Yes, It’s cold and snowy in the lovely Italian city of Bologna. Some 18 inches of snow drifted down upon the city, smashing every meteorological record for the region. Gifted Daughter Lesley R., who resides in Bologna, reports that the Bolognese are puzzled. There are no snow plows. Few snow shovels. Some folks are trying to attack the drifts with brooms and the city is almost completely shut down. The photographs Lesley R. has sent show a bleak, frozen city and HG hopes that she is able to keep warm and full by stocking up from the few shops that have managed to open.
A storm in Bologna of all places has caused HG to muse about cold weather food. No, not the food prepared at home, but the food HG ate on the street or at lunch counters when the winds whistled from the Hudson, Harlem and East Rivers. During the Great Depression, little HG ate “Hot Mickeys” (roasted potatoes) shared with his buddies over an improvised wood fire in an empty lot. HG also bought, for a penny or two, hot sweet potatoes, chicken fat doused chick peas (“hayseh arbis”) that were served in a paper cone and the ubiquitous roasted chestnuts sold by street vendors. In later years HG favored the big bowls of steaming cabbage soup sold in bleak Ukrainian diners on the Lower East Side. Glorious Pho, a byproduct of the very inglorious Vietnam War, had not yet arrived.
But, the best cold beater HG ever had was on a chill December day in Bologna. This was a glass of espresso, liberally enriched with grappa, and topped with almost three inches of whipped cream. Virtually all of HG’s senses were warmed and delighted.
When Hershele Zvi Freimann, HG’s late, beloved father, arrived in the United States in 1906, he immediately went to work in a Lower East Side sweatshop. Salary: $7 a week. He slept on a cutting table. Bathed in the public baths on Forsyth Street (fastidious HZF went every day). His principal meal of the day cost 12 cents. A schmaltz herring. A pumpernickel bread. A schooner of beer. Irving Howe, in his seminal book on the migration of East European Jews to the United States, World of Our Fathers: The Journey Of The East European Jews To America And The Life They Found And Made, notes that the pioneering labor union organizers plotted strategy over meals of herring and boiled potatoes.
HG honors these traditions of Labor and family. In years past, HG watched the Super Bowl while imbibing herring, boiled potatoes, raw onions and vodka straight from the freezer. This Super Sunday HG and BSK are invited to the home of friends so herring is off the menu, but BSK is curing some salmon — converting the fish into delicious, dill strewn gravlax. Even without the herring there will be abundant vodka so the day will be joyful even if the Giants lose.
In Europe, herring isn’t identified with Jewish cuisine. Most Paris brasseries have pickled herring on their menus (The best is at Stella and Le Vaudeville). At the excellent bistro, Chez Georges, The pickled herring is passed to customers in a big crock. Take as much as you want and seconds are given with a smile.
HG’s best herring memory: Raw herring filets in Amsterdam. Rolled the morsels in chopped, raw onion. HG threw his head back and downed them whole accompanied by Genever Gin and Dutch beer, of course.
A note to New York herring lovers: Russ & Daughters, the Lower East Side temple of smoked fish has these raw herrings in season as does the Grand Central Oyster Bar. Now, there’s the perfect meal. Raw Dutch herrings followed by the Oyster Bar’s wondrous Oyster Pan Roast. Precede it with some oysters and Long Island little neck clams on the half shell. A meal for sea lovers.
SJ here. In the recent post Chicken Soup From a Mexican Mom, HG described a soup that had me twitching with envy. The soup HG ate was called Caldo Tilapena and it was a hearty Mexican dish, brimming with chicken and chipotle peppers and many good things. I had a similar soup once, years ago, when I was visiting a town called San Miguel De Allende a few hours south of Mexico City. This soup was tomato based, cut through with fresh herbs, poached chicken, strips of crunchy corn tortilla and topped with crumbly white queso Fresco and Mexican creme fraiche. I loved this soup. I had it in the late 80s and probably not a week has gone by where I don’t think back to it with a nod of appreciation and mumble under my breath…That was damn good soup.
I never had another soup like it until 1996 when I was living in Chicago and got hit with a tremendous cold — maybe it was a flu, even — whatever the case, I was miserable. My nose was raw, my ears hurt, a steady cough made my stomach muscles hurt, and a fluctuation in my body temp had me going from shakes to sweat in five minute intervals. Plus, I was hungry. So, I took my sad, sick body to Artuto’s — a fine 24 hour Mexican spot around the corner from my house that specialized in food from the Jalisco region. I ate there a lot so everyone knew me and were concerned by the sad state of my health. A suggestion was made and I was brought their Caldo Pollo: a HUGE, piping hot bowl filled with chicken, potatoes, carrots, yucca all in a very rich and very greasy chicken broth that REALLY tasted of chicken (you could just imagine that stock pot in Arturo’s kitchen slowly simmering for weeks on end being fed chicken scraps and bones all through the day). Served alongside was chopped onion, cilantro, limes and a stack of warm tortillas. Boy. I tell you, if you are sick and alone and meet a soup like that, it is akin to stepping off the orphan train into the arms of a true Mom goddess who will rest your head in her breast and let you sleep for a million years. The Arturo’s soup touched my soul, nestled it, loved it, warmed it and brought it back to health. A soup for the ages. A soup that I have pined for since I left Chicago.
Well, reading HG’s soup posting made me think back to those two soups, and not just think…but obsess. Here in NYC, I couldn’t just take off to New Mexico, or Chicago or Mexico for that matter, so I had to satisfy this craving on my own — and as it was a craving for all three soups, I decided I would take the best elements of each and create a monster of my own. So I read a bunch of recipes for Tortilla Soup both on-line and in Mark Bittman’s excellent cookbook: The Best Recipes In The World and then I thought to myself about what I liked about the two soups I remembered and the HG soup that I imagined and using those as a guideline I then created a really great soup that satisfied my craving absolutely. And I — kind and gentle and giving SJ that I am — will now share it with all of you:
SJ’s BIG BOWL OF HG INSPIRED CHICKEN-TORTILLA SOUP
First! Gather these ingredients:
1 onion (roughly minced)
6 cloves garlic (minced)
1 lb of chicken thighs
4 cups chicken stock (store bought is fine, but honestly make your own stock! It is easy, it makes you feel good about yourself and it is 100 times better than what you can buy)
10 soft corn tortillas cut into 1/4″ strips
1 can whole plum tomatoes
6 limes
2 Zucchinni
12 or so dried Red Chili Pods (mild) and 1 dried chipotle pepper (with stems cut off and stripped off seeds)
Start by simmering your dried chili & chipotle pods for about 20 minutes in 3 to 4 cups of water until they are pulpy and tender
While you are doing that begin frying up those strips of tortilla. If you have never made fresh tortilla chips before, well, time to learn because NOTHING, absolutely NOTHING will make friends, spouses and lovers think you are an amazing cook and super person and a sexy motherfucker like making fresh, hot tortilla chips and NOTHING, absolutely NOTHING is as easy as making fresh, hot tortilla chips. Biggest bang for your buck in the 21st Century. Here’s what your do: heat up about 4 to 5 tablespoons of canola oil in a wok, on high, for about five minutes. Cut round corn tortillas into quarters. Test the oil heat, by slipping a chip into the pan. If the oil furiously bubbles around the chip. Then you are good to go! Don’t overcrowd and cook to golden and drain on paper towels. So, using this method fry those tortilla strips in batches until they are golden. Instead of a wok use a big soup pot. When you are finished, pour out half the oil, return to heat and then add your onion and garlic. Cook until the onion and garlic are soft and just beginning to caramelize into golden yellow. Remove your peppers from the water and add to onions. Also add the can of tomatoes, the broth and 3/4 of the tortilla strips you prepared. Bring the whole thing to a gentle boil. When you have a moment before the boiling begins, put your chicken into the water that you cooked your peppers in, bring to simmer and cover. The chicken should take about 20 minutes to be ready.
While the chicken cooks add whatever seasonings (oregano, salt, white pepper, thyme) to your broth and then get your damn immersion blender out and go at it! Blend that soup until SMOOTH!!! When you are satisfied and the chicken is done, then you have to shred the hot chicken which is not fun at all, but do it under cold, running water and you should be protected. Add the shredded chicken to the broth alongside your zucchini which you have cut into quarters. Add the water that your chicken cooked in, the juice of all those limes and bring the whole thing to a lazy boil. If the soup seems too thick, then add water. Cook until the zucchini are ready. Taste, adjust for seasonings, and then serve the soup in a BIG bowl with chopped, fresh onion, cilantro, more limes for squeezing, the rest of the tortilla strips, Queso Fresco and avocado. If you like, you could add rice, chick peas or hominy to the soup to make it even MORE filling.
There it is. A great, delicious, healthy soup that will nurse you through any cold and keep you full and smiling no matter the season. Thanks HG for the inspiration.
HG’s mom served an exuberant bowl of chicken soup. The HG maternal soup contained a rich, homemade broth shimmering with the velvet haze of chicken fat, chunks of boiled chicken, noodles, matzo balls and (sometimes) kasha — plus slices of boiled carrots and onions. With some thick slices of challah this dish sure beat the hell out of the empty tummy blues.
Well, that soup met its match today at one of HG’s favorite dining spots, The Sopapilla Factory in Pojauque, NM. The manager told HG that the soup on the menu was just like his Madre used to make. Called Caldo Tilapena, this mighty dish (served in a virtual caldron) contained chicken broth mightily enhanced by aromatic, smokey, hot chipotle peppers. There was rice, chick peas, zucchini, carrots and at least a pound of gently poached chicken breast. For crunch, it was topped with crisp lengths of fried yellow and blue corn tortillas. And, for a voluptuous and cooling gustatory counter-weight, a half dozen slices of avocado were served alongside. No challah. But, a basket of warm sopapillas (Mexican popovers) with butter and honey. Ah, Mothers — whether Yiddishe or Hispanic — always know best.
HG just learned (though it has been widely reported) that New York’s Eleven Madison Park, the renowned four star restaurant, is serving an “egg cream” at the conclusion of dinner (just before dessert). The restaurant’s “egg cream” is composed of vanilla-malt syrup, organic milk, olive oil, sea salt and seltzer.
This concoction would receive a shocked “Gevalt!!!!” from my late mom. Like HG, she was a classicist and abhorred “creative” food aberrations. There is only one way, HG’s way, to make a proper New York egg cream (Younger readers: An egg cream contains neither egg nor cream). HG learned egg cream construction as a soda jerk at Bonder’s Candy Store in The Bronx in the 1940’s. The Bronx had many demanding egg cream experts and it was acknowledged in the Kingsbridge neighborhood that the Bonder/HG egg cream had scaled the heights and rested upon the pinnacle. Here’s how HG did it: Fox’s U-Bet Chocolate syrup at the bottom of the glass. Then milk. Here’s the vital part. The milk had to be semi frozen or mixed with finely crushed ice. The milk and syrup would occupy half the glass. The seltzer was sprayed slowly against the interior of the glass. Then a quick burst at the end. A stir with a long soda spoon. The result: A glorious chocolate drink with a dense, creamy head of foam. Many a housewife interrupted her shopping for an HG egg cream accompanied by a crisp, salty pretzel. The egg cream was one of the four popular fountain beverages HG dispensed: The 2-cents plain (a simple, unadorned glass of seltzer); the five cent chocolate soda (chocolate syrup and seltzer); the ten cent egg cream; the 25-cent chocolate malted (made with two scoops of ice cream, milk and malt powder). Simple treats for a simpler time.
Hey, amigos, Sunday was a day of sheer pleasure. Gave a pork butt a good rubdown with oil, garlic and adobo. Popped it in a 300 degree oven early in the morning (for a five hour roast). Spent the day pig pickin that piggie. Wrapped meat in romaine and butter lettuce leaves. There was kimchi (locally made and bought at Ziggy’s great international food store in Santa Fe) and naan, and sriracha, and Korean chili paste, and scallion/ginger/sesame oil/vinegar sauce. Yes, tequila and cold beer. And, on the TV, football playoff action. The Patriots won (am very fond of stylish Tom Brady even on his very few off days) and HG and SJ’s beloved Giants pulled off a last minute field goal victory. Close, exciting, unpredictable games.
Ray Lewis, the great, bruising Baltimore linebacker, commented on his team’s effort (lost by two last second plays–a dropped pass and a faulty field goal try): “We win as a team. We lose as a team. We will not blame any single player.” Classy comment from a future Hall of Famer.
HG truly hates the whole world of mega fast food. Vile hamburgers. Nasty, oily fried chicken. Doesn’t taste good and it’s not good for you. A nice hamburger made at home is a whole other story. HG uses ground chuck with a reasonable fat content. No fat spells a dry and tasteless burger. HG adds a bit of micro-planed garlic to the meat and gently forms the patty. Overworking creates toughness. HG’s trusty, old and seasoned cast iron pan is put on high heat with a thin layer of kosher salt (meanwhile some sliced onions are cooking in another pan). When the cast iron is good and hot the patty goes on (there will be smoke and sizzle). A good crust develops. The burger is flipped so the other side gets crusty. Then the heat is turned to medium (you want a crusty, not burned burger). After a bit of time, HG sticks in a fork to test for doneness (HG likes a pink, but not raw burger…steak tartare it isn’t). HG finishes it with some blue cheese which melts quickly. This delicious piece of meat is slipped on a slice of ciabatta and smothered in the fried onions. A few Bubbie’s sweet pickle slices on the side (HG must have his vegetables). When ripe and in season, some sliced tomato is a good idea or in the dead of winter, you can try Kumato tomatoes which are flavorful and available at Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s year round. This is a good, down home meal and all it needs to round it out is some fruity California Zinfandel. A pox on you. Mickey Dee.
One of HG’s favorite cookbooks is The Frankies Spuntino Kitchen Companion & Cooking Manual. SJ introduced HG and BSK to Frankies 457 Spuntino Restaurant on Smith Street in the Carroll Gardens neighborhood of Brooklyn. Wonderful, forthright Brooklyn/Italian food with an emphasis on lightness and natural flavors. Memorable salads. HG/BSK have used the Frankies recipe for romaine hearts with Caesar dressing with delicious results. It’s not a Caesar salad, just a tasty, simplified dressing that uses Hellmann’s Mayonnaise instead of raw eggs. No croutons. Good. HG despises them. HG shares the Frankies fondness for Hellmann’s. The cookbook notes that Nobu Matsushita, the great Japanese chef of Nobu fame, uses Hellmann’s in his signature shrimp and lobster dishes. Good enough for Nobu. Good enough for HG. Of course, if you are doing aioli or rouille, hand whipped, made from scratch mayo is essential. But, for sandwiches, cole slaw, potato salad and a multitude of other dishes Hellmann’s is the stuff. And, when it’s post-Thanksgiving and Christmas turkey sandwich time, haul out that other ornament of the supermarket — Heinz Ketchup. Mixed with Hellmann’s (and some optional, chopped sweet gherkins) the resulting Russian dressing makes even dry turkey breast very palatable.
Popeye not only loved it, he depended upon it! Remember the way his muscles would pop after sucking up a can of spinach allowing him to save Olive Oyl from the clutches of big, bad Bluto? Like the great, mumbling sailor man himself, HG is fond of the leafy vegetable. Loves it mixed into a risotto or rice pilaf. Spinach is one of the rare vegetables that freeze well, so HG always has some in the freezer. Frozen spinach (moisture wrung out) should be warmed gently and mixed with some warm olive oil and lightly browned garlic. Nice with a pan broiled steak. HG did not trust spinach as a child and actively rebelled against it. His imaginative Mom found a cure by concealing the tender vegetable in balls of mashed potatoes and calling the dish “buried treasure.” HG liked the name and the digging for treasure adventure and became a life long spinach fan.
So, watch out Bluto and keep your mitts off of BSK!!!
Have always found caramels too sweet. But, a few years ago HG discovered, in Paris, of course, caramel ice cream enriched with sea salt — fleur de sel. Super yum. Trader Joe’s now carries fleur de sel caramel candies. A treat. Haagen Dasz has a nice Dulce Con Leche ice cream. Give a bowl a sprinkle — a very modest sprinkle — of sea salt. An ice cream surprise.
