Forking Tasty

Borough Market Madness

If there’s one place you have to visit when in London it’s Borough Market. Yes, it’s a little touristy. Yes, It can be crowded. Despite these negatives the culinary wonders that can be seen, smelt and tasted far outweigh the annoyances. I’ve been here before. You may remember. This time it was all about a traveling snack. Having just walked from Tower Bridge and heading to Knotting Hill, I needed a tie-me-over for this uber London crossing.

The March to Fryer’s Delight

The name of this place always sounds like you’d walk into a velvet draped boudoir riddled with oil rubbed fry men being fanned by veiled mermaids. My over active imagination aside, any trip to Londontown without a stop at this bare bones chip shop is a failure as far as I am concerned. I hit it on the very last day of the trip during a long walk back to the hotel to grab my bags and head to Heathrow. Despite it being a bit dated and factory fry I enjoyed my cod and fries immensely. This was the last stop in what had been quite the afternoon eating adventure. Among my other stops in this final munch march were…

Bangered!

London called and I answered with wife in tow. A 72 hour long banger and mash crawl sent us to the far ends of London proper allowing us to discover a myriad of tasty outside of our self-prescribed sausage hunt. A few delicious, quick food joints and a small disappointment at one of London’s most famous chef’s hot spots are among the oven fresh topics. Look for the highlights in upcoming posts this week and next. We might even get to print a few words from my wife on this one. Her “Born in Britain” was in full effect and the nostalgia meter was off the chart. For now think about eating 10 sausages in 3 days. Then look close at the above image. Tasty right?

A moment in Philadelphia

Memory is an odd thing. Mix taste that with and you’ll get some really strange stories. If you ask me, these are some of the best memories to have but then again I write this blog. What would you expect?

The bite you see above was the very last thing I ate on a recent visit to Talula’s Garden, one of Steven Starr’s newest and best Philadelphia restaurants. Yes, there were plenty of other amazing bites as I progressed from bar cocktail to appetizers, to entrees and through dessert. The  braised veal rosemary pappardelle with kale, mushrooms, and garlic-tomato jus made me tingle. The Florida pink snapper with grapefruit, fennel, fingerlings, herbs and warm baby lettuces burned itself into my brain. The miniature cupcake trio of a spiced pumpkin, a dark chocolate-peanut butter and a sweet cream-apple was an olfactory hat trick. But, it was these small cardamom chips that blew my mind. Their subtle but super complex taste became the single dominant memory from this meal. When I talk about this restaurant, when I recommend it, when I mention Philadelphia even, I talk about these crumbs. The small, seemingly insignificant chips placed next to a simple cup of coffee is the dominant menu item that flashes instantly to mind. Dan Gilbert can explain much better than I can what happens to an experience memory days, months and years after it’s moment but if these little sweets can leave such a lasting impression, imagine how superb all the “real food” must be. Get there. Tell me your story.

Bosnian Delight

Have you ever had lunch and when you were done with lunch you were just not satisfied at all. That is what happened to me the other day. I had to take matters in my own hands and solve this problem. I did just that with Old Bridge Burger.

‘Wich Hunting: Pilot Episode

While in Italy I realized that there’s a lot happening around the world between two slices of bread. Anthony and I have travelled the world eating everything from Balut in the Philippines to blood sausage in Argentina. In every destination there has always been a sandwich shop. Some were good and some were bad but they all had their unique take on this ubiquitous meal. The origin of the sandwich is highly debated and we’ll dive into that on our journey as we discover, taste and debate the best sandwiches in the world.

Moving Day

Recently the southerner and I moved into an apartment in Queens. It was a big move day because I had to basically take my entire life that was sitting in storage and move it to the new apt. We were lucky we only had one flight in our walk up apartment. The original place we almost got was a 5 story walk up. I almost could not make the one flight with all my stuff.
It started out great picked up the u-haul truck drove down to storage and loaded the truck to the max by noon. Drove slowly as all my stuff was bouncing around all on the drive from brooklyn to my apartment in Queens. Everything was running smooth. I even found a parking spot right in front of the apartment. What a miracle day, and then….

The Peter Lugar of Italy

Today, if you are a strick catholic, you’re not supposed to eat meat. I figured that’s a great opportunity to write about meat. I personally am about to dive elbow deep into 31 lobsters in prep for tonights feast of the seven fishes. Whether you eat meat or not, this discovery is one to add to your Italy hit list.

Peter Lugars is my favorite steakhouse. I love everything about it but specifically the cut of steak, size of steak and the way you order your steak are paramount to the experience. Florence, all of Tuscany for that matter, is known for it’s beef. Just ask Dario Cecchini. It seems like everyone else has. If you ask me, Bistecca al la Fiorentina is a must taste when visiting the city. The place to have it is Buca Mario. This five steps down, dungeons lair is actually as old world as it looks. The meat is displayed in a glass case as you enter and you’re escorted through the twists and turns of the low ceilinged subterranean steakhouse to your table. On the way you pass diners with enormous steaks half and three quarters eaten. Your stomach growls and your mouth starts to water.

The menu is where the “Lugars” really shines through. You order this goliath steak by number. Steak for one, two or three. Sides are all a la carte, like Lugars. The cut is a Porterhouse, like Lugars, although, the Florentine cut is a bit less tenderloin and a bit more strip than in the states. It also measures in at 3 inches thick. That’s a solid half inch taller than Lugars. The beauty of butchering is how different countries cut slightly portions resulting in new types of steaks to eat. The wine list is extensive, as you’d imagine. Much better than Lugars. When the steak finally arrives it comes cooked only one way. Rare. I made it through most of this meat but slowed at the end thanks to the pasta appetizer I just had to have. In the end I’ll say the experience was amazing but the taste is better in the US. Argentina still reigns supreme but that’s another trip.

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Florence Fast Food

You know what good salumi looks like and if you don’t you clearly don’t read Forking Tasty enough. I’ll proceed with my assumption being correct. That explains my choice to show the shop the salumi came from instead of the thinly slices, perfectly aged, fat and spiced filled pork that came from within. Florence is packed with these tiny shops that sell wine by the glass, panini or boards of salumi. around 3 or 4pm the florentine locals come out of the surrounding buildings and pop into one of the dozens of options available for snacking.

On this particular afternoon, as we sauntered away from the glorious Duomo, a chalkboard with different types of salumi plates caught our attention. We slipped into the tiny shop to procure one of the tasty specials. Cutting to order, the proprietor stood in a small square box surrounded by a cash register, meat slicer and fifty different salumi and proscuittos. Minutes later he handed us a board with our five different selections laid out like silk scarves across the rustic wood. The only spot to sit were two counters that ran along the outer walls providing only 8 seats. The idea is much like the bar (read coffee shop) culture you find all over Italy. A small space which provides a quick snack, a sip and a little conversation before you move on to your next errand or destination. The flow, premise and tradition of this behavior is one in which I cherish and believe should exist worldwide. With our board wiped clean of pig slices we we’re off for Gelato. See…When you’re not a local your next errand tends to be another snack.

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You Macaroon!

Macaroons are not Italian but maccarone is. Like many things French, macaroons inspiration came from the Italians. This post isn’t sparking a debate about the inception of modern cuisine although read “Food In History“, then let’s talk. My intro was simply a snarky preface to the surprise I received when checking into my hotel room in Florence. Before I go any further let’s be clear that when I discovered this treat I was standing in the Four Seasons Hotel as a guest on his honeymoon. Something of this nature is expected in a property of this caliber but the handmade attention to detail you see above was still surprising. The taste matched the presentation keeping my wife and I sugared up and ready to tour Firenza.

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