HUNGRY GERALD

“Schnorrer” is a very evocative Yiddish word. English equivalent might be “mooch.” HG prefers the Yiddish. Essentially, a “Schnorrer” is a person, uninvited, who manages to get things for free, primarily food, drink and housing. Ace housing schnorrer was Harold “Hal” D., a Fire Island friend. He would ask for a one night stay–but it stretched. At HG/BSK’s home, then in Montclair, NJ, his lodging stretched to two weeks before he was asked, forcefully, to leave. He thought that was unfair because he managed to get free meals at Chez HG/BSK. From HG’s New York days, HG recalls a champion schnorrer: A creative guy, he carried photo equipment and identified himself as an assistant to the photographer recording the event. This gave him access to the vast buffets at Jewish weddings, bar mitzvahs, etc. He managed to put away staggering amounts of smoked salmon, chopped liver, gefilte fish, sweetbreads in sauce, etc. Yes, those buffets were lavish. At BSK’s first visit to a Jewish buffet event, BSK ate baby lamb chops and slices of rare tenderloin (among many other delicacies). BSK was shocked at the loudspeaker instructions: “Ladies and Gentlemen. Please take your seats. Dinner is served.” “They must be joking,” exclaimed BSK. “Nope,” replied HG.

HG’s daughter, Vicki Freeman and husband/chef Marc Meyer have another winner: Shukette. Add it to their four other New York restaurants–Shuka, Cookshop, Rosie’s, Vic’s–as culinary musts if you live in the city (or are visiting). Shukette’s chef is the irresistible Ayesha J. Nurdjaja. She’s also the chef at Shuka, the outstanding middle eastern restaurant.(spectacular shish kebab, shakshuka and other delights). Shukette is a spinoff of Shuka. Nurdjaja has let loose all of her unlimited creativity and the result is a joyous, original, delicious restaurant. Who says so? Pete Wells, the restaurant critic of the NY Times, in his rollicking rave review today (Wed. Sept 22). Read all about it. Wells calls Shukette “The Bright Side of the Mediterranean.” The food descriptions will enliven your taste buds. HG/BSK look forward to a New York jaunt next year and plan at least two (or three) Shukette meals. (Shukette is in the Chelsea neighborhood—9th and 19th).

Leslie F., HG/BSK’s beautiful Prince Edward Island pal and neighbor, invited HG/BSK to lunch at Clamdiggers Restaurant in the small village of Cardigan. A generous offer and a tasty lunch. Leslie and BSK had lusty fried haddock tacos served with mountains of sweet potato fries. The tacos contained an abundance of shredded lettuce, chopped tomatoes and an enrichment of lime and chipotle cream sauce. HG had a simple plate of sauteed local sea scallops—plus many of the sweet potato fries that accompanied the tacos. The trio drank Red Ale from Gahan’s, a local brewery (all of their beers and ales are world class). Leslie and HG indulged in desserts (just tea for BSK). Leslie approved of her cheesecake and HG was transported by flourless chocolate torte. The torte was adorned with rum caramel sauce, raspberry coulis and generous scoops of whipped cream. This was the best chocolate dessert ever. Better than New York, Paris, London or Vienna. The torte was lush and not too sweet. Echoes of superior dark chocolate. It gave HG a very happy surprise while sipping an accompaniment of Argentine Malbec. A zillion thanks, Leslie, for a memorable lunch facing a harbor on a bright PEI autumn day.

HG is a very old man. And, as a nonagenarian, HG feels entitled to a comforting, unhealthy treat now and then. One choice is creamy scrambled eggs. Thoughtfully, BSK has provided HG with a small, non-stick Paderno pan. It is the perfect size for the eggs and is used for nothing but egg cooking. Here’s how HG makes the lush scrambles. Eggs are beaten with heavy sweet cream. Pan is heated to medium and a generous (lots) amount of butter is melted. Once melted, the heat is turned down to a simmer and the eggs are gently swirled with a rubber spatula (don’t want to scratch the pan’s surface). When done to a super soft, velvet consistency the eggs are plated (the plate has been preheated, of course). Salt. Pepper. Slice of bread. Hot coffee. Bliss.

When HG was young, New York City was a bread paradise. Bakeries in Jewish neighborhoods carried a cornucopia of treats: Bagels, bialys, “pletzels” (a tasty variety of onion roll) ; rye bread, pumpernickel bread, corn bread, challahs plus dinner and breakfast rolls of every description. Sutter’s Bakery (locations in Greenwich Village, Brooklyn and The Bronx) had better-than-Paris croissants, brioche, baguettes. Lots of fine bread in Italian neighborhoods. The Italian star was Zito’s in Greenwich Village. Groceries throughout the city carried superb pumpernickel from Stuhmer’s and Pechter’s Bakeries. And, for those with timid undeveloped taste buds, there were the Cushman and Hanscom chains which carried tasteless “American” white bread. And, then it all disappeared. The happy news is that bread has made a comeback in NYC and throughout the United States. Top flight bialys and bagels are available online from Kossar’s on New York’s Grand Street. And, indestructible Orwasher’s continues to make great bread as it has since 1916. The “appetizing” emporiums, Zabar’s and Russ & Daughters have, throughout the years, provided its customers with exemplary baked goods to accompany their smoked salmon, whitefish, sable and specialty cream cheeses. And, throughout the United States and many Canadian cities, the Whole Foods chain bakes very good baguettes and ciabattas (HG’s favorite).

So, what’s a “blintz” ? The origin is Eastern Europe and, under various names, is a sweet or savory treat relished by Jews, Poles, Russians and Ukrainians. It is a crepe stuffed with cottage cheese or “farmer’s cheese”, rolled into a shape resembling a Chinese egg roll and gently fried in butter. (Unlike the egg roll, a blintz is never deep fried). HG’s late beloved mother made the best blintzes. Young HG had many happy breakfasts of buttery blintzes dabbed with honey and accompanied by coffee and a bowl of “smetana” (sour cream). Sometimes, Mom stuffed her blintzes with kasha or garlicky mashed potatoes. These were fried in oil and eaten as dinner appetizers. Smeared with chicken fat and dusted with kosher salt and black pepper, they were jolly companions of whisky, beer or brandy. There are many online sources for blintzes and they can be found on the menus of the (sadly, very few) remaining Jewish “dairy” restaurants. But, none can compare with Mom’s wonders. (No, HG’s taste buds have not been altered by nostalgia.)

Yes, it’s a joyous holiday celebrating the end of summer, the onset of autumn, beginning of the football season, and, sadly for some, back to school. What may be forgotten is the frightening exploitation of working men, women and children before the trade union movement gained strength. There are many horrors. The Triangle Shirtwaist tragedy where immigrant young women died by flames or suicide. The Ludlow Massacre in Colorado. The Blair Mountain civil war in West Virginia where thousands of miners battled hired thugs, sheriff deputies and state troops. And, the very unsavory history of Ford Motor Co. where the vicious Harry Bennett ruled the 2,000 man “service department” for 20 years. This was Ford’s violent union busting department. Bennett employed former boxers, prize fighters and streetfighters. Their job was to intimidate (and injure) UAW organizers and members. Their activities (and those of the Dearborn,Mich. police) caused deaths. Four marchers were shot to death in the Ford Hunger March of 1932.  UAW members (including leaders Reuther and Frankensteen) were assaulted brutally by Bennett’s men in the Battle of the Overpass (1937).  Photos of the bloody UAW officials helped turn public opinion against Ford and led to Ford signing a union contract. This is just skimming the surface of many decades of anti union violence and injustice. So, let’s not forget the true meaning of Labor Day. It’s a holiday created by blood and suffering. HG/BSK do not forget. Both belonged to labor unions. HG: Newspaper Guild. BSK: Actors Equity. Solidarity Forever, brothers and sisters!!!

When young HG was growing up during the Great Depression era of the 1930’s, HG’s late, beloved Mom was a paragon of thrift. Many things–noodles, rendered chicken fat, pungent horseradish, chicken and meat stock, baked goods, etc.–were home made. Robust. Delicious. Condiments like mustard and ketchup were purchased. Pickles cost pennies for garlicky wonders from the barrel of a local shop. Mom used a big pot to cook lusty one dish meals. A favorite was a large bowl of what my late sister, the wonderful Beulah Naomi, called “the everything soup.” Mom made chicken soup and added to the steaming bowls many ingredients. Kreplach (Jewish beef ravioli); thick home made noodles; kasha (buckwheat groats), cooked carrots and onions. The chicken was skinned (skins later fried in chicken fat to make savory “gribenehs”) and shredded before adding to the bowls. Pickles, horseradish, kosher salt and black pepper on the table. Adults drank beer. Little HG drank Dr. Brown’s Cel-Ray Tonic (HG still favors this soda as an accompaniment to a traditional pastrami sandwich a la Katz’s and of course, the ultimate pastrami sandwich served by HG’s son at his Freeman Shokudo izakaya/restaurant in Tokyo)..

Lots of rain and strong winds. HG/BSK’s Prince Edward Island oceanfront home is feeling the late stages of Hurricane Ida. Glad that a hurricane is named after HG’s late, beloved mother, Ida Kopkind Freeman. HG’s Mom had a great command of traditional eastern European Jewish cuisine. It was only when she attempted “American” dishes did she falter. (Her hamburgers and fried chicken? Oy, veh!!!). An HG favorite among her Jewish dishes was sweet and sour stuffed cabbage (“Holishkes” in Yiddish). The poet, Heine, exclaimed when having “holishkes” at a Vienna kosher restaurant: “What a noble religion we have !!). The ingredients for the mind altering sauce include tomatoes, honey, onions, ginger, etc. You’ll find some authentic recipes online. Enjoy and remember Heine, hurricanes and Mom.

That was one of the oft quoted food instructions by Curnonsky, the esteemed French gourmand and cooking expert. The other was “Food should taste of what it is.” BSK is a Curnonsky advocate and last night’s dinner exemplified his teachings. Very simple. A thick piece of fresh thick hake. Local Prince Edward Island corn. Fennel. It takes skill and concentration to pan fry a thick fish filet and keep it crisp yet fully cooked with a flaky, juicy interior. BSK did this perfectly. Fennel got a long gentle braise in stock and butter. Lush. Buttered and salted corn on the cob, an August/September culinary wonder. Focus. Skill. Concentration. That’s what BSK has. The result is happiness at the table for HG.