HUNGRY GERALD

Yes, life in New Mexico is gratifying. But, the Land of Enchantment is landlocked. The northeast coast of New England, the waters around New York City and, of course, HG/BSK’s summer paradise on Canada’s Prince Edward Island, provide some of the world’s best seafood. (Whole Foods in Santa Fe manages to fly in some pretty good fish and shellfish. However…) In Providence, HG/BSK and brilliant and beautiful granddaughter, Arianna R., celebrated BSK’s birthday with a sea feast at Hemenway’s, one of the best eateries in the city. A dozen briny oysters and a dozen little neck and cherrystone clams (Rhody clams are the very best). Rhody clam chowder (A clear pungent broth, not the usual creamy New England chowder which HG/BSK abhor). Rhody’s official state dish of fried calamari with hot peppers. Clams Casino. Broiled sea scallops wrapped in bacon, Thick cut fried potatoes. Desserts were excellent bread pudding and pecan tart (enhanced by a chocolate sorbet). Very good draught ale and a fine bottle of chilled muscadet. Anchors aweigh, indeed. The next day, HG traveled via Amtrak to New York City for a festive reunion with restaurateur daughter Victoria F. (With chef/husband Marc Meyer, Vicki owns and runs four splendid New York restaurants–Cookshop in Chelsea, Vic’s in NoHo, Rosie’s in the East Village, Hundred Acres in SoHo). HG met Vicki for a brunch at Maison Premiere, a charming restaurant in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. The restaurant specializes in oysters and on this Sunday night it was filled with hip, young people drinking the house absinthe and slurping away at oysters. Generous Vicki regaled her Dad with Raspberry Point oysters (from PEI ) and Long Island clams. As a surprise, Vicki ordered two oyster shooters: Oysters topped with Beluga caviar. Oh, my!! Drank very good Muscadet. After almost two hours of feasting, Vicki and HG were joined by SJ. More oysters (Chesapeakes), more clams, more wine and a savory brandade.Thanks, Vicki for your beauty, kindness and incomparable generosity. HG and SJ took off for Keens Steakhouse on Manhattan’s W. 36th Street. The venerable Keens (founded in 1885) is one of the most beautiful dining rooms in New York. Mutton chops, roast beef and steaks are the specialties. Carnivore heaven. Prices appear to be super expensive, but fear not: Portions are so huge that one shared entree easily satisfies two hearty eaters. HG and SJ shared crab cakes, prime rib, creamed spinach and Coffee Cantata (a dessert extravaganza of coffee ice cream, hot fudge and whipped cream. Also ordered the Prime RIb hash (topped with a perfectly fried egg). Had just a taste. It went into a doggy bag (as did much of the prime rib) for a next day meal at SJ’s household. Every aspect of the meal was great and the service was beyond compare. Prime ingredients cooked with straightforward professional simplicity. The day ended at the Airbnb apartment of SJ’s friend where the two guys drank good ale and watched Durant and Curry destroy the Cavaliers. Off to Providence the next morning with coffee and a bialy provided by SJ. A thoughtful gesture by SJ.

HG/BSK love clams. Have many happy memories of clamming in the Great South Bay off Long Island when HG/BSK and family occupied a Fire Island dune house facing the Atlantic Ocean. Harvested hundreds of clams for big feats (friends, neighbors, guests) of Clams Casino and linguine with white clam sauce. In HG’s youth, the greedy lad’s favorite place for clams was the vast Lundy’s Restaurant on the Sheepshead Bay waterfront in Brooklyn The expert shucker served clams with light-as-a-feather buttered biscuits. HG and pals devoured dozens. Last night, Lesley R. brought back Fire Island memories with steaming bowls of spaghettini with clam sauce. Used four dozen juicy little neck clams from By the Bay Fish Mart. These clams are called “quahogs” on Prince Edward Island. Larger clams are known as “chowders.” The meal began with smoked bluefish and ended with green salad plus cheese. HG had brie with chef Marc Meyer’s incredible zaatar infused flatbread. HG’s visiting daughter, Vicki (Marc Meyer’s wife and partner in the operation of their four New York restaurants} brought this welcoming treat from their Cookshop Restaurant in the West Chelsea neighborhood. The sweet finale was Lesley’s warmed fruit cobbler with vanilla ice cream. Envious anyone?

Ah, nostalgia. Sentimental memories of yesteryear are bittersweet. HG is nostalgic about the New York HG left many decades ago. Cheap rents on the Upper West Side. Even cheaper rents in Greenwich Village and Chelsea. Mom and Pop stores everywhere. Friendly greetings. Shopkeepers who would always cash a check in the days before ATM’s. All wiped out by the chains and high priced, high rise condos. “Co-op conversions” destroyed the distinguished old apartment houses where artists and intellectuals paid affordable rents. Dining out is a questionable experience (except, of course, at Daughter Victoria’s four restaurants–Rosie’s, Cookshop, Vic’s, Hundred Acres— where her husband, Marc Meyer, is the supervising chef). Everything in most restaurants is fancy, “creative” and centered around kale, small plates and expensive wine. Cheap meals? Fuhgeddabout it!! The Automat with its good coffee and splendid casseroles is gone. So is serviceable Bickford’s. There are still a number of Jewish pastrami heavens. All lousy. Even Katz’s and Carnegie. Sadly, the Jewish “dairy” restaurants are almost all gone, There are a few left. B & H at 127 Second Avenue maintains the old traditions. For those unfamiliar with the term, a Jewish “dairy” restaurant serves fish, vegetables, dairy products. No meat or meat products. The two great New York dairy restaurants were Ratner’s (on Delancey) and Rappaport’s (on Second Avenue). What did they serve? Herring in an infinite variety,. Gefilte fish. Borscht. Schav. Pirogen. Blintzes. Noodles with butter and pot cheese. Scores of smoked fish, tuna and sardine salads. HG is only, scratching the surface. Uptown on the Upper West Side there was the Paramount Famous on W. 72nd Street and the fancy Steinberg’s on Broadway in the 80’s. There were many other good dairy eateries in The Bronx and Brooklyn. All had great bread baskets filled with bagels, bialys, rye bread, challah and pletzels (onion rolls). Gallons of sour cream adorned the tables. Enough. HG is getting tearful.

(SJ here. Please look for a rebuttal to this very good, but highly suspect post tomorrow.)

In writing about family and Christmas, HG didn’t mention HG’s magnificent daughter Victoria. She (and super chef husband/partner Marc Meyer) didn’t make it to Rhode Island this year. Not surprising when you are running four hot and busy New York restaurants (Rosie’s, Vic’s, Cookshop, Hundred Acres). How Victoria manages to juggle being a top restaurant executive, wife, stepmother is beyond HG. She never seems ruffled. Her face is always aglow with welcome. In a city replete with tension and attitude, a Victoria-Marc restaurant is always a happy haven. (And, of course, the food is marvelous). On HG/BSK’s recent visit to New York, Victoria lavished generosity upon the duo. The Yiddish word for free loader is “shnorrer.” HG/BSK are world class “shnorrers” when Victoria is around. Gentle Readers, makes this new year resolution: Dine at Rosie’s (Mexican); Vic’s (Italian); Cookshop (Mediterranean); Hundred Acres (American regional). Say HG sent you.

HG/BSK participated in a joyous, uninhibited, super abundant feast, a tribute to natural Prince Edward Island produce,meat and fish. The feast is FireWorks and it is served at the Inn at Bay Fortune, a beautiful inn overlooking a glistening bay. The meal is the brainchild of Michael Smith, a towering figure in Canadian cuisine.(Figuratively and literally. He’s six feet seven). Smith made his culinary reputation at the Inn some years ago before opening Maple, a Halifax, Nova Scotia restaurant, that had a two-year run (One of HG/BSK’s favorite dining places). His PEI restaurant and Maple were selected as among Canada’s ten best restaurants. Smith gave up his restaurant career to concentrate on writing cookbooks (He’s written eight with a ninth due this autumn) and launching a television career. His program on the Canadian Food Network and other channels soon made him Canada’s best known chef. Earlier this year, Michael and his wife, Chastity, returned to their PEI roots and purchased Inn at Bay Fortune. (the stunning building and grounds were once the summer home of actress Coleen Dewhurst). Michael expanded the Inn’s adjoining farm and herb gardens while building one of the most unusual kitchens in North America. The centerpiece is a 25-foot long brick wood burning grill. Everything at the Inn is cooked on or in “the fire monster.” It combines the functions of a smokehouse, open hearth, grill, oven, rotisserie and plancha (a metal plate). No dials. No switches. Just burning wood and a dedicated crew under the skilled leadership of chef Cobey Adams. Meals are served at two long tables facing Fortune Bay (each seating some 30 diners) and at tables in the Wine Library and “Fire Kitchen.” Here’s what HG/BSK ate at this rustic grand bouffe. The duo strolled among three outdoor stations: One offering cocktails made from locally distilled gins; another providing PEI Gahan’s beer and ale and one tempting folks with chunks of barbecued pork sausage enhanced by a savory beer mustard (HG, knowing that much awaited, ate only a few). Then inside to the “Fire Kitchen,” where glasses of Oyster Bay Sauvignon Blanc in hand, HG/BSK nibbled smoked salmon with lemon caper aioli on thin rye toasts while watching the cooks busily at work on “the fire monster.” Appetites properly honed, HG/BSK moved to an adjacent room. Delight awaited HG. All you can eat oysters. And, not any old oysters. Two expert young men busily shucked Johnny Flynn’s Colville Bay oysters. When in season (and these had just entered their glory) Colville Bays have distinctive green hued shells and are incomparable. Michael Smith thinks they are the best oysters in the world (HG/BSK agree). They combine brine with a faint sea sweetness and a firm, succulent texture. HG succumbed to mad oyster lust. HG ate some 40 oysters. (Hey, that’s not too greedy. Diamond Jim Brady would often preface his huge meals at Rector’s with four dozen oysters). The FireWorks shuckers dabbed some of the oysters with “Bloody Mary Ice”, but HG passed, not wishing to mar the pure oyster experience.With appetite barely sated by the bivalve overindulgence, HG sat down to some serious eating. (BSK was so busy taking photos that she only managed to score about six oysters). First course was “12 Grain Red Fife Sourdough Bread–Whipped Brown Butter.” This had such a tangy, grainy taste ,that HG could have knocked off an entire loaf with butter and red wine and gone home happy. But, HG behaved with restraint. Much more to come. “Taste of the Island Board” (Lonzino, Pork Rilette, Glagow Glen Fenugreek Gouda, raw carrots, tomatoes and green beans; arugula pesto, flax crackers). HG found this uneven. The pork rilette was very good. The lonzino would have been better with some of the beer mustard served outside. Some of PEI’s great mustard pickles would have enlivened the plate. HG gave the cheese only a nibble though it’s an HG/BSK favorite. (HG likes cheese at the end of a meal, not at the beginning). Next up (was “Chowder Kettle” (Island mussel broth, bar clams, Fortune Wharf she-lobster.)” The chef eliminated lobster (BSK’s allergic) from BSK’s serving. HG’s had plenty of juicy lobster and mussels in a lushly herbaceous chowder. The bowl was marred by a rubbery bar clam. (HG would have preferred quahogs in the chowder.). Next course was the high point of the meal, a dish which will long be recalled, with pleasure, by HG/BSK. This was “Hot Fish” (A duo of Blue Fin tuna–seared loin and tartare, black garlic aioli, sea rocket pesto, cabbage slaw, duck fat poached egg). This was tuna recently caught off HG/BSK’s north shore home (HG had watched a big blue fin tuna brought into Naufrage harbor and then eviscerated with expertise). The dish combined tender, meaty tuna with unusual sauces and textures. It worked beautifully. Next up was “Garden Salad” (Home grown salad containing 35 savory greens, tender leaves, herbs and flowers, apple cider and honey vinaigrette). HG, not usually a salad lover, gobbled this up joyfully. BSK, a salad fan, thought it was just so-so. The food climax was “Smoked Belly & Seawater Brined Loin” (Purple potato mash, seared zucchini, charred tomatoes, steamed beans & peas, smoked apple sauce, beet and ricotta salad.) The pork belly was a nice portion of pulled pork, some of it crisp and some moist and juicy. Some barbecue sauce would have been helpful. The loin was tender but tasteless. It needed a spicy chutney to give it life. The purple potato mash was sensational (even better than BSK’s great smashed spuds). The beans and peas were fine.The zucchini was watery and insipid. BSK liked the beet salad. Appetite running down, HG gave it a pass. Dessert was “Caramel Apple Shortcake” (Lemon basil and blueberry sorbet, Chantilly cream, plum cherries). A very refreshing climax. HG topped it off with one of the best coffees ever. HG/BSK drank Oyster Bay with the first courses and then a very good California Hahn Cabernet. Cost of the “FireWorks Feast” was $80 per person. Wine (HG/BSK drank six glasses) was $90 at $15 a glass. There was a lusty provincial tax. A 20% gratuity. All of these numbers are in Canadian dollars so with the strong US buck it cost HG/BSK about $200 US. It was well worth it. (Considering that HG/BSK ate oysters that would have cost about $150 in New York, the meal was an astounding bargain). The atmosphere, service, happy diners, pleasant conversation with Canadian table mates all contributed to a joyous evening. The food? Good. Not great (except for the tuna and the oysters). When it comes to locavore cooking , HG’s hero is chef Marc Meyer. Marc and HG’s daughter, Victoria, own and run four well regarded New York restaurants — Cookshop, Hundred Acres, Vic’s and Rosie’s. Marc has pioneered farm to table cooking. He is a master. Because of his rigorous sourcing of the best ingredients and precision cooking, even the simplest dishes become extraordinary. HG recalls watching two elegant Italian art dealers at Cookshop (at 10th Avenue and 20th Street it is in the heart of an art gallery district). They ordered chicken salad and a bottle of red wine. No, this wasn’t a mayonnaise and celery mess. It was chunks of crisp skinned free range chicken served on lightly dressed greens and dusted with herbs. In accented English, one of the men told the waiter how he wished something this simple and delicious could be found in Milan. Alec Lobrano, the premier critic of Paris restaurants (“Hungry For Paris”), dined at Cookshop and wrote that he wished Paris had a restaurant like Cookshop. HG is clear-eyed about food (if about little else). HG ‘s opinion of Marc’s cuisine is not skewed by family ties. HG calls them as he sees them.

Okay. Now that we strive for political correctness, there are only “waitpersons.” Farewell to “waiters” and “waitresses.” On the not-so-politically-correct side, HG has noticed that “waitpersons” in all cheap but delicious Chinese restaurants are unsmiling and peremptory. On the other hand, Latino “waitpersons” in New Mexico, whether serving in a white tablecloth restaurant or a rough hewn roadside truck, are gracious, smiling and efficient. Joyous welcoming shouts and farewells are traditional in Japanese businesses, restaurants included. Paris “waitpersons” are models of professionalism. They are not your pals. They do not announce: “Hello, I am Pierre, your waitperson for tonight.” They simply do their job and do it wonderfully — Of course they usually warm up to HG because HG expresses intense interest in every aspect of the carte and carte des vins. Waitpersons in Italy are the best. They enfold the diner, whether tourist or native, in family warmth. (Venice is an exception. Following a centuries old tradition, tourists are there for the fleecing. Tourists pay expanded prices. Venetians get a discount). Restaurateur Daughter Victoria F. makes sure service is a model of friendly efficiency at her three New York restaurants — Cookshop, Vic’s and Hundred Acres. (No, HG/BSK are not treated differently than any other diners). The old New York Jewish (must call them “waiters”) were the stuff of comedy legend. They staffed delicatessens, “dairy” restaurants and traditional kosher and non-kosher Eastern European eateries. They never smiled. Their feet hurt. They hated their customers. Even when in a nostalgic mood, HG doesn’t miss them.

HG is so proud and delighted. Restaurateur Daughter Victoria Freeman (Cookshop, Hundred Acres, soon to open Rosies’s) has a big hit on her hands. The first review of her new restaurant, Vic’s, just appeared…New York Magazine gave Vic’s four stars calling the food “Big, Bold and Batali-esque.” Read about chef Hillary Sterling’s flavorful dishes and you’ll get ravenously hungry. Make your reservation now before the wait becomes interminable. Vic’s (31 Great Jones Street near Lafayette) replaces Five Points, the pioneering restaurant Vicki and husband/chef Marc Meyer opened 15 years ago. Five Points was one of the first farm-to-table restaurants in New York and its Sunday brunch quickly became a New York legend. Vicki and Marc thought it was time for a change. A redo of the decor, new name, new chef, new menu. Obviously, a very good idea. The name “Vic’s” is a bow to the past. “Vix” was Vicki’s first restaurant. She hired Marc Meyer as the chef. The rest is New York culinary history. HG/BSK will be in New York for pre-Christmas visit. Will dine at Vic’s. Looking forward.

Was it Lucius Beebe (or Oscar Wilde) who said (and HG paraphrases): “My tastes are simple. I like only the very best.” ? HG agrees (in part). HG deplores over elaborate, over sauced, fussed over food. Through the years HG dined at many temples of high cuisine (Le Pavillon, Lutece, La Cote Basque, Le Bernardin in New York; Connaught Restaurant and Savoy Grill in London; the once glorious Laperouse in Paris). Even in these vaunted places, HG ordered simple dishes (mixed grill at the Connaught; grilled sole at the Savoy and roast duck with turnips at Pavillon). HG may be accused of favoritism and family pride, but HG’s ideal of dining is Cookshop, the restaurant run by HG’s daughter, Victoria Freeman,and her husband, chef Marc Meyer. It is located on Tenth Avenue in New York’s Chelsea neighborhood and is always filled with a lively, good looking crowd. The restaurant has been in the forefront of the farm-to-table, locavore movement. Meyer treats his superior ingredients with restraint and imagination. A tip from HG. Settle down with a glass of chilled rose (from Slovenia, surprisingly). Have some radishes with herbed butter and sea salt. Follow with roasted asparagus (sauce gribiche). Then, share a Hudson Valley Chicken Breast Salad. This is not the usual mayonnaise-drenched mess. The menu describes it this way: “Chicken, arugula, cucumbers, sliced carrots, radish, spiced walnut, golden raisin, sherry vinaigrette.” Crunchy with summery flavors and hints of salt and sweetness. HG shrugs off charges of nepotism. Can one imagine a better summer lunch? (An afterthought: Alexander Lobrano, the Paris-based food writer for the New York Times and many other publications and the author of the best guide to Paris dining, Hungry For Paris, dined at Cookshop while visiting New York. He expressed a wish that Paris should have more restaurants like Cookshop).

Senator Debbie Satenow, Democrat (of course) of Michigan, is an HG heroine. The farm bill President Obama signed last month increases subsidies to fruit and vegetable farmers and emphasizes aid to locally grown, organic, healthful foods. The New York Times reported Senator Satenow “negotiated, prodded, cajoled and finally shepherded the bill through Congress over two and a half years.” Many thanks, Senator. The celebrity chefs get a lot of exposure but it’s folks like you who make sure that good food is on America’s tables. Here’s a bit of joyous nepotism: Restaurateur Daughter Victoria and husband/chef Marc Meyer pioneered farm-to-table menus at their three New York Restaurants (Five Points, Cookshop, Hundred Acres). They were the first to advertise the farmers, ranchers and fish-mongers from which they procured the wonderful ingredients that made up their dishes. Wonderful cooking that lets natural flavors shine.

The changing fashions in food have long fascinated HG. For example, beets, once despised, have become not just chic, but ubiquitous — you can hardly find a menu that doesn’t include some form of a beet and goat cheese salad. HG has always found a beet (like vinegar) to be an enemy of wine. Nevertheless, in Paris the top bistros du vins have betteraves on their cartes. Raw fish was only found at Japanese sushi bars. Suddenly, raw tuna and chopped tartares of tuna and salmon became featured players. Even Italian restaurants (possibly influenced by the massive success of Esca and David Pasternack) have crudos among their appetizers. For a time, steak was dismissed as a boorish, unhealthy and unfashionable food. There was a reaction and carnivores rejoiced as more than a score of upscale steak houses opened in New York. “Small plates” have become fashionable. Is there sticker shock when hearty appetites do some big time grazing on these “small” plates with big time prices? Foam, sous vide, molecular are among the gastronomic buzz words of the past decade. HG, a conservative, is skeptical about these arcane techniques. Restaurants used to take pride in offering imported food from faraway places. Now, the very best chefs (like Marc Meyer of New York’s Cookshop, Hundred Acres and Five Points) are determinedly “locavore,” a trend HG endorses with enthusiasm.

BEET FOAM