Buttermilk Pancakes - It's What's For Breakfast

Buttermilk pancakes. What’s not to like, right?  I mean, haven’t we all, at one time or another, under the influence of something or other, hopped into the car (with a designated driver, of course!) and headed to our local IHOP or Denny’s or wherever for a stack of these tasty treats?  I know I have – but that was many moons ago, and at this point in my life, I’ll probably never enter an IHOP or a Denny’s again, unless under extreme duress. Or with a designated driver.

So…that means when I want buttermilk pancakes, I gotta do what they did back in the old days, and make ‘em myself.  But there’s usually a small problem when I want to make buttermilk pancakes, and that’s that I don’t generally have buttermilk in the fridge.  I also don’t want to go shopping before eating breakfast…not gonna happen. What to do?

Enter this stuff, which I found at my local favorite store that everyone loves to not like…

Yep - buttermilk powder – and all you add is water!  Works great. Also, it keeps for a long freaking time; this container has a “USE BY” date of sometime in 2015, so figure it’s as healthy as a Twinkie, right?  Anyway, whip up your favorite buttermilk pancake batter, follow the directions on the package, make sure your griddle is the proper temperature and ladle the batter on. When they look like this, turn them…

When they look like this on both sides, they’re done…

And, use the good stuff to top ‘em. If you’re using Log Cabin, stop reading this damn blog, fools…

Happy New Year from Significant Eater and me.

That’s Amore, Roman Style

PIZZA!!

There - do I have your attention? Pizza always gets everyone’s attention. I mean, New Yorkers will argue over who makes the best pizza as if it had some sort of greater meaning in the universe, as if it was as important as something along the lines of who was the greatest Knick of all time. Seriously. 

I wonder if Romans do the same thing…argue about pizza, that is.  Because on our recent trip to Rome, we got to try some of the highly-touted pizza being served up by one Gabriele Bonci, as well as the pizza at a place we first tried maybe more than a dozen years ago – and which I’ve been recommending ever since.  In between, there was a sandwich or two at Roscioli, another old fave dishing up classic Roman pizza bianca by the meter, sometimes sliced in half and stuffed with delicious mortadella, as a matter of fact…

Bonci, if you haven’t heard, might be Rome’s answer to Dom DeMarco, and at his emporium Pizzarium, you may wait close to an hour to sample the wares, just like you do at Dom's Di Fara’s. Only in this case, the wait is worth it, because at Pizzarium, once you’re lucky enough to get up to the counter, you’ll want to taste everything. Look at how beautiful it all looks…

Significant Eater and I were trying to be reasonable (and leave ourselves room for a big dinner), so we only tried 3 of the perhaps dozen or more varieties of pizza al taglio offered on this particular day. It’s fun, because you tell ‘em (or point to) how big of of a slice you want, and it’s priced by weight. We spent around €20, could’ve eaten more, but walked away feeling good.

Just like at home, I prefer my pizza with less on top; that way I get a better idea about the crust, which is basically my favorite part.  Here’s the assortment we, ummmm, inhaled…

And we both decided that this slice of zucchini, fresh ricotta and orange zest was our favorite…

Signore Bonci is a star. I mean, once Bourdain has been to your joint, you’ve been anointed, haven’t you?  Well, maybe, but more important to me are the opinions of Katie Parla, Gina Tringali and Elizabeth Minchilli, all of whom have written extensively about the man.  And they say go, so do I and so do they...

Our final night in Rome was a melancholy one, as it often is when a vacation ends. We took a long walk, past the Pantheon…

Through Piazza Navona…

By Chiesa di Santa Maria Della Pace…

To our final destination…

Da Francesco is a ristorante/pizzeria that Significant Eater and I “discovered” on our first trip to Rome a dozen years ago. I've been suggesting it to people since back then, when for around $10, you could load up your plate with a selection of antipasti from a serve yourself antipasto bar.  We often laughed watching guys the size of American football players go back to their tables with plates piled high with so much food that it was a wonder it didn’t spill all over the floor.  That’s no longer an option, as they were probably losing money on every plate, but the pizza, as it was back then, is still very good. I decided on the porcini mushroom pie…

This is real Roman pizza, thin-crusted and crisp...you can nearly see through it...

And it’s damn good.  Sig Eater had sausage on her's…

Then, after a nice, satisfying meal, we wandered on back to our apartment, passing this poor bastard along the way…

As well as the French Embassy, better known as Palazzo Farnese…

Rome's pizza offerings are certainly more extensive now than they were back during our first visit.  So I suppose, just like here in NYC, there will be arguments all around as to whose pizza is the best.  While I don't think you can go wrong at either of these two places, please leave me out of the discussion as to who was the greatest Roman soccer star - I've got no idea.


Pizzarium  - Via della Meloria, 43   T: 06 3974 5416
Da Francesco - Piazza del Fico, 29  T: 06 686 4009
Roscioli - Via dei Chiavari, 34          T: 06 686 4045

The Full Monty, Roman Style - Trattoria Monti, That Is

Arriving in Rome after a mid-morning flight from Palermo, Significant Eater and I  found ourselves significantly hungry. It was the heart of the lunch hour, popular restaurants are pretty full at lunch and if you show up without a reservation, you take your chances. But after we checked into our apartment and got a quick tour of the pad and how to turn on the heat, we took off to a popular restaurant without a reservation, because after all, I like taking chances.   

The place we were heading to came recommended via a variety of sources; you know - bloggers, boards, books, you name it - they all say go. Of course, it has its detractors, or at least those who say it isn't as good as it used to be, or that they recently went and the service was awful...and so on. What should a couple of hungry tourists do?

In this case, we headed up the hill to the Esquiline, and Trattoria Monti. Guess what awaited us?  A full house, but after a little begging and pleading (and perhaps some name dropping) we were told to come back in an hour and they’d be happy to serve us. So we headed down the street, took a walk around the Piazza Vittorio Emanuele II, and when we returned we were greeted like old friends and seated at a table with a view of the kitchen and the duo of female chefs (always a good sign, imo).

I don't know about the detractors, but the food we had on this Thursday afternoon was good...really good.  Incidentally, Trattoria Monti doesn't serve "Roman" food.  The family is from Le Marche and much of the food is informed by that region, which lies to the northeast of Rome's region, Lazio.  We started with a shared antipasto, and it included all manner of fried goodies, including meat stuffed olives (wow!), zucchini flowers, slices or artichoke, a little sweet nibble and Significant Eater and I were already settling in nicely.  Oh, did I mention? The place is run by some of the nicest and best looking Italian guys in the biz (that's according to Sig Eater) - and I’d have to agree, even though I liked the olives more...

Following up on our antipasto, we shared the special risotto of the day, with fresh porcini. The kitchen split our order (it actually looked as if they’d made two orders) and we were soon enjoying one of the finer risotti we’d had in recent memory…the rice perfectly cooked and the mushrooms adding their earthy flavor. No need for any truffle oil here, thank you.

For our entrees, I had a roasted squab, stuffed with more squab meat and it got me thinking – I need to make squab at home...it's delicious. Sig Eater went with the roasted pork shoulder, a hunk of meat more suited to Fred Flintstone, which worked out well, since I ate half of that too. Delicate, crispy skin, moist meat and just-right salty. We eat our fair share of roast pork – it’s one of my go-to dishes when feeding a crowd at home, pernil is a neighborhood specialty, but to approach Trattoria Monti’s, I have some practicing to do.

Since we liked lunch so much, we decided to come back again – this time with a reservation, for Sunday lunch.  I ordered the same fried app for a starter but Sig Eater ordered a house specialty for a starter – sformato of eggplant napped with a sweet tomato sauce.  Light as air, we fought over the last bite...

We both had pasta for our primi; SE had rigatoni with crumbled sausage and oil, while I went with another specialty of the house, the tortellone...a giant ravioli-like creature filled with ricotta, spinach and yes, an egg yolk, making for an utterly delicious combo...

And lucky for us, there was another roast on the menu…this time, it was lamb and it gave the roast pork we had on Thursday a run for its money. A really good run, all crispy skin, gamy lamb and little bones to nibble on, atop a ration of potatoes...

After all that food, do you think there was room for dessert?  Well, it being Sunday, dessert was necessary and we decided to share another sformato, this one of apple and napped with an awesome zabaglione, a delicate custard made with sweet Marsala wine...

Go?  Well, only if you want some of the most delicious food we ate over the course of a week in Rome.  Served by some of the nicest staff you'll ever meet and try to communicate with.   After all, how happy does this Significant Eater look?

Two Views and Welcome Home

From our apartment yesterday...

From our apartment today...

It's always good to be back home because after all, where else can you get this kind of greeting?

Santa Maria dei Monti Offerta Hot and Sour Soup

After over a week in Italy, Significant Eater and I were craving something just a little bit different...food wise. Now don't get me wrong; most everything we've eaten over the past week has been superb. For example, one of the meals we ate (on the night we arrived in Rome) was a 7-course pasta dinner, followed by an amazing cheese plate and finally, panna cotta. That dinner came courtesy of Katie Parla, travel and food writer extraordinaire, and all around good egg, who nabbed us reservations upon my request, after I read about it on her blog.  By the way, if you need to find something out about food or art in Rome, Naples and other far-flung locales, Ms. Parla is your gal.

Where was I? Oh yeah - we've been staying in an apartment in Monti, Rome's first ward, or Rione I. We're literally down the block from the from the Piazza della Madonna dei Monti...

It's the nabe's meeting place - and even on a Sunday night, everyone is out in their finery, meeting and greeting each other, drinking some wine, and just having a grand old time.  Seemingly every piazza has its church; this one is no different, and Santa Maria dei Monti is its name. It's a beauty, too, built in the 16th century...

Interestingly enough, if you turn around with your back to the church, this place is directly across the street, and it was the object of Sig Eater's and my desire...

I know what you're thinking; Chinese food in Rome? But we were craving it, and guess what? It was better than 95% of the stuff I eat in Chinatown. Yes, Chinatown. In NYC. Where I fucking live.

For starters, the hot and sour soup...

It  had just the right amount of chili pepper, if a little heavy on the cornstarch, but tell me about a hot and sour soup in Manhattan that's great, and your next bowl is on me. But the sizzling vegetables were just right, especially after a week of greens that are cooked until any semblance of what they looked like raw is beyond your wildest imagination...

The chicken I ordered wasn't bad either (also on a sizzling platter), and a gingery stir-fry of shrimp with spring onions was  just the way we like it.  Here's what my plate looked like after I was done loading it up...

And the topper?  All of that food, along with a giant Peroni beer and a bowl of rice was about $30. Or 24€, to be exact. Less than you'd pay back in Chinatown. Better, too. A craving satisfied. But - tomorrow's another day, and more great cucina Romana awaits. We're leaving the real noodles to the Italians.

Buon Viaggio!

Significant Eater and I are off on a bit of a vacation; I hope to actually do a bit of blogging while we're gone.

Here's where we are going to be starting tomorrow...

And then, since we wanted to get away from the hordes of people in New York City, we'll end up here...

Of course, if I get too far away from the city, for too long, I break out in hives, so...

Oy, Oy, Oyamel

What happens when one of your favorite chefs, whose restaurants you’ve greatly enjoyed in the past, becomes more and more successful?  And by successful I mean keeps opening restaurants all over the damn place.

Well, I guess on the one hand you can be happy for that chef’s success and be excited to try all of those restaurants.  I mean, there is a chef or two here in New York who have gone on to fame and fortune and I’m pretty happy to be eating in most, if not all, of their establishments.

But what about the other side of the coin, where as your favorite chef opens a new restaurant, one or more of the previously opened ones turns out to be not so good?

Okay, the chef I’m referring to is José Andrés.  You probably know José; a great cook  whose food I've always admired, wildly popular, got a bunch of TV shows, Spain’s greatest ambassador, etc., etc. He has that great accent.  He’s a partner (in Think Food Group) and ostensibly the Big Kahuna Chef of close to a dozen restaurants. He made his bones working in some of Spain’s top kitchens, including that of Ferran Adrià, of…well, you know…that Ferran Adrià.  And then when he embarked to the United States, rather than heading for New York City and all of it’s potential fame and glory, he headed for Washington, D. C. - and whatever it is you go there for.

In José's case, it was to open restaurants.  Jaleo, Café Atlantico, Zaytinya - all good, if not great restaurants, as a matter of fact.  Highly touted restaurants, which gave him and his partners the ability to open more restaurants. These were and are fun, happening places with good food, good times and fairly gentle prices. Then there were more – Oyamel, another location or two of Jaleo, minibar by José Andrés, a restaurant or two in Vegas, one or two in Los Angeles – you get the picture.

Just last weekend, I was excited to try a restaurant of Jose’s that has been open for a while now – Oyamel, in D. C.  Even though I’d be warned off by a friend who knows his food, I was curious ( said friend said it sucked, btw).  But it’s José's place, after all, so off we went. 

Now, to say I was put off a little by being seated in the bar area, even though I had made a reservation weeks earlier, would be putting it mildly.  My mood was made (slightly) worse when my protestations fell of deaf ears, as we were told by one of the 3 or 4 hostetts that it would be another hour’s wait to sit somewhere else (like perhaps in the restaurant), and that they didn’t consider our table to be in the bar area, even though, ummm, it was in the fucking bar area.

I don’t know about you, but sitting in the bar area of a popular restaurant on a Friday night isn’t my idea of fun. Because sooner or later someone’s ass is gonna be about an inch from my guacamole, and at $13.50 an order, I prefer my guac sans ass, especially when it’s the ass of some tourist douche from Iowa.

Be that as it may, I guess all would have been forgiven if the food knocked me out; that way I could prove my friend wrong, which is always fun.  It didn’t…as a matter of fact, other than a really nice fresh hearts of palm and avocado salad, nothing was that exciting - not even the ass guac (okay, the chips and salsa were fine). 

Then it struck me; my last meal at Zaytinya, a place I’ve blogged and raved about in the past, wasn’t that great either.  I mean, sure, it was ok and all, but it lacked a certain zing that I recalled from previous meals. These were both meals, that once were finished and we walked outside, I said to Significant Eater: “We don’t have to go there again!”

So perhaps there are two lessons to be learned. One is for José and that is - don’t forget about all your other restaurants when you’re running around the world opening new ones and flogging yourself on TV.  And the second is for me and that is, listen to (some of) your knowledgeable food friends – they (sometimes) know of what they speak.

Chicken Salad in a French Style

First, I was going to call this post Poulet Salé aux Herbes.  But it turns out that means salted chicken with herbs, and after being corrected by a fellow blogger, I decided to go with the language I sometimes understand best - English.  Although when translated correctly from French, Chicken Salad with Herbs sounds nice - salade de poulet aux herbes - don't you think?

The great thing about chicken salad is that it’s a perfect way to use up leftover chicken; oh sure, you can cook some chicken expressly for this purpose, but if you’re like me and enjoy roasting a whole bird even if it’s only two for dinner, there are going to be some leftovers. Significant Eater and I enjoy eating the leg, thighs and wings right off of the roasted bird. It's fun sorta acting like 2 cave people, and those parts are so much tastier than the breast – but in a chicken salad, the flavor of the white meat gets a nice boost from everything else, so using the leftover breast meat works out perfectly.

The “French” part comes in because instead of the usual American deli-style chicken salad that’s loaded with mayonnaise, this one is dressed with the ingredients for a vinaigrette, along with a good handful of chopped herbs including that most French of all herbs, tarragon.

I find that shredding the chicken by hand, rather than cutting it up into cubes, makes for a more home-style salad, both visually and texturally.  In this case, picking the meat off the carcass actually results in shredded chicken, so that’s another reason to roast a whole bird…just wash your hands really well before you start.

Here are almost all of the ingredients for the salade...

Toss everything together along with salt and pepper to taste. Keep tasting and adjusting with lemon juice/vinegar and olive oil until it’s to your liking. This will make a great sandwich; I think it’s also perfect served on a bed of lettuce with some sliced tomatoes and avocado…

Chicken Salad With Herbs
2 cups shredded chicken
2 spring onions, sliced thinly
1 stalk celery, cut into small dice
2 T chopped parsley
2 T chopped celery leaves
1 T chopped tarragon
4 T olive oil
2 T lemon juice
2 T red or white wine vinegar
2 teaspoons mustard
Salt and pepper, to taste

Toss everything together gently and taste till you like it.

Of course you can make more.

Cocktail Hour - A Snack and a Fitty - Fitty

Sometimes, trying to decide what you want to serve with the night’s first cocktail can be a little daunting. Of course you can be a heathen and serve nothing, which is basically what “bars” in the US do.  Even at those fancy schmancy cocktail places, it’s your ($14) drink and nothing else. Oh, I’m not counting the dive bars and the special mix of pretzels, peanuts and cheddar goldfish that sit up in a salad bowl on the bar during happy hour, absorbing god-knows-what varieties of bacteria and viruses, just waiting to be inhaled along with your $2 PBRs. I mean, it’s food, but…I’m not eating it.

With Significant Eater home for a 4-day weekend, that first cocktail and first cocktail snack become even more important.  Sure, I could put out a bowl of nuts or olives, and we’d both be somewhat happy.  It’s often what you get in Europe when you go out for an apéritif, and it makes your drink just that much more appetizing and grown-up.  Civilized even.

So today, as we were strolling by a farm stand or two under the FDR Drive, we spotted these and I knew they’d make the perfect snack…

Little peppers are (were?) all the rage, since every place in the world that serves tapas has them on their menu. Usually they’re serving pimientos de padrón and the fun with padróns is that 1 in 10 of those little peppers are alleged to be super hot.  You eat them and, as they say, you takes your chances.

Note that these aren’t padróns, however; they’re shisitos and while they don’t come with a 10% chance of burning your tongue, they’re still damn good with the right drink.  So first, I heated up a cast-iron skillet till it was blazing hot…

Then threw the peppers in and blistered them all over…

And what about that all-important cocktail? I thought that a Fitty-Fitty, a drink we first sampled at Pegu Club many moons ago, might go well with the peppers. It gets its name from the fact that it’s half gin and half dry vermouth, with a few dashes of orange bitters. A Martini for those who don’t really like Martinis.  It’s herbal, vegetal and even a bit fruity, so I pulled out the ingredients for it... 

And before you know it, cocktail hour...

Fitty - Fitty (A Pegu Club variation)

1.5 oz. Good Gin (the Death's Door was quite nice, actually)

1.5 oz. Good Dry Vermouth

Few Dashes Orange Bitters 

Twist (and an olive if you so desire...and Sig Eater desires)

Stirred on ice until icy cold and served up, heathens.

Dinner For One a la Alain Ducasse

Cooking dinner for one's self isn't all that exciting.  Oh sure, you can make yourself a beautiful salad, or a nice one-dish meal, and that's just fine.  Something that'll give you leftovers the next day for lunch is always a plus.  But generally, are you roasting a chicken for yourself or making a pork roast or even preparing a big, fat steak? Along with a couple of sides?  My guess is no. Or at least not too often.

But since I 've had a bit of blogger's block lately, and since my blog is mostly about food and cooking, I figured if I started actually cooking when Significant Eater and I are in different cities, I might have that much more to blog about. Friggin' genius, eh?

Last week, while digging around in my freezer, I came across a steak I'd had frozen for a while and thought it would be good to use, since I wanted to try out the Ducasse method of cooking a steak over moderate heat on the stove top  (Alain Ducasse is considered one of the world's great chefs) and since I also wanted to empty my freezer of various frozen stuff that was reaching the end of it's lifespan.

Of course, me being me, I didn't follow the Ducasse directions exactly. But I did do what you all should do when following a recipe - read it from start to finish; that way you at least have some idea of what you're hoping to end up with.  It's also the first thing I learned in cooking school...read the damn recipe.

My steak happened to be a rib eye which is actually my favorite cut.  You'd never guess it was under here, but I always think these things will help keep the cook top clean, which, by the way, they don't...

The steak got turned after 10 minutes...

It's looking good, with a nice crust.  At the same time the steak was cooking, these were roasting in a hot oven...

And finally, the lonely man's dream frozen vegetable side dish (I always have them in the freezer - they come in so handy)...

One of the most important steps in that recipe you've read all the way through is the resting period.  I don't care if it's a steak, a pork chop or a roasted turkey. Let it rest before carving; end of story. Chef D. recommends resting a thick steak for about half the time it takes to cook it - I went a few minutes less, but not by much...

Perfectly medium rare, and exactly the way I like my steak cooked. Plated up with those vegetables and potatoes, and it's a meal you might even be tempted to  serve to someone other than yourself.  And it took less than an hour, start to finish...