Disciplined Foodie

What I'm Drinking These Days

2012-02-02T17:44:00.008+02:00

Recently was introduced to a Tequila that shattered all illusions of the "best". Hear me out, I still adore my Gran Centenario. However Deleon brought me to my knees. The bottle itself is turn on. Handblown glass decanter, silver stopper that's an intricately carved skull designed by biker jewelry designer Bill Wall. But how does it taste?

The Tequila Whisperer calls it a "very exceptional tequila". Deleon won Best in Show Grand Champion at the World Beverage Competitions 2010 and 2011.

Quite frankly for the price ($140 per bottle) I think this tequila is one you save for special sipping. Don't leave it out for Uncle Irving to swill during the football game. This baby is best poured in a snifter and shared with your honey or sipped alone while smoking a Nat Sherman on a cool winter evening.

Belmont's Redemption

2012-01-06T21:52:00.005+02:00

Been getting a lot of flak for a post last year in which I dissed the Belmont Tavern. My friends were not happy. How could you they chided? So it was with resignation that I trundled off to Belmonts, the day before Xmas Eve.

The newbies to Belmonts raved about the salad. What IS it about oil, vinegar and simple Italian herbs that makes a salad so intriguing? That's followed by Cavatelli with Pot Cheese and the Beeps. A couple orders of Mad Chicken, Chicken Savoy and the daily special of Pork Francese. All accompanied by the thimble sized cocktails.

The waitress (who's also the owner of the restaurant) takes to shine to my friend AR. She brings extra pepper flakes, extra plates and when it comes Sambuca time, she even brings him a jigger of coffee beans! Whoa, did we enter an alternate universe? You'll know the service here is terse at best.

The evening ends on an even better note. I've been severely chastised for requesting cream with my espresso. Lord knows why this is such a point of contention. Not like they have to trudge out to the field to milk old Bessy. But every time I do this I take a beating. This time I'm prepared. When the espresso arrives I whip out my non dairy creamers and gleefully sip my espresso like the demure lady I am...

From my perspective, Belmonts is redeemed.

5 out of 5 Tasters Say

2012-01-03T18:46:00.005+02:00

I think I can take them. The Pot Pie establishments that is. Recent new years day attempts have bolstered my faith in the pie. Spent half the day simmering chickens in homemade broth which rendered the poultry unctuously moist - the perfect conduit to lap up aromatics. Main contenders are Blarney Station in East Rutherford and The Orange Squirrel in Bloomfield. While the Orange Squirrel does an elegant bechamel heightened by a liquor reduction. Cognac perhaps? Blarney's pie on the other hand is pure Irish fare.

I'm not shy about my culinary prowess but I have to say my pot pie does rock. This opinion was echoed by my weekend guests. All 5 of them! As my cousin Amit boldly rumored on Facebook: Best Pot Pie EVER.

All this talk of pies and casseroles reminds me of possibly the funniest cooking blog ever captured in interactive media. Jean Paul Sartre's Cookbook. Offered here for your culinary amusement.

From the Foothills of the Tatra Mountains Springs an Exceptional Vodka

2011-12-19T20:44:00.016+02:00

Weekend frolics included a circus act trying to nail down a Friday nite venue. Contenders included Belmont Tavern, Truvatos, Il Villagio but Gianna's won out. Boy am I glad it did. Not for the Basa, my favorite white fish. Not for the shrimp in an ooh-so-lite garlic bath. Sounds like I'm prepping for the Feast of the 7 Fishes doesn't it?

No, I'm grateful to have dined at Gianna's Friday night for as I requested a Ketel One Martini with olives, Val the woman seated next to me suggested I try Double Cross instead. Never heard of it but I'm always game for a new adventure, especially if it's imbibed. So glad I did. It was smoother and oddly creamier. Not sweet like Grey Goose but softer on the tongue and silkier on the throat. Must be the 7 step distillation process, or perhaps it's the spring water from the foothills of the Tatra mountains.

The bottle is oddly rectangular and solid as you could wish any blunt object to be. Definitely a masculine bottle in a world of shapely round frosted barrels. The purveyor is barely discernible. Republic is the best we can make out, assuming it's Czech. Later we discover this product is made by the Slovak Republic with "winter grown estate wheat." First Croatia blows us away with it's indigenous Zinfindel. Now more Eastern European libation surprises. Who knew winter wheat could be so delightful?

Having been a Ketel fan for the better part of 13 years I'm ready to hand the Dutch spirit over to the sexy boys club and embrace the more feminine Double Cross as my own.

By the way, that's Dean the bartender kindly holding the bottle for the photo op.

Giannas Restaurant
843 Washington Avenue
Carlstadt, NJ 07072
201-460-7997

Dinner party season kicks off

2011-12-13T17:19:00.009+02:00

Big lavish soirees where guests dress to the hilt. Casual Sunday afternoons to cook with chef buddies. Intimate dinners with candles burning and the scent of pine and cinnamon wafting through the air. All which mean bubbly time has arrived.

In the past Nicolas Feuillatte Rose won my starry-eyed devotion. Still love my Nic but my adoration for pink has now shifted to pale straw. That's the color of the La Marca Prosecco my buddies at Shoppers Vineyard turned me on to. I purchased it this summer and loved the lemony accents it gave to hearty BBQs. Winter-time however is whole new ballgame. The sparkling is far colder (what a treat to leave Champagne out on the deck to chill ice cold! No fridge ever did as good a job.) Matter of fact I stored an entire case outdoors for a recent dinner party. Yes, my liver is pleading for agua, please agua.

Speaking of cases, the wine is so affordable it makes sense to purchase by the case. Wine Spectator rated it 90 and it recently received a DOC rating.

Thanksgiving Eats

2011-11-29T05:39:00.004+02:00

Thursday, Nov 24
Arrive in Maryland after 5 1/2 painful hours of stop and go traffic. Shotgun a mini-nip of Jose and head off to my aunt Hepzi's for the Chedalavada family Thanksgiving. I'm late so folks have already been eating. The carvings of turkey lay neatly carved sans carcass. Stuffing, mashed potatoes, candied yams, gravy adorn one table - the "western feast". On the counter are pots of chicken curry, egg and potato curry, gongera & fri-chik (far too complicated to explain here, will spend an entire post on this one.) Coconut rice, chapattis, salads, fruit juices. Yes, we're a dry family. And I mean that literally...But then I see a big roasting pan emerge from the oven. It's another turkey but this one emits the briney scent of salt & smoke. Can it be, yes! A smoked turkey. I entreat my brother to carve yet another turkey. The man is a carving genius. The flair with which he dispatches legs and breasts in congruent display is a wonder.

Then come the cakes. 3 birthdays being celebrated today. My cousin Rekha, my cousin Mena and me. Rekha's cake is a gluten-free chocolate monolith. Mine is a German Chocolate cake made by my cousin Polly. The cake is moist as you could desire. The coconut/walnut frosting acts as filling as well as topping. Crunchy, sweet, slightly bitter from the dark chocolate and melty from the filling. I love my family.

Thursday, Nov 24 later that day
I'm off to my Aunty Jaya's home to visit with her family: her sons (Amit & Anup) and hubby David. I'm too full for dinner but sip creamy Nescafe coffee (seriously, it's an art form to Indians). And surprise! birthday cake numero dos. This one's dark chocolate with butter cream frosting. How can I say no to buttercream? Especially with my name written in pink and orange? The boys and I contemplate a trip to watch Immortals at the theater but stay home to watch TV and chat about cars, dogs & our love lives.

Friday, Nov 25
Breakfast kicks in around 10. Aunt makes fried vadas with coconut chutney. Lounging, shopping, jogging the dog kicks in a rabid appetite. Dig into the chicken curry and coconut rice my aunt has prepared along with homemade yogurt. This is the holy trinity to south Indians and we honor it with our stomachs.

Later that evening I meet my cousin Patty at Azucar for a quick golden margarita (Grand Marnier). We chat and share a crab quesadilla.

Saturday, Nov 26
Breakfast is Idli with sambaar! And man is it amazing. Takes me straight back home to Saturday's when I was a kid. My aunt treats me to a girlie day, pampering me with trip to the salon for a hairdo and manicure.

Later that evening women of the family gather for a sari celebration for my Mom. Can't go home and not have Ledo's pizza, and I've been hankering for some for months. Plain cheese, green olive & onion and mushrooms & onion. Field green salad by Aunty Hepzi, Samosas from Sandhya. Sodas and water to wash it all down. Oh and cake number 3 - this time yellow cake with buttercream for Suseela the bday girl.

My culinary bootie when I return home consists of a platter of smoked turkey, a tray of samosas, a box of pizza, assorted curries and rices. Oh and an empty bottle of Jose.

Ledos Pizza, a College Park classic for decades. Although I'm not crazy about the new joint that replaced the flagship store. Various locations within and outside Maryland.
Azucar Restaurant
14418 Layhill Road
Silver Spring, Maryland 20906
Phone: (301) 438-3293

Birthday time is food time

2011-11-23T18:09:00.005+02:00

Birthday week kicked off with dinner at an old Spanish standby Segovia. Dad and friends join me for an intimate little soiree. Staple starters of Clams Casino, Shrimp Ajillo, a watery vegetable soup and the standard iceberg lettuce. I will say however that Segovias has the BEST bleu cheese dressing I've tasted in long years. It's creamy with a bite of piquant real gorgonzola. It's Dad's all time favorite. Matter of fact he packed away three, count 'em three gravy boats of dressing in one sitting.

There's rarely a time I'm not in the mood for Paella. Perhaps I should have been last night. The Paella I shared with my bud Kenny was dry and almost flavorless. So much so I had to liberally douse the dish with Tabasco. Blasphemy! Luckily Dad's order of Spare Ribs was so massive I had plenty to nosh on. Matter of fact, so did everyone else. Stu's whole lobster stuffed with crabmeat was the clear winner. Toasty crust with soft savory stuffing inside.

The house brought out a chocolate mousse cake - all very ok. Better was the serenade by the waiters singing Happy Birthday Miss America. Awesome.

Even better were the cupcakes Kenny brought along from Mr. Cupcake. Mr. Cupcake is a young Jersey guy who's made it big time. TV Food Network, local news, throngs of followers - mostly women. Come on, who doesn't love a guy who can bake? Kenny sweetly brought Average Joes (anything but yellow cake dipped in dark chocolate ganache), French Toast (just like it sounds), Apple Crisp and Vanilla Chip (more mocha-ish with dreamy buttercream...)

Nice way to kick off bday festivities.

Segovia Restaurant
150 Moonachie Road
Moonachie, NJ 07074
201.641.4266
Open for lunch and dinner daily except Monday

Viktor & Spoils Tequila Bar

2011-11-16T20:28:00.006+02:00

While I'm a proponent of taxation proportionate to income there are some exclusivities of the riche that make my lil ole heart aflutter. Like Quintessentially the self proclaimed "club for those who believe that life is too short to waste time on the mundane or second-best".

While I'm not a member I do receive invitations to food and beverage events. Like this week's launching of Viktor and Spoils, the newest Loisaida - pronounced Loui-eas-ida - (Lower East Sider, get it?). Viktor & Spoils serves authentic small bites like lobster and cactus tempura. Yo! Unadulterated tacos and stuffed and fried rolls called Taquitos. But wait, saving the best for last. The Tequilas and Mezcals. Difference? Tequila is made specifically from the blue agave where Mezcal is derived from Maguay and is typically smokier...the better to marinate worms...

A little industrial on looks. Could use a haunting Mexican chanteuse moaning about her lost love. But then that's just the way I prefer to drink my Tequila. A bit refined for now, will be interesting how this joint evolves given the location.

Let the Winter Feasting Begin

2011-11-09T04:10:00.005+02:00

The cooler weather brings those breathtaking blue skies. The can-you-believe-these-colors pageantry of foliage. Lengthy, brisk bike rides that remind you of long forgotten muscles. But best of all it brings cold weather eating. Rose's Place, a Lebanonese restaurant off busy Route 4 comes highly recommended by my chef buddy Kenny. We take a bottle of Prosecco to pair with the vibrant but not overly aggressive spice palette. We're served a complimentary plate of pickled cornichons, beets and cured olives accompanied by toasted pita points. Something about the purity of rustic bread topped by brined goods makes me happy. The Italians do it well, as do the Spainards. Apparently so do the Lebanonese.

To start we chose a few salads, garlicky cucumbers, tomatoes and yogurt. For mains we're recommended the kabob platter of chicken, lamb and beef. The salmon catches our eye as the second entree. The meat kabobs are good- hearty, well seasoned and adroitly cooked. The best of the lot are the chicken kabobs, which are addictive and somehow dismiss the red meat to a corner. How can this be so? I'm guessing long marination gives these chickies the burst of flavor. The salmon turns out to be the surprise winner. While Kenny adores seafood salmon is not one of the pesce that floats his boat. No more, Omega 3 be damned! To western propensities, this salmon redefines how fish can be prepared. Of course I've been cooking salmon curry for years in tamarind, chillies and tomatoes. But that's another post, another recipe.

Rose's Place. What you need to know:
32-01 Broadway, Fair Lawn, NJ (201) 475-8800
BYOB.
Shareable plates, ask the waitstaff for recommendations. Hunker down for a leisurely meal. The food is cooked upon request and deserves the requisite preparation time.

Sergios Bistro - a New Find

2011-10-10T02:07:00.000+03:00

Two hot Columbian men. A sexy 12 table bistro. A BYOB nouveau upscale take on Italian. That's Sergios on a nutshell, happy to say a very tasty one at that. Located in on the border of Clifton and Passaic Sergios is the kind of place you have to be introduced to, otherwise you would easily drive by without the slightest notion of its existence. Lucky for me a long time patron shared his favorite Italian joint with me last Friday nite.

The weather was nippy but tolerable which boded well for us since the wait for a table was at least 30 minutes. We shot the breeze with other patrons while peeking at tables as they avail themselves. The interior of Sergios looks more like Kanye West's boudoir shag pad than a bistro in a conservative Latin neighborhood. Crimson walls adored with gilted mirrors, artwork depicting Virgin Mary with a knitting basket, frolicking cherub chandeliers, white muslin curtains drawn back in suggestive promise.

It's dinner - theater. Luckily the staff are seasoned professionals, not men jonesing for a chance to sing or recite a soliloquy from a David Mamet play. These dudes know their onions, and garlic and balsamic reduction...The wine is deftly opened and airs enough for the salad of beet, goat cheese, arugula and honeyied walnuts. Perfect for an early fall nite. The complimentary plate of cured, cracked black Sicilian olives is accompanied by a ramekin of fruity Italian olive oil in which shavings of jalepenos have been swimming. Since when do Italians dig jalepenos? Who cares? the combo is fresh and bites through the salty oil slick of olives.

The owners Sergio and Carlos make the rounds and effusively greet diners. They are partners in business and life, and from the looks of it, make it all work.

Skirt steak in a demi glace wine reduction and Mako Shark in capers, lemon and wine arrive for the main course. Mashed potatoes and a mound of risotto accompany the entrees. And I gotta say, it would be easy to make any of these items passably mediocre. But this kitchen pays infinite attention to the preparation of the fish and meats, even more so to the sauces paired with them. The wine reduction is not a macho affrontery to the fatty steak. Nor does the lemon brine bath overpower the meatiness of the shark.

It's not only the stomach and mouth that are seduced during dinner. A guitarist plays Spanish guitar for the groupie diners. Spanish acoustic guitar is always pleasurable, but this artist throws a curveball to the 40ish crowd, playing odd choices such as A Whiter Shade of Pale, Eleanor Rigby and the more predictable Lady in Red. What a hoot! I request Stairway to Heaven but he abashedly declines, saying these people want music to digest their food, not agitate it.

Lately these days there no such thing as too much chocolate. So I order the dense chocolate mousse pie. My dining companion opts for the Creme Brulee. Meh I'm thinking. Been there, done that. But I am wrong. This Brulee, under the crust of carmelized sugar is WARM. No word other than voluptuousness on a plate. The demi tasse of bitter strong latte rounds out the night.

Sergios Bistro. What you need to know - cash only. BYOB and bring plenty for you will want to celebrate the food these dashing Columbians dish out. Call for reservations but expect to wait nonetheless.

Sergios Bistro
327A Lakeview Avenue
Clifton, NJ 07011
973-772-1655
Open 7 days a week for dinner
Lunch Monday - Friday

Last Days of Summer

2011-09-20T18:07:00.001+03:00

Something about the inevitability of Autumn that propels one to indulge in the last of summer's delights. Hamburgers (albeit gourmet), hot dogs (better yet kielbasi) and over-chilled white wines. Best of the summer bounty - lobster bakes!

A new strip mall arose in Clifton from the ruins of an antiquated car dealership. The occasional clothing store is outnumbered by the food joints. Hohum Fridays, locally owned Greek, Italian and pizza venues. A yogurt bar with lines half way down the street. And a very attractive street at that. Manicured pathways, fountains and music soaring over speakers all night! Seriously, Ella Fitzgerald while gnoshing on a yogurt cup? Tres civilized.

The biggest draw in the mall is undisputedly Joes Crab Shack. You know, those goofy commercials with diners getting waylaid by claws on their way to "bland" fast food joints. Joes relishes an eccentric atmosphere. Take the waitstaff outfitted in tied dyed or humorously suggestive tees like "Down, Dirty, Messy". Then there's the Macarena, the house dance that the waitstaff breaks into every hour or so. It's like Glee meets Lucky Changs. The kids love it, shaking their tushes to the other forbidden dance. My dinner companion and local pub buddy is a native Jersey boy who's delight in seafood is only surpassed by his love of wrestling big game fish. Of course his name is Joe.

Inevitably it all comes down to eats and Joes is all about seafood with an emphasis on Crab. Starters include a gluey chowder, decent fried oysters with a spicy remoulade dip. Best of the lot - Crab Nachos.

Skip the salads, the token chicken and pasta dishes and go straight to the steampots and buckets. Not too complicated - pick the type of shellfish combo, the seasoning (Old Bay, Ragin Cajun, Diablo). We opt for 2 Samuel Adams pots for the lure of meaty meaty lobster claws and a prerequisite for a lobster bake - sausage. Given the devotion to New Orleans style cookery, this sausage turns out to be Andouille. Old Bay seasoning adds a salty back note to the beer reduction. The potatoes are meaty but bland red bliss. Corn on the cob however is superb. Not overly steamed, sweet, crunchy and daintily sheared of husk and silk.

Get a gigantor sized 22 oz beer for like $5 but stay away from the cocktails. Way too much sugar and calories for a drink. Save those for the Key Lime Pie or Sea Turtle Sundae.

Joes Crab Shack

405 Allwood Road Clifton, NJ 07013

(973) 777-5114

Better Than Belmonts?

2011-09-11T06:57:00.000+03:00

While rotting destruction and shredded vocal chords surround me these days one truth remains inescapable: a foodie must eat.

I wait at the bar at Truvatos for my friend Jen to arrive. Now Jen and I are polar opposites. She blonde, peaches and cream. Me, dark and bronzed. We've been likened to a black and white cookie. I sip a Cosmo 'cause we all know Vodka's good for the throat. The guy to the left of me says you have the sexiest voice I've heard outside of a 900 number. The guy to the right of me orders Escargots. They look good, smell even better. He offers me a butter drenched nugget on the tip in his tiny fork. Why thank you! Good way to start the night.

Jen and I are seated and immediately order the Shrimp Beeps. If I've heard correctly beeps originated at the Belmont Tavern, a revered Newark establishment originally located next to a chicken butcher. Hence the extended list of chicken dishes and the term "beeps." The Beeps at Truvatos are fatter, juicier and more plentiful, nestled in a more complex sauce, somewhere between a marinara and scampi sauce. Robusto!

Jen opts for the chicken breast Diavolo while I'm jonesing for dark meat on the bone. I'm not claiming this Chicken Abruzzio, roasted chicken in vinegar is better than Belmonts chicken Savoy. I'm just stating that the vinegar reduction with a touch of wine in which shitake mushrooms and slivers of red hot peppers bathe is slap-my-ass-and-call-me-Betty delicious. Just saying.

We order a dessert of strawberries and cream. Heavy whipped cream is just about my favorite topping to lavish on anything. Truvatos pushes the envelope even further. Theirs is not just whipped cream, or even a marscapone blend, but made with cannoli cream. The strawberries are tart and crunchy enough to counter the velvety folds of cannoli clouds.

To our supreme disappointment our waiter Uwaldo informs us "no more strawberries." The bitter shock on our faces is enough to send him scurrying off to make amends. Uwaldo returns carrying a 3 foot tall vial of Grappa in which 2 bosc pears have been fermenting. Like many family style Italian restaurants Truvatos offers a signature digestive to their patrons. Grappa happens to be theirs. He fills our snifters with priestly ritual. The pears however are in an adventurous mood and tumble out of their vial, onto our table, splashing me with their heady juices. My lime green top is splattered with Grappa to our waiters dismay. I shush him. Stained chiffon is a small price to pay for this elixir.

I might not be able to speak but it's sure good to eat.

Truvatos Restaurant, Closed Mondays
206 Route 46 East, Elmwood Park, NJ 07407
Tel: 201-797-7552

Food to Storm by

2011-08-28T18:53:00.000+03:00

Hurricane Irene, downgraded to a Tropical Storm blasted through the eastern corridor Saturday night and into Sunday morning. Dumped 8 inches of rain in 12 hours, hence my very flooded basement. Luckily I had packed all my outdoor furniture into my garage, so no damage other than hefty fallen branches and leaf debris making my yard look like a woodchipper went insane.

So what's a foodie to eat in such chaos? My kind neighbor brought over a plate of his wings to snack on while I clean. Now these wings are crazy good. Crispy salty but shellacked in a sweet Teriyaki sauce that's culinary crack. Porn on a plate baby!

If he ever shares the recipe I'll post for your enjoyment. Till then, all you get is a picture to drool by...

Cape May - Still Sweet and Food Worthy

2011-07-22T20:23:00.000+03:00

Back to Cape May for the first time in 4 years with Dad, Duke, my cousin and niece. We bring tons of food to feed finicky mouths. Usual summer suspects of hamburgers, hotdogs, chix salad, steaks, even paella one night! Best Tiger prawns I've ever tasted from the North Cape May Acme. Sweeter and firmer than any shrimp on any continent I've visited. Go figure.

But a girl can't live on groceries alone. Luckily my friend Paul whisked me off to sample the culinary delights of Cape May. Wednesday night at 9:30 and all the cute restaurants are CLOSED. Being a jaded world traveler Paul is not happy with the provincial dining hours. Providentially the Blue Pig Tavern was still serving dinner, albeit slowly. Our waitress charmingly welcomes us. She's a foreign exchange student named Sheena hailing from Jamaica. She brings our first course of oysters on the half shell. Briney enough to please me and oddly large - Wellfleet, I believe. No such thing as too much oyster for Paul on which he lavishes cocktail and mignonette sauce. Good start. I move on to Butterfish in miso broth over a bed of black risotto. I believe black risotto is usually from squid ink. I don't care of this is made from Bic ink, it is stupendous. I'm really not that hungry but covetously hoard my risotto. It's that good. The few grains I offer Paul are greatly appreciated. He's famished as only a bike rider who pumps out 75 miles a day over mountainous terrain can be. Steak Frites for him. Dessert is a highlight which Sheena considerately splits in two plates: deep dark chocolate mousse cake with hefty dollops of fresh whipped cream. I make Homer Simpson noises to express my pleasure.

The next day and it seems the weather Gods are happy with me and my family. Blue skies that make your heart ache, crisp green lawns of Congress Halls flanked by whitewashed Adirondack chairs. Sophia needs entertainment. Off to the kiddie arcade to win a grubby stuffed animal or hopefully a toy with an amusement factor of more than 1 day. Her booty: an alien doll in a parachute. It's bloody weird but oddly she likes it. After which she gets treated to two rounds of Reindeer rides (they're all named Prancer! what's up with that?) at the kiddie arcade we head out for fun adult time. Meaning: drinks! Stella Artois for Paul, 'Rita on the rocks for Radha, frozen with salt for me. The baby gets lemonade. Waitress Debbie plops my Tequila slushie in front of me with a complimentary shot of Sauza. What a nice girl! If it wasn't enough that Cabanas features (used to!) the best Sublime cover band Evar the free shot of tequila would do the trick. Instantly wins my vote for top bar. I'm so easy some times...

We sip while snacking on Sweet Potato Fries, Tuna Tacos and Chicken Fingers. The skateboarders wheel by. Skinny carefree 12 year-olds showing off their pre pubescent chests. Don't worry little guys. Soon your chests will be pumped from street steroids and you can puff with the best of Jersey shore.

We give the nite time restaurant scene another try. This time we get a seating at the hip 9 table restaurant - an offshoot from the chefs who own George's Place. It's a first on Disciplined Foodie where I don't know the name of the restaurant, nor can I rustle it up Internet-wise. So if any readers out there can enlighten me, please do! Fow now I'll call it the groovy Greek restaurant that reminds us of the Orange Squirrel in Bloomfield, NJ.

Guy Fieri of the Food Network gave props to George's sausage stuffing on his Diners, Drive-ins and Dives show . The same item appears on this restaurant's leaner menu. We each start with a chopped greek salad practically pickling in tangy vinegar and salty feta cheese. Tiny pear tomatoes, crisp cucumbers, lettuce chopped into small bites. Simple but massive on taste and size! It's as big as an old Hewlett Packard keyboard so share with your dinner companion. I opt for a rare seared Tuna while Paul, still jonesing for protein hits another steak with duck confit fries. I order an extra side of Tzatziki which I dip the melting tuna into. I can taste the sharp garlic right through the creamy yogurt. The taste remains with me all night, and the next morning, and the night after...Paul's steak is well cooked but a bit on the gristlely side. But the confit fries are a discovery. They are batter dipped and fried in the most unctuous of fats: duck. I adore baby ducks and will chat with any Mallard that passes my way. By dang it if their fat isn't a culinary wonder!

Looks like Cape May has lost none of it's allure. And with new joints to be explored it's only a matter of time before I head back.

Blue Pig Tavern at the Congress Hall hotel. 251 Beach Ave. Cape May, NJ 08204

Cabanas Beach Bar and Grill 429 Beach Ave Cape May, NJ 08204

Groovy Greek Restaurant - Beach Ave, Cape May, NJ 08204

The First Chutney

2011-06-07T22:33:00.000+03:00

The thing I miss most about my mother is her chutney. Drop to your knees tangy, mouthwatering, with texture that delights the tongue. Truly the condimente of the gods.

I watched her make it many times. Roasting whole cloves of garlic, hunking chunks of onion, tomato on a pan that had already fried mustard & coriander seeds and chana dahl. Then it got tricky. Chilies red & green, hot and mild for depth and heat. A little tamarind, stalks of coriander and methi seeds - or was it dhania? Then shavings of doskai - ridge gourd that she packed in ziplocks in the freezer. At the very end coriander and fresh mint leaves before grinded in a blender into margarita-like consistency. For the faint of stomach she would sometimes add fresh coconut flesh to temper the sting.

I roast low and slow. I toss in seeds and pinch leaves - weighing them in my culinary mind against what she would do. Finally I grind and serve to Dad. He dips his idli into the chutney and eats quietly. My father is a reserved man so I'm not expecting squeals of delight. He finishes and sighs. "Good breakfast."

It's a start.

Back to Mulberry

2010-09-01T05:50:00.000+03:00

It's the beginning of a miserable week. Don the chef greets us with a new extended menu. As always he's touchingly proud of the new offerings. We start with a simple arugula salad with fennel, shaved parmesan and tiny little bitterly sour berries. Then comes the main course - a Roman speciality called Amatriciana. Don proudly informs us it's made not from pancetta but guincali. This I must try - mostly because Anthony Bourdain rhapsodized about the dish in his visit to Rome. What's good for my muse is perfect on a miserable rainy Monday.

will it never stop? I head home with happy stomach but with morbid Hemingway like thoughts of dying alone, in the rain. Ok, would you believe sleeping alone in the rain?

Chinese New Year, Jersey style

2010-02-21T19:56:00.001+02:00

My friend Rosie celebrates Chinese New Year every year. Friends from all corners of New Jersey, NY and I think even Connecticut show up with a bottle of something something and wearing the one costume requirement: RED. It's a fete in rouge. We order Chinese, that's right order out. It's a hoot. Sweet riblets, dim sum, pot stickers, beef sticks for starters. Then a cornucopia of American Chinese food. The obligatory beef and broccoli, moo shu pork, Kung Pao chicken, garlic shrimp, General Tsos chicken, chicken fried rice, pork fried rice, vegetable rice, lo mein, chow fun. It's a soy fest! I head home overwhelmed with sulfites and drink about a gallon of water. It's a sweet way to bring in the new year ala Chinois. Only as I'm leaving do we realize not one of the guests is Asian.

Valentine's Day is meant for food, right?

2010-02-17T05:44:00.001+02:00

A cold Valentines day. I drive into the city to keep a date with my girlfriend Julie. We have an ongoing pact, if not involved with an amour we dine together as only high powered women with a love for exceptional food can. Last year we dined at the Mandarin and allowed a guy to tag alongw ith us. He was doomed the poor sot. I don't recall his name, nor even what he looked like. But he was a self proclaimed millionaire who professed a love for exotic women. Even by high school standards he was cheap - we paid for dinner. Afterwards we danced at the club atop the Essex. I should say Julie and I danced, the guy - let's call him Moe - watched.

So this year Julie and I plan a redux of Valentines day, sans millionaire. We pop into the China Club - packed. We grab a drink hoping the guy to my right gets stood up so we can have 2 seats at the bar. No such luck, she shows - a leggy blonde who appears to be dating down. We can only imagine how much she's going to milk the guy for the honor of a date on Valentines day.

We're sipping our cocktails - a vodka infused ditty, planning our next move when a a man approaches. He's got a great smile, capably chat with both of us and then invites us to share dinner. His name is Johnnie and if there's one thing my chica and I are, it's game. So we pop into his Cadillac CTS and head to the East Village. We slip into a tiny little Italian joint with more wait staff than patrons. We order the Lobster Fra Diavolo, Pasta Carbonara and polish off several bottles of Prosecco. Of course dessert is a must so we order a chocolate torte.

Johnnie looks like he's in the midst of a beautiful dream, all the while smiling. Julie and I are replete, having just reminded ourselves that Valentine's Day is all about food.

Best Meal of 2010, So Far

2010-02-07T17:36:00.000+02:00

Good friend Julie is in town from Sweden. As with many of my friends, food plays a primary role in determining our activities. First to 230 5th for cocktails. Quite easily one of the most gorgeous spots in NY for drinks al fresco. But it's 20 degrees with a brisk wind. Most of the southeastern corrider has just been pummeled with some 2 - 3 feet of snow, and Julie just left Sweden for God's sake. So indoors to 230 5th to chat with Steven Greenberg, owner of 230 5th and collaborator with renowned Ian Schrager. A few dirty martinis later accompanied by shrimp chips and we're off to dinner.

She's craving some hip Chino Latino fare so Sushi Samba we hit. But first we hit the smoke shop on Christopher for a dozen packs of Nat Shermans. Julie's mad about them, as are her Swedish pals. Yes, guilty as charged for introducing her to the devilish delights. Sushi Samba's hopping so we sit at the sushi bar, jackets and bags crammed under our feet. Note to management: put handbag hooks in front of ALL the stools, not just the corners.

We start with crispy Yellowtail Taquitos drizzled with spicy Peruvian foam. Scrumptious! Tiny Manila clams floating in hot miso soup helps warm our hands and bellies. Then 4 impeccable slices of yellowtail sashimi soaking in a jalapeno lemongrass bath hold us over till the main course. The deepfried red snapper is impressively semi-deboned, butterflied and set adrift in a sea of sweetly mild red curry coconut milk. Sticky sweet rice topped with crunchy slivers of black confetti, of which I can not identify.

Pale yellow Passionfruit lechi martinis accompany the food but don't slake our ever present thirst for dessert. So Jules orders Mochi - childishly colored icecream filled cakes that she adores. I've been eating all day and it's way past 10, still I'm feeling extragavant so opt for the Valrhona chocolate fondue. And yes, it's as obscene as it sounds. Shot glasses of blackberries, strawberries (pale and tasteless, unfortunatley), diced pineapple, coconut marshmallows, passionfruit cake, rice crispy balls and green tea sorbet await a plunge in the dark fondue. The blackberries and green tea were by far the winners. The rice crispy balls were so hard, my molars could barely crunch through them. I fear dental chippage and the subsequent lawsuit might ensue with that offering. Note: this dessert is a steal at $6.00. Can't go wrong here.

In all, the best meal of 2010. Luckily it's only February.

Where have you gone Food TV?

2010-01-14T22:52:00.000+02:00

Imagine Disciplined Foodie's dismay when she turned on her TV New Year's day to wallow in an orgy of food shows, only to find an annoying message screen replacing the food channel:

Cablevision's contract to carry HGTV and Food Network expired on December 31, 2009. Unfortunately, Scripps chose to remove the channels from Cablevision's system after we did not accept their demands.

I'm forced to feed my hunger for beautiful food ideas with alternative services. Of course Anthony Bourdain is my literary muse, so I turn to him first. However, the Travel Channel doesn't feel it fit to run Bourdain during the kiddie hours (probably has something to do with his frequent references to drugs, sex and/or debauched bouts of alcohol consumption.

America's Test Kitchen is good fun. Not only because Chris Kimball is such a lovabel geek, but because Bridget and Julia really come up with creative quick fix solutions. Sauteed ground chicken for Chicken Soup, sure! But it's only a half hour show. And my thirst for beautiful new food ideas is unquenchable...So I watch Man vs. Food pitting Adam Richman against ginormous portions of food being consumed by a sheepishly fun guy. I wonder why Adam needs to eat a 5 pound burrito all by himself. Surely there are hungry lad in town who could benefit from hand chopped beef, 5 tortillas, rice, beans and guacamole? Instead Richman stuffs his gizzard with enough food to feed a schoolhouse in Tequila.

Not sure how much more I can take of this deprivation. I might take to watching food shows on my laptop instead of my 46 inch HD plasma. I'm getting frightfully tired of Lidia's Italy and MSNBC's Cup of Joe doesn't have the same flavor as Tyler's Ultimate. Such a misleading title.

A civilized smoke in Montvale

2009-10-02T23:36:00.000+03:00

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

2009-09-30T04:47:00.000+03:00

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

2009-09-23T04:17:00.000+03:00

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?

2009-09-10T17:54:00.000+03:00

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

2009-09-04T18:39:00.000+03:00

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

2009-08-25T20:57:00.000+03:00

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

2009-08-19T22:39:00.001+03:00

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

2009-08-13T19:55:00.001+03:00

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

2009-08-10T19:58:00.000+03:00

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

2009-08-03T18:14:00.000+03:00

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

2009-07-28T23:36:00.000+03:00

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

2009-07-21T17:12:00.001+03:00

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

2009-07-19T22:11:00.000+03:00

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

2009-07-16T16:42:00.001+03:00

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

2009-07-15T17:50:00.000+03:00

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

2009-07-14T21:46:00.000+03:00

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

2009-07-13T21:38:00.000+03:00

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.