A Weekend of Aphrodisiacs: Champagne, Oysters and Glee.

It has been too beautiful out to stay inside and write, though I have been meaning to sit down and reflect on last weekend all week. So now that we're back to true San Franciscan fog and chill, I'll just come right out and say it: I spent one day in wine country, one day in oyster country and a night in an 80's bar. Top that!



By 10am on Saturday morning I was sunning myself on the balcony of the chateau Domaine Carneros with a flight of bubbly and a landscape of auburn colored grape vines. I know what my friends back East are thinking - something along the lines of 'shut-up-I-hate-you', but please allow me to brag about where I live for just a moment, as I have spent the past few posts lost somewhere between homesickness and adjustment. Let me have this. 


Our next stop was Cuvaison Estate Wines, where we were served crisp chardonnay and smooth pinot noirs in a tiny, yet chic modern greenhouse with a wrap around deck. Our group's favorites, besides the 20yr old sommelier who could have passed as Javier Bardem's son, was the 2008 Block Chardonnay and the 2008 F5 Block Pinot Noir. Both of which I purchased, but left at my (lucky) friend's house - ah, the perils of vineyard hopping.


Lunch was at Girl and the Fig in Sonoma Square, where we gorged ourselves on the Fromage Tower (a girl's dream come true), their famed fig and arugula salad (worth the hype), and their top sirloin burger with melted brie and grilled onions as my main course. The only thing I have to say about that is excessive. The traffic on the drive home was mitigated by a case of DCL's (known as Delicious Coors Lights in my house) and a sing along playlist that may or may not have included a number of Glee hits. The singing continued into the night with too much Whitesnake and not enough Guns n' Roses at Butter, rated San Francisco's #1 Trailer Park bar, for their Saturday Rock City Night ("a night of party rock anthemology and smash up madness!") Let me express how relieved I am that there were no video cameras around. It was not pretty.

Sunday was a touch tamer, starting with a breathtaking, albeit windy drive up Rt 1 (a therefore challenging trip for those with a stage 3 hangover). We made a few stops, sometimes for the scenery, more often for yours truly to find her stomach. Our final destination was 1.5hrs north of San Francisco in Marshall, California - otherwise known as Oyster Country. When it comes to my adoration of molluska, I am an equal opportunist. I find West Coast oysters creamier and nuttier than their East Coast cousins, who are saltier, brinier and tougher (a startlingly accurate representation of the coastal inhabitants, bivalve and homosapiens alike). It really depends what you're in the mood for. In my delicate state on Sunday, the less briny, the better. I needed those babies to go down smooth and gentle. And that they did. We washed down two dozen of the freshly shucked beasts on The Marshall Store's patio overlooking sunny and serene Tomales Bay: raw kumamoto, raw Pt Reyes, barbecued oysters, and smoked oysters served with a creamy chipotle sauce over toast points. My hangover virtually vanished - can you blame me?

 NBD, just kicked back a wheelbarrow's worth of bivalves:

In an effort to combine both experiences from my weekend in culinary glee, I recalled a dish from my Brother's engagement party: barbecued oysters with champagne butter. However, if this seems like too much work, stick to a glass of bubbly with a platter of raw oysters - a match made in Northern California heaven.

Barbecued Oysters with Champagne Butter:

For the Champagne Butter Sauce:

• 2T. minced shallots
• 2T. unsalted butter
• 1C Champagne

• 1 dozen large, fresh, live oysters in their shell (they should feel heavy and be clamped shut) 

1. Preheat barbecue grill.
2. Scrub oysters with brush under cold water and set aside.
3. In a small saucepan, melt the butter and soften the shallots over med/low heat, until fragrant.
4. Add the champagne to the saucepan and reduce by half over medium heat. 
5. When reduced, cover and keep warm over low heat.
6. Place oysters cup side down on grill, which should be about 4" from the hot coals. Close lid, open any vents and cook for 8-10 minutes until shells begin to open.
7. Remove all oysters when first one is completely open. I use an oven mitt to remove the oysters, so as to not spill their juices.
8. Pry open all oysters with a paring or oyster knife. Sever the muscle, leaving the oyster in it's half shell. Transfer onto a serving platter and drizzle with champagne butter sauce.
9. Be blissfully happy.

My next recipe may have to be one for roast duck, as my urban, Manhattan raised, previously non-water dog practiced her duck hunting skills on an unsuspecting stick this weekend. 

The stick won.

- The Heat

3200 Miles of Food: Eating My Way Across the USA

The trip started off shaky - a brutal hangover, terrible tunnel traffic and two bathroom breaks pre-New Jersey thanks to a gigantic iced coffee (I'm nicknamed Tiny Tank for good reason). It took us over two hours just to get off the island of Manhattan and I wondered aloud if we should turn back and try again another day. Maybe I was just melancholy about leaving NYC - or apprehensive about moving to a city I have never even been to. Perhaps I was just sad to be leaving my friends and family. Whatever it was, once we hit New Jersey I handed over the wheel, crawled into the backseat with my trusty canine, and was lulled to sleep by the sounds of tropical storm-like gusts and torrential downpours. I repeat - it was a shaky start. At that point there was nowhere to go, but up. Here's what was tops from East to West:

My goal was to eat my way cross country, focusing on local, authentic fare rather than fast food or chains (with the occasional slip-up expected - I heart snack-wraps). What I didn't fully realize was that I had voluntarily started down a dangerous path of nothing, but barbecue, wild game, and Tex-Mex for the next two weeks. In retrospect, suffice it to say I am not shocked we have obesity epidemic in this country. Warning: if you are on a diet, this post will not help matters.

Our first culinary destination was Columbus, Ohio where a tribe of my family resides. While their hometown of Powell, Ohio houses Oprah's favorite ice cream, Graeter's, my savory taste buds have always ruled my roost. I headed downtown for lunch at The North Market, Columbus' only public market, which holds roughly 35 vendors of all shapes and sizes. After approximately four laps and excessive taste testing, I settled on a light lunch of ribs, brisket baked beans and coleslaw from Holy Smoke BBQ. I washed it down with freshly made lemonade from Bubbles: The Tea and Juice Company and promptly needed a nap by the pool.

For those that have not driven it border to border, Kansas is an enormously large, tirelessly flat state. There was little reason to stop other than my baby sized bladder, until we stumbled upon the Blues and BBQ Festival in Hays, Kansas. I was a tad nervous about crashing a small town festival. I knew we wouldn't blend in, New York plates notwithstanding. When a man approached us as we picked our way tentatively through the grills, smokers, coolers and tents, I thought for sure we were going to be asked to leave. "Uh, we're looking for some barbecue, sir..." I started meekly, feeling rightfully so, like a lame, out of place tourist. "Well, why didn't you say so"?! I was guided by hand towards a mound of aluminum foil trays piled high with pulled pork, beef brisket, bbq chicken, beans, coleslaw, buns, and a cooler of ice-cold beers. "Everyone is inside watching the awards ceremony, but help yourself to anything." And off he went. Stupefied and stupidly grinning ear to ear, we built ourselves a plate and ventured inside to watch the remainder of the awards. Our new friend and his team - "Rubbin' Tail n' Chuggin' Ale" - won 5th overall in the Kansas State BBQ Championship and 2nd in barbecue chicken. I thought their beef brisket was tops, with it's sweet and spicy rub and wonderfully moist meat. But I wasn't a barbecue expert - yet.

After not much great in the Great Plains, we finally caught sight of the Rocky Mountains - I've never been so relieved and excited for a change in terrain. We rolled in to Denver late and ravenous; so we headed straight to City Grille for a mountainous burger (pun intended) and some ice cold Coors (when in Rome). Though it wasn't the best burger I've ever had, it was generous in size, piled high with grilled onions and served with a pile of their 'famous' coleslaw. The atmosphere alone was worth the visit - a no fuss dive-bar with a rock-n-roll sound track, salty bartenders and hoards of hungry hipsters, some in denim tuxedos - an unexpected, yet kind of expected surprise.

After a hike around Red Rock Amphitheater and an art show in Boulder, we started our next leg of the trip through the plateau of Wyoming. Our lone stop, besides the biggest Walmart I have ever witnessed (it had it's own hair salon, optometry center and food court!), was Bernie's Burrito's in Laramie, Wyoming. We discovered Bernie's thanks to a pile of his piping hot burritos stacked at the check out register of a local gas station. Hungry and curious, we took our chances and splurged on a black bean and beef burrito, which the cashier claimed he sold hundreds of each month. With our appetite whet for more, we found our way to the storefront and filled out our order with a chicken burrito and order of tacos. Fast food this was not - fresh, vibrant Tex-Mex it was. We were happy campers:

Nike Taco:

We started eating BBQ in Powell, Ohio and didn't stop until we got to California. Don't for one second think I'm complaining. By the time I got to Wyoming, I had become quite astute in my barbecue knowledge. And the BEST we came across was at Bubba's Bar-B-Que in Jackson, Wyoming. A friend and local had recommended Bubba's, thankfully, as I would have driven right past this diner look-a-like without a second glance. What the ambiance was missing, the food more than made up for. In my professional opinion, it was their barbecue sauce that was the secret to their amazing meats: ribs, chicken, brisket. It was also the secret ingredient to their unbelievable baked beans - which I lapped up with a slice of their two-inch thick Texas toast - heavenly. It was real deal, lip smackin', rib stickin', thigh slappin' barbecue and I imagine it'll taste even better after a day on the slopes this winter.

After gorging myself on piles of red meat, I felt it would be appropriate to continue the Western theme, so we headed to the well-known Million Dollar Cowboy Bar for some live country music and swing dancing cowboys. Dressed in my most Western attire (a laughable combination of turquoise jewelry, jeans and Frye boots), I found myself the largest saddle stool there was and drank it all in (literally).  I became increasingly aware that I was the only patron with both feet in the stirrups, one hand on the pommel, one hand in the air with my beer, maybe every once in a while letting out 'whoop' of joy. Eventually I relinquished my seat for one closer to the dance floor. And further from embarrassing my boyfriend.  Let me tell you - if there were room in the old CRV, I would have bought myself a saddle and brought back to San Fran. How much fun would your morning cereal be with one hand in the air? Yee haw!

To ease myself off the food coma from Bubba's, I treated myself to a sticky bun and eggs benedict from The Bunnery, a breakfast institution in Jackson. The line to be seated was down the block, so we took ours to go and ate overlooking the National Elk Refuge just outside town. Though we saw no actual live elk, we saw plenty of elk chops on the menus in Wyoming (ironic for a species that has a national refuge, no?). Equally as ironic is the arch of elk antlers that are presented in the town square. My dog thought she had died and gone to doggie bone heaven:

The Bunnery's famous Very Berry Pie: a combination of straw, blue and rasp - berries.

Our next destination was Yellowstone National Park to see some wild game. Unfortunately we ended up seeing very little wildlife, so we decided to go eat it instead (sorry, PETA). We spent the night in Big Sky, Montana after we struck out finding a hotel in or near the park.  Exhausted and starving (a recurring theme) our expectations were low, settling for any kind of hot meal our Best Western provided and a decent night's sleep. We hit the unintentional jackpot. The restaurant attached to our hotel, Buck's T-4, is a high end, first rate Montana establishment and our meal there was tops. Chef Todd Christensen is famous for his adventurous take on local wild game. We dove right in and started with the Buck's Sampler: house cured duck bacon, smoked trout and Montana elk carpaccio, turmeric aioli, flathead cherry compote, huckleberry grain mustard and to be spread, dipped, and covered on a crisp baguette. I tend to get shy when faced with really gamey meat, but the flavors were smooth and fresh, never overpowering. Next we cleansed our palates with a crisp heirloom tomato salad, which was served in a golden balsamic with shaved fennel, crispy basil and flakes of sea salt. After perusing their list of entrees, which sounded like a guide to the petting zoo (camp fire elk, new Zealand red deer, pheasant, bison tenderloin, walleye), we settled on their famous red deer tenderloin and the king river salmon. Much to Bambi's detriment, the red deer stole the show. Pan seared and served in a port wine butter sauce (a lovely combination of two of my most favorite things), it came over a pile of reggiano and truffle risotto and a few spears of asparagus, just to make you breath easier. Needless to say I slept soundly that evening and Buck's T-4 will see me again. That, I promise.

I thought this was so artistic, but in retrospect, fairly lame: Old Faithful Ale with Old Faithful steaming in the background:

Mr Bison, you sure are ugly, but I sure do like your meat.

Our next destination was to visit a friend and her boyfriend in Park City, Utah where unfortunately we only spent one night. Park City in the summer is perfection. Sunny days with a constant, yet gentle cool mountain breeze. Evenings mild enough and virtually insect-free to leave open screen-less windows and doors. I haven't slept so well in months. That could also be in part due to the whiskey tasting our friends gave us at their kitchen table the night before. Maybe.

The next day we set off after a leisurely breakfast in town and headed into the heat of the Nevada desert. There is not much to report about Nevada, save Reno and Vegas. I did have my first taste of Taco Time, a Taco Bell competitor out West. My official review of both the chain and the state is 'eh'. I couldn't wait to get out of Nevada.

So finally, after 3200 miles of road (we made a few detours), we entered our new home state of California. Though we were antsy to get to San Francisco, we had been on the road for 12hrs, so we decided to spend a night in Lake Tahoe. Our evening consisted of takeout Italian served out of Styrofoam containers and eaten with our hands as they forgot to include cutlery - and red wine from our hotel mugs. But with our feet firmly planted in the California sand and beautiful views of palatial Lake Tahoe, we felt deep gratitude and a sleepy sense of excitement that we had finally made it.

A special thanks to our Driver, Nike. Surprisingly well-behaved and constantly on high alert for wildlife, she made sure her driving companions were as awake as she, with her consistent canine flatulence. A most effective method.

Sincerely,
The Heat SF

Saying Farewell to NYC with Flowers in My Hair

Well this is it - my final post from New York City - the concrete jungle where dreams are made, oh, there's nothing you can't do, when you're in New York. (Be forewarned, I have loaded this post with lyrics. I can't help myself). I have procrastinated about writing this post for weeks. Writing a post about what I'll miss most about NYC is one of the more daunting tasks I have faced. How do I start? Where do I end? Do I include peoples, places, AND things? What about sounds, smells, or overall feelings? Do I list my tried and true favorites or new and recent discoveries? Should I include New York institutions that appear in most travel guides? And who, besides the paid editors of NYmag, has the time?! This post has been haunting me to the point of numbness and nonaction. I have started it, stopped it, deleted and saved, brainstormed and baffled. So I decided that it would be more accurate and sane to postpone my 'what I'll miss most about New York' post until I actually leave it. Until I actually miss it (sniff, sniff). So when I'm so homesick I can't sleep, I'll find comfort in writing about the city that never sleeps either.

My bags are packed, I'm a-ready to go - except unfortunately I am not leaving on a jetplane - I'm leaving in a gently used Honda CRV - queue laughter - and I actually do know when I'll be back - October - for a wedding. So I won't make this more dramatic than it has to be, but start spreading the neeews, I'm leaving todaaaaay. (I can't stop). The hotrod is packed with all the necessary accouterments: maps, hiking boots, guide books, gossip magazines, box of wine, book on tape, ipod and one highstrung pitbull - now you understand the boxed wine.

Our first stop is Powell, Ohio to visit family, which is 10hrs from NYC, through the glorious state of Pennsylvania. After Ohio, our itinerary is (loosely) the following: Kansas City, Denver, Yellowstone, Jackson Hole, Sun Valley Idaho, Crator Lake Oregon, and finally, my new home: San Francisco! I have never been to any of these places - including San Francisco, though Scott McKenzie says I'll meet some gentle people there. He also suggested I wear flowers in my hair, which will be an improvement as I accidentally packed my hairbrush AND hairdryer in the moving van. It actually feels liberating having most of your possessions stored elsewhere - living out of a car and a suitcase. Just me and the road. Yea, we'll see how poetic that sounds about two weeks from now.

The hardest part about this move is unarguably leaving my friends and family behind. My parents remedied that by throwing a fabulous going away party this past Saturday. Nothing like good grub and a lobster pot of mango margaritas to dry up your tears! (Too many margaritas has the opposite effect, which we discovered thanks to a particular attendee - xoxo). The theme was backyard bbq and the menu was fresh and fantastic: pulled bbq pork sandwiches with grainy mustard coleslaw, brined, rubbed then barbecued chicken, black bean and corn salad, mock 'Rice-a-Roni' salad (orzo instead of that abominable stuff), arugula-watermelon and feta salad with fresh mint and a shallot vinaigrette and a multitude of delicious desserts: fresh fruit salad, banana chocolate chip bread, cherry cheesecake and even more margaritas. The mango margaritas were homemade and stored in our lobster pot for easy pouring. Fresca soda added a touch of carbonation and mango nectar eliminated the need for any additional sugar.

Corey's Mango Madness: (technically serves four, but not in my house)

• 4 ounces silver tequila (we used Milagro Tequila)
• 2 ounces triple sec (we used Pride & Clarke)
• 1 can Fresca or grapefruit soda (orange soda or seltzer can also work)
• 1.5 cups Mango Nectar or 1 1/4lb fresh mango pureed (fresh mango works better for frozen ritas)
• Lime wedges
• Ice

1. Combine tequila, triple sec, and mango nectar in a large pitcher and stir to mix. Refrigerate if not using immediately.
2. Add soda to the mix right before the party starts.
3. Serve over ice and garnish with lime wedges.
4. Have a designated driver - these puppies are potent!

'If I can make it here I'll make it anywhere!' - thanks for the vote of confidence, Frank.
- The Heat

P.S. I already have my welcome back song keyed up. And don't worry, my family is leaving nothing to chance:

Love and Lobster

This past weekend I attended a wedding in the Bush-friendly, resort town of Kennebunkport, Maine. From the start it had all the signs of a great wedding: beautiful weather, picturesque seaside setting, great friends, and boatloads of crustaceans. Based on my current state - complete exhaustion, a sore scalp from bobby pin torture, and freshly scraped knee - the weekend was a great success. Before you all start making assumptions of debauchery, I'll have you know that I scraped my knee pre-cocktails, thanks to a graceful digger off the top step of our trolley. Luckily our photographer came prepared for such occasions with an ample supply of tissues and a flask of Jim Beam. Can't take me anywhere.
 

The highlight of the weekend, besides the beautiful display of true love and vows of holy matrimony, was, of course, the food. Lobster to be exact. Lobster salad, lobster rolls, lobster bisque, lobster quiche, lobster pot pies and of course, steamed whole lobster.  I was one bite away from having to use the Jaws of Life to get out of my bridesmaid's dress - and it was totally worth it. I'm a little embarrassed to admit my favorite dish of the weekend. I'd feel better about myself had it been the steamed lobster in all it's delicious simplicity. Instead I choose arguably the most complex, diluted and undoubtedly gluttonous version: the Lobster Pot Pie. Imagine taking something as rich as lobster meat, adding butter and cream and then topping it off with a freshly baked biscuit. A bit much? Maybe. But not for me. It was the first thing I'd eaten all day and I still had blood pouring down my shin. Perhaps context is everything, but suffice it to say I was a very happy girl. Never one to be shy, I shoved the biscuit rather crudely down into my soup - and voila! - a giant, lobster soaked crouton. My knee stopped hurting immediately.

That's not to say there were any real losers this weekend. I generally enjoyed every single bite of lobster I had, whatever the form. But I wasn't the only critic in town. The Travel Channel was in Kennebunkport filming their hit show: Food Wars. The contenders were the dueling lobster rolls from The Clam Shack and Alison's. The show's official winner won't be announced until later in the season, but for those sitting at the edge of their seat, our wedding party did it's own extensive research and crowned The Clam Shack as favorite, finding Alison's too mayo-y for our liking.

Back home in NY, we have a similar food war going on. Where can one buy the best lobster roll? Pearl Oyster Bar? Mary's Fish Camp? Luke's? Ed's? Montauk is battling it out too: should I go to Duryea's or Lunch? And though I too have my favorites (Mary's and Duryeas's - no contest), lobster is meant to be loved, not judged and I will have a big, fat smile on my face wherever I am.

 

Speaking of love and lobster, my fellow bridesmaid and long time friend has a tradition of preparing this Lobster Cobb Salad with her boyfriend every Valentines Day (salad for dinner, how L.A. of you two). He kills the crustaceans, she chops the veggies. Ain't that cute. Since I am moving to Cali in a mere 15 days, I figure it's time to lay off the pot pie's and embrace my new culture. When in Rome:

Lobster Cobb Salad: (Serves 4-6)
For the Vinaigrette:

• 1.5T Dijon mustard
• 1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (apprx 2 lemons)
• 5T good olive oil
• 3/4t kosher salt
• 1/2t freshly ground black pepper

For the Salad

• 2 ripe Hass avocados
• Juice of 1 lemon
• 1.5lbs cooked lobster meat, cut in 3/4" dice
• 1.5t kosher salt
• 1/2t freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2lb lean bacon, fried and crumbled
• 3/4 cup crumbled English Stilton, or other crumbly blue cheese
• 1 bunch arugula, washed and spun dry

1. For the vinaigrette, whisk together the mustard, lemon juice, olive oil, salt and pepper in a small bowl.
2. For the salad, cut avocados in half, remove the seed, and peel. Dice into 3/4 inch pieces and toss with lemon juice. 
3. If the arugula leaves are large, tear into smaller pieces.
4. Put the lobster and tomatoes in a bowl. Sprinkle with a little salt and pepper and toss with enough vinaigrette to moisten. 
5. Add the diced avocado, crumbled bacon, blue cheese and arugula and toss again. Serve at room temperature.

 
Post bobby pins and startin' to feel the knee again...

I think I'm going to need more lobster,
- The Heat

Time to Chill Out

The past 30 days has been a month of change. I have a new job, no apartment and have decided to move to a new coast. Let me explain...

I am going to try my luck in San Francisco (ding ding!) - I leave in 30 days. I can hardly believe it. No really - I can't even imagine it seeing how I have never even been to San Francisco.  I have pulled my ripcord and will be cascading into the unknown this summer. To be honest, I am one big ball of emotions - excited, anxious, sad - but I am ready to embrace them all. And I will have plenty of time to mull over my feelings on my drive cross country. I say drive, but what I really mean is EAT. The plan is to eat my way cross country. I want to experience what this country has to offer...my stomach. I will report my findings for you all right here - and on Twitter. Please stay tuned.

Unfortunately this change in destination has required me to relinquish my beloved West Village cubby hole. Charmingly cute, perfectly located and more importantly, MINE - I will miss my apartment more than I care to admit. As the site of my first experience living alone, I fear I will have a lingering nostalgia for all 300sq feet. Yes, there are things I may not miss - the hoards of mice and their lovely droppings, my cold-as-ice British neighbor who's inability to say 'hello' never ceased to amaze me, and the dog-sized rats I stepped over whilst disposing garbage. And while I look forward to a time and place when I can keep a plant alive (henceforth my move to the Golden City), I am saddened to leave that dark, mouse infested closet. However, in an effort to keep this less than four pages, I will save the 'what i'll miss list' for another post.

So here I am, homeless, living out of a suitcase, worked to the bone by day, planning a move cross country by night. And now (hopefully) you understand the title of this post.
 

Through the madness, eating, and unfortunately not exercise, has been my stress relief (thank goodness this all coincides with bikini season!) Lunch is not just a time to refuel the tank - it's ten minutes of silence and bliss. So you see, I must make a good choice, and it's one I ponder over for much of my morning. Thank goodness NYMAG came out with it's list of the top 101 sandwiches in NYC - making my lunchtime decision that much easier. If I actually DO succeed in eating all of these sandwiches in the next 30 days, it might be time to break out my dear, old friend Mr. Tankini. God help us.

The Heat's Must Munch List:

• Red Hook Lobster Pound: Connecticut Lobster Roll - say goodbye to mayo and hello to double popped collars.
• Fatty Crab's Tea Sandwiches - I'll admit, it IS pretty nice when someone cuts your crusts off. Though Mom never served pork belly.
• Prune: Bacon and Marmalade on Pumpernickle - wins my to-be-replicated-at-home award, where I can avoid judgemental stares.
• Russ & Daughters: Super Heebster - to relive my days at UPenn
• Sullivan Street Bakery: PMB - pancetta, mango, basil. One question: WHAT TOOK US SO LONG?!
• Blue Ribbon Bakery Market: Egg Toast - sounds all innocent and cute - and then in walks the pickled peppers.
• Le Bernadin: Smoked Salmon and Caviar Croque Monsiuer - what? This is a dream list.
• Resto: Tete de Cochon Sandwich - a condiment competition - pickles, curry braise, aioli - the way I eat when no one's looking.
• Terroir Tribeca: Meatball Sandwich - because they didn't mess with a good thing.
• Vanessa's Dumplings: Sesame Pancake with Beef - wrapping meat in pancakes has been around long before Vanessa's (I made a mean sausage sammy at Ihop) but Vanessa's does me proud.
• Sunny and Annie Deli: the 'PHO Real' - do you really need another reason to order it?
• Barros Luco: Chacarero Competo - thinly sliced beef, mild melted cheese, avocado, tomato, mayo, chiles, and stringbeans? I love the replacement of drab lettuce with veggies that crunch.
• Patacon Pisao #2: Llanero Patacon - have fun with your food and convince a carb-a-phob that fried plantains are better than bread.
• Sukhadia's: Bombay Pav Vada - 'deep-fried-potato-and-chickpea croquette, painted with chutneys and smushed inside your choice of a burger bun or what looks like a KFC dinner roll'. The closest I'll ever come to the chain. 
• The Smile: Harissa Honey Smoked Chicken - 'with a ensemble cast of sweet roasted peppers, melted manchego, and preserved-lemon mayo'. I'm in for anything with preserved Meyer lemons.
• No.7 Sub: Eggplant Parm - 'deep-fried, true, but the sauce is puréed squash and the cheese is Fontina. And, of course, tucked-inside, potato chips'. Who doesn't love a good potato chip sammy?
• Caselulla Wine and Cheese Bar: Pig's Ass Sandwich - just because I'll giggle when I order it.
• Tulcingo del Valle: Cemita Al Pastor - 'commingling of seasoned pork, pineapple, chipotles, avocado, Oaxaca cheese, and refried beans that makes this one so delicious'. A step up from my beans-on-toast routine.

And when I need to ease myself off all the bread, I'll puree it and add it to this soup:

Gazpacho Soup:
(from a class I assisted at called Portuguese Food and Wine at The Astor Center)

• 1/2 pound rustic bread, stale or lightly toasted
• 6 tablespoons (divided) extra-virgin olive oil
• 3 garlic cloves, passed through a garlic press
• 1 1/2 pound (divided) ripe tomatoes, peeled and seeded
• 1 cup vegetable broth
• 1 small green pepper, diced small
• 1 teaspoon chopped fresh oregano
• salt
• red wine vinegar

1. Cut off the crust from the bread and break up into large crumbs (a little like poultry stuffing). Divide in half. Toss half the crumbs with about 2 tablespoons olive oil and toast in a 350°F oven until lightly toasted. Set aside.
2. Combine half the tomatoes, the garlic and vegetable broth in a blender.
3. Gradually add the bread that has not been toasted until the soup is moderately thick.
4. With the blender running add the remaining olive oil, oregano and salt and vinegar to taste. Depending on the tomatoes you may need to add more or less of the vinegar. Start with a tablespoon. If the tomatoes aren’t very good a pinch of sugar may be needed as well.
5. Dice the remaining tomatoes and stir into the soup along with the peppers. The soup may be made ahead to this point.
6. Just before serving, stir in the toasted crumbs. Serve at room temperature

"The coldest summer I ever spent, was a summer in San Francisco."

Mark Twain a la, The Heat

I, Robot

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity - so crazy I got whiplash from it - literally. Between weddings, showers, birthdays, graduations and holidays, my body finally called it quits and forced me into the horizontal. I threw out my neck, an old soccer injury that likes to revisit me, and was forced to the floor for days. Ice, heat, three massages, two rounds of acupuncture, a decompression brace and a medicine cabinet's worth of (prescribed) pills later and I was boarding a train to Philadelphia for a friends' wedding - super cool neck brace and all. Luckily I was able to remove the brace for the actual wedding - mauve foam is so 2009 - and made it through the weekend thanks to a handful of meds and an even bigger handful of friends.

Now that it's Monday and the neck brace is back on, it's time to hide behind my computer and reflect. I'll work backwards: The wedding was held at The Trust Venue in Old City, Philadelphia. Originally a bank and now an art gallery, most of you will recognize the building as the Real World Philadelphia house from 2004. For the real fans out there, I thought you'd like to know that they actually kept that unisex bathroom in tact - and it's still pretty awesome. As was the food, which was catered by Steven Starr, owner of some of Philly's best and most famous restaurants. We had our choice of food from Buddakan, a trail blazer in Asian Fusion, or Barclay Prime, home of the $100 cheese steak. Naturally I took a picture of the menu, all of which I consumed.

After three hours on the dance floor doing my own awkward version of 'the robot', appetites were satiated thanks to arguably the BEST goody-bag-stand-in to date: soft Philadelphian pretzels and bottles of water to go! I left the candy for the kids.

And a night in Philadelphia isn't complete without a late night trip to Pat's and Gino's (I am a Pat's girl, but Gino's is more fun to take pictures with):

Ah, the wonders of Cheese Whiz:

In juxtaposition to this weekend of debauchery, Mother's Day Weekend was beautiful and calm. I spent it walking, talking and eating with the Woman of Honor and her suitor (Dad). Our menu was simple and fresh: marinated flank steak, grilled then thinly sliced, sauteed mushrooms kissed with marsala wine, a mixed green salad with a homemade Dijon dressing, and baked sweet potatoes which were given a quick char on the grill - simply delicious. Gifts included a Spring bouquet of light pink peonies and an even bigger picture of myself to grace her walls (what?!) The picture was in jest - I was given a poster-sized photograph of myself from a photographer I worked with - and the only person on Earth who could possibly want that is a Mother. Even so, I expect it'll be stored away with all the other non-wall-worthy pictures (Aka, every picture taken between the ages of 11-14. Damn you bangs!)

One gift that did make the cut was actually given to me by my Mother: a recipe box filled with old recipes from my Great Aunt Doris. While I never met my Great Aunt, I feel some kinship having read something as intimate as her recipe box. Hand written notes, magazine clippings, doodles, name's and sketches gave me a small glimpse into her life - and my history. I've always been interested in the historical context that certain ingredients, methods and recipes suggest. For me, the history of a dish goes far beyond the taste and texture.

For most families, food is a source of tradition and familiarity - you can find the same dishes gracing dinner tables from decades past. And many of my childhood memories are linked to my taste buds. Pats of liverwurst from my Grandmother's meat drawer. Tea with milk and honey on sick days with my Mom. My Aunt's famous banana nut bread, which I stash in my freezer for a slice of family anytime. Even family members I never knew have a taste bud dedicated to them: my Great Grandmother's 'quick and easy' appetizer - Ritz crackers topped with chili sauce and bacon. Vanilla ice cream topped with fresh raspberries - my Great Grandfather's summertime specialty.

After combing through dozens of recipes (ten cheese ball variations, two dozen casseroles, chex mix, spaghetti pie and countless recipes that included cream of mushroom soup - God love her),   I've pulled out a few recipes from my Great Aunt's collection to add to my own repertoire - and my history:


Great Aunt Doris' Shrimp de Jonghe
(Shrimp de Jonghe is a casserole of shrimp covered in garlicky, sherry-flavored bread crumbs - give it a try!)

• 3/4 cup firm butter
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1t. salt
• 1 cup lukewarm dry sherry
• 1/2 cup finely chopped parsley
• 1 3/2 cups bread crumbs
• 2lbs cooked, cleaned shrimp
• Parmesan cheese, grated

1. Beat butter with an electric mixer until very light, about 5 minutes.
2. Add garlic, salt and sherry, a little at a time.
3. Add chopped parsley and 1 cup of the breadcrumbs, reserving the 1/2 cup leftover for topping.
4. Toss cooked shrimp in 1-2T of melted butter and place in a baking dish.
5. Cover with breadcrumb mixture.
6. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese, top with more bread crumbs, plus some more melted butter.
7. Bake for 25 minutes in a preheated 350 degree oven.

 Unless you'd rather try her Arizona Chicken

• 1 bottle of Wishbone Russian Dressing
• 1 cup apricot jam
• 1 envelope Lipton onion soup mix

Mix and pour over raw chicken pieces and bake at 350 for 1.5hrs. Yes, I'm serious.

Back to my brace,

The Heat

Goodness, Gracious, Great Balls of Mozzarella

I am one step closer to being entirely self sustaining. I bought a make-your-own-beer kit. I learned how to produce my own wine (and sound hip by calling it unfiltered). And now, thanks to a class at Murray's Cheese, I can make my own cheese! Once I learn how to bake bread, I'll consider myself prepared for anything life throws at me. Lock me in a cellar,  drop me off on a deserted island, leave me abandoned in a cabin in the woods - and I will survive! Bread, wine, beer and cheese - my four food groups.

Tuesday night I worked at a Mozzarella Making class at Murray's Cheese. It was a bit like playing with playdough in preschool - except now you're supposed eat what you just played with. I had a thing for Elmer's glue too - I guess you could say I started developing my palate at an early age. As for the cheese making, it was more like cheese molding. We started with cheese curd from Lioni's in New Jersey (New Jersey?!) because it's important for the curd to be fresh, so shipping from Italy is out. The curds were flavorless little lumps that reminded me of firm tofu. We bathed the curds in tepid bath water, stretched them into string cheese, rolled it into a croissant-like shape, and then pushed it through the "OK" sign made with your thumb and index finger, which created a smooth surfaced ball. We dropped the balls in the leftover bath water which we salted generously - and voila! - mozzarella (pronounced 'moo-za-rell' if you're Tony Sixpack from Long Island). I may have said it that way all night.

A young mozzarella maker:

We also did a mozzarella tasting as part of the learning experience. We started off with Lioni's own fresh mozzarella, which was delightfully soft and lightly salted. Mozzarella di Bufala was next, a gamier, sharper version of the prior. I may lose some fans with this admission, but I didn't realize that 'di bufala' actually meant that it was made with buffalo milk. Water buffalo to be exact. Call me ignorant, obtuse or just plain silly - but I never saw water buffalo wandering around the Italian countryside. Well, they do - and do so in a highly irritable, noisy way. They can't regulate their own body temperature, so they wallow in water to stay cool, hence their name. If they get hot, they get cranky and bellow excessively (sort of like me in the subway). They eat a ton, need space to roam and will only produce milk if happy. Huh - I guess I'll have to revise my Christmas list.

Next up was a personal favorite - burrata cheese. Not to point out the obvious, but burrata literally means 'butter' in Italian, which explains my affection for it. Burrata is served as a firm purse of cheese, that when cut into, oozes out dairy gold and stracciatella - wait, what? Basically it's a hallow ball of cheese that's filled with sweet cream and ribbons of fresh curd - Mamma it's good. When packaged it comes with a bright green palm leaf, whose purpose, I learned, is to act as a freshness indicator. If the leaf is brown, the cheese is old - brilliant. As if I need another excuse to eat cheese, our instructor suggested we try it for breakfast, with a touch of honey and freshly cracked pepper. If you're looking for the full experience, try it as an appetizer at Lil Frankie's, where it's served as  a creamier version of a caprese salad, drizzled with balsamic glaze and spicy olive oil. Stracciatella has also become a favorite - spread over a toasted baguette at Frankie's Spuntino with a bottle of their house red - perfection.

We ended our tasting with a smoked mozzarella that was also from Lioni's. Not normally a personal favorite, I was surprised how much I enjoyed theirs. I was told it was due to the smoking of the cheese, with hickory and cherry wood, rather than adding liquid smoke to the curd, a more common practice that adds an unnatural, strong flavor. The smoked mozzarella was complimented with a surprisingly sweet Portuguese tomato jam, a few slices of a delicious wild boar salami and a crisp glass of prosecco.

I still have four balls of mozzarella cheese in my fridge, which I will hopefully stay away from late-night and instead use in this modified version of a caprese salad. Ina Garten roasts her tomatoes before arranging them in the salad - a lovely change to the tried-and-true favorite:

Roasted Tomato Caprese Salad: (Adapted from Ina Garten's recipe)
6 servings

• 12 plum tomatoes, halved lengthwise, seeded
• 1/4 cup good olive oil, plus more for drizzling
• 1 1/2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
• 2 large garlic cloves, minced
• 2 teaspoons sugar
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 16 ounces fresh salted mozzarella
• 12 fresh basil leaves, julienned

1. Preheat the oven to 275 degrees F.
2. Arrange the tomatoes on a sheet pan, cut sides up, in a single layer. 
3. Drizzle with 1/4 cup of olive oil and the balsamic vinegar. 
4. Sprinkle with the garlic, sugar, 1 1/2 teaspoons salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. 
5. Roast for 2 hours until the tomatoes are concentrated and begin to caramelize. Allow the tomatoes to cool to room temperature.
6. Cut the mozzarella into slices slightly less than 1/2-inch thick. If the slices of mozzarella are larger than the tomatoes, cut the mozzarella slices in half. Layer the tomatoes alternately with the mozzarella on a platter and scatter the basil on top. 
7. Sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper and drizzle lightly with olive oil. Serve at room temperature.

His name is Moo Zarell,

- The Heat

Gettin' My Greens On with Chef Louisa Shafia

lu·cid

   [loo-sid] 

–adjective

1.

easily understood; completely intelligible or comprehensible:a lucid explanation.

2.

characterized by clear perception or understanding; rational or sane: a lucid moment in his madness.

3.

shining or bright.

4.

clear; pellucid; transparent.

This week I worked with fellow Penn Alum Louisa Shafia at a class called "Get Your Greens On", which was held at The Brooklyn Kitchen and Meat Hook in Williamsburg. It was a vegetarian class (except for a wee bit of chicken stock used in desperation) that focused on locally grown springtime vegetables and unusual greens. 


I first heard of Louisa Shafia via an alumni news letter. After two careers in unrelated industries, she decided to enroll in the Natural Gourmet Institute here in NYC. With a few years experience working in a handful of health conscious restaurants, both here in NYC and San Francisco, Louisa decided to start her own company called Lucid Food. Starting off as a blog and catering company, Louisa has grown her company to include cooking classes, consulting gigs and most recently, her first cookbook. 

Her recipes are veg-heavy and eco-conscious, but not in a restrictive way. Quite the contrary actually. She's more about adding - greens, legumes, weird little herbs that she found on a bike ride in Prospect Park (true story). And that's the reason I can get jiggy with Louisa's cooking style: she's not here to criticize - more to promote better choices...and I for one can afford to make some more of those.

In Lucid Food, I try to show you how to make earth-friendly food choices by sourcing animal products ethically and responsibly, supporting local food, and reducing your carbon footprint through urban gardening, preserving, composting, and more.

I reached out to Louisa to see if she needed any help with her catering, classes, book signings...and voila!, I found myself donning a chef's coat in an industrial kitchen wielding a multitude of insanely sharp knives. To say I was nervous is a serious understatement. I didn't even know the proper way to put on my apron (and yes, apparently there is a proper way to put on an apron). My first task was to peel and slice potatoes in preparation for our Lamb's Quarters and Pea Shoots Soup (wait, I thought you said it was vegetarian?!) Well, it turns out Lamb's Quarters are a leafy green - news to me as well. Also new to my plate were radish greens (spicy, just like their roots), shepherd's purse (used frequently in Asian recipes), and maitake mushrooms (a grill-able meat substitute). The potatoes went well, no cuts, no missing body parts. And then came the sugar snap peas for our Almond Tofu with Snap Peas and Soba Noodles. I had to delicately slice off the barely visible center string with a machete and NOT cut my finger off. "Red tinge? Oh, that's uh, tomato paste. Last minute addition." Cucumbers and garlic, ginger, mushrooms, radishes - chop, slice, mince! I had sweat on my brow and a rumble in my tummy. I tried not to sneak a snack mid class and risk getting yelled at by a particular over-caffinated hipster in our class. 


Four hours and many a slop bucket later, the class was gone, kitchen cleaned and two lonely jars leftover of Louisa's soon-to-be-famous Rhubarb and Pistachios over Thick Yogurt just waiting for my spoon. I'll enjoy this simple, rustic dessert for breakfast, in lieu of my regular yogurt/berries/granola routine. The rhubarb is slightly sweet with a hint of cardamom, the yogurt tart and the pistachios add the perfect hit of crunch:


Rhubarb and Pistachios over Thick Yogurt (from Lucid Foods)

Serves 4

• 4 stalks rhubarb, ends and leaves trimmed
• 1/2t. cardamom
• 1/4t. ground nutmeg
• pinch of salt
• 1/2 cup light-colored honey
• 1t. vanilla extract
• 1t. rose water
• 2cups Greek-style yogurt
• 1/2 cup shelled pistachios, coarsely chopped

Instructions:

1. Cut the rhubarb into 1-inch pices and put in a small saucepan with 1/4 cup of water. Cover and bring to a boil, then decrease the heat and simmer, stirring occasionally.
2. When the rhubarb starts to soften, about 5minutes, stir in the cardamom, nutmeg and salt.
3. Break up any large pieces of rhubarb with a wooden spoon.
4. Continue to simmer, covered, until the rhubarb is completely softened, about 4 minutes more.
5. Remove from heat and stir in honey and vanilla extract. Let cool. Add the rose water.
6. To serve, put 1/2 cup yogurt in each bowl, top with a few tablespoons of rhubarb. Scatter with a few tablespoons of pistachios over the top.

Besides the dessert, I also scored some sick swag thanks to The Meat Hook - which will be donned next time I visit my brother in the Heights to avoid getting yelled at to 'get back on my island!' 

Manhattanites; the new 'bridge and tunnel' crowd,
- The Heat


Thanks to Louisa and staff at The Brooklyn Kitchen!