Sunday hurricane reading | 28.10.2012

28 October 2012

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As New York shuts down completely bracing for an ominous storm with the weirdly frivolous name of a John Travolta love interest from the 1970s, there will be plenty of time for reading, cooking, and baking. Provided the kitchen is well stocked and electricity lasts.

As it turns out I haven’t gone shopping in three days but there are at least four pounds of butter in the fridge, and about as much sugar in the pantry. So to start, tonight I will begin making these, hoping the roof stays over our heads long enough to bake them in the morning. The gorgeous buns from this consistently beautiful blog looked very tempting when I first saw them six months ago. They are irresistible today.

But now I wish I had bought pork shoulder rather than steaks the other day because I’m in the mood for slow cooking, flavors melding, dark, and comforting, and the gathering clouds seem to be the perfect backdrop, if there ever was one, for stew.

To be honest I wasn’t craving a recipe for Cheez-its, and I’m still not sure whether I am planning to make these crackers, but they are so incredibly sweet looking, in a delicious not-really-scary-Halloween sort of way. I may brave the storm to buy some cheddar, just in case.

And once all the real baking and wishful cooking is done, I will re-read this essay by Michael Chabon. It’s worth it.

Later I may pick up a book. Stay safe.

Eating out | With an Italian at Parm

25 October 2012

I tricked my very good very Italian (but longtime New Yorker) friend into going to Parm. I misused his optimistic trust in my restaurant tastes and lured him, this Italian food purist, to a ‘by-definition’ suspicious Italian-American place.

It is a few months ago already, but the evening is such a good memory that I’ve been wanting to write about it. So much about the enjoyment of a restaurant is about the circumstances. No bad restaurant will ever be good, but in the large realm of good restaurants, food wise, the evening will be great if the particular place suits the particular mood.

That evening we’d met at the New Museum Triennial late on a Thursday, and despite, I admit, some initial skepticism, as we strolled around the galleries and took a closer look I discovered some intriguing and a few striking pieces. An exhibition is the perfect start to an evening — it needn’t take as long as a movie or a play and in the evening galleries are often lulled by a more leisurely pace. Upon leaving the museum we were busy discussing the art and I took advantage of the diversion to head in the direction of Mulberry Street.

The atmosphere at Parm was bustling and joyful when we arrived. We waited at the end of the bar for a stool at the counter, just enough time to enjoy a beer before sitting down. Looking at the menu I could sense some skepticism on the part of my dining companion, but he was playing along.

It was late so we were there for a bite rather than a full dinner, which was perfect for the occasion. I wrote down what we ordered: garlic bread deluxe with ricotta, cauliflower, chickpeas, spicy rabe, eggplant parm, and zeppole to finish. If I recall correctly, the beers and wines on offer were all, fittingly, American.

I don’t remember the details of each dish but I know that everything was genuinely delicious with clear bright flavors, which is not necessarily what one might expect of an Italian-American joint, but what I had hoped from the highly praised restaurant. (Parm is more casual and just next door to Torrisi Italian Specialties. Both are owned by Rich Torrisi and Mario Carbone.)

I’d venture to say that Simone liked it too. He had to agree that the dishes were very good, of course, and even conceded that the flavors were familiar, distantly but clearly reminiscent of home.

It was, that night, the perfect place.

***

Parm

248 Mulberry Street
New York, New York 10012

212 993 7189

Open Mon–Sun 11am–11pm (Thurs-Sat until 12am)
Bar Menu from 4-6pm

www.parmnyc.com

Fettucini with immediate tomato sauce

4 October 2012

The last of the summer’s ripe tomatoes may be a little soft, a little blemished, they may not warrant much attention as heads will be turned by the arrival of bright yellow squash and orange pumpkins. What these tomatoes want is this sauce exactly. It is so quick, so easy that it will barely distract from the anticipation of slow roasts and apple pies. It is so good that those blemished tomatoes may soon be missed, as the creeping cold leaves heaps of unripened green tomatoes in its wake, with no better prospect but to be transfigured into chutney.

The sauce sort of made itself one night, and I was taken aback by how easy it was to create such a good sauce in so little time. I’d always supposed that good tomato sauce needs to simmer gently and reduce patiently. On that evening there was no time and, temptingly, in the kitchen, some good fettucini and a few roma tomatoes.

All I did was cut the tomatoes lengthwise in sixths, slice a few garlic cloves, heat some olive oil in a large skillet, throw in the garlic for barely a minute, add the tomatoes, and wait until most of the juice had evaporated and the tomatoes hinged on golden and in some places brown. It took perhaps 10 minutes, just about the time to boil the pasta.

***

For two

5 ripe tomatoes

2 cloves garlic

Good olive oil

Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

200 g good fettucini

Really good olive oil

Parmigiano-reggiano

Few basil leaves

*

Bring a large pot of heavily salted water to boil for the pasta.

Cut tomatoes in half lengthwise then in half in thirds. Peel and thinly slice the garlic.

Carefully slide in the fettucini. Cook in a heavy boil.

Heat a generous amount of olive oil in a large heavy skillet. **The skillet should be large enough so the tomatoes are in one layer only.** Cook the garlic for barely a minute over medium to high heat, until translucent, then add the tomatoes. Season generously with salt and pepper. Cook the tomatoes over high heat until a lot of the juice has evaporated and they start turning brown.

Start checking the pasta regularly after about 8 minutes (by carefully taking one out and eating it). Drain quickly in a colander as soon as the pasta is just al dente (or to desired consistency) and return immediately to the pot used for boiling the pasta (one could use another pot but it’s much simpler this way). **It is important not to overdrain the pasta. If it is too dry it will become sticky.** Quickly drizzle generously with good olive oil so the pasta doesn’t stick.

Transfer the pasta to individual bowls. Spoon over the tomatoes, add a drizzle of very good olive oil, tear up a few leaves of basil on each bowl, and grate some parmigiano to finish.

Quick pickles

29 September 2012

The bounty of fall, the joy of coming home after a summer away; it’s the time of year when I am overrun by the desire to cook, pickle, and can, buy way too many fruits and vegetables at the market, and usually only barely manage to rescue them, in extremis, days and sometimes weeks later, and turn them into whatever easy preserve I come across that day. Despite my determination, every year, to squirrel away a veritable pantry of homemade goods for the winter, my canning endeavors are completely haphazard. This year for example I made a few versions of this jam every time there were too many excess plums on the brink. I made a quart of tomato sauce with a few extra pounds of overripe tomatoes. I studded a cake with practically fermenting concord grapes.

But one recipe I was determined to make, the instant I saw it, was Kitchen Culinaire’s peach and lavender jam. At one market on Tuesday I found peaches from upstate New York which evolved from rock hard to mealy soft without a whiff of peach in between. On Saturday I went to look for the seller of West Virgina peaches at the Mount Morris Park market that inexplicably and without a word moved blocks away to the corner of Lenox and 122nd. This producer sells hands down the best peaches I’ve ever eaten in New York, and I wish I’d known of the market’s move sooner in the season. This Saturday I went and bought many many many pounds of peaches, heaved them home, and didn’t make any jam. When, after years of peach frustration, one finally finds fruit that is all that a peach used to be, so long ago, the only thing to do is to eat it just so.

For days we ate peaches, with nothing more than a little Greek yogurt and light drizzle of honey. But I was on a mission, I had to make this jam, so I rescued the last three sweet juicy pounds and proceeded to infuse the lavender, cut the fruit, weigh the sugar, and set the jam to simmer. It smelled incredible, so fragrant and delicate, like a summer in Provence. And then I overcooked it. Beginner’s mistake, bad planning, distracted multi-tasker, I had to stop the cooking to pick up Balthasar from school, when I started it again I was giving Louise a bath and suddenly the jam wasn’t golden brown anymore but deep brown with sparkly foam, the scent of lavender entirely replaced by peach caramel…

Today I rushed out to buy peaches and make jam immediately; there were none, the farmer’s market replaced by a small flea. And so, even with the very best intentions, this year I didn’t manage the one jam that I had set out to do. And despite my best intentions, this post will not be about peach lavender jam.

It’s about pickles. It happened by chance. I saw kirby cucumbers at the market, bought some with no plan in mind; days later when it was high time to use them, I went to this great resource for all things in jars, found this recipe, made it. It’s great.

***

Slightly adapted from Asian-Inspired Quick Pickles by Food in Jars. One-pint Mason jars are the perfect height for these pickles. Makes 2 one-pint jars.

2 one-pint Mason jars
4 or 5 kirby (small pickling) cucumbers
1 chili pepper
1/2 small red onion or 3-4 scallions
2 garlic cloves
4 small sprigs fresh mint
4 small sprigs fresh coriander
1 cup rice wine vinegar
Juice from 2 limes
2 Tbsps sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt

*

Cut each cucumber into six spears. Cut the chili pepper in two lengthwise. Thinly slice the onion (or peel the scallions, cut then into kirby-length pieces, and slice them lengthwise) and garlic cloves. Wash the mint and coriander.

Dividing the ingredients equally between the two jars, pack the cucumber spears and slide in the chili pepper, onion (or scallions), garlic, mint and coriander.

In a small bowl, stir together the rice wine vinegar, lime juice, sugar, and salt. Pour the liquid over the cucumbers, close tightly, and carefully invert the jars to combine all the flavors.

Let the pickles sit in the refrigerator for at least 24 hours before eating.

Weekend walk | Ambling in Williamsburg on a Sunday afternoon

24 September 2012

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Sunday was beautiful. One of those September days that make you forget the excitement of snow storms and wonderment at each blossoming spring and wish those crisp blue skies would last forever. Tugging between summer and fall; a bit cool in the shade, a little too hot in the sun.

We had dropped off Leo at a birthday party and were unusually left with just two children and a few hours to kill.

We drove to Williamsburg with no clear plan in mind; stopped at La Esquina, though I think our initial thought was Radegast. It was the perfect spot for brunch outside on that particular morning. The carnitas tacos were very good as were the ‘hamburgesa’ with chipotle mayo. Washed down with coffee and guava juice. And freshly pressed watermelon.

We ambled on.

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We walked toward Bedford in search of ice cream and fell upon Whisk, a well curated treasure trove of kitchen wares. I barely had time to grab a long-coveted, medium-sized Lodge pan before the pull of a two-year-old drew us along.

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Farther on Bedford we found the Van Leeuwen ice cream truck. While the pistachio was too faint, too unpistachio-y, subtle was the key of the Earl Grey ice cream, which was quite a revelation in fact. There were no complaints from Balthasar and his classic strawberry/vanilla cup. Louise had to share and wasn’t thrilled about that.

Turning the corner I eyed Northside Bakery with its irresistible subhead — division of Old Polish Foods. In my constant search for stout Eastern European-style bread I felt compelled to go in. Sure enough there were a few pure ryes on offer. I bought one seeded rye and a quarter of  the plain one that, whole, is a very large square. Both were excellent; the plain rye is out of this world, just the right amount of chewy, and wants nothing more than a minute in the toaster and a generous amount of really good butter.

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We might have walked to the waterfront, to the Brooklyn flea, and been tempted by a myriad other delicious foods. We didn’t even stop by Blue Bottle for coffee! Sometimes things are best left unplanned and unintentional. And it was time to pick up Leo.

*

A few stops in Williamsburg

La Esquina | 225 Wythe Avenue | Tues-Wed-Thu-Sun 12pm-12am, Fri-Sat 12pm-1am, Mon closed

Whisk | 231 Bedford Avenue | Mon-Sat 10am-8pm, Sun 11am-7pm

Van Leeuwen ice cream truck | Bedford @ North 8th Street | Daily from 12pm til late

Northside Bakery, division of Old Poland Foods | 149 North 8th Street