Forking Tasty

A Bracciole in Kielbasa Land

We all know Greenpoint is home to many Polish families. Maybe you don’t, but if you have ever walked down Manhattan Ave. north of Greenpoint Ave it takes but a block to realize. Three butcher shops and 2 bakeries in the first block all with too many consonants in their name is a good tip off. I’ve lived on this stretch of Manhattan Ave. for three years now. There are weekend mornings I wake up and on the walk for coffee I hear not a word of english. It’s a bit eerie and a a bit comfortable at the same time. The comfortable far out weights the eerie, at least for me. Not only does it make me feel like I am traveling, which I love, but it excites my sense of discovery. The effect is intensified once you step into one of the shops. Be it a stop for Kielbasa or bobka the first words spoken to you are usually not those you understand. This may make these places intimidating. It may even make them a hassle to shop in.

I writing to debunk that theory. To do that I went straight to the heart of this matter. I went to…

‘Mata’s

When I was a little kid we always had a garden. I hated it. It was a lot of work. When you are 5 the last thing you want to do is clean up weeds, pick ripe specimens and protect the growing crops from horn worms, flying things and the occasional 4 legged mammal. The garden was large, about a third of my backyard at its largest. That translates roughly into a 40×60 foot plot of peppers, radishes, tomatoes, zucchini, carrots, lettuce, blueberries, strawberries, eggplants, cucumbers and all types of herbs. To add to my misery, I found little logic with the garden and its yield. In the height of the summer we could barely the pick ripe fruits and vegetables fast enough, let alone eat them. This led to a weekly delivery service run by my parents with my brother and I as the primary delivery boys. We would bring crates of tomatoes and zucchinis to our neighbors on the block without as much as a dime. The occasional pat on the head and a “tell your mother she is too kind” was about as rich as we got.

As I look back now I see…

Channeling Butter and Milk

I usually don’t start a post with a pic of dessert. In fact, I don’t usually order dessert. As it turns out, that recurring Canadian I mention on this blog has some influence over my consumption after all.

A few weeks ago I traveled south to Carroll Gardens to dine with some friends who have the hood dialed. Knowing that I would be critical of the food choice, they started me out with some bread, cheese and a balsamic reduction at their apt. to ease me into dinner. Just across the street and a block down is Buttermilk Channel, named after the channel that used to be crossed for dairy farmers to sell their goods to Manhattan. Today’s channel is much deeper and is home to the Queen Mary 2. The restaurant pulls form a bit of that old world by making everyone feel quite at home whether you are a regular patron or a first time visitor.

Since we started with dessert, let’s continue backwards…

Tiny Vino Oasis

After this week, finding this in my kitchen was a pleasant surprise. I will be visiting this establishment tonight for sure. Although the patrons are tiny they carry BIG personalities. I like that. Ok, you got me. I built it from my recently acquired, retro set of pre-lego-building-fantastico Lincoln Logs. Sometimes you need to get back to your roots in that pilgrim heritage type of way. I am hoping the cheese hut truck shows up later as well.

KFC Double Down

With a name like that there was no need to craft a witty title to this post. When I first saw the commercial for this revolutionary new sandwich from Kentucky Fried Chicken…ohhh, sorry should I say Kentucky Grilled Chicken because…

Freshipes: Ada Boni

The Talisman Italian Cookbook, or Il Talismano della Felicità, is perhaps the most complete, quintessential catalog of Italian specialties translated for the American kitchen. I found this in my grandmothers kitchen the last time I visited her in Florida. Originally written in 1929, the edition she had was adapted and printed by the Ronzoni Macaroni company in 1950. It was also bound backwards. This means when you open the front cover the first page you see is the last page of the recipe index upside down. Never the less, this miss print and marketing promotion aside, the book has some great traditional Italian recipes. In particular, a recipe for “Large meatball home style”. In Italian this is know as polpettone.

The polpettone is a mysterious dish because it is so huge it is quiet elusive to make well. Frank in the East Village does the absolute best one I have ever had. It is a real skill to figure out how to keep it moist, cook it through and crisp the outside all at the same time. My results were mense a mense. (mediocre in english). I kept it moist but it lacked a lot of flavor. Here is…

TURDUCKEN!!!

And you thought it was a myth. Worse you thought it was impossible to make. Well, you were wrong. Dead wrong. This past Tuesday Aimee, Mark (a good supperclub buddy) and I took on the task of making a turducken from scratch for the Gastronauts. The Gastronauts is a club for adventurous eaters who explore the astounding variety of global cuisines in the far, and near, reaches of NYC. Their reason for being is very similar to ours. It’s just as much about the company as it’s about the food. So, when they asked us to host a dinner on the deck we were overjoyed.

The theme was Creole/Cajun cuisine. We had the standards; Jambalya, Crawfish Tails, Cracklins, Black Eyed Peas just to name a few of the 12 plus dishes. To add to the NOLA effect the mercury jumped to 103 that day setting records. The full review of pics can be found on the Gastronauts site. I thought I would chronicle the turducken steps below so you can see what a massive undertaking this was. Just to put your head in the right place we started with a 5lbs chicken, a 5 lbs duck and a 30lbs turkey. The first thing you need to do is debone all the birds WHILE keeping it whole. Here we go…

Matter over Mind

View NYC Food Tour 1 in a larger map

This blog has proven that I have a disposition to over indulge. It’s a problem and a constant battle between my brain and my waistline. I rationalize my decisions to stuff myself with the idea that the opportunity at hand is unique and once in a lifetime. This is rarely the truth but often the perceived reality. Regardless of the motivation, this post trumps all the others in ridiculousness.

I had just flown back in town from Chicago and two friends from San Francisco when a txt message popped up on my phone. Two buddies from San Francisco were in town and wanted to go run-a-muk stuffing our faces all over town. Truth be told, Ben, Chef of SPICE Supper Club, had been riding me for weeks about the “eating tour” and now he was ready to roll. Irrationally deciding I had to…

Happy 4th of July-REVISED

Smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em. And, WE JUST GOT ‘EM!!!! My first foray into smoking. I have been putting it off for a longtime while I enjoyed the professionals excellent smoked tasty. What’s inside? A rack of ribs and a half a pork butt. Both covered in Rendevous BBQ dry rub. Chips=Hickory. Temp 165. (this is my worry right now. I can’t seem to get it up to 225 but not sure if I need to). Stay tuned for the verdict. AND NOW THE VERDICT…

$1.65 Airport Starbucks

There has to be some sort of subsidizing here right? The exact same cup of coffee costs me $1.85 in Brooklyn. If we were comparing Seattle to New York I’d be fine with this. But we are not. We are comparing the locked down, price gouging internal airport food service world with a regular “street” coffee. If I were to make a straight airport to airport comparison, the NYC JFK coffee would be close to $5. So how is it that an airport Starbucks can cost less than a non-airport Starbucks? I’d love to know. Howard if you read this please let give me some insight. What’s most alarming is that this raises a much larger question. If Starbucks can do this, why can’t everyone else at the airport? I understand supply and demand but $14.50 for a 3 day old, dry turkey sandwich makes me furious.