HUNGRY GERALD

Thursday was Cinco de Mayo, a major fiesta in Hispanic New Mexico. HG celebrated at El Parasol, the delightful little restaurant on Highway 285 in Pojoaque (six minutes from HG/BSK’s home). HG’s favorite dish there is green chile menudo but, given its high cholesterol level, HG has to limit the intake of this lush treat. So, HG had a big bowl of the home made green chile stew with warm tortillas. Fiery and savory. HG ate on the sunny restaurant terrace with Toby, The Wonder Dog, at HG’s side. Little fellow was much admired by staff and diners. Toby accompanied HG to the bank where he was given a substantial dog biscuit as a Cinco de Mayo treat. The doggy is now a fan of the financial sector. The dinner theme tonight was Japanese/Chinese. BSK sliced a pork tenderloin into thin slices. Further thinned them by putting them between sheets of wax paper and pounding them with a rubber hammer. Now they were ready to become Tonkatsu. BSK dipped the thin little cutlets in beaten egg and panko crumbs. Fried until golden in hot canola oil. Meanwhile, HG made a “Chinese Grandmother’s treat.” Boiled some wide egg noodles. Sauced them with a hot/sweet sauce of green onions, butter, garlic, oyster sauce, Maggi seasoning, brown sugar and a discreet amount of sambal. BSK added crunch to the meal with a salad of sliced fennel and radishes. HG drank Guiness Stout. Perfect quaff with this collaborative effort between HG and BSK.

Last day in St. Pete and the sunburned family checked out of the condo. Hot and sticky day. Headed to Ybor City, the historic section of Tampa which was founded by Cuban immigrants. Once a center of a thriving cigar industry (you can still get hand rolled cigars there), Ybor City is now famous for dining. The main attraction is Columbia Restaurant, the oldest (more than 105 years) continually operating restaurant in Florida. This is a vast restaurant serving Cuban/Spanish food. Good ingredients but a bit heavy handed with salt and chorizo. Very pleasant service. Ordered a pitcher of outstanding sangria. HG had some very generous small plates: Gambas Ajillo (prawns in garlic sauce, good prawns but the sauce was too salty); grilled super tender calamari (simple and perfect); PEI mussels in a broth of tomatoes, sliced chorizo and parsley (excellent mussels whose flavor was blunted by excessive chorizo.) Handsome Haru shared the mussels with HG and pronounced them “awesome.” Given the evidence of the mussels ordered at Columbia and in St. Pete restaurants, PEI mussels have regained their splendor. (Or, are they exporting the winners and keeping the losers at home? We’ll soon find out.) BSK had grilled grouper which she pronounced “best ever.” SJ knocked off a big plate of roast pork. Handsome Haru had a Mojo Chicken sandwich (looked mass produced and not very appetizing). HH wasn’t impressed with the sandwich but happily consumed a virgin mango daiquiri and a big bowl of the house salad mixed table side by a charming young man. Teru, the reigning Princess of Cuteness, devoured a big bowl of mac and cheese. Approved. HG and HH finished with flan. HG and SJ had cups of cafe con leche. Some of the best coffee HG has ever experienced. After the lengthy meal, the group spent hours at the Tampa Aquarium, located in the Port of Tampa. Kids wondered at the sharks and were pleased to pet the sting rays (this is allowed if you use two fingers and pet their backs gently). Long, tiring flight back to Albuquerque. Home after a drive in the rain. The reunion with Toby, The Wonder Dog, was super joyous.

The sun sizzled on St. Pete Beach today but it did not dull the appetites of HG/BSK and family. Brunch at The Frog Pond. Big plates of waffles, pancakes, eggs and grits (best grits ever), quiche, biscuits and gravy. Big culinary departure for HG who usually breakfasts on juice, coffee and oat cereal. Doesn’t eat until dinner. In and out of the warm sea all day. Splashed among the gentle waves with Haru, Teru, SJ and BSK. The essence of innocent fun. Despite the big brunch everyone was ready for some big time eating when the sun went down. Off to Cedars Restaurant in the Seminole neighborhood. Down home Lebanon cuisine. Halal meat. Hookahs on the outdoor tables. Wanted to taste everything so ordered baba ganoush, labneh, feta cheese with chopped tomatoes, hummus, tabouleh, salads. Excellent tastes. Perfect after toasting on the sunny beach. Main dish was kebabs (chicken, beef, ground lamb) on a bed of rice with grilled vegetables and a bowl of tzatsiki. Much, much food. All good, The garlicky chicken and the rare grilled steak were solid winners. Drove back to our vacation condo for salt caramel gelato and (for HG) a nightcap of Jim Beam bourbon. Nice finale to our last beach day. Back to The Land of Enchantment tomorrow. Hope Toby, The Wonder Dog, hasn’t lost his heart to Ina G., the charming jewelry designer, who has been HG/BSK’s temporary house sitter. HG/BSK miss Toby, their feisty, furry little friend.

Perfect beach day. Bright sun. Cloudless blue sky. Modest breeze making the heat comfortable. Inviting sea. Gentle waves and warm water. HG read Hemingway’s book about Paris, A Moveable Feast. Conclusion one: F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ford Madox Ford, Gertrude Stein, Ezra Pound were all certifiably crazy. Conclusion Two: HG admires Hemingway’s prose craftsmanship. His account of a trip with Fitzgerald is brilliant. His generosity toward that troubled man is admirable. Despite that, HG finds Hemingway personally unpalatable–homophobic, ludicrously suspect macho. HG/BSK, Haru, Teru and SJ spent much time carousing in the gentle sea. HG ended the glorious beach day with a soak in the hot tub. HG and family were ravenous after hours of fun. So, it was back to reliable Keegan’s in the Indian Shores neighborhood of St. Pete Beach. Seated immediately. HG had the stupendous sea scallop ceviche washed down with an icy beer, Followed by charbroiled octopus. Best ever. Superlatively tender and full of flavor. SJ had a cup of the creamy She Crab Chowder. The group devoured Prince Edward Island mussels, conch fritters, fried calamari, grouper sandwiches, loads of French fries and cole slaw. HG had a generous platter of warm Gulf shrimp dipped in melted butter and dotted with Keegan’s hot sauce. Finished with hearty gumbo. Wonderful food. Friendly, efficient service. Keegan’s never disappoints.

Dinner at Guppy’s On The Beach Seafood Grill (in the Indian Rocks neighborhood of St. Pete Beach) was an up and down (mostly down) experience. Guppy’s is a large, popular restaurant with outdoor and indoor seating. HG chose indoor (an error). Seated in a bleak air conditioning chilled room. Historic photos on the wall of historic Indian Rocks bathing beauties (in one piece suits) was a nice touch. Ordered a pitcher of sangria. Eeks, horrors!! The restaurant tampered with the classic recipe and added loads of cinnamon (also some cloves). Smelled like a men’s room deodorant with overtones of potpourri in a New England tourist gift shop. Undrinkable. Replaced the witches brew with cold Stella Artois beer. After a lengthy wait HG and SJ were served bowls of hot and spicy fish chowder. Caribbean tastes. Heartening. Twenty minute wait. A bowl of plump, tasty Prince Edward Island mussels in a broth enhanced by tomatoes, greens and garlic finally arrived. Light at the end of a tunnel. Mood became optimistic. A 25 minute wait quenched the happy mood. HG rose to complain. Waitperson said she’d inform management. Rest of the meal arrived in a rush. Strange food. The dishes were over elaborate with too many ingredients on each plate. Festoons of shaved carrots. Slivers of olives. Sauces that did not enhance. Truffled mashed potatoes that tasted chemical. Fried green tomatoes and fried oysters destroyed by heavy breading. Broiled octopus (tender and good quality) that were savory after all the redundant sauce was scraped away. “Lobstercargot” failed. This was a dish served in a traditional escargot plate, little chunks of lobster in a traditional garlic and butter sauce. Something went wrong. Cheese (possibly cream) was added to the sauce. Glop. At end of the meal, very personable manager appeared and removed sangria and chowders from the bill. Apologized for the delays. Consolation for the bad meal was the very modest expense.

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.

During HG’s many years in New York, the greedy fellow managed to eat many scores of hot dogs. The tube steak was an essential food during HG’s financially challenged young years. But, even as HG prospered, the HG appetite for hot dogs remained intense. Favorite venue for the treat was Papaya King on E.86th Street and Third Avenue. Two dogs with mustard and sauerkraut and a Pina Colada drink. Perfect. The Nedick’s chain used to be omnivorous in New York (Its Herald Square location fronting on Macy’s was possibly the busiest hot doggery in the world). The dogs were served on a toasted bun spread with a special mustard relish and accompanied by a very good orange drink. Very inexpensive. The chain disappeared in the 1950’s. The Riese organization tried to revive the brand in 2003. The effort failed. Nathan’s Famous (The original is still located on the Coney Island boardwalk and there are now locations throughout the country) served an exemplary dog. HG, however, rarely ate them but favored Nathan’s clams on the half shell, fried soft shell crab sandwiches and other good things from the sea. Nathan’s sloppy, messy, yummy chow mein sandwich on a hamburger bun, was another HG fave. New York once had many traditional Jewish delicatessens serving good Hebrew National or Isaac Gellis dogs plus “Specials” (Plump, garlicky knockwursts). HG always thought the stands offering Sabrett’s “dirty water” hot dogs were vile. According to SJ, if you want a great dog in downtown New York, go to Katz’s, the pastrami emporium. Though the pastrami may have gone downhill, the hot dog is big time. As for sausage, HG’s favorite was the New York italian pork sausage containing plenty of fennel seeds. Best served from the back of a truck in Greenwich Village. The sausage was laid on a wedge of Italian bread and topped with plentiful fried onions and peppers. All of the many inexpensive “red sauce” Italian restaurants of HG’s youth served savory, abundant platters of sausage and peppers. Accompanied by a side dish of buttered and parmesan dusted ziti and washed down with cheap Chianti from a wicker wrapped bottle, this was hearty affordable eating. New York once had scores of German restaurants dispensing grilled bratwurst with sauerkraut and fried potatoes. The dish was flanked by a big glass of good beer. The best brats were found at Luchow’s on 14th Street and Blue Ribbon in the theater district. Both long closed, alas. When in Paris, HG enjoys boudin noir and boudin blanc. The boudin noir, a blood sausage, is usually accompanied by sautéed apple slices,. A winning combination. HG does not favor the excrement smelling French chitterling sausage. HG considers it a French aberration akin to that nation’s worship of Jerry Lewis and Mickey Rourke.

No, not the vast, chilly region of Russia but the equally frigid and unattractive part of a restaurant where tourists, bad tippers, poorly dressed or unfashionable couples are banished by a maitre d’. HG is very choosy about where HG/BSK are seated in a restaurant. In addition to Siberia, HG does not wish to be seated facing or adjacent to restrooms. Ditto service stations that are sources of clatter and destroyers of conversation. Ditto doors to the kitchen. In winter, HG does not wish to be seated near front doors with their chilling drafts. HG always tries for a larger rather than a smaller table. HG loves the banquettes in many Paris bistros where HG/BSK can be seated side by side and enjoy the animated scene before them. BSK finds HG’s finicky attitude about seating maddening. However, HG persists. That’s because dining out is, in part, a theatrical experience. Ambience and people watching are part of it. So, having the right seat, as in the theater, is essential.

Ahhh…Nostalgia. So wonderful and yet so full of shit. SJ here and I must make a rebuttal against HG’s colorful yet ill informed attack against the New York of now versus the New York of HG’s past. As someone that has lived in New York for the most part of my 47 years (and is living here still), I must say that HG speaks some truths: New York has become painfully expensive for middle class and working class people and really anyone who is not making a high six figure income. And yes, many wonderful New York institutions have closed down as rents increase. And finally, it is true that the essentially secular Jewish character of New York is fading while the religious Chassidic population is rising. These are painful truths for a changing city. But, there are many things that have not changed one iota. HG claims that New York has pushed out Mom and Pop stores in favor of chains. Lies! While big chains have arrived in an unprecedented fashion, New York still remains (for the moment) a place of corner bodegas, grumpy news stands, eccentric hardware stores and family run bakeries, delis and food shops. I live in Carrol Gardens, Brooklyn and I have a shop in Chinatown in Manhattan and in this tiny universe generic chains have barely made a dent (with the exception of Starbucks and the actually welcome addition of Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods). Now onto food….HG makes a claim that New York restaurants have all become ridiculously overpriced and only serve fussy, so-called “creative” small plates that highlight kale. Well, those nostalgic goggles HG is wearing have become so fogged with BS, that he has no clue what he is talking about. (HG! Time to stop reading New York Times restaurant reviews and actually visit and eat!) While there are many trendy, overly precious restaurants (as there were back in HG’s day — remember “continental cuisine” or that rash of horrible hippy bean-sprout “health food” restaurants that propagated in the 70s?), there are also scores and scores of simply great places to eat that are making food that is honest and delicious and actually responsible with their ingredient sourcing and their investment in nose-to-tail eating. On a mainstream level, we now have restaurants that celebrate regional cuisines from Puglianese Italian to top notch Texas style Barbecue to authentic Barcelona style Tapas — a long way from the very good but very one note Italian and Spanish restaurants of yester-year; furthermore, even outside of ethnic enclaves, New York has exploded with amazing Japanese, Korean and other Asian foods. And, if you want to speak of cheap food, well jump on a train to Flushing, to Sunset Park, to Ozone Park or walk into Manhattan’s Chinatown and you will be flush with $4 chorizo tortas, smokey Xian style Chicken skewers for $1, Thai Sausage for $3 and a plethora of inexpensive vittles to make you smile. And yes, the great dairy restaurants of the past have shut down, but guess what? Now there are Uzbeck kosher restaurants popping up all over with delicious grilled meats and wholesome stews; and if you want to be a healthy Jew who eats like IB Singer, well there has never been a better time for vegetarians in this city both with mainstream restaurants and many serious Israeli spots serving hummus, falafal and all sorts of healthy middle eastern treats. Lastly, when it comes to traditional New York food and specifically Jewish food, there is a renaissance happening: Katz’s may have gone downhill (but their hot dog is still something killer!), but Mile End is making some incredible smoked meats; Russ and Daughters and Kossar’s are fully revitalized and thriving, serving up perhaps the best food of their long careers; Barney Greengrass is packed every day of the week and a new generation of bagel makers, smoked fish lovers and matzoh ball soup mavens are opening wonderful restaurants. And with food blogs popping up everywhere old, great NYC restaurants and shops have been given a new life as can be witnessed in the hours long lines for Casa Della Mozzerella on Arthur Avenue or the incredible community support that kept B&H open after a gas explosion totaled their block last year. So HG, SJ is advising that you take a cloth to your nostalgia goggles and take a second look at a New York that, while changing as it always has, remains an idiosyncratic and uniquely great place to live, eat and wander about.

HG is very fond of French restaurants but hates over rich, over composed, exuberantly expensive haute cuisine. HG despises tasting menus that turn meals into marathons and leave HG feeling stuffed and queasy. In France, HG likes simple bourgeois cooking (Found, alas, in a diminishing number of bistros) and brasserie staples like oysters and grillades. (HG/BSK loved the seafood at Le Bocal and Boulingrin during a recent visit to Rheims. In Paris, Le Stella remains a favorite for plateau de fruits de mer and racks of lamb). HG recalls with nostalgia New York of the ’50s, ’60s and ’70s when there were numerous very cheap and very satisfying French bistros. HG was inaugurated into French dining during the World War Two years when HG’s late, beloved sister Beulah Naomi would lunch with adolescent HG at Larre’s in the West 50’s. Very cheap. Fifty cents bought a four course meal (Plus salad). Tables were filled with French teachers and Francophone refugees. HG later learned that a distinguished trio of artists–Marcel Duchamp, Robert Motherwell and Andre Breton–dined there daily. HG and his sister would also eat at the modestly priced Charles a la Pommes Souffle. As the name indicates, the restaurant specialized in delicious crisp and airy potato puffs. They are no longer on New York menus and in very few Paris restaurants. They demand total attention while cooking and are labor intensive. The West 40’s in the Theater District had numerous French bistros. Only one, Chez Napoleon, remains. Happily, it offers true grand mere cuisine including one of HG’s favorite dishes, Cervelles Meuniere–calf brains sautéed in brown butter with capers. During HG’s college days (CCNY–1946-1950) and journalist days (1950-1955) HG confined French dining to the very cheap, very robust bistros on 10th and 11th Avenues in the West 50’s. The ocean liners were still docking on the West Side Piers and these restaurants catered to French, English and Dutch crews. A big meal cost about three dollars and featured lots of innards like liver, kidneys, hearts, gizzards and tete de veau. It was in these rough and ready joints that HG cultivated a taste for dishes not favored by mainstream America. As HG’s finances improved in the mid-’50s and the ’60s, HG favored the delightful (Long closed) Fleur de Lis on West 69th Street (It was here on a hot summer night in 1963 that HG and BSK dined on their wedding night. The temperature was soaring and HG finished dinner smelling like a large garlic clove. Made BSK question her marital choice). During their residency on the Upper West Side, HG/BSK ate frequently (when not consuming Chinese food) at Fleur de LIs. HG’s favorite meal–a dozen escargots, frog legs meuniefre, camembert, creme caramel, red wine–cost about ten dollars. Once a month, HG lunched at what HG considered (and still does) the best French restaurant in the world, Le Pavillon. Curiously, for many years the two best French restaurants were not in France–Le Pavillon in New York and the Connaught Restaurant in London. Henri Soule ran Le Pavillon with Napoleonic imperiousness and rigorous attention to detail. HG’s dining companion was often the late Theodore Kheel, the distinguished lawyer and labor arbitrator. Soule opened the restaurant in 1941. He died in 1966. The restaurant closed in 1971 but it was only a shadow of itself after his death. One of HG’s regrets is that due to pregnancy and other circumstances, BSK never dined at Le Pavillon with HG. Dining at Soule’s with the love of HG’s life would have been a sublime experience.