HUNGRY GERALD

Was it a French gourmand (or possibly just HG) who mused: “Dinner without an entree (appetizer) is like making love without foreplay” ? Yes, an appetizer is a good idea. But, it must be modest so as not to blunt ardor for the main event (okay, okay, that’s the end of the semi-naughty references). So, here are a few of HG’s favorite starters. Three chilled Colville Bay oysters on the half-shell. Spanish Piquillo peppers with a bit of fresh mozzarella/buratta drizzled in good olive oil and Maldon Smoked Sea Salt Flakes. A slice of Italian prosciutto with a ripe, fresh fig. A slice of Serrano ham on thin buttered bread. A dab of Alaskan salmon red caviar (best purchased online from Zabar’s) topped with creme fraiche on a buttered slice of lightly toasted Pepperidge Farm Thin White bread. A chunk of schmaltz herring (from Russ & Daughters) rolled in chopped onion and downed with a shot glass of icy vodka. Slice of smoked salmon (Nova Scotia or Scotland) with capers, olive oil and ground pepper. And, here’s a suggestion by HG for something you may not have tried: Cook a small bit of Angel Hair or Capellini pasta. Top it with a sauce made of olive oil, finely chopped raw garlic, a few sardines, a squeeze of tomato paste, coarse salt and plenty of ground black pepper. So good that you might be sorry you’re not having it as your main dish.

Last day in Paris (alas, alas). Went to the elegant Bon Marche department store (annual sales are going on) where Left Bank fashionistas do their shopping. Beautiful clothes for women, men and kiddies, but they certainly are’t giving them away. Prices are astronomical — even with the on sale reductions — during this time of weak American greenbacks. Disheartened, HG left the clothing and wandered through the Bon Marche Epicerie, the great food hall. This is pure food pornography. Enough to make a dedicated foodie weak at the knees. The ultimate in smoked salmon (sorry, Russ and Daughters). Fantastic cheese, breads and sausage (sorry, Zabar’s). Orgasmic pates (sorry, Vancouver Oyama). The wine “cave,” like the Maltese Falcon, is “the stuff dreams are made of.” Particularly liked the four figure magnums of rare Bordeaux.

For dinner, HG/BSK put French food fantasies aside for a delightful dinner at Shin Jung, a Korean restaurant just footsteps from HG/BSK’s Rue Clapeyron apartment. Nice rose wine. Juicy pork and vegetable dumplings. Crispy kimchi pancakes. Quick fried, egg-battered slices of zucchini. Very generous platter of salmon and yellowtail sashimi on a bed of shredded daikon radish. Spicy barbecued pork served in a hot cast iron pan and accompanied by bowls of rice and the traditional Korean array of kimchi and other pickled good things. For dessert there was ginger ice cream doused with ginger flavored vodka. Nice conclusion. No, this isn’t the kind of powerfully flavored food you get in Manhattan’s Koreatown or the Sunnyside section of Queens. But, the service is sweet; your fellow diners are nice to look at and the noise level –and cost–is modest. A refreshing detour from French cooking.

Christmas Eve. Time for the Feast of the Seven Fishes. The Russian-Jewish-Italian-English-Irish-Japanese-American-Canadian HG/BSK family gives this Italian tradition a twist by focusing on smoked fish from New York’s venerable Russ & Daughters. SJ brought the goodies from New York) with a stop at Kossar’s Bialys for authentic bialys and great bagels). There were two kinds of herring (Fresh fillets from Holland and German-style roll mops). Three kinds of smoked salmon (Western Atlantic Nova, Gaspe Bay Nova and Double Smoked Danish). Two types of caviar (salmon and topiko). Sable. And, R & D’s signature chopped whitefish and baked salmon salad. Count them. Nine seafood varieties. The family believes in abundance. Olives. Capers. Three varieties of cream cheese. Sliced onions. Celeriac salad. Hearts of Palm and tomato salad. Sour cream. Creme fraiche. Gifted Daughter Lesley R. made blinis and delightful crepes enriched with buttermilk. HG drank (okay, guzzled) lots of icy vodka and ale chasers (drawing some frowns). Other family members practiced moderation. Wonderful, joyous feast. A happy family tradition.

Watch out Barney Greengrass, Zabar’s, Russ & Daughters. The By the Bay Fish Mart in St. Peter’s, Prince Edward Island, is catching up. The proprietor, HG’s favorite fish purveyor, Sheryll O’ Hanley, has added smoked mackerel to the store’s pungent treats which include Nova Scotia smoked salmon and peppered salmon spears, cold smoked in the Pacific style. The smoked mackerel is remarkable. Moist. Full of flavor. Accented, but not overwhelmed, by smoke. HG has enjoyed mackerel in the form of sashimi and sushi (daughter-in-law Exquisite Maiko crafts these Japanese treats beautifully.) Gifted Daughter Lesley does broiled mackerel in a tasty Provencal manner. In Paris, HG has often relished marinated maquerau. But, HG has never encountered smoked mackerel anywhere but Prince Edward Island with By The Bay purveying the finest example. Great appetizer with a drizzle of olive oil, a squeeze of lemon and a grind of pepper. Equally nice on a bagel with cream cheese and sliced, sweet onion. Sheryll told HG her mackerel is caught off PEI and then shipped to a venerable smokehouse in Novia Scotia. Sheryll sells the fish freshly smoked, never frozen. Reminded HG of HG/BSK’s days on historic Nantucket Island. A young man sold freshly smoked bluefish door-to-door. It became so popular he expanded his operations and soon only frozen was available. Sad. It neither tasted the same nor did it texturally hold up. HG hopes that his favorite smoked mackerel avoids that ignominious fate.

In New York, Nova Scotia smoked salmon is always called, with affection, Novy. It is one of HG’s favorite foods. Less salty than traditional lox and moister than Scotch or Irish smoked salmon. When HG lived on Manhattan’s West Side, a few short blocks from Zabar’s, the great smoked fish (and other splendid edibles) emporium, HG often breakfasted on a warm bialy decked with cream cheese and topped with Novy and capers. The shores of Nova Scotia are only a few miles from HG/BSK’s Prince Edward Island home so the local fish merchant always has Novy in stock (at a much lower price than Zabar’s or SJ’s beloved Russ & Daughters). BSK likes Novy on dense black bread purchased at PEI’s Farmers Market. HG finds the bread too assertive. If no bialys or bagels are at hand, HG enjoys his Novy sauteed with chopped onions in butter and mixed with softly scrambled eggs. Either way, HG’sh Novy breakfast tradition continues to be observed from the streets of Manhattan all the way to the shores of Eastern Canada.

There are few things better than a plate of softly scrambled fresh eggs with buttered, toasted bread. Brew robust cafe au lait and a super breakfast is at hand. Unfortunately, you cannot have this dish in a diner, cafe or restaurant. Always disappointing. You must do the dish at home. Whisk together two eggs with a bit of milk (or heavy cream if you are feeling decadent). Melt butter (lots of butter — this is an indulgent dish, not a heart healthy, everyday treat like HG’s beloved Cheerios). Keep the heat very low. Add the eggs to the pan and stir gently. As mellow curds start to form, add a touch (little bit, don’t douse it) of heavy sweet cream. After the soft golden mix of eggs absorbs the cream, serve immediately. As for the bread. Forget the toaster. Grill thick slices of country bread on your range and have softened butter in readiness. For some extra zing give your plate of eggs a few drops of Tabasco or a discreet dusting of smoked Spanish pimenton. If you really want to go overboard, top the eggs with a spoonful of good quality red salmon caviar (try Zabar’s or Russ & Daughters for sourcing) and a bit of creme fraiche. Bacon (or ham) and eggs is for the common folk. This dish is the province of aristocrats, Kings and Princes.

HG has often penned sentimental, tearful reminiscences about the days when black, lush Iranian and Russian Beluga, Sevruga and Grosrybest caviar was affordable and could be consumed in large quantities. Caviarteria and Zabar’s provided this good stuff and it became a staple at HG family celebrations. Gone are those days. Now,only Russian oligarchs and hedge fund billionaires can afford it. ( Plutocrats also lack a conscience. This enables them to eat this over-fished and unsustainable foodstuff). However, there is a silver (or red) lining. Red salmon caviar is still available, in plentiful supply and priced appropriately. Russ & Daughters sells Alaskan Wild Salmon Caviar for $40 for an 8.8 oz.crock. Zabar’s red salmon caviar is a bit cheaper but the Russ & D. product is just a mite better. There are three good ways to eat the product. HG’s top choice is with blini and creme fraiche. (Excellent blini can be made from Roger Sherman’s recipe in the Canal House cookbook). Number two is with very, very softly scrambled eggs and creme fraiche (or sour cream) and some fried onions. Number three is stuffed into a baked potato with plenty of butter and sour cream. HG and BSK’s grandson, Handsome Haru, likes to top a bowl of Japanese rice with the caviar.

Permit HG a nostalgic Beluga detour. In the early 60’s, HG lifted weights and played racquetball at a W. 45th Street gym. A companion was a large man who had a delectable job. He was a sales manager of the Romanoff Caviar Company, a leading importer of Russian caviar. Every Saturday morning, HG would bring to the gym a bottle of icy vodka, sweet butter and a loaf of Russian pumpernickel. HG’s comrade brought a one pound (yes, one pound) jar of Beluga. After their exercises were complete, the healthy duo consumed this wonderful snack. Sadly, HG’s comrade died prematurely and the Beluga orgy ended. But, Russ & D.’s product remains to bring solace to HG’s golden years.

The late, great journalist and press critic, A.J. Liebling, wrote the best book about dining (and Paris): Between Meals. He enjoyed many things besides food and drink (though he literally ate and drank himself to death). The Sweet Science reflects his love of boxing. The Jollity Building, The Honest Rainmaker and Earl of Louisiana are testimony to his fascination with raffish and outsize characters. He also had a nice habit of linking amorous pleasure with gustatory delight. He said the hearty eater thinking about the next fine meal is like the lover contemplating a future assignation. There is a threefold pleasure: Anticipation. Consummation. Reflection. HG thought about this as he opened a Fed Ex box from the wonderful Lower East Side smoked fish emporium, Russ & Daughters. It was packed meticulously and everything arrived in perfect condition. Smoked salmon. Sable. Salmon Caviar. Herring. Various fish salads. Cream cheese. Creme Fraiche. The bialys were a pleasant surprise. Oniony. Lightly browned. The real deal. When the last bialys from Russ were not gold standard, SJ admonished HG: “You don’t order herring from a bakery. You don’t order bialys from an appetizing store.” This batch of super-bialys proves SJ may be in error. As the chef/writer/television personality Anthony Bourdain has written: “Forget the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty…New York’s greatest living institution is very likely Russ & Daughters: A temple of uniquely New York deliciousness, Zen-like perfection and a repository of generations of wisdom and experience.”

Anyway. The Polish vodka is in the freezer. Anchor ale and Muscadet are in the refrigerator. All is in readiness for a David F. birthday party. Known as “The Dude,” (because of his resemblance to the protagonist of The Big Lebowski,) David F. is a bon vivant, novelist and former innovative educator. Should be a swell party. Meanwhile there is Anticipation. Consummation and Reflection will come later.

This might be the best Christmas holiday ever. It began with the surprise gift to Beautiful Granddaughter Sofia R. of Pippy, certainly the most enchanting puppy HG has ever encountered. Then the traditional Feast of the Seven Fishes (Jewish-Japanese-Italian style as befitting the multi-ethnic group). Three types of smoked salmon; smoked tuna; wasabi enhanced flying fish roe (Tobiko); whitefish; sable; red salmon caviar. All prime stuff from Russ & Daughters on New York’s Lower East Side. SJ also provided the table with plenty of scallion cream cheese and superior Kosar’s bialys, bagels and that baked rarity — the old fashioned “pletzel” (onion roll). Big bowls of sour cream plus raw onions, capers, lemon wedges and three varieties of pickles (sour, half-sours and green tomatoes). Lesely R. made her ethereal blinis and crepes while SJ sizzled his superb, crisp potato pancakes. But, for HG, the star of the feast was herring, namely raw Dutch herring from the cold waters of the Netherlands coast. HG coated the delicious morsels with chopped raw onions. Chilled Tito’s Vodka. Black and Tan (Guinesss Stout and Bass Ale, mixed half-and-half). HG drank these accompaniments to happy excess. Christmas morning, HG received gala gifts — a cane topped with the ivory head of a fierce eagle from Lesley and Massimo R.; a soft and warm flannel nightshirt plus nightcap; A Russian faux fur hat emblazoned with the hammer and sickle (warming gifts from BSK who likes a Heated Hubby); old time candy bars and a wanted book from SJ; a copy of the latest installment of Robert Caro’s monumental biography of LBJ and other literature from L. and M. R.; granola of the gods handcrafted by Gifted Granddaughter Arianna R. L. and M.R. gave BSK the complete Hellen Mirren/ “Prime Suspect” DVDs (perfect for chill weather viewing), SJ presented BSK with her own website, putting BSK’s glorious pottery online. Everyone else received thoughtful and glorious gifts. Wishes were fulfilled. Joy was unconfined. Sometimes materialism is sheer fun. Christmas Day dinner was a rerun of the previous feast with the addition of chopped liver plus pastrami and tongue from Katz’s Deli in New York plus smoked ham sourced by SJ from the illustrious Polish butcher, Jubilat Provisions in Brooklyn. Because of eccentric schedules and the arrival of Restaurateur Daughter Victoria F. on the day after Christmas, the Christmas dinner of brisket and assorted good things will be delayed for a day. Worth waiting for. (Also, HG must fully recover from much ingestion of an after dinner alcoholic digestif, Limoncello, handcrafted by Lesley R. for her bibulous Dad).

No, HG is not referring to that member of the Russian marten family whose luxurious pelts are favored by the world’s wealthiest and most luxuriously dressed women. HG refers to the fish known as sable (or black cod or sablefish). Its habitat is the deep waters of the North Pacific. Smoked sable, in HG’s opinion, is far preferable to smoked sturgeon. Moister. A more buttery taste. A better mouth feel. The best sable comes from the venerable Russ & Daughters on New York’s lower east side. Happily, it can be ordered online. HG likes it on Jewish rye bread or Russian pumpernickel lavishly spread with good cream cheese. A grind of black pepper is obligatory. HG banishes lemon as interfering with the taste. Accompanies the treat`with icy vodka. But, this isn’t the only way to eat sable. Trader Joe’s now carries very estimable frozen unsmoked filets of sable. All they need is a gentle saute. Flavor them with a bit of soy sauce and maple syrup. The salty/sweet mix will accent the richness of the fish. Delicious and healthy. Lots of valuable Omega 3.