VittlesVamp

The Gift of Meat

Any excuse to go Astoria's Muncan Food - Serbian butcher shop extraordinaire - is alright by me.

My latest excuse? A friend's birthday. What better gift to offer up than a selection of delicious Serbian meat products?

And, once I led my pal Allison into the meat-riffic shop, strewn with gorgeous smoked slabs of pork ribs, thick garlands of sausage and an abundance of house-cured salamis, she most certainly felt like the birthday princess she has always dreamed she could be on the glorious anniversary of her birth.

No need for a birthday hat or a cake when you can celebrate with warm, chewy nubs of pork cracklings. Then again, what party is complete without an array of bacon, from rolled paprika-style to pepper panceta? Guiding us through the meat maze (straight to the lamb salami) was Muncan's ever-knowing Zoran - or as I like to call him, "The Willy Wonka of Meat." He is more than a butcher: He is a Serbian meat master.

So, if your birthday is around the corner and you want to commemorate the occasion with some meaty magnificence, drop me a line. I'll be quick to catch the R to Steinway and meet up for a meat up. Heck, I'll even bring along a candle to stick in the Balkan cold-smoked pork loin.

Make a wish!

Chocolate & Bourbon Brooklyn-Style

Organic bean-to-bar chocolate factory meets premium Bourbon distillery.

I was deeply concerned that I'd have to plow my way though a sea of hipsters to check out Cacao Prieto in Red Hook, Brooklyn. Happily, there was ne'er a precisely groomed bushy beard or ironic tee-shirt in sight. Instead there was genius swoon-worthy chocolate...

...and equally brilliant barrels and bottles filled with Widow Jane Bourbon and Rye.

Not gonna tell you much more, because I think you should go yourself and take the full-on tour with tastings.

All I can say is that I'm craving another one of those Pistachio and Apricot 72% Dark Chocolate Bark bars, and I have a bottle of Widow Jane Malted Chocolate Bourbon Whiskey sitting on my bar, waiting for a friend and a couple of rocks glasses.

A Taste of Budapest

No one prepared me for a typical late October morning in Budapest -- bright skies, but blustery and cold.

That, my friends, is a glass of Unicum, Hungary's traditional herbal amaro liquer. My first morning in Budapest was an especially frigid one and I was quickly informed by natives that I would be remiss if I didn't partake in a shot before I started my day.

Start my day it did, packing a wallop and warming the body, while it scorched my throat.

Needless to say, I didn't start scouring stores for little gift bottles for friends back home. (You can thank me later!)

Other tastes of Hungary were more to my liking, including some sampling of the wares at the city's bustling Central Market. Smokey paprika-crusted pork sausage was a particular favorite, as was a dry, mild "Gypsy" salami.

I also tried the classic Hungarian fried bread known as Langos, capped with chopped garlic, soft cheese and a slathering of sour cream. (Not light, but pretty darn addictive.)

A visit to the "pickle lady" in the market's basement led me to sample vinegary, spicy pickled peppers, along with orange nubbins of pickled carrot and mouth-puckering pieces of pickled cauliflower.

A short stroll over to the Jewish Quarter offered up a much sweeter treat, cake from Rachel Raj -- who is quite literally the Rachael Ray of Hungary.

The cake in question was Flodni, a layered confection made with squares of pastry crust alternating between generous helpings of honeyed poppy seeds, walnut paste, plum jam and a filling of slivered apples. Not too sugary, it almost ventured into savory territory.

Other great tastes around town included a luscious Duck Burger at a neighborhood Hungarian wine bar, made even richer by a topping of seared duck liver; a mammoth Pork Knuckle, the caramel-tinged skin blistered and crackling, at a hip city bistro; and a latte piled high with whipped cream at the grandest cafe I'd ever seen...

Not too shabby, eh? But do notice that I went for coffee, not Unicum -- not to say I didn't drink in Budapest.

More about that later...

Get Your Fine Self Over to Shelsky's of Brooklyn

I'm so not kidding. See that photo up there? It's a photo of a New Catch Holland Herring from Shelsky's with all of the classic accoutrement, namely finely diced sweet onion and minced pickle.

This stuff isn't just good: it is fish butter.

Strike that.

It is fish butt-aaah. (Emphasis on the "butt" if you throw in too many bagels schmeared with Ben's Cream Cheese on the side, along with a dozen house-baked Chocolate Babka Muffins.)

And, if Shelsky's is out of the New Catch Holland Herring (it has a ridiculously small season), they have plenty of other herring to offer. I'm a bit leery of the Fiery Jamaican Jerk Herring, but the French Oak-Smoked Herring has been known to illicit oohs and aahs from yours truly.

Then there is their righteous Smoked Whitefish Salad, smoked salmon options that run the gamut from Irish Double-Cured Organic Salmon to House-Cured Szechuan Kung Pao Salmon to classic Belly Lox, and let's not forget faves like Sable, Fancy Lake Sturgeon and Bering Cisco.

And, if you're inept at piling all of these tasty trappings onto a bagel, they have experts there who can do it for you, with a hunger-inducing menu of sandwiches like the Fancy Pants, featuring the above-mentioned Fancy Lake Sturgeon, as well as House-Cured Gravlax, Ben’s Cream Cheese, Tomato and Red Onion served on a Bagel or Bialy.

Good stuff.

Strike that.

Great stuff.

A Strawberry That Tastes Like A Strawberry

It's amazing how easily I forget what a real strawberry tastes like. As Brooklyn's streets are piled high with slush and snow, I am completely satisfied with my supermarket berries from Chile. Red, uniform and slightly sweet, they are what pass as delicious when the wind chill is below 25 degrees.

Fast forward to spring and a visit to my neighborhood greenmarket, where local berries, bursting with juicy sweetness are lined up in basket after basket, waiting to be downed in various forms -- chopped and tossed into the buttery batter of a Honey Pound Cake, or cut into slivers for a sunny addition to a Baby Spinach Salad with Goat Cheese, or simply sliced and heaped in a bowl with a splash or two of good Balsamic vinegar.

For now, I will dive in and enjoy berries as they were intended. Yet, I know as the autumn returns, my tastebuds will forget -- a convenient amnesia of sorts -- until springtime rolls around again and the strawberries are ripe and ready.

The Other Other White Meat - Alligator

I've always considered myself an adventurous eater, but my dinner at The Explorers Club Annual Gala took my epicurean exploits to a whole other level. The evening opened up my palate to scorpions, goat brains, meal worms, maggots and other exotic nibbles. Truthfully though, it was the alligator that caught my eye and my taste buds.

I was a doubter at first, but I have to say that the alligators, pictured above in their 7-foot long glory, were downright delicious. Sort of a cross between eel and - you guessed it - chicken.

Keeping the gator momentum in play, a couple weeks back I was in Florida to visit Papa Vamp and spied some live alligators sunning themselves on nearby golf course.

Before I'd eaten one of those suckers, the sight of them would have made me dream of shoes and handbags. Now, I was simply thinking of dinner.

And, today I'm in New Orleans with Mama Vamp for a few days of food, drink and jazz -- and quite possibly, alligator. I have a reservation at Cochon for lunch later and I have to say that the kitchen's Fried Alligator with Chili Garlic Mayonnaise sounds awfully tempting.

Then again, I bet they could Cajun-up some maggots and they'd sound awfully tempting as well.

Then again, maybe not.

I'll stick with the alligator.

Don't Dis The Raisin

It's time to stand up for the wee raisin. All too often, baked goods are passed over when someone learns that they are dotted with raisins instead of chocolate chips or nuts. It's a real shame.

A prime example: The burnished and buttery Raisin Danish featured above was had at Maison Kayser in the Flatiron District. It was a beauty, studded with plump golden raisins. Wholly satisfying.

I think the real trick with raisins is in the plumping. Don't simply toss them into a recipe without giving them the love they need in advance. Let them steep in hot water or, better yet, some heated rum, bourbon or vino. Once they are ever-so-slightly reconstituted, they offer a sweet luscious addition to cakes, pies, muffins and more.

And, if you really can't bear to give raisins the old college try, maybe you should attempt to embrace their kissing cousin: the dried currant. These tiny morsels, also in need of a bit of rehydrating affection, aren't just ideal for scones, but play well in savory dishes too. In fact, I'm planning a Thanksgiving stuffing that includes these tart berries alongside sourdough bread, scallions, garlic and toasted pine nuts.

I don't know how many readers I'll really convince with this missive. But, I can assure you that you are missing out if you choose to reject the glory of the raisin.

Well, guess that leaves more Raisin Danish, Raisin Oatmeal Cookies, Currant Scones, and alike for me. And, I'll probably get to actually have some T-day stuffing leftovers for a change too!

Not Just Cigarette Iconography Anymore: Camel Milk Chocolate

So, my archaeologically-inclined pal Kristin went to Oman on an expedition and decided to bring me back a treat from the Middle East. Some Turkish Delight, perhaps? Nah. That's too common place. Kristin opted for something much more exotic -- Camel Milk Chocolate.

My first thought as she handed me the bar was that "Camel" was simply the name of the brand, not unlike the popular cigarettes.

That wasn't the case.

Camel milk is real. And, apparently camel milk contains five times more vitamin C than cow milk, less fat, less lactose and more insulin.

Who knew?

Well, Middle Easterners have known this for centuries, but I guess I'm more than a bit late to the game.

Late or not, I was intrigued. But, how would it taste?

All in all, it was delicious. There was something hauntingly rich and robust about the bar. I could hardly resist another bite, and another, and another.

Will camel milk chocolate be taking the U.S. by storm soon? I hope so. This would be a "desert storm" -- or better yet "dessert storm" -- I could get behind.

Turkish Delight in Astoria

Cronuts - the croissant-meets-donut hybrid from Dominique Ansel's Soho bakery - have been getting more than their fair share of attention from pastry lovers as of late. That's all well and good, if you can get on line early enough to snag one of the coveted treats.

However, I am here today to tell those dessert fiends who are not early risers to grab their MetroCards, leave Spring Street far behind, and hit the wilds of Astoria, Queens to experience a sweet revelation - in the form of a visit to Güllüoglu Baklava & Cafe.

This Turkish gem is brimming with flaky baklava and pastry in a myriad of shapes, sizes and flavors. It's enough to make a girl swoon in sweet anticipation of the first bite, and the second, and the third...

There is Cevizli Baklava stuffed with walnuts, Fistikli Baklava filled with bright green pistachios, and Ozel Baklava which is double stuffed with pistachios. And, did I mention the Sekerpare semolina cookies, Acibadem almond cookies, and the squares of Turkish bread pudding, called Ekmek Kadayifi? If that's not enough, how about Turkish clotted cream, known as Kaymak, and rose-flavored Gullu Lokum candy? My favorite, pictured above, are the bakery's Visneli Baklava, packed with sour cherries.

And, if you can't handle going to Queens for your sweet fix, you'll be pleased to know that Güllüoglu also has outposts in Midtown Manhattan, Brighton Beach and even Cliffside, New Jersey. You'll have to wait a long while before Cronuts get that kind of metro-area distribution!

There's Something About Caviar

It's decadence. Spoonfuls of decadence. And, sometimes that is just what I need to perk me up when I'm blue.

My pal Jim understood full well, when last night he graciously opened up a jar of deep black, brackish beauties, along with some creme fraiche. Slathered atop water crackers, it was bliss.

Same can be said for a dinner of eggs, cooked low and slow to soft scrambled, bright yellow perfection, adorned with a dollop of sour cream and a generous smattering of caviar, then showered with freshly snipped chives. Supper of the Gods.

I'm sure you're wondering how exactly I can afford to indulge in caviar with such abandon. Did I win Lotto? Nope. But, lucky for me, Jim works for a caviar importer.

What can I say? It's good to know people in all the right places.

I'm hoping he gets a truffle client next!