A week or so ago, I bought a pint of thick, full-fat Greek-style plain yogurt. I planned on making the most mouthwatering, yet-undiscovered frozen yogurt flavor, but had no idea what it would be. A week of contemplation went by. What about a fresh, spicy ginger flavor with brown sugar? Maybe those sour cherries can be cooked down to a syrup and swirled in. What if I threw blueberry cobbler pieces into it with mascarpone cheese?
Water, water, everywhere! To worship the wettest Wednesday we’ve seen in New York, I decided to whip up this watery dish for the weekend. [Signal applause for alliteration.] In all seriousness, though, we had one whale of a washout!
I digress… I don’t really think of myself as an all-American girl, being a New Jersey-bred half-breed who grew up mostly on stir-fry. It was a long time until I had a meal that was all baked in one casserole dish, and wasn’t dessert. I didn’t like many of these American classics at first, encountered at friends’ houses or potlucks. And whose crazy idea was it, anyway, to cook a whole dish in the oven in one pan? A genius … Read More
Not really, silly. The word “Manhattan” here, of course, simply stands in for “tomato-based,” and though there may be who-knows-how-many similar vegetable soups enjoyed on the island of Manhattan, mine has never graced its turf. Yet while I may be slightly offish about Manhattan, I am not adverse to clams; my boyfriend is. Like relationships, it’s funny how some recipes begin: I had a craving for something soupy this week. (Most people I know avoid hot soups like the plague … Read More
Sometimes I just want to retreat to a vegetable paradise. Where I can, you know, peel potatoes in a grass skirt and roll around in fields of cornsilk to the tunes of Cat Stevens. I get this feeling especially after visiting a midsummer farmers’ market, soaking in the blissful variety and radiance of all the produce. It’s not so much a sensation of hunger that I get as it is of admiration and awe, similar to visiting a museum. That … Read More
What a week it’s been. Working and barely playing when it’s nice out for me always adds up to a slow way to count the weekdays. But luckily, a blissful way to end it came in the form of the second Foodie Book Club meeting at The Brooklyn Kitchen, where we tried to speak intelligently about Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin‘s bible of epicurean philosophy, The Physiology of Taste, as translated and annotated by America’s pioneering gastronome, M.F.K. Fisher. (It is a … Read More
Three words: Smoked Monterey Jack. A creamy composite of dove-complexioned tenderness on the inside, roughed up to a bronze smokehouse char on the outside. Not as piquant as smoked cheddar, or slightly spongy like smoked Gouda. It’s more like a mouthful of pure, cool summer barbecue breeze, the kind that wafts into your window from the neighbors’ yard and tantalizes you like crazy because you’re not invited.
Last week I reached for a jar on the back of the refrigerator door, knocked over the marinated artichoke hearts — the cap must have been lazily placed on top rather than screwed on — and spilled artichoke juice all over three shelves and the floor of the fridge. It didn’t smell half bad. Tonight, I intentionally did much the same to this simple spinach salad — that is, didn’t bother whisking up any dressing. Nada. It wasn’t half bad, … Read More
There is always a good way to use up leftover bread in Tuscany and that, of course, I applaud. Or should I say aspire to. I toast to that good food conscience. Whatever. The point is: panzanella. It sounds like the sweet baby girl name that you would never choose for fear she would take it as permission to wear skin-tight tube skirts and ride on the backs of motorcycles with guys named Marco whenever she’d tell you she was … Read More
Two summers ago it was a bar on Columbia St., at the “edge of Cobble Hill,” called the B61 that I went to every spare happy hour I had and ordered a tall pint glass of bartender Jamie’s magnificent Bloody Marys. Two parts homemade Bloody Mary mix heavy on the horseradish, one part vodka, a splash of Guinness straight from the tap, spice seasoning on the rim of the glass, cracked black pepper at the bottom, three olives speared with … Read More