My mouth waters at the image of an elegant eclair, its pate choux puffed up and golden brown, decadently glazed in shiny dark chocolate ganache. Do I dare turn the page? I do!
Tempted to read on? Click on this link to The Book Studio to check out my book review of "Paris Patisseries: History, Shops, Recipes."
Just the thing for a rotten, miserable, snowy, rainy, blustery day -- a miracle of an Ice Cream Sandwich from the West Village trattoria Gonzo. This isn't your typical soft serve vanilla squished between slender chocolate cookies. This is house-made vanilla gelato scooped up and served between two crunchy pecan-praline meringue clouds, fragrant with brown sugar, and drizzled with dark chocolate sauce.
Suddenly, a chilly dessert doesn't sound like such a bad idea on this bone-chilling evening, does it?
You may have noticed a few changes in the look of VittlesVamp. Spring is several weeks away, but I still felt like it was time for a bit of renewal. A sprucing up seemed in order.
My revamp isn't over. Expect a few other changes and tweaks.
In a few short weeks the spring radishes will once again make an appearance at Greenmarkets around New York. By that time my redesign should be fully in place.
Maybe I'll celebrate by dunking a few of these gorgeous pink beauties in a salty bagna cauda, dining on them lustfully alongside a bottle of vino. Hopefully with company.
Let me know if you have any suggestions for the site, festive springtime fare and/or if you wish to join my table when the time comes -- because when the revamp is done, I'll surely be ready to relax.
No sooner do I start kvetching about yet another sushi addition in a one-block radius, when I am invited into Clark Street's yet-to-be opened Ozu for a sneak peek.
Hmmm...Looks like a fairly glam setup for the neighborhood. Elegant banquettes line the right, while a sophisticated marble and slate bar takes up the left, with stylish sea green tile work behind and impressive modern lighting fixtures hung above.
This is the owners' first foray into the city (or at least into Kings County), with two Sumou Sushi outposts already firmly planted in suburban Long Island. But, this new Japanese-fusion spot promises to take the swank up a notch from its "Giland" brethren in both kitchen and front of house.
So, I eat my words. Hopefully, I'll also enjoy eating some of Ozu's fancy fare in two week's time.
P.S. Apparently this new Brookylyn Heights Ozu is no relation to the UWS Kosher Japanese establishment of the same name. Therefore, we can rest assured that Manischewitz won't be the only wine at the bar.
After the middling pan-Asian restaurant Sea Asian decided to move to a less expensive Livingston Street location in the Heights, I had hopes that a fun new spot would take its place on Clark Street. Perhaps a branch of Brooklyn Larder? Or something from the guys behind Frankie's Sputino?
Apparently, my hopes are likely to be dashed. Word in the nabe is that yet another sushi joint is about to set up shop. That's right. A new sushi place directly across from Sushi Gallery and a block away from Iron Chef House.
I'm sorry, but how much sushi do we eat here in Brooklyn Heights? I am totally into the Japanophile thing, but c'mon. Couldn't we at least get an authentic ramen shop instead?
It's been a while since I posted. All it took was a sandwich to inspire the words. It took a sandwich filled with melt-in-your-mouth slabs of tender pork done up Puerto Rican-style at Chelsea's grubby, but oh-so-good lunch counter, La Taza de Oro.
The sandwich's lettuce, tomato and slathering of mayo were unnecessary. The slices of day-glo American cheese proved a distraction. In end, it was all about the artful, juicy, well-seasoned play between the meat and the crusty roll. Several dashes of La Taza de Oro's housemade chili-packed hot sauce and the sandwich starting singing Latin American love songs to my taste buds.
Washing it down with a strong Cafe con Leche, happiness reigned supreme. And when the ever-so-gentle bill arrived, my smile remained.
La Taza de Oro - a restaurant for the recessionista and Latina in all of us.
First I met a friendly butcher. So friendly that he offered to get me a shopping basket while I perused the selection of chickens. So friendly that he even placed a special order for me for pick-up on Monday. I was there when he called it in, demanding the highest quality for a "special customer."
What was really weird about it though: I've been going to this Gristedes for years and never once laid eyes on a butcher. Ever! Was he simply a figment of my foodie imagination? Guess I'll find out on Monday.
But the freakiness didn't end at the butcher aisle. It continued at the checkout aisle, where Cheryl Lynn's classic disco tune Got To Be Real blasted from the speakers, inspiring a checkout cashier to start shimmying. The song got to me too. I was possessed. I started swaying. We synced up our dance moves. Whooping and gyrating commenced.
I'm home now. Shopping bags unpacked. And I still have a bit of groove in my step. Gristedes groove.
Who would have guessed it was possible?
I had the distinct honor and incredible pleasure of meeting one of my idols last week: Chef Michael Romano of Union Square Cafe fame.
I've been a longtime fan and seized the opportunity to place the winning bid on one of his chef's knives during a recent Slow Food NYC auction.
It took a while, but finally I was able to secure a coveted time slot to pick it up from the "man behind the Filet Mignon of Tuna."
He made it worth the wait. Dressed in a dapper suit and tie and wearing a warm smile, Romano offered a chuckle as he noticed that my copy of the Union Square Cafe Cookbook was a first edition. He pointed out some secret "mistakes" in the well-worn book and then proceeded to sign it in bright red ink before he handed me my real prize -- a handsome Wusthof knife.
And, as I tucked it in my leather bag to keep the blade safe and sound, I asked for one more little favor from Chef Romano: a snapshot. As you can see, he amiably complied. Heck, he was even a good sport about offering up a "V" for the photo. A "V" not so much for victory, but for VittlesVamp.
It goes without saying, he's no longer just an idol. Now, I've got a bit of a crush as well.
Despite the recent heatwave, with temperatures hitting the balmy 40s, overall it's been a blustery winter. The season's chill calls for stews, soups and, in my case, a warming bowl of pasta or two -- or three. And, nothing says comforting Mediterranean rustic like al dente rigatoni, pappardelle or penne tossed in a tomato-rich meat sauce.
Above, a special appetizer portion of fresh rigatoni from the theater district's Southern French brasserie Marseille. True solace after braving fierce winds in search of fine dining following a Time Square flick.
Below, Falai Caffe's ever-popular Butternut Squash pappardelle with Wild Boar Ragu, gorgeous to look at and gorgeous to eat.
And, last but not least, my own homemade penne rendition made with San Marzano tomatoes, butter, a splash of Balsamic vinegar, sweet Italian sausage, sauteed red onion, fresh julienned basil and a grating of sharp Pecorino cheese.
Don't for a second think I'm done. We have more than two months of frosty weather to contend with here in NYC. Another bowl of bolognese will likely be necessary.
According to today's Wall Street Journal, the "Underwear Bomber" may not have have caused the destruction he desired, but oddly enough, he has dashed the dreams of meat-loving Americans.
In the wake of Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab's failed underpants bombing attempt on Christmas, the new slate of airport scrutiny -- pat-down searches, body scans and more-meticulous baggage examinations -- is throwing a monkey wrench in the plans of chefs hoping to sneak in a salami or ham from a faraway land:
Such measures might discourage terrorists, but they are also likely to catch chefs smuggling meat from Europe. Chefs such as Rey Knight, who once flew from Italy to Miami with a pork shoulder and fennel-pollen salami vacuum-sealed and hidden inside a stainless-steel water bottle. Another time, he says, he hid a 4-pound goose-liver torchon from France inside the belly of a salmon...
...Mr. Knight and other chefs go to such lengths because it is illegal to bring many of the world's most treasured meats into the country. (Fish are OK.) The government calls this smuggling. But chefs say their motives are mainly educational: They use them to reverse-engineer their own versions.
Apparently, Knight and other carnivore devotees have gone as far as to hire professional labs to analyze the foreign finocchiona and such, in order to recreate it here in the States. An admirable pursuit in my opinion, but customs officials seem to disagree:
Smuggling is something you do with drugs or kids," jokes executive chef Chris Cosentino, whose San Francisco restaurant Incanto specializes in dishes that use most every part of an animal. "Our goal is to improve the food system."...
...Because customs officials once caught him with sausages made from donkey parts hidden in shoes packed in his luggage, Mr. Cosentino's bags were already subject to extra attention. He once got around that by duct taping to the inside of his blue jeans seeds for a special variety of chicory he found at a pet-food store in Bologna, Italy. Scanners able to see through clothing, now being installed in many foreign airports, should put an end to such practices.
Don't the U.S. Customs Office and Office of Homeland Security have more important things to worry about than these sorts of chef shenanigans?
An Egg McMuffin gone to gourmet nirvana is what this is. Courtesy of Bark's weekend-only breakfast menu, it's a toasted Bay's English Muffin topped with a slow-cooked and butter-drizzled egg, crisp slices of smoked bacon, and a melted slice of sharp Grafton Cheddar. All in all, a serious breakfast -- especially if you order up a side of the Park Slope hot doggery's Hash Browns...
More Tater Tot than Hash Brown-esque, these lightly fried, deep brown beauties won't take you back to the childhood you remember. They'll take you to the childhood you wish you had. One that features sublime, savory Potato Beignets.
Heck, forget about childhood. I'm just glad that I am having an adulthood that has finally convinced me that breakfast is indeed the most important meal of the day.
Likely that isn't what the new owners of the Clark Street subway arcade deli had in mind when they renamed the spot from its former moniker, Chess Classic Cafe. Nevertheless, I stopped short when I saw the new sign.
TranZEat Cafe
I know they are trying to play on the word "transit," but when you say it out loud you can't help but conjure up thoughts of Hedda Lettuce and Lypsinka convening there for a morning coffee and bagel.
