HUNGRY GERALD

If you drink wine (and if you read HG, of course you do) don’t miss Peter Hellman’s article “Wine–It’s All In Your Head” in the May 15th New York Post. Hellman does an analysis of our fine wine culture (taste surveys, expert opinions, etc.) and comes up with the conclusion that cheaper wine is often preferable to higher priced quaffs. It all depends on context — where you are drinking, what you are eating; even who your company is.

HG has long felt that his wine palate rules and is not influenced by price, reputation or the opinion of an overbearing sommelier. During these lovely springtime New Mexico days, HG begins drinking Le Ferme Julien Rose at sunset and continues until the first star appears. Then HG makes the transition to a robust red. La Ferme Julien Rose is a blend of Cinsault (50%), Grenache (40%) and Syrah (10%). HG likes it better than Tavel or any of the pricier Roses from Provence and Spain. The Perrin family blends the wine from grapes grown on Mont Vertoux in the Rhone Valley of France. Six bucks a bottle and a true delight.

Talking of delights, check Peter Hellman’s books on Amazon.com. He has written informatively, passionately and brilliantly on everything from The Holocaust, the trials and triumphs of Israel, real estate, crime, music, finance, food,design, etc. Look for his wine articles in The Wine Spectator and Wall Street Journal. A toast to you, Peter, of modestly priced wine,of course.

HG loves squid. Tasty. Healthy. Low calorie. Most restaurants serve calamari as a deep fried mess that tastes something like a KFC chicken that drowned in the Atlantic. In a previous post, HG noted that the key to tasty squid is quick cooking. Here’ a nice Summer salad idea from HG. Cut squid into rings and tentacles. Bring a pot of water to a raging boil. Toss the calamari into the pot for one minute. Retrieve the calamari and plunge the rings and tentacles into icy water to stop the cooking. Throw some Soba noodles (or vermicelli) into the boiling water and cook until tender. Drain and rinse in very cold water to stop the cooking. Top the noodles with the squid and gently toss with sesame oil, fish sauce, chopped herbs (parsley, basil, cilantro, mint). Squeeze some lemon on the dish. Have some invaluable sriracha on the table for a squeeze of heat. Serve with sliced cucumber and top it all with scallions. Icy La Ferme Julien rose would be a nice companion.

Yesterday, Colorado State Senator Gail S., probably the state’s smartest and hardest working legislator (a Dem, of course), was busy attending to government matters near the New Mexico border. Accompanied by her husband, the brilliant lawyer Alan S., one of HG’s favorite dining companions (they shared an epic feast at Le Dome in Paris). Last minute phone call and these delightful people shared an improvised, tossed together dinner Chez HG and BSK. Flutes of Prosecco on the terrace. Then a platter of sheep feta, Kalamata olives, Kumato tomatoes, sliced sweet onions — all showered with basil and olive oil. Main course was linguine with a sauce of Spanish tuna, sauteed onions and garlic, tomatoes, capers and Italian parsley. Mighty good. (Top flight Italian or Spanish tuna is imperative for this dish). A loaf of Santa Fe Farmers Market sour dough bread enhanced the meal. Cotes du Rhone red wine. Mango sorbet for dessert.

Illuminating talk about the eccentricities of southwest USA politics and the proclivity of the French ruling classes to walk away with impunity from shocking charges of venality and corruption.

Sunny and breezy morning at the Santa Fe Farmers Market. Bought sprouts from two endearing, mature ladies. HG likes them — the sprouts, not the ladies — with non-fat cottage cheese and Sicilian olive oil. Bought tiny baby radishes. Tasted marinated goat feta, a variety of jams, honey, mustards and breads. BSK bought baby spinach, mixed lettuces, arugula. Also two big sourdough loaves (one for tomorrow and one for the freezer). Female vocalist accompanied by violin and guitar filled the air with beautiful sounds in Spanish. For sale were two very endearing Nigerian baby goats. BSK was smitten but HG’s cooler head prevailed.

Lively evening at the beautiful Jacona home of Polly B. (renowned photographer and woman of consummate charm and vivacity) and David F. (former prep school headmaster and educational innovator; now a novelist). Also present was Jane W., an estimable painter with an upcoming show in Santa Fe. Drinks and toast topped with pesto before the kiva fire softened the chill of a perfect Spring night. David a.k.a. “The Dude” (as in “The Big Lebowski”) is a Jeff Bridges look-alike and a master of the barbecue. He grilled a superb butterflied leg of lamb (sourced from Shepherds, a Santa Fe Farmers Market purveyor). Cooked rare, HG thought it the best lamb in HG’s culinary history. Far better than anything in Paris (or New York for that matter). The lamb was accompanied by market fresh asparagus and a green salad. Dessert was an apple crumb pie. Copious amounts of Cabernet and Pinot Noir were drunk. A joyous night. Thanks Polly and David.

Simple, perfect dinner at “O” Eating House. Tempura fried zucchini with a garlicky aioli. Grilled eggplant topped with an herb laden tomato coulis. Roasted, succulent quail on a bed of couscous. Dessert: A wedge of flourless chocolate cake studded with pine nuts. The last, a perfect companion for a final glass of red wine.

I have posted previously about “O” and I will continue to, as meals there keep getting better and better. Steve Lemon is the chef and he is a major talent. “O” is located in Pojoaque, some 15 minutes north of Santa Fe and about one hour from Taos.

Says HG: If your travels take you to New Mexico make “O” a destination (and if you have kids with you, Steve Lemon’s pizzas are superb).

Swordfish, in HG’s experience, is always overdone and tasteless. Here’s the way HG did a half-pound of swordfish tonight. HG cut the fish horizontally into three thin slices. Quick saute in grape seed oil with plenty of finely diced garlic and parsley. Lots of lemon juice. Served it on a bed of garden greens. Dynamite!!

An eccentric (to say the least) original. Not in any 4 star culinary guidebooks. Beloved by New Jersey gourmands of hearty appetite. HG refers to the Belmont Tavern, a very ordinary looking establishment on Bloomfield Avenue in Belleville, NJ ( adjoining Newark’s North Wards, Belleville was the fictional home of Uncle Junior in “The Sopranos”).

HG doesn’t know if things have changed, but during the 80’s the restaurant and bar were under different (and not too friendly) proprietorships. You got a bill for your food. You got a separate bill for wine and liquor. The one phone booth was always occupied and it appeared to be utilized solely for gambling purposes. The bartender had operatic pretensions (he was actually quite good) and would burst into loud arias when his mood was right.

The signature dish at the Belmont was “Stretch’s Chicken Savoy.” This occupies a place in Joisey cuisine similar to the Tour D’Argent’s pressed duck in Paris. The ne plus ultra. The Iminimitable. The classic. The chicken pieces were roasted to the point where the skin was crisp and the interior juicy. The sauce was near black in color, redolent of vinegar, garlic, olive oil, anchovies and a melange of spices known only to Stretch, then the chef d’cuisine and owner of the restaurant portion of the Belmont. HG liked to start his meal at Belmont with shrimp or scungili salad, both dressed simply with olive oil, lemon juice, garlic (lots of it) and red pepper flakes. This would be followed by a bowl (a delicate word for the huge vessel) of cavatelli in a fresh ricotta and tomato sauce. Only vegetable on the menu was fried hot peppers (HG liked to augment the chicken with these).

Here’s the good news. Stretch is gone but his chicken lives on. The Belmont is still in business and is thriving. Here’s an addition from SJ: Not only thriving but appears to be frozen in amber! On a visit 6 months ago, the spot was jam packed with families that SJ could have sworn he had last seen on a visit to the Belmont in 1983. Here’s a warning from SJ. All portions are family style and meant to be shared. Go with a raging appetite and be prepared to wait at the bar until a table empties. It may not be chic, but the Belmont Tavern is a serious regional experience that should not be missed. Not only does it burst with local color in terms of clientele but the cuisine is singular and great.

Gifted daughter LR has informed HG that his number one food perversion is alive and well in Rhode Island. Yes, the oft posted about Chow Mein sandwich, for decades obtainable only at Nathan’s Famous in Coney Island, has re-surfaced in Riverside, RI. LR reports that Lee’s, a rather plain spoken, Chinese restaurant now serves a Chow Mein sandwich. HG, with a firm grasp of irony, questions their authenticity. HG will submit it to a taste test during an upcoming visit to the Minuscule but Mighty state.

While in Riverside, HG will indulge in a one other perversion: a grip of New York System Hot Wieners topped with its unique (think Greeek Moussaka meets Texas Chile) meat sauce and washed down with the very odd RI beverage known as coffee milk.

HG will not indulge, however, in the top Rhode Island food perversion – Dunkin’ Donuts. It is a perversion cum obsession that has made Rhode Island lead the USA in per capita doughnut consumption. A perversion that has named the major arena, home to those excellent Rhode Island University and Providence College basketball teams, the Dunkin’ Donuts Arena a.k.a. “The Dunk.”

HG has posted before about the wonders of the Russian Tea Room when it was run by the late, great Sidney Kaye. HG had a charge account at RTR and since his offices were directly across the street from the restaurant, HG lunched there at least three times a week. There was also an occasional blini-red caviar-melted butter-sour cream weekend brunch. A few sumptuous dinners here and there, not to mention a good number of after work vodkas at the bar. In time HG’s tab began to resemble the national debt. Then, for some reason, monthly statements stopped coming. Guilty HG phoned Sidney. Here’s Sidney’s response: “Goddamn bookkeeper. Can’t anybody do anything right? I should fire everyone and start all over again. You owe me money? So what? You’re the least of my worries. Goodbye,” Hangs up.

HG kept eating and charging.