Spring Break New York, pt 1

While others might make their way to Daytona Beach or St. Pete for Spring Break, in search of sun, sand, and sin, we headed to New York, in search of, well, spring (that would be nice), sun (that would make things even better),

 fig. a:  the gang's all here

and fine dining (always important).  And good wine.  And specialty foods, especially Italian.  And, last, but not least, some quality social time with our friends R & MA.

Turns out, we picked the right weekend.  It was downright warm, with plenty of sunshine, all weekend long.  And, apparently, it was the first time New York had had such nice weather since 2013.  It sure seemed like it.  It felt like the entire city was out on the streets and in the parks, taking it all in.  And the first signs of spring started to appear on the landscape.

 fig. b:  spring comes to Manhattan

Highlights:

Sullivan Street Bakery still bakes some fine flatbreads, and when you're heading to East 57th via the Henry Hudson Parkway, it makes an easy stop.  We picked up three different kinds this time, but our favourite was the potato pie once again.

The Grand Central Oyster Bar & Restaurant remains one of New York's great dining rooms and one of our favourite places for seafood & beer--plus, the service is always classic.  All it took was a few dozen oysters, some clams casino, a smoked fish platter, a couple of pan roasts, and a few cold ones to make us forget we'd ever been on the road that day.

We'd been to the Chelsea Market plenty of times back in the day, but it turns out we'd never been to the elaborate food court version of the Chelsea Market.  The Chelsea Market claims that its shops, restaurants, and stalls attract somewhere in the neighbourhood of 5 to 6 million visitors every year to its repurposed and reconditioned former National Biscuit Company factory location, and, having visited on a busy Saturday afternoon, I don't doubt that figure.  It felt like a teeming hive in there, but at least there was just cause for those throngs:  there were definitely a lot of tempting treats to be had.  But we already had lunch plans in the works, so we put the blinders on and focused our attention on two places:  Buon Italia and The Lobster Place.

Buon Italia had a great selection of Italian specialty items, but what we liked about it the most was its no-frills approach and its reasonable prices.  Actually, that's not true--what we liked about it the very most was its Sardinian pane carasatu.  And its Easter displays, like its marzipan fruits (and mushrooms).

 fig. c:  Easter treats

We had to keep our purchases at The Lobster Place to a minimum, because it was early in the day and it was going to be hours before we returned to our accommodations.  So all we got, really, were a few cans of Spanish canned anchovies, but the place was driving us nuts because this was the very best, freshest, most beautiful selection of seafood we'd seen since Cape Cod.  If the circumstances would have been different, we would have gone to town.

Michelle has had to listen to me wax poetic about Umami Burger for a few years now, and L.A. has proven elusive since then, so when I read that they'd opened up shop in New York City, we decided to make a visit a priority.  Man, am I ever glad that we did.  I didn't love the location as much as the Hollywood one, but the burgers--three Originals and one green chile-laced Hatch burger--sure tasted good.  And the fried pickles and onion rings were pretty choice, too.  Our entire party was hugely impressed.  In fact, I had to physically restrain Michelle to keep her from ordering a second Original burger (parmesan crisp, shiitake mushrooms, roasted tomato, caramelized onions, house ketchup) "for dessert."  That, my friends, is the power of umami.

 fig. d:  Flatiron District

Later that same afternoon we found ourselves inside that multi-ring circus that is Eataly, just off Madison Square Park and right across the street from the Flatiron Building (you can see there in the photograph above, off to the right).  I thought I'd never been there before, but, as it turns out, I had:  I was in that very same location over a decade earlier for a wedding, back when it was an event space.  With the drinks flowing, a red-hot band on stage, and some dirty dancing on the floor, that wedding had been a pretty crazy occasion, but, I dare say, Eataly on a Saturday afternoon is even crazier.  The gelato line alone was about half a mile long.  Elsewhere, the store had the feel of a department store on Christmas Eve:  pure mayhem.  But, once again, if you hung in there and kept your wits about you, there were amazing finds to be had:  more pane carasatu, anchovy juice, artisanal mostardas, and every style of pasta imaginable, including a number of different kinds of our favourite, corzetti.  We were seriously tempted by the notion of having a late-afternoon snack at Il Pesce, the in-house seafood restaurant that's under the oversight of Dave Pasternack.  And the charcuterie section was pretty tantalizing, too--voracious diners were downing beautiful platters of cheese and cold cuts with their wine.  In the end, we decided to replicate the charcuterie section back in the comfort and splendour of R & MA's apartment--so I picked up some mortadella, some prosciutto, some salumi al finocchio, and a selection of cheeses and we were off!

To be continued...

Sullivan Street Bakery, 533 W. 47th Street, NYC, (212) 265-5580

Grand Central Oyster Bar, Grand Central Station, NYC, (212) 490-6650

The Chelsea Market, 75 9th Avenue, NYC

Umami Burger, 432 6th Avenue (a.k.a., Avenue of the Americas), NYC, (212) 677-8626

Eataly, 200 5th Avenue, NYC, (212) 229-2560

aj

¡Ándele! ¡Ándele! ¡Jaiba! ¡Jaiba!

Spring used to come in like a lion 'round these parts, but mostly it just arrives in fits and starts these days, feinting and dodging, teasing and mocking.  Sure, you'll get some warm, toasty days every now and then, but there's sure to be a few bitterly cold days (and nights), too.  And like our friend at the dépanneur down the street says, "You can't be sure of anything until May 15."  And even then...

 fig. a:  printemps québécois

Anyway, signs of spring usually begin sometime in March in Montreal (like most places in the Northern Hemisphere), but, foodwise, it takes a while to see a whole lot of rebirth going on.  With the exception of maple syrup, most of our spring flavours tend to show up in May and June.

Which is why snow crab is of such importance to people like us.  Not only are we enormous fans of crabmeat, but snow crabs are one of the earliest spring arrivals, and snow crab season is really the only time of the year we can get fresh, live, and regional crab here in Montreal.  Officially, the season is said to last from April to November, but our experience has been that in actual fact it's a very short season, lasting no more than about 6-8 weeks.  But, oh, is it ever sweet.  Or, at least, it can be.  And it's going on now.

Just how excited about snow crab are we?

Well, Michelle and Seth have been preparing a lovely snow crab pasta dish as part of their Quebec Spring/Printemps québécois menu at the Foodlab.  It features handmade/housemade tagliatelle cooked to perfection and tossed with a medley of spring vegetables (string beans, peas, shallots, and the first of the cherry tomatoes from our friends at Birri Brothers), herbs (chives and parsley), a generous helping of snow crab meat, and a beautiful crab cream.

And here at home we've been going to town on our very favourite tacos in the entire world:  tacos stuffed with salpicón de jaiba.



 fig. b & c:  crab tacos!

We've featured this recipe before, but it's an absolutely essential one, and a great way to stretch your crabmeat a little further, because, god knows, those snow crabs are tasty, but they can also be quite costly.  Here it is again, revised and updated:

Salpicón de Jaiba 

1 tbsp vegetable oil
1/4 cup finely chopped white onion
1/3 cup finely chopped celery
2 serrano or jalapeño chiles, seeded and finely chopped
1 cup cooked, shredded crabmeat
1 tbsp finely chopped cilantro
1/8-1/4 tsp crushed chili pepper blend (some combination of ancho, pasilla, arbol, chipotle, and/or New Mexico grande chiles)
salt to taste

Heat the oil in a skillet and cook the onion gently until translucent.  

Add the celery and sauté for about one minute.  Add the fresh chiles and sauté for 30-60 seconds.   

Add the crabmeat and fry until it is warmed through and begins to brown ever so slightly.  The mixture should be rather dry--remember, you're going to be placing it in a taco. 

Lastly, take the mixture off the heat, add the cilantro, salt, and chili blend, and toss, allowing the flavours to mingle for a minute or two before serving.

Serve with hot tortillas and plenty of fixings, like pico de gallo, sour cream or crema, hot sauce, and limes.

Makes enough to fill at least 8-10 corn tortillas. 

[based on a recipe from Diana Kennedy's The Essential Cuisines of Mexico]

Might seem a little strange to make Mexican tacos with Quebec crab, but, trust me, a little cultural exchange can be a good thing.

 fig. d:  Juan Carlos, the Mexican crab

 fig. e:  Jean-Charles, the Quebec snow crab

Go, Crabs, go!

aj

New Ways to Boost Your Grain Power 3: Oats!

 fig. a toaster, oats

It's funny that this is the last recipe to appear in the New Ways to Boost Your Grain Power series, because in many ways this was the recipe that got me started on this train of thought.

It all started back in about the spring of 2010.  I'd been reading and re-reading issue #82 of The Art of Eating (Fall 2009) for a while, especially its cover story on new bistros and "the casualization of dining" in Paris ("New Ways to be a Restaurant in Paris," by Bénédict Beaugé and Edward Behr).  I was fascinated by its description of the new crop of bistros and micro-bistros in Paris, and the way these restaurants were redefining the dining scene there:  by making it less stuffy and more affordable, yes, but also by highlighting regional cuisines in a way that was helping to expand notions of bistro cuisine. And I studied the accompanying recipes closely.  Very closely, in fact, because there was one recipe that I just couldn't wrap my head around.

It was a recipe for Haferflockensuppe from Nicholas Scheidt of L'Office, and it was billed as an Alsatian specialty.  You see, I'd yet to Boost My Grain Power back then, and it literally took me weeks to decipher what I was reading.  I couldn't figure out why this wouldn't just result in an unusually savoury bowl of oatmeal.  Finally, after going back to that same recipe over and over and over again, it suddenly made sense to me.  I had something of a "Eureka!" moment.  It wasn't just an "oatmeal soup" (as a strict translation of the name would suggest), like every other recipe in this New Ways to Boost Your Grain Power series, the key had to do with the toasting of grains--in this case, the toasting of oats.  You see, it may very well be that mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy divey, and that's all fine and good, but, here, it's very important that you begin this recipe with toasted oats.

With its combination of butter, bacon, oats, cognac, sour cream, and chicken stock, this might seem like kind of a wintery soup, and it is, but it's actually pretty ideal as an early spring soup, too, especially around here, where the fluctuations in temperature can be a bit of a rollercoaster ride (a cruel one) in March and April.  You see, it's got some of the greens that you're craving, like chervil and spring onions, but it's also plenty hearty enough for an unseasonably brisk day.  (In fact, tomorrow would be an ideal day for Haferflockensuppe--it's predicted that we're going to get 10-15 cm of snow [?!!].)  And it's easy, too, once you have the necessary ingredients, including a good (homemade, preferably) chicken stock.  You just have to take the time to carefully brown your oats to toasty, golden perfection, and everything else pretty well takes care of itself.

I offer you the recipe as it originally appeared in The Art of Eating.  I've found that one can tone down the amount of butter and oil significantly, and still wind up with the desired richness of flavour.  Everything else I'd keep exactly as is, although if you happen to have pumpernickel croutons around, instead of plain old country bread croutons, all the better.

Haferflockensuppe 

75g oat flakes (3/8 cup)
100g butter (1/2 cup)
4 tsp veg oil
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 thick slice bacon, cut into lardons
2 bay leaves
2 tbsp cognac
1 litre chicken stock
salt and pepper
4 eggs
1 slice country bread, cut into croutons
chervil, 1 bunch, minced
spring onions, thinly sliced
4 tsp sour cream 

Brown the oat flakes in half the butter and half the oil, with the garlic, bacon and bay leaves. Deglaze with the cognac, add stock and simmer 20 min. Remove the bay leaves and season to taste. 

Pan fry the eggs (or poach them for a finer look and taste), season them, brown the croutons in the remaining oil and butter, and season. 

Slide one egg in the bottom of each soup bowl (shallow ones make for a more dramatic presentation), pour some soup around it so the yolk still emerges, sprinkle with chervil, croutons, and spring onions. Finish with a dollop of sour cream.

Is it starting to make sense?  It will when you taste it.

aj

Springtime in Montreal

fig. a: lamb roast, Mtl

For those of you who're discovering us for the first time thanks to Donna Nebenzahl's profile of "...an endless banquet" in the Spring 2012 issue of Urban Expressions, welcome!

For those of you who haven't seen the article in Urban Expressions, but would like to know more about springtime in Montreal à la AEB, check it out!   You'll find us waxing poetic about a number of our favourite rites of spring, as well as a number of accompanying photographs by Yours Truly.

You'll also find two springtime recipes:  the Hummus Sardwich with fresh chick peas, and the Gin Tonic.

And if you're interested in some related links, here you go:

ramps 1 & 2

snow crab 1 & 2

fresh chick peas

maple water

sugar shacks 1 & 2

artichokes 1 & 2

Spring came early this year.  Let's continue to make the most of it, Montreal.

aj

Thrill of the grill 1

Sure, there's something undeniably magical about barbecue that's been cooked slow and low with patience and care, the kind of barbecue that's the focus of Saveur's June/July 2011 "BBQ Nation" double issue. We love the entire culture that surrounds this heritage form of barbecue. We love all the fussing, the beer-drinking, and the jawing that goes into an all-day barbecue session. And we never cease to be amazed by the transformative power of that holy smoke coupled with the mild heat from those ashy coals.

fig. a: thrill of the grill

But sometimes you just want the pure thrill of the grill. You want the slight blackening, the light smokiness, the caramelized flavors, and the primal pleasures of cooking directly over flames. You want the payoff to come sooner rather than later. You want to take full advantage of the fact that cooking over a hot grill can be quick and easy.

Among our favorite sources for this kind of grilling are Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers, the chefs behind London's legendary River Cafe and the authors of the utterly brilliant "Easy" series: River Cafe Cookbook Easy (2003) and Italian Two Easy: Simple Recipes From the London River Cafe (2006). Both cookbooks fall under the "simple recipes for busy people" genre, but their concision, their clarity, and their clever minimalist design put them in the top of their class.

Years ago, we featured a recipe of theirs from River Cafe Cookbook Easy that we'd adapted for the grill. The recipe was for pork chops with lemon, and Gray and Rogers called for it to be executed it in an ovenproof griddle pan, but it was a lovely late-spring afternoon and we were very much in a grilling state of mind, and our simple adaptation of their simple recipe (two ingredients!) turned out beautifully. We could have just as easily chosen from the dozens of grilling recipes contained in Gray and Rogers' two books, but, in that particular case, we started with a very specific ingredient: the pork chops.

One recipe that we haven't had to adapt, and that's been a favorite around here recently, is a recipe that appears in the "grilled fish & meat" chapter of Italian Two Easy: Simple Recipes From the London River Cafe and that bears a typically matter-of-fact title: Flattened Sardine, Chile, Lemon.

fig. b: sardines by River Cafe

Four ingredients--that's it, that's all. And once you've figured out how to butterfly your sardines, you're almost to the finish line, because flattened sardines cook even faster than whole ones.

The lemon and the olive oil are no-brainers. They're both staples of Mediterranean grilling. It's the butterfly technique, the use of the lemon zest, and the added kick of the chiles that are the stroke of genius here.

Flattened Sardine, Chile, Lemon

16 sardines
4 dried hot chiles
5 lemons
extra-virgin olive oil

To flatten the sardines, cut off the head and then prize open the fish. Press down to loosen the bone, then remove it from the flesh, pulling gently with your fingers.

Crumble the chiles. Finely grate the zest from the three lemons; halve the remaining lemons.

Prepare the grill.

Rub the flesh of the sardines with chile, salt, pepper, and lemon zest.

fig. c: sardines by AEB

Place skin-side down on the grill and cook for 1 to 2 minutes. Turn over and grill flesh-side down for 1 to 2 minutes longer.

Drizzle with olive oil, and serve with lemons.

[recipe from Italian Two Easy: Simple Recipes From the London River Cafe, by Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers]

A couple of additional notes:

1) Because the sardines we've been using have been rather delicate, we've found that they cook best on the outer edges of a medium-hot grill (the cooking times remain the same--about two minutes per side). We've been saving the center of our grill for the assortment of vegetables we've been grilling simultaneously: mushrooms, scallions, fennel, ramps, asparagus, etc.

2) Gray and Rogers don't specify, but you're going to need a spatula to handle those delicate sardines once you've placed them on the grill. Other implements tend to tear the poor dears.

This recipe is, well... easy. It's also incredibly delicious--addictive, even. The only trick is finding a good source for your fresh sardines. This is reasonably easy in some parts of North America (like Northern California), but not so easy in others.

Montreal has such a large number of citizens of Portuguese and Italian descent that the demand for sardines is high, but our experience has been that some days of the week are much better than others. We've been having very good luck on Mondays recently, so our sardine fiestas have tended to be on Mondays.

This recipe makes for a great starter for a group, but it also makes for a great light meal for two, with a salad, some bread, and a crisp white. We can attest to that. These sardines--delicate, crispy, piquant, and easy--have been the taste of late spring around here. And, like I said, they're addictive. They might very well become the taste of the summer of 2011 too.

aj

p.s. Rose Gray passed away in early 2010. May she rest in peace.