Is good food a constant?

My fiancee and I were having a debate recently after having been served some truly wretched food of a cuisine with which we were familiar, but the preparer was not (and had obviously stretched to accomodate us).

My view is that while one cannot expect authenticity in such a circumstance, taste is a universal attribute, and thus if the chef who made the food were talented, he would have known that the food was not good, even if he did not know what it was supposed to taste like. In other words - I have some confidence in my palate, if not my cooking skill. If asked to produce, say, Ethiopian food, I suspect I would produce inauthentic but tasty food, and if I erred and produced inauthentic and unappealing food, I would have noticed.

My fiancee is somewhat more inclined to the view that the badness of food made by people unpracticed in a cuisine is excusable. I don't want to put words in her mouth (and I'm sure I will be chastised if I am mischaracterizing her views), but I think her bottom line is - "maybe that chef's normal food is actually good, and his efforts to accomodate us hamstrung the man".

All this, of course, circles delicately around the cultural relativist question of whether food can be poorly done or can only be differently done. Obviously, I cling to the former position. And, of course, I once got myself in hot water with apparently the entire readership of another blog when I declared that I didn't understand people who claimed they didn't like foods.

Xai Xai

We visited the South African wine bar Xai Xai last night, after meeting with yet another wedding vendor (as a side note, New York is an amazing place - South African wine bar?). I had wanted us to visit for a while now, as we both like pinotage, however much real wine afficianados might snicker, and I was interested to see what kind of food emerged from their kitchen.

We shared a 250 ml pour of Bellevue Tumara 2004 Pinotage from the Stellenbosch valley, which had all the fruity heft of the typical pinotage, and which we enjoyed very much. We weren't all that hungry, so we went light on the very expensive food, but did enjoy our plate of puff pastries (curried vegetables, chicken, sausage and spinach, with a tasty mango chutney) and smoked salmon with polenta. Service was a little bit clunky, but the room was pleasantly lit and well decorated. And, most importantly, Xai Xai is about a block from my office.

Bottom line: Excellent wine. Pleasant space. But everything should be 25% cheaper.

Grandma Pizza

I love the purity of real Italian pizza. Nothing but flour, yeast, salt and water, slid into a flaming hot oven, off a peel slick with cornmeal, onto a pizza stone to sizzle to perfection in just a couple of minutes. Buffalo mozzarella, if possible. A basil leaf or two, simple tomato sauce, and nothing else.
But that's not pizza here in Queens. In Queens, the kings of the pizza scene (is anything better than Gino's of Howard Beach?) make a different pie, a rustic pie, a pie known around here as the "Grandma". An olive oil, flour, yeast and salt dough, square, baked in a pan with more olive oil, with cheese layed out to be cut into hearty squares. It appeals to me because my grandma also made rustic versions of things in pans. Souh bourek, or cheese pie in a pan rather than in individual packages. Seene kofte - layers of bourghoul and lamb crust sandwiching fried ground meat rather than individual kofte.

I suppose this is called a sicilian elsewhere, but a Grandma is a thinnish pie, very unlike the thick wedges that are sicilians elsewhere. The tomato sauce is always extremely garlicky. The cheese is usually polly-o. And when you want this pizza, only this pizza will do.



Here are some pictures at my effort last night. I used fresh mozzarella because I prefer it, but otherwise this is a very simple olive oil heavy dough, spread in a sheet pan and baked. The sauce is just crushed san marzana tomatoes with lots of garlic.

Leftover choux

What to do with leftover choux pastry?  Obviously, best funnel cake* ever. 

 * Where I grew up, at least, funnel cake is a fried dough poured through a funnel into hot oil.  I figured that pate a choux piped into oil would be just as good.  It was.

UPDATE: Do I really need to note that home-made funnel cake should only be eaten piping hot, off a kitchen towel, with another funnel cake still sizzling in oil?  Consider that noted. 

Baking blogging

I've been abandoned for some womanly get-togethers today.  My only response is eclairs.  Here they are cooling right this minute on a rack, to be filled with creme anglaise and dipped in bittersweet lindt chocolate later.