In the summer, I can never eat enough gazpacho. Whether it's chunky, pureed, served with a dollop of sour cream, loaded with cilantro, spicy, or mild, I want it every day, multiple times a day. Along with the taste and variation, I like that it's a refreshing, light meal, though sometimes I crumble in some baguette or cornbread to make it heartier.
My all time favorite gazpacho is served at G&M Cafe in Charleston. I've been eating there since high school, and even though I only manage to go once a year or so now, I think about it often this time of year. These days I prefer my gazpacho a little spicier than G&M's, but for the familiarity and comfort level factors, theirs is still my number one. It has a superb, small chunkiness that's made slightly creamy by a dollop of sour cream, and it's chock full of peppers and tomatoes. I like to order a toasted, open-faced croissant with goat cheese and olive paste with it, and alternate bites of each -- the slight tartness of the spreads gives the soup a greater flavor depth.
Around the corner from my apartment, I recently tried The Mermaid Inn's honeydew and cucumber gazpacho with Maine lobster. There was a handsome sprinkling of cilantro, which, with the cucumber, countered the honeydew's sweetness. The soup was velvety, while the generous pieces of lobster were salty and juicy. It's served as an appetizer for $10, a lot for soup, but a pittance for soup with lobster.
I've also been enjoying the gazpacho at Ruben's Empanadas.
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One of the best meals I've recently had was a splurge at E.U. Yet another of New York's gastropubs (E.U. stands for European Union), it's not really pubby looking (there's exposed brick, porcelain fixtures, a lovely skylight, and a raw bar), but they do have a nice beer selection. Jon and I shared the tasting flight of five handcrafted artisanal beers, which come to the table on a butcher block. Surprisingly, the best was an apple-flavored Gouden Caralous. We also shared a charcuterie plate piled with cheese and juicy chunks of chorizo. Jon ordered the chicken and dumplings with brussel sprout fondue and chestnut gnocchi. It's gotten rave reviews but the small bite I had was a bit too chewy.
I ordered the poached wild striped bass with endive marmalotta, shiitake mushrooms, and pistachio vinaigrette. Perfect for a night where Spring was in the air but hadn't yet settled in for the season, the dish found the fine balance between a light and old world, overly heavy preparation. The fish was very fresh, juicy, and clean tasting, and the endive marmalotta was rapturous. If I'm remembering right, the waiter said that a marmalotta preparation means that the endive was cooked with chicory, giving it a sweet, mildly coffee-like flavor. Each ingredient in the bowl was allowed to shine in a complementing manner, and each forkful was a slight surprise. I often find that I either don't see or taste some of the ingredients that are listed on the menu in an entree's description, but that was not the case at E.U.
We had no choice but to order the stick toffee pudding for dessert, which is served in cake form (I prefer Bar Americain's parfait version), with buttermilk ice cream on the side. After, we pond-hopped to the couch for the rest of the night.
*** *** ***
I'm in love with New York Magazine's Grub Street blog, in part for "The Annotated Dish," which shows a sumptuous photo of say, Per Se's Summer Steak Salad, with arrows pointing to each ingredient. You can mouse over the arrows for descriptions from chefs like Jonathan Benno: "We use a trio of radishes: red radish, icicle radish, and French-breakfast radish. We sous-vide them with sesame oil, rice-wine vinegar, crushed lemongrass, chile, ginger, and coriander seed at 83 degrees Celsius."
On another food blog-related note, a few weeks ago at the end of a friend's fabulous wedding weekend, a wine-smart friend tried to engage me in a conversation about how foodies aren't usually all that wine-savvy. I agreed but had reached the end of my social graces for the weekend and could say no more. A bit more refreshed the next day, I emailed my friend Francis Lam, a contributing editor at Gourmet, to see what he had to say on the subject. See his thoughts here, on the magazine's blog.
Sunday, July 01, 2007
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Songs For Ice Cream Lovers
I recently had the pleasure of interviewing Michael Hearst of Brooklyn band One Ring Zero about his new album, "Songs For Ice Cream Trucks," for Venus Zine. Doesn't the title make you curious, and hungry?Here's an excerpt from my article:
"When Michael Hearst sticks his head into his Brooklyn freezer to report on its contents, he notes a bottle of gin, lots of coffee, and a bag of lima beans. There are plastic containers of six-month-old homemade chili and chopped herbs for the next time he needs a pinch of fresh cilantro — à la Martha Stewart, he says..."
To find out what else is in Hearst's freezer, as well as more info about the album, why Lemony Snicket and Michael Chabon are blurbed on its cover, and where to find some of NYC's best ice cream, click here.
Saturday, June 09, 2007
Lemons and Memories
As I've always said, when life gives you lemons, make lemon pasta. Actually, I'd never said that until I typed it just now, nor had I made lemon pasta until a few weeks ago, when I had the girls over. Though it was downpouring and chilly outside, inside I'd decided to cook up a meal to celebrate the first days of Spring. I shook a pitcher of margaritas, tossed a salad, spooned strawberry ice cream onto chocolate cookies to make dessert sandwiches, and then got down to business, margarita in one hand, recipe for Sandro Fioriti's Spaghettini Al Limone in the other.
I remember very clearly the night I first tasted the spaghettini at Sandro's restaurant -- it was about seven years ago, just a few months after I moved to New York. Back then Sandro's was on 9th Avenue in Chelsea, a few blocks from my first apartment. To start, my dining companion and I shared another of the dishes chef Sandro is known for, Roman-style fried artichokes. The artichoke is trimmed, lightly fried, then flattened with a pan. The leaves are left crispy, but the heart stays soft. After that particular meal, I fondly remember that a choke thorn was lodged in my throat for at least the next 24 hours.
The pasta was like nothing I'd tasted before -- thin swirls of al dente noodles drenched in a cream sauce that was flecked in all directions by gleaming lemon zest and a curious, deeper, primal taste of lemon, which I now know to be from the lemon juice that's strained into the sauce as it cooks. Ethereal on the tongue but made heavy with cream, the pasta was a deceivingly light meal. After dinner we walked 20 blocks uptown to meet a friend at a bar. I carried my leftovers all the way to the bar and then back home.
To my disappointment, Sandro's closed years ago, and Klee Brasserie is now in its old space. Recently New York Magazine ran the pasta recipe to showcase a use for Meyer lemons. I think Sandro uses standard lemons though, so I did too. I haven't cooked much lately and was nervous about my decision to double the recipe and also substitute one pint of heavy cream for a pint of half-and-half in an attempt to decrease the high fat content. I also used spaghetti since I couldn't find spaghettini.
As a methodical cook, zesting and juicing the lemons was slow going for me, but other than that, there's not much labor involved with the recipe. When it came time to toss the pasta with the sauce, I hesitated in pouring all of it in -- was I really going to pour all that fatty liquid onto the pasta? Yes. The pasta soaked it right up, and so did we. It was flavorful, fragrant, slightly tart, reminiscent of Spring, and it suffered none from my substitutions. I ate a humongous amount of it that night and in the days following -- as much for the memories it evoked as for actual hunger.
Sandro can now be found at the third incarnation of Sandro's, this time on the Upper East Side, serving his lemon pasta and fried artichokes, and there's free cacio e pepe after midnight at the bar. I look forward to enjoing his cooking again soon, and wonder how the pasta I ate during my first nerve-wracking, intoxicating, unforgettable New York months will now compare to the one I made seven years later.
That's the thing about New York: its restaurants, bars, museums, parks, waterways, schools, and businesses exude so much richness and zest, and it lets its inhabitants absorb as much of it as we can, while also letting us make the city our own.
"We take these grenades, and we turn them into lemonade." -Eddie Izzard, "The Riches"
I remember very clearly the night I first tasted the spaghettini at Sandro's restaurant -- it was about seven years ago, just a few months after I moved to New York. Back then Sandro's was on 9th Avenue in Chelsea, a few blocks from my first apartment. To start, my dining companion and I shared another of the dishes chef Sandro is known for, Roman-style fried artichokes. The artichoke is trimmed, lightly fried, then flattened with a pan. The leaves are left crispy, but the heart stays soft. After that particular meal, I fondly remember that a choke thorn was lodged in my throat for at least the next 24 hours.
The pasta was like nothing I'd tasted before -- thin swirls of al dente noodles drenched in a cream sauce that was flecked in all directions by gleaming lemon zest and a curious, deeper, primal taste of lemon, which I now know to be from the lemon juice that's strained into the sauce as it cooks. Ethereal on the tongue but made heavy with cream, the pasta was a deceivingly light meal. After dinner we walked 20 blocks uptown to meet a friend at a bar. I carried my leftovers all the way to the bar and then back home.
To my disappointment, Sandro's closed years ago, and Klee Brasserie is now in its old space. Recently New York Magazine ran the pasta recipe to showcase a use for Meyer lemons. I think Sandro uses standard lemons though, so I did too. I haven't cooked much lately and was nervous about my decision to double the recipe and also substitute one pint of heavy cream for a pint of half-and-half in an attempt to decrease the high fat content. I also used spaghetti since I couldn't find spaghettini.
As a methodical cook, zesting and juicing the lemons was slow going for me, but other than that, there's not much labor involved with the recipe. When it came time to toss the pasta with the sauce, I hesitated in pouring all of it in -- was I really going to pour all that fatty liquid onto the pasta? Yes. The pasta soaked it right up, and so did we. It was flavorful, fragrant, slightly tart, reminiscent of Spring, and it suffered none from my substitutions. I ate a humongous amount of it that night and in the days following -- as much for the memories it evoked as for actual hunger.
Sandro can now be found at the third incarnation of Sandro's, this time on the Upper East Side, serving his lemon pasta and fried artichokes, and there's free cacio e pepe after midnight at the bar. I look forward to enjoing his cooking again soon, and wonder how the pasta I ate during my first nerve-wracking, intoxicating, unforgettable New York months will now compare to the one I made seven years later.
That's the thing about New York: its restaurants, bars, museums, parks, waterways, schools, and businesses exude so much richness and zest, and it lets its inhabitants absorb as much of it as we can, while also letting us make the city our own.
"We take these grenades, and we turn them into lemonade." -Eddie Izzard, "The Riches"
Friday, June 08, 2007
Ready to Talk
Yesterday I wanted gazpacho for lunch, so I headed to Pret a Manger in hopes they'd have some. They did, and it was quite good -- not very spicy, but fresh and tangy with tomatoes, bell peppers and cucumbers. As I was people-watching, I noticed a woman with a reporter's notebook interviewing two diners. I always perk up a little when I see a reporter's notebook -- it's the Katharine Graham in me. When I finished eating, I approached her and asked who she was writing for. Turned out she was doing a story about the upcoming influx of Prets around the city for The New York Sun.
I sat down for a quick interview, and talked about how Pret lives up to its name (which means ready to eat) by being quick, efficient, consistent, and satisfying. Their sandwiches may be pre-made, but they are fresher than most chains, and they often use organics. During the 30 minutes that I was in the Broad St. store, I saw the sandwich shelves being refilled twice. As I've previously written here, their sandwiches make great airplane food -- wonder when they'll open a JFK kiosk.
There was a lot of buzz when Pret arrived here from London , but I remember that a few of the locations closed pretty quickly. A few years later, they've found their market and business is booming, according to the article, which quotes me!
I sat down for a quick interview, and talked about how Pret lives up to its name (which means ready to eat) by being quick, efficient, consistent, and satisfying. Their sandwiches may be pre-made, but they are fresher than most chains, and they often use organics. During the 30 minutes that I was in the Broad St. store, I saw the sandwich shelves being refilled twice. As I've previously written here, their sandwiches make great airplane food -- wonder when they'll open a JFK kiosk.
There was a lot of buzz when Pret arrived here from London , but I remember that a few of the locations closed pretty quickly. A few years later, they've found their market and business is booming, according to the article, which quotes me!
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Don’t Cut the Crust
I made a PB&J for lunch yesterday. As I do often at work. Yes, I’m late 20s and still saving my lunch money by PBJing it. Saving it to spend on grownup food and drinks on weeknights and weekends that is. Somehow less food begets more. My sandwich is relatively grownup though – I use whole wheat or oat bread, grind the honey roasted peanuts into butter at Whole Foods, and use whatever flavor of their fruit spread I fancy when I’m grocery shopping (it’s $1.99 a jar!). This week it was “Fruit of the Forest,” a mix of grape juice, raspberries, strawberries, blackberries and black cherries.
I find myself liking sandwiches more now than ever before. I typically need to eat carbs to feel full, and I like the rainbow of flavors and textures you get in each bite. During the five years that I didn’t eat meat, the veggie sandwich options became redundant, but now I have many more choices.
Here’s some of my other favorite sandwiches. If you feel inclined to call them “sammies,” a la Rachael Ray, please don’t do so in my presence. I might throw a tomato (sandwich) at you.
Nothing says summer to me like a thick, juicy tomato sandwich on white bread smeared with mayo and a dash of salt and pepper. I like eating them barefoot at the kitchen counter while staring out the window, remembering my childhood summers and all the excitement and promise that came with the onslaught of the extreme South Carolina heat. I miss summer camp.
My all time favorite tea sandwich is cucumber and cream cheese. If you want a proper tea with champagne, towers of sandwiches, scones, cookies, cakes and all, there’s no lovelier place to go in NYC than Lady Mendl’s.
A few weekends ago, Jon and I went to Philadelphia to visit family friends of mine. I was on a mission to have my first authentic Philly Cheesesteak, so our hostess took us to Geno’s Steaks, which is across the street from Pat's King of Steaks. I wondered aloud what the difference between the two was, so we hatched a plan to split up so we could try both. Jon moved more quickly through the Pat's line, and by the time we sat down with our Geno's cheesesteak, we were almost finished with Pat's, which was juicy and Cheese Whizzy. From the first bite of Geno's, we knew that despite the shorter line, Pat's was easily the better of the two. From the soft bread, chewy, flavorless meat and shortage of Cheese Whiz, Geno's (see my nonplussed look above) was a disappointment. Next time we'll head straight to Pat's.
When Nicky’s Vietnamese Sandwiches opened in the East Village a few years ago, I read about it and thought it sounded really good but too far from my Chelsea apartment to seek out on its own. Now that it’s a few blocks from home, I make up for my prior laziness with a weekly trip there for the vegetarian bahn mi. It’s served on a slightly crumby baguette with portobello mushrooms, pickled carrots, cucumbers, cilantro, jalapenos and mayo. The mushrooms are meaty and soft, in nice contrast to the crunch of the bread and vegetables. You can get it without the jalapenos, but to me they add a delicious aspect of Russian roulette to each bite – besides, the mayo helps temper the seediest ones. Nicky’s is best known for its classic bahn mi (paté, ham, and ground pork), which is rich, savory, and a little too meat-heavy for me. I need to try the sardine sandwich sometime.
I've only been once, and need to go back soon to Panino Sportivo. The panini I had with Parma prosciutto, sliced pears, goat cheese, arugula and honey was just one of many choices there. Mine was grilled to perfection on a thicker bread than most of the sandwiches I've had that are passed off as paninis.
Often on Saturdays, Jon and I have a post-gym lunch at ‘wichcraft, the baby in the Craft chain of restaurants. At our 8th St. location, there’s free wi-fi and live jazz to get you in a weekend state of mind. I'm actually at 'wichcraft right now, finishing up this post. I've got a cool, comfy corner banquette all to myself and am looking out on the beautiful NYC day. The jazz doesn't start until around 1 p.m., so instead I'm seat-dancing and singing along to the Prince, S&G, Morrissey, Tom Petty, Rolling Stones, and Led Zeppelin that they've been playing.
Compared to the other Craft restaurants, the sandwiches at ‘wichcraft (get it, sandwich, ‘wichcraft?) are a steal. Like the other restaurants, all the ingredients are carefully, well, crafted – the pork is slow roasted in house, the mozzarella hand-pulled, and the baked goods and ice creams are homemade. I just wolfed down the toasted smoked ham, cheddar, pear and mustard on cranberry-pecan bread sandwich. The cranberries and pear slices add a sweet component to the spicy mustard (which made me sneeze today!) and play excellently with the smokiness of the ham. It's a perfect combination.
My other favorite sandwiches here are the fried egg with bacon, gorgonzola and frisee on ciabatta; grilled fontina with black trumpet mushrooms and white truffle fondue on Pullman white bread; and salami with marinated cauliflower and baby-beet greens on ciabatta. I’m also particular to their cauliflower soup with basil oil – it’s rich and creamy, but has no dairy. The last time I was here, I finally turned in the five or six punch cards I’d collected over the years and miraculously held on to, and got my 13th sandwich free.
I find myself liking sandwiches more now than ever before. I typically need to eat carbs to feel full, and I like the rainbow of flavors and textures you get in each bite. During the five years that I didn’t eat meat, the veggie sandwich options became redundant, but now I have many more choices.
Here’s some of my other favorite sandwiches. If you feel inclined to call them “sammies,” a la Rachael Ray, please don’t do so in my presence. I might throw a tomato (sandwich) at you.
Nothing says summer to me like a thick, juicy tomato sandwich on white bread smeared with mayo and a dash of salt and pepper. I like eating them barefoot at the kitchen counter while staring out the window, remembering my childhood summers and all the excitement and promise that came with the onslaught of the extreme South Carolina heat. I miss summer camp.My all time favorite tea sandwich is cucumber and cream cheese. If you want a proper tea with champagne, towers of sandwiches, scones, cookies, cakes and all, there’s no lovelier place to go in NYC than Lady Mendl’s.
A few weekends ago, Jon and I went to Philadelphia to visit family friends of mine. I was on a mission to have my first authentic Philly Cheesesteak, so our hostess took us to Geno’s Steaks, which is across the street from Pat's King of Steaks. I wondered aloud what the difference between the two was, so we hatched a plan to split up so we could try both. Jon moved more quickly through the Pat's line, and by the time we sat down with our Geno's cheesesteak, we were almost finished with Pat's, which was juicy and Cheese Whizzy. From the first bite of Geno's, we knew that despite the shorter line, Pat's was easily the better of the two. From the soft bread, chewy, flavorless meat and shortage of Cheese Whiz, Geno's (see my nonplussed look above) was a disappointment. Next time we'll head straight to Pat's.
When Nicky’s Vietnamese Sandwiches opened in the East Village a few years ago, I read about it and thought it sounded really good but too far from my Chelsea apartment to seek out on its own. Now that it’s a few blocks from home, I make up for my prior laziness with a weekly trip there for the vegetarian bahn mi. It’s served on a slightly crumby baguette with portobello mushrooms, pickled carrots, cucumbers, cilantro, jalapenos and mayo. The mushrooms are meaty and soft, in nice contrast to the crunch of the bread and vegetables. You can get it without the jalapenos, but to me they add a delicious aspect of Russian roulette to each bite – besides, the mayo helps temper the seediest ones. Nicky’s is best known for its classic bahn mi (paté, ham, and ground pork), which is rich, savory, and a little too meat-heavy for me. I need to try the sardine sandwich sometime.
I've only been once, and need to go back soon to Panino Sportivo. The panini I had with Parma prosciutto, sliced pears, goat cheese, arugula and honey was just one of many choices there. Mine was grilled to perfection on a thicker bread than most of the sandwiches I've had that are passed off as paninis.
Compared to the other Craft restaurants, the sandwiches at ‘wichcraft (get it, sandwich, ‘wichcraft?) are a steal. Like the other restaurants, all the ingredients are carefully, well, crafted – the pork is slow roasted in house, the mozzarella hand-pulled, and the baked goods and ice creams are homemade. I just wolfed down the toasted smoked ham, cheddar, pear and mustard on cranberry-pecan bread sandwich. The cranberries and pear slices add a sweet component to the spicy mustard (which made me sneeze today!) and play excellently with the smokiness of the ham. It's a perfect combination.
My other favorite sandwiches here are the fried egg with bacon, gorgonzola and frisee on ciabatta; grilled fontina with black trumpet mushrooms and white truffle fondue on Pullman white bread; and salami with marinated cauliflower and baby-beet greens on ciabatta. I’m also particular to their cauliflower soup with basil oil – it’s rich and creamy, but has no dairy. The last time I was here, I finally turned in the five or six punch cards I’d collected over the years and miraculously held on to, and got my 13th sandwich free.
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