A report on Kofte

For a snack last night, I made what we at my home would call kofte, what other calls kibbe, and what I've seen rendered in some books as "stuffed footballs". All of these things are the same, which is to say a football shaped shell of bulghur wheat, onion and ground meat of some sort, stuffed with more ground meat, spices, onions and nuts, and then fried to a golden brown. Though they turned out fine, they could have been much better. My notes follow:

1. My grandmother used to make these by pounding the meat, bulghur and onion by hand until it was a paste thick enough to make a shell. A food processor works great.

2. 1/2 cup of burghul for a half pound of meat does not make a proper shell in terms of flavor and color. I will up this to a full cup per half pound next time.

3. Seasoning, seasoning, seasoning. Kofte needs salt. Lots of salt. And other spices too (Query allspice, cinammon, clove?).

4. Do not be afraid of the deep fryer. Low temperatures do nothing for kofte.

Beacon

I've long meant to go to Beacon, mostly because the restaurant watching community in New York has a lot of respect for Waldy Malouf's food oriented, not over crowded, pleaser of a restaurant.  Part of the magic is the Thursday burger bar, and part of it is Malouf's kitchen counter Thursday night bacchanalian 12 course menu for a mere $98, but most of it is the fact that Beacon is a comfortable, happy restaurant churning out excellent food.  I loved my comfortable leather seat, I loved the spacious dining room overlooking the woodburning kitchen, and I especially loved my simple roast chicken and strong, bracing martini.  My fiancee's lobster salad was equally good, a full half of lobster set aside a number of roasted shrimp and delicate leaves. 

As we left, a tourist couple outside was looking at the menu and was wondering aloud if Beacon had only a prix fixe.  I assured them that there was a full menu inside.  They looked relieved, and then asked how much things cost.  "$27-41 for main courses, except for the burger", I said.  They winced, understandably, and then started walking along 56th street for what was likely to be a much inferior meal elsewhere.  Most places, I wouldn't have minded.  With Beacon, I wish I could have convinced them to go inside.

Maya

I awoke to a figurative fire drill at 4 am (ah, the joy of international law), so here I am at 5:45, things still smoldering.  It's as good an opportunity as any to blog about Maya, a haute mexican restaurant we ended up in Sunday night when I relied too much on the idea that everything is always open in New York, and thus left my fiancee and myself standing disconsolate outside a very closed Sushi Seki.  I was not in a good mood. 

I'm happy to report that the main courses at Maya, although a little dated (hey look, what we ate is mentioned in this old review from Ruth Reichl, who hasn't been the reviewer for the New York Times since 1999, I think) were terrific.  I have nothing but good things to say about my dark, mysteriously spicy, chicken mole, and her adobe chicken with warm pico de gallo was actually very tasty and just lively enough.   Of course, they could have been served at any time from 1984 to today without nary a change, but one doesn't always need innovation, even from restaurants who claim to be "modern".  

Dessert, however, plunged me back into despondency.  A mushy, cold tart, filled with tasteless almond (supposedly) cream, lashed with blueberry treacle? (Blueberries?  now?).  Just awful, inexcusable, glop. 

Maybe my judgment of the dessert is a little stilted, I think, because I was and still am in such an awful funk (see first sentence).  But then I think back to that pathetic, pale flour color circle, and the bland cream that wasn't even encompassed in the crust, almost sneaking shamefacedly away from a pie no one would want to hang around with.  Nope.  If anything, the fact that the mole was delicious probably made me better disposed to that awful dessert than I would have been.  It was bad. 

And yes, as the New York Times says, Maya is expensive.  Unlike many places, I cannot tell you why. 

Friday, thank god

I've had a terrible, wretched week at work, which was not made any better (surprisingly) by the knowledge that my analagous weeks in 2006/2007 were much, much worse. That is to say that I'd be equally stressed out, but also wouldn't sleep more than 2 hours a night. At least I've slept this week, I think to myself.



But it doesn't make it any better.

The chef recommends . . .

The topic over at Tom Sietsema's food chat is whether it's ok to ask a chef to change his or her food for you. My dashed off post is below:

Like other people, I think it depends. At an "important" restaurant, I would never change anything unless it literally makes me sick. I mean, what is the point of Minibar or Citronelle or Alinea or Per Se or French Laundry if you're going to micro-manage these people? The food is what it is. At a lesser place without grandiose aspirations, I think it's ok to change things (though I personally don't do it). No one is going to make a face if you want your Mcdonald's cheeseburger without ketchup. It's a distinction between gastronomy, I guess, and eating. The closer you get to the former, and the further from the latter, the less acceptable it is to monkey with the food.

Thinking more about it, I've come up with this informal taxonomy of the eating v. gastronomy spectrum. The dashed line roughly divides up where I think it's no longer ok to ask for substantial changes in the food. For reference, my views on Prune are here and Babbo here.

Corruption

The really pathetic thing about the extraordinary allegations of deep corruption against the Governor of Illinois, is that Governor Blagojevich was allegedly trying to sell the golden goose of the Senate seat at his disposal for a job paying a mere $250,000 - $300,000. Hasn't he heard of consulting companies, or lobbyists, or any one of fifty thousand places that might pay him such a non-princely sum (non-princely for a Governor, I mean) without trying to sell a Senate seat?

Butternut Squash custard and failed sous vide-y pork tenderloin

I'm not sure what to call this other than a custard, but in any case it is great with pork tenderloin. Simply roast an entire butternut squash in a 350 degree oven for about an hour and a half. Scoop out the flesh, and mix with two eggs, grated cheese, salt, pepper and mascarpone cheese (or, full fat greek yogurt). Pour into a pan, preferably a springform, and bake for about 45 minutes at 350 degrees. Let cool a little (I ate it warm) and cut into pie slices before topping with grated ricotta salatta.

I wrapped the pork tenderloin into a tight sausage in plastic wrap, and tried to poach gently in the plastic, as set forth in the Alinea cookbook. I loved the result of wrapping the pork in the plastic in terms of getting a manageable shape out of a difficult cut to cook evenly, but the poaching didn't work especially. Instead, I pan roasted in butter, basting with butter constantly. It tasted great.

Birbiglia

I've liked Mike Birbiglia ever since I saw him with Jeremy a couple of years ago,  and I liked very much his performance of Sleepwalk with Me.  I associate myself completely with Jeremy's review of an earlier version of the show, except that Birbiglia didn't lose us when he admitted the bad thing (I assume we're both thinking about the same semi-fast food related item), and I thought that the last joke would be that his dad also saw the jackal. 

Anyway, highly recommended.  Even for $30. 

What I'm dreaming about cooking tomorrow before I leave for dinner

Butternut squash custard sprinkled with pancetta and cheese

Small fishes, filleted,  fried in extra virgin olive oil sitting on a mild curry sauce.

Finding a resy

Going out in New York is sometimes a little nervewracking.  We're headed to a comedy show tonight in the West Village, so I needed somewhere to eat.  The obvious place is Otto.  Booked solid.  So is Lupa.  Macao Trading Co. is too.  Kampuchea and the various Momofuku's are likely to be busy and don't take reservations.  John Dory is crushed.  I didn't like the Double Crown review from Bruni (an Asian-British fusion? Flurgh).  Anissa is booked. Little Owl is booked (when is it not?).  

Finally.  Anita Lo's Bar Q, blessed/cursed with a fairly tepid reading two stars from Bruni, and with otherwise decent reviews (Platt) from (Cuozzo) the secondary reviewers (Robert Sietsema hated it).  

Oh crap -just remodeled! Maybe that's why there was space. 

Cooking for friends

I don't often cook for friends. As I get older, I hope to do so more and more. Indeed, I've been thinking recently how nice it would be to get a low-key supper club together. There are problems with cooking for friends when one is used to cooking for oneself, or oneself and a girlfriend or fiancee. Of course, you need to be sensitive to likes and dislikes, though my friends have broad palates generally. But also, there's the simple matter of portion size. I'm afraid, especially because my second course went awry, that I left my guests hungry. Alas.

In any case, we started with small cannolis out of fried wonton wrappers and stuffed them with crab salad (crab, sour cream, lemon). The fried wonton wrappers were a triumph in terms of shape - I wrapped them around a wooden dowel and fried them on the dowel until done - otherwise they puff up and close the cavity. However, I filled them too early and they sogged on me. I also made baby roasted fingerling potatoes topped with sour cream and lox.

My second course was meant to be Blue Hill's soft boiled, deep fried, egg. This failed utterly, as I broke all the soft boiled eggs when I peeled them. So I got rid of the dish.

Dinner was pork short rib braciole, as per this recipe from Carmellini. It is a delicious and really perfect recipe even for a larger dinner party, as it can sit in the oven with literally no ill effects basically indefinitely. The pork shredded, the sauce reduced, the cheese, egg and parsley topping gave an interesting texture and flavor.

Dessert was my (i.e., Jacques Pepin's) apple galette, made with higher fat European butter. The tart has a propensity to leak, but it is always tasty. This is a reliable, workhorse dessert, equally good with pears or peaches.

Wine was this 2007 Oregon Willamette Valley Belle Vallee Pinot Noir. I think this was universally liked by all four of us. Fruity, yet with pinot noir ink.

Erg.

I realized I was going to come to terms with mediocrity back when I understood everything Paul Gowder was talking about in these two posts and could have given him a long and boring lecture on various lines of the Najdorf, and still never got past a 1450 chess rating.

Diet Coke

I stopped drinking diet Coke (or any Coke or Pepsi, for that matter) during my vacation to France this summer. My theory was, with some encouragement from a special someone, that it couldn't possibly be good to be drinking quite that many chemicals in such quantity, and in any case the overwhelming taste of sweet was probably ruining my palate for other more interesting uses (I would have two 20-ounce bottles a day).

It's now been about three months, and all I can say is that from a tangible standpoint, the results of my little self experiment are decidedly mixed. I certainly feel a little less jittery, since my caffeine intake is down (I also have two coffees a day). I can't say that I feel better or any more vital in any substantive way, except that I had a diet soda at a movie the other day, and found it unbearably sweet. I do think my ability to taste wine is somehow better - I'm still not going to taste plums or cherries or what have you, but I feel like I can pick up a little more subtlety now than before.

The experiment continues. Hopefully, the next thing is to cut out the splenda from the morning coffee.

Obama as Glass bead player

In all the hundreds of descriptions of Obama I've ever read, none fits him so well as this description of someone else, from Herman Hesse's The Glass Bead Game (thanks to Amber's comments for the recommendation). So sayeth this lesser man, at least:

"A good many of Knecht's friends and later disciples envied him as remarkable men are always envied, not only for their greatness of soul and energy, but also for their seeming luck, their seeming preferment by destiny. The lesser man sees in the greater as much as he can see, and Joseph Knecht's career cannot help striking every observer as unusually brilliant, rapid, and seemingly effortless. . . . Nevertheless, there are outstanding men with whose lives "luck" is intimately bound up, even though that luck may consist merely in the fact that they and the task proper to their talents actually intersect on the plane of history and biography, and they are born neither too soon nor too late. Knecht seems to have been on of these. Thus his life, at least for a considerable part of the way, gives the impression that everything desirable simply fell into his lap."

Thanksgiving Dinner

A brief note on Thanksgiving dinner at the restaurant 2941 in suburban Virginia, which my family enjoyed very much. The amuse bouche was a risotto asiago fritter, which was satisfyingly crunchy. I followed that with seared Hudson Valley foie gras (am I the only person who enjoys the slightly less unctuous North American product more than true French foie?) with an apple and espresso sauce (puzzling but good). The main course for me was pan roasted artic char - although the fish was good, I'd eat the crispy, salty, skin instead of potato chips any day. My butternut squash puree (in reality, a small butternut squash tart) was tasty and simple, while we all enjoyed the after coffee macarons, pate de fruit, and warm lemon beignets. I chose a South African Kanonkop Pinotage 2005 to drink ($65 on menu, $25.99 online), which did a great job bridging the gap between my fish, my dad's turkey, and my sister's and fiancee's prime steak. If I was being picky, I'd say my father's pecan square with chantilly was too small a dessert, and the soaring, spacious dining room lets in a little too much chill wind. While leaving, I noticed a well thought out and tasty seeming children's menu - a touch that must have been a blessing to parents.

EDIT: I find people who refer to foie gras as "foie" really annoying, though I did it above, and thus presumably find myself really annoying.

St. Andrews

The New York Times has a nice story on my alma mater, among others, describing a supposed trend of Americans heading overseas for college. Much of what they say is true, and I'll say more as I think about it, but I will say now that spending four years at St. Andrews was one of the best experiences of my life, for many reasons.

Sous Vide

A thought crossed my mind last night, but I need to develop it more. Isn't the current vogue for sous vide cooking (i.e., cooking at a very low, constant temperature for a long time in a vacuum pouch) really just a great way for restaurants to make food in advance? From what I've seen of major kitchens these days, much of the cooking on the line is now just assembly - remove artichokes from sous vide bag, remove pork belly from sous vide bag, warm the first in butter, deep fry the second, stack on top of each other with a sauce from a third bag. Is all this bagging really worth the supposed flavor we're getting?

Ruhlman has thoughts on sous vide in general.

Food Video

I love this food video from the Japanese equivalent of the FDA. I especially like when the good fish, soup, and rice are replaced with meat and pancakes on the CGI family's table. Plus, the whole thing has a hilarious Japanese sensibility. Even if the dialogue was in English, I'm pretty sure most people would recognize where this was from, and the message is pretty unmistakeable - "look, the Americans are our friends, but their food makes you fat".

Anatomy of a wine list

We are having Thanksgiving Dinner at 2941, an excellent restaurant in suburban Virginia. My mom can't cook, as she is in France visiting my grandmother, and though I could prepare food and take it down with me to finish, that seemed like a big hassle to feed my fiancee, me, my sister and dad.

In any case, I love restaurants that put their entire wine list online, first because it helps me learn about wine, and second because online wine lists give you rare transparency into the restaurant's cost structure.

Here, for example, are 2941's options for Oregon Pinot Noir (something I am trying to learn about in the context of Red Burgundy, which I like a lot), the price they are selling for in the restaurant, the price the wine sells for at retail, and the markup. Of course, this isn't necessarily the price the restaurant paid, but my assumption here (as opposed to when a restaurant buys meat, where a good chef might pay a premium to ensure timely delivery) is that the sommelier or wine director is paying below retail. On the other hand, they probably have good stemware, and I might never have found these wines on my own.

Domaine Serene, Jerusalem Hill Vineyard, Willamette Valley - $150 - $76.95 - 194%

Medici Vinyard - Estate East Block, Willamette Valley, 2002 - $85 - $27.00 - 314%

Rex Hill - Reserve, Willamette Valley, 2004 - $90 - $31.72 - 283%

Shea Wine Cellars - Shea Vineyard Estate, Willamette Valley, 2006 - $130 - $42.99 - 302%

Civic Literacy Test

I took the online test on civic affairs that elected officials are said to have failed. I would think that a lawyer, at least, should never get fewer than 30 of these correct, assuming they did the test with some care, though really, all the questions are entirely answerable.