HUNGRY GERALD

Being a born and bred New York guy, HG has always loved a good pastrami sandwich. It is the ultimate urban sandwich — designed for, created and yes, perfected by the Jewish immigrant groups who nestled in tight enclaves like New York’s Lower East Side; all of whom needed a portable meal as they hustled to fulfill their American dream. And, yes, such a treat is still available (with many a regional discrepancy!) from Montreal to New York (most notably at Katz’s) and even across the country in LA (Langer’s). However, HG has discovered his new favorite sandwich at a more pastoral location: Lin’s Takeout in Prince Edward Island. Little more than a trailer, Lin’s is nestled on a bucolic hillside on the road to Greenwich Provincial Park (beautiful beaches, warm water swimming). HG lunches on Lin’s scallop burger. Lin tucks about 15 sweet, gently sauteed sea scallops into a big, soft bun. A slice of tomato. A lettuce leaf. Cole slaw. Touch of mayo. Sometimes greedy HG accompanies this sea treat with crisp, greaseless French fried onion rings.

No smell of asphalt. No car horns blazing. No taxi drivers cursing your mother with a Turkish accent. Just the sun gently shimmering off the waters of St. Peter’s Bay. The joys of a pastoral sandwich…Ahh Life’s good.

Ferran Adria, the owner/chef of El Bulli in Spain, is the most influential chef of his generation. He and his brother have single handedly reinvented the art of cooking and plating food by fusing the methods of science and the aesthetics of post-modern art with traditional culinary strategies. Simply put, Adria’s kitchens are more like laboratories where he experiments with deconstructing food into bubbles, foams, gossamer strands of taste, etc.. His “cook-books” are records of those experiments and are so lushly illustrated and painfully beautiful that they call out for placement on a coffee table far more than a spot in the kitchen. He has been called the father of “molecular gastronomy.” Food critics, other chefs and big time gourmets have raved and genuflected to his name.

HG has had no desire to visit El Bulli (thankfully, since it is astronomically expensive). HG’s tastes are simple, rustic, ethnic. HG may be avant garde in his literary and political thinking, but at the table HG is a conservative (possibly a reactionary). In case you missed it, Mark Bittman did an article in the Sunday NY Times about Adria’s simple down home cooking for his restaurant staff.

One recipe, in particular, struck a chord with HG–Bread With Chocolate and Olive OIl. Here it is: Toast 6 slices of country bread in a 325 degree oven. Toast on both sides (it will take about 6 to 7 minutes). Grate 6 ounces of bittersweet chocolate (preferably 60% cocoa). Cover the toasts with the chocolate. Drizzle the with 1/4 cup olive. Sprinkle with coarse salt.

Now this HG approves of. Calls for a bottle of robust red, no?

Two spectacular Santa Fe women, Sarah N. and Vicki B., took HG to lunch today At Tia Sophia’s, the Mexican restaurant on San Francisco Avenue. Sarah N. had taken umbrage at HG’s comment in a recent post that Santa Fe Mexican bistros were “too touristy.” So she and her co-conspirator taught HG a culinary lesson.

It was a lesson that HG was happy to learn and he swallowed his own words with joy. Tia Sophia’s was a down home wow. HG had a platter of pork green chile, posole, beans and a cheese enchilada. Everything tasted fresh, authentic — delicious layers of un-pretentious Northern New Mexico flavors. HG’s companions had huevos rancheros and enchiladas topped with eggs. Selfish damsels didn’t offer HG a nibble. The cost? Very very modest.

Tia Sophia’s is opposite the Lensic Theater. Come to Santa Fe and enjoy music, performance and drama at this beautifully restored landmark. And, then tear into some Tia Sophia grub for a perfect evening.

When HG and BSK ran their small (but high powered) Denver public relations firm, HG dined almost every day at the Denver location of the Palm steak house chain. This wasn’t just a restaurant. It was a business club where the town’s top lawyers, bankers, politicos, real estate developers, political consultants (and PR guys) gathered to do business, schmooze and network. Kingpin of the room was Steve Farber, lawyer, lobbyist, Democratic Party fund raiser and a guy who was involved in just about everything happening in Colorado. Steve would always stop at HG’s table so he and HG could exchange compliments on the elegance of each other’s garb. Like the original Palm on Second Avenue and 44th Street in New York, the Denver Palm was decorated with caricatures of local notables. There was a nice, flattering caricature of HG in a prominent position. HG always sat beneath it. Impressed potential clients.

There was some good lunch food. Sliced sirloin on a tasty bed of greens. Salmon fillet in a lemon butter sauce. Crab cakes. A traditional Reuben. There was also avoidable, overcooked pasta. And, a surprise (which HG mentioned in an earlier post), excellent little neck clams on the half shell. Haven’t been there in a while and wonder if they’ve painted over HG to make room for a new generation of movers and shakers.

HG was served a dish at “O” Eating House that surpassed, in finesse, creativity and restraint, the best Paris has to offer. (HG has posted frequently about “O” and its chef, the gifted Steven Lemon. “O” is located on Highway 84/285, some 15 minutes drive north of Santa Fe). The delectable dish HG is referring to was composed of six squash blossoms, plated beautifully on a long, slim oval plate. The squash blossoms were stuffed with a mixture of ricotta, sweet corn, pine nuts and tarragon. They were then tempura fried to an ethereal lightness. The blossoms were separated by streaks of pesto and flanked by stewed fresh cherries. Crisp, unctuous, herbaceous, salty, sweet.

A dish that strummed every taste note.

Thank God for Flushing. In that noble Queens neighborhood, cheap rents in the warrens of underground food courts and back alleys allow purveyors of obscure, Chinese regional cuisine the chance to thrive. And if they do in fact thrive the next step is to take their goods to Manhattan’s Chinatown.

Thus, Flushing’s Henan Feng Wei — lauded by heroic restaurant critic Robert Sietsema — recently opened an outpost at 68 Forsyth St named He Nan Flavor. Again, thank you Flushing!

Henan is a northwest province in China and He Nan Flavor celebrates the food found in the night markets of Zhengzhou, the capital city. Forget about typical Cantonese fare, this is a bold stuff that reflects Henan’s Middle Eastern and Sichuan influences.

The first dish I tried was the “Pancake with Pork” which just that — a crispy, griddled hot-cake dotted with sesame seeds and stuffed with anise tinged minced pork and cilantro. Not a bad treat for $2!

Next up was a dish called “Spicy Chicken Hui Mei” which was just remarkable. A huge bowl filled with hand pulled, chewy, wide noodles covered with stewed chicken. These noodles come lathered in a sauce of red chili oil, Sichuan peppercorns, tiger lily bulbs and cumin seeds. It was a taste explosion. While the chili oil added a satisfying burn, the Sichuan peppercorns have a narcotic, numbing effect and great flavor — but it is the earthiness of the cumin seeds layered against those pleasantly chewy noodles and stewed chicken that makes the dish something to dream about on a cold, winter day.

On further visits, I tried the Lamb with Lo Mein Soup — which was those same amazing noodles in a milky broth redolent of lamb and an under tone of anise. Powerfully addictive. I also tried their boiled dumplings which come 15 to an order!!!! No dish here tops out over $6 and it is a generally clean and cheerful place with attentive owners who have a real pride and seem genuinely happy that you have decided to dine with them. On the wall there is a photo of a dish called “Big Tray of Chicken” — I will be back!

HG has long discovered that even the most humble of restaurants (excepting the very worst) have something that they do wonderfully. And, that’s the way it is in Jacona, HG’s New Mexico neighborhood some 15 minutes north of Santa Fe. There’s El Parasol for a wonderfully soothing and earthy menudo. Gabriel’s for the ultimate mixed-at-the-table guacamole. Sopapilla Factory for (you guessed it) sopapillas ( they also do a giant chicken burrito smothered in green chile and a killer bowl of charro beans). All eateries are located on Highway 84/285.

HG never eats New Mexican food in Santa Fe. Too touristy. Santa Fe is HG’s venue for Japanese food: Shohko Cafe for sushi and tempura and Shibumi for Ramen.

On a cross cultural note. Last time HG was in Sopaipilla Factory, HG saw a large gent in a turban, long cloaks, etc, digging into an appetizing and spicy
platter. HG made inquiry. Sikh gent replied: “Tofu carnitas in red chile sauce”).

Have to mention the tasty lunch HG and BSK shared with La Famiglia following the graduation of granddaughter Ms. A., a young woman who has been showered with more than a score of academic awards. The ceremonies under the stately elms of the Moses Brown preparatory school had dignity, style and a certain bit of reserve that is uniquely New England.

Reserved yes. Short, they were not. Suffice it to say, La Famiglia had much appetite by the time all were seated at Hemenway’s, HG’s favorite Providence seafood restaurant. Chilled Muscadet with an array of good things from the sea: fried oysters with a garlicky mayonnaise, Rhode Island’s special fried squid with hot peppers and clams casino. Then, great seafood salads. The very freshest garden greens. Big, plump shrimp. Chunks of Maine lobster. Maryland lump crab meat. Hard boiled eggs and tomato wedges. All were served with a flavorful dressing that didn’t overwhelm the very generous helpings of crustaceans. Tart key lime pie for dessert. HG and party truly feasted on fruits de mer. Clinked glasses and wished enchanting Ms. A. a brilliant future.

Providence, Rhode Island has quietly become one of the great food towns. Lots of great seafood from the Atlantic and Narragansett Bay. The clams — called quahogs in Rhode Island, are unsurpassed. Fried clam bellies. Local oysters. Crabs (soft shells are now in season). Scungili and snail salads are available at many venues. Indeed, the Ocean State lives up to its name (of course, there’s Federal Hill for all of the good things of Italy).

Celebrated Brilliant Granddaughter SR’s 8th grade graduation at the lovely New Rivers Restaurant on the edge of the Brown University campus. World class food. Lots of small plates to start. Smoked trout. Smoked Artic Char. Smoked squid salad. Crunchy falafel, Flavorful tete de veau terrine. Truly an international array. Chilled bottle of Prosecco was perfect for the weather and the smoky appetizers. Mains centered around Berkshire pork and extraordinary fried soft shell crabs nestled on a galette of crispy shoe string potatoes. Wines were an Italian Dolcetto and a California Pinot Noir. Dessert was dense chocolate cake augmented by salted caramel. Nice celebration for SR’s outstanding academic performance.

Went to Lees Chinese Restaurant in Riverside, R.I. with high hopes but was met with grim disappointment. HG was hoping to revisit an old obsession. HG had been informed that Lees featured a Chow Mein sandwich, the oft posted about treat HG had relished for so many years at Nathan’s Famous in New York. This is what HG got at Lees: A large bowl of celery and onion in a gloppy, dark tan sauce thickened beyond recognition by corn starch. A large plate of crispy chow mein noodles and — surprise!! — a heap of French fries. On top of the noodles was a stale hamburger bun. In other words, a do-it -yourself Chow Mein sandwich. Tasted awful.

The pomme frites, however, even though they were an odd ingredient in a purportedly Chinese restaurant, were splendid. Best HG has had in years. Go figure. HG is now officially cured of his Chow Mein sandwich obsession.

You can’t go home again, said Thomas Wolfe. For HG, eating Lee’s Chow Mein sandwich was like encountering an old girl friend much assaulted by time. Not wise to stir up some old memories.