pictures of this place because I was napping in the car. But corn was purchased. As were peaches, which we haven’t tried, but look very sweet and juicy.

Later that evening, we reheated the ribs (right in the aluminum foil so they wouldn't dry out) and cooked the corn on the grill.

Here’s my fixed plate:
Delicious. Every last bite. The corn had such a pop to it, and was as sweet as white Jersey corn. The smokey beans, which wouldn’t necessarily have been our first choice if they weren’t recommended, were rich and hearty, with generous slivers of spare ribs mixed in with the beans. The mac-n-cheese tasted very milk-heavy, not at all processed, a little on the plain side if anything, but very satisfying. But those ribs. We couldn’t get enough. Except I suppose we could get enough, because when we were through with our dinners, it looked as if we hadn’t even made a dent in the mountain that remained.

Big W offers sauces: both hot sauce (too hot for me) and a sweet sauce to accompany the ribs. The sweet sauce was good. It almost tasted like there was some alcohol in there, but I think it was the caramelized onions coming through. I don’t think the ribs really needed the sauce, though. They were mighty fine on their own.

Big W’s Roadside Bar-B-Q
1475 Route 22
Wingdale, N.Y.
(845) 832-6200

Kessman Farms
83 Route 22
Pawling, NY
(845) 878-7492

Rraci’s Ristorante: Worth the Trip

2009-07-30T21:14:00.025-04:00

pssssss… do you want to know the best-kept secret in Putnam County? I’ll tell you.

But first, come a little closer.

That’s right, don’t be shy… A little closer…

RRACI’S RISTORANTE IS WORTH THE DRIVE TO BREWSTER FOR SO MANY … Hmmm? What’s that? Please don’t shout? Oh, right, gotcha. Rraci’s Ristorante is worth the drive to Brewster for so many reasons: you’ve got authentic, homemade pasta (I’m loving all these Italian places popping up that are actually making their own pasta), generous portions, stupefyingly creative desserts, reasonable prices, and practiced, ninja-like service. (If anything, go for the ninjas.)

My mom alerted me to the genius taking place at this Italian restaurant after two memorable meals—the first had blown her away, while the second confirmed her initial rating of “excellent.” My mom has high standards when she dines out, so my antennae did a little ping! when I heard her review. Then my dad mentioned celebrating a birthday there (he rarely comments on food, so when he said he really enjoyed his meal, I started to get a little itch). Then, two friends emailed me saying they couldn’t believe I still hadn’t visited. “Enough!” I cried. “Someone take me to Rraci’s!”

My mom didn’t need much of an excuse to return, so a few weeks ago, she brought something up about a “late birthday present” (my birthday was in April), and off we went to Rraci’s.

A preference would’ve been to sit on the private, well-maintained outdoor terrace on the day of our visit, but because weather looked iffy (big surprise considering the summer we’re having), we were seated by a window right next to the patio. Inside, the décor was elegant and dark. Servers floated by, some softly speaking Italian to one another, while Josh Groban sang from the speakers … but this last part has to be filed under “complaints.” My apologies to those who say Josh possesses the voice of an angel, but the music sounded so… produced. I would’ve preferred something more rustic to match Rraci’s traditional setting, like one of those opera recordings where you can still hear the scratches in the record … does that make sense? No? You love Josh Groban? Excellent.

Let’s get to the food:

To start, there was the Malfatti, a house made spinach and ricotta dumpling with light tomato sauce ($10):
It was as soft as a cloud.

Next, there was homemade pasta. My mom had been raving about Rraci’s meats, partly due to the custom-made broiler used to sear the meat at 1500 degrees (a temperature declared perfect for sealing in juices and producing flavorful proteins). But there was homemade pasta on the menu, I worried. What to choose, what to choose?

Rraci’s very thoughtfully offers half-orders of pasta for $10. We were able to share two half-size orders, and then tack on one meat entrée. Take a look:

Half-order of Cavatelli, with sweet Italian sausage, broccoli rabe, and freshly-chopped tomato ($10)
Half-order of Pappardelle, with duck meat ragu in tomato sauce ($10)
And the meat: Costoletta d’Agnello, or, broiled rack of lamb ($28)
Both pastas were exceptionally well-made. And can you believe those are half-sized portions? The cavatelli was the winner. It resembled a light gnocchi.

As for the rack of lamb, look at that generous portion. There are 10 pieces on our plate! 10! The meat was indeed tender and flavorful. While my mom wasn’t disappointed, she did mention that the other times she had ordered the lamb, it had been more seared. I suspect it’s because it sat so long while we were taking our pictures and divvying up the food, and not due to any gaffe in the kitchen.

Service as a whole was accommodating yet unobtrusive, to the point that my mom and I began referring to our servers as ninjas. It wasn’t until my tenth sip of water that I realized my glass was still completely full, yet I hadn’t once seen my server refill my glass. It was particularly remarkable to me because Rraci’s is a very large restaurant that employs a sizeable number of servers. They float about, yet still manage to remain inconspicuous. (Except for one guy who couldn’t be inconspicuous because he reminded me of James Bond.)

For dessert, my mom told me I had to try the Key Lime Pie:
...

“Where’s the Key Lime Pie?” I asked.

I assure you: the pastry chef is not on drugs (that I know of). That alien-looking thing was instead the best Key Lime Pie I have ever tasted. Throw out any preconceived notion of what you think Key Lime Pie is, and let Rraci’s show you what it should be. The meringue is lightly toasted, and the graham cracker crust is a sweet, crumbly suggestion under a refreshingly tart (yet not lip-puckeringly so) key-lime filling.

Then there’s the Ricotta Cheesecake:
This dessert may look less acid-induced than the key-lime—just a cheesecake with a splash of raspberry on the side—but amidst the moist, fluffy ricotta was a hint of something tropical. It took me three bites before I put my finger on it: passion fruit.

Yes.

Go to Rraci’s and be blown away by authentic yet simultaneously innovative cuisine, invisible filling-of-water-glasses magic tricks, and the all-around good times you will experience.

Rraci’s
3670 Route 6
Brewster, NY 10509
(845) 278-6695

Does Jimmy Fallon Now Have His Own Panini at ‘wichcraft?

2009-07-29T21:21:00.011-04:00

(Spoiler Alert) ...no.

However, last night on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, Fallon did call out Macdaddy of the culinary world Tom Colicchio on how he never competes in Top Chef quickfires. Instead, Fallon says, Tom is merely “yelling at people and judging them.” Awesome. Below is a clip from last night’s show, where Fallon and Grand Pooh-bah engage in a 60-second cook-off to see who can create the best panini.

Colicchio goes so far as to put his high-end sandwich chain ‘wichcraft on the line, saying that if Fallon’s panini reigns supreme, he’ll start offering it on the menu. Not bloody likely. But entertaining.

Oh, and yes. Yes, this site is a shrine to Tom Colicchio.

Sharon's Anchovy Pasta

2009-07-27T18:43:00.006-04:00

Today I share with you the first dish I ever learned how to make, and one of my favorite comfort foods. It reminds me of hot summer days when I was a kid, when our whole family would remain outdoors until the sun set, then come in, tired and sweaty, wanting to eat immediately.

The dish is easy, there’s no real recipe, and you’ve probably got all the ingredients in your kitchen right now. (…whoah.)

Do you have garlic, fresh basil and fresh tomatoes? If so, you’re set in terms of fresh ingredients.
(I suspect all of you know what garlic, fresh basil and tomatoes look like. But I’m particularly fond of this photo, so I’m throwing it in.)

Do you have pasta? Any old pasta will do, but I prefer angel hair in this case. What about anchovies? Awwww, don’t make that face. Anchovies are awesome! They add a smooth, salty finish, and fuse with the tomatoes to take away some of the fishiness. And don’t get fancy-schmancy—those $1 tins at the supermarket are fine (I like the flat fillets packed in oil).

OK, you’re ready. Behold...

....Sharon’s Anchovy Pasta! (That’s right Mom, I’m taking all the glory for this one):

Boil angel hair pasta (about a box, maybe a little less). While it is boiling, saute a few cloves of chopped garlic in extra virgin olive oil, then add some chopped tomatoes. Add the pasta, and then add one tin of anchovies (the oil in the tin makes for a nice sauce). Toss until well mixed. I prefer to add two cans of anchovies for the flavor and the oil, but test as you go—two might be too fishy for you (at first). If you don’t want to add two cans of anchovies, just add a little extra extra virgin olive oil so the pasta doesn’t get too dry. Add a few leaves of fresh basil, and sprinkle with freshly ground black pepper. Done!
Give my pasta a try (seriously, carbonara’s got nothing on this dish). And if you don’t like it, what have you wasted? About six minutes of your time and $5 in ingredients? It’s still my go-to dish when I come home late and don’t feel like cooking. And I still crave it when I do feel like cooking.

Aquavit: NYC Restaurant Week, Summer 2009

2009-07-24T20:20:00.034-04:00

Last night, my co-worker Tia and I made our highly-anticipated, first New York City Restaurant Week Summer 2009 voyage. Our destination? Scandinavian “haute” spot Aquavit.

Aquavit’s been on my list for some time. Chef/co-owner Marcus Samuelsson has such an interesting story: born in Ethiopia and orphaned at an early age, he was taken in and raised by a young Swedish couple. It was while observing his grandmother—a professional cook—during his childhood on the West Coast of Sweden, that Samuelsson first developed a passion for Scandinavian cooking. At the tender age of 25, Samuelsson became executive chef of Aquavit, and went on to become the youngest chef to receive a three-star review in The New York Times. He is now a multiple James Beard winner, a noted humanitarian, and über-chef extraordinaire. All hail Samuelsson!

Aquavit made its first appearance on Tia’s list merely two days ago when she learned that the restaurant took its namesake from a Scandinavian liquor, essentially a very strong, spiced vodka, distilled from grain or potatoes, then aged and flavored with different ingredients. “Scandinavian moonshine,” Tia would whisper happily in anticipation whenever she passed by my cubicle.

The restaurant is three areas in one. You’ve got the casual Café upfront; a hip bar/lounge with backlit jugs of Aquavit prominently aligning shelves; and the business-elegant Dining Room in back.

On Thursday night, Tia and I were seated at the back of the Dining Room next to a semi-private table containing a large group of very important-looking, impeccably dressed and extremely beautiful foreigners. Scandinavian royalty, we wondered? Tia caught my eye and discreetly pointed to the most striking fellow, who was deep in conversation with a man standing above him. I followed her gaze. But the man standing above him, with smooth, coffee-colored skin, and warm, kind eyes, was the one who caught my attention. My jaw dropped in delight.

“…That’s Marcus Samuelsson!”

(“So?” some of you may ask. “Samuelsson is the chef—of course he’s gonna be at his own restaurant.” Except not really. Spotting Samuelsson at Aquavit would be akin to running into Anthony Bourdain at Les Halles, Mario Batali at Babbo, or Bobby Flay at Mesa Grill. It just doesn’t really happen that often. These chefs have so many projects, it’s impossible for them to be in the kitchen every night. So we were impressed. And a little giddy.)

Samuelsson disappeared into the kitchen, not to be seen again for the rest of the evening, but I suspect his presence had something to do with the top-notch service we experienced. Cause it was on.

Drinks, of course, were homemade Aquavit. Individual glasses are $7. We opted for a flight of three ($17).
I know I just finished telling you it was on, but, well... it was on in a moment. From left to right you’ve got: the unbelievably nasty Fig & Cardamom, the Nyquil-tasting Lingonberry, and Horseradish (which actually really did taste like horseradish) coupled with what could only be 100 percent pure alcohol.

Safe to say I didn’t enjoy Aquavit the beverage. But I didn’t really expect to like it. I can’t handle hard liquor and if I’m being honest, I don’t enjoy it. I just wanted to try it is all…is that ok with you?

Moments later, a choice of rye, white, or flat bread was offered to us, along with this:
Yep. That’s popcorn. Tia and I stared at it for a moment.

“I guess Erin could’ve come with us after all,” I said thoughtfully, remembering the face our mutual buddy Erin made when I told her we would be sampling seafood (Erin doesn’t do seafood). I popped a few kernels in my mouth.

Crunchy. Buttery. Cheesy. …Popcorn: available at your local movie theater.

Ballsy. I liked it.

The next thing we knew, appetizers from the Restaurant Week menu ($35 for three courses) were placed before us. This was perhaps the one misstep of the evening—I would’ve liked a few more seconds to finish my bread and contemplate that popcorn before we got our first course. I think our servers realized this, and the pacing ceased to be an issue for the rest of the evening.)

First up was the Herring Plate:
And mercy, what a generous plate it was! In the center, you’ve got Västerbotten cheese and boiled potatoes. On the outside, clockwise, starting with the bottom right, you’ve got: curried herring with apple and chives; vodka lime herring with salmon roe and dill; pickled herring with horseradish and black pepper; and matjes herring with red onions and sour cream.

I ordered this because I’m a sucker for samplers, even though I suspected from the get-go that I wasn’t a fan of herring (In my limited experience, I’ve found the pickling to be too powerful.) The first bite of the pickled herring confirmed this. The next three, however, were pleasant surprises, especially the vodka lime. The salmon roe, such a potent flavor, difficult to pair with anything due to its salty and fishy taste, perfectly balanced the pickling. I really enjoyed this dish.

Over on Tia’s side, was Chilled Corn Soup with smoked salmon and beets:
This tasted of summer and sweetness and a hint of the ocean. Again, very enjoyable.

For entrees, I got the Swedish Meatballs with lingonberries, cream sauce, and mashed potatoes:
I’ve been reading some smack online about these meatballs—that IKEA’s are better, that they are too dry. Pure smack is all it is. These meatballs are great! Faintly spiced, incredibly moist. And the mashed potatoes were some of the creamiest I’ve tasted. Perhaps the most amazing aspect about this dish was how deliciously sweet the lingonberries could be here, yet so foul in the Aquavit.)

I was even more impressed with Tia’s dish: Seared Salmon with fennel, tomato vinaigrette, and asparagus:
This dish brought back to mind Samuelsson’s appearance on Top Chef: Season 5, when contestants were asked to prepare a mock “Last Supper” for a panel of superstar chefs (Lidia Bastianich chose roast chicken, Susan Ungaro wanted shrimp scampi, Wylie Dufresne opted for Eggs Benedict, and Jacques Pepin wanted him some squab and peas.) Samuelsson, in typical Norseman fashion, asked the super-talented/super-arrogant Stefan Richter for salmon, spinach and potatoes.

Aquavit’s salmon is served medium-rare. It doesn't look it in the photo, but the middle is sushi rare. The mild-mannered, endearingly polite Samuelsson was probably more disappointed than he let on with Stefan’s overcooked salmon on Season 5, considering how rare Aquavit’s salmon ventures. But it is absolutely exquisite. So unbelievably fresh, not at all fishy, like it was retrieved from the ocean hours before dinner service and rushed to the table. The seasoning was light, the texture velvety—it conjured up childhood memories of frolicking on the beaches of Göteborg without ever setting foot on Swedish sand (I know. It was weird). And that skin —so flavorful and crisp, almost like it was peeled from a rotisserie chicken. Masterful.

Here’s a look at dessert:

Chocolate Mousse with peanut powder and grape sorbet:
Isn’t that a work of art? I wondered why the dish seemed so familiar and soulful, and then it hit me: “It’s a take on peanut butter and jelly!” I exclaimed to Tia. Her face lit up in wonder as if I had just computed Pi to its last digit. (We were both pretty tanked from the Aquavit at this point…. yes, we drank it anyway.)

Tia’s “Artic Circle,” a goat cheese parfait, passion fruit curd and blueberry sorbet:
This was a little sweet for me, but I did appreciate how the tang of the goat cheese balanced the dish. Tia was a huge fan. We took a short rest over dessert, and when a server came to clear our plates, Tia seized her spoon to guard the last bite of melting parfait. The server smiled and kept on walking.

As a treat (and a true Restaurant Week first for me), our waiter returned with two complimentary gift certificates ($24.07 each) toward our next dinner at Aquavit.

Aquavit has been a fixture of Manhattan since 1987. Walking in last night to find a relevant and exciting dining destination, proficient service, and clean and inspired flavors (and ballsy— don’t forget ballsy), was at once a comfort and delight.

Woot, Aquavit: you delivered.

Aquavit
65 East 55th Street
New York NY 10022
(212) 307-7311

MORE Blueberries for Sharon

2009-07-21T18:19:00.018-04:00

I know you just got a recipe for blueberries, but blueberry season is almost over. So I’m not going to hoard my blueberry recipes. I’m going to give you my recipes now. And when I say “my” recipe, I mean Cook’s Illustrated’s “Best Blueberry Muffins” recipe.

I was fascinated by the small black and white photograph in the May/June 2009 issue of Cook’s Illustrated that demonstrates how loading more blueberries into your muffin batter isn’t the solution to getting a moister muffin. Adding more berries merely causes all those little guys to settle to the bottom of the muffin. The trick, Cook’s Illustrated declares, is to incorporate blueberry jam, and swirl the jam through the muffin batter. Your blueberries stay equally distributed and the jam creates a lovely, moist, “best” blueberry muffin.

“By jove,” I shouted. “I must make the best blueberry muffin immediately!”

Before you make the Best Blueberry Muffin (cause it’s more work than regular blueberry muffins.. and regular blueberry muffins are pretty great, too), some disclaimers:

1. If you want to include a topping, Cook’s Illustrated has some options: I assumed the one included in the recipe (sugar and lemon zest), would be the best. It wasn’t; it was too sweet, and had a processed, store-bought taste. The streusel, however, was really good. I’m only including the streusel recipe below because… let’s face it… this is my blog.

Here’s a picture of both of the toppings. The superior streusel is on the left:
2. I sometimes get a little ticked off with Cook’s Illustrated’s exact amounts and precise steps. I’m not convinced they make a whole lotta difference. I’m a big fan of Kathleen’s Bake Shop, where the recipes are always delicious, and you’re in and out of the kitchen in one, two, three.

3. A disclaimer to my disclaimer: If you’re looking for a good blueberry muffin recipe, this is a good one. It’s just a few extra steps.

Cook’s Illustrated Best Blueberry Muffins (with Streusel Topping… none of that sugar and lemon zest nonsense)
Yields 12 muffins

Preheat oven to 425 degrees (oven rack should be adjusted to the upper, middle position).

Spray a standard muffin tray with nonstick cooking spray.

For the jam: In a small saucepan, over medium heat, simmer 1 cup blueberries and 1 teaspoon sugar. Mash the berries until they are broken down and the mixture has thickened and reduced to ¼ cup (about 6 minutes). Remove from heat and let the mixture cool to room temperature.

For the muffin batter: In a large bowl, whisk 2 ½ cups unbleached, all-purpose flour and 2 ½ teaspoons baking powder.

In another bowl (so many bowls….), whisk 1 1/8 cups sugar and 2 eggs until thick. Slowly whisk in ½ stick of melted butter (cooled slightly) and ¼ cup vegetable oil. Whisk in 1 cup buttermilk and 1 ½ teaspoon vanilla.

Fold egg mixture and an additional cup of blueberries into the flour mixture and mix until just moistened. Lumps and spots of dry flour are not a concern, Cook’s assures us.

Pour the batter into muffin cups. And here’s that special step for the moistest, “best” blueberry muffins: Spoon a teaspoon of the cooked berry mixture into the center of each batter mound. Use chopsticks to swirl the berry mixture into the batter with a figure-eight motion.
For the Streusel topping: Combine 3 tablespoons granulated sugar, 3 tablespoons dark brown sugar, a pinch of salt and ½ cup plus 3 tablespoons unbleached, all-purpose flour into a small bowl. Drizzle mixture with 5 tablespoons unsalted butter and mix until evenly moistened.

Sprinkle streusel on muffin batter.

Bake 17-19 minutes.
Let me know if you think the jam-swirling action makes for a better, moister muffin. And if you’re a fan of the streusel.

Until next blueberry season!

Oishii Asian Fusion

2009-07-19T20:29:00.016-04:00

Duck Fajitas, Asian Style; Oishii, Mt. Kisco

Is it me, or is there a glut of Asian Fusion here in Westchester? And are any of these fusion dishes being fused particularly well? I have my doubts, especially when I see fusion menus starting to resemble Cheesecake Factory-sized binders (page 1: sushi; page 2: the ubiquitous Pad Thai and Sesame Chicken; page 3: sauces and noodles, etc.). Why won’t some of these restaurants hunker down and produce, say, the best Vietnamese or Mongolian food in Westchester instead of offering lots and lots of “pretty good” stuff from all over Asia? Cause… I dunno, Asia’s a big place.

I suspect I’ve just written a terribly unmerited lead-in to Oishii in Mount Kisco. I’m not picking on Oishii. And I’m not telling Oishii to make Mongolian food. It’s that just that I had mixed feelings on meeting my friend Danielle there, because I don't know if I've ever seen Fusion done exceptionally well.
Oishii is the former Mt. Fuji Japanese restaurant (right next to the Dunkin Donuts on North Bedford Road), now under new management and renovated. I had never been to Mt. Fuji, so I can’t tell you what’s different, but Oishii is pleasant-looking enough, and I get the sense that a lot of money was put into the renovation. The bar has that modern neon blue glow, ambient beats resound, and tableware is attractive (the placemats are these thin, straw-like Jackson Pollock-esque creations). It’s quite comfortable and simultaneously contemporary. There’s also a sense of earnestness that might need to be toned down. On the night of our visit, Danielle and I were flipping through the massive menu, not quite sure if we wanted to share dishes or split sushi. While we were discussing this, clearly still holding our menus and pointing to items, our server came over, not once, not twice, but five times to ask if we were ready. What was most bothersome was that the servers were keeping a watchful eye on us from only a few feet away—it would’ve been incredibly easy for us to signal someone merely by looking in their general direction, and then have them come over, rather then have the waitress keep coming back to our table and making us feel rushed.

In the end, we ordered a lot. (Maybe that’s why the menu is so large. Maybe they’re geniuses for creating such large menus.)

Danielle arrived before me; while she waited, she snacked on some edamame ($5). This was nicely salted and well-cooked, but $5 was wayyyy too high for a bowl of beans. This ain’t Manhattan, fellas.

Speaking of "too high," check out my $13.95 Spicy Tuna Tartare:
Aside from the price, I liked this. The tartar was fresh, and the mango, goat cheese and pumpkin seed oil went well together. The roe was a little overpowering, especially the large size that was used, but it by no means ruined the dish. Was it worth $13.95? Nooooooo.

Danielle got a Philadephia Roll ($6)—Smoked Salmon and Cream Cheese:
I rarely get Philly Rolls, and I forget how much I like them. This is one of the better Phillies I’ve had. (The menu also very clearly and thoughtfully marks “cooked” rolls for customers squeamish about raw items.)

We also shared Duck Dumplings (steamed) ($9):
A welcome surprise to see duck as an option for dumplings—usually, it’s pork or vegetable. The meat was quite tender and juicy. I would order these again.

For entrees, Danielle ordered the Chicken Pad Thai ($9.95)
A moderately-priced option, but underseasoned, and none of that terrific gumminess you want when you order pad thai noodles. Passable, but by no means memorable.

I ordered the Duck Fajitas Asian Style ($16.00)
I really liked the sound of this dish, like there would be a lot of interesting, exciting fusing going on. The duck was served with shiitake mushrooms, chives and scallions, and the pancake wraps were similar to spring roll wrappers. For the most part, this dish worked. Again, the duck was very tender, the mushrooms meaty. I added rice into the pancake wrap, which helped balance the soy sauce/ saltiness, which was a little heavy. But this was enjoyable. And clever. More like an Asian burrito really, when I added the rice.

For dessert, it was mochi ice cream in both red bean and green tea flavors.
In Japan, mochi is traditionally a glutinous rice exterior with a sweet, red bean filling. Here, the filling was replaced with the flavored ice cream. I thought this was a wonderful idea—it’s the first time I’ve had mochi (one of my favorite snacks) paired with ice cream instead of bean, and by golly, I liked it. You betcha I would order this again.

Fusion may not always be my thing, but scattered throughout the pages and pages of Oishii’s menu, are some generally interesting-sounding dishes like Thai Coconut Curry Casserole, Indian Tuna (lightly fried ahi tuna with masala dressing), Yellowtail Jalapeno, and Pumpkin Soup; not to mention the plethora of Special Rolls available. The duck dishes really worked on the night of our visit, and aside from the ever-present servers, the setting is pleasing and modern.

Oishii Asian Fusion
176 North Bedford Road
Mt. Kisco, NY.
(914) 666-2348

Melt Sandwich Shop: Could be Love

2009-07-15T17:42:00.020-04:00

If you recall the ending to Top Gun (spoiler alert… if you live in a tree house in New Guinea), when Maverick tells Kelly McGillis he “doesn’t know” how their budding love is going, “…but it’s “lookin good so far”—that pretty much captures the state of things between me and Melt Sandwich Shop in White Plains. In layman’s terms? I know I’m falling in love, but I’m playing it cool… cause I’m Maverick.

Look at this beautiful sandwich:
You’ve got grilled tilapia inside homemade flatbread, topped with mango salsa, jalapenos, cilantro and red onions ($6). It’s actually even tastier than it looks.

But, as is the case with so many corner establishments that start out strong, only to crash and burn in my heart soon after, I only hope that Melt can sustain the genius I see in its flying.

No doubt they are making damn fine sandwiches (and pizza) at this small take-out shop (there are only about eight seats to eat in), but it feels relatively soon to be weighing in—Melt has only been open a little over a month, and time is needed to spot and address any kinks that are sure to make a blip on the radar. This isn’t meant to sound shady, like I’ve already spotted a whole bunch of blips—what I mean instead is, I’m actually a little afraid for the three to four kind souls currently handling production in this itty-bitty shop. Afraid. Because I just can’t fathom how their set-up will handle the crazy demand I predict in the very near future.

Why do I foresee a mad rush? For one, Melt has already gained regular, devoted followers. While I waited for my pulled pork grilled pizza ($8) last Friday, a fellow walked in, suspicious girlfriend in tow, and pointed to the menu listed behind the counter. He excitedly began to explain the concept: 1.) choose a bread (short, flat, or long), 2.) choose a meat from the daily selection of smokes and roasts, and 3.) choose a sandwich combination (like “french onion,” “bacon cheddar,” “philly,” Cuban,” or “spicy”). Dude behind the counter didn't need to say a word. This fellow was a Melt marketing machine. Another time, a different guy came in with his lady friend, announced “I’m back!” and alerted the folks behind the counter that their pizzas were “all the rage” on Chowhound. That same visit, an elderly woman approached the counter and quietly placed her order, “Corned beef, same as always.”

Same as “always”? But, but… this place opened a month ago!
Above you have the Cuban: pork loin, hickory smoked black forest ham, swiss cheese, pickles, spicy Dijon mustard on grilled, homemade flatbread ($7). And herin lies the other reason Melt is set to explode: the flatbread is so wonderfully charred and soft—almost gummy. Do yourself a favor and be sure to order your sandwich on flatbread. The short and long rolls aren’t homemade (although I hear Melt is working to change that), and while soft and fresh, they just don’t hold a candle to the flatbread. Here’s a look at my friend’s sandwich on a “short” roll: grilled chicken with white cheddar ($6):
Very good—the chicken was wonderfully grilled with absolutely no fat, the cheese pleasantly sharp. But the bread? Nothing special. Good, just nothing special.

And what about those “all the rage” pizzas?
This is the already-famous Pulled Pork pizza ($8). Yes. Yes, it is that good. Again, we’ve got that gummy grilled dough, a tangy, chipotle barbecue sauce, sweet red onions, fresh tomatoes, aged white cheddar, and tender, slow roasted shredded pork. Phenomenal. I almost want to tell you not to waste your time with the sandwiches, but I won't because both offerings really are top-notch. It’s whatever you’re in the mood for.

I’ve also experienced the Pomodoro pizza: sun-dried tomatoes, fresh basil, whole milk mozzarella, and pomodoro sauce. ($8)
Nice, but all I can think about is how I need another pulled pork pizza immediately.

And there you have it. I’ll post an update in a few weeks to see how the shop is doing. I hear delivery is on the near horizon.

Stay yummy, Melt. Don’t lose that loving feeling.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go embarrass myself with Goose for a while.

Melt (website coming soon)
277 Mamaroneck Avenue
White Plains, NY 10605
(914) 358-1364

Blueberries for Sharon

2009-07-13T23:41:00.021-04:00

I love blueberries. LOVE em. In my cereal, in muffins, pie, buckle (we’ll get to that momentarily), jam, straight off the bush. Blueberries, blueberries, blueberries. I heard on the radio just last month that mice put on a high-fat diet (cheeseburgers, fries, etc.) still lost belly fat if they were also fed blueberry powder… but don’t quote me on that last part. Sometimes I hear bits and pieces of news stories when I’m driving home from work and then piece two unrelated stories together later in conversation. (Not on purpose. I just do.) But I digress.

Yesterday, my mom, grandmother and I took a drive to Wappingers Falls in Dutchess County, NY. There’s a little farm called Secor Strawberries, where, upon arrival, you are handed small plastic pails and then sent off into the fields to pick your own—psych—blueberries! Yeah, they should look into changing their name over there.
Picking your own berries is loads of fun; your bucket fills up in no time. And don’t let any fool tell you it's dangerous. Because it's not. No one ever decides to step into the blueberry bushes rife with poison ivy when the paths are so well-marked and poison ivy-free. Or venture far into the bushes so that the bees get angry and begin to chase you. ... Only idiots do that.
My adventure in the fields was quite reasonably-priced. I got a half-sized pail for $5.00. And talk about fresh produce—the berries were sweet and ripe, the flesh softer and less thick than the freshest ones I’ve bought from a supermarket. And plump. Downright chubby, even.
Sweet, plump blueberries mean Blueberry Buckle at our house. It’s one of those go-to desserts, a cinch to make because you can just plop everything into one pan. And it looks so rustic once you slice it.

The recipe comes from one of my favorite dessert cookbooks of all-time, Kathleen’s Bake Shop Cookbook. My mom and I have tried a good deal of the recipes in the book, and all have been sensational, the chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin cookies especially. Uncomplicated, classic stuff. Darned if I know why this plastic comb book is up to $115 new on Amazon now, but no matter… I’m gonna tell you how to make the Buckle right here and now.

Blueberry Buckle
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees, and grease a 9-inch square pan.

For the cake batter: Cream ½ cup of butter and ¾ cup granulated sugar. Add 1 egg, ½ cup of milk, 2 teaspoons baking powder and ½ teaspoon of salt. Mix. Stir in 2 cups of all-purpose flour (one at a time), and then fold in 2 ½ cups of your little blue treasures. Pour the cake batter into the 9-inch pan. Set aside.
For the topping: In a medium-sized bowl, combine 1 cup of firmly packed dark-brown sugar, ½ cup of butter, 2/3 cup all-purpose flour, and 1 teaspoon of cinnamon. Then mix it all with your hands—yeah, baby!—until it’s nice and crumbly. Sprinkle on top of the cake batter.
Bake for 45-50 minutes.

And that’s it. Really. That’s all it takes to make one of my favorite desserts of all time.
And don’t forget to check out Secor Strawberries! Strawberry and pea season has just ended, and right around the corner is sweet corn. Then pumpkins! But I actually have another place to tell you about for pumpkin picking...

...but first I've gotta ice these bee stings and tend to this itching.

Secor Strawberries
63 Robinson Lane
Wappingers Falls, NY 12590
(845) 452-6883 (Daily picking information)
(No web site)

Top Chef Returns!

2009-07-08T18:29:00.029-04:00

Get ready for Quickfires, Restaurant Wars, gratuitous Glad® product placement and…craps?

Top Chef Season 6 debuts on Bravo, Wednesday, August 26th, at 9:00 p.m., and this time Tom, Padma, Gail (and Toby!) are in Vegas, baby! Expect poker/blackjack witticisms to fly alongside Judges Table critiques. Me? I’m already going full-tilt, especially after checking out the new meat on Bravo’s web site.

The pickings are fierce this season. Our 17 contestants (we’ve got brothers!) hail from across the U.S. and include: a two-time James Beard nominee, the chef de cuisine of Eric Ripert’s 10 Arts in Philadelphia, the chef de cuisine of Jose Andres’ Bazaar in Beverly Hills, and a slew of graduates from Le Cordon Bleu and the Culinary Institute of America. Sole representation from New York is self-taught, 29-year-old Ash Fulk, sous chef at Trestle on Tenth. Ash: you’ve got some stiff competition. But no pressure. Just give ’em that New York ’tude, and don’t let ’em walk all over you. (...and don’t be a d.b., either.)

Below, the judges weigh in:

I am a huuuuuuuge Top Chef fan—I watch it religiously. The only teensy problem I foresee this time around is that I no longer get Bravo. I canceled cable a couple of months ago in a fit of rage after an exorbitant bill arrived once my “Triple Play” had expired. I figure I’ve got a little over a month to remedy this situation. Do I suck it up and spring for cable, or do I look into one of those “Season Pass” thingees from iTunes? (Not sure how quickly new episodes are added to iTunes. It’s a gamble: I don’t want to come into work Thursday morning, still waiting for the previous night’s episode, to my coworkers saying, “Dude, did you see the Quickfire last night? They made deep-fried Oreos!!!” Or “Tom Colicchio totally saved six contestants from a grease fire ...with one hand! …and made a tarte flambée with the other!” Or “Padma literally lost her shirt playing Hold ’Em.”)

Regardless of delivery method, I’ll be watching. And blogging my Top Chef thoughts weekly.

Oh, it’s the MOST wonderful tiiime of the yeaaar…….

Stay tuned!

Beni imo!!!

2009-07-07T17:45:00.011-04:00

Pop quiz, hotshot: What is the best homemade ice cream in the whole world?

Answer: Beni imo!!!!

Beni imo is an Okinawan sweet potato. It is available in dried, purple flakes in Asian specialty shops, although it’s incredibly difficult to find (we have relatives who ship it to us from Okinawa when we’re desperate). Sweet potato may not sound appealing, but it doesn’t really taste like sweet potato, or even, say, a sweet potato pie. Beni imo, rather, has a taste all its own. It’s hard to describe, but I’d put it somewhere between cake-batter, and… a carnival. And who doesn’t want a carnival in their mouth? Exactly.
This past weekend, my mom and I prepared this wondrous treat. It’s actually quite simple, as long as you have two uncommon items in your kitchen: beni imo flakes and an ice cream machine.

“So, what did you name this contraption?” I said to my mom teasingly, lugging her ice cream machine out of the closet and placing it on the counter. I was referring to the KitchenAid mixer she had recently dubbed “Angelina” due to its intense beauty. I figured she had named all of her appliances by now. “Val Kilmer? You know, ‘cause he’s Ice Man? …That’s how he flies? Ice cold, no mistakes?” I laughed at my own joke.

My mom eyed me warily. “It doesn’t have a name. It’s an ice cream machine.”

“Oh… right.”

Preparation begins the same as regular vanilla ice cream.

Pour 1 ¾ cup whole milk (we actually used 2% milk, and our finished product was still extremely rich) and 1 ¾ cup heavy cream into a pot to simmer. In a separate bowl, mix 4 large egg yolks and ¾ cup granulated sugar with a hand mixer (Angelina shot the hand mixer dirty looks), until the consistency is similar to mayonnaise, about 2 minutes.
Take 1 cup of the hot milk/cream from the simmering pot and, with the hand mixer on a low speed, add it to the egg mixture in a slow, steady stream. When thoroughly combined, pour the egg mixture back into the sauce pan. Stir.

In a new bowl, combine a separate, additional ½ cup of warm milk with ½ cup of beni imo flakes and stir until smooth (it should be similar to the consistency of instant mashed potatoes). Add a little extra milk if it’s lumpy. Pour this mixture into the simmering milk and cream. Stir until smooth over medium heat until the mixture is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. When it is thick, add 1 ½ teaspoon of pure vanilla extract.

Transfer the mixture to a bowl. (If your mixture is lumpy now, pour through a strainer). Cover it with plastic-wrap and chill completely in the refrigerator (overnight is best).

Once the mixture is thoroughly chilled, you’re ready to bust out that ice cream maker. Pour the mixture into the freezer bowl, and flip that puppy on.
Now comes the best part of making beni imo ice cream: you must sample the ice cream with a spoon (or your finger) while it is churning. It is off the hooooooooooook. The texture is similar to cold, cold cake batter. Just don’t let your mom catch you; moms are really weird about these things.

The ice cream should churn for about 20 minutes. And voila! You have just created beni imo ice cream.
“Hmmmm,” my mom said frowning, as she transferred the finished ice cream into Tupperwares. “I could’ve sworn that the recipe made more the last time.” She stopped, and looked at me suspiciously. I was already licking the mixer. (That’s right, don’t let anyone tell you I am not the best sous chef ever; I am James Beard Nominee material.)
Enjoy!

(And readers, if you get word of a web site where you can order beni imo flakes, let me know! If I find one, I will post it.)

Seaside Johnnies: That View’s Gonna Cost You

2009-07-06T17:34:00.018-04:00

The recent rainy weather has been wreaking absolute havoc on my jones for soft-shell crab.

I have been wanting one of those little buggers in the worst way since early June. Throwing the whole deep-fried body into a soft bun, legs dangling grossly out of the edges, biting into the delicate, crispy skin to nuggets of juicy, salty meat… perhaps even enjoying one on the beach, breathing in the salt air… dare I dream of such splendor?

I knew of a place in Westchester that might satisfy my craving. So, at the first sign of sun two Thursdays ago, my co-workers Tia, Erin and Jen headed to Rye after work to Seaside Johnnies, a fish and sushi hut right on the Playland Boardwalk with killer views of the Long Island Sound. The hut inflates its prices due to said views and locale, but I suppose people put up with it once they sip a $10 pina colada on the outdoor deck and breathe in the Sound.

And that’s pretty much how we played it, right down to the pina colada. We arrived to Bob Marley singing through the speakers, as if to welcome us on vacation.
Our bubbly, tanned waitress (quite possibly the friendliest gal who has ever waited on me) took our drink orders—there were also $10 Bikini Tinis and $9 Mixed Berry Mojitos to be enjoyed that evening—and then asked us if we were ready with our entrées. You bet.

“I’ll have the soft-shell crab,” I announced, as though my co-workers hadn't been hearing about this critter for the past month. “I’ll have the same,” Tia said bravely, although she had never sampled one before.

What is a soft-shell crab, exactly? When a crab grows, its shell cannot. The crab must shed it (a process called molting), before a larger, harder one can develop. During that window, there is nothing but a soft covering to the little guy, one ideal for deep-frying and eating. There's an excellent article in The Washington Post that further explains the molting process, and how difficult it is for restaurants to serve a truly fresh soft-shell crab.

Just to be certain I was ordering exactly what I wanted, I asked our waitress if the crab came in a roll. Apparently, the sandwich option was only available during lunch. I asked if the chef could throw it in a roll anyway.

“Let me check for you,” she said.

When she came back, she said the chef would indeed put the crab in a roll. Perfect. What she neglected to mention, however, was that the chef would charge an additional $3 for this favor. She also neglected to mention that it would be served as two sandwiches. That’s right, check out one singular order ($26.95 (plus $3)) below. Tia and I could’ve totally split one entrée:
Ridiculous portion aside, did the sandwich do the trick? Kind of. It got rid of my craving, but the roll was hard and a little too large for the crab (it’s served this way for lunch, so the fact that it wasn’t on the dinner menu isn’t much of an excuse), and the crab, while nicely breaded, just didn’t have that juicy, meaty interior I love. Perhaps it was fried too far into the molting process, when the soft shell has already started to harden. The accompanying fries however, were top-notch, as was my pina colada. The meal as a whole was good, just not a home run. But, still. It’s a soft-shell crab sandwich. On the beach. Kind of hard not to be satisfied.

“Sharon, this is amazing,” Tia said dreamily, taking another hearty chomp out of her own sandwich.

I was impressed. Tia was eating with abandon. Soft shell crab had been an acquired taste for me.

“I’m glad you like it,” I said. And here’s where I put my foot in my mouth, something I often do. “You’re even eating the middle! The orange guts in there were a little dicey for me the first time.”

The chewing stopped.

Tia inspected her sandwich more closely. “Oh yeah,” she frowned. Erin and Jen threw me disgusted looks.

“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. I tried to offer up an appropriate explanation. “I’m an ass.”

Tia took another moment to examine the lil fellow’s insides, shrugged, and took another bite.

Here’s a look at Jen’s sushi, which she enjoyed—she was impressed with the sheer amount of fish in her rolls. She got the Sunny Roll ($12.95): salmon, avocado, masago, spicy salmon and tempura crunch (left); and the Fantasy Tuna Roll ($14.95): cooked white tuna, spicy tuna and avocado topped with peppered tuna:
Dear, sweet Erin, always up for a good time, but a hater of all things seafood, ordered the ½ pound burger ($12.95), not pictured. "Good" was the verdict, but it was made better by the setting.

And that verdict holds true for Seaside Johnnies as a whole. I can’t say I’ve had spectacular food there, but I have had plenty of spectacular evenings. It’s a wonderful, soothing location … right up to the moment you receive the tab.

Seaside Johnnies
94 Dearborn Avenue
Rye, NY
(914) 921-6104

Shake Shack: Now I Get It

2009-07-05T14:10:00.024-04:00

I was in SoHo yesterday, running some errands and enjoying the bright blue sky, when it hit me: I had one final errand to run, the most important errand, actually. Before I returned to Westchester, I was going to discover for myself what was at the end of those long lines at Madison Square Park. Was a Shake Shack burger really worth a two-hour wait? I had my doubts, but I also had my hopes, given that that the Shack was created by Midas-touch restaurateur Danny Meyer (Union Square Café, Gramercy Tavern, Tabla, Eleven Madison Park, The Modern). Meyer wouldn’t slap his name on just any roadside stand.

The tummy wants what the tummy wants, so I began the trek from Soho to Madison Avenue and East 23rd Street. I arrived at the park at 4:00 p.m. The line looked daunting, stretched passed the outdoor seating area, almost to the park entrance, but the people seemed quiet and patient, even a little excited. I stepped to the end of the line, and within moments, five people swarmed behind me.

Here I am, at the 10-minute mark (I'm waving!):
Fast forward an hour, and I had reached the “A” counter (there is a shorter B-line, where customers can get all sorts of drink items, except shakes). At precisely 5:10, a surprisingly pleasant woman took my order. She had a big smile, and in no way rushed me. I paid for my food, and was given a receipt and a buzzer to claim my order at another counter. In the meantime, I could find a seat.

Shortly after I found a table in the shade (only about a five-minute wait), my little gadget started buzzing. It was just an ordinary buzz, but at the moment, with my feet aching and my stomach growling, it sounded like The Vienna Boys Choir.

My food was waiting for me at the counter, neatly placed in cardboard boxes for easy transport. Let’s take a look at what’s inside:
Naturally, there are ShackBurgers in there ($4.75 each): a single patty, with lettuce, tomato, American cheese, and Shack Sauce (from what I could tell, nothing more than a lightly flavored mayonnaise). You can ask for pickles and onions, too, which I did, but I only got two slices, one pickle for each burger. Boo.

There is a hand-spun vanilla shake ($5.25), which was everything a vanilla shake should be. Thick, rich, creamy, truly delicious. The price was a little hefty, however, and the cups are kind of small. I would’ve been happy if they lowered the price or increased the cup size. But maybe I’m just a greedy American.

I also ordered French Fries ($2.75):
The fries were pretty good. Extremely crispy and not too greasy. It says on the menu that they’re made from Yukon Gold Potatoes, and contain 25% less fat than average fries. (I wonder what an average fry is?) Not a huge fan of the crinkle cut, so nothing to wait an hour for. Maybe if I got the cheese fries I’d be changing my tune. Cheese fixes everything.

Here’s a pic of the Shack-cago dog ($4.25).
You can’t even see the hot dog under all that stuff: mustard, relish, onion, cucumber, tomato, pickle, sport pepper and celery salt. This was good, but let's face it, it’s not the star of the Shack. The Vienna all-beef dog was actually a little salty and didn’t have the crunchy casing I adore in Nathan’s hot dogs. The toppings were pretty great, but the poppy seed bun was a tad stale.

Bottom-line verdict for Shake Shack? The line was a huge pain in the ass. I even have to wonder if the food tastes so delicious because people are starving by the time they get to it.

However….

That burger really is something to behold. The patty was juicy, a little fatty-tasting even (in a good way) with a deep, chargrilled taste. The griddled potato bun was soft and light, the accompaniments fresh and crisp. And I'm already dreaming of another vanilla milkshake.

I can’t say The ShackBurger is the best burger I've ever had (although it’s close, and definitely the second best). First-place honors actually go to a burger my brother Bill made for me. One poker-playing Sunday, he grilled a Gourmet Big Y Burger (the Bacon Cheddar variety) and served it on a sweet, waxy brioche bun. It was unlike anything I had ever tasted. (“This is a really good burger,” I kept saying over and over, as I took everyone’s money.)

Would I wait in line again? Sure, if the weather cooperated, and I wanted a really great burger. Should you?

It’s something to do at least once.

Shake Shack (Madison Square Park)
Southeast corner of Madison Square Park
(near Madison Avenue and East 23rd Street)
(212) 889-6600

NYC Restaurant Week Summer 2009

2009-06-30T17:53:00.010-04:00

NYC Restaurant Week Summer 2009 (July 12-31) is soon upon us and today, the list of participating restaurants has been posted online. What is NYC Restaurant Week? (Well, for one thing, it’s more like three weeks, excluding Saturdays.) Select New York City restaurants offer discounted, pre-fixe menus (lunch: $24.07 and dinner $35.00). It’s a great time to sample fare that’s normally too pricey, and get an idea how the other half lives.

I always get excited about Restaurant Week, but it’s important to keep the event in perspective. If it’s anything like Winter 2009, for instance, many restaurants will extend Restaurant Week menus past the 31st, due to the current state of the economy. Or, take JoJo and Perry Street—many Jean-Georges restaurants offer the Restaurant Week menu year-round.

So strategize. Try to get BANG for your buck, and find a restaurant that’s ordinarily out of your price range (ie, why use this opportunity to go to Ruby Foo’s?). If you’re able to swing lunch, your choices are pretty solid. You’ve got: Del Posto, Dovetail, Esca, Nobu, Alto, Bar (and Café) Boulud, Craftbar, Gotham Bar & Grill, Lupa, Morimoto, and even the new D BGB Kitchen and Bar is making an appearance this year (although isn’t the whole deal with DBGB suppose to be casual, affordable food?). Most super exciting? Probably hot hot HOT Ago successor Locanda Verde. Notably missing from the picks this time around is the very posh, much adored, Eleven Madison Park.

For dinner, finding a great deal gets a little tougher. Convivio is an exciting addition, although their regularly-priced menu is actually quite affordable without the Restaurant Week discount. You've got Lure Fishbar, which makes up for its nautical cheesiness with a great-looking menu. I had a great experience at Anthos in Winter 2009, which I would recommend, although the service was sub-par. I think I was most jazzed to see the Aquavit Dining Room—last time they only offered the Café as an option.

What am I missing? And what are you most excited to try?