VittlesVamp

Cookie! Cookie! Cookie! Cookie! Cookie!

'Tis the season. Time for cookies to come out of the oven and take center stage.

And, take center stage they did at my pal Max's cookie swap last night. His dining room table was brimming with cookies by the dozen, a mind-boggling array of freshly baked treats.

My fave? I had two. First up, savory buttery coins dotted with briny black olive bits. Hoping that this is the recipe, so I can make them at home. My second pick was actually my own cookies. A tad full of myself? Perhaps, but my Crunchy Jumble cookies won plenty of kudos from other party guests.

A classic from my childhood, this cookie marries the traditional chocolate chipper to the snap, crackle and pop of Rice Krispies. They are all at once light and buttery and remarkably crisp, studded with chocolate for good measure.

I'd say that I'd make them for next year's cookie swap, but the truth is that I don't want to swap them at all!

Crunchy Jumbles

1 1/4 cup flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 stick butter (room temperature)
1 cup sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
2 cups Rice Krispies
1 cup chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Combine flour, baking soda and salt. In a separate large bowl combine butter and sugar. Add egg and vanilla to butter mixture. Incorporate flour mixture one-third at a time until well mixed. Add cereal and chips. Drop by rounded tablespoon on cookie sheets with parchment paper. Bake 15 minutes. Makes 30 - 36 cookies.

The Traditional Thanksgivukkah Meal With All The Trimmings

There was no way in hell that I was letting a "once in 125 years" opportunity slip by without a nod, or in this case, a wink. My first course on T-Day paid heed indeed. And it was freakin' delicious.

I riffed on my previous Thanksgiving riff on nachos: topping low-salt potato chips with a dollop of creme fraiche, a generous spoon of caviar, and then a shower wof freshly snipped chives. This year, my variation ixnayed the chips and substituted them with silver dollar-sized latkes. A brilliant Judaic modification on an already bizarre, decadent twist on a Mexican-American favorite. All-in-all a perfect way to start the holiday feast, especially when followed by this Thanksgivukkah classic...

...served with the obligatory cocktail and remoulade sauces for dipping.

I only wish I could have had a menorah constructed out of bacon as the dinner's centerpiece. Well, maybe next year. (Or, at the very least, maybe in another 125 years.)

Don't Dis The Raisin

It's time to stand up for the wee raisin. All too often, baked goods are passed over when someone learns that they are dotted with raisins instead of chocolate chips or nuts. It's a real shame.

A prime example: The burnished and buttery Raisin Danish featured above was had at Maison Kayser in the Flatiron District. It was a beauty, studded with plump golden raisins. Wholly satisfying.

I think the real trick with raisins is in the plumping. Don't simply toss them into a recipe without giving them the love they need in advance. Let them steep in hot water or, better yet, some heated rum, bourbon or vino. Once they are ever-so-slightly reconstituted, they offer a sweet luscious addition to cakes, pies, muffins and more.

And, if you really can't bear to give raisins the old college try, maybe you should attempt to embrace their kissing cousin: the dried currant. These tiny morsels, also in need of a bit of rehydrating affection, aren't just ideal for scones, but play well in savory dishes too. In fact, I'm planning a Thanksgiving stuffing that includes these tart berries alongside sourdough bread, scallions, garlic and toasted pine nuts.

I don't know how many readers I'll really convince with this missive. But, I can assure you that you are missing out if you choose to reject the glory of the raisin.

Well, guess that leaves more Raisin Danish, Raisin Oatmeal Cookies, Currant Scones, and alike for me. And, I'll probably get to actually have some T-day stuffing leftovers for a change too!

I Missed My 10th Anniversary

I missed it. Missed it by a long-shot. VittlesVamp's 10th anniversary was September 17th. Today is November 9th. Think I'm going to have to make this up to myself big time.

At least I took the opportunity - albeit a belated one - to flashback to 2003. Couldn't help but smirk at the very first post, which detailed my quest to find frozen yogurt that tasted like yogurt; you know, with that authentic "yogurty" tart flavor.

Flashforward to 2013 to see ubiquitous Pinkberry and Red Mango outposts at-the-ready to fill that FroYo craving.

Was it all due to VittlesVamp's incredible influence? Don't think we'll ever know for sure...

Whether or not I can stake claim to the trend, I think 10 years is still worth celebrating - or at least worthy of a gift. Apparently the traditional 10th anniversary gift needs to involve tin. I imagine that a roll of heavy duty tinfoil will be in order pre-Thanksgiving anyway, so that's taken care of. Yet, if I go with the more modern theme option, I'm supposed to get myself some diamond jewelry.

This could get pricey.

Then again, I'm worth it.

Diamonds, Reynolds Wrap and a swirl of FroYo. Sounds perfect.

The Last of the Heirlooms

Boy, that went fast. It seemed like the Heirloom tomatoes of the season had just arrived and now they are about to fade away.

My favorite way to devour them this year? In salad form with a dressing of lime juice. sea salt, freshly cracked pepper, a pinch of sugar and a great deal of cumin, whipped to into a vinaigrette frenzy with good olive oil. I then add some chunks of rich avocado and a chiffonade of fresh mint.

Sounds delicious, doesn't it?

So, run out to the nearest greenmarket or produce stand and load up on the Heirlooms while you can. The season is all too short and these beauties are big on flavor!

Yes, Virginia, There is Great Mexican Food in New York City

I've heard many bemoan the state of the Mexican food scene in New York City. I'm sick of it! So is food writer Ligaya Mishan, who addresses the topic in the latest Hungry City column in the New York Times.

Admittedly, we don't live in Los Angeles or even Houston, where the Mexican culinary offerings are consistently top-notch. That said, please note that both of those cities are home to several branches of Taco Bell. (On the flip-side, I am always embarrassed that Domino's seems to thrive in the five boroughs. But, pizza isn't the focus today...)

New York may not have as many excellent Mexican restaurants, but it does have some -- and they are fantastic. In addition to the brilliant Mexican food trucks and carts that dot the city, NYC boasts some terrific Mexican dining spots.

First up, have you visited Sunset Park's Little Latin America? If not, I suggest a food crawl ASAP to tuck into Lengua Tacos, Carnita Tacos, Arabes Tacos and overstuffed Chorizo and Egg Tortas that will make you cry delicioso!

Looking for your Mexican in a fancier environment? Check out Hecho en Dumbo, which moved a while back to the East Village. Reserve a seat in the kitchen to enjoy the restaurant's Chef's Table five-course, which will set before you to a whole new range of Mexican flavors and textures. Fonda, with outposts in Park Slope and the East Village, is also a lovely spot to get some authentic Mexican dishes. And if you're in the Theater District, you would be remiss not to stop by Toloache, if only for an introduction to Mexico's version of the Ceviche, and an order of the De Lechon (aka Suckling Pig) Tacos.

Game for a trip on the 7 traib to Long Island City, Queens? Then, I strongly advise a visit to Casa Enrique. A photo of this Mexican jewel's Guacamole is above, but make sure to also order the Puebla dish of Mole De Piaxtla, a plate of chicken enchiladas enrobed in a vibrant, rich sauce of dry peppers, almonds, raisins, plantain, sesame seeds and chocolate, beautifully striped with a piping of sour cream.

So, move to Los Angeles if you must. That just leaves more amazing Mexican food in New York for the rest of us.

The Big Fix

Things go wrong. It is the nature of things. But there is that critical break or make moment when you have a chance to take a problem and turn it around. That's what hospitality is all about, and a fairly new Brooklyn Heights neighborhood spot called Red Gravy did a hospitality pas de deux the other night that deserves applause.

The evening started out well enough. At arrival, albeit, 10 minutes late for our reservation, I arrived with my pal Jenn, the birthday girl, in tow for a celebratory dinner. The woman at the check-in stand said it would be another 10 minutes and suggested we wait at the bar. Only one seat was left at the corner, so we edged our way in and ordered a round. Then our other dinner companion arrived and we tried to make the most of our limited real estate, as Jenn let it be known that she was starving. I checked back in with the front desk and was told it would be yet another 10 - 15 minutes. I grimaced, mentioning that the birthday girl was hungry, asking if anything could be done. I received shrug.

Harumph!

I went back to the bar to ask if Jenn could hold out for another 10 - 15 minutes. Now it was her turn to grimace. I marched back to the check-in stand and now a gentleman was there, who saw that I was a bit distressed and graciously asked how he could help. I let him know about the grumbling tummy at the bar and asked if we could possibly get some bread. "Of course," he replied and quickly headed to the kitchen.

A few minutes later he not only presented us with some warm bread and bean dip, but some lovely fried Arancini Balls stuffed with Smoked Mozzarella on the house. Nice!

Showed to our table another 10 minutes later, we saw that glasses of Prosecco had been set in front of our plates -- compliments of the house with regrets that it took a while to get seated. Very nice!

Menus in hand we batted back and forth a variety of delectable Italian options settling on an Uni Carpaccio special to start, followed by two pastas, and then a Grilled Steak with Lentils, along with a side of stewed eggplant. Sipping our fizzy wine, we were contented and Jenn was particularly excited to try the uni, as it was one of her favorites.

Then the waiter returned with apologies. Apparently, we had been given old menus. The steak dish wasn't available.

Harumph!

We asked for the menus back to figure out another game plan. He went to fetch them and returned with good news and bad: We had the right menus after all and could have the steak. However, they were out of the uni. At this point we just started laughing and perused the menu for a substitute. Then the manager came over and let us know that they were going send out a couple of appetizers to make up for the uni being sold out. So nice!

Totally unnecessary, but I have to say it was the kind of move that will make me not only return to Red Gravy, but recommend it to others.

Oh, and then the meal began to arrive. It was delicious, from Meatballs with Soft Polenta to Cavatelli with Corn, Pancetta and Tarragon. The steak was also superb.

But, wait -- where was the eggplant? We called over our waiter to ask and he went to the kitchen to check. Within moments he returned with a look of dismay, telling us that he had forgotten to put the eggplant order in. Giggling at the ongoing comedy of errors, we told him not to worry about it. It happens and we were more than fine!

And yet, a few minutes later the manager came up to the table, eggplant in hand to say this too was on the house.

Wow! Really, really nice!

Then the team at Red Gravy gilded the lilly at dessert, giving us an additional sweet and a round of dessert wine to boot.

All of this didn't just confirm my resolve to return and recommend the restaurant, but now I was inspired to write a blog post too.

Impressive to say the least. A bunch of missteps turned into a gigantic hospitality win. Needless to say, I hope all goes smoothly the next time I go to Red Gravy. But, if it doesn't, I know I'll be in good hands.

Breakfast in Ireland

Growing up, Mama Vamp always let me know that breakfast was the most important meal of the day. As an adult (of sorts), I've morphed that advice into a quick coffee before 9am. If I'm truly peckish, I might throw a banana or a scoop of cottage cheese into my morning routine. But, during my recent trip to Cork County, Ireland I realized that the "ish" in Jewish mama and Irish mum most certainly align at breakfast time. And with food this good, who was I to argue?

Start with strong pot of fragrant Irish Breakfast Tea and you're well on your way. Then there are eggs. But these eggs are farm fresh with deep golden yolks that make you want to say "top o' the mornin' to yah" in a totally unironic way. Of course there is also sausage, plenty of links, black pudding and white pudding too. And then there are sauteed mushrooms and roasted tomatoes.

That's just the beginning.

Did I mention the bread? We're not just talking white toast. That's available, but there are also buttery scones and slices of dark brown bread pebbled with oatmeal goodness. And to put atop? Fresh, melt-in-your-mouth, just-churned butter. (No freakin' wonder there is an actual Butter Museum in downtown Cork!)

Care for some cheese? Of course you do! Try some Cork County specialties like Oak-Smoked Gubeen, Cashel Blue and Glebe Brethan. Or how about some Cahill's Porter Cheddar from nearby Limerick? It combines sharp, tangy cheese with Irish porter to a lovely marbled effect.

There are also gorgeous slender slices of Irish smoked salmon at-the-ready. And, homemade jams and compotes starring fresh-picked rhubarb, blueberries or apricots are also on the table. Mix them with some creamery yogurt for a touch of dessert at the end of the meal.

Thankfully, the trip was only four days long. I'm back to my coffee and banana regimen, but every once in a while I dream of farmyard eggs and cheese graced by sweet, dark beer.

Clearly, the breakfast of champions.

Adventures in Amsterdam

If it is possible, Amsterdam seemed even more vibrant and welcoming this time around than during my trip 20 years ago. Maybe it was because I lucked out and had brilliant, sunny weather throughout my stay. Or, perhaps, the city seemed to embrace summer at every turn. Or, then again, it may have been because I had a couple of friends giving me their insider perspectives on the Dam.

Within hours of arrival, my new gal pal Jennifer was at the Hotel Vondel's door to pick me up. A former Brooklynite who originally hails from Curacao, she helms a cheeky food blog and was ready, willing and quite able to guide me through the city streets and onto some eating adventures.

Stay tuned for more on our snacking food tour of the city, but one dining memory I must share is a mindblowing Rijstafel dinner we enjoyed at an Indonesian hot spot called Restaurant Blauw. As is the custom, plate after plate of tongue-tingling, aromatic dishes were loaded on our table for the gorging, from Lamb in an Indonesian Curry and Coconut Sauce with Cinnamon to Fish in a Candlenut Sauce to Goat Sate Grilled on a skewer served in a Hot Soy Sauce, and so much more. Add rice, a sprinkle of toasted coconut on top and we were summarily heaven bound.

*In the non-food realm, Jennifer led me to one of the most tranquil spots in the city, an historic courtyard cut off from Amsterdam's bustle...

Called the Begijnhof, the idyllic square dates back to the 14th century and used to serve as a sanctuary.

*After experiencing the beauty of the the Begijnhof, Jennifer insisted that we travel a little further in time, to 1679 to be exact. She directed me to the tasting room of the Wynand Fockink Distillery...

...where we joined in the tradition of stooping over brimming glassfuls of potent Dutch liqueurs to take our first slurps. Centuries' old recipes with names like Bridal Kiss, The Walk In The Woods and Eau de Ma Tante were on the menu, but my choice was Abrikoos, an apricot liqueur that immediately brought a smile to my lips and a woozy rush to the rest of my body.

*Speaking of alcohol, as one might expect in the home of Heineken, beer was had. But have no fear, I bypassed that bland brew for a couple of local gems, including a dark malty Brouwerij't Ij Natte and fragrantly hoppy Brouwerij De Molen Amarillo.

*Art was given its due with a sojourn to the Rijksmuseum to ogle Rembrandts, Van Goghs and alike. I also visited a photography museum called FOAM to enjoy an eye-popping exhibition of Edward Steichen's fashion photography from the 20's and 30's.

*The best breakfast of the trip? It was had at lunch...

...when I tucked into a Dutch pancake with ham and cheese at the aptly named Pancakes! Amsterdam, located in one of the city's most charming shopping districts, The Nine Streets. Looking at the dish (pictured above), I couldn't decide if this delicacy was really pancake, a pizza or a crepe. One bite and I didn't care what it was. It was simply freakin' delicious.

*Later in the trip, my newly transplanted pal Amelia, who is staking claim in the Dam after years of living in Shanghai, directed me to some of the city's most intriguing modern design stores, including The Frozen Fountain and Moooi. Not my style, but definitely worth a look-see.

*But my favorite moment of all? I guess I'll have to say moments -- because I treated myself to not only one, but two separate canal tours that took my breath away...

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Hot Dam!

Hot Dam!

About to head to JFK and board KLM on a flight bound for AMS.

That's right: Amsterdam.

That's right: HERRING! And, perhaps some Stroopwafels, Bitterballen and Indonesian fare thrown in the mix as well.

You'll hear from me upon my return...

When Restaurant Week Goes Right

I used to love taking advantage of Restaurant Week, checking out hot spots that I might not visit otherwise if it wasn't for the special menu that was kind on the wallet.

Over the past few years, however, I've found myself going out of my way to avoid Restaurant Week spots (especially hard, since the "week" has now ballooned into a full month). Lunches and dinners at restaurants participating are usually jam-packed and the quality of service and food often takes a sharp tumble to boot.

So, it was a happy accident when I stumbled into two separate lunches last week that were both lovely -- and part of the Restaurant Week hoopla.

First up was The Dutch. The place was buzzing, but no more so than on an average sunny afternoon in Soho. Our Southern-bred waiter was pleasant and on top of his game. Biting into a salad of Beets, Avocado, Cloumage Cheese and Pistachios and I knew the kitchen was on top of its game too. And then there was the chicken -- Fried Chicken graced with touch of chili heat, served alongside Honey Biscuits and a vinegary-tart Cole Slaw.

Oh yes, this was the real deal, no matter if I was getting a deal when it came to the meal's price tag.

Keeping the theme of great poultry in play, my next unexpected Restaurant Week lunch was in the West Village at Mas (la grillade), a warm and welcoming charmer with sunshine streaming in from an oversized skylight. After ordering a glass of Cremant and tucking into a perfectly seared piece of Duck Confit, served up with Grilled Corn, Pickled Eggplant, Bacon and Swiss Chard, I was feeling quite cosseted. Pictured above, I have to say that this is most certainly one of the best duck dishes in all of New York City, the meat meltingly tender and rich with flavor, offset by the crisp skin and melange of flavors and textures in the glorious riff on succotash below.

And, as an extra incentive to return, my waitress let me know that the restaurant regularly serves up a three-course lunch menu throughout the year -- for only three dollars more than during Restaurant Week.

In the end, I guess what I shunned has showed me up by showing me a good time. Will I still stay away from Restaurant Week reservations in the future? Probably. But, I will happy to revisit to The Dutch and Mas (la grillade) at any time of year, Restaurant Week included.

Not Just Cigarette Iconography Anymore: Camel Milk Chocolate

So, my archaeologically-inclined pal Kristin went to Oman on an expedition and decided to bring me back a treat from the Middle East. Some Turkish Delight, perhaps? Nah. That's too common place. Kristin opted for something much more exotic -- Camel Milk Chocolate.

My first thought as she handed me the bar was that "Camel" was simply the name of the brand, not unlike the popular cigarettes.

That wasn't the case.

Camel milk is real. And, apparently camel milk contains five times more vitamin C than cow milk, less fat, less lactose and more insulin.

Who knew?

Well, Middle Easterners have known this for centuries, but I guess I'm more than a bit late to the game.

Late or not, I was intrigued. But, how would it taste?

All in all, it was delicious. There was something hauntingly rich and robust about the bar. I could hardly resist another bite, and another, and another.

Will camel milk chocolate be taking the U.S. by storm soon? I hope so. This would be a "desert storm" -- or better yet "dessert storm" -- I could get behind.