BSK cooks international style, much to HG’s dining pleasure. Italian, of course, relying upon the late Marcella Hazan’s guidance: pasta with mushrooms; Bolognese Ragu; rosemary-chickpea soup, etc.. French (Boeuf Bourguignon from Julia Child’s classic recipe). Israeli (chopped turkey/zucchini fritters and lots of other dishes from Yotam Ottolenghi’s “Jerusalem” cookbook); Middle Eastern (BSK’s unique version of kefte, cigar shaped burgers). Indian (chicken curry and other dishes from Vikram Vij’s splendid cookbooks). Greek (unsurpassed avoglemono soup). Tex-Mex (spicy chili; chicken green chile stew; cheeseburgers smothered in green chile sauce). Eastern European Jewish (kasha varnishkes with fried onions and sautéed mushrooms; karnezlach; mushroom and barley soup; matzo ball soup that’s better than that prepared by HG’s late Mom); American (Rhode Island fish chowder; New York strip steak pan broiled in a cast iron pan; roast spatchcocked chicken). Chinese (Sesame noodles; congee; Spicy Szechuan peanut butter noodles with peppercorns and fermented vegetables; Hunan eggplant; scores of stir fries. Japanese (Zero. HG/BSK conserve their appetite for Japanese cuisine until visiting Brooklyn and SJ and Exquisite Maiko, HG/BSK’s gifted daughter-in-law. EM creates unsurpassed Japanese dishes which combine beauty with flavor.) Last night–Aloha!!–BSK presented a Hawaiian dish–Poke (pronounced poh-kay). Essentially a tuna tartare with Asian flavoring, Poke has become the hot new thing in New York with a number of fast food Poke restaurants opening. BSK’s Poke started with the purchase of sashimi grade tuna at Whole Foods. BSK cut the tuna into 1/2 inch cubes. Mixed the raw fish with minced onion and ginger; scallions; soy sauce; sesame oil; sesame seeds; fresh lime juice; hot red pepper flakes. The flavorful Poke was scooped up with Belgian endive leaves. Sensational. Only thing missing was a song from Haleloke Kahauolopua (remember her from the Arthur Godfrey TV show ?)
As one apparently quite senior to you, HG, I could only read your allusion to the Arthur Godfrey TV show and weep. The deep-voiced redhead was in his glory on radio in the late 1940’s, I believe, when you were obviously still wailing in your diapers, and could not appreciate the easy wit of AG.