VittlesVamp

Heat Stroke & Sandwiches

It was 104 degrees on Saturday. I had a ticket to the Serious Eats All-Star Sandwich Festival, but I refused to leave the comfort of my air-conditioner.

Then I got the call: Could I bring $200 worth of $10 dollar bills and four cans of bug spray out to Governors Island for the SE crew and volunteers?

I couldn't fail them. So, I put on a sundress, sunscreen, made a makeshift fan out of the cover of an old Edible Brooklyn and headed out the door.

Then it hit me like a ton of bricks: a wave of sizzling, muggy, roasting heat. The wave didn't stop. It kept coming at me.

I battled through, hauled ass to the bank and drugstore, and then hightailed it to the Governors Island ferry.

Landing, I chose to ignore the relentless sun and walked onto the Fest.

Once there, I was confronted by a line of anxious foodies, waiting for the gates to open and the gluttony to begin. Frankly, I was pretty sure a good number were going to head for the ice cold beer, before turning their attentions to the sandwiches. (Not a bad plan!)

I walked past and delivered my goods, just as the gates opened.

Having fulfilled my mission, I decided to try a few of the event's bread-encased delights.

Sandwich gorging, beer drinking and snapshot taking followed.

Enjoy the obligatory sandwich porn...

I'm hoping they make this an annual event -- but that the 2012 Serious Eats All-Star Sandwich Festival takes place on a day when heat stroke isn't a real concern.

Better yet, maybe I can convince them to hold it in front of my air-conditioner.

Southern Fried Brooklyn

Let's set the record straight: Everything does not taste better fried. I don't care how many weird things you stick in a deep fat fryer, I'm not going for it, just cause it's encased a searing hot, oil-drenched crispy coating.

Chicken, though? That's another matter!

Yet, great Fried Chicken is a hard thing to find in New York City.

I've tried Hill Country's clucker. I've also gone outside of Southern traditions with the award-winning Japanese-inspired fried hen at Blue Ribbon Sushi. None of them did the trick.

Recently though, the trick was done. Done in King's County no less.

The specimen wasn't even on the bone. Hot out of the fryer at Van Horn Sandwich Shop in Cobble Hill, this plump, crisply-coated chicken breast was stuffed ever so gracefully into a fresh Brooklyn bakery-made sesame seed bun. It's only other adornment was a bright purple cabbage slaw, which offered the sandwich a crunchy, tart, vinegary kick alongside a bit of jalapeno heat.

This was good eating. Heck, even the sandwich plate's pickle spear and side salad, greens dribbled with an addictive poppy-seed dressing, were good eating. I added a tall ice-cold glass of Sweet Tea and almost swore that I was dining below the Mason-Dixon line.

And, just to make sure that the Chicken Sandwich wasn't a fluke -- Van Horn as a "one hit wonder" -- I took one for the team this weekend and tried a Shrimp Po' Boy special.

Now, this was a masterful sandwich. Not better than the Chicken Sandwich. Wholly its own -- and holy moly!

The roll was lightly crunchy on the outside, soft and airy within. The shrimp were juicy and tender, flash-fried with a thin battered coating that satisfyingly shattered with every bite. The lettuce, tomato and homemade dressing rounded out the sandwich well, and the Po' Boy seriously sang Swanee when I capped it off with some peppery green cabbage slaw.

Grinning and full, I learned from one of the owners that breakfast will be on the menu come fall.

But, can Van Horn handle biscuits and country ham?

Once again, I plan on taking one for the team.

Fresh Figs Make Me Think Of "I, Claudius"

Anyone else remember that critical moment in "I, Claudius" when Emperor Augustus, recognizing his wife Livia's murderous treachery, decides to eat a diet of only ripe figs he picks himself from the palace garden? Nonetheless, Augustus mysteriously worsens and dies.

Only after his death do we learn that Livia coated each and every piece of fruit on the tree with poison.

Death by fig.

And yet, when I see them at the local produce market, I can't help but pick up a few of these pitch-black plump beauties. Livia be damned, they are the perfect breakfast. I slice them to reveal their bright pink centers and serve them over a cloud of fresh ricotta, drizzled with honey and sprinkled with rosemary and sea salt.

A meal fit for an Emperor -- and most definitely for a Vamp.

Red, White & Black Currant

I couldn't resist. Could you?

I'd never cooked with black currants before. This was my chance. I snapped up a quart at the greenmarket.

Yesterday, I made an intense Black Currant Jam. Today, I made a creamy Black Currant Ice Cream with a deep, dark swirl of Creme de Cassis and another of the vibrant purple jam.

All that and I still have a pint of the tart, plump berries left in the fridge. What to do? Perhaps I'll swap them out for the blueberries in a recipe for Lemon Blueberry Pound Cake.

Hmmm...A slab of Lemon Black Currant Pound Cake with a scoop of Black Currant Ice Cream or a healthy slathering of Black Currant Jam?

Yeah. Expect a complete trifecta of black currant out of my kitchen this week!