Steak Diane
Smash a steak of some sort to about half an inch thick. Fry it up in a little butter, until medium.
Remove steak. Add chopped shallots, and then either brandy or broth to deglaze. Add English mustard, cream, and parsley, and let it all bubble until reduced. Add to steak, and in my opinion eat with some decent crusty bread.
4/05/2003
2/27/2003
Peanut Sauce
Chop a challot. Crush garlic. Peel some ginger, and grate. Seed and chop some chilies. Fry all of these until soft in a little vegtable oil. Season with coriander, add crunchy peanut butter and a little water, and bring it to the boil.
I bet this can be used equally well with a sort of noodle dish with maybe some shrimp as well as on chicken kebab things.
Chop a challot. Crush garlic. Peel some ginger, and grate. Seed and chop some chilies. Fry all of these until soft in a little vegtable oil. Season with coriander, add crunchy peanut butter and a little water, and bring it to the boil.
I bet this can be used equally well with a sort of noodle dish with maybe some shrimp as well as on chicken kebab things.
Peanut Sauce
Chop a challot. Crush garlic. Peel some ginger, and grate. Seed and chop some chilies. Fry all of these until soft in a little vegtable oil. Season with coriander, add crunchy peanut butter and a little water, and bring it to the boil.
I bet this can be used equally well with a sort of noodle dish with maybe some shrimp as well as on chicken kebab things.
Chop a challot. Crush garlic. Peel some ginger, and grate. Seed and chop some chilies. Fry all of these until soft in a little vegtable oil. Season with coriander, add crunchy peanut butter and a little water, and bring it to the boil.
I bet this can be used equally well with a sort of noodle dish with maybe some shrimp as well as on chicken kebab things.
2/22/2003
Lamb with Egg Sauce
Fry up some young lamb. Deglaze the pan with white wine and chicken broth. Reduce. Remove from pan. Then fry up some garlic and parsley, put the reduced sauce back in, and add two eggs and lemon. Take the pan off the heat, stir like a carbonara, and serve with lamb chops.
Capelletti in brodo
Fry up a little beef, pork, and veal. (if you have it). Grind it up after cooking. Add an egg, and some parmesan cheese to the ground meat. Then add some lemon zest. Add a little nutmeg, if you’ve got it. Chop up some flat leaf parsley, and add that to the whole mix. Mix it all well. You want a fairly moist meet mixture here. You want it to be able to hold together, so if you want to add some water or egg, go ahead.
Make some pasta, with whatever recipe you like. Roll the pasta out thinly, or use a pasta machine. Cut small circles out of the dough. Put a little bit of filling in the middle, and fold in half. Then fold so that the two edges touch, making a sort of hat shape.
Boil all the capelleti in fresh delicious chicken broth. Boil. Three minutes later, you have yourself some wonderful food.
[this recipe looks like it would be nice with ready made wonton wrappers as well, if you need something that can be done more quickly.
This is also closely related to the Armenian dish called menthe, which is made with a non-egg dough. For menthe, however, use raw meat, bake the menthe first in the oven, then simmer in a little chicken broth and serve with garlicky yogurt.
Fry up some young lamb. Deglaze the pan with white wine and chicken broth. Reduce. Remove from pan. Then fry up some garlic and parsley, put the reduced sauce back in, and add two eggs and lemon. Take the pan off the heat, stir like a carbonara, and serve with lamb chops.
Capelletti in brodo
Fry up a little beef, pork, and veal. (if you have it). Grind it up after cooking. Add an egg, and some parmesan cheese to the ground meat. Then add some lemon zest. Add a little nutmeg, if you’ve got it. Chop up some flat leaf parsley, and add that to the whole mix. Mix it all well. You want a fairly moist meet mixture here. You want it to be able to hold together, so if you want to add some water or egg, go ahead.
Make some pasta, with whatever recipe you like. Roll the pasta out thinly, or use a pasta machine. Cut small circles out of the dough. Put a little bit of filling in the middle, and fold in half. Then fold so that the two edges touch, making a sort of hat shape.
Boil all the capelleti in fresh delicious chicken broth. Boil. Three minutes later, you have yourself some wonderful food.
[this recipe looks like it would be nice with ready made wonton wrappers as well, if you need something that can be done more quickly.
This is also closely related to the Armenian dish called menthe, which is made with a non-egg dough. For menthe, however, use raw meat, bake the menthe first in the oven, then simmer in a little chicken broth and serve with garlicky yogurt.
2/18/2003
Some thoughts about the eating of offal from Speorri
The aim here is not to make a study of the magico-religous significance of the interest man everywhere and at all times has shown in viscera. But to talk about cooking is automatically to talk about the digestive system, and in this sense Diphilus of Siphnos is right in describing the digestive properties of each vegetable; but the question goes much deeper, back to the soothsayers and hierophants of antiquity . . . And If were asked why Christian traditions in France involve eating of blood pudding at Christmas, and of mayeritsa at Easter in Greece, I would say because these are the feasts of birth and rebirth.
The aim here is not to make a study of the magico-religous significance of the interest man everywhere and at all times has shown in viscera. But to talk about cooking is automatically to talk about the digestive system, and in this sense Diphilus of Siphnos is right in describing the digestive properties of each vegetable; but the question goes much deeper, back to the soothsayers and hierophants of antiquity . . . And If were asked why Christian traditions in France involve eating of blood pudding at Christmas, and of mayeritsa at Easter in Greece, I would say because these are the feasts of birth and rebirth.
2/15/2003
I'm currently reading Mythology & Meatballs, which is a distilled version of Daniel Spoerri's original travelogue of his time on the Greek island of Symi. It is a fascinating read, sporting a bizarre combination of ancient erudition, stories about 1960's era Greek sanitation, and food. I'm not really sure what to call it, honestly; it's not entirely a cookbook, but neither is it purely a travelogue. In any case, here is the first installment of things I've drawn from it as interesting.
sporelio, apparently, is a kind of very cheap oil drawn from the seeds of an olive. It comes up in Spoerri's story in a bowl of rice and mackerel he made for his attendant cats.
When in Greece, do not but the herb mazidi for culinary purposes, lest you be made fun of by Greek women. As a passing priest apparently told Speorri, it has a lot of uses, but none of them involve food.
Mayeritsa
This is something I am terribly unlikely to make. Nonetheless, here is my version of his recipe.
Boil the offal of a lamb for half an hour. Remove and chop finely. Replace in the bouillon, adding two or three quarts of water, with absolutely no other seasoning. [one of spoerri's companions breaks in here to note that seasoning it, especially with either onion or dill, will only succeed in sickening the soup, making it fit only for mainlanders] . Add a little salt. cook for an hour, then thicken the soup with a mixture of egg yolks and juice of a lemon.
sporelio, apparently, is a kind of very cheap oil drawn from the seeds of an olive. It comes up in Spoerri's story in a bowl of rice and mackerel he made for his attendant cats.
When in Greece, do not but the herb mazidi for culinary purposes, lest you be made fun of by Greek women. As a passing priest apparently told Speorri, it has a lot of uses, but none of them involve food.
Mayeritsa
This is something I am terribly unlikely to make. Nonetheless, here is my version of his recipe.
Boil the offal of a lamb for half an hour. Remove and chop finely. Replace in the bouillon, adding two or three quarts of water, with absolutely no other seasoning. [one of spoerri's companions breaks in here to note that seasoning it, especially with either onion or dill, will only succeed in sickening the soup, making it fit only for mainlanders] . Add a little salt. cook for an hour, then thicken the soup with a mixture of egg yolks and juice of a lemon.
2/08/2003
2/07/2003
Here are some recipes from Richard Olney's Simple French Food. This book, incidentally, is a perfect example of the kind of book I wouldn't have given a second look normally. After all, the gloriously buxom Nigella Lawson isn't on the cover. (yes, yes, it's sarcasm). But guided by John Thorne, I heard about this apparent classic. In any case, it's a terrific book, filled with interesting recipes. Some of them are beyond me (I'm not going to find fresh pork fat to line terrines), but they're interesting to read about nonetheless.
Potatoes in Beer
Finely slice some onions and potatoes. Put them in a dish, alternating layers of onion and potato. Pour over some beer and bake for one hour, starting with a hot oven and turning down to about 350 after ten minutes. Ten minutes before finishing, pour over some cream.
Eggplant Custard
Saute thinly sliced mushrooms in olive oil, finishing them with a little lemon juice. Fry a few tomatoes until nearly dry. Fry 1/3 inch slices of aubergine until golden, and then arrange all ingredients in a dish. Pour over a mixture of egg, milk (2 eggs/1 cup of milk for 1.5 pounds of aubergine) and salt, and then bake for 30 minutes at about 375, or until the custard is set in the middle.
Beef and Onions in Beer
Carbonnade du Nord
Cook one pound of sliced onions in oil until softened and lightly caramelized. Brown 2 pounds of beef cut into slices. When all the steaks have been browned turn the flame low and add 2 teaspoons of brown sugar into the empty skillet.Add 3 TB of flour, and cook for a few minutes. Finally, deglaze with 2 cups of beer, stir in 1 cup of stock, and bring the whole thing to a boil. Now arrange the slices of meat in alternatve layers with the fried onions and pour over the loquid. Cook, tightly covered, in a 300 degree oven for three hours.
Potatoes in Beer
Finely slice some onions and potatoes. Put them in a dish, alternating layers of onion and potato. Pour over some beer and bake for one hour, starting with a hot oven and turning down to about 350 after ten minutes. Ten minutes before finishing, pour over some cream.
Eggplant Custard
Saute thinly sliced mushrooms in olive oil, finishing them with a little lemon juice. Fry a few tomatoes until nearly dry. Fry 1/3 inch slices of aubergine until golden, and then arrange all ingredients in a dish. Pour over a mixture of egg, milk (2 eggs/1 cup of milk for 1.5 pounds of aubergine) and salt, and then bake for 30 minutes at about 375, or until the custard is set in the middle.
Beef and Onions in Beer
Carbonnade du Nord
Cook one pound of sliced onions in oil until softened and lightly caramelized. Brown 2 pounds of beef cut into slices. When all the steaks have been browned turn the flame low and add 2 teaspoons of brown sugar into the empty skillet.Add 3 TB of flour, and cook for a few minutes. Finally, deglaze with 2 cups of beer, stir in 1 cup of stock, and bring the whole thing to a boil. Now arrange the slices of meat in alternatve layers with the fried onions and pour over the loquid. Cook, tightly covered, in a 300 degree oven for three hours.
2/06/2003
My apartment smells of sourdough. Or, more accurately, just of sour, since the bread hasn't been made yet. It's been smelling for three days, as the starter sitting in a bowl on top of my books has got more and and more tart. And the worst part is that I'm not sure it's going to work. Well, the moment of truth is tonight. For the first time, I'm going to try out this sourdough starter, and see if it actually raises anything. In all honesty, I'm a little sceptical, not just of my own effort, but of the concept itself. How, exactly, is a little flour left to soak in bottled water for a couple of days doing to produce yeast? Apparently, however, it works, because people seem to have produced bread before any sort of leaven came in convenient little bags. My fingers are crossed!
1/30/2003
1/26/2003
I found this recipe for lemon ice cream in a book called "The Outlaw Cook", by John Thorne. The clever thing about it is that you don't need to make a custard first, and you certainly don't need an ice cream maker. I'm not sure it will come out smooth enough, but let's try it out.
Lemon Ice Cream
1 cup of superfine (caster) sugar
2 cups of cream
Juice of 1 lemon and its zest.
Lemon Ice Cream
1 cup of superfine (caster) sugar
2 cups of cream
Juice of 1 lemon and its zest.
1/21/2003
Zabar's and Fairway Market
80th/74th Street and Broadway
From the description in my guide book, it sounded like these two "super" markets were rather like Hediard in Paris, or the food area of Harrod's in London. Namely, snobby wildly overpriced gougathons, replete with $5000 wines and $41 truffle hamburger mix.
As I walked into one or the other (I don't remember now), I realized I couldn't have been more wrong. This was no upper-brow Hediard, suffocated by its own superiority.
What it was, in reality, was a microcosm of the wonderful markets that make Parisian food so rewarding, tinged with a bit of Notting Hill market's mad bohemia. Over in produce, Hispanic restaurant employees were tussling with wealthy upper west side women for Italian parsley, each stuffing prodigous amounts almost angrily into their respective bags. The man behind the bread counter kept yelling at the shoppers. I saw a couple of people fighting over the day's last rugelach, people almost brutally trying to jump the queue for meats despite it all being with numbers, and one old lady in a wheelchair desperately trying to be noticed when her turn for fish came around. People were running, and dashing, and bowling each other over, all the while buying and buying and buying.
Amid the chaos was a bevy of terrific products. Spicy sausage, aged beef, vegetables as good as I've seen in America save during my brief trip to California, all sorts of foreign and interesting bits and pieces, and great looking bread. Even the prepared foods looked good; I can now see how people in New York manage without doing much cooking. No, it's still not Paris, I have to say. I bet any little town in Italy would be better. But for America, both these stores are damned good, and have a lot to teach those ridiculous "organic" outlets which have now so heavily esconsed themselves in the dreariness of suburban American. Hail to Zabar's and Fairway! Praise them with great praise!
(Ten points for catching the reference that sentence makes!)
80th/74th Street and Broadway
From the description in my guide book, it sounded like these two "super" markets were rather like Hediard in Paris, or the food area of Harrod's in London. Namely, snobby wildly overpriced gougathons, replete with $5000 wines and $41 truffle hamburger mix.
As I walked into one or the other (I don't remember now), I realized I couldn't have been more wrong. This was no upper-brow Hediard, suffocated by its own superiority.
What it was, in reality, was a microcosm of the wonderful markets that make Parisian food so rewarding, tinged with a bit of Notting Hill market's mad bohemia. Over in produce, Hispanic restaurant employees were tussling with wealthy upper west side women for Italian parsley, each stuffing prodigous amounts almost angrily into their respective bags. The man behind the bread counter kept yelling at the shoppers. I saw a couple of people fighting over the day's last rugelach, people almost brutally trying to jump the queue for meats despite it all being with numbers, and one old lady in a wheelchair desperately trying to be noticed when her turn for fish came around. People were running, and dashing, and bowling each other over, all the while buying and buying and buying.
Amid the chaos was a bevy of terrific products. Spicy sausage, aged beef, vegetables as good as I've seen in America save during my brief trip to California, all sorts of foreign and interesting bits and pieces, and great looking bread. Even the prepared foods looked good; I can now see how people in New York manage without doing much cooking. No, it's still not Paris, I have to say. I bet any little town in Italy would be better. But for America, both these stores are damned good, and have a lot to teach those ridiculous "organic" outlets which have now so heavily esconsed themselves in the dreariness of suburban American. Hail to Zabar's and Fairway! Praise them with great praise!
(Ten points for catching the reference that sentence makes!)
1/20/2003
Lombardi's
32 Spring Street, Little Italy
New York, NY
Lombardi's is apparently one of the most famous pizza joints in New York. It certainly looks like one, with tightly spaced tables spread through a narrow and somewhat labrythine restaurant.
I probably don't need to say that I went there with some anticipation. Ever since I visited their apparent competitors in the poorly named New Haven, I've been wondering whether the real New York deal was any better.
I emerged both disappointed and satisfied. The latter because of the wonderful fresh mozarrella spread sparingly over the pizza, and because of the crispiness of the crust and the friendly chewy crackle as I guzzled down piece after piece.
I was disappointed, however, by the actual taste of the crust. Yes, it was well fermented, and so the pungency of a good crust was there without question. The problem, however, was salt. I don't know whether I got a bad batch,or the second string dough maker was on the job that night, but the crust was salty to distraction. I've never had crust like this, I thought, as I hurled cups of water down my throat. Actually, now that I think of it, I've had crust like this once; early on in my pizza making experiments, I once got frustrated with my insufficiently salted efforts and unceremoniously dumped a whole lot of the stuff into the dough. That pizza tasted exactly like this one.
So, salt aside, Lombardi's makes an excellent pizza. Hopefully I just caught an off night.
32 Spring Street, Little Italy
New York, NY
Lombardi's is apparently one of the most famous pizza joints in New York. It certainly looks like one, with tightly spaced tables spread through a narrow and somewhat labrythine restaurant.
I probably don't need to say that I went there with some anticipation. Ever since I visited their apparent competitors in the poorly named New Haven, I've been wondering whether the real New York deal was any better.
I emerged both disappointed and satisfied. The latter because of the wonderful fresh mozarrella spread sparingly over the pizza, and because of the crispiness of the crust and the friendly chewy crackle as I guzzled down piece after piece.
I was disappointed, however, by the actual taste of the crust. Yes, it was well fermented, and so the pungency of a good crust was there without question. The problem, however, was salt. I don't know whether I got a bad batch,or the second string dough maker was on the job that night, but the crust was salty to distraction. I've never had crust like this, I thought, as I hurled cups of water down my throat. Actually, now that I think of it, I've had crust like this once; early on in my pizza making experiments, I once got frustrated with my insufficiently salted efforts and unceremoniously dumped a whole lot of the stuff into the dough. That pizza tasted exactly like this one.
So, salt aside, Lombardi's makes an excellent pizza. Hopefully I just caught an off night.
Artie's Deli
Artie's is a charming little deli on the Upper West Side, like everything else I've listed here. The service was excellent and friendly, while the sour and dill pickles and coleslaw brought to accompany my sandwich were also excellent examples of their kind.
I think, though, I made a wrong turn on the sandwich choice. It wasn't Artie's fault. The corned beef arrived piled almost impossibily high on what turned out to be excellent rye bread. But what I've discovered, finally, is that I don't particularly like corned beef. Not that I have any problem with it, or won't eat it or anything, but it just isn't that good, both tasteless and fatty at the same time.
Having been disappointed by the famous beef, I've now taken a quick detour to Foodtv to find out exactly what the stuff is. According to them, it'sbrisket cured in a brine. Frankly, I'd rather have the brisket sans brine any day.
As I say, however, the non-tastiness of corned beef shouldn't be counted against the restaurant. All the soups and other sandwiches looked lovely. They had a great selection of desserts as well. But in the end I don't think I would make a special trip to eat there. A deli, it seems to me is a neighborhood kind of thing, and I bet there is the equal of Artie's spread all throughout New York.
Artie's is a charming little deli on the Upper West Side, like everything else I've listed here. The service was excellent and friendly, while the sour and dill pickles and coleslaw brought to accompany my sandwich were also excellent examples of their kind.
I think, though, I made a wrong turn on the sandwich choice. It wasn't Artie's fault. The corned beef arrived piled almost impossibily high on what turned out to be excellent rye bread. But what I've discovered, finally, is that I don't particularly like corned beef. Not that I have any problem with it, or won't eat it or anything, but it just isn't that good, both tasteless and fatty at the same time.
Having been disappointed by the famous beef, I've now taken a quick detour to Foodtv to find out exactly what the stuff is. According to them, it'sbrisket cured in a brine. Frankly, I'd rather have the brisket sans brine any day.
As I say, however, the non-tastiness of corned beef shouldn't be counted against the restaurant. All the soups and other sandwiches looked lovely. They had a great selection of desserts as well. But in the end I don't think I would make a special trip to eat there. A deli, it seems to me is a neighborhood kind of thing, and I bet there is the equal of Artie's spread all throughout New York.
H & H Bagels
UPDATE: This branch of H & H is apparently connected to Seinfeld as well.
I'm used to Bagel shops as full service sandwich dispensers/cafes, given my experiences in DC and around my law school. Therefore, when I walked into H & H and saw nothing but a counter, a kettle, and a giant oven frantically being fed with newly boiled bagels, I was a little surprised.
I was even more surprised when my first order was rejected by the cashier. Looking as if I had justed asked for newborn rather then a blueberry bagel, he stammered the terrible news; "Those aren't hot!". Properly chastized, I had him bring me some raisin bagels, which he assured me were appropriately fresh. And they were terrific.
My only note is to bring something less then a $20 bill. The frazzled employees looked a little annoyed with me the next morning. But hey, I got my bagel.
UPDATE: This branch of H & H is apparently connected to Seinfeld as well.
I'm used to Bagel shops as full service sandwich dispensers/cafes, given my experiences in DC and around my law school. Therefore, when I walked into H & H and saw nothing but a counter, a kettle, and a giant oven frantically being fed with newly boiled bagels, I was a little surprised.
I was even more surprised when my first order was rejected by the cashier. Looking as if I had justed asked for newborn rather then a blueberry bagel, he stammered the terrible news; "Those aren't hot!". Properly chastized, I had him bring me some raisin bagels, which he assured me were appropriately fresh. And they were terrific.
My only note is to bring something less then a $20 bill. The frazzled employees looked a little annoyed with me the next morning. But hey, I got my bagel.
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