VittlesVamp

Cookie! Cookie! Cookie! Cookie! Cookie!

'Tis the season. Time for cookies to come out of the oven and take center stage.

And, take center stage they did at my pal Max's cookie swap last night. His dining room table was brimming with cookies by the dozen, a mind-boggling array of freshly baked treats.

My fave? I had two. First up, savory buttery coins dotted with briny black olive bits. Hoping that this is the recipe, so I can make them at home. My second pick was actually my own cookies. A tad full of myself? Perhaps, but my Crunchy Jumble cookies won plenty of kudos from other party guests.

A classic from my childhood, this cookie marries the traditional chocolate chipper to the snap, crackle and pop of Rice Krispies. They are all at once light and buttery and remarkably crisp, studded with chocolate for good measure.

I'd say that I'd make them for next year's cookie swap, but the truth is that I don't want to swap them at all!

Crunchy Jumbles

1 1/4 cup flour
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 stick butter (room temperature)
1 cup sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla
2 cups Rice Krispies
1 cup chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Combine flour, baking soda and salt. In a separate large bowl combine butter and sugar. Add egg and vanilla to butter mixture. Incorporate flour mixture one-third at a time until well mixed. Add cereal and chips. Drop by rounded tablespoon on cookie sheets with parchment paper. Bake 15 minutes. Makes 30 - 36 cookies.

Mum's the Word

It's magic. Undeniable magic. A meal can be great -- but it is made more so by a mother's love.

I bore witness to this culinary phenomenon earlier this week at my pal Claire's West Village home. Arriving for dinner, I met her parents, who had come to call from Yorkshire, England. Lucky for me, besides bringing the usual parental glad tidings, Claire's "Mum" had brought along her all-time favorite recipe for Lamb Roast with Potatoes and Onions.

Pictured above, this was a marvel of a dinner. The lamb was so tender that it fell off the bone with the gentle touch of a fork. The potatoes were a toasty deep brown, crisp and soft all at once, and the roast onions were caramelized and addictive.

Still, I had to wonder if the meal would have been quite as comforting if I hadn't been sitting next to the beaming "Mum" chef who served us with such pride and pleasure.

After giving it a bit of thought, I concluded that the answer on that score has to be "nope." It was "Mum's" presence, her unmitigated motherly joy in preparing and serving the dinner that gave it a maternal je ne sais qua that took a very good meal into the marvelous zone.

That said, if anyone has similar tales to share when it comes to Dad-made fare, I'd love to hear about it. Equal-opportunity parental cooking fans, it is your time to shout out!

T-Day Rewind

This year's Thanksgiving kicked my culinary ass. Mama Vamp grabbed the head of my table and my foodie friends delivered the goods -- in the form of dishes aplenty to add to the feast.

First up, the requisite nibbles of bar nuts, cheese, grapes and olives, alongside a round of Applejack Manhattans. Then I served an amuse bouche that was sure to amuse everyone's bouches. Pictured above, I set before my guests the most elegant riff on nachos that this earth has ever seen: artisanal low-salt potato chips, served with a bit of rich creme fraiche and a spoon of brackish caviar, all showered with freshly snipped chives.

Nachos of the gods!

Next up, my pal Emi set the stage for our appetizer of Ecuadorian Shrimp Ceviche, laying out bowls of the traditional toppings of crisp plantain chips, still-warm popcorn, and slices of bright green lime for squirting.

Then bowls of the glorious crustaceans arrived...

Low moans of pleasure were heard as every last bite was downed.

Now, it was time for the main event. The bird...

What a pretty bird she was, dry-brined for 24 hours with two types of salt and slivers of garlic, and fragrant herbs tucked under the skin. But what is a bird without fixins? We had them all: Roasted Carrots and Parsnips, two kinds of Cranberry Sauce, Creamy Celery Root Puree, Kale Salad with Roasted Squash and Mushroom-Onion Gravy. Then came the starch parade, led by a Cajun classic of Shrimp and Eggplant Dressing...

...And my archaeologically-inclined pal Kristin brought a heaping tray of Wild Rice Dressing, just in case the Cajun-style version wasn't to everyone's liking...

Both dressings were a big hit with the crowd. But, putting us all over the starch precipice, was a mammoth platter of homemade Sweet Potato Rolls, fluffy and just itching for a generous pat of butter.

We also laid waste to several bottles of wine, and a couple of pies from Four and Twenty Blackbirds. The slices were piled high with whiskey-scented whipped cream and the room fell silent as we greedily devoured every morsel.

There wasn't much left at the end of the evening...

To think this photo was taken midway through the meal. A few white meat scraps, a lone wing and the carcass was all that was left to me at the evening's end.

Thankfully, that is just enough for me to cook up pot of gobsmacking Turkey Gumbo over the weekend. Who wants to come over for a bowl?

P.S. Special thanks to my foodie friend Max for his gorgeous photos of the feast!

Chez Vamp Goes Southeast Asian

Once in a while an idea goes beyond good and ventures into genius. Such was the case when a few of food fanatical friends and I decided to put together a Southeast Asian fete.

The plan was such: Meet up in Brooklyn's Chinatown one Saturday morning for dim sum at Pacificana and then go food shopping for ingredients along Sunset Park's 8th Avenue. Following the grocery gauntlet, we'd hightail it back to my apartment to cook en masse.

As soon as we had set a date, the recipe search began in earnest. Several of Chef Andy Ricker's recipes were under consideration in order to add a little Pok Pok into the proceedings, but none of us could resist checking out SheSimmers and a couple of Singaporean food sites as well.

Finally, after weeks of planning, the day arrived. Emi, Jim, Max and I hit Sunset Park with high expectations.

Happily, those expectations were well met at Pacificana. Dim sum was glorious -- if not a bit gluttonous. (More Har Gow please!)

After the last bit of Fried Radish Cake was demolished, we left the table and descended upon New York Mart with a vengeance. To give you a taste, pictured above is just one of many overstuffed baskets from our shopping spree.

Weighted down with bags of groceries, we grabbed the subway, jockeyed past a woman who almost impaled us with a scabbard and antler horns (don't ask) and made our way to my apartment to unload bags and bags of duck meat, holy basil, wonton wrappers, cilantro, garlic, napa cabbage, soy sauce, fresh ginger and so much more. Within moments I'd cracked open a few beers for the team and my pal Emi cracked open her recipe journal...

... and started to make homemade Chinese dumplings...

She wasn't alone in the kitchen for long. Minutes later, Chad, Sandra and Ori arrived, with even more ingredients in tow. Soon the phrase "too many cooks in the kitchen" was laid to rest, as chopping, stewing and steaming began. It was a whirling dervish of culinary craziness, as my small kitchen became home to five cooks and two sous chef volunteers.

The sights and smells were beguiling, from Chad's rendition of Pok Pok's Long Bean, Cucumber & Tomato Salad and Steamed Fish with Lime and Chile...

...to Jim's melt-in-your-mouth Taiwanese dish Three-Cup Chicken and Max's killer riff on Thai Pork Larb, subbing out pork for duck and adding shrimp chips for extra crunch...

And then there was my dinner offering of Fried Oyster Omelette, based on a recipe from the master of Singapore hawker cuisine, K. F. Seetoh...

We downed it all with a round of Kaffir Lime Leaf-infused Gin & Tonics, capping off dinner with homemade Coconut-Pandan Ice Cream made by yours truly.

Let me just say that at the meal's end, we weren't just sated, we were giddy with pleasure. (OK, maybe the G&T's helped a bit there too!)

There is no question: This experiment will have to be had again. Maybe next time, we'll try Sicilian cuisine or perhaps Indian fare. Open to ideas and recipe suggestions...

Summer of Ceviche

On scorching days, my fancy usually turns to oysters, ice-cold, lightly briny beauties splashed with tart shallot mignonette. This summer, oysters have been had, but a new seafood favorite has emerged as well -- ceviche.

Just a few weeks ago, I reveled in a bowl of Ecuadorian Shrimp Ceviche at Sunset Park's El Tesoro Ecuatoriano. Unlike any rendition I'd had before, this irresistible ceviche featured tender shrimp floating in a tomato-lime chilled soup, topped with a shower of fresh popcorn and fruity hot sauce.

I was enthralled. Two bites in, and I was officially hooked on ceviche -- and I was on the prowl for more.

Visiting Chimu in Williamsburg a week later with a gal pal, I insisted we order their Peruvian-style Ceviche Mixto. Replete with raw mussels, crab, shrimp, and delicate white fish, enlivened by lime and cilantro, the ceviche was divine.

And, returning to Billysburg this past 4th of July, I joined a few friends in Maison Premiere's enchanting back garden for bracing Sazeracs, live Dixieland jazz, and Sea Bream Ceviche. Pictured above, this shell-plated dish included hints of coconut milk, lime juice, sharp red onion, bright scallion and sweet mango. Not sure if it is an "old New Orleans recipe," but who the heck cares when it's this delicious.

Now, I'm intent on making my own ceviche. Lucky for me my Ecuadorian pal Emi was willing to part with her family recipe. She says that it is best consumed on an ungodly hot day as a brunch or lunch dish with a really cold beer. Sounds good to me!

I'm definitely going to make some soon. But, if you get to it before me, give me a shout and I'll head over with an icy six-pack of Coronas!

Emi's Ecuadorian Ceviche

1 lb of either large prawns or fish (mahi mahi or sea bass are the best)
4 large tomatoes
1 large yellow onion
1/2 can of tomato paste
8 limes
1/2 orange
2 TBSP mustard
black pepper
salt

Take each tomato and cut it in half. Grate one of the halves and chop up the other one. Do this for all 4 tomatoes. Add to a big bowl. Julienne the onion. Add to the tomato mix. Cut up the seafood. If it is fish, dice the fish, if it is the prawns, devein and shell them and then cut each of them in half lengthwise.

Put about a liter of water to boil in a pot. Once the water boils, blanche the seafood (dip it in the water until it becomes white). The fish should be blanched for about 30 seconds (don't overcook it!) and the prawns anywhere from 30 seconds to about a minute. Put the seafood in a bowl. Turn off the pot when you finish. DO NOT THROW OUT THE WATER.

Add the seafood to the tomato and onion mix. Add the 1/2 of tomato paste to the tomato-onion-seafood mix. Mix thoroughly.Squeeze the eight limes onto the mix. Mix thoroughly again. Ladle in about one or two cups of the water that was left over from blanching the seafood into the mix. Mix thoroughly again. Add salt & pepper to taste, as well as the mustard. Mix again. Squeeze the orange juice onto the mix. Mix thoroughly. Taste. Add limes, salt, pepper and/or mustard if needed.

It should be refreshing, but salty and slightly sweet (only slightly!). The lime flavor should be present but not predominant.Chill for about an hour or hour and a half. Serve.

Serve with sides of popcorn, corn nuts, and plantain chips (the thinner, salty kind) that can be added to taste by the people who will be doing the eating. It is customary to also have a few limes cut into quarters served with the ceviche in case people prefer their ceviche a little more on the sour side.

New Year's Curry

I'm woefully late on my New Year's post, but the truth of the matter is my New Year's Eve wasn't any major shakes. It involved a bagel and watching the last few episodes of "Game of Thrones" on-demand. (Now, don't get jealous of my crazy, New York, glam lifestyle!)

Still, I didn't feel the need to do anything special on New Year's Eve. I'd already had plenty of good times, good friends, good food and good drink a few nights prior.

That's the thing about a really good dinner party. It can carry you through a few weeks -- especially when the dinner party was really an all-day affair.

In this case, the affair began with my Spice Hunting pal Max. (Get your mind out of the gutter!) We had always wanted to cook together. (Once again, get your mind out of the gutter!!!) It was the time to make the dream a reality. We hit Chinatown with a vengeance and returned to my Brooklyn kitchen with a bevy of ingredients, including sesame seeds, supremely fresh fluke, green curry paste, freshly hacked chicken parts, frozen coconut milk, baby bok choy, fresh ginger, sesame seeds, serious soy sauce, rice cooking wine, stalks of lemongrass, kaffir lime leaves, and of course, this essential...

Okay. Now you can put your mind in the gutter! And while you're there, let me regale you with the dinner preparations...

*Max's rich and fragrant Chicken Curry with Eggplant and String Beans beginning a two-hour journey on my stove top...

*Baking up mixed nuts with melted butter, brown sugar, sea salt and Japanese Seven-Spice Powder for a perfect nibble with cocktails

*Slinging a sharp knife to finely dice the fluke with a bit of miso paste, sesame seeds, ginger and scallion, for a Japanese tartare that made a fish-hater swoon.

*Pouring decadent, deep chocolate ganache over a Chocolate-Orange Cake...

As you can surmise, the meal didn't suck. In fact, it was nothing short of fantastic.

Next on the docket with my Spice Hunting pal: a trip to Little Italy (or dare I hope, Arthur Avenue?) and a day filled with pasta-making and cucina Italiano.

Seriously. Who needs to blow it all out on New Year's Eve when you have the whole of 2012 to enjoy?

My 2nd Annual Faux Thanksgiving

Suddenly what is faux is what is real -- at least at Chez VittlesVamp. For the second year running, I have followed up my Philly Chinatown Thanksgiving a week or so later with a full-on turkey spread, surrounded by friends and enough food to feed a small army (okay, perhaps a large army!).

This time around, I got the turkey from Paisano's Meat Market on Smith and dry brined the bird for three-days straight a la Chef Judy Rodger's famous "Judy Bird." One taste of the bird's gloriously succulent flesh and I knew that the "Judy Bird" was justly famous.

But man does not live by turkey alone. At least not at my table!

There was a Butter Lettuce Salad with Radishes and Scallion Buttermilk Dressing, Haricot Verts Almondine, Stuffing with Cremini Mushrooms and Andouille Sausage...

...Homemade Gravy with Turkey Drippings, my friend Martha's Brussel Sprouts with Red Grapes, Toasted Walnuts and Yogurt...

...Cranberry, Quince and Apple Chutney, and -- compliments of a recipe in Garden & Gun -- Sweet Potato Casserole with Sorghum. Check out the deets here.

(Warning: Your rendition will never be as good as mine, because my sorghum came from a friend's farm in Stinking Creek, East Tennessee. Seriously. It is of the utmost importance to know your sorghum's terroir!)

And if that wasn't enough to send us off into a blissful food coma, there was dessert...

This gorgeous Pecan Pie, as well as Martha's apple beauty, were enhanced by the creamy goodness that is my pal Max's Scotch Vanilla Bean Ice Cream. If you want the scoop on said frozen confection, here's a link to Max's recipe up on Serious Eats.

Feeling full yet?

Now, if the links above to the sweet potato and ice cream recipes aren't enough for you, hold tight. One of my personal T-day recipes will coming your way shortly. Stay hungry!

Beauty, Thy Name Is Porchetta

My friend Dori recently graduated from culinary school. I know it was a tremendous slog, alongside a full-time job and being a full-time Mom. That said, having the pleasure of eating at her home last night, I can say without hesitation that the slog was worth it -- at least for me and my tastebuds.

The star of the show (besides Dori herself) was a dark brown, caramel crackling, hunk of porky love in the form of a succulent Sara Jenkins-inspired Porchetta. Pictured above, it was truly a thing of majesty, providing heaps of porcine pleasure unabated.

The rest of the spread was mighty fine as well...Tiny Latkes topped with fig jam and duck confit...Crostini slathered with bone marrow butter, slivers of radish and a sprinkling of sea salt...Farro Salad glossed in brown butter, served with butternut squash, cauliflower and goat cheese...

The bar was dutifully stocked as well, and her Blood & Honey Punch -- featuring bourbon, honey, blood orange juice and more -- was downed right quick.

All in all, I'm a little concerned.

Still no kitchen and I already feel like I need to get my culinary game on. How else can I continue to claim the title VittlesVamp? Once that kitchen is done -- please let the countertops come tomorrow! -- I'll be grabbing my whisk and game on!

Dori best come hungry.

Another Tripe Adventure

No sooner do I mention my fondness for tripe, when my chef-type pal Stan admits that he has always wanted to tackle tripe in the kitchen, but never had a dinner guest who would oblige his fascination with bovine stomach line.

What can I say? I'm very obliging.

Good thing too, since his hearty Roman-style rendition served over Parmesan-scented polenta was utterly delicious. And, with my baking an Olive Oil-Lemon Cake to bring up the rear, a well-rounded meal was had.

Needless to say, we both felt very well-rounded at the evening's end. Well, more round anyway. In fact, rather roly-poly.

Next time, I have to get obsessed with rice cakes. Plain rice cakes. Dry rice cakes. Much better for the waste line.

But then I won't be able to use the phrase "roly-poly" in the resulting posting. Hmmm...Tough call.

Tripe stew it is!

The Gelatin Conversation

Some discussions can only be had with a good friend. Preferably, a good friend from the Deep South.

Such was the conversation I had with my Arkansas born-and-bred pal Elisabeth, who graciously offered expert insights into the culinary delights of gelatin molds -- both savory and sweet. I wasn't going for Bill Cosby's Jell-o advice, but bona fide Dixieland wiggly, jiggly aspic intelligence.

The reason: A request for a Tomato Aspic at an upcoming Cajun-theme soiree.

The whole notion of it sounded daunting and nauseating at once.

Elisabeth concurred that the usual jellied specimen was a ketchup flavored mess. But, after a half-hour of discussing the merits and pitfalls of a series of Ambrosia and Cranberry gelatin ring mold recipes, among others, I now feel confident about forging ahead with a spicy Vamp-ified version of the classic Tomato Aspic.

I'll let you know how it turns out in a few weeks when I throw my Bayou bash. And, if it's as tasty as I hope, I may even share the recipe, wiggles, jiggles and all.