Connect the Dots, or Slouching Towards Bushwick and (Many) other Tales of the City

Late spring found members of Team AEB collaborating with Team Twitchy on a fast, furious, and highly caffeinated 2-day tour of New York. If you were to connect the dots, it would go something like this:

fig. a: Roberta's façade

1. Roberta's

How do you describe a pizza joint like Roberta's?

I'd heard great things about Roberta's. (And this being New York, Roberta's detractors were both plentiful and vocal.) I also knew full well that it was located in Bushwick, with all that that entails. Even so, I just wasn't prepared for the Roberta's experience.

From the homely, auto body shop-like exterior (the restaurant is housed in a former garage), to the eclectic urban bricolage of its dining room/pizza kitchen, tiki garden, greenhouses, vegetable & herb gardens, and radio station (?), Roberta's was unlike any serious, new-school, hardcore-Neapolitan-pizza-oven-wielding pizza joint I'd ever been to. Aspects of Roberta's reminded me of Waitsfield, VT's American Flatbread--the communitarian atmosphere, the loopy pizza nomenclature, the emphasis on sustainability, etc.--but Roberta's represented the very opposite of AF's back-to-nature ideology. This joint was long-haired, heavily bearded, and hippyish, but it was all about taking back the city. Other aspects reminded me of Joan Didion's seminal "Slouching Towards Bethlehem." This is a place to be taken with a grain of salt--or a tab of acid. All that said, the night we went, our party might have been a little bemused, but we came close to achieving instant karma--Roberta's food was right on.

fig. b: Roberta's tiki garden

Now, perhaps not surprisingly, Roberta's has its detractors (some of them vehement), but it's also got no shortage of supporters, and business is brisk. The night we went, there was a bit of a wait before we could be seated, so we took the opportunity to down a couple of frosty ones in the tiki garden, and to check out the premises.

fig. c: gardening at night

An impressive complex of greenhouses has been built on top of parts of the Roberta's compound, and a vacant lot beyond has been transformed into a massive container-gardening operation, utilizing containers of all kinds. Even bathtubs. Inside, piggy banks scattered around the dining room solicit donations to help support Roberta's Farm Fund.

Half an hour later, we were seated at a communal table, and we'd moved onto sipping Italian reds by the glass. Our pizzas consisted of a Margherita and a The Lupo (pesto, mozzarella, prosciutto cotto, smoked mozzarella, and spring garlic),* and we rounded things out with a hefty, incredibly juicy pork chop, served with farro, guanciale, and mizuna greens. All three were so totally rad that they didn't really fill me up--they just gave me the munchies. I was ready to work my way through the entire menu.

2. Gimme!

The folks at Gimme! got started in the Ithaca area--and that area is still home to their HQ--but they've now got two locations in NYC: one on Mott St. in SoHo/NoLIta, and another on Lorimer St. in Williamsburg. We'd been to the Mott St. location before, but this time, because our home base was in Brooklyn, it was all about the Lorimer St. location, where the staff were friendly and happy to oblige, and the espressos were expertly pulled and awfully tasty.

fig. d: inside Russ & Daughters

3. Russ & Daughters

There's more to the legendary Russ & Daughters (how legendary?--check out Anthony Bourdain's encomium in the photo above) than just bagels, gravlax, smoked fish, rollmops, candies, nuts, and halavah.

fig. e: UEC

There's also their absolutely amazing ultimate egg cream. Takes 'em about 5 minutes to make it because they pour (and stir) so much love and attention into it, but it's so worth the wait. If there's a better egg cream alive, I haven't encountered it.

Plus, the folks at R & D are such sweethearts. And they love to gab. And I love smoked fish. I could spend the whole day there.

fig. f: inside Milk Bar

4. Milk Bar

Milk Bar was something of a pilgrimage. Michelle's been following Christina Tosi's reign of catch-as-catch-can dessert mayhem closely over the last couple of years, so we were curious to visit Milk Bar up-close and in-person. And with good reason. With all the talk of the nostalgia values of recent dessert trends (cupcakes, doughnuts, whoopie pies, etc.), Tosi is one of the few people who's really pushed things further--she's also done so more inventively. Take her trademarked "cereal milk," which simulates the flavor of the leftover milk at the bottom of a just-finished bowl of cereal (Grape Nuts?), and which she's made available as a "milk" and as a soft-serve ice cream. Want to add to the layers of nostalgia? How about topping that cereal-milk ice cream with some "cornflake crunch" or, even better, "potato chip crunch"? Of course, Tosi's deliciously playful take on pop culture has also made her a major player in a scene the New York Times has labeled "haute stoner cuisine."

We got ourselves primed for our Milk Bar sugar shock by having a Ssäm Bar pork bun as an appetizer. Milk Bar is mainly a dessert outpost, but the space is connected to Ssäm Bar, and they do offer a few items that are on the savory tip. Once we'd gotten that into our system, we tried a selection of Milk Bar's soft-serve ice creams (blueberry muffin! cinnamon bun!!), and then moved on to the cookies, pies, and cakes section of the menu.

fig. g: truffles by Milk Bar

Tosi's "truffles" were a good way to sample the cakes. They're essentially bite-sized portions of the cakes that have been rolled up into a truffle-like form, and you get 3 for $3. Curious about Milk Bar's "birthday cake" cake, but hesitant to shell out the $38 it costs for a full-sized cake? Get yourself a packet of "birthday cake" truffles. We did.

fig. h: compost never tasted so good

As much as I liked the truffles and the "candy bar" pie, my favorites were the cookies. At $1.85 each or 6 for $10, Milk Bar's cookies are extremely affordable, and some of them, like the kitchen-sink appeal of the "compost" cookie** and the creamed corn/comfort food qualities of the "corn" cookie, are strokes of genius.

5. Third Rail

Third Rail was probably my favorite coffee bar of our visit. It was certainly the smallest and the cutest. And it's conveniently located just a block away from Washington Square. My late-afternoon macchiato was totally gratuitous (again, as I mentioned above, when you roll with Team Twitchy, you tend to have a fair bit of caffeine coursing through you system pretty much all the time--high-quality caffeine), but somehow it still managed to taste like my first of the day.

fig. i: impromptu ice cream picnic

6. Beez Kneez Ice Cream

One afternoon we were lying in the grass and taking in the sun and the views in Williamsburg's East River State Park when some Aussie came by and asked us if we were interested in some ice cream.

Why, yes, we are interested in some ice cream. Thanks for asking.

He pulled a container out of his cooler, handed us a couple of spoons, and the next thing we knew we were eating Australian ice cream made with real Australian honey. Was Beez Kneez ice cream as "killer" as their website claims? Well, it was pretty darned good, and the honey did taste pretty exotic, and, besides, how many artisanal ice cream companies can you think of that deliver?

How do you find Beez Kneez ice cream? Why, on Twitter, of course

fig. j: Franny's negroni

7. Franny's

It had been a while since either of us had been to Franny's. Much too long a while. Our first two experiences were all about Franny's justly famous pizza pies, and both experiences were breathtaking. This time around we took a very different tack. L. had a theory. She insisted that as outstanding as Franny's pizzas were/are, their real strong suit was their line of pasta dishes. And their cocktails. Quite specifically, L. claimed Franny's was serving the Negroni to end all Negronis. Now, we already had a dinner date planned, but it was 6:00 pm, and an absolutely beautiful evening, an evening that was just begging for a Negroni, so the next thing I knew, there we were, having a couple of Franny's phenomenal Negronis with a spaghetti chaser. Now, I'm not sure that this pasta dish eclipsed Franny's pizzas (I still have dreams about their clam pie), but it certainly lived up to the standards I've come to expect from them. Chickpeas, minced garlic, crushed chili peppers, slivers of fresh mint, and some truly perfect pasta--so simple, so honest, so extraordinarily satisfying. Now that's what I call Happy Hour.

8. Aburiya Kinnosuke

Our dinner date that night was with our friends A. and J. and when it came to picking a restaurant, we deferred to their expert knowledge of New York's Japanese food scene. Their pick? Aburiya Kinnosuke, an elegant Midtown Japanese restaurant, specializing in robata grilled treats, fish dishes, and "tidbits for drinking." The atmosphere was semi-private yet convivial. We had our own little dining cubicle all to ourselves, but we were not detached in the least from the rather animated festivities going on all around us. Aburiya Kinnosuke was evidently making many of our fellow diners quite happy, and, I have to say, the vibe was infectious--especially when the beer and sake arrived.

I was excited to see all manner of robata dishes on the menu. I was even more excited when they began to appear before us. Among the night's highlights were a trio of pork sensations: organic berkshire pork simmered in brown sugar soju, grilled pork cheek, and black peppered berkshire pork. Oishii!

fig. k: inside Saltie 1

9. Saltie

Saltie was already one of Team Twitchy's favorites. It instantly became one of Team AEB's too. From the moment I set eyes on the place, I was sold. The decor. The color scheme. The Jim O'Rourke blaring from the stereo speakers.

fig. l: Saltie's Scuttlebutt

And then there's their specialty sandwiches. Like their truly amazing Scuttlebutt, which contained feta cheese, mixed greens, hard-boiled eggs, capers, pickles, and a roasted red pepper aioli, and was served on their house-made focaccia. Patrons have been known to fall head-over-heels in love with the Scuttlebutt. I've joined their ranks, but, unfortunately, mine is a long-distance affair.

fig. m: inside Saltie 2

Saltie is essentially a luncheonette, and they're closed on Mondays, so plan your visits wisely.

Oh, and they also make an awfully bold, awfully tasty buckwheat/olive shortbread and some wickedly beautiful fruit galettes.

fig. n: inside The Brooklyn Kitchen + The Meat Hook

10. The Meat Hook + The Brooklyn Kitchen

Two for the price of one.

Last summer we met a couple of Brooklynites in Montreal who told us they were just on the verge of opening a butcher shop/kitchen store/cooking class kitchen/kitchen studio complex. I can't remember how big they said it was going to be, but I remember it being BIG. Like, 650,000 square feet or something. I'm exaggerating, of course, but the project seemed so huge, so elaborate, so grandiose that I could barely wrap my head around it.

Then, 10 months later, I was taken to a neighborhood kitchen supply store, and, lo and behold, there it was. That butcher shop/kitchen store/cooking class kitchen/kitchen studio complex had materialized before my very eyes.

The Brooklyn Kitchen/The Meat Hook is not exactly Trump Tower (it's not even Zabar's)--it's actually remarkably modest in size--but it is just as ambitious as it was initially described to us, which means that there's a lot to keep the food-obsessed among us busy.

The Brooklyn Kitchen is a seriously well-stocked kitchen supply store with knowledgeable staff. They're worth visiting for their knife selection alone, which is impressively comprehensive, with German, Swiss, French, English, American, and Japanese models to choose from.

The Meat Hook is a old-school-as-new-school butcher shop fronted by local butcher extraordinaire Tom Mylan. Like their friends at Fleisher's, they only work with farmers that they trust and they only carve sustainably raised animals. Sausages are made fresh daily on weekdays. They carry artisanal bacons and country hams like Benton's. They're friendly and helpful, too. The real deal.

fig. o: inside Grumpy

11. Grumpy

I never actually ordered a coffee at Café Grumpy (Greenpoint), but, in the company of Team Twitchy, I got to check out their roasting operation and partake in a full-on coffee cupping exercise. My very first.

I also got to check out Grumpy's backroom blackboard--the one that lists all the coffees they've been roasting.

Not sure how to find Grumpy Greenpoint?

fig. p: limited edition Grumpy map

Here's a handy map, courtesy of Team Twitchy. Just look for Mr. Grumpy Face.

12. Trini-Gul

Shut out at A & A because it was already early afternoon and they were very much sold out, we continued along Nostrand and just chanced upon a relatively new Trini establishment called Trini-Gul. We were looking for doubles, and doubles they had. Cheap, too. Only $1.50. Not as spiced and herbal as those at A & A, but absolutely delicious nonetheless, and they came fully loaded with hot sauce, tamarind sauce, and minced cucumber (!).

H. was with us on this particular stop, and, frankly, she was a little skeptical. She'd never had doubles, never even heard of them, and she wasn't sure it was worth the stop.

She came out of the experience a true believer.

"What are these things called again? Doubles?"

Trini-Gul has that kind of effect on people.

figs. q & r: inside Hill Country

13. Hill Country

What can you say about a place like Hill Country?

More than just a Texas-style barbecue joint, more than just a Manhattan Texas-style barbecue joint, Hill Country is a Manhattanist theme park, a Manhattanist fantasy of Central Texas, of the region that encompasses Austin and Lockhart, of a region that's renowned for its music and its barbecue. Fittingly, Hill Country's signature barbecue is modeled after one of the undisputed Legends of Lockhart: Kreuz Market.

Now, they might have pushed things further and named it Hill Trash because there's something almost Cracker Barrel-esque about Hill Country (although it's so much more cleverly/tastefully appointed, as you can see from the photos above), and there's definitely something about Hill Country that's straight out of your standard male-fantasy beer commercial/promotion (think Bud Camp). The place is simply outrageous. And enormous. And overwrought.

Copious amounts of brisket, sausage, ribs, etc. are portioned right there in front of you and served counter-style on butcher's paper, and on the day we went there was also an honest-to-goodness pig pickin' taking place. You've got your meat counter, and your sides & fixings counter, and your drink counter. You've got waitresses in short shorts and tight tees providing real Texas hospitality on the dining room floor. You've got two floors to choose from, because Hill Country is a bi-level establishment. You've got live music and big-screen TVs, Hill Country cocktail bars and a Hill Country merch counter. Get the picture?

But somehow, against all odds, Hill Country actually delivers. The brisket could definitely have been smokier, but it could hardly have been any more moist and succulent. The smoked Kreuz sausages were total crowd-pleasers--the jalapeño cheese, in particular, was juicy, just the slightest bit fiery, and oozing with cheese. The campfire baked beans with burnt ends would have been at home on the range. The green bean casserole would have passed muster at a church fundraiser. And the banana cream pudding was a blue-ribbon winner.

And we're not the only ones who like Hill Country. We're in good company (that's right, Bruni named the place one of his top five restaurants in the world).

fig. s: Bklyn Larder's ricotta & wilted greens sandwich

14. Bklyn Larder

From the good people who brought you Franny's, comes Brooklyn Larder, a.k.a. Bklyn Larder LLC. Here, you can find Franny's phenomenal sweet fennel sausages and all the rest of their brilliant selection of charcuterie, along with baked goods, prepared foods (pickles, sides, main dishes, etc.), a small but surprisingly extensive cheese counter that specializes in the very best of the New American Cheeses, a small but tastefully chosen selection of artisanal beers (North American and European), and a tantalizing selection of chocolates, preserves, canned goods, and other specialty food items.

Be forewarned: Brooklyn Larder is the kind of place that makes you want to drop a whole whack of dough.

They also have a great selection of freshly prepared sandwiches, including a ricotta and wilted greens number that was ever so simple, and ever so right.

fig. t: Palisades Parkway Pork Bun Picnic

15. Milk Bar

You can never have too many Momofuku pork buns and you can never bring too many Milk Bar cookies home for your friends, so a return trip to Milk Bar was my final stop.

Just in time, too. This post is just ridiculous.

They don't call it the Big Onion for nothing, I guess. Come to think of it, that's kind of what I looked like by the end of this trip.

Roberta's, 261 Moore St., Brooklyn (Bushwick), (718) 417-1118

Gimme!, 495 Lorimer St., Brooklyn (Williamsburg), (718) 388-7771

Russ & Daughters, 179 East Houston St., Manhattan (Lower East Side), (212) 475-4880

Milk Bar, 207 2nd Ave. (@ 13th), Manhattan (East Village), (212) 254-3500

Third Rail, 240 Sullivan St., Manhattan (Greenwich Village), (555) 555-5555

Beez Kneez Creamery

Franny's, 295 Flatbush Ave., Brooklyn (Park Slope), (718) 230-0221

Aburiya Kinnosuke, 213 E. 45th St., Manhattan (Grand Central/Midtown East), (212) 867-5454

Saltie, 387 Metropolitan Ave., Brooklyn (Williamsburg), (718) 387-4777

The Brooklyn Kitchen + The Meat Hook, 100 Frost St. (virtually underneath the BQE), Brooklyn (Williamsburg), (718) 389-2982

Café Grumpy, 193 Meserole Ave., Brooklyn (Greenpoint), (718) 349-7623

Trini-Gul, 543 Nostrand Ave., Brooklyn (Crown Heights), (718) 484-4500

Hill Country, 30 West 26th St., Manhattan (Flatiron District), (212) 255-4544

Bklyn Larder, 228 Flatbush Ave., Brooklyn (Park Slope), (718) 783-1250

aj

Many thanks to Team Twitchy, A. and J., and H. Respect to all of you that this whirlwind visit didn't allow to see.

* Remember the "loopy nomenclature" I mentioned above? We seriously considered getting a Millennium Falco (tomato, Parmigiano, pork sausage, onion, basil, and breadcrumbs), and the Specken Wolf (speck, mushrooms, oregano, onions, and mozzarella) was tempting too, but in the end we opted for 1 classic, 1 special, and one main.

** Get this: pretzels, potato chips, coffee, oats, butterscotch, and chocolate chips.

A summer tart, in 140 characters or less...

fig. a: Michelle's summer tart

The other day, a reporter called me from La Presse asking for a Twitter-friendly recipe for a story on chefs who tweet. Luckily, I had just made this amazing little tart for some friends the night before and was more than ready for the challenge.

This tart is so simple, it hardly took 140 characters to write the recipe (of course, I had to leave out the instructions for the tart crust, and I also named it "tarte d'été," instead of "tarte aux framboises," in the interest of space). Light, elegant, lovely, this is a tart that really lets the raspberries shine. Invite some friends over and share it with a sparkling wine.

tarte d’été

un fond de tarte 6" cuit
fouetter 200g fromage blanc, 250g crème, sucre vanillé au gout
placer des framboises fraîches dessus

or

summer tart

1 6" tart crust, cooked
whip 200g quark cheese, 250g cream, vanilla sugar to taste
place raspberries on top

or, if tweets just aren't your thing, or you're not sure what recipe to use for the tart crust,

summer tart

crust:

125g flour
75g icing sugar
1/4 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt
100g butter, soft
1/2 egg white

Mix the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt in a small bowl. Add butter and rub in with fingers until it resembles a fine meal. Add egg white and mix to combine. Wrap in plastic wrap and chill at least 1 hour.

Roll out on a floured surface to 1/8" thick. Place in 6" tart pan and carefully tamp down the sides. Trim off excess crust and chill 30 minutes. Place a layer of tin foil on the crust and fill it with pie weights or dried beans. Blind bake at 375º F for 10 minutes, remove foil and weights and bake 5-10 minutes more, until the crust is fully baked and quite golden. Let cool.

filling:

200g quark
250g cream
vanilla sugar to taste
fresh raspberries

Whip the cheese, cream and vanilla sugar to medium peaks and fill the cooled tart crust. Place the raspberries on top in a concentric pattern, or pell-mell, if that's more your style, and chill at least 30 minutes. Serve.

m

Turning Japanese

fig. a: Laser Suzuki!

It may have had something to do with the Laser Suzuki t-shirt that a friend of mine got me for my birthday last year, somewhat inexplicably. I've definitely been wearing it a fair bit recently, much to the puzzlement of those who know me well and who can't understand the message.* Or maybe it was all those travel tales from Japan that we've been hearing over the last several months from all those friends who've insisted, "You really must go! It's not as expensive as you think!" Then again, it may also have been the effects of that full-on Kazu fever that we developed this spring and that has yet to relent in spite of weekly (bi-weekly?) visits. All I know is that, for a while there, our AEB test kitchen was all about the Japanese.

fig. b: Harumi!

And when we felt like we need a little help with this process, our newest favorite friend, Harumi, was there to guide the way. I was none the wiser until quite recently, but Harumi Kurihara is something of a sensation in Japan. A former housewife turned "lifestyle authority," Harumi has apparently gone platinum many times over with her assortment of cookbooks, interior design books, lifestyle magazines, etc. But all of that is just hearsay.

All we really know is that Everyday Harumi: Simple Japanese Food for Family & Friends, her follow-up to her award-winning Harumi's Japanese Cooking (her first book in English), is a smash hit in our household. Everyday Harumi features some 70 homestyle Japanese recipes and a whole lot of gorgeous photography, and, as the title suggests, this is a book that focuses on recipes that are unfussy and that one might make on an everyday basis, many of which call for a minimum of ingredients. Best of all, they've all been winners so far,

fig. c: three toppings!

from the Three Toppings Rice, which is a kind of "mother & child"/"chicken & egg" number,

fig. d: green beans!

to her deliciously simple, simply delicious Green Beans with a Sesame Dressing (the same ones she's stirring in the photograph that graces the cover),

fig. e: eggplant!

to her Eggplant in Spicy Sauce--another ultra-straightforward, ultra-satisfying gem.

Michelle's been in heaven throughout this entire recent foray into all things Japanese, but for some reason she found the Eggplant in Spicy Sauce to be particularly brilliant, so that's the recipe I've decided to highlight.

Eggplant in Spicy Sauce

1 lb 3 oz eggplant (either Japanese, or baby Italian)
1/3 cup light soy sauce, such as usukuchi
1/3 cup mirin
2 1/2 tbsp superfine sugar (not to be confused with icing/confectioners' sugar)
1/4 cup rice vinegar
sunflower, canola, or vegetable oil for deep-frying
2-3 tbsp finely minced leeks or scallions
1 tsp finely minced garlic
1 tsp finely minced ginger
1-2 red chilies, seeded and finely sliced
shredded leek for garnish

Trim the eggplants and, using a vegetable peeler, make some stripes in its skin. Cut the eggplant into 1-inch thick disks and then quarter them. Place the chopped eggplant in a bowl of cold water, soak for 10-15 minutes, then drain and pat dry.

Combine the soy sauce, mirin, sugar, and rice vinegar to make the sauce. Stir well and set aside.

In a skillet, heat enough oil to cover the eggplant. When the oil reaches 340º F, add the eggplant pieces, and deep-fry until the pieces are golden all over and buttery soft in the middle. Remove the eggplant pieces from the skillet with a slotted spoon and drain on paper towels. Repeat process as necessary. You should be able to deep-fry all the eggplant in no more than 2-3 batches. The eggplant pieces cook quite rapidly--3-4 minutes, usually--so even 3 batches of deep-frying won't take long.

Transfer the eggplant pieces to a bowl, add the sauce, then the minced leek or scallion, garlic, ginger, and chili to combine.

Serve with some shredded leek on top, or some finely chopped scallions.

[recipe from Everyday Harumi by Harumi Kurihara]

One night we had a really lovely simple meal that consisted of the Eggplant in Spicy Sauce, the Green Beans with a Sesame Dressing, steamed short-grain rice, and an assortment of simple Asian pickles,

fig. f: pickled radishes!

fig. g: pickled beets!

including pickled cucumbers, pickled radishes, and pickled beets.

On special occasions, we've been combining recipes from Everyday Harumi with some of the more Japanese or Japanese-inspired recipes from David Chang's Momofuku cookbook.

fig. h: Asian cherry tomato salad!

One day we even made his wonderful Cherry Tomato Salad with Silken Tofu & Shiso,

fig. i: cherry tomatoes!

which required us to score the best cherry tomatoes we could find,

fig. j: naked cherry tomatoes!

before blanching and peeling some of them (others were left uncooked and fully clothed).



fig. k: shiso leaves!

It also required us to hit up our friendly, neighborhood sushi restaurant (one of the city's very best) for some real, honest-to-goodness Japanese shiso leaves, which was kind of like hitting up your neighbor for a cup of sugar or a stick of butter or something, only way more magical.

aj

* I mean I'm down with David Suzuki, the David Suzuki Foundation, and The Nature of Things, but suddenly I'm reminded of a story I once heard about the chair of an anthropology department at a prestigious Canadian university. The chair in question was a diminutive Japanese man who'd cultivated a convincing Ho Chi Minh mustache and beard combo. His office was adorned with a single, solitary bit of decoration--a massive poster of Karl Marx. The Ho Chi Minh look + the Karl Marx poster seemed to suggest that this gentleman was a card-carrying Marxist--most who visited him in his office drew what appeared to be the logical conclusion. In fact, appearances were deceiving. He just liked the way the poster looked.**

** Presumably, he also just liked the way that Ho Chi Minh mustache and beard combo looked.

Guys & Doll

Burger lovers,

As you may have heard, there's a new outfit in town, and this time it's one of America's premium chains. Even with the glut of burger joints we've got at present--high, low, and in between--someone has decided that Montreal is ready for a nouveau concept, a nouveau système. But whose? White Castle? Krystal? In-n-Out? Nope, Arlington, Virginia's very own 5 Guys Burgers and Fries, the chain that reputedly holds the distinction of being President Obama's favourite burger (or, at least, one of them).

Now, 5 Guys have yet to actually make it to the island of Montreal, but they have set up shop in the area, and are poised for a glorious entrance into Montreal proper. Their first regional franchise--the first in Eastern Canada--is in Vaudreuil, just minutes from both the 20 and the 40 to the west of the island. But apparently 5 Guys are planning to go toe-to-toe with the big boys and open a location in Old Montreal sometime in the very near future.

AEB received an invitation to sample the 5 Guys experience firsthand, so that's exactly what we did. We assembled a seasoned team of burger lovers--3 guys and 1 doll--and we took the mobile unit out to Vaudreuil to check out 5 Guys.

Observations:

The first thing you notice is the red check interior.

fig. a: 5 Guys spuds

The next thing you notice are the matching stacks of Idaho spuds, just waiting to be transformed into 5 Guys famous fries.

fig. b: 5 Guys goobers

After that, you notice the complimentary goobers, which are there to keep you occupied while you wait for your freshly prepared 5 Guys burger to be assembled.

5 Guys burgers fall into two categories: double-pattied hamburgers, cheeseburgers, bacon burgers, and bacon cheeseburgers, and single-pattied little hamburgers, little cheeseburgers, little bacon burgers, and little bacon cheeseburgers. It's a little confusing, I know, but that's how 5 Guys rolls--their standard burger consists of two hefty patties. Regular toppings include mayo, ketchup, mustard, relish, onions, grilled onions, lettuce, pickles, tomatoes, grilled mushrooms--so an "all-dressed" would consist of all of the above. Specialty toppings include jalapeño peppers, A-1 sauce, BBQ sauce, and hot sauce. All toppings--both regular and specialty--are free.

Fries come in two varieties: regular and Cajun.

The preferred beverage is Coca-Cola.

Place your order and you help set an entire team of food service professionals into a frenzy of activity. Burgers are fried and assembled in the open, behind a glass partition, and the impression that's given is of an organization whose execution is almost military-like, with a general keeping the grunts in precise order.

5 Guys patties are sizable, and their fries also take a little bit longer than your usual fast food fare, so there's a bit of a wait between ordering and receiving, and you actually have to wait until your number is called, but you've got the goobers to keep you company and this is still definitely fast food.

fig. c: 5 Guys bacon cheeseburger

And the burger? With two hefty patties, and a whole lot of toppings, the standard 5 Guys burger has a considerable amount of girth to it. I'd even venture to call it a whopper. It's tasty, too. The next time I'd lay off of the cheese (which didn't appear to be Kraft singles, unfortunately) and just go with a bacon burger, and I found my grilled onions a little anemic (not caramelized the way I like them), and most of us agreed that the bun should have had some more substance to it, but this was definitely not your standard chain burger (which is one of the reasons it's not priced like one). 5 Guys prides itself on its freshness, and on that count, and others, they delivered.

The fries? Neither Michelle nor I were crazy about their Cajun spices, but the fries themselves were quality. Not quite like Al's, at their finest, but a cut above your average chain fries.

Will 5 Guys make it in the Montreal market? They might catch a little flak from the Language Police, but otherwise I have a feeling they're going to do just fine.

Will I join Obama and declare 5 Guys my #1 burger? All I'm going to say is that President Obama has obviously never had an AEB burger.

5 Guys Burgers and Fries, 54 Boul. de la Cité des Jeunes, Vaudreuil-Dorion, QC, (450) 510-0710

aj

PS--We weren't the only ones who were curious. Check out a full report on 5 Guys at the new & improved Montreal Burger Report.

My dinner with Bruce, rev. ed.

fig. a: now THAT'S what I call a business card

Some offers you just can’t pass up. And this was definitely one of them.

Get this: The phone rings. You pick it up and it’s your good friend M. He says to you, “Have I got an invitation for you.” And then he proposes the following list of activities:

1. attend the premiere of Gallants, a Hong Kong chop-socky flick that’s playing at the 2010 edition of Montreal’s Fantasia festival (!)
2. bask in the glow of kung-fu great Bruce Leung, who not only stars in the film, but will be in attendance to introduce the film and address his legions of fans (!!)
3. then, finally, attend a banquet in Leung’s honour at La Maison Kam Fung (!!!), a popular Chinatown cantonese restaurant and dim sum house

Sold.

An hour and a half later, there we were, sitting in Concordia University’s Hall Theatre, listening to Bruce Leung--the one and only Bruce Leung--introduce Gallants to a rabid audience.

We couldn’t quite figure out why someone had decided to give this highly entertaining and tender-hearted martial arts film the awkward English title Gallants instead of countless other more appropriate and more alluring titles, but there’s a reason the film was a co-winner of an Audience Award at this year’s New York Asian Film Festival--the film’s plenty appealing, and Bruce Leung, as “Tiger,” and Teddy Robin, as “Master Law,” steal the show.

Now, I wouldn’t exactly call Gallants a “food film,” but much of the action revolves around a traditional Cantonese teahouse--its bamboo steamers constantly steaming away--and a preserved duck does play a central role.

Anyway, after the film, Bruce came back out and charmed the audience all over again, and if that wasn’t enough, he was also awarded a Kung Fu Star Award for his contribution to martial arts filmmaking and Asian filmmaking more generally.

By 9:30 we’d made our way to a special banquet room at La Maison Kam Fung, where there were four tables set up, with seating for about 40. M. and I chose two seats entirely arbitrarily at Table #2, and the next thing I knew Bruce Leung himself was sitting next to me (!!!!). I’m sure he could have found himself a dining mate with a knowledge of Hong Kong’s long history of martial arts filmmaking that was more encyclopedic, but Bruce and I hit it off famously, and what ensued was a two-hour lesson in grace and wisdom, peppered with some impressive feats of martial arts prowess.

The food was a nearly endless banquet of Cantonese and Cantonese-Canadian classics (salt chicken, batter-fried lobster, cashew shrimp, etc.), and, served by the hands of a kung-fu legend, it tasted even better than usual. But, more than anything, what I’ll remember is that sly smile, those impressive callouses,* and his knack for making his translator blush with an off-color joke. Talk about a master...

My most cherished souvenir? Bruce's wicked business card, which you can see pictured above.

-----

Fantasia 2010 continues through July 28, and in addition to the usual entertaining assortment of fantasy, gore, sex, and ultraviolence, this year’s line-up features a couple honest-to-goodness food films. And I’m not talking about the flesh-eating variety, either.

Tonight, July the 13th, you get your one and only opportunity to check out Baek Dong-hoon's Le Grand Chef 2: Kimchi Battle, a South Korean battle-of-the-sexes/food flick that’s sure to make you want to get your galbi and banchan on. And on July the 14th and July the 16th you’ll get a chance to check out yet another South Korean food film, Hong Ji-young’s The Naked Kitchen, a film that, as the title suggests, is more “sex” than “battle-of-the-sexes.” Here, “poetic” and “breathtakingly beautiful” shots of the elaborate rituals that make up the preparing and serving of food “serve as the backdrop to a steamy love triangle,” according to Robert Guillemette.

fig. b: look psycho? she is!

Finally, on July 24th, late in the afternoon, you get your final chance to see Kim Ki-young's truly mind-altering The Housemaid. This is one hell of a family melodrama--literally. And it features some of the wickedest plot twists in the history of film. Plus, no less an authority than Martin Scorsese had the following to say about the film: "...The Housemaid is one of the true classics of South Korean cinema, and when I finally had the opportunity to see the picture, I was startled. That this intensely, even passionately claustrophobic film is known only to the most devoted film lovers in the west is one of the great accidents of film history." What, exactly, are we talking about? Take one part Sirkian family melodrama, add one part Polanski's Repulsion, and a touch of Jean Genet's The Maids, set it in South Korea, at the very beginning of the post-Korean War economic miracle, and voilà. Yes, but is it a food film? Well, not exactly, but food does figure prominently--most of it poisoned.

Le Grand Chef: Kimchi Battle, July 13, 19:20, Hall Theatre, Concordia University (1455 de Maisonneuve Boul. W.)

The Naked Kitchen, July 14, 18:30, la Cinémathèque québécoise (335 de Maisonneuve Boul. E.), and July 16, 14:45, Salle de Sève, Concordia University (1455 de Maisonneuve Boul. W.)

The Housemaid, July 24, 17:10, J.A. De Seve Theater, Concordia University (1400 de Maisonneuve Boul. W.)

And for a complete rundown of this year’s Fantasia festival, check out their website.

aj

* Bruce is in his 60s now. He began practicing martial arts well over 50 years ago, and started out as a stuntman in martial arts films not long after that. Not surprisingly, his knuckles are hugely calloused.

Evening Danish

fig. a: Noma's pickled vegetables and smoked bone marrow*

Not just a great New York Times article on René Redzepi and the New Nordic Cuisine of Noma, but one whose ability to transport you to the Danish countryside (where Redzepi and his staff forage for Noma's exotic ingredients) brought a breath of fresh Nordic air into our sweltering AEB headquarters.

Forecast for July 7, 2010:
Montreal: sunny & 34º C / 93º F
Copenhagen: sunny & 23º C / 73º F

Beat the heat.

Sorry, no recipes, but there is an anatomical rendering of Redzepi's shrimp with sea urchin powder, a dish that comes complete with beach mustard, goosefoot leaves, sea coriander, wildflowers, and a few decorative stones.

aj

* photograph by Eric Refner for the New York Times

Syrupy Sweet

fig. a: p'tit livre

It may be a little late for sugaring-off (after all, Canada Day is already upon us), but Anne Fortin's Cuisiner avec le Sirop D'Érable du Québec is hot off the presses.

It's a handsome book--well photographed and well designed--and recipes cover everything from sides & mains, to desserts & drinks. You get all kinds of down-home classics, like Baked Beans, Maple-Glazed Ham, and Pouding Chômeur, but Fortin has wisely decided to augment her own recipes, and the ones she's collected from friends, with recipes from a number of talented local chefs and food personalities. So not only do you get a recipe for Chicken with Spices and Maple Syrup from Tapeo's Marie-Fleur St-Pierre, but you also get a recipe for Crispy Sweetbreads with Maple and Absinthe Sweet & Sour Sauce from Ethné and Philippe de Vienne of Épices de Cru/Olives et Épices/La Dépense. Ever wondered how the good folks at Havre aux Glaces make their fantastic Maple Caramel Brûlé Ice Cream? That recipe is in here too.

And if all that wasn't enough, you get two recipes from Michelle (!). One for her positively sinful maple-caramel tartinade, and the other for her invigorating Gin Tonic.

fig. b: gros gin

The idea here was to humorously riff on both the legendary tonic properties of maple water and those New-Agey maple-lemon-cayenne pepper cleanses that people insist on inflicting on themselves, while simultaneously concocting a cocktail (a reasonably strong one) that's crisp and undeniably refreshing.

Michelle created her Gin Tonic as a spring cocktail that would complement Sugaring-Off Season and help with the transition from winter to summer. It also makes for a pretty fine summer cocktail, one that would be perfect for a Canada Day apéro, for instance.

Gin Tonic

1 1/2 oz gin
1 oz lemon juice
3/4 oz medium grade Quebec maple syrup*
ice cubes
seltzer water or club soda
2 small pinches espelette pepper
slice of lemon

Mix first three ingredients in a highball glass. Add ice cubes and tonic water to taste. Stir in espelette pepper. Garnish with a slice of lemon. Serve.

Anne Fortin's Cuisiner avec le Sirop D'Érable du Québec is available in French and English (as Cooking with Québec Maple Syrup) at fine bookstores and online book retailers everywhere. It's co-published by Jean-Talon Market's Librairie Gourmande, so if you're visiting the market, stop in and give it a gander.

aj

* Any high-quality maple syrup will do, of course, but Quebec's is pretty choice.

Grits, Asian-American Style

fig. a: Anson Mills coarse white grits

A stamped white paper bag, a Pyrex measuring cup, and some white grits.

Doesn't look like much, I know. But those aren't just any grits, they're Anson Mills antebellum coarse white grits, the grits David Chang has called "the killerest grits ever."

These grits being "the killerest," you could make them straight-up, add some salt and pepper, add a little butter, and you'd be sitting pretty, but you're not going to settle for straight-up, are you? Didn't think so.

No, you're going to follow David Chang and Team Momofuku on one of their flights of fancy. People often misunderstand the Momofuku experience as being just another example of "Asian fusion." Now, there's no question that there's some fusion going on within the Momofuku empire, but there's also quite a bit of fission. And, yes, Asian elements figure prominently. But there's a side to David Chang that's almost Kenny Shopsin-like. As far as I know, he hasn't invented any countries, then set about creating their national cuisines, but there's more imagination than one generally associates with the term fusion. The narratives are richer. They're more profane. They're also a hell of a lot funnier.

As Chang describes things, Momofuku Noodle Bar's Shrimp & Grits was a pivotal dish, because aside from the Asianesque broth that Chang used to make the grits, and that you couldn't actually see, "there was no Asian foundation, relation, or appearance to the dish. No other "noodle bar" was serving shrimp and grits."

The idea, the dream, behind the dish was to take a down-home Southern soul food classic, disarticulate it, ruminate on it, and then reanimate it in Momofuku's laboratories:

I imagined what it would be like if my ancestors had ended up in Charleston, South Carolina, a few generations before I was born. They would have eaten corn, they would have eaten grits, they would have cooked with bacon. Or, if Southerners were magically transplanted to Korea, they'd eat jook instead of grits at breakfast. And you know a people who can handle the salty power of a country ham certainly could have gotten down with kimchi. I imagined a Japanese cook making grits--you know he'd boil it in dashi and season it with soy.

I guess these were all conversations I was having with myself. I didn't want to be cooking shitty fusion food. I consoled myself by thinking about how Vietnamese cuisine and Cajun cooking adapted French techniques into something that might have looked French but tasted totally different. But it was with this dish that I decided--or accepted--that if we reached past "tradition" to create the truest and best version of a dish for our own palates, then what we were doing wasn't bullshit.

Chang recommends making this dish with either his Ramen Broth or his Bacon Dashi. We went with the latter a) because it's way simpler, b) because it's way cheaper to make, and c) because it's another great example of the Momofuku Philosophy at play. As Chang puts it:

I can't overstate the significance of bacon dashi to us at Momofuku. It's not the dashi itself--though it is delicious--but the thought process that went into it. The successful transposition of bacon from Tennessee for Japanese dried and smoked fish was an important early success for us, and it continues to be a driving inspiration of how we cook.

We respect tradition and we revere many traditional flavor profiles, but we do not subscribe to the idea that there's one set of blueprints that everyone should follow.

So the following are Chang's instructions (more or less verbatim), using Momofuku's Bacon Dashi.

Still can't see what all the fuss is about? Well, here goes:

fig. b: before

Momofuku Shrimp & Grits

2 cups water
2 cups white or yellow quick-cooking grits, preferably from Anson Mills (SC)
2 cups Bacon Dashi (recipe follows)
2 tablespoons light soy sauce, such as usukuchi
kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
8 tbsp unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1/2 pound smoky bacon, such as Benton's (TN) or North Country Smokehouse (NH), cut crosswise into 1- to 1 1/2-inch-long lardons
1 pound medium shrimp (16 to 20 count), shelled
2 tbsp grapeseed or other neutral oil, such as canola
4 freshly poached eggs
1/2 cup chopped scallions, greens and whites included

Combine the water and grits and soak the grits overnight (or for at least 8 hours) in the pot you'll cook them in.

Drain the grits, add the broth to the grits, and bring to a simmer over medium-high heat, whisking all the while. Continue to whisk for 5 minutes after the liquid simmers, then turn the heat down to low. You'll reach "first starch"--the point at which the fine corn particles thicken the liquid just enough to suspend the larger particles--after 5 minutes, and it's crucial to whisk constantly until you reach that point, and to turn the heat down immediately afterwards.

Add the soy sauce, a large pinch of salt, and some freshly ground black pepper. Keep the heat low and whisk regularly if not constantly; the grits should be thickening, undulating, and letting occasional gasps of steam bubble up and out. Soaked grits will be cooked after about 10 minutes over low heat. They're ready when they're no longer grainy, and they've become thick and unctuous.

Add the butter, stirring until it has melted and been absorbed into the grits. Taste them and add additional salt and pepper as needed. Set aside, covered to keep warm, while you get the rest of the dish in order (or serve them at once if you can't take it anymore and you just want to eat them solo).

Put the shrimp in a mixing bowl, pour the oil over them, and add a couple pinches of salt. Toss them in the oil and salt until they're coated. Set aside while you take care of the bacon.

Cook the bacon in a 12-inch cast-iron skillet over medium heat until the lardons have shrunk to about half their original size and are crispy, about 5 to 6 minutes. Remove the bacon with a slotted spoon and drain them on paper towels. Drain the bacon fat from the pan and reserve for another later use. Return the pan to the stove.

Make sure you've got your eggs poached and ready to go. They're ready? Good. Proceed.

Wipe the pan cleanish with a paper towel and turn the heat up to high. Cook the shrimp in two batches. As soon as the shrimp hit the pan, press down on them, using a bacon press, the back of a big spatula, a flattish pot lid, or a smaller pan--whatever works (we've found that a flattish pot lid works best for us). Sear the shrimp for about 1 minute on the first side. Watch the shrimp closely. As the gray-pink flesh of the raw shrimp gradually turns white in the side pressed against hot pan, and when that white line creeps about 40% of the way up the shrimp, flip them and press down on the second side. Sear that side only long enough to brown them a bit, about 30-45 seconds. Ideally, they should be just slightly shy of cooked when you pull them from the pan--they'll continue to cook after they come out of the pan. Use your judgment. Cook them a little longer if you prefer, but, remember, nobody likes overcooked shrimp. Nobody. Not even you.

Make up plates for 4. Shallow soup plates are ideal. Start with a big helping of grits, nestle a poached egg in the middle, and arrange 1/4 of the bacon, 1/4 of the shrimp, and 1/4 of the scallions in separate piles around the edge. Serve at once. Savor.

Serves 4.

Momofuku Bacon Dashi

2 x 3-by-6-inch pieces of kombu
8 cups water
1/2 pound smoky bacon, such as Benton's (TN) or North Country Smokehouse (NH)

Rinse the kombu under running water, then combine it with the water in a medium saucepan. Bring the water to a simmer over medium heat, then turn off the stove. Let steep for 10 minutes

Remove the kombu from the pot and add the bacon. Bring to a boil, then turn the heat down so that the water simmers gently, and simmer for 30 minutes.

Strain the bacon from the dashi, and chill the broth until the fat separates and hardens into a solid cap on top of it. Remove and discard the fat and use the dashi or store it. Bacon dashi will keep, covered, for a few days in the refrigerator. You can also freeze it for later use.*

Makes 2 quarts. You'll only need 2 cups of this for the shrimp & grits, so you'll have plenty left over for other uses.

[both recipes from Momofuku by David Chang and Peter Meehan]

The resultant dish is one that's remarkably subtle, but utterly irrepressible. When I finished making the dish the first time, I remember saying to Michelle that I was surprised that the recipe didn't call for some kind of Asian-inflected sauce that you'd drizzle overtop, but then I went and took my first bite and suddenly I understood.

The taste sensation comes from below. It's deep in the grits, it's released by the butter that finishes the grits, and it's transformed into something that's positively rapturous when you take your fork and release the egg yolk and stir it up with the grits, the shrimp, the egg, the bacon, and the scallions.

fig. c: after

Are you starting to get it?

aj

P.S. A note on sources: as I've mentioned before, quality shrimp can be hard to find in Montreal, and this dish requires some reasonably fresh, juicy, tasty shrimp, so don't bother making it if you're not satisfied with the product at your local fishmonger, or, better yet, shop around. Sometimes quality can vary greatly from one poissonerie to the next. The best shrimp we've found in recent months have been at Poissonerie Shamrock (7015 Casgrain Ave., 272-5612) and at Norref (4900 Molson St., 593-9999).

You can use other brands of grits, of course, but Anson Mills' grits are pretty killer. Be sure to use quick-cooking grits, though, or you'll find yourself stirring furiously for an awfully long time.

* Among other things, Chang claims it's great with clams. I haven't had the chance to test this out yet, but I believe him.

Top Ten #35

1. AEB Superdawgs

fig. a: Mr. Smith & co., 1939

2. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, dir. Capra

3. Eating your way across NYC

4. Grilled Lobster with Pickled Peppers, Preserved Meyer Lemon, and Toasted Almonds

fig. b: Joan, 1967

5. Joan Didion, Slouching Towards Bethlehem

6. shrimp & grits

7. Radwan Moumneh/Ariel Engle + Hrsta + friends, La Sala Rossa, June 6, 2010

8. Al's French Frys, Burlington, VT

fig. c: FC, 1968

fig. d: FC, 1969

9. Fairport Convention, S/T & Unhalfbricking

10. Kazuality by Kazu

Sweet Tweets

All those interested in following Michelle's dolce vita, look no further: she's now on Twitter.

How else are you going to keep abreast of limited-time-only desserts like the mango medley* you see pictured above? Live and in-person, perhaps:

Laloux, 250 Avenue des Pins East (Plateau Mont-Royal), 287-9127

aj

* featuring Kesar mango sorbet, coconut milk panna cotta, Assam tea crumble, candied cashews, candied fresh coconut, lime, and cilantro leaves.