Bah humbug!

Lord, have mercy, it's hot! You can't go two blocks without wishing you were home in from of the air conditioner. I walk out the door and I think it's not so bad. After five minutes I'm reeling off the sidewalk into a nice air-conditioned cab not caring how much it costs as long as I get to where I'm going quickly or at least efficiently. It's hard to cook in this weather. I had good intentions yesterday as I headed toward our local Sunday market that has become a neighborhood fixture over the last few years. It's right behind the Museum of Natural History, having just moved from a vacant lot across the street that's now a flea market. It's a lively place that seems to be growing and the cadre of purveyors is constantly improving. Some folks from the eastern end of Long Island bring in good seafood and there is one guy who sells great chicken. I usually buy half a bird and roast it in a fairly hot oven for only 45 minutes or so. It's very tasty but a little tough.(I'd rather have a tough bird with flavor than a tender one that has the texture of a limp washrag so I'm not complaining). Of course, the fruits and vegetables from surrounding farms are very good and this time of year that's especially true. All this is going through my mind as I bounce out the door around noon, old shopping bag in hand like a good consumer who doesn't want to be wasteful. I'm on the first step out the building when the heat slaps me in the face like a provoked lover. On the second step I'm starting to re-think my plan. By the time I'm out on the sidewalk I know that I'm wimping out. No way am I going to walk there today. It's just too hot. I hail a cab as soon as I can and head for Citarella where I buy a rotisserie chicken and some cold salads that should see the household through the next couple of days. I promise myself this won't be a summer routine and that next week I'll shop, cook and turn the oven on no matter what the temperature. For today, however, I'm indulging. It's the Fourth of July and I'm not in the Hamptons or headed off on some adventure overseas so THERE. Bah humbug in July!

This little piggie went to market...

Lord, have mercy it's been hot! Today's better but yesterday and the day before were pretty awful. Heat is oppressive anywhere you live but I always imagine it to be worse in the city. My friend, Fran, lives in North Georgia where she settled after living for over twenty years in a small walk-up apartment on 11th St. in Greenwich Village. I'm always envious of her country lifestyle. I was complaining about the heat to her just yesterday but didn't get much sympathy. This week she's taking care of a neighbor's brood of piglets while the neighbor is away and she say's it's warm there, too. The little pigs nibble her toes, she says, and squeal like crazy when she approaches with her pail of whatever it is she feeds them. She says she's giving up eating pork. I told her to not rush into that decision because she might not feel that way once her duties are done but she's headstrong. She thinks that the heat is worse in New York because concrete holds it in. Not sure that's true but starting this time every year, I ache for the first cool days of autumn. That being said, I do love summer food. Tomatoes, corn, basil, summer squash, zucchini, berries, melon, plums, apricots---there is great fare to be had this time of year and our farmer's market at Union Square is the place to find it. I'll be heading down there early tomorrow to see what's on hand. Maybe I'll take some photos to send Fran so she'll remember that Manhattan is more than concrete and glass. And I'll pick up some bacon, too, but I won't tell Fran!

The Real Thing

My father used to say that milk was "for cows and babies." I don't drink a lot of milk but about 6 months ago I started having cereal for breakfast. I make a "salad" that includes flax seeds, bran and other healthy elements as well as something crunchy like toasted oats. It makes me feel virtuous because I've given up my toast with jam. Last week I had a revelation. Because of some recipe-testing I had to do, I had a quart of real milk and after years of blue-tinged thin non-fat or low-fat milk, I'd forgotten how good the real thing is. It was rich, creamy and so substantial. Like many others, I buy the kind of skim milk that's been enriched with a thickener to make it more palatable and it's not bad. But it doesn't match the taste and texture of the real thing. Milk reminds me of Madame Milbert. When I lived in France, I was lucky enough to spend some time in a lovely chateau in the northern part of Burgundy. It belonged to Anne Willan, the founder and owner of La Varenne, the cooking school in Paris. It's a long story but it was sort of my second home for a while and I loved it. Two very special people took care of the place, Monsieur and Madame Milbert. On most Saturdays they'd go to the local market and return with a bottle of raw milk. Madame Milbert would take a barely washed out dark green wine bottle to a local neighbor who'd fill it with it milk straight from the cow. Oh how I dreaded it when she'd present me with that nasty bottle! She was happy to be giving me what she thought was a treat but for this boy who'd only ever known the white stuff from grocery stores, it was a primal taste that I found repulsive. Of course, I'd have to drink it like I loved it, but inside I was dying. I'm not particularly squeamish by nature --- I love blood sausage, tripe, pigs' ears and trotters and most dairy products including acidic plain yogurt and any kind of cheese. I don't know where this strong reaction to raw milk came from but it was real. I call grocery-store bought whole milk "the real thing" but I guess it isn't. I'm now back to my low-fat adulterated product that has been treated with Lord knows what to make it creamy but, boy, that whole milk was good! Guess the moral here is that "the real thing" is a relative phrase. My father had many favorite sayings and on Father's Day I graciously salute his wisdom. I'm sure he's up there railing to someone about many things that don't concern milk but if it comes up in conversation, he'll not hesitate to offer his opinion. Whole milk is an indulgence I'm sure he'd approve of, even if he thinks it's only for cows and babies!

Talking Turkey

There's something about the flesh of a big bird that makes turkey unappealing to me. I can't put my finger on it but it's the same aversion I have to big oily fish. I once got sick after eating barracuda while on a sailing trip in the Bahamas and it seems to have traumatized me. Funny how food preferences are shaped by experience rather than actual taste. I hated beets when I was growing up and I think my mother liked them. It must have driven her crazy that I wouldn't touch them only because of a infantile indisposition to color or texture. It was only when I lived in France that I came to love beets. Now I can't get enough of the earthy flavor of those ruby-red crown jewels of root vegetables. I love them in salads, as a soup or as a side dish. One of my favorite salads is made of cubed beets, endive and toasted walnuts. They used to serve a similar salad at the Brasserie Balzar on the left bank, near the Sorbonne, in Paris. Theirs was made with mâche or lamb's lettuce instead of endive. Boy was that good! On Sunday nights there in my youth, I'd start with that salad then have their calves liver as a main course. I can remember it well.....A small piece of lightly crusty-on-the-outside and meltingly soft-on-the-inside liver (another foodstuff I wouldn't touch as a child!) served with sauteed potatoes and a broiled tomato. Yum. Yum. Yum. Dessert was profiteroles....those balls of cream-puff pastry filled with vanilla ice cream bathed in a warm chocolate sauce. THAT dessert I wouldn't have turned down as a child! I'm sure I'd have eaten profiteroles right out of the womb, given my inherent sweet tooth! Anyway, I digress. Getting back to food dislikes, it occurred to me yesterday as I roasted a turkey for a Thanksgiving article, that I really don't like it. I don't hate it and I'll certainly be having lots of turkey in the form of creative leftovers in the days to come but it's not my favorite food. The bird is just too big! More appealing are small birds like chicken, guinea hen, quail, pheasant but turkey?? I'll pass. The only turkey I remember with relish is one I had at my friend, Daniele's, on a visit to her farm in the Southwest of France. I was there at Thanksgiving once and she got a turkey from a neighbor who had raised it on chestnuts. It was small, like a wild turkey, and when roasted over an open spit it literally burst with flavor. Butterball it was not! I'd love to hear about other folk's food aversions and, specifically, where they come from.....What makes us like or dislike a certain food and what are the emotional components? Let's talk turkey!!

Eating in the Fast Lane

The last few years now I've been playing bridge at least two nights a week and sometimes more. This routine has interfered with my eating habits and I can't seem to find the right balance. My dinner often consists of something "on the run" and I regret that fact. I miss my nightly meals and am therefore thinking of cutting back on bridge. Since reaching my goal of "life-master" (the equivalent of a black belt in judo) I've felt a little less driven about the game. In the meantime, I'm still playing a lot and need to find a better way to manage my meals. Being a food writer means I sometimes have weird stuff on hand at the wrong time of year. For example, right now I'm testing recipes for the Thanksgiving issue of a monthly publication. I'm roasting a huge turkey, making stuffing, boiling sweet potatoes, preparing cranberry relish and baking a spice cake. The weather today is very pleasant but right before this nice cool wave came along, I was preparing this hearty fare while sweltering in a thick layer of heat and humidity---not a great time to be dealing with a Thanksgiving Day feast. I could say I'm used to it, having done this sort of thing for over 20 years. I'm not sure that's true. I've been working on winter holiday recipes in the midst of summer for a long time and it still seems strange. Eggnog in July? Rum-soaked fruit cake in August? I guess I can't complain. There are worse ways to make a living but unluckily for me and my loved ones, I'm plain "done-in" by the time Christmas comes each year. I've spent my holiday cooking energy! And in December, what do I have to work on? A host of recipes that deal with summer fare! Corn, tomatoes, basil, melons, berries in December?...That's why I say I have some unusual things in my refrigerator at times. Helas, I digress. My dilemma of the moment is about eating better before going out to play bridge. What's a guy to do? The other problem is that after cooking and cleaning up after myself all day long, the last thing I want to do is prepare a meal that I'll have to eat early and have to clean up from before I leave. This is where looking for something easy comes to mind. My friend, Wes, was telling me the other day how his mother worked hard during the day yet managed to both send him off to school with lunch in hand and to come home in time to put dinner on the table. How do working women do this day after day? It's no wonder convenience has become so important in the lexicon of marketing prepared foods. Who wouldn't pop a ready-to-eat frozen entree into the microwave at the end of the work day when you're already pushed to the limit? Luckily I haven't stooped that low but I can understand why a well-meaning soul might take such a route. Having something hot and even vaguely satisfying is appealing when you're tired and hungry. Living in Manhattan makes meal-planning easier. Within five minutes of my apartment, there are places where you can order take-out food that's just about as good as what I can prepare on my own. Well, not really --- but almost! If there is nothing in my fridge that looks like it'd make a quick dinner, I should exercise better planning and buy decent take-out food that I can eat before I leave the house. Oh well, as my dear friend, Susy, says---"These are up-town problems." Eating at home means eating well and eating well means putting effort into planning, shopping, cooking and cleaning up. There's no way around it but it seems as if we're all looking for an easy solution. Working mothers and bridge players unite!!

Love in the Twilight Years

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My cousin, Julia, is ninety years old and very healthy. When someone who's as healthy as she is at her age gives you advise, you tend to pay attention. Years ago, she told me that when she wants to loose weight, she eats turkey sandwiches. I thought of her when I was shopping on the Upper West Side this morning. Julia was married just after WWII to a dashing young fellow she'd met while serving in the Red Cross. The marriage was difficult and lasted only ten years. After her divorce, she settled in Atlanta where she worked hard for many years, usually in jobs for which she was overqualified. She retired when she approached seventy. I never considered her lonely as she had many friends and lots of family. She was active in her church, did some volunteering and went to concerts, plays and other cultural events. One day, out of the blue, she got a call from the sister of the fellow she'd divorced forty years earlier. The sister asked if Lou, the estranged husband, could call Julia. He did and they rekindled a relationship. Lo, and behold,for the last few years they've been a couple. He lives in Los Angeles and she lives in Atlanta. They go back and forth all the time with the nonchalance of youngsters. They've traveled the world together. They've been to Europe, Japan, China and I just heard that they're planning another adventure to the South Pacific. He's ninety two and she's ninety. So when Julia tells me that turkey sandwiches might be helpful when it comes to weight control, I listen but in my own way. I've been making great turkey sandwiches lately. I don't think they're the kind she had in mind but, boy, are they good! I go to Citarella and buy a fresh "pullman" loaf of bread. They slice it for me so it's just the right thickness. I buy their homemade turkey breast and ask them to slice it thin but not so thin that it shreds. At the same counter they sell imported Swiss cheese that I ask them to slice slightly thicker than the turkey. Next door at Fairway, I buy these wonderful out-of-season tomatoes called "clamatoes." When I get home, I slather both sides of this sensually fresh bread with Hellman's mayonnaise (a weakness of mine!) and proceed to make an extraordinary sandwich. I guess Julia's version would be more austere and I probably won't live as long as she has and, if I do, I won't be in as good shape as she is at ninety, but I sure like my turkey sandwich. And maybe just because she said it helped her, I'm hoping some of her good fortune will rub off on me. Anyway, I tip my hat to the two of them and am very happy they've shared these twilight years together.

I played in the Greater New York Bridge Association regional tournament this weekend. It was grueling --- all day, everyday for 5 straight days....I'm worn out! Because of the schedule, I couldn't eat at home and I missed my own cooking. How dreary to have to have all your meals in a restaurant! It makes you feel detached and untethered. I have some recipes to test for a project I'm working on and when that's done, I'm making a trip to the market to find local and seasonal ingredients so that I can Eat at Home. I can't linger here but wanted all to know that I haven't disappeared---just playing bridge nonstop for a week! Hope everybody had a good holiday weekend and that this summer will be a good one. Look forward to more of my musings in the days to come.....

My Meal Not At Home

Eating at home is usually the best option but every now and then, it's nice to go out --- no doubt about it. Most meals in restaurants are mediocre and unless you have deep pockets you're better off preparing your own dinner. That's the case in New York, anyway. When I lived in France it was different. You could almost always find a good restaurant for a reasonable amount of money. Is that true or was it just because I was young and in Paris? I don't know if it's still the case but "back in the day," the simplest meal there was memorable. Eating out comes to mind because last week I had dinner in a nice restaurant. Four of us went to 11 Madison in downtown Manhattan for an extravaganza. It's a big space with tall ceilings, huge windows and well-spaced tables. This makes a dramatic setting for flowers and on this evening, there were lots of red roses suspended on wire stanchions with big bouquets of Sweet William. My friends weren't too impressed with the floral details and found it somber. I kind of liked the austerity of it all but what do I know? Anyway, the food was good....for the most part. There were a couple of clunkers but, all in all, it was high-scale dining that didn't disappoint. Was it as good as a three-star Michelin restaurant? Mais, non. Did it cost as much as a three-star Michelin restaurant? Mais, oui. Could we have been more reserved in the wines we drank? Certainment... But boy, a good white Burgundy and a fine Riesling are sometimes worth the splurge. My most memorable dish? Foie gras with a head-cheese stuffing and pickled vegetables. They asked if I wanted to have a glass of late-harvest Riesling with it and luckily I said yes. It was excellent...Pardon my slight description of the evening but I'm signing off because I'm tired---I have some work these days and while this is a good thing, it tends to sap my energy. So Eat at Home except when someone says: "Let's make a reservation at 11 Madison." It's worth a detour.

Olé!

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The sun is out after a couple of dreary days and the blue sky is a welcome sight. I haven't posted in a few days because I'm happy to say I've actually had some work. That aside, my energy level has been low. The elections on Tuesday didn't help my rainy-day mood. Poor Mr. Spector....Think what you will about the guy but he has been a good public servant for thirty years. To see him loose a primary, especially at his age, is heartbreaking. And to think that a Tea Party candidate won in Kentucky! That just adds insult to injury. Guess we'll survive but you have to wonder what happened to all the forces of good that were with us right after Mr. Obama was elected. Where did we go wrong? The rapid right is so good at framing issues to their advantage. It's easy for them to get a message across in a quick sound-bite whereas more nuanced positions are not so easily or quickly defined. At the White House, they're celebrating the visit of the president of Mexico. Maybe Senor Calderón's stay takes the sting out of some Tuesday's results for the beleaguered administration. Diversion is a good thing and what better way is there to take our minds off losses than to eat? Sounds like the state dinner was a success and Rick Bayless from Chicago's Topolobampo pulled off a meal that I'm sure was memorable. So while I watched the ho-hum American Idol finalists on TV, Mr. Bayless and Beyoncé made history. I get the feeling that Rick likes the spotlight. I'm sure he's a good restaurateur and his Chicago connection makes him the right cook for this event but maybe they should have hired some illegal immigrants from Arizona to cater the affair. Or the mother of the little girl who,in the presence of Mexico's first lady, told Michele that her mother was here without papers. Instead of Beyoncé, they could have asked Sheriff Arpiao to come up from Arizona to put on a skit. He could have conducted a fake raid and carted off all those undesirables to a Washington jail where they'd have to listen to courses in American history from Sarah Palin and Rush Limbaugh. Maybe his warm-up act could have been last night's American Idol loser, Goldilocks Casey James, who would have put them all to sleep.... Oh---it's a funny old world. Time for lunch now so I'll go ponder it all....Thanks for giving the chance to vent!!!

Susannah and Pad Thai

I grew up in Georgia with my friend, Susannah, who now lives in Chelsea. It's always a treat when I meet her for lunch. She's a talented artist whose wit, intelligence and insight I greatly appreciate. Because we come from the same background, I often feel like she understands some of the complexities of living in New York more readily than others in my circle of friends. She took me to a Thai restaurant in her neighborhood today where I had Pad Thai, a dish that seems to be on menus everywhere these days. When it's good, it's very satisfying. Lightly seasoned flat noodles are tossed with fresh bean sprouts, egg, scallions and chopped peanuts for a perfect lunch dish. It almost always comes with a wedge of lime that adds a squirt of fresh flavor and there's often a choice of beef, chicken, pork or shrimp. I sometimes choose tofu for my protein as it's lighter and easier to digest. (And also because I think I'm going to turn into a chicken if I eat more than I already do!). The one I had today wasn't so good and I can't put my finger on it. It was heavy, not very well seasoned, a little oily and generally uninteresting. It reminded me of a piece by Mark Bitman in last week's NY Times. He says there's no reason why we can't make it at home and goes on to give a good recipe that's worth a look. Odds are a homemade version is better than you'd find in many NY restaurants so have a good go at Mr. Bitman's and remember that it's always better to Eat At Home....

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• The Minimalist: Pad Thai, an Easy Stir-Fry (nytimes.com)

Is she what she eats?

I think we should start the confirmation process of Elena Kagan's nomination to the Supreme Court by asking her what she eats. That's, to me, a sign of one's character. I'd like to know what she has for breakfast. A bagel? A croissant? A boiled egg or a simple bowl of cereal? I see that she studied at Oxford. Does she appreciate the virtues of "bangers and mash?" Does she have a feel for how great English dairy products are? I know she's a terribly busy woman but I'd like to know what she has for lunch, or rather, how does she navigate the pressures of a full schedule with the very human need to eat? Such daily habits are revealing, n'est-ce pas? She's short so she must watch her weight but is she someone who's constantly on a diet or does she let nature take it's course? What sort of wine does she drink? Is she a vegetarian? Does she have a sweet tooth? If I were having her for dinner, I'd like to know what foods to avoid. Is she allergic to shellfish? I read an article in today's NY Times about a woman who is deathly allergic to paprika and because of this affliction, the poor soul has spent $10,000 on a help-dog who is trained to detect the deadly substance. (She's suing her employer because she was let go when a fellow worker is allergic to the dog!) These sorts of allergies say something about one's demeanor so if Ms. Kagan has a severe allergy, I want to know before I vote to seat her ( as if I have a vote!!).... In any case, Ms. Kagan seems like a decent sort and I hope she's confirmed. But I think her eating habits should be delved into as part of the vetting process.....She's there for life so, who knows---she might be asked to vote on a foie gras ban, decide on doing away with veal or asked to adjudicate on the issue of oysters from the tainted waters of the Gulf Coast or to declare that some overfished species are verboten..For those of us who Eat At Home, these are important issues of the day!!

Mother's Day

I often wish I could talk to my mother for just five minutes. She's been gone for a few years now and for ten years before she died you couldn't really have a conversation with her. Dementia had taken it's hold by the time she was in her late 70's and she, of course, was never the same after the onset of this insidious malady. It's been a long time since I've been able to pick up the phone and ask her how she's doing. I think of her on mother's day and send her good fortune wherever she might be. Eligal was her nickname and that's what we all called her---except when she made us mad and then she was "Mama." She wasn't much of a cook, preferring the golf course, doing water colors or hiding out in the attic where she went to play the guitar. There was an article in yesterday's NY Times featuring paintings by several artists who depicted childhood memories of dishes prepared by their mothers. I laughed when I thought of how I'd paint a small plate of canned pears with some grated cheese on top or, if we were lucky, a sandwich of cream cheese and dates. Luckily, we had a wonderful maid who took up the slack. If it hadn't been for Elizabeth, I think we'd have starved....Not all women are meant to be good cooks and she had other memorable traits. Anyway, I had lunch with a friend at a local restaurant yesterday and watched several families celebrating motherhood. I pined for Eligal who used to make me laugh, who could infuriate me like nobody else could, who soothed my wounds at times and who was always interested in what I was up to no matter what she really thought about it all. I also saw a wonderful movie called "Mother and Child" with Annette Benning, written and directed by Rodrigo Garcia who did a couple of other films I liked, "Things You Can Tell Just by Looking at Her" and "Nine Lives." This film is sort of melancholy but very touching. I think that if I had my longed-for five minutes talk with my mother, I would have told her how much I enjoyed the movie. I doubt she'd ever have seen it but she would have feigned interest --- maybe that's what I miss.

This free-lance life

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Just when I thought everything was going to be okay, an e-mail arrives announcing that the project I'd hoped to be working on has fallen through. Ugh! I get tired of these set-backs but there isn't much I can do. It's part and parcel of this free-lance life and that's just the way it is. In the meantime, I did have a rush job over the weekend and it involved roast beef. Hadn't roasted a big piece of meat in a while and I must say, it's sort of rewarding. The sight, smell and taste is so primal. And there is nothing easier or more economical. Just rub the joint with a little oil, season with salt and pepper then pop it in the oven.....I seared the sirloin tip first but I'm not sure it was necessary. If I'd started it in a really hot oven then turned the heat down (from something like 500°F. reduced to 350°F.), the results would probably been the same. The editor wanted me to roast carrots and potatoes along side the beef. This provided an easy and simple side dish but it didn't allow for making a delicious sauce from the pan drippings. Also, the editor didn't want to use a tenderloin because it was deemed too expensive and if it's one thing I've learned about roasts over the years, you're almost always better off with a splurge if you want a really fine piece of roast beef. It's almost always best to either cook an inexpensive piece of beef very slowly for a long time or to cook an expensive cut rather quickly and efficiently. She wanted me to use either eye-of-round or sirloin tip and having picked the latter, I wasn't unhappy with the results but I know in my heart-of-hearts that a tenderloin would have been a much better choice. Anyway, it was good and it's nice to have leftovers. The next day I used a big chunk of the roast to make four individual portions of shepherd's pie which are tucked away in the freezer for future consumption. (I added some boned short rib beef that I had hanging around from another set of recipe testing I'd done earlier in the week --- waste not, want not!!). I kept a little piece of the leftover roast for sandwiches, too. So that's my adventure with roast beef. Of course it's not the greatest idea to have the stove on for three hours when it's hot and humid outside but come next fall, I'll do it again. Maybe by then my free-lance life will have picked up and I'll be able to enjoy that primal feeling of carnivorous well-being again. There is something reassuring about meat and while I often say I could live on fish alone, beef does appeal to an innate part of my soul. Try roasting a joint before the real heat of summer sets in and let me know how it goes...Happy cooking!!

Still getting my feet wet!!

Don't give up on me! Just after I decided to begin anew, wouldn't you know I'd get a couple of nice-paying but quick-turn-around jobs that pay real money! Will "come back to the fold" in due time and when I do---watch out!!

Greetings!

Greetings! I've decided to come back for a while and see what happens. Will post again soon.....