VittlesVamp

My Chinese Take-Out Seder - Featuring Charlton Heston & A Cast Of Thousands

This year's Passover seder included - as usual - a reading of the Haggadah, nibbles of Charoseth and Horseradish and a visit from Elijah. It also featured - as usual - a video portion of the evening, when I cued up the plagues scene from the film version of "The Ten Commandments" so we could watch Charlton Heston and Yul Brynner pose and lock horns as the Nile turns to blood and hail falls from the sky.

The meal began with - as usual - my fantabulous homemade Matzoh Ball Soup. It drew moans of pleasure - as usual - from the crowd.

Then the usual took a nose dive. A turn. It fell off the map.

The main portion of the dinner did not continue with the traditional Beef Brisket, Stewed Lamb Shanks or even a Roast Chicken or two. Instead, I was convinced to feature the real deal Jewish food of real deal New Yorkers - Chinese.

And, brought forth to the table was Peking Duck, Sauteed Snow Pea Leaves with Garlic, Vegetable Fried Rice and Duck Tongue with Sugar Snap Peas in XO Sauce.

And, it was good. (Except for the Duck Tongues. Who would have expected them to have bones?!?)

Next year, may we celebrate in Shanghai. (Oooh! Soup dumplings filled with my Matzoh Ball chicken broth!?!)

Rudi Had A Little Lamb

The head was sawed just so
And everywhere that Rudi went
Carnivores were sure to go...

And, so it was last weekend, when Master Butcher Rudi Weid butchered the carcass of a 110 lb sustainably and humanely raised lamb, straight from the pastures of upstate New York at the Institute of Culinary Arts in Manhattan. In the able hands of the expert butcher, bones were cleaved, glands were extracted, a liver was sliced and shanks were hewed. It was all for a good cause, with proceeds benefitting Slow Food NYC's Harvest Time program.

After the lamb was broken down, we nibbled on a pre-cooked lambie (darn if those deep-fried testicles weren't tasty!) and the bidding began on Weid's gorgeous cuts...

But, alas, The Vamp was out bid on everything from a leg to stew meat. I even came up short on these glorious, roasted half heads...

Guess I'll just need to hit the greenmarket for a sustainably farm raised lamb carcass of my own. Then I'll just need to get a professional bone saw and I'll be ready to go.

(Figure that's a not-too-subtle hint for a holiday gift. Get me a cleaver too and you'll have one happy Vamp on your hands!)

Vendy Adventure - Part 2

Have you been watching your computer screen with bated breath wondering if I was able to secure the necessary serving trays for the Vendy VIP tables?

How could you doubt your Vamp? Of course I did! And, when I returned to the Queens Museum of Art with Mr. Dan, the trucks began to offer Vendy volunteers and board members some early tastings, starting with the gloriously, sweet and decadent Belgian offerings of Wafels & Dinges. As pictured above, it is a dessert to be reckoned with.

The rest of the fare ranged from Cravings' Taiwanese grub...

...to the spicy chow from Jamaican Dutchy...

...to the crack-cocaine allure of Schnitzel & Things, deep-fried, crispy Schnitzel...

The "Things" were tasty too.

No surprise, but dinner was a big "no" when I got home.

Vendy Adventure - Part 1

Having joined the Vendy Awards planning committee several months ago, I had anxiously looked forward to the "big day." The day when a bevy of popular New York City street vendors would descend upon Flushing at the Queens Museum of Art, the Unisphere ominously in the background, awaiting a crowd of street-meat fans and a collection of glittering judges (sadly, not actually wearing glitter).

Well, yesterday, the "big day" finally arrived with the sound of my alarm going off at 5:30am. Ugh. I am not a morning person. But in the name of the Vendy Awards and the charitable organization they celebrate and support - the Street Vendor Project - which provides vendors with legal representation and much more, I arose.

Hitting Manhattan's Ceci-Cela for early a.m. croissant and coffee for the team with my murse-wearing pal Kyle, we soon ventured forth to Queens en masse in a high-stylin' van. Still, I could hear my bed calling my name all the way from Brooklyn. Hmmm. Maybe I could nap during the trip. Zzzzzz...

Once we parked at the museum, the caffeine started to kick in. Within minutes, we were put to work and then the beloved trucks and carts started pulling in one by one, like debutantes arriving at the ball. It was an amazing sight to see, from spying the Big Gay Ice Cream Truck getting all gay-ed up (see above) to gazing at the unstoppable smile belonging to Freddy, the King of Falafel, as he set up his station (see below).

And then, there was a crisis. The party rental company had dropped off the tents, tables and chairs with no problem, but had forgotten about the all-important serving trays for the Vendy's first-ever VIP table service guests. Unfortunately, the folks at the Queens Museum of Art didn't have trays to lend and they categorically refused to let us rip the priceless canvasses from the wall to create makeshift ones.

What's a Vamp to do? OMG! I suddenly realized that the museum is located in Flushing, and Flushing means only one thing to a Vamp -- CHINATOWN. Surely, there we could find a kitchen supply spot with ample wares and the necessary trays could be purchased lickety-split. I quickly corralled the amiable Dan, another committee member, to join me on the hunt. Why Dan? He had wheels and an ulterior motive: he desperately needed coffee.

We headed to the parking lot, stopped along the way by our main museum rep, who suggested we hit the nearby Western Beef instead of going farther afield. So, we did.

There were no trays there, but joyfully for Dan, this Western Beef outpost laid claim to another outdoor eating favorite, brethren of food carts and trucks -- the food stand.

He finally had his shot of caffeine. But, before we ambled back to the car and headed to Chinatown, we spotted a sign that assured us that all would go well on our quest.

It wasn't exactly a thumbs up or anything, but I decided it was good luck nonetheless.

How Did I Miss This One?

I can't believe it. I missed it completely.

International Waffle Day.

It was this past Wednesday, March 25th, and I plumb forgot. At least I didn't let Pancake Month slip away without notice. But, I feel ashamed to have not made sure that the flapjack's breakfast brethren, the sweet maple-syrup drizzled waffle, also made the grade -- or at least a calendar entry reminder on my Blackberry.

Thankfully, I've learned my lesson. I've already marked October 9th and November 28th on my calendar. (World Egg Day and National French Toast Day, respectively.)

The End Of Pancake Month Draws Near

I'm not one to feel the need to cling to bizarre holidays -- Festivus being the obvious exception to the rule. Still, I felt like I would derelict in my duties if I didn't celebrate National Pancake Month is some way, shape, manner or form.

A trip to the holy grail of pancakes seemed inevitable. And so, with Lady M in tow, I ventured to the Lower East Side and finally tasted what is universally considered to be the quintessential blue-chip stack of blueberry griddle cakes -- the Clinton Street Baking Company's Wild Maine Blueberry Pancakes with Warm Maple Butter.

Because a pun is unavoidable, here you go: I flipped for these flapjacks!

I grew up on the tried and true IHOP Happy Face Pancakes, but these Clinton Street cakes blew the smile off of that stack and put a happy-go-lucky, supremely satisfied and very grown-up smile on my face.

The tender cakes were fluffy, but still had a bit of toothsome give to the chew. The blueberries were honey sweet and bursting with juicy berry goodness. Then there was the dipping sauce of warm butter and maple. Oh my God! Its heady, sweet, buttery, saucy appeal made me want to keep a flask of the stuff on hand at all times, in case of flavor emergencies.

Lady M and I only shared one of these glorious stacks and were thankful we didn't indulge in another. These are not pancakes on which to gorge. These are pancakes meant for savoring and celebration.

Needless to say, I think we did up Pancake Month just right. And, I can't help but wish that every month was Pancake Month.

Happy Bloggin' Birthday

I've been so darn busy that I plumb forgot my own blog's 5th birthday. That's right folks, half a decade of VittlesVamp postings have been yours to treasure and love.

And, if you send me fabulous birthday gifts, you might just get another few years of postings out of me! Bubbly, caviar and diamonds are all more than acceptable. Heck, I'd even been delighted with a set of Ginsu Knives. (Can they really cut through a nail, a tin can, and a radiator hose and still cut a tomato paper thin?)

Through The Eye Of The Bagel

When my pal BrooklynBS called to let me know he had an extra ticket to Neil Diamond at Madison Square Garden, I knew something special was called for. With seats on the floor, we would be close enough to throw rose petals at his feet.

But, c'mon! This was Brooklyn-bred Neil Diamond, we were talking about. Damn straight, I wasn't bringing him flowers no more.

The only thing a bona fide Jewess could do was add an bag of mini-bagels to her FreshDirect order to make sure she had something on hand that was more befitting this Judaic god of schmalzy pop. (And, yeah, I know these aren't even Lender's, but they were all FreshDirect had.)

I'd originally planned to fling them on the stage when he sang "America," but then thought better of it. I didn't think the Haddasah crowd in the audience would approve. Besides, the New York Times had just revealed that Diamond was very picky about his diet and concerned about his electrolytes. Didn't want to throw his nutritional balance out of whack, lest he'd refuse to sing "Forever in Blue Jeans."

Then inspiration struck.

A new form of concert photography was born. One that could truly capture the essence of this dynamic performer.

Behold: Pictures of Diamond in concert, snapped through the hole of a mini-bagel...

Good thing I didn't bring Matzoh.

Red, White & Blue

This blue has nothing to do with Lady M heading to the altar. Nor does the hue combination have anything to do with my recent 4th of July gathering.

In this case, we take a short break from Lady M's next "Blue" to talk about the red, white and blue of the French flag and take a moment to honor Bastille Day.

The New York Times has done so with stories about the attempt to create an authentic bistro in the East Village with Resto Leon, and a profile of the 87-year old Chef Grand-mère who offers up a little slice of La Belle France at the Theater District's own Chez Napoleon.

And after a quick jaunt to the Smith Street Bastille Day festivities, which seemed to attract more beer drinking hipsters than Francophiles, I am more sure than ever that a trip to France can only be found in the unexpected corners of our five boroughs. Bathazar might be marvelous, but it's only an American's wet dream of a Parisian brasserie. Still, I'm okay with that -- and can appreciate it's charms. Especially, if the New York Times and others keep pointing me in the right direction if I'm looking for genuine je ne sais quoi.

Vive la France!

Sauerkraut Days

How can you not fall in love with a four day event devoted to one of the most under-praised condiments in the book - sauerkraut?

Tomorrow kicks off the 106th Sauerkraut Days celebration in Ackley, Iowa. Highlights will include free sauerkraut and wieners, a German band, a kids cabbage toss and a Sauerkraut Queen coronation.

Sounds like a damn fine weekend of fun to me. Gassy. But fun.