HUNGRY GERALD

The Italian word “misto” means “mixed”. As it relates to food there is bollito misto and frito (fried) misto. Bollito misto is an epic dish for epic gluttons (like HG). HG first encountered the dish at Bologna’s venerable Ristorante Diana, a mirrored old school landmark. HG remembers the meal with salivating fondness. HG started with a bowl of buttery tagiatelle lavishly covered with thin shavings of white truffle. Heady aroma. Sublime taste. Went beautifully with some red Sangiovese from Emilia-Romagna. HG questioned whether the HG appetite could encompass the oncoming bollito misto. Not to worry. A very large, dignified man wheeled a cart to the table; lifted lids from silver servers and presented HG with a stimulating sight: Luscious boiled beef, pork and tongue. Plus two robust poached sausages: cotechino and zampone (stuffed pig’s trotter). Appetite in excellent shape, HG accepted thick slices of each plus helpings of condiments: tangy mostarda di frutta, salsa verde and salsa rosso. Wow. Bollito misto is almost never found on American-Italian menus. Mario Batali once served it at his loftily priced restaurant, Del Posto, but HG noted that it is no longer on the menu. Frito misto, on the other hand, is omnipresent. It is a plate of deep fried seafood morsels with calamari predominating. HG has always found it disappointing (both in Italy and the United States). It is much inferior to Japanese tempura. HG may be spoiled. Here on Prince Edward Island, Exquisite Maiko selects the freshest fish, scallops and shrimp and does her tempura magic. HG’s joy is unrestrained.

Periodically, Exquisite Maiko delights the HG/BSK famille with spectacular tempura. Cod, sole, scallops, haddock and shrimp are given the EM treatment which renders them crisp, light as a gentle breeze and full of flavor without even the slightest hint of grease. These are served with room temperature soba in a broth topped with scallions, slivers of nori and a bit of wasabi. Last night, EM introduced some delightful innovations with the help of PEI’s bountiful summer harvest. Beautiful just-picked eggplant was done two ways: Braised in a sweet and fragrant sauce and as crisp, tempura slices. In addition, EM found some fresh okra and created a dish that would convert even the most dedicated okra hater. Rather than slimey, EM’s okra was firm, room temperature and sauced with a number of subtle and elusive ingredients (EM has her secrets). EM also prepared oyster mushroom tempura and was ready to do even more vegetables–asparagus, onions and zucchini. But, having had copious amounts of the seafood tempura, a halt was requested. EM received applause for her matchless Japanese cuisine.

Calvin Trillin, the brilliant (and funny) writer, once speculated that if Italians, rather than the English, had landed at Plymouth, we would joyously be eating spaghetti carbonara at Thanksgiving instead of his hated turkey. Like Trillin, HG is a lover of this dish which, as legend would have it, was developed after WWII when GI’s stationed in Italy would share bacon and eggs with the hungry populace. It is deceptively simple to prepare: Room temperature eggs are beaten in a warm bowl with plenty of parmesan cheese and crisp cooked bacon (or pancetta, or the cured pig jowl known as guanciale). The dish is topped with abundant ground black pepper and chopped flat leaf parsley. Goes nicely with a rough Italian wine like Montepulciano d’Abruzze. Last week, Gifted daughter Lesley R. did her own variation on this dish. Alongside two different varieties of Prince Edward Island bacon, Lesley R. added sautéed zucchini and fresh fava beans which created the perfect, complementary textures to the classic creaminess of carbonara. Hooray for innovation.

Every summer HG manages to consume many cans of Clamato, the pleasant clam & tomato juice product found in supermarkets. It is the perfect ingredient for a Michelada, the simple, refreshing drink much favored in Mexico. To prepare, mix Clamato with beer. Add lime (or lemon) juice. Hot sauce to taste. Dash of Worcestershire (optional). Pour over ice. If you want to get a little fancy, rim the glass with salt (as you would with a Margarita). There are no rules for proportions (more or less beer, hot sauce etc.). Fashion your individual, hand crafted Michelada however you like. When HG wants a lighter pre-dinner tipple, HG pours a small can of Clamato over ice, adds a shot of vodka plus hot sauce and lemon juice. Voila!! An acceptable Bloody Mary.

Folks who forage for mushrooms are notoriously secretive. When they find a productive mushroom patch they keep the information to themselves. Strangers (and even close friends) find it best not to pry. HG contemplated this as Gifted Daughter Lesley set out to the Prince Edward Island Farmers Market in a quest for mushrooms. She returned with excellent chanterelles and oyster mushrooms as well as supermarket bought shitake and cremini varieties. She sauted these in olive oil with reconstituted Italian porcinis, chopped fresh garlic (plucked from the earth hours before being sold), chopped onions and lots of thyme and sage from the herb garden. This was served over Garafolo (HG’s favorite pasta brand) pappardelle. A true taste of Italy. Ah, if only The Good Fairy of Italian Cuisine had made an appearance and showered the dish with thin shavings of fresh white truffle, HG would have been transported to a heavenly clime. But, as it were, HG made do with second helpings of Lesley’s sublime dish.

This Prince Edward Island summer it has been a pleasure to both watch the preparation (and finally to eat) some of the variety of dishes in the repertoire of Exquisite Maiko. The food is Japanese but not ultra traditional: western influences pop up here and there and EM’s inventiveness adds unique layers to all of her dishes. Suffice it to say, there are many surprises. One night, HG presented EM with a thick filet of salmon. Usually, HG prepares this in the French bistro style–unilateral. That is, sauteing it skin side down without turning. Not EM. First, she cut the salmon into a dozen bite size pieces. (EM is not beguiled by the American practice of serving great haunches of roasted or broiled meat or overly large pieces of fish). The salmon pieces got a quick sizzle in corn oil and were then gently poached (in sake and a tiny bit of soy sauce) on a bed of slivered red peppers, carrots and onions. Accompanying this was a salad of cherry tomatoes and cucumber. What made this salad extraordinary was the play of textures. The cucumber was cut two ways: Into the thinnest spears imaginable and into thicker batons. The cherry tomatoes got a quick plunge into boiling water and were then peeled. It all made a marvelous meal but not easy to duplicate unless you have EM’s knife skills (which resemble those of a surgeon). On another evening, a neighbor presented us with some mackerel pulled from the sea earlier that day. HG had hopes of EM’s incomparable mackerel sashimi and sushi. Didn’t happen. EM examined the fish closely and determined they had been kept in water for too long after the catch. Still very edible but not quite right texturally for raw eating. So, EM fileted the fish, rinsed the filets in cold water and then dried them very carefully in layers of paper towels. They were then grilled for a few moments and served under a cloud of freshly grated daikon radish. Soy sauce and Japanese pepper were added. This was served with a salad which, once more, highlighted EM’s knife skills. First, EM made some super thin crepes made entirely of eggs. These were cut into uniform, matchstick sized pieces. A cucumber and slices of black forest ham also received the matchstick treatment. Transparent noodles were cooked, quickly chilled and rinsed unitl room temperature. (A light dressing of rice vinegar and soy sauce was added). EM placed equal sized mounds of cucumber, ham and egg on the bed of noodles. It made a pretty sight. Among the elements of EM’s approach appreciated by HG is EM’s lack of fear of high cholesterol animal fat. EM recognizes that fat is flavor. And, since animal fat is not found very much in the Japanese diet, EM pulls out all the stops when preparing a dish dependent on a fair amount of fat. This was the case of the oxtail broth/stew EM prepared on a recent stormy, unseasonably cold evening. The broth, long simmered, was clear and punched through with the flavor of black pepper; the surface glimmered with slicks of unctuous fat — just enough to make the broth savory yet not greasy. Of course, the perfectly beefy oxtails were rimmed with a juicy layer of fat. As HG writes this, HG eyes EM across the room: What other wonders does EM have up her kimono sleeve?

Birthday dinner for Gifted Daughter Lesley R. Simple and classic. Two big platters of dozens of Colville Bay oysters (the best in the world, attests Oyster Maven HG), a classic Prince Edward Island treat. Served on the HG/BSK deck overlooking the sea. Late sun. A gentle breeze. Cold beer and white wine. Perfect. Went indoors for steamed lobster. This is how HG does it: Two and 1/2 inches of sea water in a big pot. Bring the water to a boil. Put in the live lobsters. Return to a boil, cover the pot and let the lobsters steam for 18 minutes. Take them out. Let them “settle” to room temperature. Devour. The lobsters were accompanied by freshly made cole slaw and herb-flecked potato salad plus sliced tomatoes and crumbly feta. Before the lobster the birthday group knocked off some first-of-the-season corn on the cob served dripping with butter. Dessert was locally baked butter tarts. Laughter, love and many small gifts for the lovely birthday lady.

When HG was growing up in The Bronx during the Great Depression, nothing was ever wasted. All left over vegetables and their peelings, etc. went into an improvised soup that HG’s mom enriched with meat and chicken scraps and their flavorful bones. Left over fish was chopped with onions and celery (plus Hellman’s Mayonnaise) to become fish salad. Stale challah (egg bread) was used for very good French toast. Stale rye and pumpernickel (White bread of the Wonder and Silvercup variety had no place in Mom’s kitchen) got the roller pin treatment to make breadcrumbs (no food processors in those days). Fruit past its prime was mixed with dried prunes and cinnamon. Then stewed into an acceptable dessert fruit compote. Little HG looked forward to Mom’s treatment of left over boiled (or mashed) potatoes. They were mixed with fried onion and beaten eggs, formed into pancakes, fried to a crisp and devoured (happily) with sour cream and black pepper. Last night, BSK made smashed potatoes — boiled Prince Edward Island potatoes chopped roughly with scallions and hot chicken broth. On this rainy afternoon, HG found the left overs in the fridge. Mixed them with a beaten egg. Formed them into little patties and fried them in corn oil. Dusted them with sea salt and smoked pepper. Greek yogurt accompanied. HG was a kid again.

HG has enjoyed some of the world’s great fish dishes. Sole swimming in fragrant butter at Le Dome in Paris. Perfect grilled Dover sole at J.Sheekey in London. Crisp sauteed Long Island flounder at Esca in New York. Shad and shad roe at two New York landmarks of yesteryear–Christ Cella and Gage & Tollner. Sublime striped bass at the greatest of all seafood restaurants–New York’s Le Bernardin. As good or better than any of these dishes is the sole prepared by HG’s Japanese daughter-in-law, Exquisite Maiko, the talented chef/caterer. HG has enjoyed this EM creation with fish purchased from Whole Foods (Santa Fe); Fairway (Brooklyn) and By The Bay Fish Mart (Prince Edward Island). All splendid but the PEI version is the best since the fish is just hours out of the sea. Here’s how EM does it. First, garlic slices and then shredded, preserved kombu are gently browned to a crisp in canola oil and drained on a paper towel. EM then places the sole in the remaining oil — still fragrant from the garlic and seaweed. Adds sake. Covers the pan and steams over a medium/low flame. When done, the sole is placed on a warmed platter. EM adds soy sauce to the pan with the oil and sake mix. Swirled and reduced slightly, this sauce is poured over the sole. The final touch is topping the dish with the garlic chips and crisped seaweed. As interpreted by EM, this is Japanese cooking at its best. Light. Fragrant. Flavorful. HG/BSK will try to replicate this dish in EM’s absence. Are sure it will be tasty but will lack that special Maiko magic.

The Davis Park/Ocean Ridge section of eastern Fire Island (the long barrier beach south of Long Island,N.Y.) was battered by Hurricane Sandy but survives. Many years ago, HG/BSK had a house there perched atop a sand dune with spectacular views of the Atlantic Ocean on one side and the Great South Bay on the other. The duo plus daughter Lesley and SJ spent every weekend there from late March to early October (BSK and kids were there full time for July and August while HG steamed in New York). Those days were brought back to HG/BSK last night when they dove into some big bowls of BSK’s special linguini in white clam sauce. Weekends on Fire Island featured great food and drink, much appreciated by appetites sharpened by the sun and salt air. Here are some of the memorable dishes served up by HG/BSK’s Fire Island friends and neighbors: Gravlax with a pungent mustard and dill dressing (made by the late Willa Z.). Perfect sirloin steaks grilled in the oven by the late John A. who hated the barbecue with its unreliable levels of heat. The late Glenn F.’s Swedish smorgasbord with a dozen varieties of herring washed down with Aakavit and beer. The 20-dish rijstaffel prepared in a tiny kitchen by two guys whose names HG can’t recall. The Normandy-style steamed mussels prepared by a woman (name also forgotten) who had previously summered in France. The roast lamb that cooked all day over a wood and charcoal fire (supervised by a fellow with an Armenian background). Omelettes and Bloody Marys for brunch at a pretty blonde’s house. Spaghetti Carbonara at (the late) Veronika H.’s. The late Hobby Miller’s community fish fry with corn meal coated filets sizzling in hot oil. The best-of-all fish dishes prepared on the barbecue by the late Catalan sculptor Joan Junyer (friend and compatriot of Picasso) . He would toss whole fish on the barbecue for brief cooking. Then off the grill for a quick de-boning. The firm, juicy and slightly smoky filets got a pour of olive oil and a squeeze of lemon. Magic. (Sorry to describe so many people with the adjective “late” but time and fate are inexorable.) HG and BSK hosted many a great cocktail party on their rear deck with the sun setting over Long Island. With clams HG and BSK (sometimes with the help of SJ and Daughter Lesley) had just plucked from the Great South Bay, HG would prepare clams casino to nosh on while those who stayed for dinner had, naturally, BSK’s signature clams and linguini.

But, one of the most memorable Fire Island meals HG can recall took place in the bleak years before HG met BSK. A large group of Fire Islanders — very much under the influence of prodigious quantities of martinis and marijuana — mused that a meal of great Chinese food would really hit the spot. Good fortune. One of their number was a wealthy, young Chinese guy (tungsten, HG believes, was the source of his fortune). He called his office in New York City and gave some rapid orders in Cantonese. In 90 minutes, a seaplane landed in the Bay. Two Chinese gentlemen emerged carrying huge, metal tureens of duck, lobster, shrimp, fish, pork, beef, bean curd, noodles, vegetables, and more — all from Chinatown’s best restaurant. In moments, the hungry crowd was feasting on their dreams. HG realized then that there are some tangible benefits attached to wealth.