HUNGRY GERALD

New Yorkers are vociferous in lauding the town’s pastrami sandwiches. The sad truth is that the art of pastrami has been faltering in New York for years and it is now possible that the best of all pastrami is found at Langer’s, a traditional Jewish delicatessen in a shabby Los Angeles neighborhood. Runner up to Langer’s is Schwartz’s Hebrew Delicatessen in Montreal, famed headquarters of Montreal Smoked Meat. Californians sneer at all hamburgers except those served at the California-Arizona-Texas fast food chain, IN-N-OUT. Angelenos become orgasmatic in describing the chain’s Animal Style cheeseburger. An HG pal said that when he lands at the LA airport after a trip east or abroad, his first stop (before unpacking) is at IN-N-OUT. “Must get my IN-N-OUT fix.” Yes, the chain makes a very good burger but BSK’s New Mexico Green Chile Cheeseburger tops it. BSK uses 80% lean-20% chuck. Dusts a big cast iron pan with sea salt. Turns the heat up high. Sears the burger on both sides. Tops the patties with abundant slices of Kraft Cracker Barrel Sharp Cheddar. Lowers the heat and cooks until the cheese melts and the interior is a juicy pink. Meanwhile, BSK is warming a saucepan of 505 Bottled Green Chile Sauce. The number 505 is the Santa Fe area code and this sauce is an authentic local product. Great flavor. Plenty of heat. No chemicals or artificial enhancers. BSK pours the sauce over the cheeseburger. Flanks it with home fried potatoes, gently caramelized onions, cole slaw. (HG likes a few smokey chipotle peppers on the side). No mushy hamburger buns. Just cold bottles of Anchor Steam Beer. Another BSK kitchen triumph.

HG has always had divided emotions about Mother’s Day. It is an obvious attempt by retailers to hype a very human emotion–love of one’s mother. On the other hand, it feels good to honor Mom. After all (with some help from Dad) she made you. For better or worse. When HG was a little fellow, Sunday afternoons were fouled by a radio program: “The Horn & Hardart Children’s Hour.” H & H, of course, was a chain of “Automats” where you put nickels in a slot and pulled out inexpensive, remarkably good food (Macaroni and cheese casseroles, Boston baked beans topped with crisp bacon; chicken pot pies and beef pot pies were mouth watering treats). Inexpensive, tasty food–much appreciated during the Great Depression. Anyway. On Sundays, talented little kids sang, played musical instruments and did dramatic recitations on the H & H radio program. HG’s Mom, who lacked some psychological sensitivity, would turn to little HG after some virtuoso performance, and say: “See what he can do. He’s your age. What can you do?” Tough skinned little HG managed to survive with some modest psychic scars. The theme song of the program was a saccharine melody: “Less work for Mother. She’ll understand.” The blunt message: Take Mom to the Automat or buy dinner at an H & H retail store. Save the sweet lady some work. The melody danced in HG’s head as this Mother’s Day rolled around. No work for BSK this Sunday. HG managed to save some excellent cooked linguine from a dinner earlier in the week. Mixed with beaten eggs, formed into patties and fried to a crisp in hot canola oil and butter this riff on fritattas was a treat. A dusting of salt and pepper plus Parmesan. Lots of cafe latte. The Sunday Times. The perfect breakfast for BSK. There were also some cards and delightful, modest gifts from HG, thoughtful Gorgeous Granddaughter Sofia R. and Toby,The Wonder Dog. Happy BSK. For dinner, HG and Sofia laid out an antipasto of sliced mozzarella and tomatoes adorned with basil leaves; superior Porchetta and Prosciutto di Parma; a salad of fennel and radishes (BSK could not be restrained from making this taste treat). Three Spanish cheeses. Meal ended with mushroom ravioli with a sauce of melted butter, sage leaves and Parmesan. Limoncello and Grappa. Almost no work for Mother and a happy day for deserving BSK.

HG spent a night with remarkable women. Very rewarding. It was all choreographed by our dear friend and neighbor, Karen K., a brilliant and generous woman–film producer, gardener, chicken farmer, creator of splendid desserts..and more. Karen K. obtained six tickets for an event at The Lensic, Santa Fe’s venue for dramatic, musical and cultural events. The event, part of the Lannan Foundation’s “Pursuit of Cultural Freedom” series, featured a lecture by Naomi Klein, author of the bestselling book: This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. The Climate. This was followed by a conversation between Ms. Klein and Katharine Viner, editor-in-chief of The Guardian, the worldwide newspaper. But, before spending time with these two intellectually stimulating women, HG dined with a completely different set of talented women: BSK (of course), Karen K. and three of Karen K.’s friends–two photographers and a scholar/antiquarian specialist in Native American art. HG and the women dined at a new Santa Fe restaurant, Paper Dosa, which features South Indian food. This means Dosas and other lentil based, thick and thin pancakes that are dipped in Sambar (a flavorful soup), or topped (or rolled around) lamb, vegetables, etc. and enlivened with chutneys. The restaurant is a handsome space with some excellent art on the walls. Unfortunately, all the surfaces are hard (as is usual in many new, trendy eateries) making the noise level disconcerting. The food is quite good. A few glitches, however. Mango Lassi, a yogurt drink, is an HG/BSK favorite. It is always served well chilled (or with ice cubes). PD’s Lassi was unpleasantly warm. The Dosas were nicely prepared but the chutneys were commonplace. The fried chicken appetizer was splendid but the calamari and cashew starter was insipid. A big hit was the Dahi Vada, a fritter covered with a lush and colorful yogurt sauce. The restaurant is very new and a big hit. HG assumes the glitches will be eliminated. The intellectual portion of the evening had no glitches. Klein and Viner are articulate and compelling. Klein projects optimism even though the climate scenario she projects is dismal and chances of altering the suicidical impulses of the benighted human race seem (in HG’s opinion) hopeless. The Lensic is a beautiful theater, a perfectly restored example of the Spanish Baroque architecture and design that was popular in the 1920’s and early 1930’s. The theater was packed. The previous event, an evening with Noam Chomsky, also drew a full house. Obviously, the Old Left and the New Left are alive and well in Santa Fe.

Orzo is the tiny, tear shaped pasta much used in Greek (and also) Italian cuisine. It is a great favorite of HG. This makes HG the target of sharp criticism by Massimo R., HG’s son-in-law and the distinguished Professor of Italian Studies at Brown University. Ever tactful, Professor R. does not launch a frontal attack on the pasta product but only comments: “It’s okay in soup.” Right. A bowl of steaming chicken broth with a nice dollop of Orzo, enriched by a beaten egg, flavored with spoonfuls of Parmesan, dusted with a few grinds of black pepper—-that’s a soup which will make sneezing and coughing bearable. (HG’s daughter-in-law Exquisite Maiko also spurns orzo commenting that it is a pasta pretending to be rice) But, HG fancies Orzo in many other dishes. Last night, BSK sautéed chopped Vidalia onions with oyster mushrooms from the Santa Fe Farmers Market and added it to Orzo. This accompanied chicken breasts done in the Milanese style. (The chicken breasts were pounded thin. Dunked in beaten egg. Rolled in Panko crumbs. Sauteed in canola oil. Moistened with a squeeze of lemon juice. Crisp and greaseless wonders). Mache salad completed the dinner. HG likes Orzo doused in melted butter and Parmesan. Orzo topped with salty Feta cheese and fruity olive oil is a treat. And, as a breakfast treat, HG devours a bowl of Orzo with sour cream, black pepper and sea salt. HG does not like to joust with Massimo R. on matters culinary or intellectual. But, on the issue of Orzo, HG stands firm. Orzo enhances much more than soup.

Ever inventive BSK combined recipes from two favorite sources…the late, great Michael Field and the very much alive Vikram Vij, proprietor and genial host of Vancouver’s Vij’s, the extraordinarily popular and consistent Indian fusion restaurant. The result of BSK’s kitchen wizardry was two dinners bursting with flavor. The dish combined Field’s recipe for marinated, butterflied leg of lamb with Vij’s curry sauce. BSK marinated the boneless, butterflied leg in olive oil, lemon juice, garlic, oregano and onions. (When grilled, a butterflied leg produces well done, medium and rare lamb. Something for every taste). Vij’s curry sauce (served with the restaurant’s most popular menu item, “lamb popsicles”) is lush and creamy–utilizing sweet and sour cream, fenugreek, garlic, turmeric, cayenne pepper, paprika, lemon juice and oil. Unctuous and addictive. For dinner number one (guest was friend/neighbor Karen K, the brilliant film maker, story teller and Dessert Queen) BSK served the well done and medium slices of lamb beneath generous lashings of curry sauce. This was accompanied by Vij”s Turmeric Potatoes. Potatoes were sliced thinly (BSK uses a Japanese mandoline). They were cooked in a cast iron pan with oil, water, chopped onions, cayenne and turmeric. Baby spinach was swirled into the potatoes some 90 seconds before turning off the heat. (The spinach came from Karen K.’s garden. It gave the dish extra tang while adding a splash of green to the all yellow meal). The meal was repeated the next night using slices of the very rare lamb (much to HG’s delight). The potato side was repeated. Two nights of joyous dining well lubricated by red wine followed by French brandy enriched with a few drops of Peychaud’s bitters.

BSK made chicken curry last night and it was a knockout. The basic recipe was based on the curry Vikram Vij, the master of Indian/Fusion cuisine, makes for his family. BSK tweaked his cookbook recipe (more ginger, no garam masala, no cloves, lots of marjoram ). BSK cooks the chicken thighs with their bones. Adds more flavor. When HG began going to restaurants in the 1950’s there were very few Indian restaurants in New York. “Curry Hill” did not exist. The East Village curry joints did not exist. If there was delicious Indian food in Jackson Heights, Queens, HG did not know about it. HG first tasted chicken curry at Longchamps (long closed New York chain of excellent upscale restaurants). This was a suave dish with a slight amount of heat. HG devoured it with delight. When HG/BSK began their marriage, BSK used the Michael Field recipe for chicken curry. The late Michael Field was the author of unerring recipes. Follow the recipe and you couldn’t go wrong. The Field curry was rich (sweet cream was an ingredient) and called for a variety of condiments–chutney, peanuts, coconut flakes, bacon, sliced scallions, etc. Worst curry HG ever tasted was at La Coupole, the famous brasserie on Montparnasse in Paris. La Coupole has a magnificent art deco interior but, unfortunately, serves assembly line food. The touted lamb curry was a gristly, tasteless disaster. London is the go to city for Indian food. Loads of cheap Indian cafes and a variety of plush and posh restaurants. The cheap joints are very good and the expensive eateries are a revelation (Chutney Mary is an HG/BSK favorite).

Dukkah is an Egyptian nut and spice blend. Composed of almonds, sesame seeds, fennel seeds, coriander, anise seeds, coarse ground salt. These ingredients are mixed into a pleasant consistency. The result is addictively delicious. It can be found in Middle Eastern groceries. (It is also carried at Trader Joe’s). HG tears off small chunks of Ciabatta bread. Dips them in Sicilian olive oil and then in Dukkah. Great with red or white wine. A favorite HG meal is Dukkah, feta cheese, Kalamata olives, sliced sweet onions and Kumatoes (ripe heirloom tomatoes when they’re in season); anchovies and capers; Greek yogurt. HG adds grated garlic and a splash of olive oil to the yogurt. Dusts it with Zaatar, another sprightly herbal mix from the Middle East. Zaatar is made of ground thyme, sesame seeds, sumac and salt. Not as assertive as Dukkah but equally delicious. Good Lebanese restaurants in London and Paris often pour olive oil on pita bread and then cover it with Zaatar. Though much splendid bread is baked in New Mexico, the pita available is a supermarket product, tasteless and insipid. HG sticks with Ciabatta from Whole Foods.

Aglio e olio, Garlic and oil. Two noble ingredients. Spaghetti aglio e olio is the favored late night dish of Romans following alcoholic carousing in bars and clubs. It is the ultimate bachelor meal — made to eat out the of the pan, over a sink, steaming in a plate while hunched over a book when wife and children are out of the house. HG loves it for lunch, dinner or anytime but breakfast. Like all simple dishes, the best ingredients are key. The garlic should be fresh. The olive oil should be superior (Extra Virgin Sicilian olive oil is HG/BSK’s choice). There should be plenty of chopped (not too fine) Italian flat leaf parsley—some cooked with the oil and garlic and some scattered over the completed dish for aroma and visual decoration. Red chile pepper flakes are essential. HG/BSK like to melt anchovy filets in the sauce for a slightly salty bite. BSK made the dish last night in true Roman style (following suggestions from Mark Bittman, The New York Times food writer). The pasta was linguine instead of spaghetti. BSK sliced a goodly quantity of garlic very thinly. Simmered the garlic, parsley, pepper flakes and anchovy filets in olive oil. (BSK made sure the garlic was cooked through but not browned or burned). BSK removed the pasta from the salted, boiling water before it was quite done and added it to the pan where the sauce was simmering. And, now came the Roman touch. BSK added some starchy pasta water to the pan and began mixing with swooping motions until the pasta was properly al dente and the sauce was the appropriate texture. Served it from the pan after a shower of chopped parsley. Followed it with green salad and cheese. The wine choice was Chianti. Once more, BSK created a perfect meal.

The New Mexico skies are very blue and the sunshine glistens. However, a north wind is blowing and there’s a chill in the air this morning. BSK meets the challenge of unseasonable low temperatures by cooking HG’s favorite breakfast: Cheese grits and poached eggs. The grits are the Geechie Boy brand, down home, stone ground, with true corn flavor. The Geechie Boy grits are a gift from SJ, the Brooklyn gourmand, reggae impresario, barbecue chef, urban poet. Geechie Boy grits are not the instant variety. They take a lot of patient stirring (a quality they share with true Italian polenta). BSK’s poached eggs are state of the art. When the yolk is pierced and the lush yellow mingles with the grits, HG”s appetite scales the heights. It is all reminiscent of a time (many, many decades ago) when little HG (for a brief time) lived in an Athens, Georgia boarding house. A motherly, large African-American woman presided over the kitchen. Her grits, biscuits and red eye gravy with fried ham gave little HG much morning joy. A very happy memory. Well, BSK is not African-American. BSK is Anglo-Irish-Welsh-Canadian. BSK is not a chubby lady. BSK maintains a very svelte form. However, BSK’s cool weather breakfasts have a touch of African-American soul.

A wonderful musical evening at the home of Polly B. and David F. — delightful, life enhancing friends and neighbors. In attendance was guitarist Marc Yaxley and vocalist/percussionist Julie Hawkins who sang and played for the assembled crowd from Tesuque, Jacona and Santa Fe. HG/BSK nibbled excellent cheeses and drank red wine as the beautiful sounds reverberated off the spacious living room’s adobe walls. Yaxley is one of the country’s best guitarists and he showed the instrument’s versatility by playing everything from Spanish and Mexican classics to Charley Parker and Duke Ellington jazz compositions. (Yes, the guitar is capable of illuminating early bebop). An HG neighbor told the food authority he was planning a trip to New York City and wanted to eat in some Greenwich Village eateries that had retained the old bohemian ambiance of the Village. HG recommended two places specializing in Spanish cuisine—El Faro on Horatio Street in the West Village and El Charro on Charles Street. Similar menus–chorizo, paella, seafood in garlicky green sauce. A heavy hand with garlic. Savory pork chops and fried chicken. Platters of saffron rice. Big pitchers of cheap sangria. HG/BSK enjoyed many festive evenings in these joints. When HG returned home from the music, HG looked up these restaurants on the internet because old time dining venues are increasingly vulnerable to the New York real estate monsters. Sadness. El Faro has been closed for some two years. Located in a very old building, El Faro was fighting a losing battle with mice and was shut down by the city’s health inspectors. The good news is that El Charro still flourishes. HG/BSK will round up some family members when next in New York and dine there. Sangria and smiles are anticipated.

Marc Yaxley