Archives for the month of: June, 2011

Sunday, Roman style

June 13, 2011 //

In the couple years since it’s opened, Roman’s has become a staple of the Fort Greene restaurant scene. It’s the perfect place to have an early Sunday supper catching up with a friend – intimate, comforting, satisfying, Roman’s is that really great joint you always wished for in your neighborhood. You feel a secret pride at having a local spot that serves a daily sour and bitter cocktail and a dark chocolate & sea salt sorbet so good it could almost make you weep.

And it doesn’t make a big deal out of it. It’s not a destination restaurant and that’s precisely what makes you want to go there. It feels local, it feels like it’s all yours, even when you are rubbing elbows at the bar with fifteen others crowded around plates of gnudi or the daily crostini. It doesn’t promise elation or gourmet thrills, so when it delivers – and it usually does – it’s all the more gratifying. That’s the genius behind the Marlow partners – their restaurants insist, “I’m no big deal.” “Oh, hey, try this cicerchie puree with marinated kale, not bad, right?” Non c’è male!

Tonight my friend Sarah and I caught up over shared plates of three courses. The menu changes daily, like at Diner and Marlow & Sons, and the hardest decision is choosing what to eat when you know you may not see that special ever again.

After plenty of hemming and hawing we decided on the bibb head lettuce with a Stracchino cheese dressing and scallions for our first course. The salad was pleasingly bitter – crunchy and fresh with plenty of creamy dressing to coat the greens. For the second course, bucatini with tomatoes, olives, and house-cured tuna – I couldn’t pass up a dish with all my favorite flavors of Rome. For our third course, roasted stone bass with cucumber, farro, and yogurt. The bass had a beautiful brown crust, its richness cut by the cool crispness of the cucumber and runny yogurt. And farro…what is there left to say about farro except I could eat it every day and not miss rice or pasta.

For dessert we shared the pound cake that’s made with ricotta and what has to be corn meal and possibly olive oil, with fresh whipped cream and small, juicy strawberries. (I can’t seem to get enough of strawberries this month – before we know it they’ll be gone from the market and I’ll only have these fond memories to carry me until next year.)

One of my favorite memories from my time in Rome is doing Sunday like the Romans. A good, slow meal with family and friends early in the evening then a long stroll through the piazza, maybe a gelato or a night cap. Fort Greene may be a long way away but tonight I had all the flavors of Rome right in my backyard.

Categories Uncategorized

Skillet Enchiladas

June 7, 2011 //

It all started with a corn tortilla. Not just any corn tortilla. The Hot Bread Kitchen handmade corn tortillas lovingly pressed by hand and cooked over a hot comal.

My friend Mark loves these tortillas, and tortillas in general. So when I saw them at the co-op last week I couldn’t resist picking up a package of six. (They sell these at the greenmarket in Union Square on Wednesdays too.) I figured they’d go well with all the black turtle beans in our cupboard, if nothing else.

So finally this weekend Mark and I had the opportunity to cook together – we had previously soaked and cooked the black beans so that part was done. They were fragrant with bay leaves and garlic. Feeling ambitious, despite the late hour we were starting, we decided on enchiladas, rather than what would have been the quicker (but perhaps less gratifying) tacos with beans. With spring onions and asparagus in the fridge from a recent greenmarket purchase, we decided on braising these in the oven as a side dish.

The fridge and spice cupboard revealed the additional makings for the enchiladas; there was Carr Valley Bread Cheese from Murray’s Cheese (it’s a Finnish-style, mild, oven-baked cheese), and the true stars (and work horses) of this dish: Guajillo Chili Peppers from Penzeys Spices and Happy Quail Farms Pepper Chips from the San Francisco Bay Area, transported to Brooklyn on Mark’s carry-on recently.

The first thing we had to do was soak the peppers in a hot water bath – this becomes the basis for the spicy enchilada sauce. We boiled 1-2 cups of water in the kettle then poured it over the peppers in a bowl, and let soak for 20 minutes.

Peppers hydrating in hot water

As these were soaking I added the onions to a cold water bath to thoroughly clean these sandy alliums for our vegetable side dish. I changed the water once or twice to make sure they were free of all grit then patted dry.

I pre-heated the oven to 400 degrees and into a glass casserole dish went 3 tbsp unsalted butter, 1/2 c white wine, and the onions (with green tops and all). Mark grated some fresh nutmeg over the onions, and added salt and lots of freshly ground black pepper. Then into the oven, uncovered, for 20-25 minutes. I washed the asparagus stalks (about 1/2 pound) and set aside (these guys will get steamed and later added to the onion dish).

Grating nutmeg over the onions

Back to the enchiladas…now comes the fun part. Using a food mill we puréed the peppers over a large bowl (liquid and all) for what seemed like quite a long time – just when I’d think I couldn’t possibly squeeze anything else from these peppers Mark would say gently, “Just a little more.”

Transferring the peppers to the food mill

Puréeing the peppers

When there really was little life left to squeeze out of the peppers we added an 8-ounce can of tomato sauce – this thickens the overall sauce, adding more body and, crucially, tempers the heat. We also then slowly added somewhere between 4-5 tbsp of olive oil.

Adding olive oil to the puréed tomato-pepper sauce

At this point it was time to remove the braised onions from the oven and steam the asparagus on the stovetop for five minutes. We added the asparagus to the baking dish and mixed it with the lovely juices of the braising liquid and onions. Keep warm, set aside.

Asparagus and spring onions in white wine and butter

It was almost time to soak the tortillas in the sauce – but the sauce was still fiery hot so we added about 2 tbsp honey to smooth out the flavor. It still packed a lot of heat but not unbearably so. Then we added the tortillas to the sauce to soak them and make the tortillas more pliable (you wouldn’t want to soak as long with fresh or homemade tortillas, but these HBK ones come refrigerated so they’re not quite malleable) and absorb the flavors. We couldn’t get them soft enough to roll up entirely, so we decided to leave them in the shape of a taco, half-folded.

Tortillas meet sauce

We coated the bottom of a cast-iron skillet (it was either a 10- or 12-inch pan) with a bit of the sauce then folded each tortilla and placed in the skillet. To each tortilla we added slices of the cheese then the black beans. We topped the whole dish off with the remaining fiery sauce before putting into the still-hot 400-degree oven for 15-20 minutes.

When I checked on the enchiladas the tortillas had turned a crispy brown and the beans were bubbling along with the melted, creamy cheese.

When ready to serve we squeezed fresh lime over the enchiladas and dove in. Served with the spring onion-asparagus dish we had ourselves a mouthwatering, eye-watering, good meal. It was topped off by a dessert of Mark’s homemade strawberry shortcake, a cool finish to the evening somewhere ’round midnight.

Hot enchiladas in the skillet

Categories Asparagus, Beans, Cheese, Enchiladas, Farmer's Market, Mexico, Savory, Spring

Shacking Up

June 3, 2011 //

There comes a time in every New Yorker’s life when you just need a little shake. And when your time comes, head over to Madison Square Park to, where else, Shake Shack. Danny Meyer’s take-out stand of burgers, shakes, and fries opened shop in 2004 and quickly became the destination for the kind of classic American food you usually find at roadside summer stands or boardwalks. It also reminds me of the A&W on Route 7 as you head south out of Middlebury, Vermont. There, you pull in in your car and are served by waitresses on roller blades who bring the food right to your car window! I’m convinced one can have nothing but good memories at these places.

This being Manhattan, the lines at the Shack are infamously long. So before heading over you can actually check out the Shack Cam, a real-time view of the line snaking through the southeastern part of Madison Square Park on 23rd Street.

Three former Phaidon coworkers were overdue for a lunch date, and since the weather forecast called for clear skies and warm sun, eating in the park seemed a no-brainer. (Although runners up on our list included ABC Kitchen and Boqueria). I’m not lucky enough to have “summer Fridays,” those coveted half-days some employers offer between Memorial Day and Labor Day, but could skip out of work just long enough to wait in the 50-minute line and devour the Shack Burger (cooked medium, with American cheese, lettuce, tomato, and something called ShackSauce) with crinkle fries.

My companions sampled the thick chocolate milkshake, lemonade, the New York dog, and ‘Shroom Burger (a crisp-fried portobello burger). Next time, I’ve decided, I will try the Concrete Jungle. The “Concretes” are “dense frozen custard blended at high speeds with toppings and mix-ins.” The Concrete Jungle is no less than a high-speed blend of vanilla custard, hot fudge, bananas, and peanut butter (in other words, my food nirvana). But I will have to prepare for this mentally and physically and I didn’t feel up to the jungle today. Personally I think Shake Shack should also add a fish burger to its menu – a nice crispy fillet with homemade tartar sauce and lemon – don’t hold out on us Danny!

Shack Shake is the kind of place I wish I could take my grandma to. I think she’d love the frozen custard and the small, thin-style patty. But then again, I don’t think anyone in her generation could conceive of waiting in line for an hour for a burger, even a really great one.