HUNGRY GERALD

HG/BSK drove into Albuquerque for dinner with old friends. Went to Scalo, a modestly upscale Italian restaurant in the lively, colorful Nob Hill section of town. Nice welcome. Pleasant decor. Acceptable noise level. While waiting for pals, HG looked over the wine by the glass carte and it was outstanding. A good pinot grigio from the Veneto for BSK and a tasty friulano from Friuli for HG. Both modestly priced. That is where the modesty ended however — Scalo serves well prepared, thoughtful food with the biggest problem being portion size. HG’s frito misto starter could have been the main dish for two persons. Slow roasted short ribs served with mushrooms, polenta and frizzled onions was a veritable mountain of meat. HG, a true clean plate ranger, had met his match. The frito misto had made a dent. The short ribs spelled defeat. Unconditional surrender for HG. (HG took solace with some glasses of hearty Montepulciano d’Abruzze). What is it with American restaurants? Who do they think they are feeding? Lumberjacks? Cowhands weary and famished from months on the range? In any case, it made HG long for a Paris bistro meal where portions are civilized, downsized for cultivated, semi-sedentary, and ultimately svelte urbanites.

HG did some chopping and BSK got the woks sizzling. Yes, Chinese food for dinner tonight. Chinese restaurants in Santa Fe are miserable so Chinese dining is strictly DIY. On HG/BSK’s menu was Gong Bao Chicken With Peanuts; String Beans With Ginger and Garlic; and stir fried Spicy Eggplant that used the little Japanese eggplants that are in season right now. Instead of steamed rice, there was a big bowl of room temperature soba with sesame oil and a bit of hot chili. A great meal. Easy to prepare. And cheaper than flying to New York to partake in a Chinese feast in Flushing.

The big food news in Santa Fe has centered around a recent episode of Anthony Bourdain’s Parts Unknown which explored the culture and food of New Mexico. HG/BSK saw the show and thought it unfocused, dull and ultimately failed to convey anything useful about New Mexico or its cuisine. Nevertheless, the show unleashed passions in Santa Fe. Bourdain ate a Frito Pie at the Five and Dime General Store located at Santa Fe’s historic Plaza. At the Five and Dime, a bag of Fritos is opened and gets a scoop of red meat-and-bean chili with a topping of cheese. You can top it with onions and jalapenos from a condiments counter. The F and D has been serving it for decades and folks like it a lot (HG is not a fan). Well, Bourdain tasted it. First, he said holding the warm bag in his hands was like clutching a “colostomy bag.” Then, he said the chili tasted like it came straight out of a can. Fury. Frenzy. Headlines in the Santa Fe New Mexican. The F and D cook swore she made the chile daily from scratch using excellent ingredients. Bourdain backed down, apologized and acknowledged his error. The town is mollified. As for HG, when he wants a Frito pie (which is rarely), HG gets it at El Parasol where it’s made with fiery green chili and served in a proper bowl. The other big news is that Bobcat Bite, the famous hamburger joint, has opened in a new and quite accessible Santa Fe location. Bobcat Bite has been lauded in many national publications as serving possibly the best burger in the USA. Bobcat Bite was, for many years, located in an out-of-the way spot on the edge of town. Hard to find. Then, there was a real estate dispute and BB closed. Sadness. And, then joy. BB has reopened in its better location and the early reviews have been raves. Will try it and post a report.

HG/BSK’s home is set in a historic farming neighborhood bordering a Native American reservation. No garbage pickup. This means a trip to the dump every Sunday. Fortunately, the dump is nearby and is set in a beautiful area of high desert and rolling hills. Makes dumping garbage an aesthetic (almost) treat. HG times the chore as to enjoy a post-dump lunch at El Parasol, the plain spoken, friendly, soulful restaurant dispensing New Mexican treats at its highway location in Pojoaque. Sunday lunch at El Parasol is a treat. The room is jammed with happy Hispanic families, at least three generations at a table. Love for children and respect for elders reverberates. Lots of laughter as kids dig into big bowls of French fries drenched in green chile sauce and melted cheese. The older folk are knocking off immense burritos, enchiladas, tacos, quesadillas plus brimming bowls of menudo, posole and arroz con pollo. Diets? Health food? Cholesterol? As they say in HG’s native Noo Yawk: Fuhgeddaboutit!! There’s no alcohol at El Parasol. The strongest drink is iced tea. So the joy and merriment is solely fueled by family and food. HG worked off lunch with a long swim in HG/BSK’s sun drenched indoor lap pool. Then, off to Santa Fe to see Woody Allen’s “Blue Jasmine,” a very dark movie for a very dark time in the USA. Liked the movie but was annoyed at Allen’s portrayal of ordinary working people. As is inevitable in Allen movies,they come across as crude Neanderthals. A far cry from the working people, New Mexican and otherwise, that HG knows and admires.

HG is ambiguous about Whole Foods. The produce is very good but is madly expensive as is almost everything else in the store. Whole Paycheck, indeed. But, there are values to be found. Whole Foods sources great, and very affordable, chicken. Their bread is very good. And, in landlocked Santa Fe, WF is HG/BSK’s only viable source for seafood. Oddly, it turns out that WF makes very good, robust, fairly priced sandwiches. And, today WF gave HG a very welcome surprise. The hungry old guy moseyed around the Japanese carry-out food section and ordered a bowl of “Spicy Chicken Noodle In Broth.” It was a very big bowl by any standard and filled with cellophane noodles, juicy dark meat chicken, straw mushrooms, baby bok choy, lemon and lemongrass. Slices of jalapeno pepper added heat. The broth had taste and body. The big meal in a bowl was totally hearty and delicious. It cost $7.99. Yes, Exquisite Maiko and fastidious SJ would sneer at this quasi-Japanese dish. But, HG intends to get back to WF at least once a week to slurp down this treat.

The Santa Fe Farmers Market in autumn. Heaven. All the best organic produce: Japanese eggplants, turnips, beets, shishito peppers, tomatoes, radishes, varieties of tiny potatoes, fresh garlic, scallions, cauliflower–and more. Much, much more. Cheese. Bread, Jams, Mustards. Pickles. Herbs. Etc., etc., etc. A virtual cornucopia. HG/BSK bought just picked escarole (this meant escarole and bean soup like that served at Frankie’s Spuntino in Brooklyn), frisee (for the poached egg and bacon salad like that served at Chez Georges in Paris) and a mix of delicate lettuces for mixed green salads. BSK has a deft hand with salad dressings and soups involving greens. Healthy stuff never tastes so good as it does when it gets the BSK touch. The Market air is fragrant with the scent of roasting chiles, the surest sign of autumn in the Land of Enchantment. BSK bought roasted Big Jim peppers (Flavorful but not overwhelmingly, mouth numbing hot. Left those super picante guys for the masochists). The Big Jims went into BSK’s incomparable green chile pork stew. The Market isn’t only about food. People watching at the market is a wildly entertaining past-time. The crowd is diverse: Movie stars (active and retired–hey, there’s Ali McGraw and Shirley McLaine); hipsters and ex-hippies; eccentrics and just plain folks in all sizes and colors smiling and having a good time. There’s music. A perpetual enetertainer is a colorful woman who does the entire Edith Piaf songbook accompanied by a young woman on cello. Also mariachis, jazz, country, folk all take a turn serenading. Happiness reigns.

BSK made a pasta dish last night that was an homage to the memory of Marcella Hazan, the woman who revolutionized Italian cooking in America. As HG noted in a previous post, Marcella introduced Americans to the simplicity and freshness of Italian cooking. With that in mind, BSK glanced at a clump of almost over-ripe tomatoes in a kitchen basket. They had to be used. Like Marcella, BSK respects food and abhors waste. The tomatoes were chopped with fresh basil and parsley. Tossed in a bowl with a goodly pour of Sicilian olive oil. Not cooked but allowed to macerate at room temperature so the flavors of tomatoes, herbs and oil married nicely. This uncooked sauce, heady with garden flavors, was poured over al dente DeCecco fettucine (yes, Marcella would have suggested a thinner pasta). Then, BSK added a creative Greek touch (maybe in memory of the glorious Grecian temples HG/BSK visited in Sicily many years ago): A shower of crumbled feta cheese and slivers of Kalamata olives. Absolutely delicious. Rest in peace, Marcella and thank you for the inspiration.

Yes, the United States is beginning to resemble the middle east these days as intransigent ideologues seem bent on destroying the government. However, here in the historic Jacona/Pojoauque neighborhood of New Mexico {the site of HG/BSK’s oasis) all is calm and peaceful. With Mozart’s chamber music wafting through the open doors, the fortunate duo strolled their green meadows in the early evening sun, admired the changing colors of the trees while sipping cold New Zealand sauvignon blanc. Dinner was a bow to the middle east. Lamb kefta (grilled cigar shaped patties of ground lamb mixed with onion, mint, cumin, garlic). Couscous. Grilled Japanese eggplant. Khrug (a fiery Yemenite/Israeli condiment). Salad of thinly sliced fennel, radish, baby turnip and parsley (all sourced from the Santa Fe Farmers Market). A bowl of Greek yogurt spiked with crushed garlic, olive oil and Spanish smoked paprika. Drank an Italian red, Salice Santino. Anarchy may be on the way but HG/BSK continue to sustain civilization (at least at the dining table).

Back home again in the Land of Enchantment. New Mexico has never looked better. After years of drought, the skies have given up their liquid manna which means the HG/BSK meadow is lush and green and trees are bursting with shimmering leaves. The fish in the pond seem to have had a merry time procreating. Their numbers have tripled and reflecting HG/BSK’s favorable opinion of racial diversity the fish are a virtual Rainbow Coalition: Golden, black, white, striped, pink, etc. There are touches of color in the trees and soon the autumn hues will replace green. It has been a wet summer in HG/BSK’s Santa Fe/Jacona/Pojoaque neighborhood. There has been some flooding in the area but no damage to HG/BSK/s paradise. HG/BSK marked homecoming with long swims in the indoor pool (decorated with BSK paintings) followed by a traditional dinner of pork chops (dusted with adobo), cannelloni beans, fried peppers and onions, mache salad and abundant red wine. Is life good? As they say in the American hinterlands: “You betcha!!”

HG/BSK are lucky. They do not just eat fresh fruit and vegetables. They eat fruit and vegetables so fresh that they have been plucked or dug from the earth only hours (or minutes) before they arrive on the HG/BSK dining table. In New Mexico, HG/BSK live adjacent to “Mister G’s,” one of the state’s most renowned organic farms. Almost daily, the duo pick up lettuces, escarole, kale, radishes and other things that have the scent, bite and succulence of truly fresh produce. On Prince Edward Island, HG/BSK eat tons of freshly picked vegetables including just-dug potatoes, the red PEI earth still clinging to them. The majority of potatoes that are eaten in the US are long stored and sometimes even months old. These freshly dug spuds are a revelation with real texture and a certain mineral tang that is unsurpassed. A simple PEI boiled potato with a pat of butter and a sprinkle of sea salt is a treat. Prince Edward Island is also covered with both wild and farmed strawberries, blueberries and raspberries which you can pick yourself of have them picked for you at a modest additional cost. HG contemplated the joys of freshness last night while enjoying BSK’s stir fry of snow pea pods and garlic scapes (both a few hours old) and bean sprouts (an import from Nova Scotia, alas). BSK enhanced the stir fry with chopped garlic and ginger, soy sauce and a dash of white wine. The dish accompanied HG’s lightly battered and sauteed hake (caught off PEI hours before) plus soba with sesame oil and sriracha. Memorable and very fresh meal.