HUNGRY GERALD

Been windy, rainy and cold on Prince Edward Island. Beautiful vistas of whitecaps. Invigorating salt air. But, Br-r-r-r. Big time turnaround today. Sun. Blue skies. Summer time. HG/BSK visited the Charlottetown Farmers Market. Much improved and expanded. Big seafood counter with young guys shucking oysters, making lobster rolls, grilled scallops wrapped in bacon. Lots of other good things including lobster quiche. Of course, The Gouda Lady is selling her incomparable cumin and fenugreek gouda plus other cheeses. The Taylor’s group is doing brisk business selling a variety of grilled sausages topped with mustard relish or fried onions or sauerkraut. BSK picked up some of their organic chopped pork and Black Forest ham. BSK’s favorite veggie man had sugar snap peas, mushrooms and pea shoots. HG stood between two stands. One dispensing Chinese chicken egg rolls and the other freshly made pierogis, stuffed with mashed potatoes and covered in sour cream. A quandary. HG chose the pierogi, the best ever. Then, it was off to the beach in front of HG/BSK’s oceanfront home. Toby, The Wonder Dog, was in ecstasy. He frolicked in the sea, rolled in the sand, checked out the remains of washed up lobsters. Pooch heaven. HG/BSK walked, waded, picked up beach glass for the family’s vast collection. HG absorbed much sun while reading Adam Gopnik, HG’s favorites essayist. Hot shower (outdoors). Vodka and Aperol before dinner (Ma Po Tofu, utilizing Taylor’s pork). Drank splendid Gahan’s PEI ale. After dinner, drank Bagaco, a local marc, while watching the long lingering sunset (it sets until 10 PM) and listening to Scarlatti (as interpreted by Neville Marriner and the St.John’s in the Field chamber orchestra; Jessye Norman; Blossom Dearie. A perfect day.

Years ago HG saw a morbid cartoon of a sad, legless frog propelling himself on a wheeled platform. HG was not amused. That’s because HG loves to eat frog legs. They used to be a cheap and savory dish served in Paris bistros (And, New York West Side eateries catering to seamen). Many New York Italian restaurants served them in a garlic-laden tomato sauce. Fancier joints called the dish “Grenouille a la Provencal.” HG ate scores of the tasty legs in a variety of ways: With tartare sauce; melted butter and lemon juice; with aioli; with black bean sauce in Chinatown. They always satisfied. The flavor is unique, like lean juicy chicken with a smidge of lake or sea waters. Suddenly, frog legs disappeared from menus. They not only disappeared from menus, they are virtually disappearing from our environmentally deteriorating world. Sadly, the frogs are now an endangered species. Thus, they have become prohibitively expensive. So, imagine HG’s delight when he spotted frog legs at the seafood counter of Sobey’s Supermarket in West Royalty, Prince Edward Island. Ridiculously inexpensive. Wary HG ordered only a half pound. As a dinner starter, HG fried the delicacy. HG believes in simplicity. The legs were dusted with a fish fry mix and sizzled in canola oil. When done, HG gave them a hit of sea salt and smoked black pepper. Poured some vodka on the rocks and set to. Yummylissimo!!! These were the best frog legs HG ever ate, plump, juicy and flavorful. HG was curious about their provenance. Thought they might be locally harvested. Called Sobeys the next day. The frog legs had made a long journey from Vietnam without losing their luster. Unhappily, their appearance at Sobey’s is sporadic. The guy at Sobey’s promised to call HG whenever they’re on sale. HG looks forward.

BSK’S younger sister, Noel, and her husband, Yossi, are mighty engines of talent and energy. Prescient BSK advised the couple to explore Prince Edward Island as their retirement home. They fell in love with the gentle, green Island and two years ago bought a five acre property replete with an eccentric farmhouse, a big barn, a small barn, a gazebo, lawns and scores of fruit bearing trees and shrubs (all overgrown). The property is in the Sturgeon/Crapeaux neighborhood on the south shore of PEI, close to the clams of St. Mary’s Harbor and the lovely beaches of Panmure Island. When HG/BSK arrived for dinner at Ocean Mist last night, HG/BSK were astonished. Lawns and shrubs were groomed. Grapevines were abundant. Horseradish and wild asparagus were growing. (The asparagus were served at dinner and were lush). Yossi’s agricultural experience as the manager of the banana plantation at the Israeli kibbutz where he was raised, was put to good use. (That career was interrupted by service as an IDF paratrooper). There were meticulous gardens of herbs and vegetables. Strawberries. Rows of succulent PEI potatoes. All culminating in a recently purchased contiguous 35-acre piece of fertile land now cultivated with timothy and oats for hay. (Noel contemplates converting it to a lavender field in the future). That’s not all. In the big barn are adorable piglets and sheep. Two happy calves in a nearby pasture. Ocean Mist is a self sufficient empire. While Yossi was engaged in agriculture, Noel painted the farmhouse and small barn; emptied the big barn of a ton of rotting hay; built stalls for the animals; knocked down walls in the farmhouse to make the layout more effective. All of this represented hours of hauling, digging, planting, mowing, pruning, carpentry, painting, etc. HG gets tired thinking of it. However (though not youngsters), Noel and Yossi are constructed of steel and industrial wire. Their combined excess fat could fit in a wee teaspoon. They think of the Ocean Mist labor as a lark compared to their endeavor in the mountain foothills of Colorado. There, they spent three years living in one room of a barn (With their two young sons) as they built a spacious log home. (The barn was built first as a home for their family and stalls for a number of horses). The home was built from scratch. The logs were delivered to the site, peeled by Noel and Yossi, cut to size. How they managed to build the home with no electricity and some minor help remains a mystery. It had to be done part time as the duo were supporting themselves with demanding jobs as special education teachers. When HG questioned Noel about building in the harsh, snowy Colorado winters, Noel replied succinctly: “Never again !!”. Dinner last night was pure PEI with a dash of Israel. Appetizers were hummus with great zaatar-speckled pita (Baked by Noel, a talented baker) and cold PEI mussels in a Sriracha mayonnaise (Brought by HG). This was followed by steamed lobsters (Harvested by an Ocean Mist neighbor), sautéed scallops (Also supplied by an Ocean Mist neighbor); PEI potato salad; green salad from the garden; the aforementioned asparagus. Dessert was Canadian butter tarts and pistachio Halvah (The wondrous sweet made in Lebanon and available, surprisingly, in a Montague, PEI, supermarket). As we dined, Noel looked out at the newly purchased field and spoke of buying a bunch of horses and building a horse barn, hay loft and riding ring. Both Noel and Yossi are professional equestrians, trainers and horsemanship teachers. They are also leaders and teachers in the demanding sport of vaulting (Acrobatics atop a horse). It is hard to think of Noel and Yossi without horses. HG/BSK will see what the future of Ocean Mist Farm has in store. HG/BSK left Ocean mist with many gifts: Sea scallops; leg of lamb and lamb chops (from previous livestock). Happy eating lies ahead.

Le Dome, the vintage restaurant in the Montparnasse neighborhood of Paris, serves the best sole dish in the world. It is a Dover Sole, gently sautéed in butter. Deftly filleted by a professional waitperson, doused with a butter/lemon sauce. Accompanied by a mashed potato pancake. The cost? Astronomical. Here on Prince Edward Island, the lovely ladies of By the Bay Fish Mart, supply HG/BSK with fresh Atlantic sole. No, the fish is not Dover Sole. But, thick and firm fillets with a nice taste of the sea. (The Pacific sole fillets HG/BSK buy at Whole Foods when residing in New Mexico, are too thin and have a tendency to disintegrate when steamed or sautéed). Last night, BSK pan steamed a pound of BTB sole, using a technique learned from chef/daughter-in-law Exquisite Maiko (Visit her at the Oni Sauce stand at Brooklyn’s Smorgasburg for superb Japanese fried chicken, beef tataki and other good things). BSK steamed the sole on a bed of bok choy, spinach, ginger, garlic, soy sauce and oyster sauce. Served it with bowls of rice. Wonderful. Next week, HG will give the sole the meuniere treatment. HG will dust the sole with flour. Quick saute the fish in canola oil and butter. Serve it with a sauce of melted butter, capers, lemon juice. Plate it with a boiled PEI potato. A faint echo of Le Dome at a modest price.

Prince Edward Island. At last. Culmination of 2,800 miles of motor travel and well worth it. The moment HG/BSK opened the door of HG/BSK’s home on the sea, the duo were filled with serenity and well being. And, why not? Sun was shining and the sea stretched out to the far off horizon. Gulls. Osprey. Cormorants. Yellow finches. Crows (alas). Plovers on the beach. Delicious, salty air. Nary a sound from the human world. Peace. And, then there was reunion with ladies of By the Bay Fish Mart, owner Sheryll O’Hanley and her efficient aide, Gladys. By the Bay provides HG/BSK (plus family, neighbors, friends and visitors) with months of culinary delight. Last night, HG/BSK dined on pounds of steamed mussels from St. Peters Bay (BSK added a chunk of the Mart’s cod to the savory stew). This was preceded by a dozen lush, briny oysters. HG thought they were from Savage Harbor, the Mart’s usual source, but was informed by Sheryll they were from St. Peters Bay where a new oyster farm is in operation. The mussels were plump and juicy. Paragons. HG/BSK were overjoyed. Last year was a bad year for PEI mussels, Tiny and flavorless. The mussels have made a tasty comeback. Dessert was a Canadian specialty–Pecan Butter Tarts. These are addictive, flavorful and fattening. Hey, seize the day.

HG is referring to the interior of animals (aka offal). Brains, kidneys, livers, sweetbreads, tongue, hearts, intestines, tripe (stomach lining). These wonderful tastes seem to have disappeared from mainstream restaurant menus (as a corollary the interest in “head-to-tail” eating has been growing within the ranks of sophisticated and adventurous eaters). Is it the work of the health police on the alert for elevated cholesterol levels? Or have Americans become so spoiled that offal is seen as a remnant of poverty cuisine? The Europeans (especially the French) continue to devour these good things. When in Paris, HG eats lots of rognons (kidneys) in mustard sauce or grilled until the interiors are pink. A very good Left Bank bistro, La Ribouldinge, makes a specialty of offal. Pharamond serves classic tripes a la mode de Caen (Very good. However, HG prefers the Mexican tripe stew known as Menudo. As noted in many posts, HG is a fan of two versions of Menudo served at restaurants in HG’s New Mexican neighborhood: Green Chile Menudo at El Parasol and Red Chile Menudo at Sopaipilla Factory). HG’s daughter Victoria and husband chef Marc Meyer tried to introduce Menudo to New York diners at their sparkling Mexican restaurant, Rosie’s, in the East Village. Few takers, Removed from menu, alas. Sweetbreads (thymus glands) are on menus everywhere and are one of HG’s favorite treats. Best version ever was at the Oak Room of New York’s venerable Algonquin Hotel. Sauteed sweet breads with a slice of Virginian ham and an exuberant amount of Sauce Bearnaise. Pan broiled medium rare calf’s liver (enlivened with a dash of sherry vinegar) is served in scores of Paris bistros. Delicious. When HG lived in Colorado (first on a mountain horse ranch and then in Denver), HG often had splendid liver with onions and bacon at 240 Union Restaurant in nearby Lakewood. Very Parisian. 240 Union is a great, creative restaurant (A must if you ever travel to Denver or on your way to ski country). HG checked 240’s current menu. No liver. Must have met the same fate as Rosie’s Menudo. In bygone days, liver was a staple item on New York menus. Well done liver, onions and bacon (liver too well done for HG’s taste) on diner menus. Thick slabs of calf’s liver at steak houses. Chopped liver, of course, at Jewish eateries. Broiled chicken livers over saffron rice at Greek restaurants. The Schrafft’s chain, a bastion of WASP cookery, served an appetizing dish of gently sautéed chicken livers over softly scrambled eggs. Sammy’s Romanian, the flourishing homage to garlic and chicken fat Jewish cuisine, once served broiled chicken livers with unborn eggs. The livers are still on the menu but the eggs have disappeared. Only time HG ever had gizzards in New York was when SJ took HG to a little Japanese place on the West Side. Good, But, not as good as the duck gizzards in Paris. Rarely see brains in black butter in New York. Loved it at Le Veau D’or in New York (no longer on the menu but you can get a good version at Chez Napoleon in the theater district). HG ordered the dish at a nice restaurant in Paris 16e. Thoughtful owner was surprised an American ordered brains. Wanted to make sure HG knew what to expect. HG tapped HG’s skull. Owner laughed. Big, savory platter arrived. Tongue is still available at the less than a dozen (used to be a hundred) Jewish delicatessens in New York. Best tongue dish ever was served at long closed Al Cooper’s near New York’s garment center. Thick poached slice with creamed spinach and hot mustard. Sublime. Hearts have disappeared everywhere. Not for the delicate eater. In HG’s impecunious youth, HG ate big bowls of calf hearts stewed with onions, garlic and red wine. Hearty dish (to say the least). A staple at the funky far West Side French bistros that catered to the French seamen off the Ile de France and other liners. A.J. Liebling recounted in his book “Between Meals” that he would eat this dish when he was young and cash poor in Paris. Tete de Veau (calf’s head) is a feature of many French eateries.The dish is shunned by Americans. HG loves it. It consists of poached brains, tongue, mouth lining, etc.and other delectables from the calf’s head. Served with a Sauce Gribiche enlivened with chopped cornichons and capers. (Sauce Gribiche is a version of mayonnaise where mustard, cooked egg yolks and vinegar are emulsified until creamy). HG draws the line when it comes to intestines. Tried chitterlings in Harlem. Vile. The fecal stench of French Andouillette is off putting. (SJ once made the error of ordering them at Le Stella, a favorite Paris brasserie. Was unpleasantly shocked The funny food blogger Grubworm,calls the sausage:’the dish of death”). Innards do not appear on HG/BSK’s dinner table. Though a very adventurous cook and eater, BSK does not like innards. You can take the girl out of the midwest, but you can’t., etc. etc.

A happy time. BSK’s sister, Noel, and brother-in-law, Yossi (plus their amiable dog, Sophie) are with HG/BSK for a New Mexico visit. Much fun and feasting. Spatchcocked chicken; spinach and mushrooms; smashed potatoes; Middle Eastern lamb burgers with “eggplant caviar”, Israeli couscous, yogurt spiced with zaatar and sumac. Plus an Asian dinner featuring Japanese dumplings, Chinese pork buns and Vietnamese pho with chicken and cellophane noodles. N and Y are an interesting duo. Noel (in her late sixties) looks 30. Lean, fit, very strong, sun bronzed. A forthright, direct, scrupulously honest and handsome woman. HG estimates Noel spends about $1.47 a year on beauty aids and apparel. Looks great. Yossi, a bit older, is equally fit and wiry. Both are celebrated equestrians and teachers of equestrian arts. Noel has been a leader in the popularization of vaulting (acrobatics on a swiftly moving horse). Once an obscure activity, vaulting is now a World Equestrian Games sport. They have been married some 46 years. After her third year of college, Noel took a break and traveled to an Israeli kibbutz. Shortly after her arrival, she was startled and shocked when a young American girl resident at the kibbutz had her leg blown off when she stepped on a mine. Welcome to Israel. Yossi was a “sabra,” born on the kibbutz, Shaar Hagolan, located close to the Syrian border and the Golan Heights. Not a serene and peaceful neighborhood. Yossi was in charge of banana cultivation. Noel, with Yossi’s aid, began an equestrian program for handicapped Israeli war veterans as a way of helping restore their confidence and physical skills. Besides his agricultural expertise, Yossi is a paratrooper veteran of the Six Day War and an accomplished trumpeter, singer and choral leader (he had earlier visited the United States as a member of The Grand Musical of Israel). Noel and Yossi married on the shores of the Sea of Galilee and took off on a honeymoon camping trip (with a Uzi assault weapon strapped on Yossi’s shoulder). This was followed by a stay in Tel Aviv and then emigration to the United States (Cincinnati) where Noel completed her college education and went on to receive a Masters in special education. Yossi took graduate courses in music and education. While in Cincinnati, they lived on a farm in Kentucky, a few miles across the Ohio border. While living there, they studied equestrianism under Bill Beckman, a former member of the US Cavalry Demonstration Team. They credit Beckman as being a major influence on their lives and equestrian careers. Yossi and Noel moved to Colorado (Golden Gate Canyon in the foothills between Denver and Black Hawk) where they rented a house on a horse ranch. Yossi was now an accomplished horseman and they combined equestrian training with teaching (Yossi at a Jewish primary school in Denver and Noel in a Golden public school). Some decades ago they decided they wanted a ranch of their own and bought acreage (scenic views) near White Ranch Park (just a few miles below HG/BSK’s Colorado ranch). They then accomplished an impossible, arduous, herculean task. While living in a trailer and then in the saddle and tack room of the barn they built, they constructed, from scratch, a beautiful log home (and then a guest cabin). They peeled logs, hauled them in place, laid a foundation, etc., etc. All of this was done without electricity (for the most part) and two young children, sons Erik and Matthew, to be cared for. And, winter in the Colorado foothills is cold and snowy. It took them three years before they took occupancy of their home. When HG queried Noel about the hardships, she answered with two words: “Never again!!”. Before long their property sprouted into Little Spring Ranch, a renowned center for equestrian training and vaulting (their son, Erik, is a vaulting champion and an equestrian showman in Las Vegas). A year and a half ago Noel and Yossi, (both retired as special education professionals) decided to change their arduous lifestyle. Sold Little Spring Ranch to son Matthew, a forensic engineer, and bought a lushly fertile property near the south shore of Prince Edward Island (just a few miles from Panmure Island). They love PEI (as do HG/BSK) but they are not having a lazy time. Yossi is growing very tasty potatoes (they are a favorite of HG/BSK grandson, Haru) and other vegetables (including a giant pumpkin which won a prize at a PEI provincial fair). Noel is engaged in construction, making their farmhouse comfortable and rebuilding a giant barn. Both (often accompanied by HG/BSK) do productive clamming in the nearby waters. Yossi is a rarity, a truly charming Israeli. Thus, he has made numerous local friends (happily including lobstermen and gatherers of sea scallops). HG, BSK, Y and N enjoy many savory seafood feasts together. During the winter, Y and N hitch up their trailer and tour through the southwest and that’s what brought them to New Mexico on their way back to PEI. Lucky HG/BSK.

Mussels are (or used to be) HG’s favorite food. For almost half the year. HG/BSK live on Prince Edward Island, the delightful Canadian island where the oysters are among the best in the world. Scallops, clams, tuna, cod, hake are also wondrous. (In fact, the tuna is so good that it is often snapped up by Japanese buyers before HG/BSK get a chance to sample). PEI has been most famous for its excellent mussels (they are identified as such at fish counters and restaurants throughout the United States). When on PEI, HG/BSK get their mussels freshly harvested from nearby St. Peters Bay. They should be very good. They are not. Nothing wrong with the taste but the mussels are very small so the great funky joy of mussel eating is lost. (The PEI mussels sold at Whole Foods are both tiny and tasteless). What happened to those big, plump, juicy mussels HG/BSK relished for many years? HG is yet to get a satisfactory answer. If you want to taste great mussels you have to go to Belgium or France. Sad.

HG/BSK are great fans of composed salads. Essentially, composed salads are constructed of greens plus a number of cooked and raw ingredients. Years ago HG tasted a composed salad featured at Jonathan Waxman’s trailblazing restaurant in New York: Jams. This was a salad of garden lettuces dressed with walnut oil and containing warm sautéed mushrooms and walnuts. A lovely, innovative California treat. This past summer, BSK and Lesley R. built a salad of local greens, radicchio, abundant sautéed South Lake scallops, mushrooms, farmers market green peas. A splendid array of seasonal Prince Edward Island ingredients. A worthy contender to HG’s favorite salad, one HG has enjoyed at a number of traditional Paris bistros: Frisee, lardons and a poached egg. Not exactly a salad endorsed by the cardiology police but mighty good. A glass of Brouilly. A baguette. Vive la France!!.

Mimi Sheraton, who is one of HG’s favorite food/restaurant writers (she was the NY Times restaurant critic for many years), once recalled the chow mein she ate in Brooklyn restaurants during her youth: “I still remember the mild soothing taste of that food, primarily the flavors of celery, bean sprouts and onions. It is far removed from the sophisticated (and truly better) Chinese food now fashionable, but there are moments when I would trade six of the best Szechuan meals in town for one plateful of that old chow mein (pronounced ‘sharmane’) nostalgia.”) The quote is from Sheraton’s book, From My Mother’s Kitchen. an indispensable guide to Jewish family cooking. Yes, HG shares her chow mein nostalgia. HG often enjoyed the terribly messy but strangely appealing chow mein sandwiches dispensed by the Nathan’s Famous hot dog emporiums in Coney Island and Manhattan’s Seventh Avenue. Years ago, HG and gourmand companion Charles E., would meet for a stealthy lunch in a dimly lit Sixth Avenue Chinese restaurant. They would devour “combo platters” of chow mein, fried rice and greasy egg rolls. Like illicit lovers, they would leave the restaurant swiftly and furtively to avoid being seen by friends with elevated dining tastes. Yes, nostalgia has a kick: A week or so ago, a ferocious north wind was battering Prince Edward Island. Outside, the windows of HG/BSK’s home revealed a sea topped with a froth of whitecaps. For some obscure reason, the tumultuous weather made HG remember the plain-spoken comfort food HG enjoyed decades ago in New York bar-and-grills, diners and coffee shops: Corned beef and cabbage with boiled potatoes on Third Avenue (when the El rumbled overhead). Open faced pot roast sandwiches drenched in rich brown gravy. Ditto open faced turkey and roast beef sandwiches (accompanied by mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce or insipid vegetables). liver and onions topped with bacon. Salami and eggs served “pancake style.” Spaghetti (never al dente, always overdone) with big meatballs and “red sauce.” A simple “bowl of red”–chili topped with raw onions and grated cheddar. BLT’s on whole wheat toast with loads of mayo. That night BSK and HG devised a PEI dinner that provided comfort: Grilled weissurst (veal) sausages with sweet mustard. Sauerkraut. Boiled local potatoes. Yellow bean salad. Gahan’s PEI ale. There was a fire in the Danish stove and sounds of Mozart. The winds did blow. The sea surged. And HG/BSK (and Toby, The Wonder Dog), were snug in their comfort zone.