VittlesVamp

Deviled Eggs Are My Culinary Kryptonite

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.

France's Choice

Nope. Not talking about France's recent Presidential election.

I am talking about dessert.

As an American, the image above -- a perfectly made Paris-Brest from a dinner in Paris (yes, I went back yet again) -- epitomizes the notion of a French dessert. This wasn't just a notion though. This drop-dead gorgeous pastry rightly finished off a magnificent bistro supper at Chez Michel in the 10th Arrondissement.

But, dessert in France isn't always of a sweet nature. In fact, it is often crumbly and funky. Or sometimes it is smooth and buttery...

Yes, fromage. Add some good honey and toasted nuts and, well, hello! In France, cheese might as well be a religion. And, I think I would be happy praying to a perfectly ripe Saint Marcellin or Bleu d'Auvergne.

In this case, I did not make a choice when it came to closing out the meal. My dinner companion and I did both.

Both is a choice too though, isn't it?

Apero Hour Hits Paris

For those of you who aren't aware, not only did I fall down the pandemic rabbit hole of tuning in 6 days a week to watch cookbook author and former pastry chef David Lebovitz shake and stir up Instagram Live "Apero Hours" for several months - but I took it one step further. (Are you surprised? I think not.)

When Paris reopened from lockdown in late May 2020, David Lebovitz declared that he was putting an end to the regular "Apero Hour" series. I understood completely. But was still upset - not just about losing my daily fix of David himself, but because of the others that I had met virtually in the chat box.

Odd to think you can "meet" people in a chat box, but somehow we managed!

Well, when he declared that "Apero Hour" was coming to an end, I suddenly typed up an "Oh, no! We're going to need to set up an IG hub to keep this group together!"

I said it. Now I had to do it. And so, it was done.

I recruited two other "Apero Hour" regulars to join me: one from Portland, Oregon - Heidi, known as @UncommonMuse on Instagram, and the other from Olso, Norway - Judah, known as @StreetofTrees on IG. For 15 months, the three of us each posted one photo a week and a thought starter or such to keep the conversation going.

And so, it went.

We finally decided to have our own "Apero Hour Fans" handle come to a close in September 2021, vowing we'd start it up again whenever the three contributors were able to get together - in Paris.

Just a few weeks ago, we made that happen. The photo above is from our very first lunch all together at Les Rubis in the 2nd ARR. That's a Duck Heart Brochette if you're curious. It was delicious. But, much more importantly, Heidi, Judah and I felt like peas in a pod. In this case, the pod was the City of Lights. More specifically it was Sentier and the incredible foodie wonderland that is Rue Montorgueil...

and Rue du Nil...

Yes, there was pastry...

And, we even left the neighborhood a few times to imbibe...

Quite memorably, the above drinks were sipped at Sister Midnight. Other gorgeous cocktails were had at CopperBay, while bubbly Vouvray Brut was enjoyed at Le Bon Georges.

The pièce de résistance? It happened here...

A trip to Belleville to go to the much-lauded Combat bar. There, we raised a glass (okay, a couple of glasses!) with David Lebovitz and his husband Romain Pellas.

Yes, that's right. That's how we roll.

Tchin-tchin! And, considering the threat of variants still looms large, let me add a - Santé! - for good measure.

Mangiare e Bere a Roma Pt 2

In many ways I had two stays in Rome during my recent trip. First, I was the guest of my friend Tracy in Esquilino. Second, I absconded to a dreamy hotel - the Locarno - near Piazza del Popolo. Decorated in muted jewel tones with an air of the roaring twenties, the hotel made me feel transported. A perfectly made cappuccino in a sunny garden courtyard? That is a perfectly normal breakfast experience. Isabella Rossellini a few tables away? Par for the course at this magical spot.

The days whirled by with a mix of wandering Rome and working until dinnertime - conducting the latter from the Locarno's rooftop lounge.

Not too shabby, right?

And, yes, it is a perfect spot for a nibble. The kitchen wasn't serving upstairs one afternoon, so I took the opportunity to grab a Porchetta Sandwich for lunch and make a picnic of it, computer by my side.

Not a bad office lunch situation, right?

And, what did I do for a big finish? I nabbed a barstool at Il Marchese - a gorgeous bustling spot with a Michelin Bib accolade and an Amaro Bar with nearly 500 labels on offer. Needless to say, the cocktails were spot on...

So was the food - from a half portion of Carbonara to a luscious helping of Steak Tartare, dressed with the sunniest yellow egg yolks on the planet and thinly sliced, pink pickled onions...

And, for dessert? I did dip a spoon into a Pistachio Tiramisu, but the sweets after dessert were particularly sublime...

Così incredibile!

Mangiare e Bere a Roma Pt 1

So, that markets in Rome post was nice - but where is the rest?

I'm sorry to have made you wait. I promise it'll be worth it. Why? Because it was so damn good.

My first evening started with the clinking of glasses. The place? My friend Tracy led me to a spot for locals - Wine Art Di Tiziana Ciampetti E C.- where Tiziana herself presides over a minuscule shop bursting at the seams with bottles of wine. Makeshift tables and folding chairs take up the sidewalk by the store and Esquilino neighbors chatter, drink, and nibble away the evening. Tracy and I could have kept up with the crowd, but she had to run home for a late work event and I had to hightail it over to one of the hottest seats in town - a spot at a restaurant called Retrobottega.

Tracy had insisted that I go and embrace a whirlwind of elegant small plates accompanied by wine pairings. She was absolutely right. The tasting menu delivered a cavalcade of flavors and textures. Favorites included a dish of Sweetbreads with Cauliflower and a gorgeously lush helping of Tagliatelle with a Creamy Saffron-Chicken Ragu...

And, then there were the wines. Oh, yes...

That was a terrific way to cap off my arrival in Rome. And I still had five days to go! I filled them. I filled them with loads of chicories and other bitter greens...

I filled them with a second-hand shopping spree at Borghetto Flaminio Market. I also filled them with a visit to a seafood mecca known as Assunta Madre, where we dined on a sea creature that neither of us could identify...

I filled them with a trip to the "Brooklyn of Rome," a neighborhood called Testaccio, decked out with hipster boutiques and deceptively low-key exteriors to truly expensive apartment buildings. There was also lunch, a seafood lunch at La Torricella that included Tonnarelli with Shrimp and Zucchini...

There was more walking to follow. Thank goodness!

Needed to walk that pasta lunch off, so I could journey the next morning to the city's most beloved pastry stop - Esquilino's own Regoli Pasticceria...

Proof positive that this was the real deal? A real line in front of the place at 9am. A real long line. I waited for over 45 minutes before I was allowed through the door. It was worth it. So worth it. So good. So damn good.

I told you.

Dining Omicron-Style

It's all a bit internal debate. Do I feel safe enough to go indoors right now for a dinner or drink? I'm triple-vaxxed, but still...Numbers are starting to get better in New York City, but even when it was bad I categorically refused to lock myself away, instead bundling up to see friends out-of-doors whenever and wherever possible.

Holiday nibbles at a makeshift, sidewalk buffet outside a friend's ground floor apartment? I'm there!

A balmy 35 degree day, when I can grab a seat at Henry Public's front patio with a heater over head, tucking into brunch and downing a Two Cents Fancy cocktail that, unsurprisingly, felt very fancy (even while I was wearing my puffy coat)? I'm in!

Taking at-home Covid tests before a friend comes over to my apartment for a casual home-cooked dinner? Yes. And, the friend coming over tested negative as well. (Totally worth the trouble, when you find out that my version of a "casual" home-cooked dinner is typically at least three courses.)

Then, when I once again feel like letting someone else do the cooking, there is the question of whether or not it's even worth it to order something hot outside in the winter chill. Let's be honest: no matter the dangling heat lamp above, that lovely hot dish is going to turn ice cold in record time.

Low 30s, sitting out front at Clover Club? Soup and a cocktail sounded divine, but I suddenly imagined that soup turning into a popsicle right quick. Oysters were a much better choice...

And, how am I thinking about navigating things as the numbers appear to get better in the city?

Carefully. But, I'll be out and about -- layered up and ready!

My Winter Kitchen List

There is nothing like a really great restaurant meal to get me to do culinary cartwheels in my own kitchen. I often end up trying to recreate a dish. Sometimes I simply ride the inspiration into a delightful home-cooked meal.

Well, two brunches last weekend have definitely set me down a gastronomy rabbit hole (and, yes, rabbit might even be involved.)

First up, was Saturday brunch a Agi's Counter in Crown Heights, where the Eastern European fare was front and center. Hungarian pastry lined the countertop. Protected by glass panes, it made for an irresistible window shopping experience while I waited on line to place my brunch order. No surprise, a warm slice of Cinnamon Bread showered with sea salt was had. So was a swoon-worthy Caraway Shortbread Cookie. Savory followed in the form of an open-faced poached chicken sandwich with buttermilk and grapes that was swoon-worthy in its own right. And, then because brunch is about being excessive, we had a Hungarian Nosh Plate that included a buttery chicken liver mousse, 6-minute deviled eggs, housemade pickles, and more.

I loved everything that was served -- but all I could think about was "Why haven't I made Chicken Paprikash in ages?"

And, yes, thinking that homemade spaetzle are a must do too.

But then there was Sunday brunch. It was had at Lowerline near the Brooklyn Museum of Art. The place tasted much more like Bywater than Brooklyn. Take a look at this Crawfish Étouffée...

Yeah. Gumbo needs to be made. Perhaps Rabbit and Dumplings need to be rustled up as well. And, let's say "yes" to Bananas Foster.

Anyone interested in joining my table this winter?

Chicago's Galit

I just returned from the Windy City, where I ate very, very well. Evidence is provided here in the form of snapshots taken at a fantabulous dinner at Galit, an award-winning Israeli spot that seriously delivered. (Had no doubt, since my gourmet rambling pal Tatiana had secured the reservation!)

Above, spy the cloud-like Hummus with bits of brisket braised with carrots and cinnamon. Because that couldn't be nearly enough to start us off, a series of small plates followed, including a bowl of mouth puckering Pickled Vegetables...

Heirloom Tomatoes with wood-roasted okra, amba, and Persian lime...

A bowl of creamy Labneh topped with hyssop, sumac, and sesame, alongside bowl of ethereal Baba Ganoush, sprinkled with a torrent of chives...

Gloriously hot, puffy Pita arrived to help us sop it all up...

Next up, a plate of Roasted Beets with Black Garlic Tehina, showered with crispy bits of pumpernickel and dill fronds...

And, we also swooned over Iraqui Kubbeh Halab, which were similar to Italian Arancini rice balls -- in this case, bright saffron rice encasing stewed lamb with a sauce made of blitzed golden raisins and almonds...

Then, this gobsmacking dish arrived...

That flower-strewn beauty was half a Wood-Roasted Cabbage, stuffed with oyster mushrooms and saffron mujadara, surrounded by a deep green chermoula sauce. And, lest we forgot we were meat eaters, there was Smoked Turkey Shwarma with peach amba and carrots...

To finish it all off, White Chocolate and Pistachio Baklava with raspberries and orange water.

Yeah. I ate very, very well in Chicago.

Went To Venice Beach To Figure Out What I Was Missing

Several years ago I was gifted the cookbook from Venice Beach's Gjelina. I remember thumbing through the book and eyeing the gorgeous photos of veggies galore and pizzas a plenty.

Today, I had the opportunity to visit the spot for lunch. It was glorious -- from the Grilled Trumpet Mushrooms with Tarragon Butter, seen above, to the Grilled Pork Neck with Salsa Verde, seen below...

And, brilliantly bringing up the rear was a gorgeous dish of Grilled Peaches with Burrata, Prosciutto, Arugula, and Aged Balsamic...

Now, this was my kind of dessert!

The food was truly delicious.

So, why hadn't I ever cracked open the cookbook to actually test out some of the recipes at home?

Good question and I have a good answer.

Every single one of these dishes was made on a wood-burning grill.

I know you're shocked, but my Brooklyn apartment doesn't come equipped with one. It clearly was a major 'miss' in my kitchen renovation.

One consolation? Open flame isn't completely off the table. I was recently gifted a mini Butane torch. It won't do the job on the pork, but maybe Brûléed Peaches will be on the menu at the next dinner party.

Who Wants To Tartare?

It scares away a lot of people. Red meat alone is enough to put a good number off. Add "raw" to the equation and I most certainly lose a significant amount of the dining audience.

But, dang, if I don't enjoy a good Steak Tartare.

Had one not long ago in Raleigh at Crawford and Son - showered with fresh horseradish and served alongside a mound of potato chips. All in all, a winner. I definitely need to get back to Buvette in the West Village for their rendition.

It's been many years, since I made this gloriously rich dish in my own kitchen. Maybe it's time to tackle it again...But, considering anti-red meat and anti-raw sentiment, not sure who would be game to enjoy it with me.

Could it be you?

Unmitigated Decadence

I have zero control. I know Delta is out there, but I am drawn to restaurants nonetheless. I am fully vaxxed. Know that there are some slight risks -- but at this point I am all in.

I went to Philadelphia and took Mama Vamp (also vaxxed!) for a multicourse extravaganza at Friday, Saturday, Sunday, which included the stellar Beet Cappelletti with Chive and Nasturtium Honey. Eyes roll back in your head time!

Then I went to the deepest darkest corners of the West Village for dinner with a friend at the Austrian powerhouse restaurant Wallse, where we tucked into these Smoked Trout Planshinken with glee...

There have been meals out with foie gras, truffles, and seared scallops -- and then there was this genius Tuna Tartare with Fava Beans and Agretti at Prospect Park's LaLou...

And a trip to Raleigh-Durham afforded me the opportunity to visit Saltbox Seafood Joint for a gargantuan Grouper Roll with all the fixins...

...including some otherworldy Honeyed Hushpuppies. Those puppies were a problem.

Have I cooked? Rarely. I have been throwing together food rather than properly cooking. I feel a longing to be served. It's where I am at. I am owning it. And, trust me, I will be cooking full force again. Just need to strike a balance.

We'll see how I do on the balance beam...