HUNGRY GERALD

Popeye not only loved it, he depended upon it! Remember the way his muscles would pop after sucking up a can of spinach allowing him to save Olive Oyl from the clutches of big, bad Bluto? Like the great, mumbling sailor man himself, HG is fond of the leafy vegetable. Loves it mixed into a risotto or rice pilaf. Spinach is one of the rare vegetables that freeze well, so HG always has some in the freezer. Frozen spinach (moisture wrung out) should be warmed gently and mixed with some warm olive oil and lightly browned garlic. Nice with a pan broiled steak. HG did not trust spinach as a child and actively rebelled against it. His imaginative Mom found a cure by concealing the tender vegetable in balls of mashed potatoes and calling the dish “buried treasure.” HG liked the name and the digging for treasure adventure and became a life long spinach fan.

So, watch out Bluto and keep your mitts off of BSK!!!

Have always found caramels too sweet. But, a few years ago HG discovered, in Paris, of course, caramel ice cream enriched with sea salt — fleur de sel. Super yum. Trader Joe’s now carries fleur de sel caramel candies. A treat. Haagen Dasz has a nice Dulce Con Leche ice cream. Give a bowl a sprinkle — a very modest sprinkle — of sea salt. An ice cream surprise.

HG’s beloved Giants rose to the occasion 0n Sunday and trounced the Packers in the chill of Lambeau Field. HG had a big bag of Turkish pistachios (a Christmas gift from SJ) and a bottle of 100% Agave Tequila for sustenance during the game. A pleasant fire flaming away in the fireplace. Then, a celebratory dinner of pork chops, beans, corn and okra. Southwestern chow with jalapeno, chopped onion, sliced avocado, fiery salsa toppings. Lots of very cold Samuel Adams beer. The day before, Tom Brady, the decidedly secular quarterback of the Patriots, dissected the Denver Broncos. Some 25 years of residence in Colorado have made HG a Broncs fan (it was inevitable). However, the deification of young Tim Tebow, a strange hybrid of a running back/passer, has disturbed HG. Tebow seems like a nice young man but he has been on his way to becoming the poster boy (a virgin poster boy, by his admission) of the Christian right. He starred in an anti-abortion commercial last year. There was a smarmy religious commercial during the broadcast of Saturday’s Bronc disaster. So, HG took some very grim satisfaction at the triumph of secular New England football.

Smoked Spanish paprika, La Vera Pimenton, is a very good thing and should be part of every gourmand’s cooking arsenal. It is uniquely smokey with a subtle spiciness. Great with eggplant and zucchini. As a change of pace, it can be dusted over softly scrambled eggs. HG likes to do a quick stir fry of shrimp in oil and garlic dusted with a liberal dose of this magic ingredient. A great appetizer. Equally good over buttery grits.

Shrimp and grits is an HG favorite. Check Google. You’ll find some good recipes for this Southern dish by Bobby Flay among others. Best shrimps and grits ever were served with Tasso Ham at Soul Kitchen, a funky restaurant in Chicago’s Wicker Park neighborhood. Alas, the place is now closed.

New York Times had a story on the duck lunch at David Chang’s Ssam Bar and the “duckavore” dinner at Wong in the West Village. Duckalicious. The descriptions of the ducky delicacies were so riveting and appetizing that HG was tempted to leave for The Big Apple post haste. However, HG stayed put and ransacked his memory for tasty webbed foot treats.

Best duck dish ever was the braised duck with olives at the late Le Pavillon. Crisp and juicy, the abundant richness of duck fat cut by the sting of the olives. A runner up was the crackling Peking duck at the Peking Duck House in New York’s Chinatown. When in Paris, HG often indulges in the ubiquitous duck confit; however, the best HG has ever tasted came not from Paris, but was found behind the counter of Oyama, the great French-oriented charcuterie and cheese shop located in Vancouver’s Public Market on Granville Island. In Chinatown (both in New York and Vancouver), HG often does a simple (and cheap) lunch of barbecued duck and pork plus a bowl of rice and pot of tea.

During their ten years of residence on Manhattan’s Upper West Side, HG and BSK had a tradition of late Sunday dinner a deux (little ones safely snoozing). The duo devoured a rotisserie barbecued duck from the Bretton Woods Butcher on W. 86th Street accompanied by a salad of sliced orange, sweet onion and avocado. Then, a crusty baguette, runny brie. Two bottles of red wine. A nice way to close the weekend.

Yes, Sunday was a day of indulgence in HG and BSK’s rent controlled paradise. The day began with a breakfast of Zabar’s smoked salmon, sable, scallion cream cheese, bagels and bialys. The fat Sunday Times on the table. It was all worked off with long bike rides in Central Park. SJ strapped to HG’s back. Little Miss LR in a kiddie seat. Peaches, The Wonder Dog, racing along on a leash. Happy memories of food, fun and family — a ducky time, indeed.

They are not good for you since they are virtual cholesterol bombs. However, HG, like virtually the rest of the world excluding the U.S.A., loves innards. Kidneys. Splendid in a steak and kidney pie. Lush in a creamy mustard sauce. HG liked them at Sardi’s, the New York theatrical hangout, where they were grilled and served with lamb chops. Of course, rognons (kidneys) rule in France where they are often cooked blood rare.

Don’t see tongue on menus very often (Except when eating Korean food!). Al Cooper’s, a steak house in the New York garment district, served a thick cut of tongue with creamed spinach and super hot mustard and horse radish. Sweetbreads are a treat. Hotel Algonquin on W. 44th used to serve grilled sweetbreads on a slice of Virginia ham accompanied by thin cut French fries and Sauce Bearnaise. Yum.

Calf’s liver. Should be served pink. The accompaniment of fried onions and crisp bacon is obligatory. The dish reached Olympian heights at Dinty Moore’s (not to be confused with the dreadful line of canned beef stews) a long shuttered restaurant in the theater district (Dinty also did the classic corned beef and cabbage). HG likes chicken livers sauteed crisp and pink. Good with scrambled eggs or in a frisee salad or served over pasta (with plenty of olive oil, garlic and parsley). The chicken fat, fried onion and black radish drenched chopped chicken livers at Sammy’s Romanian are a naughty treat.

HG likes head cheese, tete de veau and all the other elaborate things done with the interior of a cow’s head. One of the best edibles in the world is a cow’s (or lamb’s) brains. The French do brains best, sauteed gently in butter, topped with warm capers and accompanied by a potato puree.

HG has dined on lungs and heart. Got them down, but not a treat. HG does not know if bull’s testicles should be classified as an innard. In any case, prairie oysters are un-yummy.

HG’s favorite innard is tripe. In the form of green chili menudo, HG enjoys it every ten days at the delightful El Parasol restaurant in HG’s New Mexico neighborhood. The ten day limit is self imposed, HG’s response to BSK’s gentle health warnings.

'Offal Taste' Photo Series by Stephanie Diani

As noted in a previous post, HG had planned to make inroads in holiday leftovers as he cheered his homies — the Giants (HG has loved them since, at the age of eight, he followed the heroics of Tuffy Leemans and Ward Cuff on the radio) and the Broncos (the object of a love-hate relationship during HG’s 25 years in Colorado). HG devoured BSK’s incomparable chicken soup and the Giants and Broncos beat their foes (the Broncos game was an extraordinary overtime thriller).

Going into this weekend, HG is gloomy about the fate of the Giants and Broncs vs. the Packers and Patriots. Yes, a deep thinker like HG knows that this devotion is quite infantile. Nevertheless………

Tuffy Leemans

An HG fan remarked: “Wow, HG, you really write brilliantly on dim sum and Japanese food.” HG must clarify (with pride): These posts were written by SJ, who is quite modest in identifying himself. Identity check: SJ is Jeremy Kent Freeman, son of HG and BSK. He is a reggae entrepreneur, barbecue expert, writer, husband of Exquisite Maiko and father of Adorable Haru. BSK, for the benefit of inquirers, is Beautiful Sharon Kent, HG’s wife of 48 years (49 in July). A versatile woman, BSK is a painter, potter, photographer and retired political/public relations strategist. And, a mighty fine cook. With infinite patience and compassion, SJ and BSK tolerate HG.

Blood, Bones and Butter is a memoir by Gabrielle Hamilton, the chef/owner of Prune, a much acclaimed, tiny restaurant in New York’s East Village neighborhood. Very good writing with on target descriptions of a chef’s life, appetite provoking accounts of food and meals and pungent attacks on all manner of food pretensions. Not exactly a tell all memoir. Hamilton caught HG’s interest but failed to satisfy HG’s natural, probing curiosity. There are big gaps concerning Hamilton’s mother, father, siblings and emotional life. Thus, the memoir is a bit of a cheat. But, if like HG, you relish food and restaurants, “B,B and B” is quite a good read.

The Year of the Dragon started with the wonderful holiday leftovers from the Year of the Rabbit. HG and BSK raided the refrigerator for Turkey soup, of course, enriched with kale and noodles. Green chili pork stew. Papardelle ragu. Japanese crabmeat pancakes. Batter for blini. Small amount of red caviar. Sour cream. Spicy hummus. Mozzarella. Feta. Kalamata olives. Bubbie’s pickles. Panettone. Canadian Butter tarts. HG will grab some food from the frig and back to the TV rooting for the HG home teams: Giants and Broncos. Go, Manning and Tebow !!!