VittlesVamp

Happy 5765!

Nothing like a fresh slate. And, there's nothing like a new year to give me one. Luckily, I get two new years to sweep the past clean - the one on January 1st and Rosh Hashanah, the one dictated by the Jewish calendar, telling me that today is the first day of the year 5765.

Forgoing resolutions, last night I decided to go straight into celebration mode, planning a small festive dinner for chick pals Maureen and Stacy. Southern Christian gals both, they couldn't help but bastardize Yiddish, quickly dubbing themselves as my "sh*t-ska" friends.

One bottle of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc and a multitude of Melba Toast crackers with D'Artagnan Mousse Truffee Pate (sort of a gourmet substitute for the standard Jewish holiday classic of Chopped Liver), and it was time to get the party started.

Gourmand that I am (really?), I decided to throw a little extra abundance into the traditional offering of apples and honey, in hope for a "sweet" year - a selection of apples. Which one would my guests pick? The pro forma Macintosh? The crisp, dense Pink Lady? Or, perhaps the Beatle's fave, the Granny Smith? We had some Paul McCartney fans in the audience, so Granny Smith was the winner. We double-dipped in the hope for a super sweet year. And, what could be sweeter than the dinner menu I had planned?:

*Bufalo Mozzarello with Cherry Tomatoes in Champagne Vinaigrette and Fresh Basil

*Roasted Chicken, Sweet Pepper and Sharp Provolone Sausage served atop Baby Arugula

*Truffled Risotto with Chanterelle and Cremini Mushrooms

Accompanied by a lovely, peppery bottle of Pinot Noir from Central California.

*Slices of warm Sour Cream Apple Walnut Pie

Polished off along with a bottle of divine, bubbly Prosecco.

Kicking back with a full tummy and a divine, bubbly buzz, I hoped that the rest of 5765 be as good as the way it started. If so, it'll very sweet year indeed - completely worthy of double-dipping. The sh*t-skas agreed whole-heartedly. I might just make Jewesses of them yet...

AC/DB - Pt. 3

Arriving at the ritzy Borgata hotel and casino, after two full hours on the road for what should have been a simple 15 minute drive, Maureen and I were parched, hungry and in need of some serious coddling. Somehow the restaurant that was serving its food in plastic clams just didn't fit the bill.

And, then I saw it: Suilan, Philadelphia celebrity chef Susannah Foo's new ritzy French-Chinese outpost. It was swank to the hilt - Perfect!

But, would Destiny once again throw us a curve ball? Oh, yes, indeed.

The maitre d' didn't have an open table until 10:30pm. It was tragic. I had to muster all of my Vittles Vamp skills to connive our party into the restaurant. "Is there a lounge or bar area where we could sit and nibble while we wait, or perhaps just eat dinner there?" No.

This was gonna be tough. Damn that Destiny! "So, there is no way we could possibly eat here before 10:30?"

And, then Destiny took a turn. The maitre d's face lit up. "Well, we do have a 'community' table with seats available right now." Ho's face lit up as well. Apparently, his sister shorthands references to the gay and lesbian community as 'the community.' Considering that Ho and his husband Hi were most definitely members of that exclusive club, they felt that they could be ambassadors for Mo and I at our table.

We followed the hostess into the luxurious dining room. Accidentally leading us to a table for four, which was meant for the party walking in directly behind us, Hi got into a scuffle with an irrate middle-aged broad and her Scotch-swilling husband, as he asked her to "Just calm down, cowgirl - a mistake was made." Concerned that a fist-fight would ensue any minute, Mo and I tried to sashay our party in the opposite direction.

Finally, led to seats at the end of the banquet "community table," Hi's ire was raised once more, screaming out to a fellow diner "I hate that Suzanne Smith!" (Name has been changed to protect the not-so-innocent.)

Destiny wasn't kind. We were definitely in for a fist-fight now. The woman stood at the end of the table and stared down Hi. We were in deep trouble.

And, then she smiled. "Hi! Oh my gosh!" Hi smiled back. It was quickly sussed out that the two were old friends that had lost touch when Suzanne had moved from San Francisco to New Jersey. The reunion had been Destiny's work and we went with it, moving down the table to join her and her guest for dinner. Ho beamed: "Just think, if you two hadn't gotten lost for two hours, we might not be here, now - running into Suzanne. Aren't you glad that we've been Destiny's Bitches tonight?"

We were.

Oh, the food was good too. Appetizers of Lobster Raviolis with Emulsified Soy Bean Puree and Lobster Asparagus Salad, and Big Eye Tuna Spring Rolls with Spicy Tuna Tartar, Curly Cress, Pickled Ginger and Wasabe Cr

AC/DB Pt. 2

Last we left the soccer moms from Dunwoody, Georgia, they were leaving a rest stop in New Jersey, riding their mini-van down the Garden State Parkway towards the mythic burg of Atlantic City. Convinced, just as the pimple-faced Burger King cashier had promised Mo, that we'd have a "glorious" day, we hoped for the best.

But, things didn't bode well when we started running out of change after hitting the 17th 35 cent, exact change-only toll booth on the highway. Was it possible that we'd run out of change before we made it to the West Atlantic City Ramada Limited?

Thankfully, the answer was no.

But, then again, once we pulled into the grimy parking lot to look upon the nasty 1970's motel structure overlooking a sink hole, we wondered if it had been worth the $5.95 in tolls - let alone the $125 pricetag for our overnight stay. The room wasn't much better than the exterior - and then there was the dank odor, coming from goodness knows where...

We had to get out. Quickly.

We dialed "Hi" and "Ho." (Read yesterday's posting for an explanation on the names) Once we finally connected, we hastened a retreat from the Ramada and decided to converge at 7pm sharp on what was heralded to be the swankiest casino/resort in AC - the Borgata.

Destiny had other plans.

No sooner had Mo and I hit the AC Expressway and ventured towards the strip, then we realized that the Borgata was nowhere in sight. I dialed the hotel in hope for directions.

Destiny wasn't kind. She chose a fool attendant to take our call and after several mis-directed urban street turns, we found ourselves almost irrevocably back on the AC Expressway - heading back to our hotel. In fact, we couldn't get off the AC Expressway until we had almost gotten all the way back to the Ramada. And then we had to pay a toll to get off the highway and another toll to get back on in the correct direction.

Destiny wasn't through with us. We chose a fool gas attendant for the next set of misguided directions and sure enough, we ended right back on the AC Expressway heading back to the Ramada. Another set of tolls later, we finally arrived at the Borgata - at 8:15pm and sorely in need of a strong cocktail.

Was destiny through screwing with us for the evening? Tune in tomorrow to find out...

AC/DB

This weekend was one about travel, the Garden State, friendship, suburban vehicles, nasty accomodations, pricey vittles, gambling, dancing, sweating, a comedy of errors, bad directions and good timing - in short: it was about Atlantic City.

My friends Greg and Owen (who will here on out be referred to as "Hi" and "Ho," respectively) were visiting in the area (Brigatine to be exact) and requested my presence, along with our mutual friend Maureen. They promised a fun-filled time on the low-down, at cheap prices. Cheap and fun? They couldn't have tagged Mo and I better, if they'd written it on a bathroom wall. We promised to join.

Little did we know back then that destiny would throw a monkey wrench into the proceedings...But, let me elaborate.

It all started in Newark. Newark? Don't ask - just go with it.

Saturday, I waited anxiously for my intrepid friend Mo to pick me up in front of the city's ever-glam Penn Station. Surrounded by the dregs of society I could hardly wait another second for Mo to turn the corner in a cute lil' economy car to whisk us both away. Where was she? And, then I heard someone shouting out my name. Wait: There were no cute little cars in sight. Where was that coming from? And, then I saw it...

A Dodge Caravan Mini-Van. Mo was actually waving to me from the driver's seat. What was going on?

I slid in the front seat, feeling every inch the Soccer Mom, wondering how we came across this "sweet ride," considering that we'd signed up for a little economy car at Dollar-Rent-A-Car. According to Mo, the manager at the agency's East 22nd Street branch must've ticked off someone but good - He'd recently gotten a delivery of 150 of these lovely monstrosities, with no normal-sized vehicles in sight. To top it off, she added, the plates were from Georgia.

Looks like we were travelin' like PTA gals from Dunwoody for the weekend. And, what Southern Soccer Mom roadtrip would be complete without a boy toy encounter on the road?

No. It wasn't me. It was Maureen who had all the luck - sort of. Instead of running into Brad Pitt though, she met up with a 16 year-old highway road stop/service station Burger King cashier with a sparkling smile (sparkling due to a mouth full of glittering metal braces) and a strong committment to hospitality. As she sidled up to the register and proffered her money for the Whopper Junior she was about to consume, the pimpled gent slipped her this smooth line:

"Have a glorious day. Wait. Did I just say 'glorious?' Yes, I did. You know what? I'm owning it! Have a GLORIOUS day!"

Some girls have all the luck...Sneak Preview of tomorrow's posting: We arrive at the West Atlantic City Ramada Limited. And, let's just say, it was VERY limited.

Totally Bummed

Is anything worse than knowing Nirvana, and then having it taken away?

Such is the dilemma that we - lovers of Greece's thick, creamy "Total" brand yogurt - find ourselves in with the latest move by the US Food and Drug Administration:

Fage Total Greek Yogurt had to stop sales after the US Food and Drug Administration discovered that the company did not have proper certification for interstate sales, according to Antonios Maridakis, general manager of Fage USA. "It has nothing to do with the product," Maridakis said in a phone interview from Athens. "This is not a quality issue."

During a promotion at Whole Foods Market, Maridakis said, a competitor notified the FDA that Fage was not on the agency's list of authorized interstate milk shippers, a designation that requires certification of a dairy producer's sanitation processes. As a result, Fage, which started selling in the United States in 2000, is losing $500,000 a week in business here while it attempts to convince any state where it does business to send inspectors to Greece.

What is it with the FDA and dairy products? I'm particularly disappointed that I can't get a hold of some of the gorgeous unpasteurized cheeses that hale from Italy, France and Spain.

Then again, according to the Los Angeles Times' David Shaw, dairy isn't in the spotlight alone. Apparently, the U.S. Customs and Border Protection has it in for saucisson and duck:

Unlike a chef friend of mine who used to smuggle in ortolans (tiny, delectable French birds) packed amid his wife's underwear, we were completely open and aboveboard...We figured that if anything were confiscated, we wouldn't protest. But nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Much to my surprise and delight, the inspector said the only items we couldn't bring in were those she broadly characterized as "meat"

BeerFest 2004

There's nothing like brewsky to bring people together (in more ways than one). Put 150 varieties of them together with a river view and vittles from dozens of Manhattan restaurants and you're bound to attact quite a crowd. At least that's what the folks behind BeerFest 2004 are hoping for:

BeerFest 2004 "Beer on the Pier" is one of the largest summer festivals to take place at Pier 54 - part of the beautiful Hudson River Park on Manhattan's Lower West Side.

Showcasing over 150 of the world's finest brews BeerFest 2004 is a celebration of the art of brewing and the public's love of beer.

For one fun filled day, October 16th, Pier 54 will be transformed into the world's largest waterfront front Beer Garden. Attendees will be given their official BeerFest 2004 taster's cups and will then set out on a world tour of beer tasting. A variety of beers from every corner of the globe will be available for free tasting. Attendees will have the opportunity to speak directly with the brewery representatives to learn all about the exciting process of beer making.

In addition to the wonderful world of beer, BeerFest attendees will have the opportunity to sample some of the best food Manhattan has to offer.

Dozens of Manhattan restaurants will be onsite showcasing their best and most popular dishes. Items will be served tapas style at modest prices to give consumers the chance to sample dishes from all over Manhattan and the world.

Proceeds will benefit The Friends of Gateway National Parks, Inc. And, goodness knows who you might meet with your "beer goggles" on.

The End of Summer

The Labor Day weekend always makes makes me a bit sad - not just because it signals the end of summer, but because I have yet to actually accomplish all the "fun things" that I planned to do over the course of the season: hike Bear Mountain, visit the wineries on Long Island, take in an outdoor flick at the Brooklyn Bridge Park...These activities, among several others, didn't actually make the final cut this year.

So, when my friend Kristin (not the archaeologically inclined one, the urban planning one that gets excited by visiting Levittown) invited me to join her for a trip to Long Beach over the weekend, I quickly perused my list and realized that I hadn't made it to a single beach all summer. I was "in."

Armed with Level 45 sunblock, the "food issue" of The New Yorker, my beach towel, a Metrocard and LIRR ticket, I spent the day attempting what passes as a "tan" on my lilly-white (alright, bleach-white) skin and took a couple of forays into the ocean to cool off. All-in-all it was a lovely day.

And, how to repay Kristin for her fabulous idea and kind invitation? End of Summer Risotto, of course! Before venturing to the wilds of Long Island, I paid call on my local Greenmarket and took full advantage of its offerings. In addition, I swung by Garden of Eden and picked up a couple of thick slices of smoky pancetta, as Kristin had informed me that she'd never tasted this Italian treat. The results were downright delicious, and here's the recipe, if you want to attempt it before the offical end of summer - September 21st:

End of Summer Risotto

1 cup risotto
1 ear sweet corn - kernels removed from the cob
1 red bell pepper
1 small zucchini - sliced
4-6 cremini mushrooms - sliced
1/2 cup fresh basil - julienned
2 small shallots - minced
2 thick slices of pancetta - diced
1/2 cup fresh parmesan - grated
1 cup good white wine
6 cups water - or add 2 cups of veg. stock to 4 cups water

Stick pepper on a long fork and roast over stove top flame (like a marshmallow over a camp fire), until outside is black. Place in a paper bag for 10 minutes and then remove blackened skin, which should easily slip off now that its been steamed in the bag. Chop half the pepper into a dice - saving the rest for another use (in an omelette perhaps?).

Cook up diced pancetta in a pan in a 350 degree oven for 10 minutes or until crisp. Remove it from its grease and place in a bowl to the side.

Boil water or stock/water mixture with the corn cob. In another pot, over medium heat, saute shallots and corn kernels in a little olive oil, for about 3-4 minutes, until the shallots are translucent. Add the risotto and saute for an additional minute. Add the wine and continue mixing, allowing it to cook down until its absorbed. Add one cup of the boiling water/stock and continue adding one cup at a time and mixing, until absorbed.

When you only have two cups left, add the zucchini and cremini mushrooms. Continue the stir, add, stir, add process. When the risotto is lovely, creamy (do taste it to make sure), mix in the pepper, parmesan and pancetta. Serve in 2 bowls, scattering the julienned basil atop. Taste. Swoon. Regret you didn't make this dish all summer long...

Getting It On In The Candy Aisle

The portrayal of various forms of produce - limes, lemons, cherries, etc. - in various positions more commonly seen in the Kama Sutra than on candy wrappers has sparked complaints:

St Blasien Jesuit College, a Catholic institution located near Bonn, Germany has complained about the new Haribo sweet wrappers, which portray fruits in various sexual positions.

"We are shocked at the shameless presentation of sexual practices on the wrapping, which includes not only sexual intercourse but also fellatio and cunnilingus," wrote the college in a letter complaining about the new packaging of Haribo's Moaom fruit chews.

"It's irresponsible, to expose children to such pornographic representations," added the letter.

The 'controversial' sweets wrapped in bright yellow, red and green colours show lemons, limes, strawberries, cherries and oranges playfully engaging in sex.

St Blasen, however, is not enamoured with the new packaging and is especially opposed to lemon-flavoured sweets, which show a green figure having sex with a lemon.

The lemon-lime packaging is pictured above. I dunno. I don't have an issue with fruit having a good time. I just think it's the tutti-frutti thing that's bothering me. I'm concerned about children seeing yellow citrus engaged in coitus with green citrus. Lemon on lemon or lime on lime would be fine, but this is just too much. Are we teaching our young that inter-racial fruit relationships are wholesome and acceptable in the society within which we live? If we don't watch out, kids are going to learn about fruit punch - and goodness know what'll happen then...

NOTE: The last few comments were actually brought to you by the Archie Bunker Institute of Race Relations.

The Vamp - A Gothamist Gal

For those of you unaware, in addition to my usual Vittles Vamp duties, I've also begun penning weekly items for Gothamist's Food section. Thus far I've been writing about Kings County offerings - or lack thereof in some cases. This week, I kvell about the glories of Waterfront Ale House.

The important take-away from the item:

Ale Alert: This Thursday and Friday (9/2 & 3), Waterfront Ale House will hold its annual "Draining of the Kegs" celebration, before the pub goes on a brief end-of-summer hiatus. That means $3 pints all day and all night till the kegs are dry.

Guess where I'll be tonight...

Bad Jamie

According to The Telegraph, it looks like celebrity Chef Jamie Oliver is getting his "laddie" hands slapped for ripping-off customers at Fifteen, his uber-hip East London restaurant:

Fifteen was described as "amateurish" and accused of "seriously taking the piss" with its high prices in the 2005 Harden's London restaurant guide.

What makes the harsh criticism even worse, is that Fifteen was established with a charity twist, giving 15 disadvantaged young people the chance to cook professionally in a top-flight eatery under Oliver's guidance:

The guide goes further by claiming that the restaurant - where a meal costs