VittlesVamp

Holy Food

Had one of the most engaging chats of my culinary-centric life with Christina Ward, the exceptionally eloquent author of a book entitled "Holy Food: How Cults, Communes and Religious Movements Influenced What We Eat." The conversation was recorded for posterity as a podcast on New Books Network. Feel free to listen here.

Of course, her references to foodstuffs influenced by Jewish culture will likely hit different now. Even with hindsight, I am unable to say anything profound, tying those bits to the current horrors. I can offer nothing more than what was provided in the late September back-and-forth.

Still, tonight I am making Hummus and Jerusalem Grill for a friend. Not sure what it signifies beyond a deep attachment to my culture, my people -- and a desire to revel in the flavors that allow me to embrace that.

Christina Wards' book talks about how religion in many permutations can influence how we eat and how we restrict ourselves, the reasons that what's on the menu can play a key role in proselytizing and celebrating whatever spirituality speaks to you. It's a great read. It was a great conversation.

I am just going to leave it at that.

Easy Peasy Pasta

Despite the title of the post, this pasta recipe doesn't include peas. But it could.

I happened upon this recipe by Chef Jonathan Benno in the Wall Street Journal. Very simple - and very delicious. I immediately started adding things to make it my own. My go-to version includes a tin of lightly smoked mackerel or sardines and some toasted pinenuts atop for some nutty goodness and crunch.

You should feel free to substitute both. Have some leftover rotisserie chicken? Chop that up and add it instead of the tinned fish. Have some slivered almonds or panko bread crumbs? Sprinkle them on top and forgo the pinenuts.

As implied earlier, add-ins are welcome. Think steamed broccoli florets, slivers of roasted red peppers, some halved cherry tomatoes, a handful of spinach leaves - and, yes, even a fistful of peas from the freezer.

Pasta Facile
(Serves 4)

1 pound linguine
1 can of tinned fish such as mackerel or sardines
⅓ cup olive oil
5 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
3 tablespoons butter
6 tablespoons minced parsley
1½ teaspoons red chile flakes
6 tablespoons minced parsley
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons pine nuts, toasted
Kosher salt

Fill a large pot with salted water, set over high heat and bring to a rolling boil. Add linguine and cook until almost al dente. Drain pasta, reserving 1 cup cooking water.

Set a large pan over low heat and swirl in olive oil, garlic and chile flakes. Gently heat oil until garlic is aromatic but takes on no color, about 1 minute. Add canned fish. Increase heat to high and add drained pasta, butter and half the reserved cooking water. Quickly toss pasta without stopping until sauce emulsifies, thickens and coats noodles, 1-2 minutes. If necessary, add splashes of remaining cooking water to stretch sauce until it looks creamy and completely coats the noodles.

Off heat, toss in half the parsley, half the lemon zest and half the juice. Season with salt and more juice to taste. Serve with toasted pine nuts and remaining parsley and grated lemon zest scattered over top.

Canceling Cookbooks?

A recent conversation got me to thinking.

It was an innocent enough exchange. Was talking to a friend about one of the cookbooks that I featured during a podcast interview - "Ed Mitchell's Barbeque." I waxed on about how I appreciated both the recipes and the insightful headnotes, as well as the fire-building science and lessons in Southern foodways history.

And, then he asked me a follow-up: What other cookbooks would you recommend?

I immediately mentioned Samin Nosrat's "Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat." It is a go-to on several fronts; a book that celebrates and educates all at once.

I also cited the "Gjelina" cookboook from Travis Lett, explaining that I regularly tap the Condiments section, but avoid the majority of the recipes since most require a wood-burning oven or grill. (Shocker - I have neither in my Brooklyn apartment.)

That was the end of the chat. But, I was left with the gnawing sense that I hadn't been 100% honest.

While I definitely use those two cookbooks a great deal, it's actually a book called "Molto Gusto" that I have turned to time and time again. Many of its pages are graced by ingredient splatter. That's the sign.

The problem?

The book is a collection of recipes from Mario Batali's now-shuttered Otto Enoteca Pizzeria. I used to frequent the restaurant bar, adoring the menu's Fregula with Corn and Cauliflower alla Siciliana, the wafer-thin Vongole Pizza, and its genius Olive Oil Gelato. The bartenders would often pour me a glass of Prosecco before I'd even shimmied my way onto a stool.

"Molto Gusto" has recipes that bring me back to that bar. They are flavorful and thoughtful. I have never had one of the recipes let me down. They are that good.

But what to do about the cookbook's author?

To put it nicely: Mario Batali has fallen from grace. To be blunt: Mario Batali has been revealed to be a vile sexual predator. While one court may have found him not guilty, the once iconic superstar chef has been very much canceled.

Does that mean that "Molto Gusto" needs to be canceled too?

I have been wrestling with that question. My answer: While I do not want to endorse Batali, I can't help but think that it is possible to separate the recipes from the man. And to make the decision even a bit easier to swallow, Mark Ladner is a co-author, and the dessert recipes come from a brilliant female pastry chef, Meredith Kurtzman, rather than Batali.

So, ask me again. What cookbooks would you recommend?

"Molto Gusto" will be among them.

From Pastrami To Crackling Pork Skin

Have a couple of new podcast interviews to share from my work with New Books Network.

Absolutely adored chatting with Author/Illustrator Ben Nadler about his new book "The Jewish Del: The Illustrated Guide to the Chosen Food." We covered a lot of Judaic ground in this discussion, hitting upon topics that range from the differences between pastrami, corned beef, and Montreal smoked beef to favorite bagel sandwiches to the glories of the black-and-white cookie to genesis of all things Kosher.

If you enjoy any of these things - and are even up for talk of eating tongue and stuffed derma - I urge you to take a listen.

And, I was lucky enough to speak with Ryan Mitchell, one of the authors of "Ed Mitchell's Barbeque" which shares the story of his father's rise to pitmaster legend. Ryan is a renowned pitmaster in his own right, and we dove into complex history of North Carolina whole-hog barbeque - a method passed down through generations over the course of 125 years and hearkens back even further than that, to his ancestors who were plantation sharecroppers and, before that, enslaved.

We also chatted about the importance of backyard brisket as a competitive sport, why deviled eggs make for genius culinary canvasses, and the perfect menu and playlist for a pig pickin'.

Listen to the interview here.

Christmas In July

I just came back from a few weeks in Philadelphia and in addition to grabbing a coveted table at the OG location of Laser Wolf, I was lucky enough to snag a reservation with friends at South Philly's River Twice during their weeklong "Christmas in July" dinner series.

Christmas in July?

Does that mean Egg Nog, Roasted Goose and Fruitcake in 90 degree weather? Thankfully, not.

It is a series of evenings in which River Twice's celebrated Chef and Owner Randy Rucker pairs up with other local Philly-area chefs to create incredible one-night-only dinners. The evening I attended, he teamed up with Chef Alex Kemp of one of the city's newest hot spots, My Loup.

The 7-course dinner was nothing less than stupendous. (Yes, I said stupendous. I could have said un-freakin-believable, but this was an elegant repast. I felt the use of a thesaurus was in order!)

First up was a sweet Raw Scallop with Tomato Water, Finger Lime, Verbena Oil, Preserved Ground Cherries and Currants. Snapshot of the glorious crudo is above.

Below, is a photo of the wholly moan-worthy second course - Beef Tartare with Fried Oysters and Romano Beans...

It took "surf and turf" to another level.

Next up was Heirloom Corn Grits with Miso-Mustard Smoked Maine Unagi and Summer Truffle...

Yaaaassssss!

And, because good, fresh corn is plentiful, that dish was followed by Skate Cheeks with Corn, Tomato and Basil...

That sauce!

Maine returned to East Passyunk with a piece of seared Wild Maine Halibut with Lightly Dried Tomatoes, Sea Beans, Kombu Butter and Golden Ossetra Caviar...

A little caviar is always a fine idea. Yup!

And, for the final savory course, the twosome of Chefs Rucker and Kemp delivered big time...

Braised Rabbit with Foie Gras, Carrots and Egg Noodles.

Simply using my words will never do this dish justice. Instead, imagine a wide smile and my eyes rolling back into my head.

Mmmmmmmmmm...

But then there was one more course before we set course back home to dream of sugarplums (or in my case, that Braised Rabbit).

Corn took the stage again with a Blueberry and Corn Tart...

A few bites in and that dinner was tied up with an ever-so-tasty bow.

Needless to say, I am ready to book a res for next year's "Christmas in July." It might just be my new favorite holiday season!

Imported from Philadelphia

The idea that Philadelphia is a force on the New York restaurant scene is funny to me. Then again, not so much.

I mean, Friday Saturday Sunday just captured the Best Restaurant in America nod from The James Beard Awards.

And, recently hitting Chef Michael Solomonov's Brooklyn outpost of Kfar, I was easily convinced that hyper-critical New York diners would fall in love with his modern Israeli menus.

Just look at that gorgeous bowl of creamy Hummus topped with a cascade of Crispy Mushrooms. Take a gander at that fresh-out-of-the-oven pita.

Thinking about making a reservation?

Take a long look at the snapshot below and you'll think no longer.

That's a Flintstone-sized Bone-In Short Rib with Amba and Passionfruit, served up with Braised Cabbage in a Tomato Amba.

Need to apologize to my pescatarian and vegetarian friends for that photo. Suggest that they don't scroll further, lest they see...

That.

In Philly now and paid call on Solomonov's Laser Wolf restaurant in the Fishtown neighborhood. It is impossible to get into the Williamsburg branch, unless you want a 10:30pm table. I felt triumphant scoring a 7:45pm res on a Monday night at the original location.

Yes, that Bone-In Short Rib should look familiar. Yes, it was large enough to be served at Fred Flintstone's table. And, just to make sure that there was enough meat on hand, we had two skewers of Koobideh, made of ground lamb and chicken.

By the way, did I mention the platter of 10 Salatim that landed on table before the meat even arrived? Cucumbers with Harissa, Moroccan Carrots, Babaganoush, Lebanese Potato Salad - need I go on?

Yeah. I can see why this is a hot ticket spot in New York.

What will be imported from Philadelphia next? I look forward to finding out.

My Pasta Obsession

Fusilli was so last year. Rigatoni? Fine, but not getting me all that excited. How about Penne? What can I say? It's sort of commonplace.

A new pasta shape has caught my fancy. And, you know how I like my fancy struck!

It's called Reginetti. They are gorgeous ribbons with curlicue edges, cut into bite-sized, ruffled pieces.

Above, I served them in a White Ragu made with veal, guanciale and marjoram.

Below, they are enveloped in a Creamy Mushroom Ragu.

If Italy Magazine is to be believed, there are 350 pasta shapes in the Italian food canon. Will I find another shape that sets me aflutter? With 350 to choose from, I would imagine so. That said, right now I am seriously enjoying my infatuation with Reginetti. And, so are the guests at my table, if I do say so myself!

Great Expectations

There was a time during the height of the pandemic that a piece of toast made by someone other than yourself was an unmitigated pleasure. We yearned to go back to restaurants to feel some semblance of normalcy -- and dare I say, even experience something celebratory.

The pandemic is behind us. I have eaten many a meal at a restaurant since. And, yet, there is a bit of "pandemic-era-esque" guilt that creeps in these days if I am unhappy with a restaurant meal.

Case in point: above is a snapshot of a beautifully plated Red Shrimp Crudo at Fradei, a restaurant in Ft.Greene that has won rave reviews from critics. I had tried many a time to nab a coveted reservation. I finally did.

Entering the dining room with a friend, we immediately enjoyed the low-key vibe.

The menu looked fantastic.

Looks were deceiving.

That crudo above? It was a salt lick. Red shrimp is beautifully sweet and is known for having a texture more like lobster or scallops. None of that was able to shine through the brine. Other dishes were just as dismal.

In fact, my dining companion and I took one small bite each of our shared main of Nettle Dumplings and spit it out into our napkins.

The waitress didn't even inquire about our satisfaction when she took away the full plate and handed us the bill - a mighty bill.

We paid and felt the need for something to delight. Without hesitation, we headed over to Dick & Jane's for a well-made cocktail.

As we imbibed, I started to feel bad that I didn't like our dinner at Fradei. Then I took a sharp turn and got ticked that the food was so poorly executed and the bill so high. Then I took a sharp turn again and returned to feeling guilty, thinking about how I might have been so grateful for that same-said dinner to be served to me at the height of Covid.

Hmmmm...

Frankly, menu prices since Covid have skyrocketed for various reasons. Admittedly, my expectations have risen somewhat in accordance to the new price of going out. But, am I really more persnickety than I used to be?

Maybe not. In truth, I would have preferred a diner omelette that reveled in being a diner omelette -- and a diner omelette has gone up in price as well.

Perhaps I am just as persnickety as I used to be. And, perhaps the kitchen at Fradei was simply having a bad night. I can blame my unhappiness at dinner there on my great expectations, if I like. But, what I most certainly expect at this point is that I won't be returning to Fradei. Besides, that diner omelette is sounding pretty darn good to me right about now.

Off-Site Down East

That is quite the view, huh? Pretty idyllic?

What could possibly make this vista off of the coast of Maine even more picturesque? Hmmm...

Yowsa! And, this fine readers, was the first meal of a company off-site in Maine. This perfect scene - and glorious Lobster Roll - was had at the Bite Into Maine food truck in Cape Elizabeth's Fort Williams Park, a stone's throw from our final destination of Portland.

Was more seafood part of the weeklong stay? Hellz-to-the-yes!

Think briny oysters, tasting like the saltwater from whence they came...

Think beer too, with Portland chock full of breweries making funky farmhouse ales and saisons and sours aplenty. Of course there was work to be done, so beer wasn't a daytime thing. But, even more seafood was had at all hours, whenever available. Case in point...

...Deviled Eggs with House Smoked Mussels served during a working lunch at Terlingua.

To be honest, nothing ever really topped that first Lobster Roll.

That said, I strongly believe we didn't hit enough seafood spots in and around Portland to be sure that there isn't a better shellfish option in town.

Clearly, will need another off-site Down East very, very soon. My work there is far from done!

Montreal Off The Map

I am a planner - especially when it comes to travel. No, I'm not scheduling my days when I am traveling. I just like to be prepared. Very prepared.

I make maps - Google Maps to be precise. Months before a trip I start researching everything from top restaurants to Mom & Pop shops to art galleries to local coffee spots to the closest emergency care, and lay them all on a map of the area. It is my way of learning about a place, sort of kicking off a trip, before I get my feet firmly planted there. And, yes, I do make a few plans off of my maps - mostly restaurant reservations. (Shocker!)

Needless to say, a long weekend with a friend in Montreal called for a map and reservations. That said, we thought we'd get there Thursday night and simply grab dinner at our hotel.

We needed to think again.

Stepping into the hotel lobby, our ears were accosted with thundering THUMPA-THUMPA electronica coming from the restaurant and bar. It was a scene. Way too loud and way too much.

I quickly tried to consider other options on the map, realizing that the restaurants I'd identified were probably fully booked. Suddenly, I remembered a spot that had sounded interested, but hadn't made it onto the map. Why? It was Italian. Why travel to Quebec for Italian? Still, the restaurant had sounded fun - and adult. No THUMPA-THUMPA. I asked the concierge (in a louder than usual conversation to be heard above the din) and he agreed that it was a good pick. He made a reservation for us.

The restaurant was called Gia Vin & Grill. It was off-the-beaten path, off to the side by a Home Depot. Getting out of the car in the fairly desolate area, I questioned the choice. One step inside though, and I questioned no longer. It was a fantastically warm and bustling warehouse space. The elegant marble bar at the entrance had a long rectangular well filled with ice and bottles of wine, natural wine. We sidled up as we waited for our table and within minutes we were talking to Larry Fiset, sommelier and partner, who not only directed us to some incredible wine, but also made sure we would be ordering the "must-haves" on the menu. When conversation turned to the culinary world at-large, I mentioned by podcast, interviewing cookbook authors. Larry's eyes lit up. I had to meet another of Gia's owners, Ryan Gray - who just happened to be having a book hitting shelves in a few weeks. Greetings were had, a podcast interview was discussed, conversation continued to flow and so did the wine.

Then we were taken to our table and the "must haves" began to show up...

It was the end of Snow Crab season in Quebec. This was unlike any kind of sweet meat crab I have ever had the privilege of eating. Heaven. Crustacean heaven.

The rest of the meal was just as brilliant - from Morel Mushrooms and Peas in a rich Spring Broth to Tagliatelle with Veal Bolognese.

People need to start visiting Quebec for the Italian food!

And, then Larry sat down with us. Where else were we planning to dine when we were in town? He approved of one pick, but less the other - and insisted that we let him text a friend at a restaurant we needed to try. It is a small spot, but he would try to wrangle us a reservation. Minutes later he returned with a wide smile, letting us know that we had a 9pm reservation on Saturday at Salle Climatisée. We smiled wide in return. In truth, I think we were smiling wide throughout dinner and even on the drive back to the hotel.

On Saturday we headed into the restaurant and were struck by the compact dining room, low-key vibe and warm welcome from the owner-sommelier that Larry had connected us with. We were seated at the counter overlooking the minuscule kitchen with chefs working like consummate jugglers, making the space work for them as they sauteed, fried, seared, and plated.

Yay! Dinner and a show!

And, then there was the wine. Such good wine. A white from Umbria - Collecapretta Buscaia - was particularly gorgeous, combining citrus with a floral nose and a brackish finish. It was a great accompaniment to the market-driven fare that followed...

Oh, yes! Local Halibut with an Herb-Pernod Sauce and delicately smoked New Potatoes.

Let me say yes again - this time for the Chicken...

This beauty was served with Morels and Radishes.

Dessert was a Sticky Pudding that had us humming with pleasure as we exited - so damn glad for the hotel lobby's obnoxious THUMPA-THUMPA and where it led us.

So, have I decided to skip the whole Google Maps rigamarole for future travels? Nope. But, I will be looking forward to going off-map to see what adventures and tastes await.