HUNGRY GERALD

Neighbors got together for a celebratory feast. The place: The beautiful home of Polly B. and David F., a talented, life enhancing couple. Their big kitchen-dining-living room is everyone’s fantasy of Santa Fe. Antique beams and thick adobe walls. A monumental kiva fireplace containing an abundance of blazing logs. Well lit and meticulously placed works of art. The celebration: Polly B., a noteworthy photographer, has faced (with bravery and good humor) eye surgery. Success at last. The beautiful woman can see. An unflattering eye patch has been removed. Good reason to eat, drink and laugh a lot. Present at the celebration were two of Polly’s three daughters, Jennifer (who lives in Beijing) and Leslie (who lives in Washington and Cape Breton Island) plus neighbor Karen K., the film producer who has been dubbed The Dessert Queen by HG because of her genius at crafting sweet things. HG/BSK brought appetizers of chilled prawns (with remoulade sauce) and a spread of smoked salmon. Polly’s daughters grilled salmon and accompanied the moist and flavorful fish with a tangy red pepper sauce, an unusual mushroom risotto and a nicely dressed green salad. There was a good, warmed baguette and a lush cheese course. Needless to say, much Pinot Grigio and Cabernet was drunk (preceded by potato vodka). The feast concluded with Karen K.’s Ile Flottante, HG/BSK’s favorite dessert. Karen K.lived up to her royal soubriquet. Well, that’s life with HG/BSK’s New Mexico neighbors. So, what do your neighbors do (besides playing loud music and arguing loudly) ?

HG was in the mood for a traditional Paris bistro meal last night and, of course, BSK rose to the occasion. The only things missing were the scent of Gitanes cigarettes and a scratchy recording of Edith Piaf in the background. Look at the photo. There are two juicy grilled lamp chops (given a nice rubdown with garlic). Some snow pea pods stir-fried with garlic and ginger (a bow to the Asian influence on modern day bistros). Instead of the traditional pommes frites, BSK served herbaceous, lemony couscous. Decorated the plate with a grilled tomato and some Greek yogurt (always nice with lamb). Yes, a simple plate of big flavors. Typical BSK cuisine. A civilized French meal at home, in a bistro or at a fancy restaurant, is always multi-course. So, HG started with Whole Foods’ surpassingly tasty faux crabmeat salad. Followed the lamb with cheese and mache salad. Ended with a pale but pleasant substitute for creme caramel: Kozy Shack flan. Pinot Grigio with the fake crab. Cabernet with the lamb and the cheese. French brandy with the flan. If someone has to lead the good culinary life, it might as well be HG. (with thanks to BSK).

Blood oranges are one of nature’s blessings. Cut a blood orange in half, eat the pulp, drink the crimson juices and you get a tasty burst of summer energy that is particularly welcome when winter skies are grey and wind is frigid. Blood oranges are a pleasant addition to alcohol. HG squeezes a quarter of an orange into a glass of white wine. Adds ice and a dash of Aperol (or Campari). A nice variation on the classic Venetian “Spritz.” HG often gives vodka the same treatment. With tequila, HG adds half a lime to temper the orange sweetness. Slices of blood orange are the perfect dessert after a Chinese (or Indian) meal. Gifted Daughter Lesley R. makes a sublime polenta cake topped by glazed slices of blood orange. (Gorgeous Granddaughter Solfia delighted the old folks by making a very presentable version of this cake a few weeks ago). FYI: David Lebovitz has a wonderful recipe for this cake on his Sweet Life In Paris blog.

HG must make an admission: Despite the best wife in the world, glorious weather, stirring natural vistas, a beautiful home, interesting neighbors, history, art, culture and an abundance of smoky, lush green chiles HG’s life is incomplete. Why? The great New York/New Jersey Italian fennel sausage is unobtainable in the Land of Enchantment. Yes, Whole Foods, Trader Joe’s, Kaune’s and every supermarket display and purvey “Italian” sausages. “Italian” ? They are as Italian as Mitt Romney. They should be labeled “Mormon” sausages. They lack the fennel seeds and other time honored ingredients that make the New York Italian sausage so juicy, flavorful and memorable. During the opening scenes of the film, “Godfather II”, that wonderful actor/director/playwright/teacher Mike Gazzo (playing Frankie Pietangeli) laments the absence of sausage and peppers in Nevada. Frankie’s woe echoes HG’s. What HG has is memories. Sausage, peppers and onions served on good bread, dispensed from the back of a truck in Greenwich Village. The same dish bought from a cart on Lexington Avenue, eaten while racing to a business appointment. Sausage and peppers at the San Gennaro Festival in Manhattan (years ago when the the Festival was smaller and food was better) and at traditional festivals in the Mott Haven section of The Bronx. Sausage and peppers at old time, cheap restaurants in the Belmont section of The Bronx and in Little Italy (before it became a tourist travesty). There were Italian restaurants in northern New Jersey that made an epic of the dish. Jerry’s in East Rutherford (tragically, closed after many decades of operation) did it best. This is how The New York Times described it in 1998: “Jerry’s combines garlicky, crisp and juicy Chicken Scarpariello (chunks of chicken on the bone) with great fruity rounds of pepper (both hot and sweet), fried onions, crunchy Red Bliss potatoes, and plenty of Jerry’s fennel-scented sausage.” Yes, this expanded plain spoken “sausage and peppers” into a regal feast. This was an enormous platter of food. HG/BSK would dig in, drink a lot of modest Chianti and manage to finish about 60%. Appetizer? Dessert? Fuhgeddabout it !!!

Most people think that peanut butter’s only function is as a companion to jelly in a kiddy sandwich. They are wrong. Peanut butter is one of the great cooking ingredients. It is used in many flavorful African soups and stews (Jambo Cafe , Santa Fe’s very good Afro-Caribbean restaurant, serves a coconut, peanut, chicken stew that is an HG favorite). It is the essential ingredient in many Indonesian and Malaysian dips and salads, often accompanying Satays (skewers of seasoned and grilled meat or chicken). When HG is confronted with left over roast chicken, as HG was last night, HG shreds the meat for a peanut buttery take on the Szechuan favorite, Dan Dan Noodles. HG learned to make it when HG/BSK (then West Side of New York residents) attended the cooking class of Karen Lee. To Karen’s delightful peanut sauce recipe HG added some finely chopped Szechuan preserved vegetables. Laid the shredded chicken on top of a platter of room temperature Chinese rice noodles. Mixed it all with the peanut butter sauce. Topped with sliced scallion and watercress leaves. Sriracha on table for added heat. Gorgeous Granddaughter Sofia (very hungry) returned to New Mexico from Christmas in Rhode Island. Joined HG/BSK in devouring the chicken and noodle dish. Not a smidgen left. Tonight, BSK will season and grill some thin pork cutlets. Serve them with some left over peanut butter sauce (for dipping) and a crisp green salad. Peanut butter rules.

BSK is, to put it simply, a master of chicken cooking. Chicken paillards (skinless, boneless chicken breasts, pounded thin, sautéed gently and served with a lemon-butter-capers sauce). Chicken curry (from the Vij’s cookbook). Chicken cooked with 40 cloves (!!) of garlic. Vietnamese chicken salad with lime juice, fish sauce, scallions, carrot shavings, chiles, etc. All of these dishes, and more, are part of BSK’s cluck-cluck repertoire. But, HG’s favorite is BSK’s roast “spatchcocked” chicken (spatchcocked being a flattened, whole chicken with the backbone removed). BSK marinates the bird in olive oil, garlic, lemon juice and herbs. Cooks it at 400 degrees for forty minutes. A bird from heaven. Crisp, golden skin and juicy meat. That’s what BSK served last night accompanied by sautéed, diced golden beets with onions; braised endive; tiny potatoes. Drank a super Charles and Charles Merlot blend from Washington State’s Walla Walla region. Hearty meal but HG still had some room for a finale of a Kozy Shack Chocolate Pudding (Sneer if you like — it leaves more of Kozy Shack’s Pudding and Flan for HG to enjoy!) and French VSOP Brandy laced with Peychaud’s Bitters.

High in the hills above Santa Fe is a bit of Japanese heaven, Ten Thousand Waves. Offering lodging and a variety of spa services, this meticulously maintained, aesthetically superior resort is inspired by the Ryokans, the country inns in Japan where the knowing go for total relaxation, superior (and locally inspired) dining, cleansing and meditation. Some months ago, Ten Thousand Waves opened a restaurant–Izanami. It is a winner, a can’t miss New Mexico experience. On a snowy day, HG/BSK lunched there with Colorado pals—Margot and Dick Z. Distinguished folks. Margot has been a very important force in the preservation of wildlife and the scenic Colorado landscape. Dick has recently retired from a long and active career as a maxillofacial (relating to the jaws and face) surgeon. They are eminent collectors of Native American art (HG also recalls some extraordinary cacti in their mountain home). Margot not only collects art, she wears it. For lunch at Izanami, Margot arrived in an ankle-length coat fashioned from a beautiful Native American blanket. Lunch was a delight. Izanami, in terms of decor, adheres to the Japanese (and Mies van der Rohe’s) philosophy of “Less is more.” Exquisite lighting. The room is balanced to take advantage of mountain views and the surrounding evergreens. The restaurant is based on japanese Izakaya cuisine — small plates meant to complement beer, Shochu and sake — and the menu is divided into three categories–cold, hot and fried. Since the tapas are easy to share, HG/BSK and the Z’s tried lots of good things–a beet and persimmon salad; potato croquettes, aagedashi tofu, pork belly kakuni, grilled Japanese eggplant, pork tonkatsu. Pleasant, efficient service. BSK and the Z’s opted for a smoky and flavorful green tea. HG indulged the typical HG affection for alcohol with a carafe of chilled Ban Ryu sake. Superb.

New Year Day marks the end of the holiday season thus the end of Holiday Feasting (but not the end of HG’s every day feasting, of course). Watched large, swift violent scholars bash each other about in the college bowl games. Have never quite figured out the connection between the intellectual ambitions of institutions of higher learning and coaches earning multi-million dollar salaries. HG believes the big time college football factories run very profitable athletic/entertainment businesses fueled by billions in TV contracts (as do the NBA and the NFL). The colleges have an advantage over professional sports as their players are unpaid. Since the majority of these athletes seem to be African-Americans, this leads to some uncomfortable speculation about historic parallels; however, for a day, HG put aside these speculations and enjoyed politically incorrect pleasure. Happy that the midwestern scholars from Ohio State, Michigan State and Wisconsin upended their opponents. Oregon is pure show biz in terrms of uniforms and “hurry up” offense and so HG was glad these entertainers triumphed in decisive fashion. HG put aside grid drama and joined BSK and Dessert Queen Karen K. at the home of their neighbors, Polly B. and David F. Gracious hostess Polly B. presented a big platter of Nova Scotia smoked salmon (some of the best HG ever tasted). Polly said this was a gift from “her husband’s widow.” (Figure that one out, Gentle Readers). The group drank some very good champagne and toasted 2015. The smoked salmon was followed by a savory turkey soup, good bread, excellent cheeses, grapes, green salad. Red wine. Apple pie for dessert. Two ice creams–cinnamon and salted caramel. Talented, generous friends and neighbors dining deliciously in Polly and David’s beautiful home. A fire crackling in the Kiva. A joyous way to begin the new year.

This week HG has been eating in Jerusalem (culinarily speaking). Thankfully, HG doesn’t have to be in Jerusalem, because no matter how holy Jerusalem is supposed to be (HG, a non-believer, finds this notion spurious) HG has always identified it as a city with a long history of super bloody violence. Read “Jerusalem: The Biography” by Simon Sebag Montefiore. Wade through 3,000 years of slaughter, madness and fanaticism (much in the name of “faith.”). However, there are two guys who have surmounted the nuttiness of Jerusalem (sensibly, they live in London). The two native Jerusalemites are Yotam Ottllenghi (an Israeli) and Sami Tamimi (an Arab). Business partners, former lovers and proprietors of a number of very successful London restaurants, Yotam and Sami have written a cookbook entitled “Jerusalem.” Illustrated with evocative photographs, the book is a treasure house of savory, enticing recipes. This week, much to the delight of HG/BSK and Gorgeous Granddaughter Sofia, dinner has been pure Jerusalem. First night was “Sweet and Sour Fish.”. Cod was fried lightly and then covered with onions, peppers, tomatoes, vinegar, sugar, olive oil, curry powder and a host of other spices. Heated until cod was cooked through. Served at room temperature. Perfect as an appetizer or main.dish. Next night was “Lamb meatballs with Fava Beans and Lemon.” The cookbook describes these meatballs as “Fresh, sharp and very, very tasty.” Accurate description. BSK served them with couscous which soaked up the lush sauce. Next night: “Turkey & Zucchini Burgers with Green Onion and Cumin.” HG made a sauce of Greek yogurt, sour cream, Aleppo pepper, sea salt, much garlic, olive oil, sumac and zaatar. A blast of taste. So, does the Yotam-Sami partnership and their focus on the magnificent Israeli-Arab food of the city they were raised in hold out hope for amity in Jerusalem? HG’s answer, sadly, is “No.”

Snow was falling last night. Big, wet flakes turned the HG/BSK meadow a glittering white. Temp took a dip. (No fear. Snow rapidly disappears in the high and dry warmth of New Mexican sunshine). Snowfall here means a roaring fireplace, much to drink and comfort food on the table. That’s the way it was when talented pals Polly B. (the brilliant photographer) and David F. (novelist/historian/educator) joined HG/BSK and Gorgeous Granddaughter Sofia for dinner. Flutes of Prosecco (with a dash of Aperol, Venetian style) were sipped as BSK’s latest pots were admired. At the table there was a cold bottle of very good Champagne and a platter of Zabar’s Nova Scotia smoked salmon. This was followed by the paragon of comfort food: Meat loaf. This was no ordinary meat loaf. It was Paul Prudhomme’s Cajun Meat Loaf, loaded with spicy New Orleans flavors. BSK showered it with mushroom sauce and flanked it with BSK’s unique smashed potatoes. Much red wine. Meal ended with Trader Joe’s Salted Caramel Ice Cream and ginger cookies. Good food. Good wine. Good friends. Let it snow, let it snow.