There is something undeniably comforting about a plate of Lox, Eggs and Onions for dinner. A few snips of fresh dill on top and it is practically gourmet.
Thinly sliced onion caramelized until golden brown. Nova scotia smoked salmon seared. A quick whisking of eggs tossed into the sizzling pan.
So simple. So good. Lox, Eggs and Onions. It's what's for dinner.
You expect them together on the produce aisle, but not necessarily together on a plate. Except for a squeeze of citrus atop steaming veggies, fresh fruit and vegetables aren't always seen as a natural pairing.
Yet, two posts below, you'll see an image of a Charred Cabbage Salad from a visit in July to Portland's Canard -- and that cabbage was served with sliced peaches, toasted pine nuts, and a shower of Parmesan.
Good stuff.
And, even more recently, I was surprised and delighted at a local fave called Colonie to tuck into a Watermelon Salad with charred Shishito peppers, smoked ricotta, brown butter, fresh oregano leaves, and toasted pumpkin seeds. On another evening at the same restaurant, I was greeted with a special Tomato and Strawberry Salad.
Yes, yes, tomatoes are also considered a fruit as well as a vegetable, but still!
Tomatoes are a great foil for fresh fruit. In fact, I have been known to make a salad of tomatoes, peaches, red onion and cilantro. Delicious combo!
Have you encountered any couplings between fruit and veg this summer? Could they beat out Bennifer as the new "it couple"? We'll see...
Rice had always been one of those foodstuffs that was a challenge for me to make -- that is, until I finally bought myself a rice cooker. That device has served me well.
Made me brave enough to raise my hand when it came to being in charge of the Tahdig for a Persian dinner party with friends. For those of you who don't know, Tahdig is a gorgeous mound of fragrant Basmati rice, heaped into a pot to be browned and crisped at the bottom. It's sort of rice crack. And, now I had to make the rice crack.
Well, as you can surmise from the photo above, I did it. Well, almost. This isn't proper Tahdig. It's Samin Nosrat's Persian-ish Rice. And, allow me to say that it is an amaze-balls recipe. Worked perfectly!
Am I still scared of rice? Less and less each day. Sure that there are other grains out there that will thwart me, but between my rice cooker and Ms. Nosrat's recipes for the rest of my rice escapades, I got this!
Passover, now? Did I screw up my calendar?
Not exactly. These photos are a month old. From April 30th to be exact.
But, wait. Passover was April 15 - 23.
Yeah. I decided to push the date for my celebration. Hence the name of the post. Get it now?
Any which way, the meal was on point. It all started with a cocktail creation, inspired by Charoset. (Yes, you read right.) Think Applejack, Lillet Rouge, apple cider and a spoonful of nutty Nocello, topped with Prosecco.
A drink or two in and it was time to recline and start in with dinner. The secret to my Matzoh Balls? First off, serve them in homemade chicken broth. Second, pack them with fresh herbs for flavor.
Went Israeli for the main event...
On the plate: Braised Lamb with Shawarma Spices, Homemade Hummus, Middle Eastern Cucumber-Tomato Salad, and Labneh. Good stuff.
We didn't break out the Seder Plate or the Maxwell House Haggadahs. Didn't even cue up "The Ten Commandments" to the plagues for a little Technicolor action. So, it wasn't a classic VittlesVamp seder repast. Still, it felt festive. And, after 2 years of Covid, I will take festive whenever and wherever I can find it!
Mazel Tov!
I was seriously nervous. I knew that a review from Teddy would be unadulterated, unfiltered honesty.
He's four. Candor in food reviews are a hallmark of his set.
The words "blech" and "ew" are often trotted out, when youngsters are confronted with new foods. No sensitivity here for the beleaguered chef.
How did I get into this situation? Innocently enough, I had made some kid-friendly chocolate chip cookies for my neighbor Teddy (which he kindly shared with his parents), and since he knew I made ice cream as well, he declared that next I would be making him a frozen confection. Pushy, yes, but I liked his pluck!
I agreed, and inquired about his favorite flavor. He took a beat and then said that he loved "chocolate dipped strawberries," asking if I could do something along those lines.
Hmmm. Not quite Balsamic and strawberries, but pretty darn sophisticated for a four-year-old nonetheless. The gauntlet had been thrown down.
Admittedly, it was several months before I picked it up.
I had baked some Rosemary Shortbread and shared a few with Teddy's parents. Teddy saw the hand-off and immediately remarked "Where's my ice cream?"
I had to pony up -- pony up big time. The question was whether I tempered the flavors for a child's palate or if I went full-throttle.
I think you know which way I went.
I heated milk and steeped cocoa nibs for two hours. I made a slurry with exceedingly good cocoa, yolks and sugar. Mixed that all together, stirring over a medium flame until it thickened, and then added 3 bars of high-grade bittersweet chocolate. Put that in the fridge and then sous vide strawberries with sugar. The next day I tossed the chocolate ice cream base in my freezer tub and let the machine do its thing. Then I grabbed a Tupperware container and layered the ice cream with intense strawberry bits before letting it freeze overnight.
Oh, yeah. This was some solid ice cream goodness. But, was it too much for Teddy? I didn't know.
I asked his Mom to shoot me a text after he tried it -- and even if he didn't care for it, not to hold back. She promised.
Three days later and I was on tenterhooks. No review. Was his Mom too embarrassed to tell me that the ice cream had elicited an "ick" from her son?
I saw her for coffee and after a few niceties I had to ask.
"Oh my, gosh -- he loved it," she said. "I took a video of him eating it and completely forgot to send it to you!"
I breathed a sigh of relief! And then she forwarded the video, so I could hear for myself.
Teddy's words as he took a bite: "Let's see about this...Hmmm...I like it! It is soooo good. Yummy, yummy, yummy!"
Poetry. Pure poetry. I don't think I've gotten a review that pleased me more.
"Yummy, yummy, yummy!" will be the words that carry me into 2022 with a bit of optimism!
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.
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.
A little over a year ago I wrote about fear of rice. Admittedly it's hard to get it right on the stovetop. From time to time I've mustered some small success with basmati rice. Even so, it took buying a rice cooker for rice to start making regular guest appearances at dinnertime.
Sadly, there is no device or advice that has yet to help me when it comes to another staple -- one that has proven to be a formidable frenemy. I'm talking about Satan's favorite high-cholesterol snack, the Deviled Egg.
Some downright gorgeous specimens from The Long Island Bar & Restaurant are pictured above. Delicious.
Would I like to replicate these beauties for a Southern-style dinner party opener (someday, when we can have dinner parties again)? Yes! But, alas, all my attempts at hard-boiling and peeling eggs has come up short. I am never able to peel away the shell clean. I am always ending up with whites with major pockmarks. Not a pretty sight. And Deviled Eggs must be pretty. That's in the Deviled Egg bylaws. It's pretty strict about the need for Deviled Eggs to be pretty.
I have tried many methods. All have failed. I have officially given up and I will leave the "Deviling" to those more capable. I think we'll all be better for it. I know the eggs will be better for it for sure.
The kitchen still isn't done. Almost there. Not quite. Despite all that, currently back in my apartment.
What does that mean for food prep? Can't stock the fridge yet and my cooking equipment isn't on-hand, so meals are a bit of a "throw together" these days.
Poor me? Not really. I'm making it work. I'm going with a picnic approach to dining. Think a slice of pâté from Marlow & Daughters with some cornichons, a dab of Dijon, and good crackers. The vacuum-sealed Spanish charcuterie above were lovely with a wedge of lightly smoked Idiazábal cheese and a small baguette from Sullivan Street Bakery. Then again, Acme whitefish salad spooned onto slices of cucumbers was also quite satisfying. Mandarin oranges have been a go-to dessert, easy to peel and luscious to down.
Am I ready to start cooking and baking again?
Hell-to-the-yes! But, the picnic-ing phase of this renovation hasn't been all bad.
The kitchen renovation is in the homestretch. Or at least I hope it is.
The walls had accidentally been painted a dark shade of green - the color meant for the trim - but now they've been reprimed and repainted. The cabinetry has been delivered and partially assembled. After going through a monthlong frenzy of ordering sample tile for the backsplash, I finally settled on one and placed an order. It just arrived, as did the grout.
I never wanted to do this kitchen overhaul in the first place, but once the structural damage was uncovered there was no turning back. It's been a bit of a nerve-wracking enterprise, but I do recognize that I am very lucky. Needing to redo a kitchen in the middle of a pandemic is a hassle - but it is decidedly a first world problem.
Just keeping my fingers crossed that it turns out okay. Please let it turn out okay. Please let it turn out okay. Please let it turn out okay.
Maybe I should cross my eyes and toes for good measure.