HUNGRY GERALD

Mario Cuomo, who died recently, was a three-term Governor of New York State. He was the greatest orator HG ever heard (Others might give the laurels to Martin Luther King. Both were majestic). The speech Mario Cuomo delivered to the Democratic convention in 1984 was a landmark in political oratory and as relevant today in 2015 as it was more than 30 years ago. In the speech Cuomo challenged the Republican vision of America as “a shining city on a hill.” Cuomo stressed the “hard truth” of another city—one of low pay, helplessness and fear. “A city where there are people who sleep in the city streets, in the gutter, where the glitter doesn’t show.” HG was always sad that Mario Cuomo never ran for the Presidency (even though his admirers continuously advised him to do so). Cuomo wanted Americans to embrace the idea that government could be a force for good. His obituary in The Economist Magazine put it well: “His alternative prescription to Republican frontier individualism which abandoned the poor, elderly and struggling to the side of the trail, was heartfelt Democratic liberalism, calling on Americans to become one community, exercise compassion and recognize that ‘at the heart of the matter we are bound one to another.’ ” Curiously, HG and Cuomo were opponents many decades ago in the Borough of Queens (then a highly contentious political arena, not the astoundingly multi-ethnic community it has become). HG, as public relations counsel to massive real estate interests, and Cuomo as a young lawyer making his first appearance in politics. Cuomo represented community groups in two communities–Corona and Forest Hills–who were battling real estate developers. In Corona, HG and his greedy clients, were demolished by Cuomo. HG shook Cuomo’s hand, expressed admiration and hoped that in the future they would be on the same side. Not to be. They were opponents again in Forest Hills. HG had learned a lesson. HG convinced his clients to accept Cuomo’s adroit compromise.

The Yorkville section of Manhattan (the East 80’s) has gone through many changes. Historically, it had many restaurants serving hearty German food, bakeries specializing in strudel and butchers offering a staggering variety of sausages. Then, during the 1930’s, there was a shift to the dark side when the neighborhood, which housed many Germans, became the center of the Nazi affiliated German-American Bund headed by Fritz Kuhn. The war ended the life of the Bund and the neighborhood once more returned to gemutichkeit and jolly restaurants where HG dined on rollmops (pickled herring wrapped around dill pickles); big, crisp veal schnitzels topped with fried eggs and anchovies; opulent pastries toped with gobs of whipped cream. The real estate developers took over in the 1960’s and Yorkville is now a faceless neighborhood of “luxury” apartments houses. Amid all of the changes one constant has remained: Schaller & Weber. Located since 1937 at 1654 Second Avenue (86th Street), this is the last German butcher shop in Yorkville. It is a splendid institution. Schaller & Weber describes itself as “Masters of Charcuterie.” Accurate description for the delicious treats HG ordered online from them and enjoyed in a lavish choucroute. BSK prepared a pot of sauerkraut enriched by sliced onions, white wine and a touch of olive oil. Lesley R. boiled some tiny potatoes and showered them with chopped dill. Kassler ripchen (smoked pork chops) were warmed in the kraut. Knockwurst, Nurnberger bratwurst, weisswurst were grilled and lightly browned. Six varieties of mustard on the table, Bass Ale. Guinness Stout. White wine. Robiola cheese and grapes for dessert. Limoncello as a digestif. The holiday culinary delights continue.

Hotel breakfast of coffee and raisin bran cereal. Off to Providence on Amtrak with BSK and grandson Haru. Penn Station was jammed but still managed to get ravenous Haru a slice of pepperoni pizza. Leisurely journey with plenty of time to read the New York Times. Arrived in Rhode Island ready for one of Gifted Daughter Lesley R.’s perfect Italian meals. This one didn’t disappoint. Antipasto of roasted peppers, anchovies, olives. Prosciutto and salami. Exceptional bread from Seven Stars Bakery. Perfectly ripe Gorgonzola. A chunk of Torrone candy for dessert. To bed with dreams of Russ & Daughters delicacies, the traditional HG/BSK family Christmas Eve feast, dancing in HG”s food obsessed old head.

This was a day of full time New York fressing for HG. Late awakening after SJ’s rousing Uzbek grand bouffe birthday party. HG/BSK had a Vietnamese brunch at Nam Son on Grand Street. Cha Gio, pork and vegetable spring rolls wrapped in lettuce and mint. Dipped in tangy fish sauce. Some crunchy salads topped with sliced shrimp and shredded chicken. HG/BSK separated. BSK went off to Brooklyn to frolic with grandson Haru and HG stayed at table with a big bowl of exceptional pho topped with tender, raw top sirloin. A pleasant long walk to Soho pausing at shops and galleries. An unexpected encounter. HG was wearing his ankle length Issey Miyake fur collared down coat, an imposing garment. A young, lively bearded chap approached. “That coat! That coat! I must take your picture.” It was Mordechai, the men’s style authority whose blog, Mister Mort, often features colorfully dressed old guys. He and SJ are friends. It was a pleasant coincidence. HG arrived at jam packed Balthazar, the big brasserie that far outperforms the brasseries of Paris. HG was seated with Restaurateur Daughter Victoria and her half brother, Harry Segal, a talented man who much resembles his brilliant, late father, Fred Segal, HG’s one time close friend. Victoria ordered a huge plateau de fruits de mer, a Balthazar specialty. HG couldn’t do it full justice but he did mange to knock off some oysters, crab, clams and shrimp. Plus glasses of the good house Muscadet. After a quick hotel shower, HG was picked up by the SJ family and all were off to Congee Village on Bowery for a dinner of congee with gingko nuts, fried squid; crisp skinned soy chicken; steamed tofu with shrimp, sliced fish, vegetables; pea shoots; crisp Hong Kong noodles. Chinatown cuisine at its best.

The chilly day began with dim sum at aptly named Dim Sum Go Go in Chinatown. In attendance: HG/BSK, SJ, Exquisite Maiko, grand grandkids Haru ands Teru; Restaurateur Daughter Victoria. The big round table was adorned with what seemed to be scores of bamboo steamer baskets filled with delectable morsels. BSK is allergic to crustaceans and Victoria is a vegetarian. Fortunately, Dim Sum Go Go is one of the rare Dim Sum spots that have a wide variety of vegetarian options as well as the standard seafood and pork dishes. There is no better way to begin a New York day than with fresh, hot dim sum. Apres brunch HG/BSK walked to bustling Broadway in Soho for some last minute Christmas shopping at Uniqlo, Lululemon and other wondrous shops. Values galore. Back to the hotel for restoring green tea and the pleasure of the New York Giants and remarkable Beckham performing well on the TV screen. In the evening, SJ’s long time pal, the beautiful and talented Zena B., picked up HG/BSK and they motored off to the depths of Queens, the American Capital of Multi-Ethnicity. Their destination was Cafe Arzu, a kosher Jewish Uzbek restaurant. This was the site of SJ’s eccentric birthday party with a few guests including SJ’s oldest friends (almost brothers) Adam S. and Jon S. (surprise visitor from LA). Decor of Arzu is Soviet Grim. However, the birthday table laden with vodka, beer and red wine enlivened the atmosphere. Customers at Arzu seemed to range from Russian gangsters to pious, bearded Chassidim. All having loud fun. The cuisine of Uzbekistan is, to understate, robust. The SJ birthday group dug into platters of sliced tomatoes, thinly sliced raw onions (lots of chopped dill), very good pickles. There were toasts to the birthday boy. Brief speeches. Much hilarity, Modest inebriation. Platters of food arrived. Juicy meat and pumpkin dumplings. Lagman, a sort of Uzbek ramen containing beef cubes plus addictive, chewy noodles. Arzu specializes in kebabs and these are spectacularly flavorful. The group consumed skewers of lamb, beef, chicken, chicken wings and lamb ribs. The wings and ribs were HG’s favorites and the hungry oldster overindulged. Beloved son SJ is one of life’s originals. No one but SJ would ever arrange an Uzbek birthday party.

Comfy Amtrak travel to New York and HG/BSK arrived at their Lower East Side hotel room for a rousing reunion with SJ, Exquisite Maiko plus the grand grandkids, Haru and Teru. A walk on East Broadway, a bowl of steaming pork and watercress soup at a Chinese eatery, brief nap, a hot shower and off to Vic’s, Restaurateur Daughter Victoria’s new venture in the same space that housed her Five Points restaurant on Great Jones Street in Noho for more than ten years. Vic’s has had much buzz because of ecstatic reviews (mentioned by HG in a previous post). When HG/BSK arrived at Vic’s they were dazzled by the new decor. Simple, Warm. Welcoming. Exposed brick. Flattering light. A ceiling that muffles much noise but allows enough to create a lively atmosphere. Tables and chairs that evoked an elegant farmhouse. And, there was Victoria, looking svelte and fashionable. She joined HG/BSK at a corner table and a perfect meal made stately progress. Chef Hillary Sterling combines imagination, precision, technique with an appreciation for down to earth tastes that evoke Italian countryside trattorias and eateries nestled on Mediterranean beaches. Her first creation HG/BSK enjoyed was a platter of crisp fried sweet onions dusted with parmesan and dried tomatoes. Pure, simple deliciousness that hit all the right notes of salty, sweet and crunchy. This was followed by little neck clams, pistachios, cannelloni beans and lovage in an intense clam broth. The sea theme continued with smoky, juicy grilled sardines adorned with thin shaved curls of baby carrot. The refreshing white wine was put aside and a fruity red was poured as three different pasta tastings were introduced. First, there was the Roman classic, cacio e pepe prepared with pecorino and parmesan. Then there were “little purses” of delicate pasta filled with ricotta, lemon and hazelnuts. The pasta finale: Tortellini filled with potato and guanciale (pork jowl) in a powerful pork brodo that sang of bacony goodness with remarkably none of the grease. There was just enough appetite left for a shared taste of some lush chocolate and snifters of house concocted limoncello (best HG/BSK ever tasted). Vic’s is a happy restaurant.The diners were visibly and audibly having a good time. And, why not? Splendid food, fair prices, pleasant surroundings, attentive service. HG advice: Reserve in advance. Vic’s is hot.

HG/BSK are going east for the traditional feasting and gifting jamboree with their joyous Anglo-Irish-Canadian-American-Italian-Jewish-Japanese family (Quick! Please have eligibles marry an African-American and a Latino so we can complete our Rainbow Coalition). Festivities will start in New York a few days before Christmas where HG/BSK will dine at Vic’s, the much-lauded new restaurant venture of HG’s daughter, Restaurateur Victoria F. Scheduled is a dim sum feast at Dim Sum Go Go in Chinatown with the SJ family (and Victoria). Also on schedule is an Uzbekistan Grand Bouffe in Queens celebrating SJ’s birthday. And, while BSK is doing some last minute shopping, HG will knock off some oysters and wine with Victoria at Balthazar, the brasserie which keeps the old time Paris traditions alive. (Yes, the best Paris brasserie is located in New York). Christmas Eve means the traditional Jewish Feast of the Seven Fishes (courtesy of SJ and Russ & Daughters). And, what surprise will Gifted Daughter Lesley R. spring on Christmas Day? Brisket? Osso buco ? Bollito misto ? Traditional turkey? And, is there a new Rhode Island restaurant to be tried? HG has heard rumors about an Indian restaurant in Bristol. Of course, there is old standby Hemenway’s which serves splendid New England oysters as well as Rhode Island clams on the half shell (best in the world), an HG favorite. Hey, food lovers, are you envious? You should be.

The recent post on HG’s long ago Bar Mitzvah posed a challenge to those unfamiliar with Yiddish pronunciation. The ultimate hazard is the proper way to say ch. No, it is not pronounced like “charm” or “change” or “chance.” Thus, the word bucher is not pronounced similar to Sidney “Bechet” or like “butcher” with the elimination of the “t”. In Yiddish “ch” is a guttural sound. Like clearing your throat. It is the “ch” of challah (the egg bread baked with a distinctive twist and consumed on the Sabbath) and other essential culinary words such as chrain (horseradish, the eternal companion of gefilte fish). The sound is hard to master. Even BSK, a trained actress and perfect elocutionist, took some time to make the sound. Of course, after decades of marriage to HG, BSK’s Yiddish “ch” is as good as that of Molly Picon, the late, great star of the Yiddish musical stage. Many Yiddish words have entered common English usage. The only “ch” word that has gained popularity is chutzpah (nervy, arrogant behavior). HG grew up in a Yiddish speaking home. The language was often combined with English in a colorful conglomerate that could be dubbed “Yinglish.” When HG’s parents discussed topics forbidden to little HG like sex they spoke in Russian. The little fellow thought the language sounded musical.

HG is so proud and delighted. Restaurateur Daughter Victoria Freeman (Cookshop, Hundred Acres, soon to open Rosies’s) has a big hit on her hands. The first review of her new restaurant, Vic’s, just appeared…New York Magazine gave Vic’s four stars calling the food “Big, Bold and Batali-esque.” Read about chef Hillary Sterling’s flavorful dishes and you’ll get ravenously hungry. Make your reservation now before the wait becomes interminable. Vic’s (31 Great Jones Street near Lafayette) replaces Five Points, the pioneering restaurant Vicki and husband/chef Marc Meyer opened 15 years ago. Five Points was one of the first farm-to-table restaurants in New York and its Sunday brunch quickly became a New York legend. Vicki and Marc thought it was time for a change. A redo of the decor, new name, new chef, new menu. Obviously, a very good idea. The name “Vic’s” is a bow to the past. “Vix” was Vicki’s first restaurant. She hired Marc Meyer as the chef. The rest is New York culinary history. HG/BSK will be in New York for pre-Christmas visit. Will dine at Vic’s. Looking forward.

Some 72 years ago (1942), in a Bar Mitzvah ceremony at the Kingsbridge Heights Jewish Center on Eames Place in The Bronx, HG became defined as an adult Jew, qualified to participate in a “minyun” (the minimum number of adult Jews necessary to conduct religious services). The ceremony did not engender religious belief in HG, a confirmed atheist who identifies culturally with the Jewish people. HG’s lack of faith was not the fault of the presiding Rabbi, a man admired by HG. Israel Miller (1913-2002), had just been appointed Rabbi of the congregation and HG was the young, 29-year-old Rabbi’s first Bar Mitzvah ceremony in the synagogue. In the coming years (as a college student and later as a journalist), HG would consult Rabbi Miller on questions of Jewish history, politics, etc. The Rabbi would gently chide HG about his lack of religious observance. Oddly, he never criticized HG’s marriage to the beautiful, gifted, decidedly non-Jewish BSK. Rabbi Miller (who left Kingsbridge Heights Jewish Center in 1968) went on to a distinguished career as a religious writer and scholar and leader of important national and international Jewish organizations. He was particularly close to the Jewish population of South Africa and was a vigorous foe of apartheid. He took time out from his busy schedule to preside over the funeral of HG’s beloved father. Other than working to become a man, HG found some attractive side benefits to his Bar Mitzvah studies. HG would rush to the synagogue for HG’s five p.m. sessions with a stern teacher of Hebrew who would tutor, hector and scold HG in preparation for the Bar Mitzvah. HG would be bruised and scuffed from violent football games on the field hockey turf of the nearby all-girls Walton High School. Upon leaving his lessons, HG would pass a basement room where a group of old men (some luxuriously bearded) would gather daily to study and dispute portions of the Talmud, the multi volume compendium of Jewish law and religious practice. They were a loud and merry crew (their merriment nourished by bottles of whiskey and plates of herring and pumpernickel on the study table). Upon spotting HG they would issue an invitation: “Bar Mitzvah bucher (young man), hub ah brumfen (have an alcoholic drink).” Even then, HG needed little urging. A sturdy shot of Park & Tilford rye with some herring as a chaser. “Nuch ah mul? (once more) was inquired, HG nodded Yes. Another hearty drink. “A shiker!! (drunkard),” laughed the Talmudists. Yes, HG was a bit woozy when he arrived home for dinner and homework. BSK claims, with some justification, that HG continues to overdo pre-dinner alcohol, substituting vodka for the whiskey of yesteryear.