Jucy Lucy

Lately I’ve seen several references to the Jucy Lucy popping up in my food magazines. I also recently saw it written on the back of some dude’s softball t-shirt. A Jucy Lucy is a burger that originated in the Twin Cities. My mom would make it for me occasionally. It reminds me of home.

It’s nothing fancy, or even overly creative. But it is overly delicious and indulgent. It is a big burger with cheese that oozes out of the middle when you bite into it. Anything I make for my husband that can be smothered with BBQ sauce, and requires rolls of paper towels for chin clean-up, seems to be a hit.

The choice of cheese is a key step. My English Stepfather, bless his good intentions, once tried to make a Jucy Lucy with good quality, sharp English cheddar. I think it actually disintegrated into the meat somewhere in the grilling process. American cheese is a great choice. While I would pick English Cheddar over American Processed in many cases, this is not one of them. I actually like to use both American and Monterey Jack Cheese, for extra gooey melted goodness.

Recipe for a Jucy Lucy (4):

• Four soft rolls, cut in half, buttered
• 1 lb. ground beef
• 1 egg
• 4 slices of American Cheese
• 4 slices of Monterey Jack Cheese
• Salt/pepper/beef seasonings of choice
• Ketchup/mustard/toppings of choice

Heat the grill, or skillet, or whatever you are using to cook your burgers. Toast the rolls/bun a little on the inside where they have been halved, until golden toasty brown. Mix the ground beef with egg, and whatever seasoning you like. My personal favorite all-purpose seasoning is the Sandwich Sprinkle (aka, crouton seasoning) from Penzeys Spices. It is a blend of salt, pepper, garlic, basil, oregano, rosemary, thyme and marjoram. Divide your meat into fourths. From each fourth, divide in half, leaving one half bigger than the other. Press out the bigger half into a large thin patty, and place one slice of each cheese in the middle. The meat should extend beyond the cheese. Press out the smaller half into a thin patty and place on top of the cheese. Take the extra meat along the edge of the bottom half, and curl it up around the cheese, pressing it into the top half, and totally encasing the cheese. Repeat for the other burgers. Cook to desired doneness. Dress to your liking. Eat with caution – the cheese will be superhot. Don’t forget the paper towels.

Who am I? Who are you? What are we Eating?

This morning I dreamed several abstract scenarios, all of which involved me deliberately wasting my life. I didn’t need my dreams to tell me that. I wasted a gorgeous morning simply by lingering in bed. My list of morning activities, stacked neatly in my mind from the night before, are all left undone. I have nothing but regret and contempt for my lack of will.

Yesterday it hit 80 degrees for the first time this season, and the sundresses and short-shorts were out in droves. I’m certain that not a single person was indoors, if they could help it. I often describe living in New York as constantly exiting a sold out concert. You’re not going anywhere as fast as you’d like, so deal with it. And try not to punch someone.

So last night it was ridiculous for us to think that we would be able to have a lovely stroll around the charming West Village, and with no reservations, find a good restaurant with an outdoor table waiting for us. Could be Midwestern naïveté, or pure stupidity. I think we thought we’d just get lucky. The more we walked, the more tired and hungry we became, and the less patience we had for long waits. As we pressed on, the sheer volume of people in the area continued to grow, and our chances were looking slim.

We found ourselves eventually in an area somewhere between The Village and SoHo that was mysterious and unfamiliar. The crowd had gradually thinned out, cute sidewalk cafes gave way to warehouses, and soon we found ourselves completely alone and exhausted. We eventually made our way back to civilization, but being alone on the street for that moment was kind of nice. I found my thoughts quieted for once. I am acutely aware of my own insignificance; I constantly wonder what my place is in the world. Why am I here, what is my purpose, what the hell should I be doing with my life, and all those existential questions that inevitably arise in our subconscious. I find those thoughts haunt me now more than ever, surrounded by the New York mob of people traveling through life together.

Our Saturday evening did not have a happy ending, I’m sad to say. And this morning I hid in bed. But I have been given an opportunity for redemption – today is another beautiful day. I still have time for some of those activities I wanted to do, and I have time to plan dinner tonight. I control my destiny.

Sight, Swirl, Sniff, Sip, Swish, Swallow. Savor.

Last night I went to my second-ever wine tasting event, and it was the most fun I’ve had on a Tuesday night.

My first-ever wine tasting event, about 2 years ago, was lovely. I was served really good food, and really great wines, but I didn’t learn a thing. Actually, that’s not true – I learned that I love steamed calamari salad.

Confession: I don’t know a thing about wine, other than the fact that I like it. Nay, love it. But picking out wine always makes me uncomfortable. At restaurants, I tend to look at the wines available by the glass, decide if I want white or red, and try the one that is priced somewhere in the middle. In liquor stores, I just try to act invisible.

There’s a delightful little wine shop in my neighborhood called Best Cellars that I frequent. This place is totally unpretentious. They know everything, and are helpful but not snooty. All the bottles they carry are 15 bucks or less, and they don’t have a million to choose from, only their favorites. Best of all, they are laid out by category: fizzy, fresh, juicy, smooth, etc. Each bottle has a snappy little description.

So when they asked me if I wanted to sign up for their Tasty Tuesday tasting, titled April in Paris, for 10 bucks, I said, “Oui, sil vou plait!” Actually, that’s not true – I just nodded my head. I have no business butchering beautiful languages with my awkwardness.

I assumed we would just have some sips of a few French wines, mingle with strangers, and be gently pressured to buy a few bottles. I almost skipped it to watch American Idol. When we arrived, we were welcomed with a wine glass and a menu of what we were trying. Each wine was broken into three lines, the name of the wine, the names of the grapes and year, and the region from which the wine hails:

Chateau du Plessis Muscadet
Melon de Bourgogne 2007
Loire Valley, France

Jaillance Cremant de Bourgogne
Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, Aligote, Gamay NV
Burgundy, France

Domaine de l’Arfentiere “Les Maranches”
Chardonnay 2007
Macon-Uchizy, Burgundy, France

Domaine de Houchart Rose
Grenache, Syrah, Cinsault, Cabernet Sauvignon, Mourvedre 2008
Cotes de Provence, France

Chateau Vieux Chevrol
Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon 2005
Lalande-de-Pomerol, Bordeaux, France

Domaine Montmartel
Grenache, Syrah, Carignan 2006
Cotes-du-Rhone, France

If you’re still reading this after I just dropped all those French words on you, I am really impressed. Wine makes me so uncomfortable, that I skip any pages in my Gourmet and Bon Appetit about wine. I have subscriptions to about every food magazine except Food & Wine. Why? Too many articles by people who know wine. It might as well just be in Chinese.

The point is, I really learned a lot last night. I drank a lot. Oh, and there was food. I ate a lot. We went over the six “S” steps of wine tasting: sight, swirl, sniff, sip, swish and swallow (or spit).

Sight. Each glass we examined in the light, against a white background, to look for color, clarity, and carbonation. I had no idea this step could tell you so much about a wine. We drank two whites, one darker than the other. They told us that the darker might have been older, but since they were both 2007 grapes, it was likely aged in oak. If your white is cloudy, that could indicate it has gone bad. If there are lots of bubbles, you don’t want to swirl the wine.

Swirl. Swirling the wine increases the surface area exposed to oxygen. Oxygen causes a chemical reaction that allows the flavors and scents to open up. Next time you have a glass of wine, sniff it with out swirling. Then swirl and sniff. I noticed a huge difference. I used to operate under the perception that you only swirl red wine, not white. I have no idea where that came from, but it’s not true. The only wine you don’t swirl is sparkling.

Sniff. I still can’t distinguish the subtle nuances of oak, spice, fruity, and floral. But I’m working on it. My nose isn’t known to be very reliable. An epicurean handicap.

Sip. My favorite step.

Swish. Let the wine roll over every taste bud, or you might miss something.

Swallow. Spit if you’re trying a lot of wines. Or have to drive home.

Some other great tidbits I took away from last night:

Sparkling wines pair really well with greasy, salty food.

You can drink white wine with red meat; it should just be a heavier white wine. The “Les Maranches” Chardonnay (the deeper in color of the whites) was heavenly with the pate we ate, and it would have also gone well with Beef Bourguignon or some stinky cheese, like Epoisses (my favorite!).

Generally, wine from a region will pair well with food from that same region.

Cotes de Provence in France is known for their Roses. Roses tend to go with everything.

2005 was a good year for Bordeaux, because it was hot and dry. Cheap Bordeaux wines are generally not good. The one we tried was one of the few “expensive” wines they carry, at $28. And yeah, it was good. We bought a bottle.

Last, but not least, when you swirl wine, look for tears that run back down the side. Those tears indicate high alcohol content. So you know what you’re getting yourself into from that first swirl!

Simply Spring

Spring has officially sprung in New York. Hallelujah! Yesterday the sun was shining, and the air was finally warm enough to ditch my coat. Of course, I work on Saturdays. The fact that I was recently laid off was no exception. Sigh.

On Friday night I ate post-Easter jelly beans for dinner, and I woke up feeling dirty. I forced myself into work, and tried not to daydream about the farmers markets. By 4pm I was a goner - my mind had long since wandered off without me, into the world of culinary possibilities that come with the new season. I envisioned myself spending the evening in my garden, a pug curled by each foot, catching up on Gourmet and sipping some crisp white wine. The only hole in my perfect fantasy was the food.

It is the right time of year for asparagus, artichoke, and morels, and I could not get those off my mind. Especially asparagus since I happened to have a gorgeous bunch in my fridge that had tried to seduce me earlier that morning. I thought, "What if I can find morels on my way home? Then I could make something with both morels and asparagus." I knew it was a long shot, so I tried not to let myself get too excited about that scenario. But even the possibility, all the wonderful possibilities that come with spring, got me feeling giddy. I ached for something fresh, simple, delicious. Maybe even indulgent. I felt I deserved it.

I'll cut to the chase - no fresh morels to be found between West 80th and 89th (aka, my convenient walk home, leading me to believe a visit down to Chelsea Market on West 16th is in my near future). I almost went with my back-up plan of a leek and asparagus frittata, when I had another idea. I maneuvered myself and shopping basket through the crowd at Zabars to the frozen - yes, frozen - section, and my hunch was right. They had Dufour puff pastry. Why is this exciting? Dufour is the best puff pastry you can buy. Unlike nearly all other brands, it is not made with any oils or crazy ingredients you can't pronounce, it is simply butter and flour, with a little water, salt and lemon juice. And it smells like what I hope heaven smells like: buttery goodness.

I left with the Dufour, some goat cheese, and prosciutto. Oh, and I almost forgot, a bottle of wine. Twin Vines Vinho Verde, via Northern Portugal. So good. Eight bucks. I trotted home – yes, trotted - as fast as I could, put the wine in the fridge and began caramelizing some onions (this morning my neighbor asked what smelled so good last night, the answer is onions on the stove for about 30 minutes). The end result was asparagus, goat cheese, prosciutto and caramelized onion wrapped in puff pastry like a calzone. I’m not sure what to call it, but dammit it needs a good name, because it was the perfect inaugural meal for our new patio furniture.

Recipe for Puff with Asparagus, Goat Cheese, Prosciutto and Caramelized Onion (for 2):

• 5 fresh asparagus stalks, outer layer peeled off and sliced to 1” bits
• 1 yellow onion, cut into strips
• 2 pieces of prosciutto
• About 2 tbsp crumbled goat cheese, a little more if you like extra cheese
• Dufour frozen puff pastry
• A little olive oil or butter (aka, the fat)

The puff pastry will need to thaw out. Thaw in the fridge a few hours beforehand, or if you’re like me, it never even makes it off your counter from when you unpacked your groceries. Heat the oven to 400 degrees. In a large skillet over medium-low flame, heat the fat and add the onions. Stir occasionally until well caramelized. Transfer to a plate. Add a little more fat and cook the asparagus for about 3-4 minutes. Transfer to the plate to hang out with the onions. The puff pastry, when unpacked, will be folded in fourths. If you are only making for two, then take half of the puff pastry out, and put the other half back in the freezer. Divide what you have in half, so there are two rectangles. Roll them out with a rolling pin a little bit, this will help to tame the puff. Scatter the onion and asparagus in each rectangle, and cover with a few bits of torn prosciutto and crumbled cheese. Fold the pastry over and pinch the edges together a little. Place on a non-stick baking sheet and bake for 15 minutes until golden brown.

Seriously?

Not one of you likes ballpark food? Really? I prefer the nachos.

Feaster

Holidays are the best. Not only do you get to celebrate something meaningful, you get to eat great meals with people you care about. And eating great meals is always cause for a celebration in itself, in my opinion.

I made lamb for Easter. For some reason I can't explain, lamb intimidates the hell out of me. Which is ridiculous because it's so easy. Maybe it's the pressure of holiday cooking that is the true intimidator. Oh well; who cares? It was good, which is all that matters.

First, I found some good-looking rib chops. Asparagus is fat and gorgeous right now, so I went with that, too. I recently made some chicken stock, so I decided to make risotto with roasted asparagus and Brie cheese (the Brie was not a good idea, by the way. The flavor got lost in the risotto. I think I'll stick with Parmegiano. The asparagus was great). I rubbed the rib chops with olive oil, garlic, salt, pepper and tarragon (I decided rosemary would be too predictable), and covered them in the fridge to let them marinate while I made the risotto. Then I heated a skillet, and cooked the lamb over medium heat, about 3 or 4 minutes per side, and served on top of the risotto. It was a filling dish, but I still had plenty of room left over to polish off my big chocolate bunny.

Breakfast & Flower Bed

The apartment above ours was recently rented out. The ad for the apartment boasted, "beautiful garden views."

Um, I guess I better learn how to garden.

Up until yesterday (massive spring cleaning), it was more like, potentially beautiful garden views. And lots of dog poop.

I would love to have a gorgeous little oasis of flowers, herbs, and, if I can keep the caterpillars under control, tomatoes. I went to the Macy's flower show for some inspiration:

I walked down 6th Avenue to the Union Square farmers market and returned home with cilantro, basil, thyme, parsley, dill and a big fern. It's a start.

How to Lose Your Job in Good Taste

What began as one cocktail to take the edge off, became the afternoon of the most exciting dining adventure I have had to date in New York.

Genny, my boss and friend, is a serious foodie, and she has become my New York dining guru. Before she was my boss, she opened and managed some major restaurants. And she's eaten everywhere. I have a wish list of all the places in the city that I would like to try. Not only has she been to every one, she can tell me the best dish on the menu, provided they have it in fresh that night.

So as we sat at the Upper East Side Marriott for a company-wide meeting earlier this week, we picked and complained about the buffet tomatoes, that had clearly been frozen at some point, and braced ourselves for the inevitable news: we were all getting laid off.

When the announcement was made, the questions answered, and the meeting adjourned, the two of us shot each other a knowing look. Drinks? Yes.

It was pouring rain outside, and decidedly chilly for early April, the perfect weather to accompany such circumstances. We walked around the corner to the warm and welcoming Avra. As soon as we sat down and Genny said, "Belvedere, dirty, extra-dry martini please," and I said, "Uh... me too," I had happily relinquished my afternoon and taste buds. We noshed on the char-grilled octopus, served with red onions in a red-wine vinaigrette, which was amazing. I have had octopus before, but nothing like this. We snacked on the complimentary hummus, served with marinated radishes, crusty bread, and Mediterranean olives. We complained about our employers a little bit. We decided we were having way too much fun to stop.

We took the train down to Chinatown and Soho, two of my favorite places to explore. We were like two little kids trading secret treasures - she showed me her obscure foodie locales, I showed her mine. We sampled all the delicious treats along the way. We ended our journey at the bar in Aquagrill in Soho, an experience that left me speechless. I sipped The Glacier, a martini made with citrus vodka, fresh mint syrup, and served with a small scoop of homemade grapefruit sorbet on top. I snacked on the best (and undoubtedly the freshest) seafood I've ever had. A variety of oysters, clams, followed by peppered tuna carpaccio - each bite was exciting. I also tried mysterious periwinkles for the first time. A periwinkle is an earthy-tasting sea snail that, once you maneuver its curly flesh out of the shell and dip in aioli, is quite addictive.

Coming back to realty is never easy after spending the day in foodie-fantasy land. But since I'm inevitably joining the ever-growing unemployed, at least I'm going in with a satisfied smile.

Not 'Cho Average Nachos

Sometimes you just need some nachos for dinner. This is another great dish that allows you to use up whatever you have hanging around the kitchen. I like mine with smokey black beans, sweet yellow peppers, tomatoes, Monterey Jack cheese, green onions and a dollop of sour cream. Jack cheese is great because stays soft and melty to the last bite.

Recipe for Not 'Cho Average Nachos:

• Tortilla chips
• Shredded Monterey Jack cheese
• One can of black beans, drained (you'll use about 1/2 can per plate of nachos)
• 1/4 yellow pepper, diced
• 1 small tomato, seeds and juice removed and diced
• 2 green onions, sliced thin
• Sour cream
• Optional extras: guacamole/avocados, salsa, corn, jalapenos, chicken, beef, etc. I like to cook the beans seasoned with minced garlic, hot Tabasco sauce, cumin and kosher salt.

Heat the oven to 425. In a skillet over medium heat, cook the beans with the minced garlic, hot sauce, a pinch of cumin and a pinch of salt. Cook for about 4-5 minutes. Arrange the first layer of chips on an ovenproof plate and prepare the other ingredients while the beans cook. Scatter the beans across the chips, and add desired amount of shredded cheese. Arrange another layer of chips, and top with more cheese. Scatter the tomatoes, peppers and green onions across the top. Stick the plate in the oven for about 5-8 minutes, until the cheese has melted and the edges of the top chips start to brown. Remove from the oven (don't forget the hot pads!) and top with sour cream. Devour.

Use it or Lose it

Whenever I need to make something out of nothing, fried rice is usually the answer. I almost always have rice and some kind of veggie hanging around the kitchen.

A few keys to fried rice: the rice should be cold. Leftover rice from that Chinese takeout you got last week is perfect. You know - you order the meal, you only eat about 1/5 of the rice they give you, then that little cardboard box hides in your fridge until you eventually throw it out. Don't throw it out, make fried rice! Rice = cold, wok = hot. Also, unless you like your rice with scraps of rubbery egg bits, throw the egg on top of the hot rice (rather than cooking it separately) as illustrated in the photo below, and stir directly into the dish. The hot rice will cook the egg, and the dish will have a nice overall taste and texture.

How to make Easy Vegetable Fried Rice:

• Rice (cold)
• Veggies (what 'cha got? Onions/scallions, peas, carrots, mushrooms, broccoli...)
• Oil (I like vegetable)
• Soy Sauce
• Egg

Heat a small amount of oil in your wok over medium-high heat. Cook the veggies until soft. Start with the more dense veggies (like broccoli) as they will take longer to cook. Then add the rice and toss with a generous amount of soy sauce. To get a feel for it, start with a little and keep adding more until the rice has reached your desired color/taste. Once the rice is sizzlin' and the veggies and soy sauce are incorporated, stir in the egg and cook for about a minute more. Yum!

Winter Tomatoes

There's nothing better than fresh summertime tomatoes from the farmers market. I am anxiously awaiting the warm weather for this reason alone. That's not to say that supermarket tomatoes found in the winter and spring should be ignored. There are some yummy ways to utilize the plum (Roma) and grape tomatoes you see on the shelves right now.

Plum or Roma tomatoes are those egg-shaped tomatoes that have few seeds, and make great sauces. Grape tomatoes are those cute little ones that usually appear in salads.

Plum tomatoes: Make a Roasted Tomato Sauce for pasta and pizza.

• 3 lbs of plum tomatoes, halved
• 1 medium onion, halved and sliced into half-rings
• 2 carrots, sliced into rounds
• 5 cloves of garlic (peeled, but left whole)
• 1/2 tsp of dried thyme, or 1 tsp of fresh thyme
• 2 tbsp of olive oil
• Kosher salt and ground pepper to taste

Heat the oven to 425. On a jelly roll sheet or large roasting pan, place the tomatoes, onion, carrots, garlic and thyme. Pour the olive oil across the ingredients and toss to coat. Season with salt and pepper. Spread out the veggies on the pan in a single layer, and make sure all the tomatoes are cut-side down. Roast for about 45 minutes - 1 hour, until veggies are tender and the tomato skin is starting to puff and blacken. Remove from the oven, and use a set of tongs to pull off the steamy tomato skins. You can just discard the skin. Transfer everything from the pan to a blender, with the little hole left open in the lid for steam to escape. Cover the hole with a tea towel and pulse until smooth, but still a little chunky. Add about a tbsp of balsamic vinegar for flavor if you want it, and season to taste with salt and pepper. Store extra sauce in the fridge or freezer.

Grape tomatoes: A Tomato Confit make for a yummy side or a topping for meat and fish.

• One pint of grape tomatoes
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 2 tsp sugar
• Kosher salt and crushed pepper to taste

Toss all the ingredients in a large skillet, cover, and place over medium-low heat. Cook for about 10-15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the tomatoes have softened and the skin has come loose. Mash a little bit with the tip of a spoon, and continue to cook for about 5 more minutes, uncovered, until the tomatoes have the consistency of chutney.

O Fortuna

"You will travel far and wide, both pleasure and business. Daily numbers: 3 2 9."

I have a lost memory from my childhood that only remains connected to my brain by a fading scent. In my mind I see nothing but a brick wall, and what lies on the other side I only imagine. I taste nothing, feel nothing, hear nothing. But I smell fresh fortune cookies being baked en masse. The smell was so delicious and powerful, and, at that time in my young life, so new, that it has followed me to present day as a small memory of one of the best smells in my tiny universe.

As a result, I love fortune cookies. I always sneak a few extra if given the opportunity, especially the good kind - the ones that don't taste and look like plastic. The golden brown ones. Not the yellow ones.

"You are heading for a land of sunshine. Daily numbers: 7 3 0."

On a sunny New York Monday afternoon (yesterday), I decided to explore Manhattan's Chinatown. As fate would have it, on my quest to find fresh fortune cookies, I found new and interesting things that my palate might otherwise have missed.

Chinatown is not an escapist adventure to the Far East. You know you're still in New York by the 10-for-$3 "I heart NY" t-shirts and the hordes of tourists in search of $25 Louis Vuitton bags. I immediately veered off Canal Street and headed South on Mulberry for respite. I ducked into Lung Moon Bakery (83 Mulberry) and crossed my fingers... nope, no fresh fortune cookie smell here. They sold them by the bag, but upon close inspection, I noticed that they were made off-site and individually pre-wrapped. Not quite what I was looking for. When I snapped out of my obsessed and focused daze, I realized I was alone in the store. Fortune cookies aside, everything around me looked fresh, good, and pleasantly oversized. I wanted one of each. When I noticed the sticky rice balls, I swallowed hard, a little frightened. My previous experience with a Chinatown sticky rice ball last November was a heartbreaking letdown that needed redemption. A young woman emerged from the back of the shop. I took a deep breath, ordered one sticky rice ball and left the store, hoping that I wouldn't regret my decision. I didn't - it was the perfect texture. Yum!

I thought about turning around and going back to fill up on all the goodies they had to offer, but upon the discovery of this wonderful place, I decided to revise my mission: snack through Chinatown, and if I happen to come across fortune, that will be up to fate to decide.

"Find release from your cares, have a good time. Daily numbers: 4 2 9."

So I let myself go. On Mott Street I discovered tasty Wonton Noodle Soup at the New Wonton Garden (56 Mott). Attracted by the kitchen at the front of the house that allowed me to watch the noodles go in and out of the pot, and by the ironically somber servers in Hawaiian shirts, the stark, hospital cafeteria-like interior was a welcome contrast to the vibrant visual stimulants of the streets. The barbie-pink bubble tea place on Bayard Street (with the big, cartoon-y vending machines, dispensing everything from Hello Kitty accessories to mini Jelly Belly dispensers) and the fish-balls-on-a-stick from the street vendors (all the Chinatown kids snack on fish balls, like, duh!) made me feel 8 years old again. The guava candy, found all over Chinatown in shiny green plastic, is my new guilty pleasure. At 25 cents for four pieces, I felt like I still had plenty of allowance and lemonade stand money left over for more peach bubble tea and a Hello Kitty necklace (but I'm saving up for the Snoopy chopsticks at Yunwong's Chopsticks on Mott Street).

My favorite snack of the day came unexpectedly while perusing the tiny (and eerily quiet, by Chinatown standards) storefronts on Elizabeth Street, North of Canal. A place called Malaysian Beef Jerky (95 Elizabeth) where you can get slabs of spicy pork jerky, pork jerky, spicy chicken jerky, chicken jerky, spicy beef jerky, and beef jerky by the pound, was the highlight of my journey. That place makes Slim Jim look like a punk.

"Stop searching forever, happiness is just next to you. Daily numbers: 3 7 0."

As the afternoon sun faded, I walked down Mott Street again. The weird thing about city streets is that you can walk one way, but switch directions or cross to the other side and you have a whole new perspective. It's as though you can't really see a whole city until you've seen it from every angle. In my earlier walk on Mott, I had totally missed a bakery called Golden Fung Wong (41 Mott). It was probably the only bakery left in Chinatown that I had not yet stalked in search of fortune cookies. When I walked in, I could see all the way into the massive ovens in the back. The front looked like most of the bakeries I had already been inside. I inhaled... nothing was being baked at the moment. I turned to leave when I saw them: a bag of fortune cookies! Not individually wrapped! I snatched the bag off the shelf and asked the woman behind the counter excitedly if they were made in-house. She had no idea what I was saying. She found someone to translate, and yes, they were baked earlier that day! "What time will you bake your next batch?" I asked the two young apron-clad translators, "I really like the smell." Sometimes I confess my inner thoughts a little too freely. They gave me a deserved look that said "you are weird," then looked at each other and shrugged. I decided that was probably my cue to pay for the cookies and go home. Fate had smiled upon me, and now I was pushing it. Perhaps I'll drop in another day and see what happens.

Photos below: (1) The noodle guy at New Wonton Garden (2) I had no idea there were so many different kinds of ginger! (3) Candy on every corner (4) At Uiui Bubble Tea, Homer Simpson greets you with a smile (5) Fish ball on a stick, $1 (6) My new favorite snacking joint!

Bocconcini to the Rescue

If you haven't seen me post a blog article in more than 2-3 days (and you know that my computer is functioning properly), it probably means morale = low. This is usually due to a high-stress work week, working Saturdays and Sundays, or both. It's probably nothing that can't be cured by some cheese. Well, and maybe a little wine.

Those cute little balls of fresh mozzarella at the store called bocconcini are so tasty and handy to have around mealtime. Here are 3 things you could do with bocconcini:

1. Happy hour snack. Love fried mozzarella, hate Applebees? Me too. Roll the bocconcini in flour, coat with egg wash (egg yolk + tsp of water, beaten together), then roll in Panko breadcrumbs seasoned with salt and pepper. Fry in olive oil or vegetable oil until golden and crispy.

2. Elegant Caprese bites. Cut each mini-moz into fourths, and serve on a toothpick stacked with torn basil and a grape tomato. Season with salt and pepper, and serve with a mixture of balsamic vinegar + olive oil for dipping.

3. Pasta dinner bonus. Penne with tomato sauce is amped up by stirring in bits of bocconcini and fresh basil at the last minute.

God vs. Bed

I gave up sleeping in past 9:00 a.m. for Lent.

I'm doing pretty good, but bed was victorious this morning by a narrow margin of mere minutes.

Bed is really on a hot streak right now.

One Fish, Two Fish, Irish Dish

"What are you doing?"

I can imagine how it must have looked when my husband walked in the door coming home from work yesterday, and saw me with a big vodka martini in hand. "I'm celebrating St. Patrick's Day early," I said, like it should have been obvious.

In all honesty, what I really celebrate on March 17 is my Irish Grandmother. In her mind, a true Irish meal was salmon and colcannon. And even though colcannon is traditionally associated with Halloween on the Emerald Isle, we would have it on St. Patrick's Day. Vodka? She just liked to drink it any old day. So when the general St. Patty's-celebrating population goes to the pub to eat corned beef and drink green beer, I like to remember the person who connects me to my Irish side.

Fish is so easy to cook, you just have to get a good fish. A common fish with high turnover like salmon is probably okay to get at a regular grocery store, but if you can find a reliable fishmonger, that will help ease the confusion of picking out a good piece of fish. It's okay to ask what is fresh, and to ask for a smell. It should smell like a fish, but more like the sea, and not have a pungent "fishy" smell. If you can find fish with their heads still on, look into their eyes. They should be clear. Look for bright and glossy flesh, not dry and dull, especially with scallops.

For my piece of wild salmon, I rubbed it with some olive oil and seared the skin over medium heat to give it a crisp. Then I transferred my pan to the oven and let it finish under the broiler. My oven is not the best, so I let it get a little over done. In a good oven, the broiler will brown the top of the salmon (placed on the top rack) and it will only take another 5-7 minutes depending on how thick your salmon is. The middle will be just opaque. I could have also turned the fish in the skillet on the stove top and finished searing it without transferring it to the oven.

For the colcannon, follow a basic recipe for mashed potatoes, but add shreds of cabbage (the green/white stuff, not purple) to the boiling water as the potatoes cook. Drain and mash all together with butter, milk, salt and pepper. The green things on the plate in the picture below are crispy brussel sprout "chips." To make these, wash and peel off the green outer layers of brussel sprouts, and toss with olive oil and kosher salt. Spread out in a jelly roll baking sheet and roast at 400 until crisp and edges begin to brown, about 5 minutes or so. They're better than potato chips.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Good Morning, Sweetcakes

Even though Valentine's Day was over a month ago, you can still make some Sweetcakes for your Sweetcake. I made these for mine (even though we really don't celebrate) and they were delish.

Recipe for Lemon-Buttermilk Pancakes with Raspberry Butter (aka Sweetcakes):

• 1 + 1/2 cups of flour
• 3 tbsp sugar
• 1 + 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 + 1/2 cups of buttermilk
• 3 tbsp unsalted butter, softened
• 2 eggs
• 1/2 tsp vanilla
• 1 tsp lemon zest
• 1 tbsp lemon juice

For the Raspberry Butter:

Beat together 1 tsp of raspberry jam for every 1 tbsp butter.

Heat a griddle or non-stick pan over medium heat. In a large bowl, mix the dry ingredients: the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda and salt. In another bowl, whisk together the wet ingredients: the buttermilk, butter, eggs, vanilla, lemon zest and lemon juice. Make a well in the middle of the dry ingredients and pour in the wet ingredients. Stir until just combined.

I like to grease the skillet with a little bit of butter. Pour the batter on the hot skillet in small batches, to the pancake size of your liking. To make heart-shaped pancakes, place a heart-shaped cookie cutter on the skillet and spoon the batter into the middle. Wait several seconds for just the bottom of the batter to set, then pull off the cookie cutter.

When you see tiny bubbles rising in the middle of the pancake batter, it is ready to be flipped to the other side. Cook until golden, and serve hot with lots of kisses on the side. Top off the Sweetcakes with Raspberry Butter and some powdered sugar.

Breakfast vs. Bed: Rematch

Tictictictictictictictictic... That's the sound I'm listening to at this very moment, coming from my trusty ladybug-shaped kitchen timer. I got up this morning to make muffins!

Part of me feels like a little bit of a cheater, because I really didn't have to get up that early, after all it is Sunday and I don't have any pressing engagements this morning. But in this rematch of bed vs. breakfast, breakfast wins for now (unless I decide to get back in bed with my coffee and muffins - an admittedly likely scenario - then I'll call it a draw).

I'm a little nervous as I write this because, while I'm all giddy about the idea of fresh muffins, I'm not overly confident that the end result will be as good as I hope it will be. This all started a couple days ago when, in my attempts to be ultra-economical, looked in my fridge and cupboard and tried to piece ingredients together to make something substantial without making a costly visit to the store. This is how I usually survive anyways, but especially lately.

The pairing I came up with was some dried cranberries I had leftover from my salad back in January (see recipes: salad) and a tub of vanilla yogurt, combined to make a batch of muffins, which I can then eat for breakfast over the course of several days. Sounds good in theory, but I'm a little nervous about using dried fruit in muffins. We're about to find out...tictictictic...ding! The bell signals the end of the rematch. Judges?


Hmm. One look and I could tell... not nearly as sexy as my sexy fig muffins. Taste test: well, I was right about the dried cranberry. Overall, they are fine, they taste okay, but they kind of remind me of box-mix muffins. They need something... maybe a cream cheese glaze or spread to help boost the flavor. I cannot, in good conscience, give you the recipe until these are improved. Sorry for the morning tease.

My dogs seem pretty interested in helping me eat these. Maybe if they are really well-behaved, and stay off the bed...

Breakfast vs. Bed

Last night, I had every intention of getting out of bed early this morning to bake some vanilla-cranberry muffins before work.

Bed won.

Spring Forward, Braise Back

I have to put on a coat to go outside, which means it's still winter. Which means rich winter dishes will still come out of my kitchen. At the cooking class I was working at last night, the chef said she hates summertime because she doesn't cook anything. I tried to bite my tongue and not brag about my cute little outdoor space that will neatly fit a grill when we finally just buy one already.

(I also tried not to complain about how every time I walk outside, I feel like I'm getting a back-handed slap to the face by a freezing northeast cold front, that I wish would just ease up once and a while so I can walk the daily-15-blocks-to-my-destination-and-back, aka my job, in peace. But I digress.)

There is something to be said about the chill outside, and the warmth of an oven inside, circulating gentle heat and yummy smells throughout your home. I personally love summer because of the fresh tomatoes and other produce. Plus, I still sweat it out and cook anyways, so it's really the best of both worlds.

Recipe for Braised Short Ribs with Creamy Parmesan Polenta:

Braising sounds fancy but it's pretty easy. A few key things to remember, 1.) Pick a cut with a high amount of collagen, such as short ribs, because it will result in a rich and velvety sauce. If your cut does not have much collagen, throw in a pig ear or beef bone (that's normal, right?) 2.) Always brown the meats and vegetables first. Do them separately - you don't want to crowd the pan. 3.) Make sure you use a heavy pot or dutch oven with a tight-fitting lid that can go safely from stove top to oven. If you're not sure, ask me or look up the manufacturer's website 4.) Onions, carrots and celery are classic. But if the mood strikes, throw in some mushrooms, leeks, or whatever herbs and spices you have hanging around. I made mine with sage, because it's one of my favorites.

Let's say you're cooking for 2, as I often do. If cooking for 1, just half it, if cooking for 4, double it:

• 4 beef short ribs; make sure external excess fat get trimmed, either by you or by your trusty butcher
• 1 roughly diced onion
• 2 celery stalks, chopped
• 2 carrots, peeled and chopped
• 4-5 cloves chopped garlic
• Sage (or other herb of choice - I used fresh, but dried is good, too)
• 1 Bay leaf
• Salt & crushed black pepper for seasoning
• Beef stock (enough to fill up the bottom of your dutch oven about 3/4 inch)
• Vegetable oil

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Meanwhile, heat your dutch oven on the stove top (or heavy pot/skillet, doesn't matter as long as it has a lid that fits and the food fits inside, AND it can go safely from stovetop to oven) over medium-high heat. Add about 1-2 tablespoons vegetable oil to the bottom. Rub your short ribs with salt, pepper, and chopped sage (about 1/2 tsp sage per rib). Add the ribs to the pot, browning all sides. Remove with a slotted spoon and set aside. Drain off any excess fat from the pan; you have have about the same amount that was in there prior to the beef. Turn down the heat to medium and add the chopped veggies and garlic, plus a pinch of salt, a few twists of the pepper grinder, and a pinch of sage. Cook until the veggies have colored a little (about 5-8 minutes). Add the beef stock, enough just to come up about 3/4 inch on the edge of your pan. Bring to a boil. Return the short ribs to the pot and toss in your bay leaf. Cover the pot and place in the oven. Let it hang out in there for about 1.5 hours. You'll notice the meat pulling itself off the bone. Remove the ribs and cover with foil to keep warm while you prepare the sauce. Skim off excess fat from the braising liquid (and for my dish, I also pulled out most of the veggies, but left a few onions). On the stove top over high heat, reduce the liquid until velvety. Stir in a roux (a simple flour + butter paste) if you prefer it thicker. Pour over the ribs and serve.

For the Creamy Parmesan Polenta:

• 1 cup of cornmeal
• 2 cups chicken stock
• 2 cups of whole milk
• 3 tbsp butter
• 1/4 cup of shredded parmesan cheese
• Salt and white pepper to taste

In a small saucepan, bring your stock to a boil. Separately, mix together the cornmeal and the milk, and pour the mixture into the boiling stock in a steady stream, stirring frequently. When everything starts coming together, stop stirring and simmer for about 30 minutes until thick and creamy. Stir in the cheese and butter, and taste for seasoning. Add salt and pepper if necessary.

Finally!

It is so nice to finally have my beloved laptop back. Food happens every day!

Today I had leftover ribs from Dinosaur BBQ. If you are ever in Harlem, I highly recommend. They tasted even better two days later. Meat always needs time to rest, and some cuts taste better as leftovers.

Good food is worth the wait. We waited over 90 minutes to snag a highly-coveted table at the Dinosaur. I am so glad to be back to writing my blog updates. Thanks for waiting for me. I hope that I make it worth your wait.