Tilapia: The Surprising Fish Brings Family Harmony.

February 10th, 2012 § 2 comments § permalink

Tilapia is a farm raised fish, and like farm raised salmon, has been scorned by HG. As HG’s massive public knows, HG is a fancier of batter fried catfish (rolled in flour, dipped in beaten egg and rolled again in panko or cornmeal and first soaked in buttermilk). Well, here’s the problem. BSK doesn’t like catfish. Says it tastes muddy. HG believes BSK’s distaste was caused by eating wild, bottom feeding catfish in her youth. Today’s farm raised catfish (an exception to HG’s quickly disappearing No-Farm-Raised rule) does not taste muddy. Emphatically not. But, BSK won’t change her mind. So, what to do? A number of culinary authorities (including Mark Bittman) have said you can substitute tilapia for catfish when you’re hovering over the big, sizzling cast iron pan. HG bought a pound of tilapia. No buttermilk bath, but followed the usual procedure. The result was sensational, Even BSK had to agree. Crisp crust covering juicy, firm white fish. A treat. BSK cooked up a mess of southern greens. Had a few boiled fingerling potatoes. There was lots of hot sauce and lemons. Once more, family culinary harmony prevails.

Beautiful Baked Goods

February 8th, 2012 § 1 comment § permalink

HG misses the high caloric New York breakfast treats of yesteryear. Greenberg’s Sticky Schnecken Buns. These honey, nut and cinnamon drenched little guys were more addictive than heroin. Sold by a shop — William Greenberg Jr. Deserts — on Madison Avenue, they were expensive and madly delicious. It took self discipline not to demolish an entire box before they were brought home. When the effects of weed smoking brought about a passion for sweet goodies, all senses cried out for the Greenberg’s product. Apparently Greenberg’s son is alive and well and making these wonderful buns according to his father’s recipe which are for sale HERE.

Croissants from the Sutter bakery on Greenwich Avenue in The Village. Flakey, crisp, outrageously buttery. Much superior to anything in Paris. BSK was partial to slices of Zito’s bread (from the old Bleecker Street bakery which closed in 2004) drenched with honey. With softly scrambled eggs, HG liked buttered Jewish rye or Pechter’s (or Stuhmer’s) pumpernickel (obtainable at Zabar’s).

Sometimes nothing tasted better than a warmed (not toasted) bialy liberally smeared with Daitch’s cream cheese (or Zabar’s scallion cream cheese). HG never fancied bagels. HG is concerned that bialy baking has entered a period of decline (are the old masters dead or basking in Florida sunshine?). Have not had a truly great bialy in years. Sadly, bialys shipped recently by HG’s much loved Russ & Daughters didn’t have that old time oniony zest. (SJ will interject now. The old time great bialy still exists at Kossar’s Bialys on Grand Street. A serious treat when warm from the oven and eaten whole right from a brown paper bag. Says SJ: You wouldn’t order fish from a baker, so don’t order bialys from an appetizing store.)

Possibly the best breakfast treat of all was the “pletzel.” This was a roll covered in baked onions. Good? As my Mom would say: “Nu,nu, don’t ask.” These were on the table at Jewish dairy restaurants like Ratner’s and Rappaport’s on the Lower East Side and at Jewish bakeries throughout The Bronx. Gone, all gone. HG’s eyes grow misty.

An Onion Pletzel

Super Super Bowl

February 7th, 2012 § 0 comments § permalink

Often, the Big Game is a Big Bore with the commercials outshining the combat. Not this time. A close nail biter with a Manning/ Manningham Magical Moment..Giant fan HG was a happy guy. Watched at the home of Polly B. and David F. All generations were there. The kids were face painted to show their loyalties. HG turned down an offer to have his face painted Big Blue. BSK brought gravlax, perfectly cured slabs of salmon. There were three kinds of meatballs: Italian, Asian and “Spicy.” New Mexican Green Chili Stew. HG quaffed much vodka and beer. Drew some modest frowns from BSK but all was forgiven in the joy of victory.

Sweet, Greek Goodie

February 6th, 2012 § 0 comments § permalink

A simple great dessert is Greek yogurt (preferably, the Fage brand) doused with some good honey and sprinkled with an abundance of walnuts. Presume this was enjoyed by Socrates, Aristotle, Melina Mercouri and other splendid Greeks. HG first had the dessert in Chicago’s Greektown after a lunch of grilled, tender octopus and a big platter of greens and okra braised in garlic and pungent Greek olive oil. Washed it down with retsina (an acquired taste), of course. HG’s counsel: Follow it up with Metaxa and throw some plates around. Zorba had it right.

Melina Mercouri

Rapini

February 5th, 2012 § 0 comments § permalink

Rapini (also known as broccoli di rabe) is a splendid vegetable, combining the sweetish taste of broccoli with the pleasantly bitter taste of mustard greens. HG is going to have it with some linguini tonight. BSK cooks it perfectly and simply, first sauting a bunch of garlic and sweet onion in good olive oil until the onion is translucent and just starting to color. Then BSK chops the rapini up and blanches it in boiling water before adding it to the pan with the onion and garlic. When the rapini softens she hits it with some chicken stock and eventually finishes the linguini in the pan. Serves it with the olive oil bottle, grated parmesan and the pepper grinder on the table. Usually BSK adds chopped pancetta to the dish but tonight there will be slices of grilled chorizo. Kumato tomatoes and anchovies as a starter and some clementines for dessert.

B-r-r-r-r-r!!!

February 3rd, 2012 § 0 comments § permalink

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.

Herring Thoughts

February 2nd, 2012 § 0 comments § permalink

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.

Vij’s

February 1st, 2012 § 0 comments § permalink

Vancouver, British Columbia is a city of majestic mountain and sea views; a glittering skyline; polyglot population and, alas, incessant rain for much of the year. It also has some of the best vegetables, fruit, meat and seafood in North America (they are all available plus exceptional cheese and charcuterie at the Public Market on Granville Island). There are some very good restaurants. No, despite enthusiastic local boosters, it’s not New York — Vancouver does not yet have the population mass or money to rival New York’s enthusiastic restaurant culture. There is great Asian food and a Chinatown with lots of cheap and satisfying eateries. It’s not New York’s Chinatown and it certainly isn’t Flushing, the dream destination for Asian food.

What Vancouver has is Vij’s Restaurant and Vij’s Rangoli. At these dining destinations Vikram Vij and his wife, Meeru Dhalwala, have created a cuisine that, while using spices and techniques from all over India, is unlike anything served in traditional Indian restaurants. There is no tandoori oven and there are tiny French, Italian and Chinese influences that bubble up in the cooking. Vij’s Restaurant is the more formal affair (though still very casual in the Vancouver style). Cornish
game hens, trout, pork belly — all locally sourced — are on the menu. A signature dish is “lamb popsicles,” tiny chops cut from the rack and served in a lush sauce that combines heat, cream and spice. Addictive. Only dinner is served and the restaurant opens at 5:30. A line forms outside the door at 5 and every seat is taken immediately when the doors open. No reservations. However, waiting is not a chore since there’s a lovely bar and gracious Vij is generous with a variety of spicy tidbits. Rangoli, located next door, is much simpler. Part market, part take away counter and part casual dining spot that’s open all day. The curries and stews are sublime. Take it from HG, Vij’s is worth a special trip to Canada.

The Soup…

February 1st, 2012 § 2 comments § permalink

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.

Bedtime Book

January 31st, 2012 § 0 comments § permalink

HG has long been a fan of the writer James Salter. Though he has written many books, scores of excellent short stories, screenplays, searching criticism (he recently did a beautifully objective appreciation of Ernest Hemingway’s achievement for the New York Review of Books), he has never been very well known. He has received many awards and honors and been described as a “writer’s writer.” An aviator and fighter pilot (combat during the Korean War), no one has ever written better about flying. He also writes very well about food. For bedtime reading, there is nothing better than the book he wrote with his wife, Kay: Life Is Meals: A Food Lover’s Book Of Days. There are 365 brief essays (one for each day of the year) in this beautifully illustrated volume (published by Knopf). James and Kay Salter are a wonderfully civilized couple without an ounce of pretension but much erudition. There are some nice recipes and acute observations about people, places, art, history and, of course, food and dining. The perfect book for a bedtime browse.

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