HUNGRY GERALD

The Yiddish word “schmaltz” has entered the American lexicon. It is usually applied to entertainment, meaning corny or over sentimental. Schmaltz, of course, is chicken fat, the basis of much tasty Eastern European Jewish cuisine. When HG was a boy, HG’s Father took the little fellow to clothing shops on the Lower East Side. The shops were owned by friends of HG’s Father and there was much happy Yiddish conversation while little HG was praised for his good looks and intellect. A heavy mackinaw was bought in one place, ear flapped cap in another. Corduroy knickers climaxed the shopping. HG and Father lunched in one of the many “Romanian broilings” restaurants in the neighborhood (Sammy’s Romanian is the last remaining). Dad and son ate “carnezelach” (cigar shaped broiled chopped beef stuffed with chopped onions and garlic accompanied by fried “silver dollar” potatoes. There was a pitcher of chicken fat on the table and was poured generously over the dishes (plus the accompanying sliced raw onions and pumpernickel bread). HG still dreams about those lunches. Chicken fat is versatile. Obligatory with chopped liver. Great with mashed potatoes (or kasha) and fried onions. HG’s Mom added it to “tzimmes”, a long simmered dish of carrots, honey and cinnamon (plus chicken feet which added a gelatinous texture). Some Chinese chefs fry triangles of red pepper in chicken fat and use the peppers to top noodle dishes. Very hard to find chicken fat these days, but quite easy to render at home. Although, in a pinch, you can still find it online from some kosher food suppliers.

The “pletzel” is a soft roll baked with a topping of fried onions. Now hard to find, it was once a staple in New York Jewish bakeries and bread baskets in “dairy” restaurants. They were also served in all of the great cafeterias like Belmore and Dubrow’s. One of HG’s favorite meals was at Belmore: A bowl of egg noodles with pot cheese; a buttered pletzel with lettuce and muenster cheese; many cups of coffee. HG has previously written about the warm gefilte fish at Famous Paramount Dairy Restaurant on W. 72nd Street. HG would dip pletzels in the warm broth (sided with powerful horse radish). Waiters looked on with disdain. They thought the only proper accompaniment for the dish was “challah” (egg bread). Candy store pretzels were another New York staple. They were kept in two containers, one for long, straight pretzels and the other for the traditional twisted shapes. They were the perfect snack when accompanied by an “egg cream”. The “egg cream” was constructed with seltzer, chocolate syrup and milk. (HG is the author of the section on egg creams in The Jewish Encyclopedia). The soft pretzel sold on New York streets was (and is) vile. The soft pretzel (with a squirt of mustard) sold in Philadelphia is delicious.

HG is not a big fan of desserts. Usually prefers to end a meal with a cheese platter and red wine. However, HG recalls with fondness desserts HG enjoyed in New York of yesteryear. Number one, of course, was the hot fudge sundae at Rumpelmayer’s on Central Park South. This was also loved by young SJ and Lesley R. when HG took the youngsters to New York for a “treat day.”. Another great ice cream dessert was the vanilla ice cream ball rolled in toasted coconut. This was served at the Oak Room of the Algonquin Hotel. Other sweet splendors: Frozen banana daiquiris at Fornos; Nesselrode pie at Grand Central Oyster Bar; pots de creme at the Oak Room of the Plaza Hotel; cheesecake at Reuben’s (and Lindy’s); coconut custard pie at the Automat; strudel at Eclair. Ed Berberian’s Balkan-Armenian Restaurant on E. 26 Street served a wonderful middle eastern treat–Baklava with Ekmek. The Ekmek was a cross between ice cream and dense whipped cream. Perfect with the sweet pastry. HG is very fond of Paris bistro desserts: Tarte tatin with plentiful creme fraiche; creme caramel; ice cream (from Berthillon) and ile flottante (the best is at Le Stella). Favorite dessert in London is chestnut puree with whipped cream at Gay Hussar. When HG has a sweets craving on Prince Edward Island (which seems to be often, notes SJ), HG opts for Lebanese halvah or vanilla ice cream with Island maple syrup.

Cloudy day on Prince Edward Island giving HG a needed respite from blazing sun. HG looks like a piece of mahogany furniture topped with a white doily. BSK says HG looks like a negative. HG settled down in an Adirondack chair facing the sea with an entertaining novel: “Spies of the Balkans” by Alan Furst. Set in the Grecian port of Salonika, the time is the early 1940’s. The usual Furst ingredients: A sympathetic hero, some steamy sex interludes, the convoluted world of shifting loyalties. What gives Furst’s spy thrillers their unique qualities are his capacity for meticulous research, great narrative skills and an accumulation of both tiny and telling details which bring the 1930s/1940s settings to life. In the “Balkans” novel, the Greek hero drinks an abundant amount of retsina and ouzo and nibbles on grilled octopus and dolmas. The thought of these foods brought HG back to the early 1960’s when HG/BSK and baby Lesley summered in an old Dutch Hugenot stone house in Highland, New York. These were summers of swimming in HG/BSK’s cold water swimming pool. Meals and music with friends enhanced by much high grade marijuana. HG would commute nightly to Highland via an hour and a half bus ride from the city. When HG had to work late, HG would dine in a Greek restaurant adjacent to the Port Authority Bus Terminal. Orzo with briny feta cheese, olives and anchovies. Then, a delicious Moussaka or Pasticcio (a sort of Greek lasagna) washed down with plentiful retsina. This was varied by lamb kebabs with grilled onions or a fried porgy. In those days HG sported a 60’s era head of very long white hair. On one such evening as HG sipped an ouzo, Mel Brooks was at an adjoining table with a group of friends. Brooks decided that HG was really Boris Thomashefsky, the flamboyant star of the Yiddish stage. Brooks, in Yiddish, questioned HG about his identity. HG replied, in Yiddish, that he was, indeed, the great actor. In the character of Thomashefsky, HG said he often ate at the Greek restaurant when he wasn’t dining at Cafe Royal or Moskowitz & Lupowitz. Much hilarity and many vulgar Yiddish words ensued.

Jamie Oliver, the young English chef and restaurateur, came to fame with a provocatively titled cookbook, “The Naked Chef.” It had nothing to do with nudity (or naturism) but rather cooking with fresh, easy to get ingredients in a simple but savory manner. Since then, Jamie has built an empire. Many restaurants and many more cookbooks. His line of foods are sold in supermarkets throughout Canada. They range from pasta to sauces and sausages and chickens. BSK bought a Jamie Oliver spatchcocked chicken (marinated in lemon juice and spices) at the meat counter of Sobey’s in the Prince Edward Island town of Montague. Very convenient way of getting a good dinner on the table in record time. While BSK roasted the bird, HG made a bowl of smashed PEI potatoes (using SJ’s butter-sour cream-mustard-garlic scapes recipe). BSK steamed a batch of fresh local yellow beans. Handsome Haru acted as sous chef and chopped garlic scapes (received an ample supply from Noel and Yossi Martonovich’s Ocean Mist Farm.) Splendid meal. Haru had a much anticipated root beer float for dessert. It did not live up to his unrealistic expectations. HG was happy with strawberry rhubarb pie (from Montague’s Juice Box restaurant) made a la mode with vanilla ice cream. No overindulgence for BSK. Just red wine and a modest green salad.

Oysters are bred and farmed in a score of Prince Edward Island’s bays and coves. Many delicious varieties. Johnny Flynn’s Colville Bay oysters have shells with a distinctive green tinge. They are super delicious. HG is also addicted to the big, briny Malpeque Bay oysters and an interesting variety farmed in Savage Harbor. HG likes to have an oyster feast of eight Colville Bays followed by four Malpeques and climaxed by four Grilled Malpeques (a BSK specialty) flavored with a bit of melted butter. PEI oyster eating has brought back happy memories of gluttonous lunches at The Oyster Bar in New York’s Grand Central Terminal. During HG’s New York days, HG would lunch there twice or three times a month. (Months that had an “R” in them, of course). HG lunched there alone. Didn’t want witnesses to HG’s overindulgence. The lunch: Six Long Island littleneck clams on the half shell. Six Wellfleet oysters on the half shell. Oyster Pan Roast. Nesselrode pie.(This is a custard pie filled with candied fruits and topped with whipped cream.Disappeared from restaurant menus many years ago. Most contemporary chefs have never heard of it). Ballantine’s IPA Ale. The pan roast is the Oyster Bar’s signature dish. In HG’s day, the mix of oysters, chili sauce,Oyster brine, cream, celery salt and paprika was cooked at the bar (where HG always sat) in a special machine by an experienced Italian chef. The wonder mix was poured into a bowl over a slice of dry toast. Celestial. HG/BSK have a record of failure in trying to duplicate this dish. Can’t recapture that Oyster Bar magic.

Among the splendors of Prince Edward Island are mustard pickles, hand crafted by local women. Tangy, slightly sweet, slightly hot. Utterly delicious. They are the perfect companion to a dish of fish cakes. BSK fried up a batch of cakes last night. Ingredients: Cooked fresh cod and cooked PEI potatoes (spuds only hours out of the red soil); grated Vidalia onion, beaten eggs, bread crumbs and loads of chopped herbs. Lush and moist on the inside. Crisp and golden on the outside. BSK made the meal perfect by stir frying a bunch of sugar snap peas with chopped garlic scapes. While PEI mustard pickles are BSK’s favorite condiment, BSK is also addicted to Bubbie’s Pickles, both sour, garlicky dills and bread and butter slices. (With economy in mind, the lady also knocks off scores of dills from Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s in New Mexico and Sobey’s in PEI.) In HG’s youth, the young man favored sour dills plucked from a barrel in Bronx neighborhood “appetizing” stores. Walking home from school, HG would pick up some (five cents each) for family dinner and as a side for HG’s after school snack: Pumpernickel bread with chicken fat and kosher salt. Properly energized, HG would then be off for an afternoon of sandlot football or baseball. The world’s best kosher dill pickles were sold from outdoor barrels at Guss’ Pickles on Orchard just south of Delancey in the Lower East Side. Alas, gone in the wave of gentrification.

Yes, HG is a great fan of the cocktail hour. In HG’s younger days, 5PM began the imbibing of extra dry gin martinis (known as “icy steelies” or “silver bullets”). HG recalls knocking off three super sized cocktail hour martinis at Michael’s Pub, the Hotel Drake Bar and the Russian Tea Room (in that vodka proud room, 100 proof vodka instead of gin), and remaining upright and in command (relatively) of talking and good manners. The martini diet made HG amorous and led to adventures (good and bad). Dorothy Parker summed up this aspect of martini drinking: “One martini. Two at most. Three, I’m under the table. Four, I’m under the host”. Now in his late 80’s, HG has pushed the cocktail hour to 6PM. Being still in love with BSK, wife of almost 53 years, HG is not adventurous but relishes 6PM cocktail hour with the delightful woman. BSK is a devotee of white wine with a splash of Aperol, ice and a lemon squeeze. HG sticks to stronger drink. PEI distilled Myriad View gin (wonderful botanicals) with Pernod or Campari. Negroni composed of one-third Jack Daniel’s, one third dry vermouth, one third sweet vermouth, lemon juice. Vodka with Campari. Tequila, half and half with dry vermouth, lots of lime juice. 6PM begins sunset over the sea. Since PEI is far north, the sunset drama continues until 10PM. Miles Davis music adds another dimension to alcohol-fueled pleasure. Don’t miss those traditional, abundant martinis.

The urbane writer/artist/gourmet Ludwig Bemelmans (author of the delightful “Madeline” children’s books), once wrote that a good meal helped heal the pain when one was thwarted in love. HG agrees (Based upon personal experience). One of HG’s first romances was in Rockaway Beach when HG was 13. The object of HG’s love was a prematurely shapely young woman (also 13) named Sydelle. HG was a money earner from HG’s earliest days. During the summer, HG earned six dollars a week carrying women’s beach chairs and umbrellas to the beach and returning them at night (Six bucks was a tidy sum 73 years ago). When back in The Bronx (when not playing football or street games) HG would earn tips by carrying the heavy shopping bundles of women to their apartments (Few buildings had elevators in those days so HG developed a sturdy pair of legs). Thus, HG had enough money for a movie and lunch date with Sydelle after the romantic duo had left Rockaway for the regular school year. Sydelle lived in Union City, N.J., a quick bus ride to mid-Manhattan. The date was for a Saturday. The meeting place was the Paramount Theater on Broadway. The time was 10:30 AM. The plan was to see the early show (25 cents admission) replete with a film, live orchestra, singers, comedians. HG mused that the couple would watch the live show and then do serious canoodling during the film. This was to be followed by a spaghetti lunch at Romeo’s on 42nd Street (50 cents for the spaghetti and 20 cents for soft drinks plus a 10 cent tip) and a frozen custard (10 cents) dessert at Grant’s across the street. Sadly, Sydelle never showed up for the date (Later phone call revealed that the vixen had a New Jersey boyfriend). Gloomy HG waited in front of the Paramount for an hour. Gave up and bought the morning papers (Times, Herald-Tribune, News, Mirror). Even at that young age, HG was a devoted fan of newsprint. Walked to a nearby Automat. Sat down to a lavish lunch of beef pot pie, macaroni casserole, baked bean casserole. Coconut custard pie for dessert. No smoking in the Automat so HG left for nearby Hector’s Cafeteria (with newspapers under HG’s arm). Many cups of coffee and numerous cigarettes (Yes, the 13-year-old was in the grip of the nicotine habit. Smoked incessantly for 50 years until rudely interrupted by throat cancer). Read the news, sports sections, theater sections and the many columnists (including the legendary Walter Winchell). Blues were banished and the wound of rejection was healed.

Passover is upon us and HG is filled with memories of the traditional food and drink from the Seders of HG’s youth. The Seder is the traditional meal at the beginning of Passover when the family reads from the Hagadah, a celebration of the escape by the Jews from Egyptian slavery. (HG, in previous posts, has recalled raucous and irreverent Seders of the past). The food most identified with Passover is the matzo, the unleavened bread that sustained the Jews during their hasty exodus. HG’s late Mom always insisted on Streit’s, a matzo baked for decades in antique ovens on Rivington Street in the Lower East Side. Founded in 1915, Streit’s closed its Rivington Street factory in 2015 and moved to New Jersey, ending a 90 year Manhattan history. Wasn’t gentrification. For years, the family turned down numerous offers to sell their property to real estate developers. The old ovens didn’t work anymore and no one knew how to repair them. Mom always insisted on Horowitz-Margareten egg matzos (HG’s favorite). Horowitz-Maragreten disappeared from New York and (along with Goodman’s, another New York matzo company) was bought by the giant Manischewitz company. Manischewitz’s is owned by Bain, the Boston investment firm once headed by Mitt Romney (Oy Vey!!). Schapiro Wine Company was another Rivington Street landmark. Founded by Sam Schapiro in 1899, the company closed its Lower East Side winery in 2000. Had a brief run as a winery in Monticello, N.Y. Schapiro wine was very sweet (loved by HG’s Mom and despised by HG’s Father). Its motto: “Wine So Thick You Can Almost Cut It With A Knife.” The cool, cool Lower East Side is now filled with expensive condos, art galleries, trendy bars and restaurants, cutting edge fashion shops. The only remnants of traditional Jewish eating are Katz’s Delicatessen, Russ & Daughters Appetizing Shop and Cafe, Yonah Shimmel’s knishes and Economy Candy. A bit of happy news. Kossar’s Bagel and Bialy Bakery has re-opened (after closing for a few months) in totally refurbished premises at 367 Grand Street. Traditional products like bialys and pretzels (onion rolls) are still great but there are some aberrations. Apple/cinnamon bialys, alas.