HUNGRY GERALD

Before leaving Santa Fe for Montreal and Prince Edward Island, HG/BSK (plus visiting granddaughter Arianna R.) enjoyed a super sophisticated warm weather dinner at the downtown condo of David and Mary Jane H. The couple are born and bred Texans. In David’s younger years he quarterbacked the his high school football team to a state championship — quite a feat in that football mad state. It would seem that life would be an anti-climax after that triumph but Dave went on to Yale and a subsequent medical degree. Mary Jane went to Mt. Holyoke College and then practiced family law. Despite knowing of their distinguished education and professional achievements, HG anticipated a dinner of down home Texas vittles — namely barbecued beef and links. Couldn’t have been more wrong. Our aperitif on the patio was Can Feixes, a wonderful Spanish wine. Then came a superb gazpacho — a cool puree of golden and red tomatoes, olive oil, orange juice, cilantro, yellow bell peppers, cilantro, balsamic vinegar and white bread all blended to smooth perfection. Bowls came adorned with fans of sliced avocado. Main dish was Chicken Marbella (from the Silver Palate cookbook). The room temperature chicken had a middle eastern flavor enhanced by prunes, preserved lemon and olives. Delicious. Mary Jane accompanied it with an orzo salad made with zucchini, peppers, red onion, feta cheese, pine nuts and scallions. Dessert was a blackberry mousse flavored with cointreau and orange juice. Not exactly chuck wagon, down by the bunkhouse Texas cooking. Cliches about Texas and Texans were abandoned.

Sometimes the best meals are the spur of the moment, improvised dishes you put together using what’s in the freezer, the refrigerator, the pantry and the kitchen counter (yes, it helps if you have an herb garden). The dishwasher is malfunctioning (repair guy expected soon) so HG and BSK decided to dine out rather than hand wash dishes. But, first…A long swim in the lap pool followed by chilled white wine with a splash of Aperol. Ahh. Rostropovich on the Bose. Sun dappling the trees and cliffs outside the windows. HG and BSK exchanged a glance. Why go out? Why leave heaven? So. A half dozen kumato tomatoes were chopped. Garlic and Italian olive oil sizzled in a pan. Linguine was brought to a proper al dente state. BSK brought back a big handful of herbs (parsley,chives, tarragon, basil, mint) from the BSK garden and chopped them coarsely. From the fridge came some greens which were briskly washed. Plus some fresh mozzarella. It all came together in a big bowl. Sizzling olive oil and garlic were poured over the top. Heavenly aromas. Mixed in the pasta, red pepper, Malden Smoked Sea Salt Flakes and an extra splash of olive oil. Served it with lots of Spanish red wine, a lightly dressed green salad and a bit of Manchego cheese. Great food. Didn’t mind the hand washing a bit.

Okay, Philadelphia Cream Cheese, available in every super market and grocery in the United States, is a dumb cheese. Thoroughly generic, absolutely processed and totally boring; however, HG admits, the cheese has its place. HG likes it with a chunk of guava jelly. Goya produces guava jelly in a big round, flat can. Very cheap. Very good. HG also likes it spread on buttery Ritz crackers (yes, HG likes some proletarian treats) and topped with fiery jalapeno pepper jelly. The best cream cheese ever was produced by the Daitch Dairy stores in The Bronx and Manhattan. Today’s closest approximation can be obtained by mail order from Zingerman’s in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Be forewarned. It’s not cheap.

HG’s adorable daughter in law, Exquisite Maiko, makes the best tempura in the world. Superlatively light, greaseless, flavorful. There are few better things than a bowl of cold soba noodles accompanied by her freshly prepared tempura warm from the wok. Ah, if HG only possessed a genii who could bring EM to New Mexico in a flash. But, in the absence of such a miracle worker HG must prepare his own soba, crisp fry some sole, slice scallions, scissor sheets of nori, steam some shu mai and pork buns. If not up to EM’s lofty standard, these items make a pleasant Asian dinner. HG adds some yakisoba sauce to his soba. Otafuku is the manufacturer of the sauce and HG likes the motto: “Taste That Creates Smiling Eyes.”

HG loves sole. But, like most romantics, HG is often disappointed. The filets at Whole Foods are usually cut too thin to be cooked. They lose firmness and turn to mush. However, HG is nothing if not persistent. Spotted some very fresh looking sole at Whole Foods a day ago. Filets looked reasonably thick. Had earnest discussion with young woman behind fish counter. Pick me a pound of the thickest, said HG (Firmly but courteously). Efficient woman held each filet up for HG’s approval. Bought six beauties. They were dusted with flour and sauteed in very hot grapeseed oil. No more than a minute or so a side. Served with cold soba noodles flavored with Vietnamese fish sauce, stir fried bok choy (with a dab of oyster sauce), bean sprouts (sesame oil and soy sauce). Cooked sole in two batches. Went straight from pan to plate. Very good. Of course, it wasn’t Dover Sole, that princely and pricey fish served at J. Sheekey and other great London seafood restaurants. The Dover Sole at Le Dome in Paris swims in lemony butter and is served with delectable potato puffs. Priced for Russian oligarchs. HG is watching out for Petrale Sole, that excellent fish from California’s Pacific waters. It appears sporadically at Whole Foods. Paragons of Petrale are served at the venerable Tadich Grill in San Francisco.

HG/BSK’s Colorado buddies, Mike R. and Trish L., have left snow packed Crested Butte for a visit to sunny (parched) New Mexico. So, What’s for dinner? HG/BSK decided upon robust food for this robust couple (they ski, ride horses, hunt and probably wrestle bears). A tagliata, steak prepared the Italian way. A thick (one and a half inches) rib steak was marinated for a few hours in some olive oil after being covered in crushed pepper corns, sliced garlic and sprigs of rosemary. The oven was revved up to 450 degrees. A big, black, well used cast iron pan got a light layer of coarse sea salt and was popped into the oven to heat for some 35 minutes (wanted to give the steak a good seared black/brown crust). Steak went into the hot pan and back in the oven for six minutes and then turned for another four minutes of cooking. An important step is to let the meat rest for a good 8 minutes of so before slicing so as to let the natural juices settle. Result was rare and delicious (and, as a bonus, smokeless unlike stove top preparation.) BSK surrounded the sliced meat with arugula enlivened with lemon juice and shavings of parmesan. Served it with penne topped with sauteed oyster mushrooms. Happy carnivores drank lots ot pinot noir and barbera d’alba.

Back in Santa Fe and ready to do some home cooking. Decided upon a dish of Trinidad chicken. If you want to eat out, you can get this spicy treat at Trini-Gul Restaurant in Brooklyn (you can get just about anything culinary in Brooklyn). The dish comes from Trinidad and stems from the collision of Chinese and African-Carib cooking cultures. Chicken pieces (HG and BSK used thighs and wings) are marinated overnight in a mixture of Chinese five-spice powder, dark soy sauce, lime juice, ginger. Fried until mahogany brown in a mix of canola and sesame oils. When served (with rice), the chicken is drenched with a mixture of oyster sauce, lime juice and Matouk’s Soca Hot sauce. (Matouk’s is really sensational. Hot, yes, but filled with winey, fruity flavors. HG bought his bottle through Amazon). BSK stir fried some ultra fresh asparagus to accompany the dish. Icy ale added to the joy. (Sam Sifton had a nice recipe for this dish in the Sunday Times Magazine a few weeks ago).

It is always a delight to dine with HG and BSK’s talented, food and wine loving friends in Vancouver. Pablo R. is a talented modernist architect (and former restaurateur) and his wife, Monica J., is an international lawyer. HG and BSK had never been to their new Gastown apartment, a dwelling they occupy with their 18-month-old daughter. Surprisingly (given Pablo’s cutting edge sense of design), the building turned out to be a rather shabby “heritage” structure. But, when the front door opened you were in a world of contemporary, minimalist design. Startling. It seems the developer retained only the facade of the building (required by neighborhood’s zoning laws) and built an entirely new building behind it. As to be expected, Pablo and Monica’s duplex is a lovely space. For dinner, Pablo prepared a Vancouver specialty — fresh Pacific Black Cod. Pablo marinated the fish in miso before a quick saute. Served with pasta, it was memorable.

There was another remarkable fish dish in HG’s future when HG/BSK dined at Chambar Restaurant with Jamie S. and his glorious lady friend, Karen St. John (pronounced “SinJin” in the English fashion which Anglophiles HG/BSK were pleased to learn). At Chambar, HG had a perfect chunk of halibut cooked with the kind of exquisite timing HG associates with Le Bernardin in New York. Chanbar, which seems to attract Vancouver’s beautiful people, is a great place to drink (as well as eat). HG had a Negroni cocktail which outshone anything HG ever drank at Harry’s Bar in Venice. The Belgian beers and ales on tap are equally outstanding. Before Chambar, HG/BSK, Karen and Jamie, drank some very good white wine at Jamie’s triplex apartment which features his carefully curated collection of Alessi, Starck and other design icons. Jamie’s roof deck is one of Vancouver’s great spaces, overlooking mountains, water and the glittering skyline of the high rise city. Generous and hospitable, Jamie has furnished it for entertaining with an emphasis upon barbecue. A great Vancouver night (when it isn’t raining, of course) is devouring a Jamie steak accompanied by one of the splendid reds from his wine cellar. Sea gulls fly overhead, lights twinkle, Jamie is at hand to refill glasses and uncork another botttle of splendor. Don’t you wish you had a pal like that?

Rain, rain (Why do you think Vancouver is so brilliantly green and floral?) is pouring down and HG and BSK have chosen the perfect moist morning activity: Dim sum at Szechuan Chonquing Restaurant on Commercial Drive. Sharing the feast is Pablo R., the duo’s brilliant young architect friend. No carts here. You order from a menu and everything is deliciously fresh. Dan Dan noodles (a house specialty of noodles in a fiery peanut/sesame sauce) with crisp bits of pork. Har Gow (thin skinned steamed dumplings filled with big, juicy prawns). Shu Mai (super sized pork and shrimp dumplings). Steamed pork buns. Sea scallop rice rolls. Chinese broccoli (abundant garlic). Attentive, courteous service, much hot tea and a ludicrously small bill. Perfect. Food was followed by the Art Spiegelman “CO-MIX” exhibit at the Vancouver Art Gallery. “A Retrospective of Comics, Graphics and Scraps,” confirms Spiegelman as a major artist, creative, humane and subtly (and not no subtly) subversive. Maus: A Survivor’s Tale,” of course, is a modern classic which helped to establish cartooning as a viable method of treating serious material in narrative form. Equally impressive is Spiegelman’s graphic work. His explosive New Yorker Magazine cover (celebrating Valentine’s Day) of a Hassidic Jew and an African-American woman locked in a passionate kiss, is funny, sardonic and politically illuminating. Part of the exhibit is a film documentary of Spiegelman’s life. It is heartening to see that he is an unassuming New Yorker, happily married to Françoise Mouly, the fine French artist, publisher and New Yorker Art Director.

The Public Market on Vancouver’s Granville Island is HG’s favorite market. This is an informed opinion. HG has visited the mind boggling public markets in Tokyo and Kyoto; the market in Florence; the market in Barcelona with its great food bars; the ancient fish and vegetable markets around Venice’s Rialto…and many more. The Granville Island market is the best. As expected, there is fresh fruit and vegetables from the Okanagan and Fraser Valleys; fresh fish and shellfish from the Pacific; meat from the Canadian prairies. But, there is cheese from every part of the world (the lush Winnipeg cream cheese tastes like the Daitch product HG enjoyed during his residence on Manhattan’s Upper West Side years ago). Bread and pastries galore (including definitive versions of Canadian butter tarts). Spices. Hard to find ethnic specialties of all kinds. And, more. Much. much more. HG’s favorite market stall is Oyama Sausage Co.. Here you will find countless varieties of ham, sausage, pates, terrines, rillettes. Plus select cheeses, mustards, pickles and Oyama’s own duck confit. Shopping and strolling in the Public Market always hones the HG/BSK appetites. So…off to Rodney’s Oyster House in the Yaletown neighborhood. HG and BSK dove into a platter of 18 oysters harvested from various Vancouver Island beds. Fresh bread. Sweet butter. A glass of Burrowing Owl Pinot Grigio (Okanagan Valley) for BSK and India Pale Ale for HG. Adding to the bivalve pleasure at Rodney’s is the joie de vivre of the staff. It’s a happy place.

Oyama Sausage Co.