VittlesVamp

A Not So Smashing Burger

Everybody seems to love smashburgers - extremely smashed smashburgers - these days. I don't get it. Perfectly good beef is being smashed down flat, sizzled within an inch of its life on a griddle and then slapped on a bun. This isn't just a thin patty, but a pounded-to-pancake-proportions situation.

The hype around one NYC smashburger spot - Hamburger America - has been steady. I finally gave into the siren's call of their Fried Onion Burger. I ventured to SoHo and sidled up a retro-styled counter that made me feel like I had just walked into an Archie comic book. The smell of butter and grease clung to the air, but not necessarily in a bad way. Maybe this time, I would be pleasantly surprised.

Hmmm...I did like the look of the line cook mounding fistfuls of paper-thin onions on top of the meat, squishing it together, pressing it down onto the griddle with the back of a big spatula. And, then there was the sizzle and heady aroma of the onions caramelizing. Maybe the New York Times was right in naming Hamburger America to its list of the top 100 restaurants in the city. Was it possible that I had finally found a smashburger that would have me swooning?

Unfortunately, no. It was too much grease and crunch - and to top it off, it was encased in a butter-toasted bun. In other words, it tasted like a hockey puck met a heart attack.

Am I open to trying another seriously flattened smashburger? I am always willing to try, but I am keeping my expectations low. Not flat. Low.

The Ice Have It

It is a scorcher. Hot as Hades. Blistering, baby.

So, I thought I would talk about ice.

Yaaaasssss! Freezing - cold - ice.

Ice is actually much more important to your imbibing pleasure than you may know. Shaking that drink? True that it is meant to get your beverage frosty cold. But it is also to help combine ingredients and add cold water into the drink for a perfectly balanced cocktail.

Then of course there is the type of ice that'll accompany said cocktail in your glass. Type of ice, you ask? Indeed! Restaurants and bars shell out a pretty penny to make sure they have crystal clear ice in 2-inch cubes, spheres, and highball spears. Then there are the pebbled ice drinks - often of the Tiki variety. Case in point, a Van Cortland, featuring bourbon, rum, apricot and a poppyseed orgeat, served with a mountain of pebbled ice at Brooklyn's Grand Army Bar.

Ice is deemed so vital to a proper cocktail experience that a local restauranteur told me that he refused to kick off his cafe's mixology program until he had a serious ice maker with all the bells and whistles. I'm looking forward to those icy bells and those glacial whistles.

Am I buying one of those nifty ice makers for my home? No. I am but a mere home mixologist. My freezer's ice maker will have to do. And with today's temperatures, I'm just happy that the freezer is working.

ABC No More

How can you top a view like this?

That'll do it! Wine tasting at Sphaerics. The wine in question? World-class Chardonnays.

Ordinarily, I am an ABC gal. (AKA "anything but Chardonnay".) This trip to California wine country changed that for me. These Chardonnays weren't viscous, overly rich and redolent of oak. They were bright, complex and offered a light lemony snap.

I was in, all in!

Was the trip all about wine? Now, I did just say that I cooked during this trip. That said, I think my friends Brett and Emily can take the majority of credit for this amazing Thai Grilled Pork and Herb Salad we had one evening...

...But a bottle of the Sphaerics "overline" Chardonnay that I purchased went very well with that dish!

And, visited a handful more wineries too...

That is a snapshot from Rivers-Marie. Their Chardonnay was so marvelous that I ordered three bottles. They are with me now in Brooklyn, in my fridge and at-the-ready.

Let me know when you are coming over and I will grab a bottle and couple glasses.

Getting Back To My Kitchen

Well,that was a whirlwind: Emergencies and non-stop parental care in Philadelphia, followed by a combo of work and pleasure travel, taking me to Mexico City, London and Paris.

Yeah. That was a lot.

Some stressful, to say the least. Some delightful.

But, throughout there was something missing - a part of me, specifically the part that finds soul-stirring comfort in stirring up a pot of something in my kitchen. As evidenced by the Ras al Hanouh-coated Chicken with Peppers, Labne and Fresh Herbs above, that part of me has been reclaimed. I have made Pasta with Seafood, Slow-Roasted Tomatoes and Saffron. I have whipped up a pan of classic Tiramisu. I have braised a Chicken with Coconut Milk, Yellow Thai Curry, and Onions. And, I made Vietnamese Coffee Ice Cream.

And, no sooner do I feel fully back, when I hit the road to California. This time though, I am in Sonoma with a gourmet kitchen at my disposal. (It even has a disposal!) Cooking has been happening. That part of me is finally along for the ride.

April in Paris

I couldn't get the song out of my head...

April in Paris, chestnuts in blossom

Holiday tables under the trees

April in Paris, this is a feeling

No one can ever reprise

You could say that Count Basie was in my head. But then again. Paris was at my feet.

Just a few weeks ago I followed up my business trip to London with a few sunny days in Paris, staying in South Pigalle.

It was worthy of song.

And, the standout meal of the trip was a doozy. It wasn't French. Non! It was elevated Lebanese from Chef Rita Higgins. A powerhouse in the kitchen, Chef Higgins has won acclaim with Kubri, her inventive restaurant in the 11th arrondissement. Just take a look at her version of Kibbeh Nayeh, aka Lamb Tartare...

Let's give this a resounding Oui!

There was no question that Kubri was absolutely baller, when the Shortrib Yakhneh hit the table.

Yes, a Flintstone-sized beauty with beef and tomato gravy, confit tomatoes, cinnamon, and spices and herbs galore...

I could share more, but I think you get the idea. If you are going to Paris, go to Kubri.

With that, let me finish out the month - and this post - by raising a glass of Champagne.

And, may we all be able to do so in Paris with the April sun still shining.

Santé!

Sunny & Sated In London

It was sort of a travel miracle. Sun in London. Yes, sun. Blue skies.

Not only that, but it was warm. Seriously. Sun and warmth at the end of March/beginning of April for five days straight.

Evidence: A photo above taken on March 31 from the patio at Oyster Shed - a glass of rosé, blue skies and The Shard in the distance on the other side of the Thames.

It was glorious.

And, speaking of glorious: Can we talk about the Greek brilliance at Oma in Borough Hall?

Think of dipping freshly baked, warm-from-the-oven breads into Tahini drizzled with Hot Honey and a shower of Crispy Chickpeas.

Then there is this genius reimagining of Spanakopita - in gratin-like form - perfect for slathering on flaky, crispy Malawach bread...

Need I go on?

Also in the Borough Market vicinity was an incredible Thai spot called Kolae, where open-flame grilling was the thing...

Everything was bonkers delicious, with the standout being the Kolae Mussel Skewers - doused in a coconut curry sauce - served with Calamasi Lime ready for a squeeze...

And lets not forget a quick Chinese-esque lunch of a Fried Chicken Bao at, well, Bao. Incredibly tasty and an incredible value at 6 and 3/4 pounds.

Haute Indian was in the mix as well. The Butter Chicken Wings at Brigadiers were worthy of the hype...

Did the blue skies make the trip better? I have to say, yes. Not that a gray, damp London doesn't offer many charms as well.

And, no matter the weather, there is no question whether or not London can deliver on a killer food scene. It can and it does.

Eating Extremely Well in CDMX

Did I go to Mexico City's Contramar for their famous Tuna Tostadas? Of course I did. Were they delicious? Of course they were.

Did I partake in the city's famous street food scene?

Absolutely! Above, behold a glorious Lamb Barbacoa Taco on a blue corn tortilla enjoyed on the streets of CDMX's Azcapotzalco district. Below, take a look at freshly made potato chips that were served up in bags, still warm from their frying and doused with an addictive chili sauce.

There were other delicious tastes that were had as well. But, the best? It started with this view...

This is the entrance to Ticuchi, part of the Enrique Olivera culinary family. Olivera's famous high-end restaurant Pujol usually gets all the attention.

Fame, schmame.

Fine by me, if that makes it easier for me to snag a res at Ticuchi.

The room is dark, pierced with dramatic lighting, plants a plenty -- and a cocktail den buzz alongside a killer kitchen that delivers vegetarian, corn-centric fare, alongside a few pescatarian delights.

Just take a look at this Tamale de Esquites...

And, then there was a Tostado con Ensalada de Frijoles con Pulpo that had me at "hello"...

Oh, and here is a Tlayuda with molé and plantains...

Will I be back? You can bet on it. Already looking at a possible CDMX stay in August.

CDMX Bars: The Quest Will Continue

I went to Mexico City with some gal pals a couple of weekends ago. A marvelous time was had by all. The design scene? Yes! The food scene? Yes! The bar scene? Not so much...

Now, I had heard tale of amazing cocktail haunts throughout the city. We went to two that have serious cocktail list rankings - Hanky Panky and Handshake. The former cracked into the top 100 list of best bars on planet earth. The latter - drumroll please - was actually named the #1 best bar in the world.

Not too shabby, eh?

Well, I didn't like either spot.

Hanky Panky had the whole "speakeasy" conceit down with the bar being hidden through the kitchen of a taqueria.

The room felt like some Disney World imagineer's idea of a "cool bar scene." And, the cocktails? Thumbs down. Not one of our drinks was balanced. Each tipped the scale too far in one direction or the other. We even left without finishing our drinks - hoping that this was an aberration.

Surely a visit to Handshake for a nightcap would redeem Mexico City's cocktail cred, right?

Wrong.

The bar is located at the entranceway to a nondescript hotel, supposedly "hidden" because of its unmarked black door. Hmmm. The crowd lined up at the door gave that big secret away. Still, I was hopeful.

I shouldn't have been.

We were summoned inside and into a fairly non-descript room with a few flourishes - and then was thrown by a huge shout out from the staff and a few patrons: "Bienvenidos!"

Seriously?

And, they did that every single freakin' time anybody came into the bar.

That wasn't all. They tried to rally everyone to shout "Hasta luego" when parties left too.

Now the question is: how were the drinks? The answer: they were good.

They were mostly clarified punches. Tasty clarified cocktails. Were they mind-blowing? No. They were good. But definitely not good enough to off-set the cheesy, forced vibe in the room.

I can promise you that I will find a bar that I love in CDMX; maybe several. I'm just not going to follow the top bars lists anymore to find my Mexico City watering holes.

So, I didn't find my cocktail spot this time around. I will return. Great cocktails will be found. That said, I did find many a fine taco - and many other delights. In fact, there is a restaurant I need to tell you about. It was the flipside of my bar experience in CDMX. It was everything I wanted and more...Stay tuned...

There Aren't Enough Baked Goods In The World To Thank The Nurses

I have never written a truer sentence.

Today, I was finally able to return Mama Vamp to some semblance of her regular life - after several weeks in the hospital and then a physical rehab facility.

I am grateful.

I have also spent a great deal of moolah on pastries and bagels over the last few weeks. It was worth each and every penny. I wouldn't visit without bringing baked goods in tow. That was the very least I could do for the nursing staff - who was vigilant and efficient and deeply caring. Amazing people.

I brought sfogliatella and biscotti from Termini Bros, decadent chocolate chip cookies from Levain, bagels and spreads from Kismet, donuts from Federal Donuts, and babka (pictured above) and rugelach from K'Far.

If I had been in Brooklyn, I would have baked my brains out for these folks.

I guess now it is time to bring baked goods to Mama Vamp - and her primary care physician, so we can keep her from returning to the hospital any time soon.

I am on the case. The bakery case, that is...

Sicily in FiDi

I recently discovered a gem in the Financial District. Or should I say un gioiello?

A small storefront with the name Best Sicily Bottega is hidden away on Beaver Street, with the scent of real espresso wafting through its door.

The first time I visited the place was all about espresso - espresso for 25 Italian travelers that were crammed in and happily sipping afternoon coffees. They were brought there by an Italian tour guide that knew that he would need to appease his tour group with an honest espresso once a day.

That day's espresso was at Best Sicily Bottega. And, it wasn't until the gaggle of Italians departed that I could spy the housemade sandwiches, ready for a hot press; the delicate olive oil biscotti cookies awaiting a cappuccino for dunking; the giant ariancini stuffed with ground beef and peas; and the myriad of fresh-from-the-fryer bombolini...

I now find myself taking the 2 or 3 subway regularly to the Wall Street stop to partake in a bit of Sicily. It's a heck of a lot cheaper than a plane. And, the espresso? Bellisima!

I Depend On The Kindness of Bartenders

That subject line isn't completely accurate, but a kind bartender was much needed over the last week and a half. Why? Unfortunately, Mama Vamp has been in a Philadelphia hospital, with the road to the recovery seeming way too far off in the distance.

Thankfully, Philly bartenders are a kind and jovial lot -- not to mention talented.

Hat tip to Paul at the James Beard-nominated Love Bar at Friday Saturday Sunday, Cosette at a.Kitchen, Mikey and Sara at Dizengoff, and Wei-Wei at the stylish speakeasy Franklin Mortgage & Investment.

Have to give a special shout out to Mustafa, who I first encountered behind the bar Bolo. As soon as I spied his handcrafted pineapple cocktail strainer, I knew I had to have one. Bought one from him last night.

I hope to shake, stir and strain again soon, pineapple in hand. I will be raising a glass in honor of Mama Vamp's recuperation.

Don't Sleep On Celery

Celery isn't on any hot lists.

Cauliflower? Yes! Butternut squash? Yes! Ramps? Hells to the freakin' yes!

Let me say - celery deserves to be on the hot list as well.

A dinner at the uber hot Williamsburg restaurant The Four Horsemen featured a Celery-Date Salad that had the whole table swooning.

Was this some sort of magic that was cast by the glorious wines we had been enjoying? Or was it possible that celery has magic on its own (or at least when it is married with dates, toasted walnuts, and shaved Piave Vecchio cheese)?

To put it to the test, I located the recipe from Chef Nick Curtola on the Wall Street Journal's site and made it as a starter at a recent dinner party.

The whole table swooned.

Celery. It's hot. Ramps better watch their back.