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.

The Unsung Hero of the Pandemic: Pizza

Yes, sourdough took a lot of the limelight during the pandemic. But, there was a staple that helped us all make it through -- the humble pizza pie.

You know it's true.

For comfort at the height of the crisis, I'd buy a store-bought frozen pie and add toppings to make it a little special. Then there was the glory of a Stouffer's French Bread Pizza dinner with a bit of salad to pretend that I was being "healthy" in some respect. Eventually, I was able to order again from a real-deal pizza parlor. The delivery of a Hot Sausage and Brown Butter with Sage Pizza from F&F's in Carroll Gardens was particularly memorable. Soooo good!

And, now that we are starting to emerge from the pandemic, pizza hasn't lost its luster. Heck, when I was finally able to take a plane - you read right, A PLANE - and head out to Portland to see a friend, we ended up tucking into pizza. A trip to the St. John neighborhood meant grabbing a picnic table in a courtyard for cocktails from The Garrison and couple pies from Gracie Apizza (one of which is pictured above).

Pizza has a permanent place in my heart -- and it has staked claim on my waistline.

Maybe I'll try the whole sourdough thing some day. But, for now, I'll stick with pizza as my pandemic starch superhero.

A Coffee Trip

Travel is a non-starter. So, being enveloped by something outside of yourself while still remaining in the borough is a distinct pleasure.

Pleasure. That was the sensation after one sip of Mofawar -- rich coffee with cardamom and cream -- at Qahwah House in the heart of hipster Williamsburg.

Williamsburg? Yes. Yemen by way of Bedford Avenue. Quite the trip, indeed. Hands warmed by fragrant, cardamom-laced coffee on a makeshift patio, I was a bit transported.

Then I took a plastic fork and tucked into a warm slice of...

...Khailat Alnahi, a honeycomb-inspired sweet. Small, soft pull-apart rolls stuffed with buttery cheese and drizzled with honey.

Totally worth braving the cold and sitting off a busy street to nibble on the pastry and slowly sip the hot coffee.

A warm breeze from Yemen suddenly hit. (Or was that backdraft from the L subway line?)

I knew full well that it wasn't proper travel. It was a cup of coffee and a slice of cake. But, right now an improper trip to the Middle East is welcome nonetheless. On a magic carpet or via a cup of coffee? I'm not quibbling over the specifics.

Eating Out of Season

I am 110% about eating foods while they are in season. Asparagus and Ramps in April or May. Cherries in June. Peaches in July. But some seasonal designations are beyond me.

For example, lore has it that we should only be eating shellfish, particularly oysters, in months with the letter “R."

Ummm...I think it depends on the shellfish in question. Local oysters are harvested at different times of the year, but considering we fly many a shelled beauty across the country, I have slurped oysters throughout the year.

Clams definitely have a season, if we are talking about wild varieties. But, Stuffed Clams are a year-round indulgence. The platter above was had at Bostwick's front patio in East Hampton just a couple weeks ago. On the other hand, I ordered something else off the menu, which may be a bit more controversial...

Yes, a gorgeous Lobster Roll. For some reason this glorious sandwich is considered a gustatory hallmark of summer. Yet, I enjoyed this one in November. I enjoyed it fully, gleefully, and without guilt!

According to Maine-Lobster.com, "There is no special Maine lobster season for the hard-shell lobsters that are more commonly shipped out of state, since lobstering is done year-round in the waters off Maine. More lobsters are caught in the summer months than during the winter, but that is mainly because the demand is higher due to tourism, and because the working conditions are easier."

So, admonish me at your peril. There is no seasonality issue at play. Besides, it's a pandemic for goodness sakes! If I want a Lobster Roll in November, so be it. And, you know what? I might want another one in December. And, just to put it over the edge, I might wear white after Labor Day.

I'm such a rebel!

Hummus Is Where The Heart Is

Finally was able to get to Philadelphia and see Mama Vamp.

Did we celebrate? My mother made a special request - that I bring cocktail supplies to make her something special that we could sip together. I packed up a shaker, a jigger, and small bottles of St. Germaine and Applejack. Montparnasse cocktails were shaken and poured into good crystal coupes. We raised them, toasted to being in good health and lucky enough to be together.

One round and we were hungry. Very hungry. Some things don't change. Thank goodness!

It was a beautiful Saturday and Philadelphians were out-and-about, masked up, sitting outdoors at local cafes. Wait times for a table were upwards of a half-hour. Not surprised. We kept walking and then saw it - Dizengoff - Chef Michael Solomonov's Center City Hummuyisa. In other words - a trip to Tel Aviv without the flight.

Yes. This was lunch. Gorgeous, light, fluffy hummus. One platter topped with roasted cauliflower and pistachios, and another with roasted brisket, beefy in a rich tomato and onion sauce. Swiped the plates with freshly baked pitas and thick slices of Persian cucumbers.

Oh, yes.

It made me question why I haven't made Solomonov's hummus recipe as of late. The difference between the homemade stuff, using his recipe, and the stuff in the market? They aren't even close. A comparison isn't fair. Solomonov's hummus is revelatory. The secret ingredient? Ice water. Seriously. Ice water.

I may have been leaning on my "Meat and Greek" combo throughout the pandemic, but "Hummus and Friends" may be my next go-to. It'll make me think of Mama Vamp. And, I have a strange feeling that even if I start making the hummus at home, I'll be visiting Dizengoff again with my mom the next time I am in Philly.

Her face lit up tasting its creamy goodness. Maybe the company had something to do with the smile too - but that hummus sure didn't hurt!

Oyster Happy Hours Of Days Gone By?

Remember Oyster Happy Hours? I recall them all too fondly. I cannot tell you how much I have sorely missed inexpensive shellfish slurping and cocktailing with friends.

And just when I figured that Oyster Happy Hour wouldn't be on the rotation for a good long time, I stumbled upon a sign at the new Cardinal Mkt on Henry Street, not too far from my apartment. Was I seeing things or was this a chalkboard inviting patrons to an Oyster Happy Hour? It wasn't a mirage. It was a bonafide Oyster Happy Hour - one that was offered up in a makeshift patio out on the street, but a real deal Oyster Happy Hour nonetheless.

Dare I? I don't usually sit out front of restaurants these days. I usually keep my dining out to garden locations. But, there was no one else sitting on the patio. There wasn't much foot traffic on the street either. I dare!

One slurp and it was all sortsa like Proust's madeleine. The briny, boozy memories of Oyster Happy Hours of long ago came flooding back. Oh, yes! This was pleasure. This was joyful. This was just the fix I needed before the weather turns frigid cold and I start to want my oysters in chowder instead of on-the-half-shell.

Will I return for more? Most likely. In addition, I'm going to be getting shucking lessons soon. If we end up back in lockdown I think I had better be prepared. I will make my own Oyster Happy Hour, if need be!

Baby Got Back

Seeing diners flock to outdoor seating at restaurants in Brooklyn is wonderful and weird all at once. It's terrific that restaurants can start serving again. I'm glad that the city is making it possible by allowing for makeshift patios to be set in front of cafes, extending into the street.

Am I partaking?

Sort of. See that photo above of a cocktail? I enjoyed it at French Louie in Boerum Hill. But I did not sit out in front. That photos is from back - in their idyllic backyard garden.

Similarly, I paid call on Le Crocodile in Williamsburg and sat in their gorgeous patio/garden space, away from the street and close to this bottle of wine (recommended by the restaurant's ever-gracious wine director, Rafa)...

Oh, and I ate on both occasions as well. This Duck au Poivre from French Louie was incredible, perfectly seared...

And these Scallops at Le Crocodile - crudo-style - were lush and buttery, with a bright-tart, herby punch from a vinaigrette of Ginger, Parsley, and Meyer Lemon that made the dish irresistible...

Could I have enjoyed these meals in the dining area set out front? In ordinary times, sure. But, now? Too many Cov-idiots walking by. I'm all about the backyard gardens if I'm going to dine or drink out.

And with a setting like this...

...can you blame me?

P.S. If you are going out to dine, I strongly recommend tipping as much as possible!!!

So Nice, I Ate There Twice

Over the past several weeks, I have been spending time in Philadelphia. For the most part, food and drink have been low on the priority list when I hit the City of Brotherly Love. Juggling family chaos and work has been the priority. There has been an exception though. Well, two. The same exception made twice - at a new South Philadelphia restaurant called River Twice.

The dining room is a low-key affair with a modern design sensibility and a bit of Japanese flair. Members of the kitchen staff are on full display in an open kitchen - including James Beard-nominated Chef/Owner Randy Rucker - and all are gregarious, food-lovin', attentive gents. The food? Freakin' amazeballs!

Case in point: A humdinger of a bone-in strip steak, aged enough to give it a marvelous edge of funk and cooked to a perfect deep ruby medium-rare. It didn't need the homemade steak sauce that accompanied it, but who am I to tell anyone not to gild the lily? And, the glazed brassicas hearts alongside were unlike any other green that I've had before. I don't know what those boys put in the butter to create the "glaze," but I am thinking some form of umami black magic might be involved.

So impressed was I by that meal, that I felt inspired to return days later for brunch with Mama Vamp in tow.

Just take a look at how brunch started...

Yeah. With a Duxbury oyster the size of my head. Seriously. It was roasted and topped with uni butter and pickled mustard seeds. It totally did not suck. In fact, it was kinda genius. (Thanks for making this beauty for me, Chef de Partie James!)

And, then there was the off-menu - because I was trying keto this month and Chef Rucker took pity on me - brunch main dish that came my way...

Yup. Not the least bit special. Not the least bit OH MY FREAKIN' GOD THIS IS GOOD!

Heck, even Mama Vamp approved of River Twice and tough customers don't get much tougher than my mom.

So, in other words, if you are in Philadelphia or are in close proximity - or have an excuse to haul ass to Philadelphia - I strongly recommend you do so and pay call on River Twice before they get reviewed and you can't get in the door.

The South on a Plate

For some it is Pimento Cheese. For others it is Boiled Peanuts. And, then there are those that are partial to Fried Green Tomatoes.

All of those make for fine eats, but none of them can hold a candle to an expertly-cooked dish of Shrimp n' Grits. Mind you, we're talking "expertly-cooked," like the specimen above from Charleston's Marina Variety Store Restaurant - where Sweet Tea comes in giant plastic cups and Bloody Mary's come with a thick slab of bacon, just because.

Have yet to have great Shrimp n' Grits in New York City. And, that's a shame. Open to suggestions, if you have any that you want to send my way.

Foods of Summer

Is summer really summer if you didn't eat a Lobster Roll? I say no. This one is from Pilot, a lovely docked sailboat that serves as a restaurant and bar in Brooklyn Bridge Park. It was summer outfitted in a buttered roll.

If a bright yellow cob of sweet corn had been served alongside and ice cold slices of watermelon had been on deck for for dessert, it would have been summer trifecta bliss.

Those are my big three for summer. Toss in some gorgeous tomatoes and a nectarine or two for extra credit and I'm swooning.

What are your flavors of summer?

Fried Chicken Mania - A Trend I Can Get Behind

Fried chicken has finally done it. It's not only turned Rob Lowe and Reba McIntyre into Colonel Sanders, but it has become a go-to main dish item on fancy restaurant menus - and we are not just talking about in the South.

Case in point, consuming a platter of "everything lickin' good" fried chicken at Chef Thomas Keller's Napa restaurant Ad Hoc. Take a look at that platter of deep fried, poultry deliciousness above. Tell me you wouldn't forgo some foie gras for a serious taste of that!

The East coast is smitten as well. I was picking nubbins of crust off of the table after ravaging this beauty at Brooklyn's Freeks Mill...

Oh, then there is Korean fried chicken - a category all its own. In fact, it seems that the Korean fried chicken-chain Bonchon is nipping at KFC's heels - or, ahem, wings as it were.

Note to self: Must get to Atoboy in Manhattan before the summer is over.

Open to other fried chicken must-do suggestions too! Where do you go for your fave fried chicken fix?