HUNGRY GERALD

There was an omission in HG’s account of cross country American dining. Had a fabulous meal at Hellenic Kouzina in Mechanicsburg, Pa. This is a Greek restaurant and it shouldn’t be missed by any traveler. You walk in, order at the counter, pay the bill. The food arrives in a flash. And…Wow!! Succulent grilled octopus, The most tender and juicy HG has ever encountered. Wonderful spinach pie, Feta and olives. Lamb kebab (served pink as HG suggested). Baba ganoush. Flaming cheese. Warm pita dusted with zaatar. The Greek classics done right. The place is BYOB so HG/BSK were very happy with a bottle of pinot noir picked up at a New Hampshire bargain wine and liquor mart. While staying in Collinsville, Ill. (on the St. Louis/Missouri border), HG/BSK supped on great dry rubbed ribs at Bandana’s BBQ (a good chain with many locations in Mizzou). Splendid cole slaw and fried okra (tasty when dipped in the chain’s hot sauce). The fried corn and baked beans sides were losers. On last day of travel made a repeat visit to Tyler’s Barbecue in Amarillo, Texas. Have raved about this place before. Second visit proved the pit master hasn’t lost his touch. The best brisket ever. The gold standard in smoked meat. Better than New York pastrami. Better than Montreal smoked meat. Heaven on a bun. Amarillo rules!!

The political and racial atmosphere in this country is pure poison. Der Trumper is no longer a bad joke. He could spell the end of the American democracy. Gloomy thoughts as HG/BSK motor across America to New Mexico (a haven of civilization). The only consolation is that America’s road food is surprisingly good. In Augusta, Maine, HG/BSK had a dinner of superior Spinney oysters (big and briny) followed by a good “Oriental” salad of grilled chicken, greens and rice noodles in a peanut sauce. Spent some time in Riverside, R.I. with brilliant and beautiful granddaughter Arianna R. (and her personable companion, Jake, an embryonic chef). Celebrated Ms. Arianna’s birthday and professional triumph with a festive dinner at Chonquing, an unassuming little Chinese restaurant in Seekonk, Mass. Easy to miss in a dreary little strip mall, Chonquing (in HG’s opinion), may be the best Szechuan restaurant in North America. Among other outstanding dishes, HG relished a pot of juicy filets of Mahi Mahi and silky tofu in a bright red chili infused broth. In Dublin, Ohio HG/BSK supped on first rate Indian food at Amul India. Outstanding Chicken tikka, eggplant, dal and tandoori breads. HG/BSK lunch)ed today at a sparkling new Waffle House in Greenfield, Ohio. Pure comfort food for HG: A big bowl of cheese grits topped with two perfectly poached eggs. A nice chicken salad for BSk. (Has it become obvious that BSK loves chicken?) Tonight in Collinsville, Ill. (a few miles east of St.Louis) HG/BSK are looking forward to St. Louis-style dry rub ribs. Report will follow.

Arthur Avenue in the Belmont section of The Bronx is New York’s best venue for Italian food. Besides the big market, there are many adjoining shops: Bakeries, butchers, fish merchants, etc. Discerning SJ often visits to pick up wonderful food for his family. Doesn’t seem to mind the drive from his Brooklyn home. Besides retailers, Arthur Avenue has a number of good restaurants and pizza joints. One of HG’s favorite restaurant is unchanging, eccentric Dominick’s. No menus. No checks. Cash only. No reservations. You eat at long, communal tables in a room devoid of anything that could be termed decor. The waiter asks you:”What do you want to eat?” HG usually responds: “Clams to start” ( delicious platter of Clams Oreganatta is provided). HG has often followed with an oil and garlic spaghetti (to be shared) and a main dish of pork chops or chicken scarpariello (both accompanied by vinegar peppers and hot cherry peppers. The food is hearty, flavorful, authentic. The portions are huge. The prices are moderate (No checks, as HG has noted. The waiter tells you what is owed). No room for dessert. HG ends the meal with a digestif. Arthur Avenue is usually crowded with New Yorkers from all boroughs, local residents, suburbanites and tourists. Lines at Dominick’s can be long so plan on early dining. In a changing world, Dominick’s remains an unchanging stalwart.

Pete Wells, the New York Times restaurant reviewer, goes on and on about restaurant decor. HG couldn’t care less. After all, you can’t eat the curtains. All HG requires in a restaurant (besides good food) is pleasant, not too dim lighting and reasonable soundproofing. Some of HG’s best dining experiences have been in bleak Chinese restaurants, Jewish delicatessens and “dairy” restaurants. HG once had the temerity to suggest some art on the walls of a gloomy (but delicious) “dairy” restaurant on W. 170th Street in The Bronx. The grumpy waiter’s response was appropriate: “If you want pictures, go to a museum. If you want to eat, come here.” Two of HG’s favorite places in New York were the lobby of the Hotel Algonquin and the old Russian Tea Room. The Algonquin lobby had the friendly feel of an old (slightly impoverished) English country house. Carpets and seating upholstery were gently faded. Astute Ben Bodne, the hotel owner, would have replacements professionally distressed so change would not be visible to customers. After Bodne sold the hotel, various “improvements” were made. Last time HG peeked at the lobby it glittered with shiny modernity. The old Russian Tea Room was decorated with haphazard Christmas lights. They shone year round because the owner liked them (and his staff of superannuated ex-Russian ballerina waitpersons). The current RTR boils over with showy opulence and the prices are stratospheric. Progress?

Whenever HG/BSK return to the United States from Europe they are startled by the immense size of many Americans. Lots of overweight people and many cases of morbid obesity. HG links this phenomenon to economics (and, in turn, the preponderance of cheap, processed foods). Exhausted by their jobs (sometimes two jobs) and household duties, many families rely on takeout from the pizza chains and KFC. And, the food is washed down with Coke and other sugary, chemical and caffeine laden soft drinks. HG is always distressed when supermarket shopping to see obese women from lower economic strata wheel carts filled with “snacks”, sugary breakfast cereals like Fruit Loops and, of course, carbonated soft drinks and unhealthy “energy” drinks. Sad. Wave after wave of TV commercials herald the delights of McDonald’s, Wendy’s, Arby’s, KFC, Pizza Hut, Domino’s, Burger King, etc.. All are an assault on the palate and good health. They are vile. HG approves of Chipotle and hopes the company has overcome its recent problems. HG likes Waffle House and its down to earth food. This year HG took a five and a half day auto trip from Santa Fe to Prince Edward Island. Discovered (after research) splendid restaurants minutes from highways traveled by HG/BSK. Finds included Jewish delicatessens, Greek and Cajun cuisine, barbecue (Texas, Louisiana and Mississippi style); seafood. And, of course, honest, tasty burgers cooked in diners. Infinitely better than he crap dished out by the chains.

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.

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.

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.