VittlesVamp

Donut Recovery & Rooftop Drinks

I am seeing signs of recovery in New York. There is still a throwback feeling of living in the Koch-era at times, but I feel like things are pick up steam again. I've seen this concept of a "donut recovery" bandied about. No, Fan-Fan, Doughnut Plant and Dough won't save us. (What a delicious set of saviors!) We're talking about a "donut-shaped recovery" in which the outerboroughs and environs of NYC spring back to life while Manhattan and Midtown in particular take much longer to revive.

In some ways, I can see that being a solid call. But, New York always likes to prove the exception to the rule. And, not long ago I was invited by a liquor world insider to an event in Manhattan's Financial District that was very exception-al.

In this case, it was an introduction to a new sourghum-based spirit called Soka from Empirical, a cutting edge distillery in Copenhagen. What made it exceptional? First off, the drinks were undeniably delicious...

And, the crowd was ecstatic to be out-and-about as well.

Out-and-about, you say?

Well, it was a pretty darn exception-al version of out-and-about, one that literally took all of us outside on the 64th floor of a FiDi high-rise. The bar was called Overstory. Words cannot fully describe the soaring view, so take a look...

Sitting down on the other side of the wraparound terrace facing Brooklyn was pretty incredible too...

New York City sparkled from that vantage. With a drink in hand and friends by my side, I'd even have to say that it looked magical.

And, as I took in the bar's 360-degree panorama I started thinking that maybe the city was a box of donuts. There would be holes, but tasty bits would surround them. And, if the city's history is any guide, those holes won't remain. Someone or something will always want to claim a place in the city, make their mark. But right then, I was hopeful for the city's future.

Not sure how long I can hold onto that feeling. Perhaps I'll need to revisit Overstory and have a sip of Soka sooner than I think.

A Refugee Chef Brings A Taste Of Iran To Manhattan

I had no idea that a Refugee Food Festival existed, let alone that it had started in Paris and expanded into restaurant kitchens across 15 cities the world over. It's an impressive endeavor, designed to change perceptions about refugees and find common ground - all through sharing food at the table.

Food has a power all its own. A meal made with love and talent can bring people together in a way that nothing else can. Think Babette's Feast. But, this wasn't about Blinis Demidoff or Cailles en Sarcophage. The setting may have been very French - Gramercy's Le Coq Rico - but the dinner was pure Persia. This past Saturday night, Chef Nasrin (who only goes by her first name to protect family still in Iran), served up a mesmerizing menu filled with saffron, mint, and pomegranate - food that excited the senses and satisfied the soul.

Starters, pictured above, featured a baked rice cake called Tahchin, with a crackling, crisp rice crust encasing moist delicate saffron-infused grains and bits of chicken, sprinkled with dried barberries and nuts. It was accompanied by yogurt-cucumber-mint dip called Mast Khiar, and a Persian roasted eggplant and walnut dip topped with frizzled onions, called Kashke Bademjan. Then came the main course...

...a pomegranate and chicken stew called Fesenjoon, served atop sour cherry rice. Sweet and sour, rich and bright, it was unlike anything else I've ever eaten. A couple Iranian falafel also graced the plate with a vivid green chutney, just in case you needed the combo of crunch and cilantro to serve as a palate cleanser.

When the chef emerged from the kitchen, I couldn't congratulate her enough. I wasn't alone in doing so. Diners flocked to her side to compliment the meal and recognize her gifts.

While I know proceeds from the dinner are going to help causes that fight for refugee rights in this country, I can't help but think that one weekend of festival events is not nearly enough. Refugees fill restaurant kitchens in New York and all over the U.S., feeding us all year round. They need to know that they are home. We need to find a way to welcome them, their cultures, their cuisines, their families, their hopes and dreams.

The American melting pot will be all the better for it.

A Dining Dream Come True

I am such a fan girl sometimes. I have always swooned at the notion of visiting the James Beard House for one of their gourmet dinners. Passing by the West Village townhouse I always try to steal a glance through the windows, craning my neck to get a look at the tables inside - jealous of the guests, aching to be one of them.

Well, last night I wasn't just a fan girl. I was a dinner guest.

And, it was everything it was cracked up to be - from kicking off the evening with a flute of NV Ruinart, Blanc de Blancs, Champagne, Brut and bits of Korean Bacon with Spicy Mustard to Steak Tartare served with addictive crispy beef tendon puffs and glasses of NV R. Geoffroy, Champagne Rose de Saignee Brut.

That was just the beginning. The food was courtesy of Cote, the new hot gourmet Korean steakhouse in Flatiron.

Let me say, the steak was freakin' sublime. We had a Vertical Tasting of Dry Aged Rib Eye. What is that, you ask? Think about a rosy red slab of seared beef aged for 28 days, next to one that was aged for 55 days, next to one aged for 110 days. Oh, yeah. They brought the funk. They brought the kimchi jam!

I could go on, but why make you even more green-eyed with jealousy than necessary?

So, fan girl no more, I might need to step up and buy tickets to a few more of these James Beard Foundation dinners. Next time I hope they seat me at the table in James' bedroom, mirrored ceiling and all. I think that'll suit me just fine.

Life-Altering Cornbread

Most SXSW Interactive attendees came home from Austin with stories about the on-stage sessions, brand activations, and virtual reality demonstrations.

Admittedly, all of those things were impressive, but I was about a different type of excitement -- and it came in a cast iron skillet.

Forget about waiting on line to get to see President Obama, to get on the Mr. Robot ferris wheel, or to check out the Samsung rollercoaster virtual reality experience. Get a move onto a restaurant called Corner in the JW Marriott and order up some of their awe-inspiring Zucchini Cornbread.

So. Not. Kidding.

This stuff was life changing. I am a new woman; a reinvigorated human being ready to take on the world.

I found nirvana in a warm, crisp, hauntingly rich and sweet slice of luscious Zucchini Cornbread.

And, you bet that I asked real nice and got the recipe.

And, if you ask real nice, maybe I can change your life by sharing it.

I Missed My 10th Anniversary

I missed it. Missed it by a long-shot. VittlesVamp's 10th anniversary was September 17th. Today is November 9th. Think I'm going to have to make this up to myself big time.

At least I took the opportunity - albeit a belated one - to flashback to 2003. Couldn't help but smirk at the very first post, which detailed my quest to find frozen yogurt that tasted like yogurt; you know, with that authentic "yogurty" tart flavor.

Flashforward to 2013 to see ubiquitous Pinkberry and Red Mango outposts at-the-ready to fill that FroYo craving.

Was it all due to VittlesVamp's incredible influence? Don't think we'll ever know for sure...

Whether or not I can stake claim to the trend, I think 10 years is still worth celebrating - or at least worthy of a gift. Apparently the traditional 10th anniversary gift needs to involve tin. I imagine that a roll of heavy duty tinfoil will be in order pre-Thanksgiving anyway, so that's taken care of. Yet, if I go with the more modern theme option, I'm supposed to get myself some diamond jewelry.

This could get pricey.

Then again, I'm worth it.

Diamonds, Reynolds Wrap and a swirl of FroYo. Sounds perfect.

When Restaurant Week Goes Right

I used to love taking advantage of Restaurant Week, checking out hot spots that I might not visit otherwise if it wasn't for the special menu that was kind on the wallet.

Over the past few years, however, I've found myself going out of my way to avoid Restaurant Week spots (especially hard, since the "week" has now ballooned into a full month). Lunches and dinners at restaurants participating are usually jam-packed and the quality of service and food often takes a sharp tumble to boot.

So, it was a happy accident when I stumbled into two separate lunches last week that were both lovely -- and part of the Restaurant Week hoopla.

First up was The Dutch. The place was buzzing, but no more so than on an average sunny afternoon in Soho. Our Southern-bred waiter was pleasant and on top of his game. Biting into a salad of Beets, Avocado, Cloumage Cheese and Pistachios and I knew the kitchen was on top of its game too. And then there was the chicken -- Fried Chicken graced with touch of chili heat, served alongside Honey Biscuits and a vinegary-tart Cole Slaw.

Oh yes, this was the real deal, no matter if I was getting a deal when it came to the meal's price tag.

Keeping the theme of great poultry in play, my next unexpected Restaurant Week lunch was in the West Village at Mas (la grillade), a warm and welcoming charmer with sunshine streaming in from an oversized skylight. After ordering a glass of Cremant and tucking into a perfectly seared piece of Duck Confit, served up with Grilled Corn, Pickled Eggplant, Bacon and Swiss Chard, I was feeling quite cosseted. Pictured above, I have to say that this is most certainly one of the best duck dishes in all of New York City, the meat meltingly tender and rich with flavor, offset by the crisp skin and melange of flavors and textures in the glorious riff on succotash below.

And, as an extra incentive to return, my waitress let me know that the restaurant regularly serves up a three-course lunch menu throughout the year -- for only three dollars more than during Restaurant Week.

In the end, I guess what I shunned has showed me up by showing me a good time. Will I still stay away from Restaurant Week reservations in the future? Probably. But, I will happy to revisit to The Dutch and Mas (la grillade) at any time of year, Restaurant Week included.

Birthday Wishes: My Italian Grandma in Staten Island

This birthday a long-held dream of mine finally came true. After years and years, I finally acquired an honest-to-goodness Nonna, an Italian grandmother who knew how to speak Italiano and cook with wild abbondonza abandon.

Dear friends gave me this remarkable gift by joining me on the Staten Island Ferry for a celebration at a wonderful small restaurant named Enoteca Maria. What makes it particularly wonderful isn't a lady named Maria. No, in fact, what makes this restaurant completely unique is its rotating collection of real Italian grandmas that man the kitchen, devising an every-changing set of menus that feature regional family recipes passed down from Nonna to Nonna.

My Nonna was from the Northern Italian town of Bergamo and that night's menu reflected her Lombardy leanings. We went with it, ordering up dish after dish of delights, from a garlicky good Stuffed Artichoke to a rich rendition of Baked Eggplant and Tomato, and a tongue-tingling platter of Seared Hot Peppers with Anchovies to a melt-in-your-mouth sunny yellow Butternut Squash Risotto. Pictured above, the risotto was made even more delicious by a sprinkling of fragrant green sage leaves and shaved Parmesan Reggiano.

And did I mention the incredible homemade Focaccia? Or how about the night's riff on nose-to-tail dining?

That's right. My Nonna took head-to-tuchis quite literally as we tucked into a Split Roasted Sheep's Head crusted with herbs, garlic and breadcrumbs. That was followed by a dish of Roasted Veal Tails with Peas and Lemon that was luxuriously tender and utterly irresistible.

My good friend Max -- who snapped these gorgeous photos -- was so taken with the tails that he ended up including it in his Serious Eats New York list of his best NYC bites of the year. No surprise, it is one of mine as well.

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.

Rum Deserves Better

I adore rum cocktails and aged rum as a slow sipper. So, I was mighty delighted to be offered an invite to a Rums of Puerto Rico event at the Empire State Building, excited to potentially meet some of PR's finest rum producers and a few keen mixologists as well.

Unfortunately, what I got was a sad list of unimaginative cocktails at the bar (Rum and Coke anyone? or how about a Rum and Orange Juice?), a lot of thumpa-thumpa music blaring in my ears (if that complaint makes me old, so be it!), and political speeches aplenty. Throw in two bartenders who put on a pathetic homage to Tom Cruise in the 80's flick "Cocktail" and an odd appearance by Food Network star Claire Robinson (it's not like she's Puerto Rican or a bartender), and you've pretty much got the evening's festivities down.

Even the gift bag (pictured above) was disappointing. Think rum cake and cigars. Seriously.

I hope the producers of this rum reception think more about the rum the next time they come to town. I'd love to learn -- and taste -- more. If the Cotes du Rhone folks could turn their annual event from Cotes du Wrong into Cotes du Right, I have every faith that the Rums of Puerto Rico team can deliver.

Until then, you can find me at the bar at The Edison Hotel's Rum House, downing a Tortuga or two (or three).

Cotes Du Right

Last year, I wrote about a swank Cotes du Rhone event that I attended in celebration of a new ad campaign touting the wine's gift for accompanying fancy fare and casual grub alike. At that time, I took the event programmers to task for only focusing on the posh half of the equation, delicious as it may have been.

This year, they went to the other end of the spectrum, inviting a select group of foodies to a pizza party at Chelsea's Co. The pizzas were paired with some of the Rhone Valley's loveliest bottles by Blue Hill Sommelier Thomas Carter. I enjoyed all the vin, but officially developed a crush on Carter when it came to his selection of Vidal-Fleury, Cote-Rotie 2005, a ruby red beauty offering hints of pomegranate, dark cherry and tobacco. (Why aren't there more sommeliers at pizzerias?)

The pizza was equally divine: Bianca Tradizionale, featuring mozzarella, pecorino, black pepper and pork strutto by Chef Nate Appelbaum of Pulino's; Corn Pie, showcasing corn puree, mozzarella, parmesan, cherry tomatoes, fresh basil and chili pepper from Chef Jim Lahey, our pizzeria host for the event; Brussels Sprout Pizza, with fior di latte, pancetta afumicatta, garlic and parmesan from Chef Matheiu Palombino of Motorino...

...Margherita Pie spotlighting sweet tomato, mozzarella and fresh basil by Chef Mark Iacono of Lucali; and a thick-crusted Sweet Pie with chocolate, Salvatore Brooklyn ricotta and raw honey from Chef Heather Carlucci of Print Restaurant.

It was an amazing meal accompanied by a selection of sensational Rhone Valley wines. And, just reliving it now, I really don't know if I can ever have pizza with Chianti again.