Amusing Bouche

Iowa Snackshot: Bacon Jewelers

2008-06-20T13:13:00.001-04:00

Perry, Iowa

Pork fat is forever.

Hot Doug's – One of Chicago's Premier Fine Art Institutions

2008-06-10T18:12:00.003-04:00

On a recent trip to Chicago, I had the opportunity to visit a museum a bit off the beaten track. In fact, most people have the misconception that Hot Doug's is an eatery of sorts, but it holds one of the finest collections of HotDog Art in the Nation.

Frankfurter Gothic is the iconic American painting by Grant Food. It seems to depict the traditional gender roles of early American hot dog enthusiasts (men preferred their weenies with glasses, while women preferred theirs plain).

Many will argue that Dog of Man by Rene MagrEat is one of the most famous surrealist weiner pieces. It is often thought that the modern businessman is the son of Adam, while the hot dog represents caloric temptation.

Another MagrEat piece is The Seasoning of Images. Its famous inscription "Ceci n'est pas une hot-dog" (this is not a hot dog) is in fact not a contradiction. The painting is not a hot dog, but rather an image of a hot dog, which provokes a conversation on visual representation and food.

One of the most exciting pieces at the museum was one that I had never seen before: The Keira Knightley (formerly the Jennifer Garner and the Britney Spears). The red-hot combined with the onion and relish represents the combination of the masculine with the feminine. The sport peppers and tomatoes add a freshness to the piece that invokes the inevitability of aging. The dill pickle and celery salt represent the tangy, sour obstacles in life, while the mustard reminds us all of how expensive dry cleaning is. It truly was a masterpiece.

Unfortunately, the museum's special exhibit of french fries fried in duck fat is only available on Fridays and Saturdays, but the usual exhibit of hand cut fries was a delight nonetheless. On any trip to Hot Doug's your eyeballs and tastebuds are guaranteed unparalleled cultural stimulation.

Happy National Donut Day!!!

2008-06-06T13:14:00.003-04:00

Since there aren't any Stan Mikita Donut Shops in NY, I recommend Doughnut Plant in the LES and Peter Pan Bakery in Greenpoint. Also, Krispy Kreme is giving out free donuts today in celebration of this magical holiday.

So, go out and channel your inner Homer Simpson. Mmmmm... deep fried goodness...

New York Snackshot: Kentucky Fried Guitars

2008-06-05T16:23:00.001-04:00

Boerum Hill, Brooklyn

Deep Fried Guitars. To put on your guitar hero.

White Cheese Pizza with Ramps aka RAMPAGE!!!

2008-06-04T19:06:00.002-04:00

It started as another spring day at the Prospect Park Greenmarket. The sun was out, the dogs were adorable, and the strollers were out in full force. All was right in the world. I just couldn't shake this weird feeling in my stomach, though. My legs started to shake. My hands started looking dry and scaly… and maybe a little green. There was an unmistakable odor of garlicky leeks in the air. No. It couldn't be. Not again.

OMGRAMPS!!!! (An abbreviation I also use when my grandpa tells a racy joke)

After punching a few buildings and eating some tourists, I ran home with my bounty. But what to do with these coveted veggies? A while back, I made an amazing leek and ricotta pizza with walnuts that I thought would be perfect for my precious ramps. Alas, my local cheesemonger was all out of ricotta. Then I remembered the old adage: Necessity breeds awesomeness.

Plus

Equals

Yum. At the time, I really didn't see what all the crazy fuss about ramps was, but their flavor finds its way into your taste memory and stays. I'm pretty sure this will be the last thing I taste before I die, and that makes me very, very happy.

White Cheese Pizza with Ramps (based on the recipe from April's Food & Wine)

Ingredients
Dough:
1/4 c. whole-wheat flour
3/4 c. all-purpose flour, plus additional for rolling
1 1/2 tsp. active dry yeast
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. sugar
1/2 tsp. extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 c. plus 2 tbsp. warm water

Topping:
10 ramps (or scallions or spring onions)
Extra-virgin olive oil, for brushing
Water-packed fresh mozzarella, cut into thin 1/8 in. slices
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/4 c. freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese

Directions
1) In a stand mixer with a dough hook, mix the flours, yeast, salt, and sugar. While the mixer is running, add the oil and water. Continue to knead on low speed until the dough is firm and smooth, about 10 minutes. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a damp towel and let stand in a warm spot until the dough has doubled in bulk, about 1 1/2 hours.

2) Preheat the oven to 500 degrees.

3) Bring a medium saucepan of salted water to a boil. Blanch the ramps until they are bright green, but still al dente, about 1 minute. They are going to smell insane. Drain, pat dry, and cut into 1-inch lengths.

4) Punch the dough (yes! violence!) and transfer to a lightly floured work surface. Roll out the dough until it is about a 10-12 inch shape. You can roll it into a round shape, but I prefer my pizza to be sort of oval or rectangular, like a flatbread. It's, um, rustic or something. Brush the dough with olive oil, and place the mozzarella slices in an even layer. Scatter the blanched ramps on top and season lightly with salt and pepper. Finish with the Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese.

5) Bake on a baking sheet covered with parchment paper (or use a pizza stone if you have one) for about 8 minutes, until the cheese has melted and the crust is crisp and browned.

6) Stuff your face.

Rendangit!

2008-05-05T19:55:00.002-04:00

There are times when I need a break from my constant diet of pork fat and beer. Times when I think, maybe cookies are a sometimes food.

Usually, I wash my deep-fried oreos down with some soy milk and feel a little better about myself, but recently, I've been trying to incorporate some actual nutrients into my diet. I've long been curious about cooking with tempeh, and when I saw this recipe for Tempeh Rendang in the March issue of Cooking Light, I was downright intrigued.

I took a quick trip to the Bangkok Center Grocery on Mosco Street in Chinatown to pick up some fresh lemongrass, galangal, thai chiles, and kaffir lime leaves. If you've never been to this tiny store, I highly recommend it for fresh and packaged Thai ingredients. It is pretty small, but jam packed with food, just like me.

Now, this was my first time working with tempeh, so I wasn't really sure which one I should purchase. I thought tempeh was tempeh; I didn't realize there were so many different varieties out there. Being overwhelmed and slightly panicked that I was not fact in the comforting candy aisle, I grabbed the Garden Veggie variety and ran for my life, before the vegetarians in the aisle smelled the pork in my blood. Next time I make this recipe, I definitely will not use the veggie tempeh. The carrot and celery seed flavor was a bit too overwhelming for the curry. I recommend using plain ol' soy tempeh so the flavors don't compete.

This dish smells insane. Every single ingredient is fragrant on its own, but together they form Voltron in your nose. The coconut milk reduces, so you're left with more of a stir-fry than a stew. Add a little jasmine rice, some cilantro for garnish, and voila.

The one unexpected downside to tempeh is that it apparently makes me burp. A lot. Fermented soybean burps. I felt like Charlie in Willy Wonka after drinking Fizzy Lifting Drinks and having to release gas in order to prevent being chopped to little pieces (the fuel for so many of my nightmares as a wee krys).

Again, I won't use the garden veggie tempeh next time, but this was a very good basic rendang recipe. I would definitely try it with soy tempeh or maybe some chicken. Mmmm. The plus side is that after two hours of burping, you're ready for more delicious curry action.

I'm Back and I'm Here to Stay

2008-04-29T23:16:00.004-04:00

The last few months have been a bit work-heavy to say the least. Months of spreadsheets, emails, and business trips have a way of making you forget that the computer can be your friend, and not just a conduit for frustration and a test of patience. While I still eat out (a lot), cook (a lot), and take pictures (not as often, but still, kinda a lot), I just haven’t had the desire to put words to my experiences.

Work has been taking a lot out of me. To make a long story short, my department is relocating to a different city, and I was offered a position there. My hard work was being recognized, and it was an opportunity that I should have seriously considered, especially in this shaky economy. I was being asked to either give up my job or give up my home. I really love my job. I truly do. I take pride in the feeling that I am making a difference in the work that I do, and a great deal of my self-worth is based on this sense of accomplishment.

I’m not ready to leave yet.

I love my Brooklyn kitchen.

I don’t think there is any color in the color spectrum that is more comforting than the maroon of my kitchen walls.

I love Chinatown. I love reading descriptions of dishes like “Shrimp in Pumping Sauce.”

I love that a liquor store can claim to be AS OLD AS HILLS.

I love that you can get your candy, and then eat it inside Fat Baby.

I love that no matter what my day is like, there is always something here that makes me smile.

So my last day at my company is a few months away. I have no idea what I’m going to do next, and that doesn’t freak me out. I’ll figure it out. I’m just happy that I’m staying in New York.

An Elegy for Pies and Thighs

2008-01-19T16:41:00.000-05:00

You can rest, your weary kitchen ever-giving
Delectable biscuits , chicken, and pies
Oh so tender, once you walked among the living
And now, your time has passed, My Pies and Thighs

Your biscuits and gravy where matched by no other
Your key-lime pie, mac & cheese, and your beans
were so good they made me want to slap my mother
And then go back for seconds for your collard greens

The line wrapped around the block, people came so far
To say goodbye, auf wiedersehen, adieu,
But cry not, oh hungry hipsters, cry not
For you will rise once more, serving chicken anew

People Who Live in Gingerbread Houses Should Not Throw Stones

2008-01-15T19:35:00.001-05:00

I admit I grew up with some geeky tendencies. You are reading the blog of a girl who had near-complete sets of Marvel trading cards (1992-1994). Collecting all of the holograms was a bitch. Phoenix and the Scarlet Witch were my best friends, and not only could I gaze upon their expertly rendered visages, but I could also read interesting facts about them on the reverse sides. On a weird tangential note, I was always bothered that the cards measured not only speed and strength, but also intelligence. It bummed me out to know that Daredevil was less intelligent than the Silver Surfer. I mean come on! Daredevil went to law school! The Silver Surfer catches rad space waves! That just doesn't seem fair. Anyhoo, I would use these cards to enact make-believe scenarios while most girls were playing house with their Barbies. The only house I'm interested in playing with is Hugh Laurie. ME-OW.

One geeky thing I could never get into was model-building. I just couldn't see the point of spending so much time expertly replicating the Millennium Falcon and not even get to play with it afterwards. While I couldn't understand the motivation, I was always in awe of the dedication and craftsmanship. Because of this long-standing admiration to the craft of model-building, I ventured out this last holiday season to see the many gingerbread houses that New York had to offer.

One particularly cold and snowy weekend, I dragged Cue up to the New York Botanical Gardens in the Bronx for their Gingerbread Adventures exhibit. Five New York pastry chefs became honorary geeks for the holidays.

Ruth Seidler of JollyBe Bakery in Park Slope, Brooklyn scrapped the house idea altogether, and created a bird-themed stained glass bell.

Complete with a silver handle and (marzipan?) ribbon.

Mark Tasker of Balthazar created a true New York-style gingerbread house by replicating the Empire State Building.

I especially dig the use of props.

I wish I could get a better shot of the offering from Jill Adams of The Cake Studio, but alas, I lack the height. I just couldn't capture all of the animals and fairies that studded her gingerbread forest in one frame. Just check out the detail on that snake. That kind of steady hand can truly come in handy when putting the finishing touch on your Starship Enterprise replica.

Kate Sullivan of LovinSullivanCakes made a little something for all the sci-fi fans out there: a gingerbread house on the moon. The peppermint details were... out of this world? Heh....heh....heh. Yup. Sorry.

My personal favorite was the gingerbread castle from Kaye Hansen and Liv Hansen of Riveria Bakehouse.

Both mother and daughter share a crazy attention to detail. Just check out the shingles! Minty fresh!

Unfortunately, I couldn't spot too many gingerbread houses around the rest of the city, but I did see this gem over at the Chelsea Market.

Aw yeah.

As I previously mentioned, I lack the patience and motivation to make one of these confectionary creations, but I seeing all of those edible habitats made me crave that spicy gingerbread flavor. So, I went home and baked up a true New York classic: Claudia Fleming's Gingerbread from the Gramercy Tavern.

Instead of Guinness, I used McGovern's Oatmeal Stout, which added a lovely background note. This cake was insanely moist, and really spicy, but not all that great when eaten right out of the oven. It takes a day for the cake to really get its act together. While I may not make elaborate sculptures, I can dig gingerbread, the unofficial sweet treat of geeks everywhere, with the rest of them.

Totonnos: A Girl by Any Other Name Would Smell.

2007-09-24T20:39:00.000-04:00

As a young Krys, I had many a nickname. Krystopheles. Krystotle. Kryskadekaphobia. But no nickname was more enduring than the name bestowed upon me by mother: Pizza.

If you couldn’t already guess, I was dubbed Pizza because of my insatiable lust for carb and cheese-laden pie. I didn’t mind this nickname so much before puberty, but with my adolescent skin, it took on a new cruelty-filled connotation.

Surprisingly, even with the trauma of being reminded daily of my less than flawless face, I have always had a soft spot for the pizza pie. While my choices in Florida were mainly between Papa John’s and Domino’s, my residence in Brooklyn definitely has its pizza perks. September 2nd marked my 1 year anniversary in my Brooklyn apartment, and Q and I decided to celebrate by trekking out to Coney Island, to feast upon some old-school pizza.

The line outside Totonno’s Pizzeria on Neptune Ave. wasn’t nearly as daunting as the line for Grimaldi’s, and infinitely more organized than Di Fara’s. You merely stand outside the door and patiently wait with the other patrons for a seat to free up inside. Be forewearned, Totonno’s does not offer pizza by the slice so you must order a whole pie. Luckily, I only eat pizza by the pie, so this was no problem for me.

The charming interior transports you to the pizza parlors of yore. The service is friendly and they have a nice selection of Brooklyn Brewery beers to wash down your meal. We ordered our usual combo of pepperoni and garlic, and the results were tremendous.

The sauce was sweeter than most pizza sauces, and it reminded me of my favorite Italian place in Florida (Pizza Time in Coral Springs. SHOUTOUT!), which used a very sweet marinara for their pizza and pasta. The crust had a beautiful char courtesy of their impressive coal-burning oven.

Overall, I have to say that I prefer the pie at Di Fara’s, but I definitely prefer the atmosphere at Totonno’s. I guess I’ll just have to go back to both of them to be sure. Sigh. Even though my face has cleared up, I don’t think that Pizza is a nickname that I’ll ever outgrow.

Doughnut Plant: Peanut Butter Jelly and a Baseball Bat

2007-08-27T21:13:00.000-04:00

A few weekends ago, Q and I headed into Manhattan (a rare weekend event) to try out Shopsin’s new location in the Essex Market. However, much to our dismay, the Essex Market is not open on Sundays--information that was lurking somewhere in my Krys-brain, but which failed to make itself known. That’s what you get for not using Google before you walk out the door.

So, we found ourselves, locked outside of the market, screaming and clawing on the doors, and then we realized that tastiness was just steps away at ye old Doughnut Plant, a magical destination which doubles as Homer Simpson's dream workplace. Yes, yes, you can get Doughnut Plant donuts at many purveyors in New York, but they really are best when fresh from the source.

I dug into a sunflower seed doughnut, their seasonal offering de jour. I have to admit, I felt a little crunchy and in touch with Mother Earth. The sweet, nutty flavor haunted my dreams, and now my breakfast choice happens to be sunflower seed butter on toast. I also now use canvas bags when shopping at the farmer's market. I'm so impressionable.

Q chose a peanut butter and jelly doughnut, an unusual choice for him, as he normally avoids jelly-filled goods.

I really enjoyed how even the jelly-filled doughnuts had holes. I always get sad when filled doughnuts looked so bloated and sad next to the sexy yeast doughnuts with their perfect holes. They were always the outcasts of the fried dough world.

Ooh, and they peanut butter doughnut was filled with blueberry jelly.

The only downside of the day was the fact that The Buckwheat Boyz' hit single became lodged in my brain. This wasn't so much a downside as the best thing to happen to me in weeks.

ITSPEANUTBUTTERJELLYTIMEPEANUTBUTTERJELLYTIMEPEANUTBUTTERJELLYTIMEPEANUTBUTTERJELLYTIME.

They also had a follow up singled called "Ice Cream and Cake." At least they knew what formula worked for them. Really, what else do you need on a summer's day but awesome tunes and tasty confectionery?

Warming Up to Hill Country

2007-08-26T19:22:00.000-04:00

I admit it. I had preconceived notions about Hill Country before I walked in the door. As you may remember, I had the opportunity to try some of their beef ribs at The Big Apple BBQ aka The Happiest Day of Krys’s Year. Mih. They just weren’t that good. All bone and little squishy meat. As with any new restaurant on the scene, the hype started to build, and I was more and more turned off and confused.

Hill Country was like Jessica Simpson: Texan, loud, seemingly untalented, but considered hot to everyone but me.

So, I had pretty much made up my mind about the place before I walked in. I sidled up to the meat counter and grudgingly ordered 1/2 pound of the moist brisket (the deckle), 1/4 pound of the market chicken, and 1 ring of Kreuz Market Sausage, shipped from Texas. Just in case this wasn't enough to sate my ever-growing appetite, I ordered a small portion of Texas Black-Eyed Caviar on the side.

It was a charming set-up, I admit. Everyone was super-friendly, and it was pretty much a cafeteria-style process. You ordered your meat at one counter, your sides at another, and a waiter will make sure you have a refreshing beverage to wash down your cholesterol. I wanted to hate it, but I was starting to become seduced.

The brisket was a bit fat-ladden, but you couldn't accuse it of being dry. That sucker was moist. Moist and flavorful. I think it may be the best brisket that I've had in NYC, and that's including Katz's. Admitedly, brisket isn't my favorite cut of meat, but this was damn tasty.

Never having been to Texas, I had never tasted a Kreuz Market Sausage. Yum. It was impossible to take a semi-appetizing photo, because the butcher's paper became increasingly more grease-stained. I take that as a sign of quality.

A true standout of the meal turned out to be the market chicken. Even the white meat was moist and tender, and the smoky-sweet skin didn't need any additional sauce.

Okay, fine. It's a good restaurant. Are you happy? I tried to find fault, and I just couldn't. My only complaint it that the black-eyed pea caviar was a little dry and not all that noteworthy, but that is really being nit-picky. I really, really enjoyed Hill Country. That doesn't mean that I have to put Ms. Simpson on my ipod.

And finally, to clear up any doubts I had, the wetnaps proved that everything is indeed bigger in Texas.

New York Snackshot: Guaranteed So Hot

2007-08-18T08:49:00.001-04:00

It'll burn your face off.

Palo Santo: My Aquatic Fantasy

2007-08-14T08:33:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I view my life like an outsider watching a movie. In it, there's a sassy guardian angel, dispensing sage advice with a kicky attitude, kind of like Queen Latifah. While the Queen boosts my confidence while teaching me the importance of keeping it real, I also have a personal cupid of sorts. Chef Jacques Gautier of Palo Santo has been creating my most romantic meals since his days at La Brunette, a fantastic French-Carribean restaurant in Williamsburg.

Whenever I ate there, I felt like Gautier was personally ensuring that Q would fall madly in love with me as he had another oyster amuse bouche. Gautier was my own personal Sebastian the Crab, crooning "Kiss De Girl."

When La Brunette closed it's doors, I had no choice but to teach myself how to cook (actually, Queen Latifah may have pushed me in that direction), but I kept my eyes peeled as to what Gautier was doing next. Because the whole world revolves around me, Chef Gautier opened a new restaurant, Palo Santo in a brownstone in nearby Park Slope. It has quickly become a favorite.

On a recent visit, we started with a green gazpacho with toasted pinenuts.

The gazpacho had a tang of watermelon, and the pinenuts and drizzle of olive oil provided a wonderful textural contrast. The soup was cool and refreshing, especially when eaten in their sunny back room overlooking a soothing fountain.

Because Chef Gautier is Sebastian the Crab in my head, I subconsciously adhered to an aquatic menu. I can't remember the name of our next dish, but our waitress explained it was a peruvian street food. I love street food, and I'm willing to try all types, including skewered duck hearts.

These were delicious. Again, the addition of yukon gold potatoes and green onions made the texture so much more interesting. You can tell that texture is a big thing with me. For his main dish, Q ordered a coconut clam stew.

I can't speak to the flavor of the dish, but isn't it pretty?!? The presentation of the stew blew me away. Q certainly seemed to love it. Personally, I decided upon the seared tuna.

I wish that I was able to photograph more of the accompanying veggies, because they were as much the star as the tuna. Blue potatoes, radishes, and string beans were all tossed in a light, lemony vinegar, the perfect crunchy side to the tuna. While my dish may have appeared a little light in flavor compared to Q's hearty stew, I thought it was perfect.

Palo Santo has a bar alongside the kitchen, where patrons can submit to the will of Chef Gautier and eat his tasting menu, consisting of whatever he wants to make for you. While I am incredibly tempted to do so, I don't want to ruin the fantasy that a tiny crab is back there, orchestrating my romantic evening. Sigh. I guess I'm willing to sacrifice that fantasy for an amazing meal. At least I'll always have Queen Latifah.

New York Snackshot: Blue Cheese

2007-08-01T07:53:00.000-04:00

My favorite form of transportation.

Atlantic ChipShop: Comfort Food 2.0

2007-07-29T21:39:00.000-04:00

Deep frying is an extreme sport—it shouldn't be attempted by the faint of heart. That's why I'm more than happy to leave the hard work to the nice folks at the Atlantic Avenue Chip Shop. They will happily batter and fry anything your imagination can muster. There's even a place on their website where you can suggest things to fry. I've had their fish and chips (the haddock is amazing), and I've dreamt about their deep fried pizza, but they always seem to be out when I'm there. They just don't want me to be happy.

I was perusing the sides a few weeks ago, and I have no idea how I missed it before... fried macaroni and cheese. The next generation of comfort food. Those words are a challenge, a dare to test your capacity for unhealthy food. I'm not one to back down from a dare. I like mac and cheese, and I like deep fried things. Bring it on. ("Is a great movie" was the end of that sentence.)

I happen to be a fan of crunchy breadcrumb topping on my mac and cheese. The deep-fried exterior had the flavor and the crunch of the traditional breadcrumb topping, but made exponentially more deadly and delicious. The ball shape took me back to my days of elementary school cafeterias, where the mac and cheese was always lovingly served with an ice cream scoop.

Speaking of serving food with an ice cream scoop, Q swears that tuna salad was not only served with a scoop in his elementary school, it was served in a cone. I don't believe him. Was this anyone else's experience? Is our public school food that awesome in our country?

I love that they served it on a bed of lettuce. I was able to convince myself that this was actually a crunchy, gooey salad. The capacity for delusion is very important when eating with me. I shared this orb of deliciousity with two other people, but I definitely recommend ending an Atlantic Avenue bar crawl with a mac and cheese ball of your very own. I just don't recommend finishing your deep-fried meal with a fried reese's peanut butter cup. Oh, what am I saying. Of course I do.

New York Snackshot: Pies Don't Get Fired

2007-07-28T10:15:00.001-04:00

pies, originally uploaded by tokyohanna.

They get burned.

Hello Moto

2007-07-23T09:10:00.000-04:00

There are so many restaurants in New York, but so few hidden gems. Some of the greatest eating experiences in the city have been blogged about so many times, and by the time you go, you feel like you've already been.

Q and I have been interested in Moto, a small cafe under the elevated J and M trains, ever since we walked by on our way to Pies and Thighs, months ago. Apparently, the cafe was featured in the documentary, Eat This New York, which is going on my Netflix queue riiiight... now.

Excellent. Position 55. I really need to watch my dvds in a timely fashion. Anyhoo, besides its prominence in this documentary, I really haven't read too much about Moto. Stepping inside, I couldn't help but really feel like I'd stumbled on a true hidden destination. There isn't a sign on the door, and the inside makes you feel like you're in another country in another time. It's kind of like a French cafe mashed up with an automotive repair shop.

The brunch menu was a bit small, mostly consisting of eggs and paninis, but there were some standouts, ranging from grilled doughnuts to the date cake. There doesn't seem to be a consistent cuisine, just as there doesn't seem to be a consistent music genre for the live acts that play during the week. Turkey, Italy, and France seemed to all be represented, but I had already settled on the apple pancake with creme fraiche.

Mmmm. The pancake was thick without being too dense, and every bite was packed with apples. Its size is deceptively small, but I was mighty full afterwards. There was a bit too much creme fraiche, but that was easily remedied by the power of my spoon.

Just to give you an idea of the sandwiches that dominated the menu, Q had the prosciutto and brie panini with pesto. He thought that the bread was nice and crusty, and the buttery, grassy melted brie paired nicely with the not-too-salty bit o' Parma ham. Pity the pesto was vying for all the attention, but that's by no means a deal breaker. Still a tasty sammich.

Ooh, their coffee was good too. I'm a conflicted Krys. I want people to flock to this restaurant and eat yummy food, but I also want it to remain hidden so I can always get a table. I guess you can't have everything. Sigh. Well, when you do go, be sure to save me a seat.

Momofuku Noodle Bar: FUK YEAH!!!

2007-07-22T13:22:00.000-04:00

Ah, Ramen-- that inexpensive staple of every college student's diet. My greatest victories back in my college years were when I scored an A in Calculus and when I would find a deal for 10 packs of ramen for $1. The latter happened more often than the former, unfortunately. Momofuku Noodle Bar wasn't around back in my NYU days. If it had been, my idea of ramen would have been vastly different.

Even at 10pm, there's a 20 minute wait on a Saturday night to sadle up to the small bar and slurp some noodles. We started with an order of pork buns.

These are like grown-up, delicious sliders from White Castle. The pork belly is extremely fatty and delectably tender. Next time, I may just skip the ramen altogether and have a feast of pork buns.

I decided that an all-pork meal was a bit much, even for me (I'm up to 1.5 pigs total this year methinks), so I decided upon the Chicken Ramen.

I may as well have ordered it with pork. The chicken was cooked under a press on the griddle, and the pressure made the skin crisp and strangely pork-like. I'm a huge fan of chicken cooked under a press (or a brick). While the skin crisps up, the meat remains sooo tender. The broth, made from chicken and pork bones, including some other pork products, was salty and flavorful. The noodles were accompanied with vibrantly green peas and scallions, as well as some bamboo shoots and a thin piece of seaweed. I usually like my noodles a little less soft, but I thought the consistency definitely melded well with the chicken and peas. Afterwards I could feel the pork broth escaping through my pores, but in the best possible way. Like a reverse pork facial.

My only problem with ramen is that I just can't eat it in a semi-attractive manner. I'm the type of girl who twirls her spaghetti with a spoon. It's so hard for me to shove noodles in my mouth with chopsticks and not look like I'm a cow going after some grass. At least with the bar setup, I was just facing the cooks, so it's not like another patron had to watch my glorious, slurping display.

That 25 cent package of ramen in my cupboard used to be a very guilty pleasure, but now, thanks to the popularity of New York ramen joints, I can finally voice my love of ramen with pride. I just need to doctor it up with a little more than an egg, soy sauce, and some peanut butter (hey, don't knock it til you've tried it).

What a Jerk (Chicken)!

2007-07-21T15:24:00.000-04:00

Wow. Sorry I haven't updated in ages. It's been a busy, hot month, and I haven't felt like heating up my already hot kitchen with some cooking action.

Plus, I've been reaaaaally lazy.

However, about a week ago, we had one gorgeous day, and my kitchen was actually a normal temperature. I knew that wouldn't do, so I flipped on the oven to roast something. I usually associate roasting with the fall, but I had my sights set on a recipe for Jerk Chicken from The Soul of a New Cuisine. Mmmmm. The mixture of chiles, cinnamon, and cayenne mixed with roasted vegetables and fruit. Perfect summer fare.

I really don't think there is a more passive-agressive food than Jerk Chicken. Witness the following conversation between Q and me.

Krys: Hey Q. Did you clean the floors today?
Q: No. I'll get to it.
Krys: Eh, that's okay. I'm going to be in the kitchen anyway. I'll just do it while I'm in there.
Q: Whatcha cookin'?
Krys: Jerk chicken.
Q: I'll get the mop.

Even if the name implies resentment, it only has the best intentions-- to love your tongue.

Roasting a chicken is sooo simple, but it has such a big payoff... as long as you can deal with a warm kitchen. But since it was a coolish day, it wasn't a big deal. I rubbed the 4-pound chicken with the jerk spice mix (a blend of garlic, jalapenos, allspice, cinnamon, cayenne, brown sugar, white pepper, thyme, salt, ginger, scallions, lime juice, red wine vinegar, and the blood of a virgin goat). I also spread some of the jerk mix over some cubed veggies like yukon gold potatoes, sweet potatoes, and parsnip, along with some cubed fruits. The recipe calls for quince, but since they're not in season, I just used some pears and apples. The result was both sweet and spicy, just like my most favorite jerk in all the land-- Q.

I could use some help cleaning the bathroom... maybe I'll make up a batch of bastard stew.

More Than Meets the Fry

2007-07-09T21:47:00.001-04:00

There was another major event on July 4th besides the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Competition. I'm talking, of course, about Michael Bay's opus, Transformers.

Am I the only one getting a little weary of all of the 80s remakes lately? Although, I cannot WAIT for the inevitable CSI: Duckburg from Jerry Bruckheimer. For reals. I can just hear the scary trailer voice now. "IN A WORLD... WHERE LIFE IS LIKE A HURRICANE." Maybe Haley Joel Osment can play Huey, Dewey, and Louie.

I have too much time on my hands.

I've been hesitant to pony up nearly $11 for it, only because I don't really want to see another piece of childhood nostalgia raped by Michael Bay.

However, I had no problem ponying up cash for the most genius piece of cross-promotional merchandise I have ever seen.

Meet Optimash Prime. Oh, how I love puns.

Unfancy Feast: Dispatches from the 2007 Unfancy Food Show

2007-07-09T08:50:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I ventured into ye olde Williamsburg to East River Bar for the First Annual (I hope) Unfancy Food Show. While it was a little small, I thought it was a great idea and a great way to meet food purveyors who may not travel on the Greenmarket circuit.

Personally, I can't think of a better way to spend a hot summer's day than to hang out in a backyard, sip a beer, and taste wonderful products that I may not usually get to sample. The definite highlight was the amazing smell emanating from the grill. The bratwurst and burgers from Fleisher's Meats not only smelled great, but they were probably the most flavorful meat that I've sampled for home use. At $6/lb for the ground beef, it is a little more expensive than my local butcher, but it's definitely an affordable splurge.

The bratwurst was nice and spicy, and the burgers apparently didn't have any additional seasoning, but they were paired with some blue cheese from the nearby stand occupied by Jasper Hill Farm.

I know this is going to sound crazy, but burgers and cheese are an amazing combination. I know! Who knew? The Bayley Hazen blue cheese was so creamy and tangy and surprisingly mild for a blue cheese. I'm personally not a huge fan of blue cheese but this was delicious.

Both Fleisher's and Jasper Hill products can be found at Marlow & Sons. I popped into their market afterwards and it is really quite wonderful. I can't wait to eat at the actual restaurant. It's on my list. Oh yes. It's on my list. I can only hope that next year's show remains as down to earth as this one, where you actually get to chat with the wonderful folks who shove things in your mouth. After you chew and swallow, of course. I may be unfancy, but I'm still classy.

HOT DOG!

2007-07-05T23:04:00.000-04:00

Happy 4th of July!!!! Although it's the 5th. Darn. Eh, I'm a little late. Deal with it.

I've been spending the last few weeks pondering the most patriotic of all foods: the hot dog. Although it may be German in origin, it is all-american, like the inverse of David Hasselhoff. I noticed that Off The Broiler hosted a supermarket hot dog tasting with very impressive scientific dedication. I wasn't as interested in finding the absolute best hot dog out there. I was more interested in exploring the many varied frankfurter options that New York had to offer. Thus began my quest.

Gray’s Papaya
First Stop- Gray’s Papaya! When I first thought about writing about Gray's Papaya on this blog, I thought of going all out. I was all set to write a parody of Gray's Anatomy with characters like the restaurant owner, Merde Gray, and her boyfriend, McGreasy. They were going to have the most boring adventures and be the most hateable characters, just like the TV show. Then I bit into one of their hot dogs, and I realized they just weren't worth the effort.

Gray's uses Sabrett's dogs and buns, and while they are very good franks with a wonderful *snap*, I still felt like dying a half hour later. I felt like the grease was forming a pool in my belly button. I think this may be because of the onions I dared to have as a condiment. I do have to give props to the fact that you can get two dogs and a drink for under four bucks, but honestly, one dog was enough for me.

I began to have serious doubts about this hot dog round-up. So much so, that I recruited Q to actually review a few dogs of his own. There's just way too much out there for one girl to cover on her own. It's hard out there for a Krys.

New York Hot Dog Company
Q here. Hearing of fancy hot-doggery in my work hood, I proceeded to the New York Hot Dog Company for lunch. The place has been described as an upscale hot dog stand, but in 10 years, after losing its newfangled luster, I highly doubt that this will look a far cry from neighboring mainstay Mike's Papaya, with whom they appear to be competing by the look of their relatively pedestrian, low-cost menu. A reasonable student deal clocks in at a single buck, but my focus was on, em, "classier" fare, I went for the more unusual items on the list: a dog in a knish, and a Kobe beef dog.

Now I know the place just opened, and any newbie should be given the benefit of the doubt until they work out the inevitable kinks, but... To start with, my dog with onions and sauerkraut on a knish came on a bun. No big - I asked for the simple correction, received the order and tucked in. Problem #2 - this time no sauerkraut. Ok, no big deal, though omitting the kraut is a serious sin in my book.

The knish and dog were pretty unremarkable, but combined for some seriously solid fare that saves the trouble of eating a potatoey side actually on the side. Wish it was on a Yonah Schimmel though. Despite the warm weather and heavy dish, I decided I shouldn't head out without getting a Kobe dog, which I haven't seen on too many menus. This time the ordering itself was a minor hassle, as I had to thrice correct the cashier that I wanted blue cheese, not cheddar. Luckily I was watching the (different than last) cook during this back and forth, or I would have wound up with a plain ol' beef dog (valued at $1.50) for the $6 I shelled for the Kobe he failed insert into the bun. Correction made, I returned to the counter and bit in.

I was immediately squirted in the face with hot juice from my hearty tube steak (...hehe). Overall, nicely cooked, and with an ideally crisp crunch to the casing, but I'm not sure my frankfurter palette is refined enough to justify the $4.50 price difference for what I can only define as "slightly meatier" than a standard all-beef.

Overall, it's not a big enough step up from the Papayas of the city to keep me interested, and the service, if they don't work it out, will be its demise.

Crif Dogs

I have many a time approached Crif Dogs' inviting "Eat Me" sign and loped down its steps sober, and can attest that even the uninebriated tongue appreciates the deep-fried, bacon-wrapped tube-o-goodness found within. However, the likelihood of pausing to think about just what I'm shoving down my gullet is much higher without the senses dulled, so this reviewing trip was dutifully performed under the influence after a stop at Crif's next door speakeasy, PDT (Please Don't Tell). This is not a PDT review, so I'll scarcely address the incongruous cocktail bar, entered via telephone booth, save to note its negative effect on its next door eatery. But first on to the dog.

As it was nearing morning, it seemed apropos to order up the Good Morning, the aforementioned artery-bomb, wrapped in a fried egg and an unnaturally orange slice of American cheese.

This is a breakfast sandwich with a death wish, and while I can't quite taste the dog itself for all the sodium, the cumulative effect is a salty, satisfying delight. From impoverished college memory, this sucker is filling, though it will set you back $4.25, leaving little in your work-study cash strapped wallet for glorious accompaniments like cheese-covered tater tots and teeth destroying RC Cola.

Crif Dogs, lying near the nexus of St. Marks and Ave. A, is pretty much a natural pub-crawl stopover, and as a result of the varied establishments around, its always drawn quite a range of crowds, but the addition of PDT, on this night, seems to have brought on an onslaught of monied Wall Streeter dudes and dolled up clutch-toting lasses, which kinda detracts from the stoner-chic shabbiness of the place. Being new,the attached bar is so popular that Crif itself now comes off as the sideshow, not the main event. Also, it looks as if the addition has resulted in the disappearance of the dog-counter's beer taps and a few seats. But amid all this unwelcome change, this deathly menu will always have a place on the itinerary of any East Village crawl.

Willie’s Dawgs
Okee, Krys here. Stop #4 was Willie’s Dawgs, a relative newcomer to the speciality hot dog world, located in Park Slope. This was a little out of my way, and I almost ended up skipping this stop, but boy am I glad I didn’t. This was the biggest surprise on my weiner quest (heh heh heh).

The store itself is rather unassuming. I didn’t notice a large sign overhead, but the open doors and the delicious smell of summer clued me in. I decided upon a “Carlos,” or a beef dog with cheddar, salsa, and jalapeno peppers, on a fresh-baked challah roll.

The frank was more substantial than most and rather delicious, and I later found that it was a Karl Ehmer frank with natural casing. I am a little concerned about the fact that googling “Karl Ehmer” brings up a few links to e-coli articles, but hell, it was one of the best franks I’ve had in New York. The fresh-baked challah roll was tender, buttery, and delicious. Soooo much better than the fresh-baked rolls at ye olde Subway shoppe. I thought the roll held up very well to the strong flavors of the cheese and the jalapenos, and I imagine that the salsa would make a weaker bun too soggy. That may fly with hot dog eating competitions, but I prefer my bun to be in a solid state, not a liquid.

They also score points for being one of the few hot dog joints offering outdoor seating and dessert. Their peanut butter pie looked damn good, but if you have room after eating hot dogs, yous gots problems.

F&B
F&B Gudt-food was the last stop on my carnivorous journey.

After spending a bit of time studying their menu (complete with pictures! You don’t even have to read to enjoy tubular meat), I settled on the “Farm Dog,” a chicken dog with pickled corn relish.

The dog didn’t have that refreshing *snap* that I’ve so come to love. In fact, it was a little chewy. I’m not sure if that was a result of having poultry origins, or maybe from the method of cooking. In either case, the dog was a little bland, but the corn relish was a great addition. The frites were crisp and delicious and definitely the star of the meal, which is never a good sign. They offered other tasty side dishes such as sweet potato fries and fried green beans, and like any good Belgian frite place, they offered a small variety of dips for the frites. Yum.

After all these wieners, we figured ourselves in fighting shape for the Nathan's Hot Dog Contest.

Having eaten all the above over the course of weeks, however, we didn't quite qualify, so we instead watched from half a block away as 17 men and women exercised our god given right as Americans to consume all that lies before us. Standing next to a group of vegetarian protesters, we cheered on upstart Joey Chestnut as he proceeded to topple his own world record and unseat six time champ, Takeru Kobayashi, the Michael Jordan of mastication, in a close-to-call match. In the end, the final score came down to 66 to 63, and we watched with patriotic tears in our eyes as the Mustard Belt finally came back to the USA.

Its like the Miracle on Ice. Someday, it will be immortalized in a movie, and Kurt Russell will play Joey's coach. Anyhow, after witnessing the consumption of 576.5 franks consumed in 12 minutes (that's 48 per minute) right before our very eyes, we declined to review Nathan's itself as planned.

And with that, I'm going to the gym. Goodnight.

Tarting It Up at My Block Party

2007-06-29T18:29:00.000-04:00

I’m not one to get starstruck. Whenever I happen to see a “celebrity,” I don’t automatically send an email to Gawker Stalker or run for my cell phone camera. As UsWeekly has told me time and time again, Stars, They’re Just Like Us ™.

That being said, how could anyone who is “just like me” pass up this mixed berry tart?!?

Look at it! It’s beautiful! And delicious! So, how, Heath Ledger and Michelle Williams, how could you just saunter on by and not give it a second glance? They don’t make tarts like this in your Brokeback Mountain or your Dawson’s Creek (except Katie Holmes. ZING!)

Heath, you seem like a tart-loving man, no offense to Michelle. There were many delectable foods on display at our block party, so I can see how you would be overwhelmed by all of the choices and choose to simply walk on by. But really, was there any choice to be made? THAT TART WAS THE PINNACLE OF ALL TARTS.

Stars are apparently nothing like me, because I would have ran over to the buffet parked in the middle of the street and helped myself to tasty desserts, block residence be damned. That’s just how I roll.

Not only was this resplendent pastry on full display, but the most attractive strawberry-rhubarb pie that I have ever had the fortune to bake was right next to it.

Observe how the egg white brushing makes the crust a beautiful shade of golden-brown! Marvel at how the filling isn’t pushing itself out of the sides! Tremble at the masterful slits and the ingenious pinching! I have to say, I’m mighty proud of myself. I have made many a pie in my time, but none that have actually come out resembling pies. Well played, Krys. Well played.

Both recipes came from the massive and unabridged Baking Illustrated from the good folks of Cooks Illustrated. I think I've said it before, but you really can't go wrong with this book. Well, unless you make croissants. I can't figure them out.

Here's a link for the tart recipe, but you'll need to register (there's a free 14 day trial). I actually did modify this recipe a bit, so I'll post my modifications shortly. The strawberry-rhubarb pie was a result of following the recipe to a T, so unfortunately, I can't post that copyrighted recipe here. (SPOILER ALERT: It uses arrowroot as a thickener.) These desserts may not be good enough for the celebrities in my hood, but they certainly are good enough for me.

Ratatouille!!!

2007-06-21T07:34:00.000-04:00

Okay, I just need to take a timeout and express how friggin' excited I am for Ratatouille.

I really think that KFC is missing out not having a promotional tie-in. Rats are somewhat synonymous with the Colonel. I wonder if McDonald's will.

Here is a glimpse of what kind of merchandise is going to be available. There's a radio control Remy. Perfect for my kitchen! Or I could just go down the street and see the real things, but I somehow doubt any of them have aspirations of being chefs.

Check out the preview here. I can't wait for June 29th! I totally seem like a shill here, but I don't care. Adorable pixar rats + a film about cooking = an excited Krys.

Red Hook Ball Fields: Brooklyn Mexican Latin Madness

2007-06-20T21:58:00.000-04:00

Growing up in Florida, I was never a huge fan of summer. Being outside in South Florida when it is 95 degrees and humid sucks. It sucks hard. However, I have discovered that I positively love summers in New York. It can be just as hot and just as humid, but there's always some interesting (and usually cheap) way to enjoy the heat.

I also love summers in New York because of all of the outdoor eating options. As I mentioned in my last post, I basically like eating with lots of other people, whether I know them or not. One of the absolute best places to get your food on is at the soccer fields in Red Hook. I'm trying to think of a good way to describe the Red Hook Ball-Field experience, and "colorful" is way too cliche. Maybe "comfortable."

The Porkchop Express has a great writeup on the history of the Field's food stands here, and a super-handy map. I wish I had discovered this before I went, but I kind of like figuring things out with my stomach.

The stands are located along a small corner of the soccer fields, but it would take days to sample all of the food available. There isn't really a language barrier as all of the venders are super-nice and accomodating when your spanish isn't up to snuff. Smiling and pointing will get you far.

First stop: Soler Dominican for a pork and cheese papusa.

This was my first experience with the papusa, and I didn't realize how similar it is to an arepa. Pork, cheese, and cornmeal are amazing in any country, and the cabbage coleslaw added a great crunch. This was a great start.

Next stop: Ceron Colmbian for an empanada. Unfortunately, I don't think I dig my dumplings deep-fried, which is surprising because I enjoy EVERYTHING deep-fried. I just can't handle greasy food on hot days. Q enjoyed it because it reminded him of a Jamaican patty.

Up next: Rojas Ecuadorian for some mixed ceviche.

Holy crap, this was a lot of food! For $7, we were handed a pint of delicious citrus broth full of shrimp, fish, octopus, and squid. Everything was sooo tender and refreshing. The octopus was a bit chewy, but not in a bad way. I'm used to ceviche being less brothy and more like salsa, so this was a bit different. It was more like a cold fish soup, but it was so delicious. I wish that they served it at every sporting event, but I somehow don't think Yankees fans would go for that.

More food: Carrello Guatamalan for a fried chicken taco.

I have memories of eating those microwave taquito thingees in the afternoons when I got home from high school. I also liked Hot Pockets at that time. I apparently was a fratboy stoner when I was 16. Anyhoo, I had no idea what how similar they were to poop-shaped cardboard before I had a real, homemade taquito. The chicken was so flavorful and the tomato sauce on top was so friggin' good. I hearby dub it the crackito. Yup.

This wouldn't be a post if I didn't include some pork porn. (I can't wait to see how many google hits I get for that). Final stop: Hernandez Huaraches for a spicy pork taco.

At that point, we couldn't fit a whole huarache in our rapidly expanding bellies, so we just grabbed a taco for dessert. The pork was a little dry, so it may be better to grab your meat-stuffed tortillas earlier in the day, but it was nice and crisp. It had just the right amount of cooling lettuce and cheese to counterbalance the salty, spicy pork.

The best part of this feast was that I think we spent around $15 for all of this food. Any time you can stuff Q and me for that cheap is quite an impressive feat.

In just a few hours, I had tasted amazing home-cooking from around Latin America. It was almost like a summer in Florida, going around the world at Epcot Center, but sooooo, soooo, (soooooo) much better. This is why I like summers in New York.

Unfortunately, the stands are in danger right now. I won't go into a huge amount of detail, but you can read about everything here at The Gowanus Lounge. If this post interested you at all in this amazing Brooklyn experience, visit http://savesoccertacos.blogspot.com/, write to Parks Commissioner Drian Benepe, and get your butt over to the Ball Fields to eat some tacos. If only eating tacos solved every problem. Wait, it kinda does.

2007 Big Apple BBQ: My Continuing Journey to Becoming a Pork Product

2007-06-19T22:00:00.000-04:00

Two weekends ago, we left the safe haven of Brooklyn to attend the 5th Annual Big Apple BBQ Block Party in Madison Square Park. We put on our finest elastic pants and practiced our stretches. We weren't going for the spectacle... we meant business. The Big Apple Barbecue brought together some of the finest barbecue from across the country, and by gum we were going to stuff ourselves on tasty offerings from across the land. It was our patriotic duty.

We had stopped at the BBQ in 2006, but we were young and unprepared for the tastiness. Not this year. We had our map and our plan of attack all ready. As soon as we arrived, we made a beeline for the whole hog sandwich from Mitchell's BBQ from Wilson, North Carolina. Ed Mitchell is a genius. The meat itself is so tender and flavorful, seasoned with salt and some secret seasonings (maybe they weren't so secret, but I like the mystery), and bits of the cooked skin chopped up for good measure. The only downside is occasionally finding a bit of bone, but that's an obstacle I'm willing to face.

The picture does not represent how truly delicious this is. I'm telling you. If you like pork, and you have the opportunity to try this sandwich, DO IT.

We braved another long line to sample some baby back ribs from 17th Street Bar & Grill from Murphysboro, Illinois. The pitmaster, Mike Mills, seems to be somewhat of a legend on the barbecue circuit, and I trusted the extremely long line to steer me to yumminess

I was able to peek at the ribs inside the giant smoker. Yum.

I think the portions at the event were pretty generous. If you're sharing every dish and have your heart on trying most of the out-of-towners, you'll be quite stuffed. Anyhoo, the ribs did not disappoint. The meat was tender, but not too saucy. It broke away from the bone cleanly, which is apparently desirable in a rib. I just knew it was tasty.

Since the line for the 17th Street Bar and Grill was so long, Q ran to Ubon's "Champion's Choice' from Yazoo, Mississippi to grab some pulled pork shoulder. The line was nonexistent, so he was able to quickly procure some line-waiting fuel.

Eh. There was a reason the line was short. The pork itself lacked a bit in flavor. While it certainly was good, it didn't compare to the other offerings.

We then waddled over to the beer garden for a breather.

I think Madison Square Park should always have a beer garden set up. Screw Shake Shack.

The offerings weren't just limited to pork. There was beef too! The Salt Lick BBQ from Driftwood, Texas offered beef brisket and sausage. I'm not a huge sausage fan, but it was nicely spicy and had a good snap. The brisket was very good, but I thought the best thing about The Salt Lick was their selection of sauces. I should have seen if I could buy a bottle. Oh well.

At this point, our pants were getting a wee bit tight. We met up with our friend Jill, who is now living in Baltimore, so we went by the New York offerings so she could quickly catch up. We went by our favorite BBQ joint in the city, Dinosaur Bar-B-Que, and sampled their pulled pork shoulder.

Oh Yazoo, Mississippi, now THIS is pulled pork shoulder! Delicious! Dinosaur can do no wrong in my eyes. The sandwich was sweet and tangy, but the meat flavor always shone through.

While we were strolling by the New York stands, we decided to try the offerings from Hill Country, a new BBQ joint that had just opened that weekend. Hill Country offers Texas-style BBQ, meaning beef! We bit into one of their huge beef ribs.

Unfortunately, most of the rib was bone. The rib definitely did not live up to the hype going around about this place, but I'll give the restaurant a shot.

MAXIMUM MEAT CAPACITY!!! We were heading into a giant coma brought on by copious amounts of beef and pork. Wait. What's that giant vat?

Brunswick Stew, eh? That sounds a bit dubious. Wait, doesn't that usually have squirrel in it? Sure does smell good though. Ok, maybe a little taste...

This tied as my absolute favorite thing here (along with Mitchell's whole hog sandwich). They passed out recipe cards so you can be sure of what you're eating, but I'm not going to ruin the surprise for you. I'll definitely need to try my hand at making it, but the recipe card is for a few gallons of the stuff. May need to cut that down a bit. Maybe.

You can buy a Bubba's Fast Pass, which allows you to go in shorter VIP style lines, but I actually really like the experience of waiting in line. Everyone is there for the same thing, and they kill time by sharing stories and experiences. Nothing brings people together like delicious barbecue, cold beer, and a beautiful day in the park. Sigh. Life is good.

The Cookie Project: Tood (aka Sister Todd aka Mike)

2007-06-02T18:35:00.000-04:00

(sung to the tune of Coconut by Harry Nilsson)

I need to find a recipe
For coconut and lime
But it has to be a quick one
For I’m low on time

I’ll take a lime and some coconut
And mix them both up
I’ll take a lime and some coconut
And mix them both up

I said, Cookbook, can you tell me what to bake
I said, COOKBOOK, I want cookies not cake
I said, Cookbook, can you tell me what to make
I said, COOKBOOK, for Tood and not for Jake

PERFECT! Lime Coconut Snowballs!

Whenever I think of Tood, I fondly remember him singing this song passionately at karaoke for his birthday. That moment on loop in my mind best exemplifies his soul. Plus he enjoys a good no-bake cookie, so that was a bit of a bonus.

I modified Cooking Light’s recipe for Key Lime Coconut Snowballs. I used regular limes rather than key limes, and I cut out the additional sugar so the lime and coconut flavor would shine through. I also increased the size, which kinda defeats the “cooking light” purpose, but a low-fat cookie wasn’t my intention. I think the result suits Tood, although next time I’d double the recipe. Tood’s a growing boy!

Tood’s Lime Coconut Snowballs
2/3 c. graham cracker crumbs (smashed in a Ziploc baggie)
6 tbsp. sweetened condensed milk (nonfat)
1 tsp. grated lime rind
Fresh lime juice from 3 ½ limes
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 c. shredded unsweetened coconut, divided (I used Bob’s Red Mill)

Mix the graham cracker crumbs, condensed milk, rind, juice, and vanilla in a medium bowl. Add 2/3 c. coconut and beat with a mixer at medium speed for about 1 minute. I used a stand mixer, but a hand mixer would work perfectly. Cover and chill for 20-30 minutes.

Shape mixture into balls, about 1 tablespoon each. Place remaining 1/3 c. in a shallow bowl or a pie tin. Roll balls in coconut.

Pacifico - Brooklyn Mexican Madness (Part Three)

2007-06-01T20:55:00.000-04:00

Okay, it’s been a few weeks since I’ve been back from Iceland, but between work and enjoying the warm weather in NYC, I’ve been severely neglecting this blog. NO MORE! I hit my work deadlines this week, so by george, I will start updating again! I promise! You believe me, right? I really don’t lie very often (and when I do, you can totally tell), so my intentions are sincere.

Vacation was wonderful, but it was really nice to be back home in Brooklyn. So nice in fact, that it was cause for celebration. What does that mean, boys and girls?

BROOKLYN MEXICAN MADNESS!!!

We first tried Pacifico about a year ago, and were pleasantly surprised. The margaritas were nice and we fell in love with the casual outdoor space. Unfortunately, our experience this time wasn’t as great.

The outdoor space is still pretty awesome. Apparently, they have a backyard, but I’ve only sat in the front. I like the kitschy string lights and seemingly uncontrived messiness. That’s how I roll. I like things kitschy and messy.

Since this is the year of the pig, I ordered a burrito with their pork carnitas. I made a point in asking about the type of beans in the burrito. While I enjoy beans in all their incarnations, I looove black beans in a burrito. I was assured that there were indeed black beans, and so my decision was swayed from the fish tacos, my backup choice.

The burrito was about the size of my calf. Okay, maybe not that long, but the girth was impressive (that’s what she said). I dug in, and was struck by two things: the pork was pretty bland and THOSE BEANS AREN’T BLACK! I haven’t been so disappointed in a burrito since the Democratic party lost the presidential election. (Think about that for a while. The joke totally worked in my head.) The price was roughly $8, which is about the same price as a Chipotle burrito, which is the same size and tastier.

I’m a trooper, so I ate it anyway. Q ordered the yardbird enchiladas, which looked fantastic, but also suffered from being a little too bland.

I still think the outdoor space at Pacifico is great, and it lends itself well to sipping margaritas and munching nachos in the sun with friends. Even if the food was mildly disappointing, I’m still drawn by the temptation of cheese and tequila. It’s in my blood.

Thrir Frakkar: The Taste of Christmas and Facial Muscles

2007-05-21T21:36:00.000-04:00

Top 3 Tasty Chins

3. Jay Leno.

This one is obvious. It’s so obvious because it’s true. That is one meaty, tender looking chin.

2. Bruce Campbell

Mr. Campbell has written a book entitled If Chins Could Kill. The key word being “if.” His cannot kill, and therefore I am higher on the food chain.

1. The Cod

Who knew?

Q and I sprung for a nice meal one night at Thrir Frakkar (Three Coats), a cozy seafood restaurant right around the corner from our guesthouse. It was off the main street in a more residential area, and it definitely felt like a place where both tourists and locals stop in for a tasty morsel.

We began our meal with an order of scallops and an order of reindeer pate. Suck on that, Rudolph! The pate was rich and venison-like, but a little more magical. Like you’re ingesting Christmas.

For our main courses we had a grilled lamb steak and the aforementioned cod chins. I can’t think of any way to describe the lamb other than pure. The sheep in Iceland are released into the mountains in the spring to graze on the grass freely. In the autumn, they are herded back, and there are usually festivals accompanying this event. So I hear. Anyhoo, the sheep are totally grass-fed, and I believe the use of hormones is prohibited. The difference in taste is remarkable.

The cod chins were actually the bottom parts of the jaws, cheeks included, I believe. Parts were a bit chewy-- perhaps the connective tissues? The chins themselves had a similar texture to scallops. They were prepared in a rich, creamy sauce. It became a bit overpowering at times, but we couldn't... stop... eating. The chins were bite-sized, whereas Mr. Campbell's chin could feed a small army (of darkness). His chin wouldn't be nearly as tender.

We were stuffed afterwards, but we had to try the skyr brulee, made with the traditional Icelandic yogurt-like cheese, skyr. I failed to take a picture because I was too busy devouring the entire thing. It was so light and almost mousse-like, but topped with the same wonderful caramelized sugar as creme brulee.

This was one of our few deviations from Icelandic fast food, and it was worth every krona. Q was a little sad that our meal was over. Chin up!

My Favorite Sign in Iceland

2007-05-18T08:49:00.000-04:00

If I were the type of gal to get a tattoo without obsessing over the design for five years, I would totally get this image somewhere on my person:

This is a sign outside the cafe at the BSI Bus Terminal, where we got our Flybus to take us to and from the airport. The french fries jutting from the mouth are what elevates this image to greatness.

Vitabar: Stinky Salvation in Reykjavik

2007-05-18T08:25:00.001-04:00

I like stinky foods. There, I've said it. Garlic. Stinky cheese. Onions. I like being able to smell the food on my breath hours after I've eaten it. I know after you eat a particularly pungent food, it's proper etiquette to chew a piece of gum afterwards to ensure your companions retain consciousness. I'm just too selfish to place my friends' need for oxygen over the tasty flavor in my mouth.

To say that the forget-me-not burger at Vitabar located in downtown Reykjavik was stinky is like saying that Paris Hilton is skanky. True, but an understatement. Topped with garlic sauce and copious amounts of blue cheese, this burger ensured that everybody we met that night would remember us.

The patty was thin, but juicy. Also, Vitabar offers a combo special with a cheeseburger and fries for only 650 ISK (about $10 USD), making Vitabar one of the best food deals around. The cheeseburger was topped with a hamburger sauce that seemed omnipresent in Iceland, and it tasted an awfully lot like Thousand Island or Big Mac special sauce.

The atmosphere was English Pubby, and the scene seemed local. A combination of families and young folks fueling up for the nightlife filled the booths in the small space. They also have a liquor license, so you can have a pint of Viking beer along with your artery-clogging burger. Just skip the breath spray afterwards.

The Sea Baron: Lobster and Fishbeef

2007-05-13T16:03:00.000-04:00

Hi folks! Well, we're back from Iceland, and boy are our arms tired! HAHAHA. These are the jokes, people. Sigh. Along with our memories, we also brought back colds, so I'll hopefully have a bit of time to write some heavily medicated posts about our vacation food adventures.

We started our trip in the capital city of Reykjavik, by far the most populous part of Iceland (over half of the country's population resides in the greater Reykjavik area). A lot has been made out of how expensive Reykjavik is and with good reason. Quite a bit of the food and goods are imported, as most of the land isn't suitable for growing food. However, being from New York, we were used to hunting for a bargain.

Our first meal was at Saegreiffin, or the Sea Baron, a little seafood shack located near Reykjavik's harbor. The building is a vibrant shade of teal, fitting in well with the city's many colored buildings, and a row of headless fish hangs appetizingly from the roof.

We had read a New York Times article instructing us to try the relatively inexpensive lobster soup. And so we did! Well, Q did, but I tried a bit. The soup was pretty darn generous with the lobster meat, and it was ever so fresh. The soup was accompanied with crusty bread and an Icelandic butter called Smjor. That wouldn't be the last time I ate Smjor. Seriously, that stuff is awesome.

As for me, I perused the menu before deciding on my lunch. They don't have a printed menu, but rather a fridge with various raw fish kebobs that you choose and they cook up for you. Being fresh off a plane and ready to dive into all that Iceland had to offer, I chose the whale.

I had read that whale tasted a lot like beef tenderloin, and now I can confirm this. That's what I do. Confirm facts. The texture is EXACTLY like beef, but the flavor was like cow raised completely on fish. That sounds completely logical, but it was unexpected. Q thought it tasted a bit like liver, but I was stuck on the fish-fed cow image. It was good, but I don't know if I'll be eating whale again any time soon. We did some whale-watching later in our trip, and now I feel a little bit bad. Luckily, I have no soul.

The Land of Whales and Bjork

2007-05-02T22:34:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm off on vacation, so you won't see an update here for a bit. Expect lots of updates in a week about Icelandic food!

The Cookie Project (Laura)

2007-04-28T14:35:00.000-04:00

I have amazing friends. They are all brilliant, talented, and they don't mind my occasional breakdown. Most of all, they are all so unique. Life can be so busy and crazy that I don't think I show my appreciation nearly enough.

Have you ever thought about what different muppets or what different Golden Girl your friends are? Well, recently, I've been thinking about what different cookies my friends would be. Over the next few months, I will bake a different type of cookie representing each of my wonderful friends and give them out, as a way of saying "Thank You for Being a Friend." (Yet another Golden Girls reference!) Welcome to The Cookie Project.

Laura is one of my oldest friends. I've known her for about 11 years, which is a pretty darn long time for a youngin' like me. As I thought about what type of cookie best defines her, I knew it would have to be comforting and familiar yet unusual. She's very strong-willed, so I thought a substantial oatmeal base would be appropriate. When I was last at Trader Joe's, I picked up some sweetened dried hibiscus flowers, which look delicate, but have a subtle tart flavor. Perfect. I added some white chocolate chips to add a surprising sweetness. I found Laura's cookie.

I based the cookie on a Cooking Light recipe for White Chocolate, Strawberry, and Oatmeal cookies, made a few variations, and voila. Since the original recipe used less butter and sugar than traditional oatmeal cookies, they are surprising light. Again, perfect for my tiny friend. The next time I make these, I'll decrease the amount of white chocolate used to about 1/4 cup and possibly increase the salt by a bit. I think this cookie suits her, and I hope she does as well.

Laura's Hibiscus-Oatmeal cookies
3/4 c. all-purpose flour
1 c. old-fashioned oats
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. salt
3/4 c. brown sugar
1/4 c. butter
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 large egg
3/4 c. coarsely chopped dried hibiscus flowers
1/3 c. white chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Combine flour, oats, baking soda, and salt in a medium sized mixing bowl.
Cream sugar and butter in a stand mixer using medium speed. Add vanilla and the egg and beat well. Add half the flour mixture and beat until blended. Add the other half and again, beat until blended. Add the chopped flowers and chips, and either beat at a low speed or mix by hand.

Drop tablespoons of the dough onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake at 350 degrees for 12 minutes. Remove from oven, and cool the cookies on wire racks.

Yield 2 dozen.

Spring Taste of Chinatown 2007: The Zongzi Debacle

2007-04-28T12:59:00.000-04:00

Last weekend was the annual Spring Taste of Chinatown. Tasty morsels for $1-$2? You know I'm there. Apparently, half of New York had the same idea. The area was a tad more crowded than usual, perhaps because the weather was actually Springlike for the first time this year.

We decided to start our eating spree with zongzis, or sticky-rice tamales. We sidled on up to Nom Wah Tea Parlor and began to devour everything we could.

I remember eating their huge almond cookies last year, so this time I just stuck with savory goods. Lovingly unwrapping the tamale (is there any other way?), I took a bite. Mmmm pork. Mmmm peanuts. Mmmmm glutonous rice. Mmmm... wait. What the? I didn't realize the filling contained egg. Not just egg, but that hard-boiled cooked egg texture. Now, I'm not a picky eater by any means. There are only three foods that I actively dislike: mushrooms, bananas, and eggs, and I can even be persuaded to enjoy them in the right situation. However, I cannot stand hard-boiled eggs. I hate them with all the passion of a thousand drunken Mel Gibsons. They fool you into thinking their harmless, with their fluffy yellow yolk and their oft-decorated shells, but no. They are nasty.

There's a story that my father loves to tell all the friggin' time. When I was a wee Krys, I was served a big bowl of creamy whiteness at a restaurant. My face was lit up, and I eagerly dug my spoon in. My face instantly fell into an expression of disappointment and betrayal. The vanilla ice cream I had gleefully anticipated was in fact mashed potatoes. I was having major flashbacks with my egg-filled tamale. Sigh. Next time, I'll be sure to check the ingredients. To cleanse my palate, I decided to get some peking duck.

The line at the Peking Duck House was probably the longest at the event. We waited about 15 minutes to dig into our little chinese burritos filled generously with duck, cucumber, and whole scallions. Soooo good. I think that ordering the peking duck on a regular visit is a bit pricey, so the chance to get a taste for $2 is definitely worth it.

I wanted to eat more, but it was getting crowded, and I had errands to run. I can't wait until the Fall Taste of Chinatown event.

Bread Alone - Lemon-Scented Memories on a Rainy Day

2007-04-15T17:38:00.000-04:00

Welp, we are in the middle of a Nor-easter here in New York. In APRIL. Fortunately, there's no snow, but there is quite a bit of rain... so lots of PBS and hot cocoa for me! I appreciate sundays where I stay all day in my pajamas, but I'm kinda getting a little cabin fever. I'm also a little nervous that this rain is killing my new purchases from yesterday. Herbs!

I've never really had plants before, so I don't exactly have a green thumb, but I figured I'd try to keep rosemary, thyme, and cilantro alive in a little herb collection. If they die, then I'll know that I'm an unfit mother that can't have a puppy someday. If they live, then I'll have handy-dandy herbs at my culinary disposal! Only time shall tell. I hope they're okay. Water is supposed to be good for them, right? And they're under the overhang thingee in the back, so they're a bit sheltered.

The herbs (I haven't named them yet) were a bit of an impulse buy from the farmer's market at the Grand Army Plaza in Park Slope. There weren't too many veggies out yet, but the market was in full swing.

Two years ago, Q and I celebrated an anniversary up in the Catskills. While we were there, we fell in love with a local bakery called Bread Alone. They have delicious muffins and danishes, and their Woodstock location seemed to be incredibly popular among the locals. When we came back to NYC, we noticed that Bread Alone seemed to be at every freakin' greenmarket in the city! So naturally, I always find myself at their stand on saturdays, trying something new each time.

Behold my lemon and currant scone from Bread Alone! So tasty! So light and summery, which was perfect on a sunny, semi-warm Saturday. For my own sanity, I hope we have nice weather like that again soon. I'm really running out of things to annoy Q with.

Momofuku Ssam Bar and Il Laboratorio del Gelato (Neither Brooklyn nor Mexican Madness)

2007-04-14T19:58:00.000-04:00

When I was a wee Krys, I spent a lot of time in Arizona, visiting family. The one Phoenix restaurant that sticks in my head and in my heart was called Panda Bandito. I remember it being a hole-in-the wall joint, and it fused crappy Americanized Chinese food with crappy Americanized Mexican food. I've spent the rest of my life trying to recreate Orange Chicken Burritos.

Momofuku Ssam Bar is David Chang's follow-up to his wildly popular noodle bar. We all know that I love burritos and I love pork, so I really wanted to try the ssam, his korean wrap, but found that it's only available for lunch. Apparently the dinner menu is great, but I had my heart set on asian burritos. So, today's lunch was decided: Ssam I am.

There isn't really signage outside, but my sixth burrito sense led me inside. I didn't have to look at the menu to know that I what I wanted, so I marched up to the back counter and ordered The Original Momofuku Ssam. They have several build-your-own options, but the original is made of a flour pancake, rice, berkshire pork, onions, edamame, picked shiitake, and red kimchi puree. I think they also may have put a little hoisin on there, spread on as a base for the rice. I also watched the formation of the steamed buns, which I stupidly did not order. They looked damn good.

More pork! I really need to be stopped. I calculated that it's only April, and I've probably consumed two full pigs so far. I keep trying to justify that fact in my head, but I should probably just accept my addiction. Anyhoo, this pork was so delicious and tender and porky. The edamame added a great crunch, and the kimchi and pickled shiitake added a nice salty vinegary flavor. I HATE mushrooms, but I dug the pickled shiitake. I probably wouldn't eat it on its own, but in the ssam, it was perfect.

I needed to walk the pork off, so I headed down to the lower east side to eye the new Whole Foods. While I was in the area, and it being a sunny day, I decided that I needed more fat in my body and headed over to Il Laboratorio del Gelato. Unfortunately, they didn't have their more unusual flavors available (I was craving olive oil gelato), so I got a small with a scoop of maple-walnut and a scoop of espresso.

Mmmm, those flavors went well together. So refreshing after the pork. This is why it's dangerous for me to go to Manhattan on the weekends.

Bonita II – Brooklyn Mexican Madness (Part Two)

2007-04-13T22:11:00.000-04:00

This last week I had some celebratory news. What does that mean, folks? Mexican food, of course! Q and I wandered into Fort Greene to try the southern outpost of Williamsburg fav, Bonita, cleverly named Bonita II.

Q accurately described the feel of the restaurant as a “hipster soda fountain that serves nachos.” The tile-covered walls combined with the 50s soda shoppe soundtrack definitely gave us the feel of an upscale Johnny Rockets. I had my heart set on the carnitas tacos (again, I apparently can’t eat enough pork!), but I changed my mind when the waiter told us about the special mole that night, made with chocolate, of course, and pasilla chilies. Yum! I ordered the chicken enchiladas smothered in mole, and we also got a side of sweet plaintains as an appetizer. You have to pay for chips and salsa, but at least the salsa seemed fresh albeit mild.

Mmmm. The mole was good. I mean really good. It was creamy and had a wonderful sweet/bitter/savory/spicy coffee flavor that went perfectly with the corn tortillas and fresh avocado. The chicken itself seemed to be roasted white meat, and it could have been a little more spiced, but still, the enchiladas were damn tasty. Q ordered the carnitas tacos, and the pork was just seasoned enough, but I think I liked my mole more.

My ears perked up at the Spanish versions of Rolling Stones songs, and my tongue perked up at my Picante Margarita made with Habanero-infused tequila. While it wasn’t as pretty as some margaritas I’ve had in the past, it made up for its looks with flavor.

While I don’t know that it would be my signature drink, I enjoyed it more than their house margarita. The pepper adds a nice little burn at the back of your throat offset by the sweetness of the grapefruit juice and the saltiness of the, well, salt. Apparently the Williamsburg location doesn’t offer hard liquor due to its proximity to a church, but the Ft. Greene location has an extensive offering of tequila, including an intriguing “dessert tequila.”

I’ve heard complaints about the service at the Williamsburg outpost, but our waiter here was super-attentive. By the time our check came (along with Chiclets), we were sold. This ranks high so far in our Brooklyn Mexican Mission.

Taco Chulo - Brooklyn Mexican Madness (Part One)

2007-04-12T22:46:00.000-04:00

You know how you have one particular song that plays in your head when something happens? In high school, Peter Gabriel's In Your Eyes always played when my crush made eye contact. It was always reeeeeally awkward when I started singing out loud. It seems like whenever anything celebratory happens, Tequila by The Champs blares in my head. If I have amazing willpower that day, I can stop myself from doing the Pee-Wee dance. That brings me to my point. Is there a more festive cuisine than Mexican food? Luckily, April has been a month for celebration, and that means margaritas-a-plenty.

My friend Joy was born in the beginning of April, and if that's not an occasion for margaritas, I don't know what is. A bunch of us gathered in her hood to convene at Williamsburg's Taco Chulo.

I was the last to arrive because I'm ever so fashionable. And I had to file lots of stuff at work. I have such a glamourous life. The gang was already polishing off a pitcher of Sangria, so I ordered a Tamarind margarita and took a look at the menu.

The margarita was preeeety. It tasted nice and tamarindy. A little watery, but it did the job. The sangria tasted, as my friend Tood said, like Trader Joe's Two Buck Chuck mixed with orangeade. Ah well, my attention was turned towards the food. Taco Chulo has quite the extensive Tex-Mex menu, complete with a Velveeta and Rotel salsa con queso appetizer. Authenticity isn't it's M.O. I ordered a carnitas taco and a "Huachinango" fish taco.

I was pleased that they doubled up on the corn tortillas, and you certainly get a lot of food for your money. The fish was "eh." The fish kinda tasted frozen, but the carnitas taco was quite tasty. It wasn't the best, but it definitely sated my hunger. I love me some braised pork. Overall, it was an okay experience, and it was definitely a nice space for a larger group. I don't think I would go back of my own free will. While velveeta and rotel isn't something I want to pay money for, I'm sure it could be a big hit with those hip kids that dig irony.

When I lived in Jersey City, I was lucky enough to live by Taqueria, home of amazing fish tacos and tamales. It is now my mission to find a great Mexican place close to my current home. Any ideas?

Currantly Full of Pork

2007-04-08T23:06:00.000-04:00

I probably haven't mentioned this here, but we have finally decided to take a vacation. It's going to be our first vacation in about two years and my first overseas vacation in about 8-9 years. Q and I are off to Iceland in May, and our preliminary research tells us that boy oh boy is it ever going to be expensive! For this reason, I'm trying to use up some of the strange ingredients lurking in my pantry.

I was flipping through the April issue of Cooking Light, which is one of the two magazines I subscribe to. The other one is a freebie through my credit card. Hoo doggy do I love magazines! Sorry, had to get that out. Anyhoo, one recipe jumped out at me: Pan-Seared Pork Chops with Red Currant Sauce.

Shallots: check
Red Currant Jelly: check
random spices like coriander and thyme: check

All I needed was some pork chops (they specify bone-in, but I just used regular boneless chops from my butcher) and some beef broth (I used some stock from my corner bodega). After a little shallot and garlic-chopping and twenty minutes, I had tastiness!!!

The sauce was sweet and tart, which is a combination I adore although I despise the candy that shares the same description. I definitely used more than a teaspoon of coriander to season the pork. I probably used about a tablespoon, but it gave the chops a beautiful crust. I've only recently discovered the wonderful secret of cornstarch, which instantly thickens a sauce to make a super-quick meal. I will definitely be making this again, and fortunately, I'll have most of the ingredients on hand.

Dreaming of Warmer Weather...

2007-04-08T22:35:00.000-04:00

Q's birthday present to himself:

Now it just needs to stop snowing in April. What the hell.

67 Burger

2007-04-08T22:31:00.000-04:00

On a beautiful March Sunday afternoon, Q and I peeled ourselves off the couch, met a couple of friends, and headed on over to BAM to see the ballet production of Edward Scissorhands. DANCING TOPIARIES!!! We paid for nosebleeds, but mysteriously got ushered to closer seats. We certainly weren't going to complain. It's one of my favorite movies, and it was wonderful in dance form. Afterwards, we wanted a yummy late lunch, but we still wanted a fairly casual eating experience. The Smoke Joint was a bit too busy, so we headed across the street to 67 Burger in Ft. Greene.

Even though it is obviously a burger joint, they had a few other menu options, such as salads and sandwiches. The space is appropriately fast foody. After placing your order at the counter, they give you a metal number sign, which you then take to your chosen seat. This is presumably so they can bring your correct order, although that didn't prevent a mix-up when we were there. They were super-nice about it though. They have a few beers on tap (Blue Moon and Kelso were the standouts), but more importantly they had RC cola. Mmmm. I'm not a big soda drinker, but I can't resist the syrupy goodness of RC. Also, they had curly fries on the menu which is a huge plus for me.

The burgers are cooked to order, which was a nice surprise. My medium-rare burger was actually the right shade of pink. Hooray! I ordered a cheeseburger with cheddar cheese and a side of curly fries. The burger was very good, and the curly fries were excellent.

My only qualm with the place is the price. I think my total meal (burger, fries, and soda) was a little less than twenty dollars, which in hindsight doesn't seem that bad, but it was definitely more than I wanted to spend at the time. If the place were a little less expensive, I'd definitely be back. When the weather warms up, I'll definitely stop in for a milkshake (with a little lactaid to help). And maybe an order of curly fries. Possibly a burger. I had better start saving up now.

Sugar High Friday #29!

2007-03-26T21:20:00.000-04:00

One of the problems with having a food blog is that it can get a little monotonous to the reader. It runs into the danger of just documenting my meals, which while FASCINATING to me, can be a wee bit dull to you. So, to break things up a bit. I decided to participate in a few blogging events, starting with the famous Sugar High Friday event, the brainchild of the lovely Domestic Goddess.

This month's SHF is hosted by Emily at Chocolate in Context, and the theme is Raw Chocolate. Now, I certainly enjoy my chocolate, but I really, really enjoy it when it's paired with another flavor, like fruit or cookie dough. However, nothing, NOTHING gets my purr-organ purring (wow, that didn't come out as PG as I was hoping) like the combination of chocolate and peanut butter.

Armed with my cacao nibs, I grabbed some roasted peanuts from my cabinet and set out to make some PeanutNib Brittle. (Aren't you glad I'm not in Marketing?) While the idea made sense in theory, I've never made brittle before, so I used Gale Gand's recipe for Cinnamon Peanut Brittle as a starting point. With minor modifications, PeanutNib Brittle was born!

I'm not a connesieur of peanut brittle by any means, but I thought this was pretty darn tasty! The cinnamon and cocao nibs add a spicy, coffee flavor to the sweet brittle. It's definitely a grown-up candy, and it definitely satisfies my peanut/chocolate need.

PeanutNib Brittle

1/2 c. water
2 c. sugar
1 c. light corn syrup
2 tsp. ground cinnamon
2 tbsp. unsalted butter
1 1/2 c. roasted salted peanuts
1/2 c. cacao nibs
1 tsp. baking soda

First off, grease the heck out of a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper with butter.

Next, combine the first three ingredients in a medium saucepan with a candy thermometer attached. Bring the mixture to a boil over medium heat, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon. Boil the mixture until it reaches 300 degrees F(about 10 minutes). The color will be a deep golden brown. Remove from heat, and add the next five ingredients, working quickly.

Pour the mixture onto the greased cookie sheet and spread it out with the back of your wooden spoon. It probably won't fill the whole pan, but just try to spread out the mixture to an even thickness. Let it harden uncovered 30 to 45 min.

Using your hands, break the brittle into pieces. Store in an airtight container.

Eat a piece. Enjoy.

Bento Like Beckham

2007-03-24T00:01:00.000-04:00

When I get home from work, I usually have no qualms about chopping and cooking a delicious meal, even after a particularly long and stressful day. I love decompressing after a long day doing my cubicle thang by slicing garlic, chopping onions, and zoning out while Access Hollywood tells me everything I ever wanted to know about Anna Nicole Smith’s corpse.

However, the morning is a whole ‘nother story. I can grind my coffee beans and pour my soy milk into my cereal, but that’s it. I think that’s a lot! I’m proud of my ability to press the button on the coffeemaker in the morning.

That brings me to my main point. No matter how early I wake up, no matter how much coffee I drink, I can’t bring myself to pack a decent lunch. I usually slap a few slices of turkey on some bread, grab a piece of fruit, and run out the door. I even have a few Lean Cuisines on hand for mornings where I don’t feel like making a sandwich.

Why, when I have such a love for cooking, am I totally stuck when it comes to making myself a lunch?!? I work in an area where there aren’t too many affordable food options, so I try to bring along something, but it’s never anything I can get excited about. SOLUTION!!! I recently became mildly obsessed with the bento box. Now, I’ve always known about bento boxes, but I had no idea how innovative and creative they can be!

I’m especially wowed by Junko Terashima’s creations. She definitely brings lunch to a higher plane. If you don’t feel like searching through archives, a lovely selection is on an English language blog here: JustinSpace
(both links via Boing Boing)

I’m definitely ordering myself a bento box (possibly from Laptop Lunches) in hopes that I find some sort of lunch inspiration. I’m not sure that I will be adopting a rice-based lunch diet, but maybe I’ll be more innovative in my presentation. My turkey sandwich could use some googly-eyes.

Applewood: Eating Good in the Neighborhood

2007-03-21T21:20:00.000-04:00

I love a deal. I like Kim Deal. Hell, I can even stand Deal or No Deal. That’s why I love Restaurant Weeks, in all their various incarnations. Dine In Brooklyn is no exception, and it’s a fantastic excuse to eat out even more than I already do.

Checking out the participants this year, Q and I knew that we both wanted to try Applewood. Being that Q’s birthday fell in the Brooklyn restaurant week this year, we decided that the fates were telling us that we needed to celebrate with an inexpensive good meal.

Applewood offered a lovely three-course prix fixe selection for only $21.12 (the prix fixe price for all the Dine In Brooklyn participants. Something to do with our zip code). We were seated towards the back of the small restaurant, where I had a lovely view of the kitchen, but I was also in a high traffic area right by the owners. Therefore, I felt too sheepish about taking photos of any of our meal. Le sigh. I’ll just have to wow you with my descriptions.

Are you ready to be wowed? No? Too bad.

Appetizer: seasonal soup (rutabaga) - I’ve never had rutabaga before, so I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect. I think I decided before I tasted it that it would taste like parsnips and it did, kinda. But different. I’m no help here. I’ll definitely be trying more rutabaga in my cooking though. Plus, it’s really fun to say! RUTABAGA! The soup was finished with a swirl of balsamic vinegar, which was delicious, but then again, I love balsamic on anything. The soup also had a sprinkling of rock salt which you aren’t aware of until you crunch into a piece and it explodes in your mouth. It added a fun surprise to the soup.

As a side note, here’s a really neat thing I found relating to rutabaga: The International Rutabaga Curling Championship held in Ithica, NY. I wanna go!!!

Entrée: pan roasted duck breast (with white bean stew, bacon lardons, cippolinis, and garlic confit) - Q and I are both a little disappointed that this dish is not on their regular menu because we both enjoyed it the most out of our entrees. First off, the duck was perfectly cooked, so it was buttery like a rare steak. Mmmm. The white bean stew had tomatoes which surprised me, but added a nice acidity. I didn’t notice the lardons; I assume because the flavor went so well with the dish. Either that or they left them out. I’m not sure. The cippolini onions were a bit flatter than pearl onions, but otherwise they were about the same size. It was nice to taste an ingredient that I rarely get to try, but I don’t think my palate is sophisticated enough to differentiate them from roasted pearl onions. C’est la vie. The garlic confit was basically preserved garlic; it tasted like roasted garlic, but the flavor was much milder. Everything on the plate was soft and tender, and the textures went together as much as the flavors did.

Dessert: meyer lemon curd (with brown butter madeleines) - I think dessert was the best part of the evening. I would eat this every day if I could. It was ever so rich and delicious. The curd was more white than yellow, which made me wonder if there were as many egg yolks as are usually found in curd. It was more of a pudding consistency. Maybe cornstarch was added as a thickening agent? I’m not sure. Either way it was creamy and amazing. The madeleines were perfect as well.

The money we saved on dinner went to a splurge on a nice bottle of Bordeaux. It was a special occasion, after all! The portion sizes were quite generous, and I was a stuffed Krys afterwards. Oh, but what a good life to be stuffed with duck and curd.

Blind Tiger, Revisited

2007-03-21T08:42:00.000-04:00

I am a woman of my word. I said I would go back to Blind Tiger Ale House to try the food, and by gum, I did! The kitchen is fairly sizeable for a bar kitchen, and the menu offers simple, no-frills bar food, like grilled cheese sammiches and chili. I opted to try one of their sliders, because I love me a mini-sandwich.

As you can see from the photo, their Tiger-style pulled chicken slider was actually quite sizeable. My picture doesn’t do it justice. I was expecting an average snack, because heck, it’s a bar! I was pleasantly surprised at the first vinegary bite, followed by buffalo hot sauce hitting the back of my throat. The shredded carrots on top added a nice crunch. Q opted for a grilled cheese sandwich with white cheddar, which was serviceable, but his attention was focused elsewhere.

As we expected, the beer is the true star at Blind Tiger, as it should be! However, the food is a perfect accompaniment. Now every time I drink a Southamptom Imperial Porter, I’ll crave the tangy hot sauce from their Tiger-style pulled chicken.

If paying for food ain’t yo thang, keep in mind that they are having a free cheese tasting every Wednesday with cheese provided by Murray’s cheese shop, conveniently located across the street. FREE CHEESE!!!

Smoke Joint

2007-03-20T08:36:00.000-04:00

So I received an instant message at work a while back.
Q: Smoke Joint with Fred and Amanda?

I then had to spend the next thirty minutes explaining to my boss that Smoke Joint was the unfortunately non-work-friendly name of a restaurant and not an invitation for illicit activities. When I first went, I wasn’t particularly wowed, but I thought that I just didn’t order the right thing. Their Brooklyn Wings were tasty, but not mindblowingly great bbq.

So, a return visit was in order. The atmosphere is supercozy, even in the freezing weather we had this last weekend, and the service is really friendly. Smoke Joint also scores major points with me for serving one of my favorite beverages, Mother’s Milk, a delightful milk strout from Keegan Ales. This time around, I ordered the hacked and stacked pork sandwich, with a side of macaroni and cheese.

Now, anyone who knows me well knows that I adore mac & cheese. Even a potentially traumatizing incident involving vomit and kraft didn’t deter my love. So of course, I enjoyed their generous side portion of the creamy, orange creation. It wasn’t the best mac and cheese I’ve ever had, but I certainly enjoyed it.

At first I was a little weary of the cornmeal-encrusted roll that the pork rested upon. I’m used to my pulled pork sandwiches served on wonderbread buns, but this roll was delightful—especially when it got a bit soggy at the end. Starchy goodness. The pork itself was a little dry, but a little of Smoke Joint’s tangy sauce helped provide a temporary solution.

All in all, the meal was nice, but a huge part of that was just how comfortable I felt in the space. I also really enjoy that it’s fairly close to my apartment. I love having a BBQ place a stone’s throw away, but I just don’t think I’ve ordered the right things. I hear their beef short ribs are where it’s at. I guess I’ll have to keep on trying.

Polygamy Porter: Bring Some Home to All the Wives

2007-03-20T08:28:00.000-04:00

This blog has taken a rather beercentric turn recently, but I suppose that’s fitting because it’s a special week for Q (beer geek extraordinaire). That’s right, Q turns another year older today! But enough about Q’s day of birth. Instead, let’s talk about the many gifts that he brings into my life. Love. Companionship. Beer glasses.

Q went to Utah for business earlier this year, and in between meetings and schmoozing, was able to pick me up a little souvenir.

Wasatch Brewpub is based in Park City, Utah and is the first brewery in Utah in over 20 years. Their marketing is simply genius.

The glass is one of my cherished possessions. I just wish I had more than one (insert rim shot here).

Blind Tiger Has Risen

2007-03-17T19:37:00.000-04:00

Blind Tiger Ale House was always one of my favorite beer bars. There was no better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than free bagels and a tasty brew off of their extensive draught list. However, very little in Manhattan seems to stay the same, and Blind Tiger soon found itself with an expired lease, being replaced by yet another Starbucks.

Luckily, they found a new space right around the corner (on Bleecker across from John's Pizzeria), but their troubles were far from over. Despite their pedigree as a fine beer bar, the State Liquor Authority denied their liquor license in their new location. Blind Tiger decided to turn lemons into coffee, and opened anyway as a coffee shop and eatery while they awaited the ok from SLA. A long, LONG struggle ensued, and last week, lo and behold, they finally got their license!

Blind Tiger opened its doors at 4pm last Thursday, but being a working girl, I was only able to show up at about 6pm. I knew it would be busy, but I had little idea just how packed it would be. I edged my way in, thanking the heavens for making me so small and compact, and ordered a Lagunitas Hairy Eyeball. Q joined me, as did one of other friends, and they had a celebratory drink as well. The beer was delicious, the wooden beams were beautiful, and Q almost got into fisticuffs with a gentleman who had too many. All was right with the world.

I had wanted to sample the food, but it was really way too crowded. We enjoyed our drinks and squeezed ourselves out of the bar. I'm a little disappointed that I didn't get to experience more that they had to offer, but at least I have the reassuring knowledge that I'll be back.

Happy Pi Day!!!

2007-03-14T20:18:00.000-04:00

Ah,Pi Day-- a day that satisfies both the math nerd and the baking nerd inside. What kind of pie to bake to celebrate this irrational number? Only the most irrational of fruits would do. Rhubarb! (It’s an irrational fruit because it’s actually a vegetable. Ha-ha! Fooled you! I am hilarious. All of this was a Shakespearean aside, by the way.) I pulled out my Baking Illustrated tome and got to work on a rhubarb-strawberry pie. Now, I have made this pie with great success before, and this time, the crust seemed even easier to create. This is really the best pie crust recipe ever. So flaky. So buttery. So good. And I used a bit of the trans-fat-free Crisco, and didn’t notice any difference. Hurray for slightly-more-healthy-yet-still-terrible-for-you baked goods! The entire pie took less than two hours to bake, from start to finish.

This recipe makes a damn tasty pie! Now if only I could master the technique of making it attractive. See, I kind of fluted my pie edges, but I was under the impression that it was mostly for decorative purposes. I didn’t realize it was supposed to seal the top and bottom crusts together so the tasty filling wouldn’t bubble out everywhere. Whoops. Needless to say, I’m glad I baked the pie on a cookie sheet.

But look at the filling!

Hmmm. It may be time to invest in a proper pie pan rather than disposable tins from PathMark. Nah.

I always thought that rhubarb was more of a spring/summer crop because that’s when I’d always see it at the farmer’s market, but then I learned about “forced rhubarb,” or greenhouse-grown rhubarb, which is now showing up in supermarkets (sure, it feels like spring here in New York, but it’s still kinda wintery). It’s a pinker and more tender version of the veggie, but it’s just as delicious. The flavor is supposed to be milder, but it still tasted plenty tart to me, which melded quite well with the sweetness of the quartered strawberries.

Pie plus math equals awesome.

Ode to Brunch

2007-03-12T20:23:00.000-04:00

We awoke one morning, and thought of brunch
We needed tastiness on which to munch

"Didn't I hear about a place in Brooklyn North?
Quick! To Greenpoint! We shall go forth!"

After a quick jaunt on the G subway
We reached our destination. Hurray!

The joint was jumping at Brooklyn Label
We sat at the bar; there was no free table

I was so happy for I could see the kitchen
And the coffee was hot and fresh. Bitchin'!

Q decided upon the Chili Colorado
But we were in Brooklyn! Not Colorado!

Peppers and pork topped with poached eggs
Tasted so good, Q couldn't feel his legs

Luckily we were seated, about to eat
Limbs were not needed nor were our feet

What did I order? The poet that I am?
Of course, I ordered Green Eggs.. no ham.

Soft eggs, pesto, and spinach so fine
Such sweet richness was mine, all mine!

So if you find yourself in Greenpoint and have the time
Eat tasty brunch, and prepare to rhyme.

DiFara's Pizzeria

2007-03-09T08:53:00.000-05:00

“I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end.”- Margaret Thatcher

I was always told from a young age that patience is a virtue. In New York, it can be a necessity. New Yorkers seem to be willing to get in a ridiculously long line for anything, not matter how overhyped (see Shake Shack, but they also know that to taste something ethereal, sometime waiting is a small price (see the reservation wait for Babbo.)

There was a freakishly gorgeous and warm day mid-February, so Q and I decided to walk over to Midwood for a taste of the best pizza we’ve ever had. The last time we were at DiFara’s, three of us strolled in, waited a half hour to get a pie, and finished the glorious creation in five minutes. We knew this was an anomaly, and we were prepared to wait much longer this time. We weren’t prepared for how so many of the other patrons lacked our patience.

Okay, if you see a crowd of twenty or so people, your safe bet is to assume that they are waiting. Your first inclination should not be to stroll past them and place an order. Everyone should be equal in pizzawaitingtime, and you are not special just because you look just like Parker Posey’s character in Best in Show. Grrrr. When you wait together, there is an unspoken bond—a shared anticipation. I hate when people don’t respect that bond.

Sorry. Where was I? Oh yeah, after dealing with the rudeness for about an hour, Q and I finally had our very own pie to call our own. And it was good, so good that we couldn’t wait to dig in, hence the incomplete-pie photo.

We got our pie with pepperoni and fresh garlic. Just look at that pepperoni! And the beautiful orange fusion created by the olive oil, two types of mozzarella, and pepperoni melding together. Enough has been written of Dom's methodical genius, so I’m just going to let the pictures do the talking.

Patience pays.

Unidentified Flying Chickens

2007-02-13T19:17:00.000-05:00

After reading an article in NYT about Korean fried chicken, Q became a man obsessed. I'm always up for a food adventure, so we trekked out to Jackson Heights (the Village of Commerce). Tucked away on Roosevelt Ave, is a little portal into THE FUTURE!

Okay, maybe not, but UFC, which stands for Unidentified Flying Chickens, is very mod and futuristic in décor. This is perhaps a bit misleading because with such technological advances, the food must by prepared by a quick death-ray blast, right? Not exactly. The chicken is cooked to order, and the method is slower than American deep-frying, so the wait for our order was about a half-hour for our soy-garlic wings and drumsticks. If you don't like to wait, then this isn't the place for you. On the other hand, if you're not a crybaby, and you don't mind waiting for tasty, quality food that isn't pre-cooked or waiting under heat lamps, then check it out!

We ordered a small size, which was just perfect for two people (although next time, I'll probably get a large). The skin was paper-thin and crispy with a delicious salty/sweet glaze. The chicken comes with an order of pickled radishes, and I cannot stress enough how friggin awesome that combination is. So, so good. We also ordered some hand-cut fries, but in all the hustle and bustle that comes after a Times review, they got lost. The staff was super-apologetic and even offered us some more chicken, which in retrospect we should have taken, but the fries eventually came. I'll just stick to the bird and the radishes next time. The place seemed to be pretty busy, but I hope that people learn to exercise a little patience and give the place a shot while they work out some kinks. If UFC gets a liquor license and pairs their wings with beer, I just may have to move to Queens.

Village of Commerce

2007-02-13T19:10:00.000-05:00

I ventured out to Jackson Heights in Queens on Saturday, a land where suburban retail stores meet faux-tudor archictecture, creating a Village of Commerce--a magical land where one can find anything. Like this action figure from a KB Toy Store:

What's truly great about this figure is not just that the character's name is "The Meat," but that, like all of the other Rocky action figures, it has the name of the bout. Rocky vs. The Meat.

That's how I feel every day. I'm always vs. The Meat.

We popped into Patel Brothers, an Indian Grocery, to see if there were any spices I needed to add to my collection. I was tempted by this "authentic Indian dish."

Oh doughboy. Cuddly in any culture.

HOLY MOLE!

2007-02-12T21:34:00.000-05:00

Rick Bayless is one of the creepiest men on PBS, and that's saying a lot. His eyes bore into your soul, as he delivers his cooking tidbits with such a knowing smile that you're positive "tortilla" must be an innuendo. The man knows his Mexican food though. I have yet to buy one of his cookbooks, and, as I previously mentioned, I can't watch his show without showering repeatedly, so I was excited when I found one of his recipes through the safety of the internet. Nothing pervy ever happens in cyberspace.

I was searching for pumpkin something, because pumpkin is one of my all-time comfort foods, and I was yearning for some squashy goodness. Spicy grilled chicken with pumpkin mole sauce caught my eye, and I wasn't going to let to cold weather or my lack of a grill stop me from mole pleasure.

The actual chicken is pretty tasty on it's own, thanks to a chipotle glaze, but the mole is the true star of the dish. The pumpkin flavor is subtle, more an afternote than anything, but the peppers make it flavorful and warm.

Be forewarned, this makes a ton of mole. Delicious, spicy, creamy mole. I used the leftovers as a condiment on turkey burgers the next night, and dipped some sweet potato fries in it. However, this dish had the unfortunate side effect of making me a total creep. I kept moaning the entire night about my creamy mole. Maybe this isn't the dish to make for company.

2007-02-12T21:17:00.000-05:00

I am a big fan of cookbooks that not only deliver tasty recipes, but also teach me about the construction of certain dishes, so that I can understand how to modify or expand upon the recipes if necessary. Learning about how certain dishes are created helps me to improvise in the kitchen—something I love doing, but something which usually yields frightening results. Marcus Samuelsson's ode to African cooking, delivers on all accounts. I received this book as a gift from Q's parents, and I tried out the Curried Trout with Coconut-Chili sauce last month. The trout was super-duper easy, so I was looking forward to a bit more of a challenge with my next dish.

No challenge here, but I certainly did learn a lot about a cuisine that I'm not all that familiar with. Whenever I go out for Ethiopian food with my friends, we never have any idea of what we're eating, but it sure is good! I decided to try cooking an Ethiopian-inspired stir-fried beef stew from Samuelsson's book. He refers to it as Tibs Wett, but Meskerem in Manhattan calls it Tibs Wat on their menu, so I'm not sure what the actual spelling is. The beef (I used a lovely piece of hanger steak from my local butcher) is stir-fried with tomatoes, jalapenos, and a berbere spice blend in a spiced clarified butter known as niter kibbeh. I was interested in why the butter needed to be clarified before it was infused with the spices, and Cooking for Engineers has a lovely explanation.

The butter was insanely rich, and even though only ¼ cup was called for (it serves 6-8), I would still probably cut it down. It did add a fantastic flavor... just a flavor that went straight to my ass. Because the stew was stir-fried, the tomatoes and jalapenos don't get that stewey consistency, and instead retain their fresh crispness, which provides a nice counterbalance to the spiciness of the berbere. If you make the spiced butter and berbere mix ahead of time (I didn't), this dish comes together in minutes. It probably took me around a half hour. Not too shabby!

This dish, like a lot of Ethiopian food, is traditionally served with injera, the sourdoughy, spongy flatbread. Since I wasn't feeling ambitious enough to tackle this at the time, I just served the stew with some mashed sweet potatoes. However, Samuelsson does have a rather idiot-proof recipe in his book, so I definitely will try my hand at injera in the coming weeks.

Skip to My Lucali, My Darling

2007-02-08T15:16:00.001-05:00

So right now I’m listening to a Bon Appetit podcast about the rise of artisinal pizzas (I know, I know, I’m the biggest dork ever), and they’re mostly concentrating on the recent surge of spiffy pizzas in California. Listening to people talk about pizza at 11:00 in the morning isn’t the best of ideas when you need to concentrate on work, but what can I say? I’m a rebel.

All this talk of pizza made me reminisce on my meal last Friday at Lucali’s (no website, but here’s a nice article listing location). Friday, if you weren’t in lovely New York, was fah-reezing and rainy, so that may explain why the place wasn’t terribly crowded. Q and I squeezed into a tight space (the space is small, so they have the seating jam-packed in there), and looked over at the chalkboard detailing the extensive menu. Pizza or a calzone. We opted for the pizza with pepperoni and fresh garlic. Looking over at other pies made me wish that we ordered fresh basil, but pepperoni and garlic is our staple.

The space is really cute. The “kitchen” is an open space in the back, where you could watch as the owner assembled each pie and shoved it in his wood-fired oven, which he apparently bought from a defunct pizzeria. The relaxed pace and open space (I RHYME!) gave the warm vibe of a home kitchen.

Now, a ton of comparisons have been made between here and DiFara’s, and yes, there are similarities. The crust is super-thin, and after a coating of sauce and imported mozzarella, the pie is finished with a turn of olive oil and grated grana padano, just like DiFara’s. However, the flavor of the crust just isn’t the same, and the mozzarella just seemed ok. The grated cheese on top does add a great flavor that I won’t tire of any time soon. Lucali’s pizza was good. It was very good. It definitely filled a void in Carroll Gardens, and I think residents appreciate that. I don’t think it’s go-out-of-your-way good like DiFara’s, though. I loved the atmosphere, but for a South Brooklyn pie, I’ll stick to Franny’s.

As a sidenote, it’s terrifying to eat pizza with Q.

Big Pig in the City

2007-02-07T15:48:00.000-05:00

So, last Saturday, our friend Amanda alerted us to a free pig roast at a local bar. Free? Pork? I’m there. The Cherry Tree is a local bar located on the outer edges of Park Slope. It seemed harmless enough from the outside, and when we strolled in at 9:30 it was downright comfy. They had a nice beer selection including taps from SixPoint and Red Hook, and a great backyard, full of little caverns to sit and commiserate in.

Then it happened. The repetitive beat of the music stopped the beat of my heart. Justin Timberlake was bringing sexy back, and my hips began to spasm out of fear. Apparently this had the same effect on the rest of the clientele. I haven’t seen that much dry-humping since my 6th grade Spring Social. My friends and I made a quick escape to the back of the bar and were greeted by the smell of roasting pork.

Even though I had already eaten, I can always clear some room for free pork. After carving up the little fella, the chef seasoned the meat lightly with a little salt and maybe something else... cayenne, perhaps? I dunno. It could have used a little sauce, but hey, it was free! And it went so well with some SixPoint Sweet Action. After having our fill, we made our epic journey past the bumping and grinding teenagers, and were deposited out on chilly 4th avenue. Our faces were cold, but our bellies were warm.

That’ll do, Pig.

R.U.B. a Dub Dub

2006-03-21T15:01:00.000-05:00

Stupid deadlines at work preventing me from updating my precious food blog! Luckily, all the stress made my body finally give out, and now I'm home sick, bored out of my mind. I'm too sick to even cook anything, although I'm thinking I may have the strength to bake some pumpkin bread later. Mmmmm. Pumpkin bread.

Anyhoo, I'll take this snot-filled opportunity to catch up on my recent culinary adventures. Two weekends ago (I know, I know. I said I've been crazy-busy at work), I had to run up to Chelsea to run a few work-related errands. Now, before you scream that I do too much for work, this was actually to do something nice for a coworker, so it wasn't TECHNICALLY work. Just work-related. Q and I picked up the Best Of issue of New York Magazine in hopes of finding a tasty morsel for lunch. Q is a good ol' midwestern boy, and I just plain like to eat, so barbeque was a lovely compromise. The magazine mentioned that R.U.B. was a decent place, and it happened to be right by my errand. Oh, how the stars align!

R.U.B. BBQ (standing for Righteous Urban Barbeque) had a really chill vibe inside. It was pretty empty, so we had pretty much the whole back section to ourselves. They had a mix of the Beatles and the White Stripes (dated enough not to be pretentious and hipstery) blaring. We weren't prepared to tackle the massive "Down Home Pig Pick'n," the $90 feast, so we just stuck with sammiches. What a sammich it was.

I had the pulled pork sandwich. The picture is a bit deceptive as it tends to focus on the Wonderbread-type bun, but the innards were soooo good. The pork wasn't drowning in sauce like most pulled meat sandwiches, but it was incredibly flavorful and tender. Mmmm. Just thinking about it almost makes me feel better. Nope. Still sick.

We got a side of Hushpuppies, because I'm a sucker for anything called a puppy. My prior experience with hushpuppies are the flavorless ones that you get from Long John Silver. These were far better. They sorta tasted like the cornmeal exterior of a tamale. Yum. I don't know why they came with packets of butter though. I mean, I'm not a hushpuppy connoisseur in the least, but they seem more apropos with ketchup. Maybe you eat them with butter like cornbread? Does anyone out there have hushpuppy experience? I'm in the dark with this one.

So that was my R.U.B. experience. It was relatively inexpensive. I'd say pricewise it's comparable to the ubiquitous BBQ chain of restaurants in NYC (one is actually right across the street), and it's lightyears better. The only thing that was lacking was the beer selection, but they had Blue Point, so that's not too bad. Plus, when you're giving yourself a coronary with yummy bbq, water is a nice way to wash it down.

An Grill.

2006-03-21T14:57:00.000-05:00

Oh, Chipotle. Just because you have delicious corn salsa at insane prices, you think you can get away with grammatical errors?

So, This Guy Walks into a Lemon Bar... OW!

2006-03-04T08:18:00.000-05:00

There are some things that are good to know for your health but are emotionally traumatic to know. Like how many people your significant other has slept with. Or if your parents ever did heavy drugs when you were in utero. Or how many egg yolks go into lemon bars.

For my birthday, I had the uncontrollable urge to buy myself silly kitchen gadgets. After my shopping carnage, I was the proud owner of a zester and the Baking Illustrated tome by, you guessed, the peeps at America’s Test Kitchen and Cook’s Illustrated. I’m obsessed.

I decided to make something citrusy in hopes that it would be at least somewhat healthier than the chocolate kick I've been on recently. I had my taste for lemon temporarily satisfied by the tart at Hearth, but I wanted more.

The recipe itself is incredibly easy. The trinity of sugar, flour, and butter make the crust, which you then bake for about 15 minutes. Then using way too many egg yolks to admit in public, some lemon zest, lemon juice, sugar, and salt, you create the yummy, freakishly yellow custard topping. Bake all together and voila!

However, knowing just how many egg yolks went into this makes me a little guilty every time I take a nibble. Maybe ignorance is bliss when it comes to baked goods.

A Brisket, A Tasket or The Frying of Latke 49

2006-03-02T21:36:00.000-05:00

After a week of eating out, I was aching to get back in the kitchen. I asked Q what he wanted for dinner, and he immediately suggested, nay, demanded that I make the Two-potato Latkes from the November issue of Cooking Light. A couple of whirs of my trusty food processor, and I had shredded my russets and sweet potatoes to create the starchy building blocks I needed. However, when it came to forming the cakes, I had a bit of trouble.

You see, the shredded potatoes should be rid of their juices. Oh my, do potatoes have a lot of liquid! I did the best I could considering I didn’t have cheesecloth, but I probably only squeezed out 70% of the liquid. The cooking light recipe only called for 1 egg, while other recipes call for 3. Needless to say, my latkes did not have an easy time staying together. The low-fat recipe also called for baking the latkes rather than frying them. However, baking them just left the little suckers sticking to the baking sheet, even after greasing the sheet with a little more oil than called for.

In the end, the salvageable latkes looked very yummy, but they just tasted like hash-browns. It was a whole lot of effort for not much payoff, so I shan’t be making this recipe again.

However, the Brisket (yes, with a capital B), was a whole lot of payoff for not much effort. Oh, the yin and yang balance of my kitchen! I once again turned to Cook's Illustrated and their recipe for Onion-Braised Beef Brisket (free registration). Basically, you just stick the browned brisket in a foil packet with some sautéed onions and other sundry spices. This method yielded a surprisingly tender piece of meat in roughly 2 hours, leaving me plenty of time to paint my nails while watching season 1 of The Muppet Show. I have to try the Swedish Chef’s recipe for doughnuts.

I tend to end these recipe reviews with a Jerry Springer-style Final Thought. Instead, I’ll ask a trivia question. The second part of this post’s title is from a television show. What was the name of the episode that I ripped it from? I promise to mail a treat to the first person to answer correctly.

Will You Still Feed Me When I’m 24?

2006-03-02T21:16:00.000-05:00

As you may have noticed, I haven’t updated in quite some time. Oh. You haven’t noticed? Well then. This is awkward.

The latter days of February brought about two momentous occasions: my strokeaversary and my 24th birthday.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the term “strokeaversary,” I’ll explain. You see, three years ago, I “suffered” a stroke. No cause was ever decided upon, which is quite alarming for a young girl celebrating her 21st birthday. That time was for self-induced brain damage from alcohol, not brain damage from “neurological accidents” (what the doctors ended up calling it). Well, point is, I’m 98% recovered now, and I tend to celebrate the anniversary with a party. Hence, the strokeaversary gala!

Foodwise, the strokeaversary mainly consisted of booze. No brain cell goes unharmed here! I also made hummus with paprika spiced pita chips, chocolate chip cookies, butter-spice cookies dipped in chocolate, and a fantastic punch I dubbed “BrainFreeze,” which consisted of frozen raspberries, frozen lemonade, triple sec, and a whole bunch of tequila. ‘Twas great, and ‘twas gone in 60 seconds. (YES! My first Nicolas Cage reference in this blog. Keep your eyes peeled for more, kids!)

My birthday week was a week of nice restaurants and Broadway shows courtesy my mum from Florida. Rather than bore you with details, I’ll try to keep this brief.

2/21- DB Bistro Moderne- I had the cod veiled (sexy way of saying wrapped) in bacon. The bacon was way too overpowering for the cod, but the gnocchi that came with it was great. Q had the famous $30 burger. Imagine the layers of the earth. Short ribs form the core, while fois gras is the mantle and ground sirloin is the crust. This is the tastiest earth science lesson that you’ll ever have. It was pretty good, but Q decided that the burgers at Corner Bistro are better. Afterwards we went to see Doubt. Great play, but we weren’t too keen on Jena Malone.

2/23- We went to see Sweeney Todd, which was fantastic. Can’t recommend this production enough.

2/24- Dinner at Hearth. Excellent! I decided to go here after reading a review over at The Amateur Gourmet. Delicious. I'm so glad I followed the advice of a complete (albeit funny) stranger. I started with the Hamachi with Honeycrisp Apples, Pickled Celery and Coriander, had the Wild Boar Pappardelle with Red Wine and Rosemary as an entrée and ended stealing everyone else’s desserts: Apple Cider Doughnuts, Meyer Lemon Merangue tart, and my favorite, the Milk Chocolate Tart with Semolina Crust and Peanut Brittle Ice Cream. YUM!

Strokes, tequila, theater, friends, family, and great food. All in all, not too shabby a birthday week, I must say!

I Adore a Challenge

2006-02-16T07:34:00.000-05:00

I don’t like it when food is described as “challenging.” It makes me envision burnt bread that’s incredibly difficult to swallow due to the multiple razor blades jutting out. I was a little nervous that most reviews for WD-50 mentioned that the food was “challenging.”

My valentine accompanied me to WD-50 last night, and we proceeded to have the best meal that I have had in New York. Better than Fiamma Osteria, better than Craft, even better than Esca (I really loved Esca). I realize that many of my entries have been glowing recently, but I have had unbelievable culinary good luck for the past month. I promise to make up for it, I’ll post about my recent bread-baking-failure soon.

Back to WD-50. Wylie Dufresne (my current culinary hero) put together a special Valentine’s Day tasting menu with optional wine pairing. The tasting menu was pretty darn pricey, but we figured it was a special occasion and we deserved to splurge. It was worth it.

Course 1: Salmon threads, warm cream cheese, capers, pumpernickel
This was basically a deconstructed bagel w/ lox and cream cheese. The pumpernickel was a bagel chip, sticking out of a rectangular cube of warm (perhaps seared) cream cheese. The salmon threads were indeed threads topped with a sprinkling of capers. I could stick one in a needle and do some tasty embroidery. The entire presentation presented familiar flavors using new textures, and treading on the tightrope between familiarity and the alien was a delicious exercise.

Course 2: Oyster, morcilla, green apple, kimchee
I’ve never been a huge oyster fan. I don’t enjoy the idea of slurping anything from its home. However, this oyster was pressed as thin as paper, creating a perfect square on the plate, retaining the gelatinous texture, but forcing you to eat it in a new way. The pressed oyster was topped with green apple, morcilla (blood sausage), and kimchee. The neatest thing about this course was the way the flavors developed and appeared when you ate everything together. First, you experience the tart sweetness of the apple, then the smokiness of the sausage, finished by an almost pickle-like flavor. The flavors never overlap and combine, but rather they appear in different acts, much like the dinner gum from Willy Wonka with the different courses. All through the bite, the oyster flavor acts as a backdrop, always present but never overwhelming. This dish was neat.

Course 3: Roasted foie gras, hibiscus, preserved lemon granola, mustard greens
This dish was also topped with powdered foie gras. This dish was just straight up tasty. The sweet hibiscus sauce was so good with the foie gras, and the lemon granola added the perfect tart crunch.

Course 4: Bay scallops, smoked eel, black radish, mint
Perhaps the most straightforward dish of the bunch. I don’t particularly like the texture of scallops, but these were buttery and soft. It wasn’t particularly innovative, but it was just very, very good cooking.

Course 5: Sirloin, bell pepper tart, water spinach, whipped horseradish
Okay, first off, this wasn’t whipped horseradish… it was foam! The crack chef wasn’t totally cracked out after all. While the foam was a little gimmicky, the bell pepper tart was out of this world. It was my valentine’s favorite part of the meal. The sirloin was perfectly rare and the spinach was just plain good. Very good, but filling.

At this point in the meal, I was beginning to feel quite full. The tasting portions are small, but they add up. But enough whining. On to dessert! This portion of the feast is courtesy of pastry chef Sam Mason.

Course 6: Cocoa caviar, beet, bitter orange
Once, again, foam! The beet was pureed into a foam. The cocoa caviar was just as it sounds: caviar made of chocolate. It had the same texture and satisfying pop that caviar has, but it was made of chocolate. The cocoa and orange went together swimmingly. That being said, this was my least favorite dish. My valentine loved it, but I was getting hard to impress. I guess that’s the downside to a tasting menu.

Course 7: gelled grapefruit, black sesame ice cream, tarragon meringue
The grapefruit gel was slightly warm, which was a wonderful juxtaposition to the cold, sweet ice cream. This dish had probably the most foreign flavor to me, but it was a flavor I instantly fell in love with. Delicious. Oh, and Wylie? You can call it a meringue all you want. I know foam when I see it.

Course 8: rose cotton candy
Okay, this wasn’t really a course. But it was a tasty aperitif that the waiter brought with the check. I love cotton candy. It was sweet and familiar, but with the subtle flavor of rosewater.

So, if I had to sum up my meal at WD-50 in one word, I’d probably have to say “challenging.” Challenging in the way that each bite made you reevaluate what you knew about flavors and textures. Challenging in the way that you actually thought about what was in your mouth. Challenging in the way that I couldn’t find the bathroom downstairs. However, it was the most rewarding meal that I’ve had in a long time.

Best non-Thanksgiving Meal from my Jersey Kitchen

2006-02-12T16:59:00.000-05:00

I've recently begun a subscription to Cook's Illustrated, a magazine from the America's Test Kitchen folks on PBS. The magazine has tons of detailed explanations and each recipe is the result of many experiments. They screw things up so you don't have to. Such detail means that each magazine only has a handful of recipes, but one in particular caught my eye. Seeing as we were due for a blizzard up here in the New York area, I decided to spend a few hours in the kitchen, creating the Skillet Chicken Pot Pie from Cook's Illustrated.

Holy crap. This is the best thing to ever come out of my kitchen (not counting Thanksgiving), and I've been in this apartment for about 2 1/2 years. I ain't exaggerating here, folks. This is it. This was the best pot pie that I've ever had, including any that I've had at fancy-schmancy restaurants.

However, it is exceedingly time-intensive. First you have to pan-sear the chicken, then roast it with the vegetables, then create the sauce deglazing the pan with broth and cream, and assemble with a homemade crust. Doing all the steps using the same oven-proof skillet speeds things up a bit, but it still takes roughly 2-3 hours. But it's worth it. It's so, so worth it. I can't emphasize enough how worth it this dish is. This is the dish you bust out when you want to impress someone. In my case, the impressee was a farmboy from Iowa, so this was perfect. He was impressed. He already had leftovers for lunch, and he's petitioning for more leftovers for dinner.

The inside is the simple combination of roast chicken, carrots, celery, onions (white and pearl), with the gravy sauce (drippings, broth, and a bit of cream). The crust was unbelievably flaky, thanks to ice cold butter and my trusty cuisinart.

I can't even come up with anything witty to say. The simplicity and complexity of the taste blew me away. Yum.

Maple-Walnut Spice Cookies

2006-02-12T11:43:00.000-05:00

C is for Cookie was my favorite song growing up. I am a massive Jim Henson fanatic, and I always related to Cookie Monster more than any other muppet. Well, besides the Swedish Chef. We have kindred souls.

I have a monstrous sweet tooth. Monstrous, I say. So, as many people know, cookies are a necessity at my apartment. I was a little chocolated out from the Steeler Black and Gold cookies, so I leafed through my December 2005 issue of Cooking Light (the holiday cookie edition), and choose the yummy looking Maple-Walnut Spice Cookies!

The cookies themselves used brown sugar and maple syrup as sweeteners, so they ended up tasting like molasses were involved. The cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and cloves along with the insane amount of flour created a sort of cakey gingersnap. The frosting was mostly milk, powdered sugar, and maple syup, and it ended up being a runny icing rather than a frosting. It was still good, and the crushed toasted walnuts had no problem sticking to the top.

I'm not sure if I would bake these again. They certainly got good reviews from the other cookie monster in the apartment, but the crumbly dough was kind of a pain to work with. However, after the effort, they were light, not too sweet, and lovely with some spiced tea. Mmm.

Hamliton Ale House

2006-02-12T11:07:00.000-05:00

Last Sunday was a, well, a lazy sunday (no magnolia cupcakes, unfortunately). The kind of day where you want a nice brunch, but you don't want to get on a PATH train or subway to do so. What's a Jersey City gal to do? Hamilton Ale House!

I ususally only go to the Hamilton Ale House for their food, which is surprisingly good for a pub and very reasonably priced. The neighborhoody vibe and casual atmosphere make for the perfect brunch setting. Don't get me wrong, they have a decent beer selection and a perfectly well-stocked bar, but it's just not my scene for drinking. For french toast, it is DEFINITELY my scene.

Behold, Tahitian Vanilla and Grand Marinier French Toast topped with roasted pears. The toast itself wasn't too eggy, and it retained just the right amount of liquid to give it a punch. It was juicy (but not soggy) on the outside, and soft and tender on the inside. The pears complemented the slight orange taste of the Grand Marnier. It had just the right amount of sweetness and tartness that adding syrup would be blasphemy. And the coffee wasn't too shabby.

My partner in crime, Q Anonymous, had Pumpkin Pancakes with Candied Walnuts. His lack of conversation hinted that it too was very, very good. So, if you're in the neighborhood (off the Pavonia PATH train stop), give Hamilton Ale House a try.

Mmmm...Tasty Literature...

2006-02-10T18:31:00.000-05:00

Vosges chocolate is personally one of my favorite chocolate-mongers. They specialize in creating unusual and tasty flavor combinations, like chocolate with Indian curry, or their absinthe flavored truffle. This Valentine’s Day, they offer their Gatsby collection.

I feel like receiving these chocolates is a little like getting a box of dead roses. It's a rather cynical gesture of amorous affection. Sure, on the surface, The Great Gatsby seems to be an epic story about this great lost love, but its actual commentary on the opulence and shallowness of the upper class is rather dark. Gatsby was an idealistic moron who never truly loved Daisy. He loved what she represented, and he changed himself through crime to become worthy of this ho who ran off with another dude. Not exactly an epic romance.

However, the chocolates themselves are apt, if not a bit boring for Vosges. The Gatsby chocolates are a fusion of dark chocolate, rich and at the same time pure, with brut champagne. The Daisy truffles are a combination of white chocolate (which isn’t even technically chocolate due to its lack of chocolate liquor) and pink champagne- creating a truffle that seems extravagant, but has the connotation of being false and a bit tacky.

It seems like I’m being unnecessarily harsh on Vosges. If my experience with Vosges is any indicator, the truffles are probably incredibly tasty. If I ever happen to try them (hint, hint to all my strapping young suitors out there), I’ll slap up an update.

Available at www.vosgeschocolate.com

A Little Behind on the Times

2006-02-10T18:30:00.000-05:00

A good friend of mine had quite a night last weekend. It basically involved him losing his keys, and going from party to party in hopes of finding food or a nice couch to crash on. One of these parties turned out to be a “crack den” as he puts it. He met one gentleman who is apparently a very good chef, and he told him that the inside scoop for 2006 is that foam is the hip new trend. You heard it hear first folks: foam.

Oh wait, that was the hip, new trend in 1999. Um. Maybe I shouldn’t get my food trend information from crack dens.

I Want Candy...

2006-02-10T18:28:00.000-05:00

For anyone who’s still looking for a gift, nothing says I love you like a candy jock strap. Nothing.

Available at www.dylanscandybar.com

Whip it!

2006-02-03T21:53:00.000-05:00

Kidzbop is pretty amazing. For those of you who doubt, I challenge you to google their music video of Kelly Clarkson's
"Since U Been Gone." As much of a sucker as I am for kids badly singing contemporary hits, I'm even more of a fan of kids badly singing the hits of Devo.

So you can imagine my reaction when I found this:

Dev2.0

Disney has read my mind once again. Hop on over to the site, click on videos, and watch their video for "Whip it." It's food-related. I promise.

Pour Some Sugar on Me!

2006-02-03T20:32:00.000-05:00

Speaking of candy… am I the only one TOTALLY creeped out by the recent M-azing candy bar commercial? If you haven’t seen it, go to their site, and click on M-azing TV. I understand that the candy is a delicious fusion of M&Ms and a chocolate bar, but ack! I feel so dirty when I see it! I’d be much happier innocently thinking that my candy bar was brought to me by the stork.

Chocolate on Chocolate Action

At least they’re using candy-coated protection.

mmm... Cajeta...

2006-02-03T20:22:00.000-05:00

This candy bar was introduced in 2004, but I am rather behind in my candy news. Hershey teamed up with Latin pop sensation Thalia Sodi (best known to me as the only Mrs. Tommy Mottola to have her own Kmart clothes line- take that Mariah!) to create a line of candy called “La Dulceria Thalia.” The candy bar that intrigues me so is this:

The bar is named “Cajeta Elegancia,” because in Mexico, cajeta is like nougat, a core ingredient in the bar. However, in other Spanish-speaking countries like Argentina, “cajeta” has a more nether meaning. It’s common slang for a woman’s lower anatomy. Her “box” if you will.

Look! It made Money Magazine’s top 101 list of dumbest moments in business!

dumb dumb dumb

In an attempt to elevate the discourse on this blog, I am abstaining from making a snide remark about this nomenclatorial blunder.

By the way, according to Hershey, Thalia’s “Cajeta” is kosher.

Hershey's Kosher Info

Posthumous Ramblings (or rather Post: Humorous Ramblings!)

2006-02-02T19:06:00.000-05:00

Okay, admittedly, this entry has nothing to do with food. There was an awful news item today. Apparently, smugglers from Columbia used puppies as drug mules, surgically implanting packets of liquid heroin inside their cute, furry little bodies. The puppies were then used to transport the drugs to New York, and, naturally, many puppies did not survive the journey. I don’t know about you, but this is the most vile, repugnant thing I’ve heard in days.

Then I saw this paper on the way to work today:

Bravo, New York Post. Your headline-crafting genius cannot be denied. I have a sincere appreciation for puns, and a greater admiration for finding humor in the direst of situations. My hat’s off to you, Post. You win this round.

My Spaghetti Western starring Mario Batali

2006-02-02T09:10:00.000-05:00

I had a craptastic day at work yesterday. You know how sometimes you get so angry at a family member or your S.O. and you scream “I hate you,” knowing fully well that you can take it back in a few hours? You just need that cathartic release of anger. You should be able to quit your job and take it back. I wanted to quit soooooo badly yesterday, but then when I thought of the reality of cleaning out my desk, it just seemed like too much effort. So, I decided to remain at my job out of sheer desk-cleaning laziness.

A terrible day calls for serious comfort food. Comfort food is universal in its effect, yet totally individual. Everybody has their own comfort food. Some like the rib-sticking effect of fried chicken and waffles, while others like the heavy creaminess of mashed potatoes. Usually, comfort food is dense, bringing the consumer to a blissful food coma. It can be associated with a memory, or it can just be plain yummy.

My usual go-to comfort food is thai curry, but lacking coconut milk and the energy to buy some, I searched for an equally comforting food. Hmmm. I had ground turkey. I had pasta. Spaghetti and meatballs! Perfect in its familiarity and simplicity.

Reader: But surely such an average, everyday meal doesn’t deserve its own post!
Me: Say what? You best not be doubting my blogging editorial skills!
Reader: Dude, you make that meal like once a month. Bo-o-o-ring.
Me: Okay, fine. I’ll make it different. I’ll, um, I’ll make my own sauce.
Reader: But I thought you said you were feeling crappy and lazy.
Me: You’re right. Luckily, I have this sauce recipe from Mario Batali that looks stupid-easy.
Reader: Stupid-easy?
Me: Yup. That’s what I said. Um, right after I got off yo mama. Yeah.
Reader: Wow, you’re lame. And this imaginary conversation has gone on for way too long.

So, tonight’s meal: Whole wheat spaghetti with turkey meatballs in Mario Batali’s Basic Tomato Sauce

Yumminess Here
Okay, since I never follow any recipe to the letter, I changed the sauce a bit. I didn’t have any thyme, so I added a pinch of sage and some basil. I also don’t have a grater, so I chopped my carrot finely rather than shredding it. Despite these setbacks, the sauce was amazing. So simple, yet so comforting. Just like my imaginary italian grandma used to make (played by Tony Danza. Or Judi Dench). I also discovered the joy of crushing tomatoes. Screw anger management or kickboxing. Crushing tomatoes is where it’s at.

Easy comfort food. So much better than a box of instant mac and cheese.

Steelers Black & Gold Cookies

2006-01-31T18:59:00.000-05:00

Well. It appears that I am finally catching up with technology and trying out one of those "blog" thingamajiggies. Harumph.

How was that for a first line? I am a master of wit. Seriously though, I keep drifting from hobby to hobby, and knitting, baking, and cooking seem to be the only ones that stick. Therefore, I spend a good majority of my time from about 3 to 4, when my brain becomes totally inundated and mushy from cubicle work, trolling blogs. I figured I spend so much time taking in information, I may as well give some back. That's right. It's Hammer Time. And Miller Time. Weird how those times coincide.

So, without further ado, I present you with my blog, Amusing Bouche (aka Dropping Edible Science). As you can probably tell from the name, I'll be spending most of my time focusing on food. My abridged history with food is that I love it. So much so, that over the years, most of my money has gone to it. Being a college student at NYU, a rather expensive school in a rather expensive city, I found myself chasing luxury on a budget. I didn't care that I had a pizza hut downstairs! I wanted a roast chicken with fingerling potatoes, damnit! When I graduated, I took another look at my budget and decided that my entry-level salary wasn't enough to support my taste. I had to start cooking for myself.

Now, this was no small feat. My mother's idea of cooking dinner was microwaving leftovers from the previous night's chinese takeout. So, I sat myself in front of the Food Network, took in what Mr. Brown, Mr. Batali, and Ms. Dean had to teach me (basically, use butter), and began my adventures in the culinary arts. After a little bit, I began to realize that the food coming from my tiny kitchen was pretty darn tasty!

One of my New Year's Resolutions is to cook a new recipe every other week. A NEW recipe. It has to be something I could learn from, whether it's using a new ingredient or using a new technique. I hope that by documenting the process, I can actually be held accountable for my culinary ambitions. When I do cook one of these special dishes, I probably make a big, annoying fuss about it.

So, enough talk about me, and on to the food! The super bowl is this sunday, and I know a few Steeler fans (shout out to TOOD! WHOOOOOOO!). So, I decided to make a few munchies in support of the Pittsburgh steelers. Tonight, I bring you:

Black and Gold Cookies

Inspired by the Black and White Cookies from Gourmet, Feb 2002

For cookies, I used the recipe as is, but I doubled the ingredients (I'm feeding football fans!)

I altered the icing recipe a bit. I omitted the lemon juice and increased the water (I used hot water to even out the consistency) to 2 1/2 tablespoons. Then, I reserved 1/3 of the icing, and added the 1/4 tsp. vanilla to the larger batch. A little red and a lot of yellow food coloring later, and I had my gold icing. It's more of a glaze than a frosting, which is just how I like 'em.

For the chocolate side, I didn't have dutch-process cocoa powder on hand. Luckily, I had this:

I melted the chocolate up with a little cream and added it to the reserved third of the icing.

Then I flipped the cookies over and frosted the flat side. I also had a glass of red wine to help me with the process. A little sloppy, but yum!