What I'm Drinking These Days

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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?

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.