VittlesVamp

Gourmet Gifting

Twas the season. Cookie baking was mandatory and gift-giving was in motion.

When I am honest with myself, I know I am challenging person to buy for. I live in a small - but lovely - apartment, so "stuff" often ends up as clutter. I also don't need much that I don't already buy for myself. Plus, I am persnickety.

Not a good combo when my birthday and the holidays converge in the same month.

But this year, my friends did me a solid. Seriously great gifting!

A German baking book after I received my German citizenship in mid-December? Yes, please! (Already baked one humdinger of an apple cake from the tome pictured above!)

Recognizing that what I lack in space, I make up for in numerous dinner parties, I was gifted an expandable wooden cheese board with cheese knives hidden within. It folds into a quarter of its full size for easy storage. Yes!

Also knowing that I need to clean up after said dinner parties, another friend gave me a trio of tough kitchen sponges that offered the additional benefit of being sparkly. Functional and festive? Yes!

And, then there was the present that celebrated my long-lasting, deeply affectionate relationship with Sven - aka my dishwasher. That's right, I christened it Sven many many years ago, and he's never let me down since.

Now, a complete set of dish towels and pot holders emblazoned with the name "Sven" grace my kitchen. YAAAASSSS!

Spätzle, Rote Grütze & Why Umlauts Have Become Very Important To Me

First of all, I strongly recommend that you take a listen to my latest podcast interview for New Books Network. It is a chat with Luisa Weiss, who recently released a gorgeous cookbook devoted to classic German recipes and culinary traditions. Here is a link to the interview.

Now, to address the title of this post.

Yes, both spätzle (lovely, toothsome German noodles) and rote grütze (a springy red berry pudding) are mentioned during my discussion with Luisa Weiss.

But, why am I now saying that umlauts have an outsized importance to me?

In a couple of hours I am becoming German. I will get myself down to the German Consulate, near the UN, and partake in a naturalization ceremony. (Lederhosen is not required.)

Yup. I am going to be a dual citizen.

Does that mean you'll be reading about a German dinner party soon? Does this mean more trips to Berlin in the new year?

Ja und ja!

Hungarian & Eastern European Fare For A New Generation

I have been a fan of Chef Jeremy Salamon's modern takes on Hungarian, Eastern European and Jewish cuisine since he worked at The Eddy in the East Village. And, I have been lucky enough to dine at his Crown Heights restaurant Agi's Counter since it opened up a few years back, diving into dishes that range from Pickled Mackerel Toast to Caraway Shortbread Cookies.

So, no surprise that when I learned that he was coming out with a cookbook, I reached out for a podcast interview for the New Books Network.

Really enjoyed the conversation. In addition, I know I will really enjoy making some of the recipes at home. And, I am looking forward to returning to Agi's Counter and checking out his new upcoming restaurant in Red Hook, called Pitts. (Sure it'll be anything but!)

Take a listen to the podcast chat here.

Peru By Way Of Queens

Back in October I interviewed wine merchant–turned–archaeologist and art historian Robert C. Bradley, talking about his book "Eating Peru." Ever since, I have been daydreaming about a trip to Peru - not necessarily to visit Macchu Picchu or the gourmand hot spots in Lima, but to get a taste of the real Peru. Robert made the everyday sound exceptional - visiting coastal seafood shacks to dine on fish that had just been swimming in the ocean. And, from the sounds of it, there are lesser known archaeological sites that I should be checking out.

Will I get there this year? Not sure. Still in physical therapy, post-ankle surgery. But even in a cumbersome aircast, I was able to make it to Queens for a preview of some Peruvian delights - visiting Jora in Long Island City.

First up was a lipsmacking ceviche topped with kernels of choclo corn from the Andes and crunchy corn nuts, known as cancha.

Mind you, the fish hadn't been swimming just moments ago in the East River - alongside Jimmy Hoffa's remains, perhaps? - but that was okay by me. It was an undeniably gorgeous dish. And, continuing the coastal theme, we dove into Arroz con Mariscos that made us swoon...

That shrimp was a beauty, but damn if those rings of squid weren't perfectly tender, as were the scallops, clams and mussels.

We went to the red meat on the menu to finish things off right...

What, pray tell, is this? It is Lomo Saltado, an umami-packed dish if ever there was. Chunks of sirloin sauteed with onions and tomatoes in soy sauce, topped with a mound of French fries and finished off with a few leaves for greenery.

Did I mention that this is packed with umami?

Oh, mami!

Going to keep on keeping on with my daily exercises and physical therapy. I will get to Peru. That's a promise.

North Fork Vines

Had a great conversation with Richard Olsen-Harbich, the winemaker at Bedell Cellars. The chat was recorded for posterity on New Books Network, where I invited Olsen-Harbich to talk about his book Sun, Sea, Soil, Wine: Winemaking on the North Fork of Long Island and delve into the environmental elements that make the North Fork an idyllic location for great winemaking. He also provided expert insights into the impact of climate change, the natural wine trend, and the genetically modified plant debate. I also asked him for his views on restaurant wine programs, books for aspiring winemakers, and the best wineries to visit in the region.

Take a listen here.

Now, admittedly I have yet to be fully enamored by North Fork wines, but now I am tempted to break out a bottle or two and see if I can fall in love with local vines. I am up for the tasting!

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.

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.

My Parisian Pandemic - In Brooklyn (Merci Monsieur Lebovitz)

I was supposed to go to Paris late March. Supposed to go. Didn't go.

Perhaps that is why I discovered David Lebovitz's Instagram Live "Apero Hour" from Paris, a civilized and joyful respite from the pandemic, 12noon Eastern, Monday through Saturday.

Well before all this, I had been an admirer of Lebovitz. Earlier in his career he was a cook and pastry chef at Berkeley's Chez Panisse. He moved to Paris decades ago and has been writing about his experiences - glorious and exasperating and everything in-between - ever since. I had often cooked recipes from My Paris Kitchen and enjoyed reading his memoir-meets-cookbook called The Sweet Life in Paris, but it wasn't until I stumbled on his genius recipe for Almond Cake that I became an ardent fan. It's the bombdiggity! Just let one mere crumb of this dessert past your lips and you will instantly become a fan girl (or fan guy)!

His "Apero Hour" IG Lives began as a substitute for a book tour to promote his latest tome - Drinking French. The COVID-19 crisis had most of the world in lockdown, so instead of visiting bookstores to talk about the cocktails, apéritifs, spirits, and other drinks that are the cornerstone of French café and bar life, he took to Instagram. At 6pm Paris time he makes a drink from his Parisian kitchen - sometimes accompanied in-person by his utterly charming partner Romain. And, once in a while, he is joined remotely by a guest bartender, distiller, or another drinks-focused author, who could be located anywhere in the wilds of France or the deepest darkest depths of Brooklyn.

It has become appointment viewing for me.

As a result, I've purchased some new cocktail ingredients - including Plantation Stiggins' Fancy Pineapple Rum (who knew it was made by the French?). I have shaken and stirred a new range of drinks for sipping during Zoom happy hours and alike. I have made Lebovitz's Rosemary Gimlet, followed his recipes for making a Montparnasse, The White Lady, and a Daiquiri (using the aforementioned pineapple-infused rum - YUM!). I also tried my hand at drink recipes offered by his guests, including a stellar Margarita from Ivy Mix of Brooklyn's Leyenda and the bitter and brilliant Tunnel Cocktail from Franck Audoux, the owner of Cravan in Paris (snapshot of my rendition above.)

In addition, I connect with a makeshift community of sorts when I log on. Several of us "regulars" chime in and chatter with each other, as well as David, in an effort to make "Apero Hour" our own.

And, lest you think that I've solely been imbibing thanks to Mr. Lebovitz, I can attest to the fact that I have been trying more of his food recipes too. In fact, his Shallot Marmalade...

...is up there in genius, swoon-worthy territory. And, his "Apero Hour" featuring French cheeses, inspired me to buy a serious slice of Brie de Meaux to go alongside some of the marmalade.

Sure I will be exploring more of his recipes - and those he recommends - in the coming weeks. I have already added certain spots like the bar Combat and the Fédération Française de l'Apéritif to my Paris map for when I can finally return to the City of Lights. Until then, and for as long as he'll allow, I will be virtually visiting David Lebovitz's kitchen for my fix of France.

Merci, David Lebovitz! Merci!

Garden & Gun & Good Eating

Visitors to my Brooklyn apartment are typically treated to a healthy dose of hospitality. Often that comes with a shaken or stirred cocktail, nibbles aplenty, and once in a while it arrives with a flurry of coursed out dishes meant to tempt, soothe, and delight.

And, typically, new visitors to my home are not only struck by the hospitality at Chez Vamp, but are also taken by a collection of magazines on my coffee table -- a pile of Garden & Gun issues that sport cover photos of hunting dogs, Southern beach scenes, and mouthwatering food and drink from below the Mason-Dixon line.

What is a nice gal in New York City doing with a subscription to a magazine called -- of all things -- Garden & Gun?

Did you not just read the earlier sentence about the dogs, beaches, and food?!?

This is a magazine about the modern South -- but a bit mythologized and curated by design. From tales of roadtriping and partying from New Orleans-based author Julia Reed to an essay of a bad dog gone good by non-fiction writer S. C. Gwynne to thoughts on Mardi Gras and the importance of bees from literary legend and humorist Roy Blount Jr, the writing is top-notch.

Plus, a wealth of insights on Southern travel, books, music, and more.

And, then there are the photos. Lush. Sly. Transporting.

Oh, and did I mention the recipes?

More than once, the magazine has inspired me to whip up a bit of Dixie. Most recently, I tried my hand at making James Beard Award winning cookbook author Virginia Willis' cast-iron skillet Blueberry Cobbler (pictured above).

It was divine. Are you surprised?

I anticipate that my kitchen will be taking many a "trip down South" this summer, compliments of recipes and inspiration from Garden & Gun. If you're lucky, you'll get an invite to my table.

Word to the wise though: don't mock the mag. It might not be the hand that feeds you, but it's certainly feeding this home cook's imagination.