VittlesVamp

I Adore You, But You're Not Coming Home With Me

Dark and handsome. Not so tall, but really, who cares when you look this good? Besides, this after dinner sipper goes down smooth.

It's name? St. George NOLA Coffee Liqueur. I call it "Yes, please" for short.

Am I inspired to purchase a bottle to enjoy at home from time to time? Of course I am. But, I want to keep the spark alive. I want to keep my relationship with this java and chicory creation going -- keeping it just out of reach, except for the rare magical occasion when it is spotted on a menu at a restaurant or watering hole.

I won't be walking down the aisle (the liquor store aisle, that is) with St. George NOLA Coffee Liqueur, but I expect the romance to last for years to come.

Yes, please.

My Thanksgiving

I know. I get it. What the heck is this photo? Where is the picture of a perfectly cooked Buttermilk-Brined Spatchcocked Turkey?

Well, I made it. It was tasty. That's not what this post is about. Deal with it.

That photo above? It's of my friends David and Cat shucking oysters. They generously brought two dozen to Thanksgiving dinner and had my guests and me transfixed as they wriggled each of these precious crustaceans open for a special treat during cocktail hour. Between the whole "dinner and a show" effect and the briny delights slipping past my lips, it made for a marvelous holiday memory.

And, then there were the cheers. The many cheers. We all bordered on tipsy at certain points in the evening, but always slid back gently with a glass or two of sparkling water. That said, some of the wines were fantastic.

Conversation? There was plenty. Furious intellectual debates about Freud and the true nature of art had me thinking that "Thanksgiving-as-a-salon" wasn't a bad idea. (Besides, Mama Vamp threw out a few zingers that were glorious!)

Of course there was that aforementioned Turkey alongside Ciabatta Stuffing with Sausage, Wild Mushroom Gravy, Fall Fruit Chutney, a Wilted Escarole Salad with Crispy Shallots and Prunes, as well as Spicy Sweet Potato Puree with Pineapple and Lime Zest.

But was there pie? Yes. Yes. There was a Chocolate Pecan number which I served with homemade Vanilla Ice Cream. But, there were also drop-dead gorgeous cupcakes that looked more like a bouquet than any Edible Arrangement ever could...

They were also quite delicious.

But then was the evening's grand finale.

Sherry? Port? Amaro?

Guess again.

The correct answer is: song.

From karaoke warbling of Janis Ian's classic At Seventeen to belting out Kiss Me Kate's I Hate Men, the evening had taken a turn in a way that was sad, wistful, joyful and truly celebratory.

I have no idea if I'll ever be able to top this Thanksgiving. But I am awfully thankful for it.

Buttering Me Up

Is this an excessive amount of butter?

Um, probably. No. Definitely.

Was it worthy butter? Butter worth gorging on?

Yes. No question.

Was I inspired to buy a log of incredible Brittany butter with sea salt at the newly opened Le French Tart Deli near my apartment?

Of course.

Did I slather it on slices of baguette in a much more judicious fashion than the person who made the Anchovy and Butter Crostini above?

Once again, of course.

But was I tempted to slather more on?

Yet again, of course.

Butter: It's important.

Chicago's Galit

I just returned from the Windy City, where I ate very, very well. Evidence is provided here in the form of snapshots taken at a fantabulous dinner at Galit, an award-winning Israeli spot that seriously delivered. (Had no doubt, since my gourmet rambling pal Tatiana had secured the reservation!)

Above, spy the cloud-like Hummus with bits of brisket braised with carrots and cinnamon. Because that couldn't be nearly enough to start us off, a series of small plates followed, including a bowl of mouth puckering Pickled Vegetables...

Heirloom Tomatoes with wood-roasted okra, amba, and Persian lime...

A bowl of creamy Labneh topped with hyssop, sumac, and sesame, alongside bowl of ethereal Baba Ganoush, sprinkled with a torrent of chives...

Gloriously hot, puffy Pita arrived to help us sop it all up...

Next up, a plate of Roasted Beets with Black Garlic Tehina, showered with crispy bits of pumpernickel and dill fronds...

And, we also swooned over Iraqui Kubbeh Halab, which were similar to Italian Arancini rice balls -- in this case, bright saffron rice encasing stewed lamb with a sauce made of blitzed golden raisins and almonds...

Then, this gobsmacking dish arrived...

That flower-strewn beauty was half a Wood-Roasted Cabbage, stuffed with oyster mushrooms and saffron mujadara, surrounded by a deep green chermoula sauce. And, lest we forgot we were meat eaters, there was Smoked Turkey Shwarma with peach amba and carrots...

To finish it all off, White Chocolate and Pistachio Baklava with raspberries and orange water.

Yeah. I ate very, very well in Chicago.

Went To Venice Beach To Figure Out What I Was Missing

Several years ago I was gifted the cookbook from Venice Beach's Gjelina. I remember thumbing through the book and eyeing the gorgeous photos of veggies galore and pizzas a plenty.

Today, I had the opportunity to visit the spot for lunch. It was glorious -- from the Grilled Trumpet Mushrooms with Tarragon Butter, seen above, to the Grilled Pork Neck with Salsa Verde, seen below...

And, brilliantly bringing up the rear was a gorgeous dish of Grilled Peaches with Burrata, Prosciutto, Arugula, and Aged Balsamic...

Now, this was my kind of dessert!

The food was truly delicious.

So, why hadn't I ever cracked open the cookbook to actually test out some of the recipes at home?

Good question and I have a good answer.

Every single one of these dishes was made on a wood-burning grill.

I know you're shocked, but my Brooklyn apartment doesn't come equipped with one. It clearly was a major 'miss' in my kitchen renovation.

One consolation? Open flame isn't completely off the table. I was recently gifted a mini Butane torch. It won't do the job on the pork, but maybe Brûléed Peaches will be on the menu at the next dinner party.

Who Wants To Tartare?

It scares away a lot of people. Red meat alone is enough to put a good number off. Add "raw" to the equation and I most certainly lose a significant amount of the dining audience.

But, dang, if I don't enjoy a good Steak Tartare.

Had one not long ago in Raleigh at Crawford and Son - showered with fresh horseradish and served alongside a mound of potato chips. All in all, a winner. I definitely need to get back to Buvette in the West Village for their rendition.

It's been many years, since I made this gloriously rich dish in my own kitchen. Maybe it's time to tackle it again...But, considering anti-red meat and anti-raw sentiment, not sure who would be game to enjoy it with me.

Could it be you?

Unmitigated Decadence

I have zero control. I know Delta is out there, but I am drawn to restaurants nonetheless. I am fully vaxxed. Know that there are some slight risks -- but at this point I am all in.

I went to Philadelphia and took Mama Vamp (also vaxxed!) for a multicourse extravaganza at Friday, Saturday, Sunday, which included the stellar Beet Cappelletti with Chive and Nasturtium Honey. Eyes roll back in your head time!

Then I went to the deepest darkest corners of the West Village for dinner with a friend at the Austrian powerhouse restaurant Wallse, where we tucked into these Smoked Trout Planshinken with glee...

There have been meals out with foie gras, truffles, and seared scallops -- and then there was this genius Tuna Tartare with Fava Beans and Agretti at Prospect Park's LaLou...

And a trip to Raleigh-Durham afforded me the opportunity to visit Saltbox Seafood Joint for a gargantuan Grouper Roll with all the fixins...

...including some otherworldy Honeyed Hushpuppies. Those puppies were a problem.

Have I cooked? Rarely. I have been throwing together food rather than properly cooking. I feel a longing to be served. It's where I am at. I am owning it. And, trust me, I will be cooking full force again. Just need to strike a balance.

We'll see how I do on the balance beam...

Vietnamese Vittles Victory in Brooklyn - Pt. 2

I had you hanging there for a while, didn't I? Well, I'm back for part 2 in this tale of two restaurants.

The next spot is within easy walking distance from my apartment, so it definitely has an edge on Bolero -- but the food is so good that I would be happy to grab a subway or Uber to get there. The spot? Em Vietnamese, newly ensconced on Front Street in Dumbo, Brooklyn.

Let's start at the beginning. Let's start with the Iced Vietnamese Coffee.

Let's start by saying YAAAASSSSS!

This was a perfectly balanced glass of intense coffee over ice, softened with just enough creamy sweetness from the condensed milk. I slurped it down and order a second at record speed.

Then, there was the food. The best of it isn't pictured. It was devoured too quickly. In particular, let me say that Bo Kho -- Vietnam's answer to Beef Bourguignon, scented with lemongrass, ginger, and coconut milk -- was a revelation. Once the meat and veggies were dispensed with, I brought the bowl to my lips to down every last drop of the rich broth.

Also, have to give a strong thumbs up to the restaurant's version of Banh Xeo, an eggy turmeric rice crepe that blankets a filling of shrimp, pork and bean sprouts. The crepe was crisp on the outside, soft and buttery within. Sliced off a wedge, wrapped in a lettuce leaf, dipped in a fish sauce vinaigrette and released a joyful moan shortly thereafter.

Oh, and then there are addictive chicken wings, doused with garlic butter nuoc mam sauce and topped with scallion and cilantro...

And, there is also the all-important Bun Thit Nuong, the cold noodle dish that I have deemed the baseline testament to solid Saigon-style eating at any worthy Vietnamese restaurant...

Needless to say, Em Vietnamese is worthy. Very worthy. I have gone back three times in the past couple weeks and I am tempted to go there tomorrow to continue my march through the menu. A very worthy endeavor, I can assure you.

Vietnamese Vittles Victory in Brooklyn - Pt. 1

I love Vietnamese food. It's bright flavors, palm sugar hits of sweetness, married with the briny bite of fish sauce, is a genius combination in my book.

I have often bemoaned the lack of great Vietnamese fare in New York City, accepting the fact that without a big Vietnamese population, we couldn't expect big Vietnamese restaurant wins. So, I'd typically steer myself towards one of the Vietnamese neighborhoods in Philadelphia when I went to see Mama Vamp, to get my fill of glorious bowls of Pho or chilled noodle-icious Buns.

Then a few years ago a couple of hipster Vietnamese spots arrived in Brooklyn. I was very excited. But, one of the restaurants quickly shuttered and the other one fell off considerably in terms of service. Once in a while I would order from the fast-casual Vietnamese mini-chain Hanco's nearby, but it always tasted like a muted, more Americanized version of the Hanoi- and Saigon-style food that I'd fallen in love with elsewhere.

Then, a few months ago I ventured into the tea garden of a new Vietnamese spot in Williamsburg called Bolero -- a place that was decidedly elegant, while aiming for big flavors. I have returned two times more, each time finding something new on the menu to get me grinning from ear-to-ear.

Pictured above, Littleneck Clams and fragrant lemongrass leaves, steamed in a Saigon beer broth with charred ramp oil, garlic, shaved salted chicken egg and coriander.

Pictured below, turmeric-marinated Skate with bronze fennel, radicchio, pickled cantaloupe, tricolor carrots, onion flowers, sesame cracker and fermented fish sauce vinaigrette...

Can you see why I was grinning ear-to-ear?

But, lucky enough for me this is a tale of two restaurants -- two new Vietnamese places to keep me in fish sauce and grins. Stay tuned for part 2...

Drumroll Please...

And, the kitchen renovation is done! Let the summer series of dinner parties commence!

The Unsung Hero of the Pandemic: Pizza

Yes, sourdough took a lot of the limelight during the pandemic. But, there was a staple that helped us all make it through -- the humble pizza pie.

You know it's true.

For comfort at the height of the crisis, I'd buy a store-bought frozen pie and add toppings to make it a little special. Then there was the glory of a Stouffer's French Bread Pizza dinner with a bit of salad to pretend that I was being "healthy" in some respect. Eventually, I was able to order again from a real-deal pizza parlor. The delivery of a Hot Sausage and Brown Butter with Sage Pizza from F&F's in Carroll Gardens was particularly memorable. Soooo good!

And, now that we are starting to emerge from the pandemic, pizza hasn't lost its luster. Heck, when I was finally able to take a plane - you read right, A PLANE - and head out to Portland to see a friend, we ended up tucking into pizza. A trip to the St. John neighborhood meant grabbing a picnic table in a courtyard for cocktails from The Garrison and couple pies from Gracie Apizza (one of which is pictured above).

Pizza has a permanent place in my heart -- and it has staked claim on my waistline.

Maybe I'll try the whole sourdough thing some day. But, for now, I'll stick with pizza as my pandemic starch superhero.

Carbonara

Spaghetti Carbonara. It's like a siren's call to my tastebuds.

It's the BEC of pasta. Yes, bacon, egg, and cheese. Do you see "cream" listed there? I think not. My recipe is fairly classic, except for one addition -- minced shallots. Quibble, if you must. One bite and you'll be a convert.

Spaghetti Carbonara
Serves 2

8oz. dried spaghetti (aka half of a box)
1 cup diced guanciale or thick-cut bacon
1 1/2 TBSP minced shallot
1/4 cup dry white wine or dry vermouth
1 1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
2 eggs (room temperature)
1 tsp freshly cracked black pepper
Italian parsley for garnish

Whisk one whole egg, one yolk, 1 cup of the cheese, and the pepper in a bowl. Put to the side. In a large pan or pot sauté guanciale or bacon until it starts to crisp and release fat. At the same time, boil water and cook pasta until al dente. Add the shallots to the pan with the guanciale/bacon and cook until translucent. Bottom of the pan will likely be getting rather browned. Add the wine or vermouth and swirl around to get the brown bits. Spaghetti should be done by now, so strain, saving some of the starchy water. Toss a 1/4 cup of the starchy water in with the guanciale/bacon and swirl everything together. Now, add in the cooked spaghetti and egg/cheese/pepper mixture and quickly toss it all together, so every strand of spaghetti is well coated. Serve with a little grated Parmesan on top and garnish with some chopped Italian parsley.