HUNGRY GERALD

La Mamounia in the magical, mysterious Moroccan city of Marrakesh, is the best hotel in the world. At least it’s the best hotel HG and BSK ever stayed in. Art Deco deluxe. Don’t take HG’s word for it. It was Winston Churchill’s favorite hotel and he spent happy times painting in the hotel’s lovely gardens. When not rummaging in Marrakech’s souks, bargaining for rugs and inspecting masterpieces of Islamic architecture and garden planning, HG and BSK swam in the vast hotel pool and sun bathed on the comfortable chaise lounges. The pool area was populated by pert young Frenchwomen. Topless, of course. Their nervous husbands paced around puffing on large cigars and conducting staccato conversations on their cell phones. For HG, the charms of the poolside buffet far outshone the French damsels. Inventive Moroccan salads. Grilled lobster and shrimp. Kebabs of tender lamb fragrant with North African spices. Couscous, certainly. And, much,much more.

HG was reminded of all of this by Florence Fabricant’s baked fish recipe in the New York Times food section. The writer had tasted the dish at La Mamounia and gave it a rave. BSK cooked the dish last night and it will become a household perennial. Essentially, some reasonably firm fish fillets (BSK used catfish) are smothered in a variety of spices; showered with garlic, cilantro, flat leaf parsley; doused with olive oil. vinegar and lemon juice. The fish rests on a bed of sliced potatoes and is covered with sliced red peppers, plum tomatoes and kalamata olives. Baked in the oven for some 30 minutes (or less). Super stuff. HG gave his substantial portion a shot of harissa, the Moroccan fiery condiment composed of chile peppers, olive oil and garlic. The lily was gilded.

When BSK was a young actress in New York studying theater with the late greats Lloyd Richards, Lee Strasberg (remember him as Hyman Roth in “Godfather Two”?) and Mike Gazzo (Also in “Godfather Two” as Frank Pentangelli) BSK was particularly adept at “improv” — those acting exercises that are unscripted, spur-of-the-moment improvisations based around general themes or situations. Eventually, BSK left acting behind and had later careers as a photographer, political strategist and government relations expert. Currently, BSK is busily engaged as a potter and painter, turning out extraordinary work in a spacious studio. No matter the career changes, BSK has retained her talent for improvisation. Witness dinner last night. HG and BSK found themselves hungry (surprise, surprise!) and, somehow, the day had gone by with no menu plans and no food shopping. No worries. BSK rummaged in the refrigerator and out came zucchini and some last bits of bacon and pancetta. There was also a heel of goat cheese enriched with jalapeno peppers. Sous chef HG diced garlic. Into a hot pan of olive oil it went with lots of sliced zucchini. BSK sizzled the bacon and pancetta until crisp. Water was put up to boil for pasta (fusili). BSK dashed out to her herb garden for a big bunch of parsley. This was chopped with some kumato (juicy, always ripe brown tomatoes from Mexico). When the zucchini and garlic had softened, the drained pasta went into the pan with the goat cheese (and a bit of pasta water). This created a slightly creamy sauce (with heat from the peppers). BSK stirred in the crispy bacon and pancetta bits. Topped it with the parsley/kumato mix. Green salad and a bottle of Sicilian Nero d’Avolo red wine. Perfect meal. Another starring improv performance from BSK

Yes, salt cod is spelled in different ways in Portugal, Italy, Spain, Brazil, France and other countries where it is enjoyed and appreciated. It needs a good soaking in many changes of water before it can be cooked but that’s time well spent because it is a staple of many wonderful dishes. An HG favorite is Brandade, a puree of salt cod, potatoes, sweet cream and garlic — lots of garlic. HG eats it with slices of garlic rubbed, toasted sourdough bread. Cold Muscadet or Macon-Village Chardonnay is a pleasant accompaniment. HG likes the Brandade at both Balthazar, the busy New York brasserie and Jonathan Waxman’s Barbuto Restaurant in Greenwich Village.

Salt cod has an affinity for garlic. The Provence feast of poached salt cod and vegetables (cooked and raw) is served with an abundance of aioli, a garlic enriched mayonnaise. HG is looking forward this weekend to BSK’s Basque salt cod (cooked with olive oil, white wine, tomatoes, capers, parsley and, of course, garlic). BSK will serve it with her smashed potatoes gilded with Sicilian olive oil. And, to make sure that vampires are kept at bay, HG will make plenty of aioli (HG will add some cayenne for a bit of a bite).

While no garlic was served in the dish, SJ once made HG salivate with a description of an improvised feast in the Blue Mountains of Jamaica consisting of chunks of sat cod and yam roasted over an open fire with a hefty dose of margarine. And in Rome’s Campo Di Fiori there is a busy, little joint that apparently serves salt cod fritters to die for. HG bets there is garlic in those fritters.

In the Italian-Irish-Jewish Bronx nabe where HG was reared, lengths of dried salt cod were displayed like cord wood in every Italian food store. Now you can find it in cute little wooden boxes at the fish counters of supermarkets. Progress: The wooden box salt cod has less bones.

Joy in the HG household. HG has discovered a new pre-dinner cocktail: The Vesper Martini. This has become a favorite in Santa Fe’s hip sipping circles. Here’s how you do it. Fill a shaker with ice. Add one part vodka and one part gin. A modest splash of Lillet (the French, slightly sweet aperitif wine). Pour into a (pre-chilled in the freezer, of course) martini glass. Garnish with a lemon twist. A lovely, lethal drink with a nice French accent.

HG has also made some good, inexpensive wine discoveries. Italy’s Contadino sparkling Pinot Grigio (BSK’s pre-dinner choice) which is wonderful drunk straight or mixed with Aperol in the classic Venetian “Spriss.” Also, Argentina’s Trivento Reserve Malbec tickles the HG palate with a spicy complexity.

After HG’s late afternoon exercise ritual of varied stretches and 45 minutes of swimming in the lap pool, HG tries to mitigate the health benefits he has accrued by diving into a large glass of vodka on the rocks. HG is not a believer in the high priced vodkas. Just hype and advertising. However, HG does enhance his proletarian vodka. Sometimes HG adds a dash of Angostura Bitters or Peychaud Bitters or Fee Brothers West Indian Orange Bitters. (A dash of Peychaud also enhances a mediocre brandy). When HG wants a taller beverage, HG mixes vodka with a bit of Campari, Aperol or St. Germain. (HG does not fancy vodka and tonic). Curiously, vodka was never present in the Belorussian/Jewish immigrant home of HG’s youth. Like many Jewish immigrants of the early 1900’s, HG’s Dad fancied rye whiskey, namely Park & Tilford (pronounced “Pok un Tilfeh”), the favorite tipple in Lower East Side bars. When HG was a journalist in the early 1950’s, HG continued the Park & Tilford tradition at the Mirror Bar on New York’s E. 45th Street. Three shots of P & T for one buck. The house bought the fourth. A nice cocktail interlude.

A weekend visit from the Family C. Ah, the C’s. Anthony. An Englishman of aristocratic lineage; striking, distinguished good looks. Makes the Earl in Downton Abbey look like an ill-bred commoner. Anthony works in finance and is a specialist in everything Asian. Wife Claudia, journalist, radio personality, a woman of boundless vivacity and a bubbling fountain of information and outrageous, over the top commentary and observation. Son Toby, a musical talent and a quietly attractive, observant young man with gracious manners. (Other C progeny are busy in Boston and England).

Anthony is a car nut — an obsessive collector of swift and beautiful automobiles. Anthony and Claudia arrived at the HG/BSK compound in a jewel of the C collection — an eight year old Aston-Martin convertible lined in lush, creamy Scottish leather. At one point in the weekend, Anthony took HG for a spin on the scenic high road to Taos. With Anthony at the wheel, the Aston-Martin made a sound like the roaring of a pride of lions as it effortlessly passed cars on the winding, steep road. Unforgettable.

Since the C’s will soon be leaving the USA to take up residence in Singapore, it seemed appropriate to send them off with a celebratory southwestern dinner. First, there was some martini and Prosecco drinking under the pergola facing the HG/BSK fish pond (Kindly note the C’s never visit empty handed — this time they bore champagne, excellent wine and a bottle of Bombay Sapphire gin). Then, a feast of slow roasted, spice rubbed pork butt. Bowls of BSK’s pico de gallo (chopped tomatoes, onions, cilantro, hot and sweet peppers); BSK green chile sauce (magic); BSK stir fry of zucchini,onion, garlic and sweet corn); navy beans enriched with Goya Sofrito. A platter of sliced avocado. A mound of warmed tortillas. Much cold beer and Malbec red wine. For dessert: An array of Ben and Jerry’s best. A happy time.

The presiding genius of this meal was SJ. The piggy expert recommended larding the butts with plenty of garlic slivers and giving them a dry rub with abundant amounts of adobo, English dry mustard powder, New Mexican red chili powder, Mexican oregano and Spanish smoked paprika — a true international blend of spices the day before cooking them. Then, a slow roast, in a tin-foil covered pan for 4 hours at 275 degrees, finishing by removing foil and raising heat to 325 for an hour. An SJ recipe winner. A happy, exubrant meal and a bittersweet farewell to the C’s. Silver lining. HG and BSK have promised to visit Singapore early next year to join with the C’s in celebrating Chinese New Year by feasting on Singapore’s mind bending cuisine.

Lambrusco is a lightly sparkling wine much identified with the Emilia Romagna region of Italy and the area’s robust cuisine. HG and BSK never drank much of it until son-in-law Profesore/Dottore Massimo R. introduced HG and BSK to it during their recent visit to Bologna. Now they are converts. Lambrusco is a very pleasant warm weather wine. It has a slight sparkle and should be drunk well chilled. Nice as an aperitif and good with spicy food. HG and BSK drink Le Grotte Lambrusco. Available at Trader Joe’s for six bucks a bottle. SJ also recommends the Bianco and Rosse Lambruscos produced by Lini 910 At $15 dollars a bottle they are one of life’s affordable joys.

Goya is a family owned ethnic foods company whose products are HG essentials. Their tag line is “If it’s Goya it has to be good.” And it is absolutely true. Their Adobo powder is magic. Dust your roast chicken with it before you pop the bird in the oven. It is obligatory on pork chops. Their Sofrito makes any soup or stew sing. A favorite HG quick meal. Cook some rice. Heat a can of Goya black beans. Pour the beans over the rice. Top with chopped raw onions or scaliions. Some Sriracha to taste. South Americans call this dish “moros y cristianos” — Moors and Christians. Slices of orange and ripe avocado are a pleasant accompaniment. A quick dessert is a hunk of Goya guava paste served with some cream cheese (try to find a better cream cheese than that Philadelphia crap). Nice with the last sips of your red wine.

Even the word — mozzarella — is delicious. Just roll it around your mouth, let it dance about your tongue and finally just say it out loud. Pretty great, right? Of course, this word-play doesn’t replace the act of eating mozzarella. HG refers, of course, to fresh mozzarella (we won’t even discuss the highly processed Polly O type of packaged mozzarella). It is usually packed in water and best when made that day, but Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s actually sell pretty good mozzarella. TJ also sells buratta — a type of mozzarella with a liquid, creamy center. And, TJ also stocks the best — buffala mozzarella; a mozzarella made from water buffalo milk and imported from Italy. Pricey, but worth it for an occasional treat. HG has never liked smoked mozzarella. But, there’s an exception — the smoked mozzarella made at Joe’s Dairy at 150 Sullivan Street on the northern edge New York’s SOHO. Hand made fresh daily, this smoked mozzarella is smoky on the outside and deliciousy creamy on the inside. HG was introduced to this treat by HG’s distinguished son-in-law, Profesore/Dottore Massimo R. He placed the large, dun colored mozzarella on HG/BSK’s New Jersey kitchen counter. He suggested a taste (the intention was to serve it with lush Jersey tomatoes as a dinner appetizer). It was just too good. It was gone in a flash.

Another great place for fresh, hand made mozzarella is Belgiovine’s Italian Delicatessen on Bloomfield Avenue in Montclair, New Jersey. HG remembers with great joy, driving home with the warmth of a freshly made Belgiovine’s mozzerella radiating through the shopping bag and knowing that sun warmed Jersey tomatos and basil would be there on arrival. Belgiovine’s is also a source for outstanding Italian sausage, bread, ham, fresh and dried pasta. In Rome, HG and BSK discovered a restaurant that served only mozzarella. Awfully good cheese — but not better than Joe’s Dairy or Belgiovine’s.

One of the joys of a New York City spring was a great dish that appeared in a few restaurants at that time of year. HG refers to shad and shad roe. HG enjoyed it at two (long departed) New York restaurants — Christ Cella on E. 44th in Manhattan and the beautiful, venerable Gage & Tollner in downtown Brooklyn. Gage & Tollner was one of a kind — the oldest restaurant in Brooklyn and a mellow paradise of mahogany, tile floors and working gaslights. The restaurant was very much the favorite of the aristocratic old families who inhabited the gracious brownstones of Brooklyn Heights. Waiters were courtly, dignified African-Americans (many had been at G & T for decades and had service stripes on their jacket sleeves to prove it). G & T served a big platter of broiled shad and sauteed shad roe drenched in lemon butter and accompanied by parsleyed new potatoes, a rasher of crisp bacon and cole slaw. HG’s beverage of choice while relishing this dish was ice cold Ballantine’s India Pale Ale.

World headquarters of shad and shad roe was the town of Edgewater on the New Jersey banks of the Hudson River just north of the George Washington Bridge. Edgewater was the home of rivermen who netted shad in the Hudson for generations (for more information on the Hudson River Shad runs, refer to Joseph Mitchell’s wonderful essay The Rivermen collected in his book Up In The Old Hotel). HG once arranged a memorable shad and shad roe feast for journalists in Edgewater. The rivermen built a giant fire of wood and charcoal. Shad filets were nailed to oiled maple flanks and these were propped around the blaze. They were cooked to an astounding degree of succulence. Meanwhile, over charcoal barbecues the roe and bacon sizzled in big cast iron pans. This was a job for the women of Edgewater and these admirable ladies also provided extraordinary potato salad and cole slaw. Yes, it was a feast for the ages. Doubt whether it could be repeated today.