VittlesVamp

Southern Supper

Since my recent trip to Nashville, I've become more and more fascinated with the culinary history of the South. So it seemed high time I tried my hand at whipping up some Dixie fare in my very own Brooklyn kitchen. Dinner party invites went out.

In support of my efforts Keith, a Louisiana born-and-bred pal, lent me his Momma's well-worn and much beloved Cotton Country Collection and Celebrations on the Bayou cookbooks to start me off on the righteous path of Confederate cookery.

Let's just say that the Cotton Country's recipe for Horseradish Salad, including lemon and lime jellos, condensed milk, fresh horseradish, crushed pineapple and pimentos, didn't sound too righteous to me!

Still, the cookbooks offered me some guidance as I crafted my menu for last night's dinner:

*A pitcher of Pimm's Cup, scented with Cucumber, Lemon and Mint
*Crisp Potato Chips topped with Creme Fraiche, Tennessee Paddlefish Caviar and Snipped Chives
*Creamy Deviled Eggs
*Fried Green Tomatoes with Shrimp Remoulade (pictured above)
*Roasted Mixed Sausages served on top of a Summer Salad
*Corn Pudding
*Peach-Pecan Crisp with Ricotta Sorbet

Not everything went as planned.

I had an egg incident.

Yankee that I am, I had no idea that you need to use week old eggs to make Deviled Eggs. It was a disaster. Those shells did not want to go off easy. After fretting with them unsuccessfully, I acquiesed to the Dixie food gods and gave up the ghost on the Deviled suckers. Thankfully, I had some homemade Asparagus Blue Cheese Roll-Ups in my freezer to save the day.

However, there was no saving the Corn Pudding. I followed the Cotton Country Collection's instructions to the letter and it was still soup after an hour in the oven. Ultimately, it ended up taking a full two before it set.

We'd already finished up dessert by the time it made its golden brown appearance.

Harumph!

Wondering if I can somehow turn it into Corn Pudding Ice Cream. Besides, its creation would be the perfect excuse for another Southern supper. And, this time I vow to not to let the Deviled Eggs get the better of me!

I Love New York

Today's New York Times City section reminded me of why I adore the Big Apple:

*A look at the Flushing outpost of the Tokyo Sushi Academy, where students are coached in the fine art of delicately crafting butterflies out of carrot slices, among other knife wielding tricks.

*Kidnappings, illict affairs, teenage romance and murder abound on the set of "As The World Turns." Heady stuff for some, but apparently, their Midwood neighbors - Orthodox Jews - find their own brand of excitement at the local Chap-a-Nosh and kosher branch of Dunkin' Donuts.

*Vendor smackdown: Could halal carts be pushing out the long-beloved hot dog as street food supreme? According to the article, Manhattan halal vendors currently outnumber hot dog carts three to one.

What a town!

Scape'n At The Miracle Grill

Last night, happy hour at the West Village outpost of the Southwestern eatery Miracle Grill was taken up a serious notch.

Could it have been due to the company of my down-home homey Keith? Was he the cause of a bar raising experience at the bar?

He was nice and all - but not bar raising.

Could it have been the frosty, potent Frozen Guava Margaritas?

They were only $5.50 a pop for happy hour, but - nah.

Happy hour was made significantly happier by making the acquaintance of the Miracle's longtime owner Lynn Loflin.

A force to be reckoned with, there is no question that Lynn hasn't lost any of her Louisiana charm over the course of her 20 some odd years in NYC. On the contrary, her country appeal has only taken on a slighty urban patina - a bit of West Village sophistication by way of crunchy-granola Park Slope.

Her Dixie gifts are evident in the way she warmly greets regulars and in Miracle Grill's little touches. Touches like the homemade pickled garlic scapes in the restaurant's popular Sunday brunch Bloody Marys. The scapes (a bunch pictured above) are grown on Lynn's upstate farm and pickled by the good grace of her own two hands.

As a bizarre accompaniment to our Margs, Lynn offered us up a few stray pickled scapes from the very last jar from last summer's batch. Slightly sweet, vinegary and packing a wollop, Keith and I immediately saw how they could simply make a Bloody Mary.

For the record, this summer's batch is expected to hit the bar on Sunday. I strongly suggest you order up a Bloody Mary and suck on a scape or two to ensure a powerful beginning to your day.

San Francisco On My Mind

A gal pal instant messaged me today from a business trip in San Francisco, setting off a cascade of memories of a recent trip of my own to the Bay Area. That visit consisted of meetings, meetings and more meetings, but I was also able to squeeze in a couple culinary highlights.

Coco 500 was most definitely a highlight. Their bar's Summer Punch, pictured above, was a lovely way to begin an evening with an old foodie friend. I can still remember the way the drink's pinapple-Infused pisco danced on my tongue. Mmm...

The dinner that followed our cocktailing included addictive Fried String Beans, crisp Flatbread topped with Truffled Zucchini Flowers and Melted Parmesan Cheese...

...and a succulent Beef Cheek with Watercress and Horseradish Cream.

It was all so delicious. So delicious that I almost forgot about the next day's line-up of meetings. Almost.

Happily though, in between unrelenting business appointments, my foodie friend whisked me away for a civilized lunch at a Bay Area fave - Piperade.

One bite into Chef Gerald Hirigoyen's justifiably famous Warm Sheep's Milk Cheese and Ham Terrine and all memories of my business meetings floated away.

All I can say is thank goodness for San Francisco chefs who really know their business - even when I have half a mind to forget mine.

Besieged By Burgers

Looks like this is the wrong time to try to put an end to my obsession with burgers. New York Magazine's Cheap Eats issue recently hit newsstands, offering a mouthwatering rundown of the city's newest patties. Apparently, I just HAVE to taste test the juicy, perfectly proportioned rendition at Resto.

Maybe it's time I sought out a 12-step Hamburglar Anonymous program.

Smokin'

Last night I had the delight of joining Sir and Lady M at New York's newest BBQ destination - Hill Country. One step in the door and my Yankee nostrils were overtaken by the intoxicating aroma of oak, burning long and low. Talk about perfume...

We waited on the edge of our bar stools sipping Lone Stars until our name was bellowed out, and three meal tickets where thrust into our hot little hands. In the tradition of Central Texas meat markets - not to mention the Lower East Side meat emporium Katz's Deli - Hill Country asks patrons to line up at the counter and order their vittles hand carved and to order, the countermen stamping your ticket as you go.

Naturally, we couldn't wait to earn a few stamps.

Wrapped in crackling brown butcher paper, we devoured smoky dry-rubbed Pork Ribs, tender, flavorful and absolutely ambrosial when slathered with some of the restaurant's house sauce. We groaned with pleasure as we indulged in a slab of the smoker's buttery soft Boneless Prime Rib and then groaned some more as we attacked slices of the restaurant's two Brisket variations, Moist and Lean. A plump link of Kreuz Sausage practically plunged us over the edge and straight into ecstasy.

Then again, can ecstasy ever be attained without the benefit of traditional BBQ sides?

Luckily, we didn't have to find out. Hill Country serves over a dozen. We abandoned ourselves to just four - with the White Shoepeg Corn Pudding clearly taking the lead in pure, unadulterated decadence.

Glancing at our meal tickets, we noticed that Hill Country also offers dessert. What a shame.

Anyone who crosses their threshold is sure to fill up on the restaurant's sublime 'cue and sides, leaving not a smidgen of room for Blue Bell Ice Cream or Peach Cobbler. Frankly, if I'd even had a bit of room left I would have gone back to gnaw on another glorious Rib.

Ironbound

It's been a while since I've posted. What can I say in my defense? The truth is that I've been extremely frustrated as of late. Frustrated with attempting to move my site onto another server. So far, my domain registrar has not been cooperative and I've been hitting walls everywhere I turn. In word: AARGH!

And AARGH! makes me think back to my stomach-turning adventure in Newark's Ironbound district, a city region made famous by an old Suzanne Vega tune and the wealth of Portugese and Spanish restaurants that define the historical New Jersey nabe.

Maybe "wealth" is the wrong word here.

Knowing my Vampish restauranting ways, my friend Leah invited me to dinner at one of the Ironbound's most popular spots - Fornos. The menu was gargantuan. The room straight out of 1977. The servers straight off the boat.

Hmm. Could be a find.

Then the food started coming...

and coming...

and coming...

Looks tasty, doesn't it? Well, looks can be deceiving! The appetizer of Gambas al Ajillo was an oily, rubbery mess. The special app of Baked Eggplant and Crabmeat was worse - a gloppy, sloppy, revolting dish.

The main course of fish was so overcooked and greasy that we felt obliged to send it back. Even the pretty - but tepid and tasteless - side of mashed potatoes couldn't save the day.

We switched up the order to get the Paella Valencia instead. Out of everything we tasted it was the most edible of the bunch, but the seafood was flavorless and the rice was pure salt.

Even the complimentary after dinner drinks of Amaretto and Black Sambuca couldn't erase the memory of this utterly nasty meal.

Would I return to Newark's Ironbound? Absolutely! I'd just go to a different restaurant and make sure to carry industrial strength Tums with me at all times.

The Dog Ate My Blog

Well, actually it was my server.

You may have noticed that the site has been down for the last two weeks. Hope your VittlesVamp withdrawal wasn't too painful. Goodness knows, it was painful enough for yours truly.

The site was experiencing a server issue due to constant comment spam attacks. Now I'm back online, but there may be another bump in the road around the bend, when I attempt to switch hosting servers -- while patting my head and rubbing my tummy.

I've got to say that it was a dreadful time for the site to go down. There was so much I wanted to cover:

*My continued obsession with burgers, underscored by a well thought out pitch from a Men's Vogue publicist suggesting I check out their article about The Hamburger Wars.

*A new twist on my burger obsession, downing a nifty Greek Swordfish Slider at Anthos, while spying WD-50 Chef Wylie Dufresne in the corner of the dining room enjoying his lunch almost as much as I was enjoying mine.

*Another year, another Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Champ -- proving there is more to life than burgers.

*The Manhattan Oyster Bar Wars begin - landing a New York Times cover story.

*Warnings about tainted food imports from China prompt promises of "clean" plates at the 2008 Beijing Olympics.

And there was so much more -- including trips to glamorous San Francisco and exotic Newark. (C'mon, I might have lost my blog for a while there, but not my sense of humor!)