You Say To-Mah-To

Since I'm probably the one millionth blogger to write about tomatoes this summer, I don't know how much more to add that most of you haven't already heard. Here on the east coast, of course, we've all been made aware countless times about the "late blight," a disease that affects tomato plants and which was also responsible for the infamous Irish potato famine of 1845. Yes, tomatoes and potatoes come from the same family of plants.

Since we all (foodies, chefs, writers, eaters, etc.) anxiously await the arrival of tomato season, our loss this year is deeply felt. Last year, pre-Tasty Travails, great tomatoes were in abundance. Here are a couple of shots I took of my farmer's market forays in '08:

As can be seen, no shortage of colors and varieties (there are various cherry, grape and heritage "cherry" tomatoes) last year. Same for the large heirlooms; 2008 was, iirc, a banner year, and I was making tomato salads throughout August and September and October. Here's just one, which looks as though it has 6 or 7 tomato varieties in it, along with some freshly torn basil, a bit of fresh mozzarella and a drizzle of olive oil:

Fast forward to this year, and no such luck...certainly not from local farmers. With the copius amount of rainfall early in the season, coupled with the blight, 2009 is shaping up to be a disastrous year for farmers and consumers alike. To be sure, tomatoes can be found. Maybe a farmer was lucky and his or her field survived unscathed. Perhaps the tomatoes were greenhouse grown. But many of the tomatoes I saw last week in the market were not too prime. And at $4 - $5 a pound, buying a not-prime tomato doesn't really work in my book.

However, I was able to cobble together a small sampling of heirlooms, and Significant Eater and I have had at least one nice tomato salad so far...the basil is great, by the way, so all is not lost. It just feels that way, and to all the tomato farmers and home gardeners out there, we wish you a better season in 2010. Here's my 2009 salad of heirlooms 3 ways:

For He's A Jolly Good Butcher

My favorite butcher in the world (well, if not the world, then on the lower east side of NYC) is Jeffrey Ruhalter, of Jeffrey's Meat Market in the Essex Street Market. For instance, check out this whole flat-cut brisket from Jeffrey, and the fat cap it drove in with...

Jeffrey's Meat Market has been in the Essex Street Market since the day the ESM opened, in 1939 or 1940. Opened as a way to get the street merchants of the lower east side off the streets and under one roof, the ESM has had some major ups and downs over the years. I wasn't here from the mid-70s till the mid-90s, and even when I came back, I didn't move downtown until 2003, so I can't speak from having shopped there during their long, lean years. I do recall a trip I took "back east" from California in the early 80s and heading down to Katz's, Ratner's and the ESM to check them out. Someday I may even find the pix I took back then, digitize them, and put them up on TT...but not now.

Right now, I have to think the ESM is on a big high. From chocolatiers to cheese mongers, to a couple of very nice, value oriented produce stands, I shop there a couple of times a week. Air conditioning is a newish feature, and they're actually tiling the floors...they were cement before. Jeffrey the butcher has been there through it all...well, if not Jeffrey himself, then one of his ancestors, as he's the 4th generation of butchering Ruhalter's, who started out way back in 1920 on Orchard Street.

What's really cool is that over the last 10 years ago or so, or for easily as long as Significant Eater and I have lived downtown, Jeffrey has become more and more of a celeb. Lots of reasons for that, but in my opinion, all these sexy new wave butchers getting a lot of press have Jeffrey to thank - if not directly, than at least for not letting butchery fall into the abyss.

Anyone I've ever brought to or sent to Jeffrey's has had positive experiences. Well, some actually get a little scared by him, as happened to our friend Judith, when Jeffrey told her to come behind the counter and cut her own meat...he does that, though I refuse to pick up a knife in his shop. Usually, first time customers get a freebie - be it a wheel of cheese (from his deli pickins') to whatever meat they're buying that day. He's given Significant Eater a $30, 10-week age prime rib steak (which he made sure to tell me was hers!) and another friend who has made the journey downtown with me got a whole, prime graded eye of chuck roast. Really, every neighborhood should have a Jeffrey's, and perhaps they once did.

What made me very happy today, however, was this article in the NY Times. Entitled Cuts of Meat, With a Side of Culture. It's all about Jeffrey, and his wonderful way with meat...and words.

“Do you know what a butcher really is?” he asked, steepling his hands as if in prayer. “A butcher is a member of your family who makes sure that what goes into your children’s stomachs is fresh, healthy and precisely what they need to survive.”

Check it out. And if you're in the neighborhood, check out Jeffrey's. On Essex and Delancey. Right outside the F train. You might walk away with a free hunk of cheese or perhaps a really nice steak. Maybe a beautiful piece of brisket like that one up top. And you'll always walk away with a smile on your face.

By the way, here's another shot of that brisket, after spending a day with me...

Russ & Daughters Delivers...Well, Almost

Many of my friends, all of my family and even those who don't know me, from Significant Eater on down, know how much I love Russ & Daughters. I've touted it on sites such as eGullet, where I volunteer as a host. I recommend it to people coming to the city when they ask where they might get the best appetizing (or bagel and lox) in Manhattan - because it really is the best (try the white fish salad, if you don't believe me). Over the years, I've sent Russ & Daughters gift boxes across the country to friends, and down to family members in Florida. SE and I have taken it to family get togethers - and serve it at home on those (rare) occasions when we have people over for breakfast...or, heaven forbid, brunch (my least favorite meal - why does it even exist?).

I digress. The other morning, we happened to have a friend here who had spent the night - same dude we sent Russ & Daughters to in California, by the way, when he and his wife had their first kid. So I figured, lets have appetizing...check out the wiki, and note the picture within their definition. Only, for the first time ever, I didn't feel like walking up to Houston Street and back - a slight hangover will do that to me - so I picked up the phone and called to see if they deliver...they certainly do, only not to my building!

Now, you gotta understand, if you look at their website , there's a fairly defined map. Our address in not technically on the map, but it's closer than a good percentage of the delivery area that is - including 2 of the 4 buildings in our co-op! We live in Seward Park Housing, one of the giant co-ops along Grand St., where 2 of the 4 buildings have addresses on Grand (within the delivery area, btw), but the other 2 (ours included) have addresses on East Broadway, which is evidently not. However, our front door can be entered from Clinton St., as can our sister building across the street - the one with the Grand St. address - only we're a block closer to the store. Still, no delivery...well, there is a delivery, but it'll cost you $13.50 please, to travel less far and take less time. The same amount they charge you to schlep up to 85th street on the upper west side. Makes no sense.

The best and most direct route to our building is .8 miles walking, according to Google. Every far-flung corner of their delivery map is .8 miles - well, except Broadway/Grand, which is actually further, at .9 miles. Take a look at this map, and the route to our building, to see why I gripe:


View Larger Map

Now, this morning, Russ & Daughters was kind enough to grant me clemency. Well, not really. I had to go out and meet the delivery guy on the corner of Grand and Clinton. Sorta like that Seinfeld episode where the Chinese delivery guy wouldn't cross 86th street to deliver Elaine's order and she has to adopt a janitor's closet on the other side of the street. Oy vey. I'm actually thinking of talk to my dry cleaners, with his address on Grand St.

Anyway, our co-op has 1,728 apartments. Yes, 1,728 apartments...and by not delivering to 50% of our co-op, Russ is basically saying we don't want those 850 or so apartments as customers. Lots of Jewish peeps too - I'm one, as is Significant Eater.

And even though the lox and gaspe and whitefish salad and herring and mini-bagels (which are the only ones I buy, cause the big bagels suck) and cream cheese were all as delicious as ever, I can't help thinking that founding patriarch Joel Russ would be giving his mishpucha a slap upside the head while saying "What's the matter? Another 10 yards is too far for you to walk? And what, you don't want another potential 800 customers? Mishugah."