A civilized smoke in Montvale

Whenever Tony Santana throws a cigar event I go. For a couple reasons. The location is usually someplace I'm not familiar with but one which I'm glad to add to my roster. Tony's promoter - Rob Menaker does a thorough job publicizing the events, which means a good showing and a fun crowd. Serious thought is put into pairing the libation with the cigar, so you get a great free taste of wine, spirits or beer with the cigar.

Wednesday's event was at the Porterhouse in Montvale, NJ. Attractive looking old-style Tudor exterior with a casual interior reminiscent of old country pubs. I could just imagine a huntsman popping in for a quick pint while leaving his hounds keening by the outdoor fireplace. The main dining room is cordoned off for a smoke-free experience. The bar area, behind thick wood doors and well ventilated offers the thirsty smoker a place to hunker down, grab a bite of decent bar food and smoke away. Best bets are the steaks, and you guessed it - the porterhouse.

The Porter House
125 Kinderkamack Road
Montvale, New Jersey 07645
201-307-6300

More than Stone Ponies in Asbury Park

Late September in Jersey. A chance glance at a billboard in Rutherford. It reads: Asbury Oyster Festival. Never heard of it but what the hell? Oysters, perhaps a few sausage sandwiches, a zeppole or 5, the relics of Bruce Springsteen's beloved town. Why not?

The weather kicked up a fuss by drizzling till 3ish. But by then the football games were mostly over, the sun peeked between watery clouds and people were ready for oyster time. I came for oysters on the half shell, but they weren't stationed at the bottom of Cookman Ave on which the festival was held so we worked our way past the stalls: oyster stew, obligatory sausage & pepper sandwiches, cigar stands, Stone Pony t-shirts. It was interesting to see the resurgence of an art and food revival on this main strip. Quite a few furniture galleries, kitschy home good stores with unique items. And of course the restaurants.

We popped into the local megabar to evade the rain and catch a play or two of the Jets and/or Giants game. The Brickwall is a cavernous family destination with oodles of kid friendly seating and a proper bar for the diehard sports fans. We snacked on beef and American cheese sliders, wilted hot peppers and fries. With the rain dying down we struck out for oyster gold. Instead we found a decently meaty lobster roll with the properly toasted & buttered bun and washed it down with a cup of beer, champagne for me as I still cherished the hope of a half shelled beauty. We passed up a oyster po' boy stand, which I later regretted. Finally, in what appeared to be the center of town we spied heavy oyster activity: friend oyster and clams, chowder and hallejah! oysters on the half shell.

Perhaps I built myself up for disappointment, or as proper research later proved, I didn't have the variety best suited to my taste. Apparently I'm a brine hound and the ones served were watery, wussified oysters most probably Beausoleils from PEI. Gimme a Wellfleet anyday. To wash down our disappointment we popped into a small joint that would fit in easily in the West Village. The Harrison boasted $5 martinis, I had a Champagne and green apple DeKuyper which chased down a very delectable crabcake and a surprisingly sweet shrimp cake.

The bar scene was hopping at The Harrison, boasting an attractive 40 something crowd. We chatted with Linda and Ted, a local couple who generously shared their historical knowledge of Asbury and the beach towns of Jersey. Didn't hurt that they were educated foodies and prone to dropping restaurant names. One caught my ear - Langosta Lounge directly on the boardwalk. But before heading seaward I had to make a stop.

Springsteem immortalized an Asbury fortune teller by the name of Madame Marie in his 1988 hit 4th of July with the ever classic line: "Did you hear the cops finally busted Madame Marie for tellin' fortunes better than they do." I knew she had passed away last year but I didn't know her legacy was carried on by her granddaughter Sabrina. As diligent pupil of the metaphysical arts I just had to pay her a visit. On first impression she looks like a young girl with a very pretty face, but upon closer contact you can see her tired eyes. I've heard the expression; Insight has a price. Sabrina's living proof. She read my palm and although I would have liked to talk more (I know, so unusual) the throng of eager patrons awaiting their fortunes prevented me from a deeper reading.

Just before sunset we walked to the boardwalk, past deserted decaying Asbury shrines, past the Stone Pony. Dogs frolicked on the beach with owners determined to prolong the season. Joggers, bikers, yuppy parents with kiddies in tow all traversed the newly rebuilt boardwalk. With the exception of a few odd looking characters, perhaps remnants of the city's practice to dump the mentally disabled into decrepit B&Bs as halfway houses, the boardwalk could have resided in a posher town.

Then to the much anticipated Langosta Lounge. Locals swoon over the audaciously funky menu executed under the hands of chef Marilyn Schlossbach. She appears to be a local culinary hero and with good reason. Undoubtedly seafood themed, Langosta manages to merge a funky bar scene with serious dining. Decor-wise it reminds me a bit of the old Live Bait on 23rd Street, without the annoying model influences. The cuisine is a tasting menu of port of calls: Asian, Mexican, Spanish, Caribbean. The owners obviously like to travel and bring back the best flavor concepts to their kitchen. We start with a handful of fried olives and a salad of grilled sweet, red veined vidalia onions and yellow peppers over baby arugula with a chipolte, agave vinaigrette and sprinkled with pistachio nuts.

I drink a vodka martini and for the first time this summer I find the size of the olive not an indicator of it's brininess. Matter of fact these are a bit squishy and watery, as if they've been sitting in ice water for a few days. The Pinot Noir stands well on it's own with great expectations that it will shine when paired with our entree, Lobster Enchiladas. You have the option of mole or a fiery Diablo sauce. We opt for fire power and get it in aces. Luckily the fat sweet chunks of lobster counterpoint the heat, as does the black rice and beans. Dessert is a melty chocolate cake with baffling blue whipped cream and a candle for my friend's birthday. We wind down with exceptional coffee in a graciously large mug before heading out of town.

In all, Asbury overshadowed the Oyster festival, luring me with it's engagingly adult population and gems of culinary delight. I shall be back.

A lesson in Pork Fat

Friday nights are sacred to girlfriend night. Lovely way to reconnect after a long week, feed the need for whatever we're craving and then to dance it off. While being an ex- Hobokenite I hadn't really savored the culinary haunts for 10 years, during my unfortunate venture to the 'burbs. But last Friday we were feeling 'boken and jetted down Route 3 to my pal's fave restaurant - Lua.

I kept hearing about gorgeous it was, how fab the food was, how great the crowd was. This from a restauranteur, so I knew I'd have to experience it for myself. First a cocktail at the bar, the benchmark for any good joint is the quality of their drinks. And Lua's don't disappoint. Slightly dirty Martini with fat, firm olives. No pimento, thank you! My friends had a sugar free Mojito and Ketel One straight up. Happily the young bartender was able to keep up with our finicky taste buds.

Appetizers were a arugula salad decently dressed with a simple oil and lemon vinaigrette topped by a somewhat dry goat cheese encrusted wafer and an Ecuadorian shrimp ceviche in a tomato and lime marinara dressing. While refreshing, I would have preferred a slightly deeper bite in the form of fresh chilies, preferably a fruity jalepeno.

The mains were outstanding; Angela had seared tuna slabs over dressed greens while Mary and I shared Pernil. Now this was not just Pernil, this was an entire shoulder of pork, heavily seasoned and roasted for God knows how long until buttery fork tender served over a bed of black seasoned rice and testones. Despite my picadillo for thinking testones sound awfully like testosterone or a part of the lower male anatomy, these plaintains were cooked and then fried till carmelized and starchy sweet. The showstopper for pernil, as any good Latino will tell you is the crust of pork fat that is allowed to remain on the shoulder while the bad boy is slowly cooked. The result? A hardened shell of crunchy, salty, fatty skin that permeates the meat to impart succulence while offering the unshy eater a crusty treat. I went for it right away.

I was prepared for the porky salinity, but not the wave of pure unadulterated lard that oozed beneath the crust. Yet I ate it, and kept eating it till halted by a wave of hot of nauseau made me take cover with a sip of vodka. Restored I plunged into the dark shoulder meat, lushly gushing with juices. Mind you, I ate a mere salad for lunch so I felt totally justified digging away till sated.

Jean Pierre our patient waiter (with his mother's name tatooed on his forearm, take that Bart Simpson!) generously treated us to a trio of desserts. Apple tart with vanilla bean ice cream, dulce de leche custard and chocolate lava cake with a scoop of chocolate ice cream. All worthy of their impeccable presentation.

It would have been a sin to discard the delectable remains of pernil, so I had no choice but to pack it to go. Sunday morning I popped the meat between a hero roll, the sides of which were slathered with mayo and threw in a condiment of hot pepper rings and a few slices of plum tomatoes to keep me honest. I toasted the bad boy on the griddle with a heavy pan atop for my impromptu Cuban sandwich.

As much as I longed for another hit of porcine fat, I turned my face away and gave the dog the last few remaining shards of Pernil crust. We've both been eating raw veggies ever since.

Lua
1300 Sinatra Drive North
Hoboken, New Jersey 07030
Phone: 201.876.1900

Feeling Caribbean?

Labor day weekend and it's Godmother central. My neice, her mom and the 3 Godmothers all converge for a celebration of food, music, drink, gabbing, and...more food. To honor the baby's Latin heritage we dine at La Estrella Del Caribe (Star of the Caribbean) a Puerto Rican/Dominican themed restaurant. Radha the mom devours Chuleta Frita - seasoned pork chops fried on the bone. Godmother 1 - Polly sighs over shrimp fajitas, sweetly sizzling and fragrant with non a traditional Mexican marinade. Godmother 2 - Patty savors the classic Arroz con Pollo and Godmother 3 - I happily crunch on Pernil - marbled with indecent amounts of pork butt fat. The baby tries all of it but prefers flirting with the male waiters to food. Hmmmm. Must come from her father's side of the family, since nothing takes precedence over food to a Ched female.

La Estrella Del Caribe
875 Paterson Plank Road
Secaucus, NJ 07094
201-863-3223

100 Things to Eat Before You Die

I wrote this piece several years ago during the PR flurry surrounding Patricia Schutlz's bestseller - 1000 Places to See Before You Die. Of course eating, not seeing consumes my thoughts before my eventual expiration. I'm replaying it again cause it's such good fun and it's good to refresh my memory of culinary gems. Let's start with the first 10.

1. The molten chocolate cake at Legal Seafoods
2. Sangria at Cibeles in Lyndhurst, NJ (fruit qualifies it as food)
3. My mother's 10 vegetable biryani
4. The seared tuna at the Twisted Vine in Santa Rosa, CA
5. Masala dosa from the shop next to the taxi stand in Nuzvid, India
6. The pumpkin ravioli at La Dolce Vita in Soho, NY
7. Roasted salmon in a sweet pea puree from Max's, Brattleboro Vermont
8. The lobster roll from the food shack next to Plymouth Rock, MA
9. Ledo's pizza in Silver Spring, MD. Plain cheese, no toppings
10. My chicken curry.

Would love to hear about your favorite eats.

Boutique Indian in Jersey City

When American Masala opened in April 09 we weren't sure if it was a club, a bar or a restaurant. But the host assured us the spanking new Indian eatery was open for lunch. The sleek lines of this new venue make it easy to confuse it with a club as does the groovy Rave music piped into the sound system. Spartan looking but comfy cafeteria style lime and tangerine chairs, tiny individual flower decanters and nifty lighting, Oh-so-city. Especially engaging is the wall art, blowup pix from the owner's upstate farm: pile of cardamoms, gangly goats, a dazzling array of chickens and emerald pastures.

Then there's the cafeteria ordering system where a diner queues to the counter, orders from the menu and seats him or herself. The food is brought to you minutes later, presumably already prepared from the kitchen. It's a rapid, if odd system. Given the attractiveness of the restaurant it might be more pleasant to be served while seated.

The menu is ideally short for the lunch crowd. Standouts include the Ribbon Fries - slivers of potatoes fried and spiced with condiments and herbs. The burgers are reliable however I find the curries oddly sweet and overly aggressive with aromatics such as cardamom. The Pistachio pound cake hits the right note and the Coconut Chocolate bars are delish. Takeout orders come in cute brown picnic boxes. American Masala does happy hour every evening as well, serving light Indian snacks with full bar cocktails.

American Masala
95 Greene Street
Jersey City, NJ 07302

Sushi for the Summer

Yes it's torridly hot out but one must eat. Sushi is the perfect solution - chilled but well flavored salads, rolls, fish dishes. Even the hot pots don't overwhelm in size or scope. Blue Chili (Siam Inn) offers the best of cool Japanese eats with surprise hot (read fire and spice) Thai dishes.

We sit at the Sushi bar. The music is Buddha Bar groovy. The decorations Blade Runner futuristic blue & whites, (without the spattered blood). The menu might be construed as a cheesy melange of Japanese/Thai, attempting to cater to the spectrum of Asian cuisine. But it works. Mostly because of the fresh ingredients, exceptional yellowfin, mango, lime juice, papaya, salmon skin.

I start off with a superbly tempura-ed softshell crab atop a green papaya salad tossed with peanuts, garlic, chili and lime. The dressing is so refreshing I drizzle more and more over slivers of chilled papaya. Apps continue with petite slabs of Yellowfin topped with freshly shaved jalapeno rounds dressed in a sweet soy-based sauce. So good - we order a second round. Mains are a combination of rolls served with a mayo chili condiment we manage to guzzle and slurp with chopsticks.

Dinner's over but eyeing a fellow diner's meal I order the Salmon Crunch - really an appetizer but hearty enough to qualify as a main. Tempura battered salmon & crab roll is deep fried and with a spicy chili sauce. Unfortunately the drink we select to accompany dinner doesn't prove such a winner. Green apple Sake that tastes like apple juice and looks like an Apple Martini a 17 year-old might order. It's sickly sweet, barely chilled and despite the 750 ml size, doesn't induce one iota of a buzz.

Dessert brings redemption. Green tea ice cream is my friend's safe best. Whereas I'm dazzled by the thought of a trio of creme brulees: vanilla, green tea & coffee. They come out in tiny ramekins. The sugar crust is not so overzealously hardened that I need a jackhammer to penetrate to reach the custard. Rather it's nicely browned - barely concealing the trio of custards. Green tea first, it's cool with hints of chocolate. The coffee proves irresistible and I wallow in with my tiny spoon so capture all the contents of the demi pot. Vanilla is so whitebread I skip it entirely. To top it off, the bill proves quite affordable for two. 1 bottle of sake, 3 appetizers, 2 entrees and 2 desserts for just over $100.

Blue Chili (Siam Inn)
251 W. 51st Street
NY, NY 10019
212-246-3330

In a town formerly known as East Patterson

Elmwood Park, formerly East Patterson is trying to distance itself from it's not so illustrious past. Case in point the updated strip of shops on Market Street beckon to a commuter crowd accustomed to city eating. Mulberry's Bar and Grill offers a welcome layer of sophistication to diners jonesing for more than suburban pasta.

The small menu consists of a dozen appetizers, a few salads and a healthy selection of sandwiches. The daily specials could consist of osso buco one day, chicken simmered in wine or a pasta dish.

Standouts starters include quarterd figs atop wisps of proscuitto drizzled with honey. The thinly shaved proscuitto melts in your mouth while the fig adds smokey depth and the honey floral sweetness. Another winner is the goat cheese fritters. Airy goat cheese is lightly breaded and flash fried so the exterior is crunchy but not greasy. They sit atop roughly sliced onions caramelized in oil and vinegar. and a mound of greens dressed in tangy vinaigrette. Not so great are the chicken wings but then this isn't a greasy sports bar and their attention focuses on the more esoteric dishes.

While the specials are always worth a nod, the sandwiches deserve attention as they are composed of pristine ingredients; tuna, rare sliced steak, sweet turkey breast.

The wine and beer lists are limited. Bottles of most domestic beer sare available with a few varieties of wines by the glass and bottle. However the bartenders are innovative with their cocktails and any incarnation of a citified drink is replicable.

Worthy of special note is the chef who takes pride in his creations and pleasure discussing the menu, accepting suggestions with grace.

A welcome attractive venue in Elmwood Park, even though it really is East Patterson.

Mulberrys Bar & Grill
158 Market St.
Elmwood Park, NJ 07407
(201) 475-5700

Still digging the lower east side food scene

Used to be I'd hit the lower east side for a fix. No, not meth or heroin or skunky weed. Nah, for cheap Tequila at the original Coyote Ugly, still on 9th and 1st. Still has a great jukebox, dartboards and gorgeously snarly waitresses who've been wronged by life. And no, it's not like the movie (which was shot at Red Rocks in the meatpacking west side). Matter of fact before the movie was even a glimmer in Piper Perabo's eye Coyote was where my cousin Yve and I would down unGodly amounts of Tequila and dis men.

Of course the east village is also where I go for a great, cheap meal in a usually small and requisitely funky venue. Things haven't changed that much. Second Ave still swarms with crowds - many of whom are excitingly tatooed and pierced - dining al fresco in front of English phone booths or in tiny shops no wider than a subway car.

Bar Carrera 2 is one such joint (2 because of it's sister location in the West Village). Suffering from a single Espresso Martini induced hangover (damn that sugar!) my stomach felt inclined to fill itself with salty, fatty treats - damn the damage to my thighs or sweet red arteries. My dining partner is my femme buddy Karen - a seasoned New Yorker. The fact that both of us worked at Sherry-Lehmann as wine consultants, followed by her stint at Merrills means we're a bit finicky when it comes to the grape. Luckily Carrera provides a handsome wine list comprised of mainly Spanish wines that pairs admirably with the Tapas style menu.

We shared Jamon wrapped dates stuffed with almonds. The chewy date added the perfect counterpoint to the salty, jerky-like ham and the almond was a nice textural surprise. Sauteed tiger shrimp and chorizo was a very small plate (2 orders) on a toothpick with a briney banana pepper. Torilla del dia was the standard potato and egg at room temperature. The vine-ripened tomato salad with a sherry vinaigrette fed our need for shrubbery while the Plato Combinado (assorted cheeses & meats) eased my hunger for spicy, fatty meat. The surprise favorite of the evening turned out to be a Russian sounding combo of smoked salmon over a slather of mascapone on a toasted brioche drizzled with honey and a sprinkle of black caviar.

As a drinking accompaniment I stuck with a dry Cava - Casteller Brut. Karen tried out a couple wines - Bacasis Blanco from Pla de Bages, the Aforado Albarino from Rias Baixas and Can Blau from Montsant - all 2007.

Overall rating Pros & Cons: lovely food, a bit heavy on the bread in the sandwich type tapas. The smoked salmon a surprise winner. Attentive, helpful bartender. Attractive indoor space however, the music was much too loud. Great wine list however would have preferred stemmed glasses as my sparkling wine got warm with handling.

Bar Carerra
175 Second Avenue
New York, New York 10003
212-375-1555
info@barcarrera.com

A good weekend

My parents are visiting, which means chaos in the kitchen. Mini coolers jam-packed with curries. Whole honeydews, cantelopes, watermelons rolling across the kitchen floor and threatening to knock down the dog like a bowling pin. Quart-sized containers full of Sambaar, Idli batter, homemade yogurt made with Half and Half.

Breakfast Saturday was palm-sized idlis with Sambaar and Mom's famous chutney. South Indian chutney is addictive. My friend Damarys spreads it on toast. I prefer to dip samosas in it. Mom mixes plain white rice and chutney and drizzles a bit of ghee over everything. Peeled and diced mangoes, melons and cherries finished off breakfast.

Had dinner with my GF Julie Lindh. As she's located on 9th Ave in the West 50s, a plethora of terrific ethnic restaurants abound. Dined at Agua Dulce, recently opened as of last week. Featured as a "Pan Asian" restaurant, it's a kitschy throwback to 1950s Miami where you'd expect cigar chugging men wearing cool guayaberas and playing dominoes. Whie the decor might be amusing the food is nothing to laugh at, matter of fact it's fantastic. We started with Citrus Salmon Ceviche - huge chunks of raw salmon bathing in a grapefruit citrus vinaigrette. Shaved slices of habeneros, red onions and segments of citrus give tang and zest to the unctuous salmon. Utterly the best ceviche I've had years. Second only to the cevice at Azucar in Silver Spring, Maryland. Other appetizers were Guacamole with tough and a wee bit stale chips, obviously homemade. The Gauc was fine but could have used more bite and lime. Shrimp empanadas in an orange, sweet yuca dough were tasty but overpowered the seafood inside. The Brazilian seafood stew reminded me of a toned down Tom Yum soup. Mussels, teeny clams, chunks of salmon poached in coconut milk and cashew puree. Although I really couldn't place the cashew - by texture or flavor. Dessert was killer - chocolate ganache cake over which was poured, not drizzled mind you, an entire gravy boat of chocolate habenaro sauce. Crazy good.

Highly recommend Agua Dulce - translation: fresh water. The restaurant houses it's own filtration system and apparently some of the profits go towards funding water systems in Latin America. The filtration system is also evident in the refreshing cocktails. Frozen mojitos, watermelon margaritas - all made with fresh juices and water filtered on the premises. Better yet, at my request for a vodka based mojito our server was glad to comply. Go for the simple but well executed menu by chef Ulrich Sterling. (Who by the way is Irish!) Also noteworthy are the attentive wait staff and busboys who seem to all foster an attitude of: your wish is my command. But especially go for the sinfully delicious dessert - chocolate and habenaro - two aphrodisiacs in one.

Agua Dulce
802 Ninth Avenue & (53rd Street)
New York, NY
Phone (212) 262-1299

City of Excess

Of course Las Vegas caters to the full-blown desires of adults. A grown-up Disneyland, if you will. However I was pleasantly surprised to find the rumors about it's maturity into a culinary mecca entirely true. I'm happy to report the food themepark idea has evolved into a playland of culinary adventures. How could it not with every celebrity chef from Bobby Flay to Thomas Keller establishing an outpost? It could have gone bad, very bad. Egos and the self promotional media machine could have overshadowed the central theme of signature menus. Can't you just see it? Arm wrestle Bobby Flay or See if you can chop faster than Emeril Lagasse.

But it didn't and what you have are sumptuous dining establishments that any Joe Schmo can access. You've got sophisticated menus derived from great chefs unleashing their culinary fantasies to be oogled and rhapsodized over. Think about it. You're a celebrity chef with your own cooking show or at least several cookbooks under your belt. You're well funded by a hospitality empire who asks for the creation of indulgent, over the top menus to be worshipped by every corner of America and beyond.

I was lucky enough to sample just a few of the exceptional foodie offerings. After landing we threw on bathing attire and grabbed a bite at Solaro, a casual outdoor Wolfgang Puck joint. We shared a yellow & red heirloom tomato and mozzarella salad drizzled with a balsamic vinaigrette and an Albacore Tuna salad sandwich. Quite ordinary but worthwhile for the simplicity and attention to detail: the tomatoes were ripe and firm, the mozz exceptionally silky. Both at room temperature! Not just pulled from the fridge, overly chewy or cold.

The highlight of the trip was the concierge service at the Palazzo. Not only did the attendants hook us up with club passes and reservations, the concierge lounge provided a relaxing venue for breakfast & cocktail hour. As always, the vacation kicks off with a cocktail, food or both. In this case a very well shaken Vodka Martini without Vermouth. Gotta say, the olives in Vegas were consistently exceptional: big and meaty.

Dinner was at Tao, kickass as a club but mediocre on food. Despite it's lame attempts to mimic the Buddha Bar, Tao's highlight turned out to be the Buddha greeting one at the bathroom entrance.

Culinary surprise of the trip was dinner at Cut - Wolfgang Puck's steakhouse. We kept it simple. Fillet mignon, mashed potatoes and spinach. I was flabbergasted by the steak, a 10 oz medium rare. Select your own sauce from Mustard, Horseradish, Bearnaise. I chose Armagnac & Green Peppercorn which I generously drizzled over the fist-sized steak. Know the much beloved New York expression, "like butter" but this was crazy. I actually cut the steak with my spoon. Just because I could.

Las Vegas mixologists know their stuff. No namby pamby watery drinks overtopped with sugary juices. No way, nah ah. The ingredients are always impeccable; fresh olives, large succulent slices of lemon and limes, juicy fruit garnishes, top shelf liquor. Not once did I see a bottle of Popov. Since the Palazzo lounge proved most convenient, we got a taste of old school and new wave bartending. Jose, a suave traditionalist treated us to treatment befitting a diva (no implications intended).

Brigitte, the platinum pin-curl haired bartender was equally attentive but with a saucy infusion of her own repertoire. At our request for something vodka based, not too sweet and not sour she conjured this 'shot'. Notice it's more like a healthy sized cocktail. She said if I'm going to make this drink you'll have to hear the story. She proceeded to tell us about working a former stint in a dive bar off the Las Vegas strip. Truckers, hookers, construction workers patronized the joint. And in it she devised this shot called: Sex at Gigi's. It's composed of: Vodka, Chambord, OJ, pineapple, a splash Sprite well shaken over ice and poured.

While I didn't get a chance to check out Bouchon, Thomas Keller's Vegas outpost I did hear amazing things about it. One from a young man on the flight back home. A very nice kid still suffering from a Bachelor party induced hangover. Still bleary-eyed he told me of this great meal he had at Bouche something. Bouchon, I queried? Yeah man, I'll never forget it, was his reverent reply.

From the mouths of babes.

Countdown to Vegas

I will be accompanying my friend Mary to Las Vegas later this week. In anticipation of the skin baring, gastro indulging, cocktail swigging I figured I better get in shape; i.e. detox and drop a few pounds. So here's the game plan:

- hardcore exercise 40 minutes every day
- fruit for breakfast
- no red meat
- no carbs (except high fiber products in small quantities - 2 water crackers are permissible)
- greater proportion of shrubbery to anything else
- limit booze to clear alcohol, no mixers, no wine. Which brings me to Vodka Tonics or Martini's straight up. (olives are allowed as they belong to the fruit family)
- no chocolate!

So far so good. For dinner last night I had a fig salad with wisps of proscuitto, 8 button mushrooms stuffed with eggplant, garlic and herbs. For dessert I had one pine nut.

Breakfast this morning comprised of egg whites, a solitary slice of grainy toast and one apple. That's the apple pictured with the NY skyline as a backdrop. My colleague had a plateful of bacon next to his Blackberry which set my teeth on edge. And there's talk of Thai food for lunch; spicy noodles, hot basil oil, stir fried lamb.

The only thing that prevents me from buying an entire bag of Dark Dove chocolates is the thought of my excitingly pudgy love handles squeezing out of a shockingly yellow bikini in the scorching Nevada sun.

Salad it is.

Bourdain - My literary muse for the day

If Anthony Bourdain wasn't already my literary muse he would have acquired the status after the Shanghai episode. Like most of his TV work, it's not always the culinary content that dazzles (French Laundry aside, good God - a tobacco confection?!) More likely the interplay between holy grail destinations (Shangri-La) and jaded but somehow reverent observations.

Not much in this episode induced moans out of me. Quite the contrary, much of the foodstuffs elicited either ehs or eewws. Matter of fact my friend Priya can't even watch the show as most of the consumables causes a gag reflex. I can only assume she happened to catch the infamous downing of a still beating cobra heart. Albeit gross but Holy Fatima how symbolically kewl?

In the Shanghai episode I wasn't overly impressed by the jiggley foods derived from soy or Yak products that would squeam out the most robust stomach (Yak butter tea aside). Far more intiquing was the ragged and uneasy balance between man and nature. Take the beautifully bizarre symbiotic relationship with the fishermen of Erhai Lake and their professional fisher-birds, the Cormorant. A bevy of birds follow the fisherman and his carved wooden boat. A piece of string is tied around the birds' throats to prevent them from swallowing a fish, once nabbed. An amazing act. The birds dive for fish, surface with one wriggling in their gizzard only to be forced to spit out their quarry on the boat.

Cormorants are not the prettiest or most graceful of avians. Blackfeathered, yellow beaked and oily in plummage I've always been amused by their Pterdactyl appearance and ability to swim half submerged. On my morning commute past the Meadowlands - should I say the part that hasn't been sold to the Japanese or serve as a shrine to our gluttony to trash - also doubles as a wetland. Nature's own filtering system providing a transition between salt water and fresh, allowing earth, sand and water to sift toxins from water and return it refreshed to the ecosystem.

I watch for my Cormorant every morning. He is dog ugly, not in the least graceful waving his hooked wings like a bat out of a particularly bad part of hell. My fellow commuters know not to talk to me for I must view upon him for the brief seconds it takes the train to speed by his brackish 'hood. He doesn't socialize much, prefering his own company to that of swans, geese and storks. Although I think he might have a thing for one of the Mallards.

Bourdain seems intriqued by the Cormorants of Erhai Lake, the relationship between fisherman and fisher fowl, the antiquated practice destined for extinction between man and bird. Upon watching the tethered birds return to their masters he observes "they seem to like it."

For devoting a portion of the Shanghai show to Cormorants then proceeding to revolve the largest prayer wheel in Shangri-la and observing the non zen-like joking monks, Anthony Bourdain gets props as my muse for the day.

Picture credited to Gil Azouri

Maestro Dobel - the Diamond Tequila

Highlight of Wednesday was an exclusive Tequila tasting event at the W Hotel (Lex and 50th). Sponsored by Proximo Spirits. Here's their release:

Maestro Dobel the world’s first-ever, diamond-clear, aged tequila – uniquely blends Extra-Anejo, Anejo and Reposado tequilas to create a crispness and complexity that compliments the Martini’s heritage with the finest sipping tequila.

The setting: 17th floor of the newly renovated W Hotel. Two suites with decks served as indoor and outdoor spaces for the event. Waiters laden with trays of tequila martinis strolled amongst the guests. The Beverage Director told me the "martinis" were really a splash of Cointreau swished around the glass and demi filled with Maestro Dobel shaken over ice.

The crowd: a mixed crowd of food and beverage writers, members of an exclusive luxury lifestyle concierge service -
Quintessentially, eye candy boys & girls and folks lucky enough to befriend a guest. My partner in crime was Mariana, you might remember her from my last venture which paired cigars with an Australian Shiraz. We befriended some lovely young girls (I wish my mother knew you!) and two British gents. One who knocked over a martini on my patent leather clad foot and offered to lick it clean.

The drinks: The aforementioned signature Tequila Martini & "Fired Margaritas" with a dash of hot wing sauce. Prepared by two mixologists and stand-in bartenders.

I spoke to mixologist Demetri about the brand and emergence of the "diamond pure" tequilas. See the video.

Verdict: Get yourself some Maestro Dobel if you're a serious tequila drinker. Affordably priced for a high end Agave in the mid $70s, keep this one on hand to serve as an alternative to vodka or rum with cocktails. It doesn't have the smoky bite of amber hued Anejos or Reposados. Some might even miss the warmth on the tongue induced by the previous incarnations. But make no mistake, this bad boy carries all the heft of his softer colored sisters.

Layer Cake Shiraz

Several weeks ago I was able to taste test a lovely Australian Shiraz at Jamie's restaurant in Lyndhurst, NJ. I found it to be: "deliciously deep-berried without harsh spice...finished with a flicker of dark chocolate."

Then this weekend I had a chance to test drive it on my own turf. A couple surprises:

1. The wine is a screw top! Freaked me out when I cut off what presumably was the foil only to find no cork. What the bloody hell? Are the cork trees in such bad shape?

2. Exposure to air dilutes the cocoa qualities.

3. Pairs surprisingly well with herb-marinated meats such as chimichurri.

4. Can substitute as a dessert wine when served with chocolate.

Buy it online Layer Cake Shiraz

Fruits of Summer Labor

Consuming my late evening energy of late has been the contemplation of a gorgeous creeper vine I purchased earlier this summer. Called the Hyacinth Bean Vine, also known as the Indian Bean. Oddly fitting. Mine has been growing for 3 months and while it has sprouted magnificent purple beans, the vine doesn't seem destined to do more than meander slowly up my trellis.

Spurred on by plant food, eggshells and even coffee grounds (I know, too acidic) the little bugger still won't shoot off new tendrils.

So if it won't succeed as an ornamental creeper, I figured it would suffice as sustenance, at the very least art. My Mom tosses it into her brinjal, okra or potato curries. Very tasty, she assures me.

Mid Summer Soiree

During time of emotional distress and financial hardship what does one do? Eat of course. Feeding the stomach can also placate the soul. Precisely why I hosted a dinner party - guest list comprising of my closest colleagues. Here's a rundown of the menu:




Appetizers

Shrimp with horseradish cocktail sauce
Crudite
Chips and Garden Salsa
Samosas and Chutney (compliments of Manali's Mom. Thanks Aunty!)

Vegetable Dishes

Eggplants, yellow & green zucchini and mushrooms marinated in vinaigrette and grilled
Mesclun salad with strawberries, walnuts, crumbled bleu cheese with balsamic dressing (thanks to Manali for that refreshing salad)

Entrees

Skirt steak marinated in an Rekha's Indo-Chimichurri sauce. Scroll below for recipe.
Grilled Turkey and Pork Kiebasi
PEI Mussels steamed over fennel, garlic, white wine and Thai chili sauce. Herbal accoutrements: chopped coriander, mint & basil.

Dessert
Fruit tart (Thanks Sheila for interpreting my request for something fruity & tarty into that fabulous confection)
Watermelon (Thanks Barb and Peter for the mondo melon)
Chocolate Brownie Cheesecake

Beverages
While some of my guests opted for my signature Mojitos, other decided to drink wine throughout the evening. And who could blame them with the luscious Layer Cake Shiraz I served all night? Here's how I would have optimally paired each course.

Appetizers: Citrusy Mojitos (scroll down for recipes) match perfectly with shrimp and make easy sipping with the chips or crudites

Main Course: Because of the heavy herbal ingredients in the Chimichurri and Mussels I would have paired the them with the Chilean Chardonnay. But then the Shiraz proved supple and flexible enough to wrangle with the aromatics with both dishes, especially the steak. Then of course you could have just drunk Mojitos all night like Ping did.

Recipes:

Rekha's Chimichurri marinade

1 cup parsley - roughly chopped
1 head garlic, de-papered and roughly chopped (or as celebrity chef Michael Chiarello puts it - mind numbing amounts of garlic)
1/2 cup white wine vinegar (can substitute plain or champagne vinegar)
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
2 jalapeno peppers, chopped
1 tablespoon sea salt
1 teaspoon black pepper
1 teaspoon lemon zest
2 whole skirt steaks

Mix all ingredients in a blender till emulsified. Taste should be tangy and fresh. In a large Ziploc storage bag insert steaks. Pour marinade over steaks and massage meat to incorporate marinade. Refrigerate overnight. Bring to room temperature for 2 hours prior to grilling. Sear both sides on a mid to hot grill for 7 minutes each. Remove from heat and place on a covered platter for at least 1/2 hour. Slice on a diagonal against the grain. I can not emphasize this enough otherwise the steak will be tough and impossible to chew. Serve immediately, but also great chilled and served the next day.