Christmas is NOT historically about giving. The modern day Christmas has become a frantic race to buy “crap” for people who you think will by you “crap” before the date reaches an arguably, fictitious, birthday in December. Today’s modern American culture has produced a true Christmas in July. More and more each year I hear that people start shopping for Christmas back in the summer. By comparison, people get engaged after dating for less time, spend less time organizing their finances for their tax return and plan expensive family vacations in a quarter of that time. Add to that fabricated days like “Black Friday” and “Cyber Monday” and the frenzy hits pandemonium status. Major big box chain stores open their doors at 4am. Retailers run sales called “door busters”. Really? That passed Kohl’s legal review? Why don’t they just call it “leg breakers” or “throat slashers”. Saving $10 on a $40 toy that will be played with for 5 minutes before your kids attention moves to the next gift hardly seems worth it. But then again, I don’t have kids.

I am sorry about the rant but I wanted to raise an eyebrow or two, make you think a little and set up a solution to this maddening cultural disaster. When, and if (Mom), I do have kids all presents except one will be edible. I wish I could say this practice is in full effect in my family (Thanks Uncle Doug for the awesome iPod alarm clock) but we are getting there. Giving edible gifts solves a few problems. First, it eliminates thinking about and buying Christmas gifts in July. In fact Black Friday and Cyber Monday will cease to exist as well. Second, You don’t have to worry about the gift fitting or being disliked by the recipient. Watch what they eat on December 23. Go to the market and get that. Simple. Done.  Third, No one has ever busted down a door to get into a butcher shop before 100 other people so they could get a discounted piece of meat. On a side note, never buy discounted meat. There has to be a reason why it is discounted and trust me, it is not because they produced too many cows this month at the factory and need to move the inventory. Fourth, It is sharable. Edible gifts promote curiosity, conversation and comradery (we talk a lot about that on this blog). Fifth, and finally, If by some reason you don’t like the gift it is out of your system and life in no more than 24 hours. We don’t like to discuss that on this forum but think about it for a second…..Ahhhh, yep, you got it.

I have narrowed the edible category of gifts down to a simple, easy to remember phrase that applies not only to Christmas but to any gift giving occasion. GIVE MEAT! Meat is universal. Excluding vegetarians, vegans, Hindus, Buddhists, Jainists, slaughter house workers, Seventh-day Adventists, Rastafari, Hare Krishnas, people in PETA and my friend Kevin, who doesn’t LOVE meat?

I have been practicing this for years in our house. The 6 bone ribeye roast above has become the staple gift of Christmas day. The first thing we open is the roast. Everyone gathers around and gawks. Then we dress it up in its Christmas best and get it spinning. As the day progresses everyone is always peeking into the kitchen and checking on the meat. Our olfactory systems are acutely tuned to that first wiff of hot, crisping beef fat mixed with fresh herbs and garlic. With the meat as the king of gifts the turkey is the queen. The royal court changes from year to year but always is made up of an incredible line up of antipasti, casseroles, sauces, dips, bread, and desserts. This year was no exception.

Instead of calling out each dish I felt it better to post the below slide show. It will show all the gifts, both edible and non-edible. Hopefully through the slideshow you can see the joy around the giving of meat as well as the curiosity, conversation and comradery I mentioned earlier.

I know you all understand that Italians eat a lot. I also know you realize that we dial things up during the holidays, particularly Christmas Eve. What I am willing to bet most of you have fell short on is truly understanding the amount of food that gets cooked, served and consumed in the course of one long, over indulgent, hot pan may lay, melted butter tornado of a meal. Some call it the feast of the seven fishes we just call it “the start” because it kicks off a four day eating event that includes Christmas Day, “The Day After” (December 26th) and “The Hangover” (December 27th).

The day is always filled with lots of loud conversation (which can be mistaken for arguing to most outsiders) grabbing at food, over stuffing plates, sugar highs, impromptu menu items and a random nap break. For this post I’ll focus on the food. For those of you wishing to better understand the behavioral dynamics of a dysfunctional, food obsessed family of Italians, leave a comment and we can see if we can help you out Donnie Brasco style.

The seven fish thing started because Italians, and many other catholics, don’t eat meat on Christmas eve. We are not religious enough to truly understand the reasoning behind this but we are traditional enough to hold it as a rule. A loose one at that. Hence the first of the seven courses.

1. Bacon Wrapped Scallops with a blackberry jam glaze. Dipped in a horseradish jam sauce.

2. Cast Iron mussels with clarified butter, salt, pepper. Super simple and delicious.

3. Raw clams with homemade cocktail sauce.

4. Grilled shrimp scampi with fennel, lemoncello glaze.

5. Linguine and clam sauce.I brought the fresh pasta down straight from brooklyn.

6. Seafood chowder

7a. 14 Steamed lobster with clarified butter.
7b. Broiled lobster tails stuffed with crab meat and a bechemel reisling reduction sauce

So that was seven. There were a few additional dishes thrown in throughout the day so we actually wound up with nine dishes. That doesn’t count dessert. So let’s keep going.

8. Roasted zucchini and lobster risotto

9. Whole red snapper baked in parchment with thyme, lemon and kalamata olives.

That run down has made me hungry and tired. The nap this year fell in between the linguine and the lobsters. The kitchen didn’t stop for all seven hours. Comparing it to last year I think we stepped it up. But you can decide for yourself.What is your favorite course from above? Tell me what you would love to see on the next Reel Tasty menu, I’d love to hear.

I can barely move. I am not kidding. For the last 168 hours I have done very little but eat. My goal to eat smart and healthy between Thanksgiving and Christmas succeeded but I find myself asking to what end. Since the 24th I have put an ungodly amount of food down my throat. The best recap would be here. But let’s see if we can do a quick run down below.

12 dozen homemade cookies
11 piping hot side dishes
10 Tiger Shrimps a leaping
9 lobsters dancing
8 made of milk and cream sauces
7 fishes on Christmas eve (look for the post)
6 bone ribeye roast (another post)
5 linguine and clam sauce rings
4 plus 21lbs of turkey bird
3 french garlic breads
2 plates of lobster/crab risotto
1 Cold Stone creamery run

When I say this was a long time, and talk, coming. I am not kidding. I was in Santa Barbera for my great friends’ wedding. The night I arrived in town I needed some tasty. I was with my work wife Jen, who most of you know. We walked the main drag in SB looking for the right spot. As we passed Pierre Lafond’s Wine Bistro I was drawn in. Then I saw it. On the brunch menu was a double cut pork chop First of all, a pork chop for breakfast is KING. Second, you double cut that and I’ll love faster than Tom Cruise saying “Hello” to a swollen Zellweger. But, I had to postpone the infatuation for 18 hours.

The next day I returned (hours before the wedding) ready to roll up my sleeves, sip some tasty white wine and dig on that double cut swine. Yes, I am rhyming. I brought along a few new friends and Jen of course. She was not missing this meal. We were 6 total. A few bottles were popped and we got down to the business of ordering. Ben, sitting to my left, said he would have the chop. I immediately replied by saying I would need to have that too. He gave me a look. I just met Ben. He is a food guy too. In fact, he does a great little supper club in San Fran. He is also married to my good friend Kelly. He followed his look with the best 2 words you can say to me at a restaurant. Let’s share. With that, he and I were off to the races. We racked up 4 apps for the table including this lobster salad sandwich.

And then piled on the double cut chop and a roasted free range chicken for entrees.

The chicken was ok BUT the pork chop did not disappoint. Juicy, thick and perfectly cooked as you can see. I think that Lafond’s can be hit or miss with what you order but the pork is so good it is worth the visit just to see the plate arrive. The wine held up to the establishments name with two great bottles of wine poured over the 2 hour meal.

Before we knew it the wedding was to begin in 2 hours. With a mild mid day buzz we strolled home to change with the warm Santa Barbara sun keeping us warm and “fuzzy” as we strolled.

Pierre Lafond: Bistro
516 State Street
Santa Barbara, CA 93101-1602
(805) 962-1455

I have finally caught up on all the India posts. Just in time too, I have so much to share from my Santa Barbera and Austin trips. To close off India I played a sort of “blank” meal game. The four stories below are the outcome of the questions I asked myself about eating in India. I think these questions cover the spiritual, fearful, gastronomical and monumental aspects of my journey.

I asked myself these four questions. I hope you all enjoyed the India fun. Next time you take a trip perhaps you can ask yourself these four questions and let me know your answers. I’d love to hear from you.

1. What’s the memorable meal you had?
2. What’s the calmest meal you had?
3. What’s the riskiest meal you had?
4. What’s the best meal you had?

Ohh…btw… The above pic is of my breakfast teh morning I woke up in Munnar. Fresh idlis with a curry sauce and a coconut chutney. Par for the course by day 12 in India.

People say India is completely crazy and that it fries your nerves. They are right to an extent. As a New yorker and avid traveler i think I was able to deal with the constant horns, movement, shuffling of people, spitting, cow crossing and blazing sun. But from time to time even I needed a refuge. After a long morning exploring Jewtown in Cochin I poked my way around the side streets looking for a spot for lunch. I happened along Caza Maria, which was noted in my guide book, and I started up the long set of stairs up to the restaurant. Once upstairs the corridor opened up into a large room with large, arched, glassless, windows along the wall that looked out onto the street. I was seated at a table on the opposite wall where the sound of the street was muffled into background music. Three giant fans blew around the warm, think air in the room creating just enough breeze to be cooled. I browsed the menu that had been placed in front of me with little regard for time. After the waiters third attempt to take my order I had finally decided.

I started with the yogurt drink pictured at the top. It was made with cucumber and sea salt. It was very fresh, cold and tasty. This chilled me out even more both mentally and physically.

Next up was this fish curry and coconut rice. Again they used kingfish, an apparent staple in Cochin. Both were good.

They were not great and not bad but with my current mind set and ultra-relaxed mode the food was perfect. I sat nibbling for at least an hour. My mind drifted in and out of thoughts from what I did yesterday to the paint color on the wall to what would my next meal be.

Once I finished the plates the waiter removed them leaving me with an empty table in an empty restaurant. I ordered a chai and sauntered over to one of the windows to look down at the street happenings.

I stood in that window sipping my tea for another hour just watching the comings and goings of Cochin. To say I was relaxed at this point would be an understatement. I had managed to put myself in a near sleep state by finding this gem of a spot perched up above the chaos. Resisting the need to leave and the inevitable end of my calm I lingered as long as I could with out becoming a nuisance to the staff, who by the way had cleaned up the restaurant and were relaxing in the living room in the adjoining room. Finally I convinced myself if I didn’t leave now I would have to have dinner in this place and with that I slipped back into the corridor, down the steps and back out on to the busy, hot street. I managed to keep my calm for a while after rejoining the hustle but eventually lost it when a tuk tuk and dump truck almost collided behind me avoiding a large white bull that had wandered into the narrow Cochin streets. Nothing lasts forever, right?

Munnar is a town that sits high in the mountains surrounded by tea plantations. It had taken me 6 hours to reach it by car. In those 6 hours I had been to an elephant bath, waterfalls and a spice farm. Now I was about to roll the dice.

My driver and I we hungry and we pulled off the road to get some food. Finding a parking spot in the bustling town we walked towards a series of restaurants. My driver signaled to the restaurant I was supposed to eat at. The safe restaurant. The tourist restaurant. The clean restaurant. The non-local restaurant. The in-authentic restaurant. I started towards it as my driver headed in the opposite direction towards “his” restaurant. I stopped in my tracks spun around and ran after him. I explained I wanted to eat with him. I wanted to eat where he ate. He nodded and the two of us walked another 20 feet into a tiny little roadside joint. As I entered the packed restaurant of ALL Indian men looked up at me. We found our way to a couple open seats shoulder to shoulder with other men already eating. My driver signaled to the waiter and he ran off. I looked around and realized everyone was eating the same thing. Just as I finished this analysis the waiter was back with the same large silver tray I had just finished noticing in front of everyone else.

Inside the tray was a huge scoop of rice and 9 small stainless steel cups each containing a different sauce. I watched my driver to see what to do next. He removed each cup and placed them neatly around the outer rim of the circular tray. I mimicked him. Next he rolled up his sleeve on his right hand. Again, I did the same. Next the waiter came back carrying a large silver bucket with a giant ladle in it. Re extracted some orange, spicy liquid from the bucket and poured it on both of our rice mounds. My driver put his right hand straight into the rice and started shoveling it into his mouth. I hesitated for a second and then dove right in myself. i didn’t know exactly what I was about to eat but at this point I knew there was no turning back.

A minute later the waiter brought a deep fried fish about 6 inches long and placed it next to me. My driver smiled at me trying to let me know that he ordered that for me special. We sat in silence pouring sauce, hand mixing it into the rice and shoveling it into our mouths for about 20 minutes. As I ate I wondered with every sample of new sauce if it would be my demise. Rule number one, was NOT to eat any sauce that is at room temperature. It is these sauces that get people sick. But, what was I to do? I refused to eat where my driver dropped me. I was sitting 10 people deep at a table of Indians with a giant tray of rice and sauce in front of me. The whole restaurant was watching me. And, it smelled delicious.

Having finished rolling the dice we climbed back into the car and headed for top station. Top station is the peak where the state of Kerela (which I was currently in) and Tamil Nadu meet and it was another 2 hour drive from Munnar. The whole trip through the beautiful tea plantations, wild elephant spottings and monkey encounters I was hoping my stomach was not going to punish me for eating “off the reservation”. Let’s just say the bathroom options were rudimentary…..and by that I mean non-existant.

2 hours later I reached the peak and was rewarded with an amazing view and a settled stomach.

The rest of the evening and the next day was more of the same. By the time I hit the 24 hour post meal mark I new I was in the clear. With a subconscious sigh of relief I boarded a rice boat to start the next eating adventure of the trip.

You only turn 35 once, so I decided to do it in a palace. I woke up on my 35th birthday on a rice boat in Kerela. By dinner time I had finished a 1 hour boat ride, 2 hour car ride, 1 hour flight and another 4 hour drive to get myself to Mysore. Mysore is in Karnataka and just happens to be Preethi’s Dad’s home town. I came to Mysore mostly because of the market but this added bit of legacy made it even more special.

I checked into my palace, aka The Green Hotel, and realized I was very hungry. After I dropped my bags I headed out to the great lawn besides the palace. It was set with large lawn chairs around tables for dinner guests. After my last 6 days of fish and seafood I was ready for some chicken or lamb. As I perused the restaurant I saw a ton of delicious dishes. Preethi had told me that a Mysore specialty was marasa which is a cold coconut rice. Not seeing it on the menu I asked the waiter if he could make it and he easily agreed. To accompany the rice I ordered Mutton Tikka Masala and a couple naan breads to dip in the sauce. (a standard by this point in the trip).

As I waited for my dinner I sat reflecting on my last 34 years of life. I always had this little slogan that life starts at 35. It was a bit of a joke and a bit serious at the same time. The theory was that before you turn 35 you don’t yet know what you want, nor do you have the connections or finances to get yourself there. Gazing at my palace glowing in the background I was content that I had achieved all three of these things and could now jump feet first into the deep end of life (Not that I wasn’t swimming in the deep end up to this point in my life. Now it is just a different pool)

My daydream was broken by my waiter who was not carrying my dinner. He was carrying a large piece of chocolate cake with a single, lit candle on it (pictured above). He was accompanied by the restaurant manager. When I checked into the hotel one of the questions I had to answer on the registration form was “date or birth”. From this the hotel staff scrambled to sprinkle rose pedals on my bed and placed a fruit plate in my room before I had arrived there. The message was obviously passed to the restaurant and manifested itself in this piece of chocolate cake. The manager welcomed me, wished me a happy birthday and then began to sing a very off key version of traditional american song.

I realized I would be eating dinner in reverse tonight starting with dessert. I made a wish, blew out the candle and dug in. It was a very American piece of cake to my surprise. Dense, chocolaty and rich. I barely finished the cake when my food arrived.

The marasa was delicious. It had a thick and creamy texture. The fact that it was served chilled added another interesting dimension to the dish. Next I dug into the mutton. A slow cooked bit of lamb swimming in a delicious tikka masala sauce. I spent the next 30 minutes nibbling and dipping on my birthday feast savoring every bite. As I cleaned the plates I leaned back in my over sized chair with the last of my kingfisher beer in my hand and peeked up to the sky. Completely satiated I though to myself, “Now that is the way to start life.”

Choosing one “best” meal is very tough, as you could imagine. As we always say on this blog, meals are just as much about where you are and who you’re with than what you are eating. For this post I am going to suppress that thinking just a touch and focus heavily on the food.

Needless to say I ate a lot in India. But, as I recounted the many meals I consumed, one stood out among the rest. Well, three stood out actually. Did you really think I was going to be able to choose just one? My saving grace is that the three meals come from the same restaurant. I was in the town of Palolem in Goa. A few of my friends had told me to seek out a fish restaurant on the beach. After asking around a bit I was directed several times to Dropadi, a sand floored, thatched roof, open air restaurant abutting the ocean that keeps a huge chalkboard of daily specials as its centerpiece. The big board, as I had come to know it, was the only thing I needed to read when I sat down at a table. The regular menu seems superfluous after you read the first 5 lines of the 25 line specials board. The food here is so damn tasty and fresh that I ate here all three nights I was in Palolem.

Night 1
I started out with a large, ice cold kingfisher beer as I bellied up to the outer bar of the restaurant. The bar looks right out onto the beach and straight into the ocean. A great place to watch the sunset and fill your belly as well as watch the locals and tourists interact. The first item ordered off the board were fish papeds. Papeds are just like pappedam, the flat and crunch indian bread, only they roll and stuff them before frying them. There was a list of 5 types. I ordered the fish. I didn’t care to know what type of fish because everything at Dropadi comes out of the ocean only hours before. With a dip in the hot sauce the papeds were the perfect compliment to my cold beer.

Next I ordered some tandoori tiger prawns. These you can order by the piece. I disobeyed my stomach and held my self at two. The fish was super fresh and the spices were perfectly fused to them from the wet heat in the tandoor.

Next up was tikka masala red snapper(pictured at top). I love red snapper. Maybe my favorite fish. Choosing something else was not really an option after my eyes saw that on the specials board. The snapper was super moist and meaty. I have never had such a thick, meaty piece of snapper. I was looking for bones in disbelief because of the thickness of the pieces. None to be found. Again the tikka masala spices were perfectly graphed to the fish creating mouth watering bites every single time. My taste buds were on over load instantly and consistently until every last piece of fish was in my belly. I augmented this course with a fresh naan that I would use to occasionally wrap around a piece of fish and soak up any spices that had fallen to the plate.

Night 2
Sitting in the same spot as I did the night before I ordered the crab soup off the big board and a kingfisher to accompany it.

Up next was a mountain of mixed fish tikka masala. I know what you are thinking, “Isn’t that the same thing you had the night before? Why would you do that?” Well, I’ll tell you. First, the night before was so damn good, how could I go wrong. Second, I wanted to give the tikka masala preparation a second try and see if it measured up or was just a fluke of super tasty goodness. Third, when you really get down to it the spices in india are very similar. When you add in the tandoor oven, things start tasting even more similar. So the real hero in some dishes is the bulk. In this case the fish. As I said, the fish comes straight out of the sea hours before so trying the mixed tikka would get me a nice cross section of the daily catch.

On the above plate I had prawns, squid, octopus, mussels, clams, snapper and some kingfish. I opted for rice instead of a flat bread this time because, as I was informed by a semi local, southern indians eat rice not bread.

After leaving the restaurant satiated yet again, I decided to stop by the liquor shop to try the local spirit fenny. Fenny is a high octane, cashew schnapps like booze. You can drink it or remove paint with it, your choice. Not for the faint of heart.

Night 3
On my third night I needed a long meal. I had spent all day traveling and exploring the spice farm and I was ready to relax and let me mind drift off. Once again I found a spot at the beach bar section of Dropadi and ordered a cold one. This time a Kings. The beer arrived just in time for a beautiful sunset.

First up tonight was another order of papeds. This time shrimp papeds. Delicious again. The wrap was a little chewier this time, which I liked a lot.

The main course this evening would be curry crab. I had been waiting for the last 2 nights to get some of this fresh crab but they had either run out of crab or only had giant options left in the bucket. I could have made friends but with the way I eat I figured that might turn ugly. After I ordered one of the waiters brought a box to my table. I peeked inside and saw three crabs of various sizes, their claws bound to their bodies with twine. He instructed me to pick one. I choose a bright blue medium sized one. The waiter scurried off to introduce him to the pan.

Before I knew it the waiter was back with the giant plate of curry crab above. The crab was semi cleaned and cracked so I knew I would be getting dirty. Having anticipated this I ordered three naan breads, plenty to dip, wipe and soak up all that delicious curry.

I dug right in attacking the crab with warrior like intensity. I became so involved in my task of extracting pieces of meat from the hard, blue, curry covered shells that I paid little attention to my surroundings. Crack, pull, dip, bite, swallow, repeat. I continued my frenzy of crab and naan eating until my plate looked like this.

I had been so consumed that I failed to realized that I created a bit of a scene with the way I attacked my plate. A good portion of the restaurant was looking over at me. I could only imagine what they were thinking. My guess was they had never scene such a frenzy so I leaned back and made eye contact with the nearest, staring patron and said, “That was really good” To bring some class back to myself I ordered a chai tea and sat quietly sipping until most of the restaurant had left. This new friend had landed next to me for company as I sipped since all my onlooking friends had left.

I still don’t know what kind of insect he was but he was highly intelligent. You can tell by the size of his head. No much of a conversationalist though. I enjoyed the company none the less.

This video captures the extensive stands and stalls that make up the ubber colorful Mysore Market. I spent 2 days in Mysore sucking up the history, landmarks, architecture and food. The market was the best I found in all of India. By day two I had my chai guy, chalk guy and kitchen utensil vendors calling me by name. A good food market is always at the heart of any great town and this definitely exceeded my expectations.