Pink Chili

Looking for a car this past weekend, I stumbled into a Halloween Monster truck Rally. Cars. When you’re looking for a car, suddenly they all become so interesting. The more I read this, the more what you drive seemingly becomes a moral decision. Driving used to seem so freeing. Did you remember that mind whammy accompaning your first solo drive… leaven the confinement of parent dictated travel. Driven then was celebration. If my next car could just catch a glimpse of that, not quite in this way but maybe soma that --- just enough of that former road glory could be regained to make the gas sucking schlep tolerable.

Our lives’ barometers. They crop up in the most unexpected places. T’other night I had some harmonious moments strung together in the kitchen: measured in minutes, 120 of them. Inspired by my favorite freshly barred barrister, or maybe she’s a solicitor, (either way she reads briefs and regardless she’s an attorney). Now that we’re confused the meal was chili to be sure. Chili that looked and tasted so good it seared into my mind, a formerly chililess mind.

Now this dish, this pink chili, (the photograph above doesn’t nearly translate the flavor bud popping goodness), is an exceptional specimen; exceptional being meant not only as exemplary but rare. To be honest though, the whole meal was actually a glorious debacle. I was trying to make the barrister’s chili and combine it with a side of my roommate’s sweet potato sliced carrot mash-up but non-selective selective memory made for a wonky imitation.

So initially following a recipe, I spiced it like chili (coriander, cumin, chili powder, pepper), but then somewhere in the turning to the rotating contents within the fridge and cutting vegetables, all sorts of ingredients such as the usual onions, garlic, tomatoes and yellow peppers went in , plus the expected, queso, beans (red and pink), but then the unusual, beats (source of pinkness), corrots, broccoli, turnips, brussel sprouts, spinach, potatoes, honey and dill. Now maybe those ingredients aren’t so unexpected, I don’t know, because like cars, chili is new to my radar. But on these rain swept cool weather autumn days, the soothing belly warmth of chili might just be labeled edifying.


Rumor also has it T-ra put on another year, Happy Birthday

A Culinary Odyssey

So my parents just left after a 10 day visit, and 10 afternoons and evenings of eating out resulted in some pretty exemplerary culinary experiences. The highlights:

My dad wanted to try Milanesa, which is one of the staples of Argentine cuisine. It is, essentially, beef sliced very thin, battered in egg and breadcrumbs, then fried and I think ALSO baked--at least that's how my host family's housekeeper makes it, and hers is good. So I googled "best milanesa Buenos Aires" and came up with, suprise, surprise, an American food blog. A great blog, that is to say, called Matt Bites, and the recommendation for Milanesa was spot on--a really old-fashioned place that has stood its ground in the trendiest neighborhood of the city. We went one afternoon and had the best Milanesa I've had so far--flavorful beef, well seasoned bread crumbs, perfect proportion of meat-to-coating--along with Italian-style rolls, thick-cut french fries, and a salad of lettuce, tomato, and carrot, washed down with a 3/4 liter of Quilmes, the Argentine national beer, followed by a cafe (which equals espresso here) for my dad and a cortado for me (a cortado being an espresso with a splash of steamed milk).

Another afternoon was spent at one of the better known, bare bones parillas (grills) of Buenos Aires, where we had: asado de tira, which are beef ribs cut the long way, which is the Argentine way, and then grilled, of course, a salad of lettuce, tomato, and beets, french fries Provencal--with chopped garlic and parsley--bread, and, of course, more Quilmes. My dad loved Quilmes. This was his favorite meal but he couldn't stop looking over at the Argentines at the table next to us, who were having a seemingly neverending meal, alternating courses of meat and pasta. He liked the idea of having steak and pasta together--very Italian, he kept saying--which inspired the next meal I'll describe, which was probably my favorite:

We spent the day in this absurdly serene and picturesque farm/artisan town about two hours northwest of the city, called San Antonio de Areco. Lunch was in a beautiful, rustic parilla, sitting at the back next to a big window that opened into a sunny garden. We had the house salad, which consisted of lettuce, tomato, onions, peppers, red cabbage, and white cabbage, a plate of homemade egg tagliatelle with a simple, delicious tomato sauce, a big skirt steak, bread, mineral water, and Quilmes, with coffee for dessert. Afterwards we walked to the town museum, which is just about the only thing that doesn't close for siesta, and took a siesta of our own on some rocking chairs on the patio of the museum farmhouse. Later: ice cream. I had a refreshing limon (it was really, really hot outside) and dulce de leche granizado, which is dulce de leche-flavored ice cream with chocolate shavings mixed in.

One night we really wanted pasta--Buenos Aires has a rep for good Italian food--so we tried this place my host mother, and a guide book, recommended. We ordered three different kinds and couldn't decide which was worse--they were all truly heinous. My dad's spinach gnocchi might as well have been little pieces of green foam drenched in cream. My mom's pumpkin ravioli were rubbery, the filling completely tasteless--also drenched in cream and some chopped walnuts. Mine didn't even RESEMBLE Italian food--"whole wheat spaghetti with portobello mushrooms" turned out to be incredibly greasy, slippery noodles with mushrooms but also scallions, which tasted like a really average lo-mein, and then topped with parmesan--gross.

The next night, we tried again. This time I looked up a place on the B.A. equivalent of the Zagat Guide, Guia Oleo. Good decision--this time the pasta was extraordinary. I had homemade vegetable fettucine with mixed vegetables, chicken, and fresh basil, my dad had a spinach ravioli topped with warm chopped tomatoes and fresh basil, my mom had squid-ink and sundried tomato ravioli filled with crabmeat.

Buen provecho!

Apizza

Go to the grocery store last night and I didn’t know what I was buying. Some of everything but afterwards the run and shoot Kitchen offence was one of those divine rhythms otherwise reserved to art.

Everything that crossed the counter-top could do no wrong, ingredients just assembled themselves. Tomatoes into sauce, herbs and onions onto beans, brocs, shrooms, shredded carrots, kale, cheddar, Colby, moz all tumbled outta grocery bags across cutting boards under knives and onto spinning olive oil soaked dough. The oven warrants preheating this whole time (as high as it’ll go), especially if you’re living in an Antarctic apartment like those of us who are trying to beat last October’s heating bill with a sans heat strategy.

The wheels, to borrow a term if I may, blaze. Were talking five alarm. To add some kerosene, we chased that baby with some chocolate chip ricotta roll but that’s deserving of a post unto itself. For some omega-3 fatty acids, half a Za, (or due to the shape of our pans: rectangles), got some Mahi-Mahi.

The fat lady sings…

Can Guiness Count as Dinner?

OK so yesterday was not the best day for eating; in fact, I can't attribute my obama-like figure to my absurdly fast metabolism anymore if I'm going to eat like I did yesterday.

I had an early morning court date and skipped breakfast cause I was later than Rizzo after a night with Kenickie (zing!). Lunch was pretty blaze though. I went to this spot called Free Foods and had a small pice of salmon topped with pucini mushrooms, swordfish with grape tomatoes and yellow bell peppers, a carmelized potato wrapped in steak, and some penne with tuna. Dessert was a chocholate swirl cheesecake from Magnolia's with a chocolate pudding-like center. It was otherwordly.

Met someone for drinks after work and since I knew dinner wasn't happening soon I consciously ordered a Guiness (well, five of 'em actually) in order to keep my calorie count up there. I eventually got a piece of pizza late night once I was back on the UES but hunger remained.

Then this morning was oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar. Work is slow these days so my officemate and I went to Pompano, a Mexican restaurant on 49th and 3rd. Apparently there's a nice restaurant and a more casual foodcourt but we hit up the restaurant. I had a sort of seafood paella: octopus, squid, scallops, and shrimp over cilantro rice in a coconut sauce. BLAZE. Sara got the skirt steak with portobello mushroom and garlic-chorizo mashed potatoes. Also blaze.

Mi Amicci

Last night, which probably more counts as early this morning, a baseball game was chased with some tunes; and though the Bosox have been stinkin’ up the field, the Pixies never sounded better. Twas a good evening, the scent of fall flowing in through KiKi’s ever open windows, Michelangelo on the couch under a blankie, and myself alternating between basil hayden infused mint juleps and a fine (Polish perhaps, maybe Czech) larger (or was it ale?) whose label as well as most events of the evening, appear as hazy as Kiki's apartment appeared through a curtain of Danish cigarillo smoke rings.

ahhh, its been awhile fellow friends in food and I see that during this hiatus your tables been graced with some fine cuisine. I’ve been very much waylaid, two funerals, a wedding, some simultaneous exhibitions, a 5th birthday party and the van’s been acting up ever since we tricked her out. Such are the spins in the wash cycle of life. Not too worry though, despite these diversions, I haven’t let my culinary explorations nor media voyeurism slide; details of which I’ll later divuldge

Absolutely remarkable, beautiful outside today. This one goes out to you mother nature.
Breakfast=Oats w/ apple, almonds, granola, pear, raison, honey, flax seed, yogurt & leche
Lunch=Soup w celery and chocolate (not inside but beside the soup)
Dinner=black beans, cabbage, turnips, coriander, dill, pepper, garlic & honey (because all my teeth are sweet) spread over pasta fusilli and a spinkling of queso

For an exciting snore, don’t miss tonight’s debate…
My friends, no pork barrel earmark shall freeze us mavericks from
standing by the fundamentals of my record of bipartisan reining in of a shepard’s hatchet to firmly sit down on a bailout package that further scalpels the taxpayers who are struggling to put food on their skyrocketing tables.

Buona Fortuna Amores

Fall Feast for Foodies

The fall foliage has begun setting trees alight and frolicking at our feet. What better time to gather around a table adorned with gourd votives, baby pumpkins, american sycamore and white ash leaves, crimson napkins, burnt umber candles, and diminutive arrangements of sienna-hued roses?

We're hosting a fall feast for foodies. Bring your favorite autumnal apple treats, gastronomical gourd dishes, savory short-ribs, mouthwatering mushroom risottos and robust red wines. We'll provide a few delicious dishes as well as mulled wine and hot apple cider.

If you're in the area (Hartford, CT), consider yourself invited! Brie and I conceived of this plan but haven't picked a date. Anyone have any brilliant ideas as to when we should do this? Sometime in November seems best.

Spanish Harlem is the New East Village

For breakfast yesterday I had my staple Oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar -- although Dunhill raised the price from $2.75 to $3.0o. You think this will help? OK, maybe a bit anachronistic.

For lunch I had a sandwich with cured ham, french gruyere, and mornay sauce on sourdough. My officemate and I split our desserts so half of a creamcheese brownie and half of a huge, honey-covered baklava.

For dinner I ate at this awesome little Franco-Mexican spot called Itzocan Bistro on 101st and Lex. I had Crepes with wild mushrooms, huitlacoche, brie cheese and truffle oil. Magnificent.

Morning meetings are the worst. I missed breakfast this morning and all I had was watered down White & Case-provided-so-I-can't-complain-coffee. Around 11AM hit up my new little lunchtime hotspot, Dishes, and got a duck confit sandwich with french brie, arugula, harissa aioli ('member I told you 'bout harissa last week!), port fig spread on toasted ciabatta. Arborio rice pudding for dizert. Although my job is whacksauce, I'm gonna miss eating like this...