arthur ave.

What better excuse to hit up Arthur Ave. than for a quick lunch before a trip to the Bronx Zoo? Besides, we had two Swedish "tourists" with us and it seemed like an appropriate NYC experience--and one that this so-called "New Yorker" hadn't yet experienced. Our game plan? To hit up whichever spot along Arthur Ave. that we could find a parking spot in front of. And lo and behold, we found ourselves at Full Moon Pizzeria.

A slice of cheese for me (judge all you want, but, I think this is the best way to detect a pizzeria's worth) and a few other slices of veggie-laden pies and we were ready to gorge.

The pizza was good enough--a typical New York slice--but certainly nothing to rush back to the Bronx for. And we can probably blame that on my lack of energy to seek out the "best" of the neighborhood for the sake of convenience. So why even bother posting about this lackluster, run-of-the-mill lunch? Because I really just wanted to post pictures of my Swedish cousin Renée's little nugget, Nellie, indulging in her first New York slice.

I nearly die every time I look at that angelic, rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed face. She is absolute preciousness personified.

And she's a really, really good eater. A petite gourmand in the making.

weekend dinner party

How's this for an unintentionally prejudiced conundrum: I don't particularly care for Indian curry but I love, love, love Thai curry. There it is. Out in the open. I can't explain it. But I can make an educated guess that it has something to do with the addition of cumin (A spice that I unfortunately cannot stand behind--literally). This inopportune opposition has led to a tragically limited number of Indian food experiences. My excuse is always that I'm not in the mood. But really, I think it's got a whole lot more to do with a reverse Pavlovian-type response I have to cumin-scented curry along with the lack of a clear, rational mind.

So, in an effort to take the fragrant bull by the horns, this weekend's dinner party menu showcases an Indian-themed spread. The combination of my sweet cousin, Aly (seen below), who's living in India for the semester and my Indian-food-loving Swedish cousin, Renée, who's coming to visit this weekend, provided me with all the inspiration I needed. And when I started clicking through Aly's unbelievable photos documenting her adventures and simultaneously sifting through the cilantro, mint, cucumber, yogurt, and garam-masala flecked recipes, I started to realize just how irrational my alleged fear is and how excited I am to start exploring by means of shoving face with these delectable dishes.

chicken masala

jasmine rice

cucumber raita

curried carrot salad with currants and mint

pomegranate spritzers with lime

RECIPES:

Chicken Masala

Cucumber Raita

Curried Carrot Salad

Pomegranate Spritzers: Equal parts POM pomegranate juice and seltzer and top with a squeeze of lime. For an alcoholic version, a splash of vodka can be added.

betcha didn't expect to see this

Believe it or not, I've been perusing recipes for chicken enchiladas as of late. Can't exactly tell you why, seeing as I've never really even had much experience with chicken enchiladas, but I've just been curiously drawn to them. A typically cheesy, creamy dish that's perked up with chile and cilantro and made hearty by shredded rotisserie chicken. More importantly, I wanted to try and find a recipe that would allow me to lighten it up significantly while also making it a little bit more "gourmet" and a little bit less kitschy. And while a cup of cream and a pound of cheese might be appropriate (and/or borderline cruel) for a dinner party, it has no place in my weekly diet. And so here's what I'm proposing: replace the cup of cream with a combination of 1/2 cup reduced fat sour cream and 1/2 cup fat free greek yogurt. The mozzarella cheese can be replaced with part-skim mozzarella (or a reduced fat monterey jack or cheddar). While I admittedly haven't yet experimented with this on my own, I have a feeling the substitutions will work seamlessly and none of the luxurious texture of this dish will be sacrificed in the least.

Cooking for one? Try halving or quartering the recipe and layering it up in a smaller individual-sized baking dish. Just cut the tortillas down to size to fit the vessel.

And alongside? You can guarantee there will be a simple green salad with some sliced avocado and tomato with a lime dressing to liven things up. The added bonus to this recipe is that it's a totally economical way to feed a crowd. Not to mention incredibly filling with just enough of a kick for both body and soul. Which is just what this doctor ordered.

Layered Chicken Enchiladas with Tomatillo-Cilantro Sauce

Recipe adapted from Bon Appetit, September 2005, amended by yours truly

Makes 8 servings

2 pounds large tomatillos, husked, rinsed, halved

1 1/4 cups low-sodium chicken broth

10 garlic cloves, peeled

2 cups sliced green onions

2 cups (packed) very coarsely chopped fresh cilantro

1 large serrano chile, sliced (with seeds)

12 5- to 6-inch flour tortillas

1 purchased rotisserie chicken, meat torn into strips (about 4 cups)

1 pound part-skim mozzarella cheese, cut into strips

1/2 cup reduced-fat sour cream

1/2 cup fat free greek yogurt

Preheat oven to 450F. Mix tomatillos, chicken broth, and garlic cloves in a large saucepan. Cover and bring mixture to a boil. Reduce heat; simmer gently until tomatillos are soft, about 10 minutes. Transfer hot mixture to processor. Add sliced green onions, chopped cilantro, and sliced chile; blend mixture to coarse puree. Season sauce to taste with salt and pepper.

Overlap 6 tortillas in 13x9x2-inch oval or rectangular baking dish. Top tortillas with half of the chicken strips and half mozzarella strips. Pour 2 cups tomatillo sauce evenly over. Top with remaining tortillas, chicken strips, and mozzarella. Stir in reduced-fat sour cream and fat free greek yogurt into 1 1/2 cups of tomatillo sauce and pour over top. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Bake until bubbling, about 25 minutes. Cool enchiladas 10 minutes. Serve with remaining tomatillo sauce.

Photo above courtesy of Bon Appetit

comfort food

It's not just the abrupt and startling (and unwelcomed) blast of chilliness that's got me longing for comfort food. No, instead, it's a whole slew of other non-weather-related things that have managed to do a number on my appetite. Flavors are temporarily coming across somewhat muted and so my natural next step is to turn to soothing textures. And warmth. And there's nothing more soul-satisfying and comforting than a piping hot bowl full of familiarity that's enriched with some cream and spooned over buttered and parsley-flecked egg noodles.

Beef Stroganoff may not be instinctual for you, but there's something about the old school'ness of it that sends me right home. In fact, I promptly called my mom this morning to get this recipe from one of the cookbooks that happily fed us throughout my childhood, appropriately called Dinner In Minutes. Which means you can cozy up to this meal at the drop of a hat--and we all know that when we're hit with pangs of sadness or homesickness or whatever else it may be, there's a sense of urgency. And the faster, the better.

Beef Strognaoff

Recipe Courtesy of Dinner In Minutes (and amended by Mom)

1 1/4 pounds flank, rib eye, skirt or lean sirloin steak

1 1/2 tablespoons canola oil

1 pound mushrooms, sliced (about 4 cups)

1 medium onion, chopped (about 2 cups)

1 1/2 cups low fat chicken stock

3 tablespoons tomato paste

2 tablespoons dijon mustard or more to taste

1/2 teaspoon worcestershire sauce or more to taste

salt and freshly ground pepper

1/2 cup sour cream

1/2 cup cream

1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley for garnish

Remove fat from meat and slice into thin strips about 1/4 inch thick. If using flank steak, slice across the grain. Place 1/2 tablespoon oil in a nonstick skillet and brown a few slices at a time on high heat, adding more oil as needed. Do not overcook; the meat should be juicy and slightly rare. As soon as the meat is browned, remove from the pan. Continue to brown all meat slices in this manner. Add onions and sauté until transparent, about 10 minutes. If the pan seems too dry, add about 1/4 cup water to prevent burning.

Add mushrooms and cook for a few minutes. Pour in chicken stock. Add tomato paste, mustard, worcestershire sauce and salt and pepper to taste. Mix thoroughly, scraping the bottom of the pan to incorporate all of the browned bits into the sauce. Cook for 5 to 6 minutes to reduce the sauce and slightly thicken it. Taste. You may need to add sugar and a little more worcestershire sauce or mustard. There should be a delicate blend of flavors. Return meat to sauce and add cream and sour cream. Cook for 2 to 3 minutes without boiling to rewarm meat. Taste for seasoning again. Stir in parsley right before serving.

To serve: Place cooked, buttered egg noodles on each plate and serve stroganoff over noodles. Sprinkle with a little bit more parsley.

halloween brunch

absolutely perfect eggs benedict

pizza with sliced potatoes, onion, rosemary, goats milk brie, speck and egg

pizza with white onion, goat cheese, smoked salmon, frisée salad

(halloween) dinner party

As I mentioned last year, Halloween just really isn't my scene. I'm all for getting dressed up but, just not in an over-the-top costume, per say. Instead, I'd rather consider it the perfect opportunity to give my new LBD a spin which I haven't been able to find the appropriate christening venue for. But a faux-Halloween dinner party would easily allow me to wear the silk, backless little number, no questions asked. Just don't ask me what I'm dressed up as.

chicken liver pâté with grilled bread

Vernaccia di San Gimignano

pumpkin and goat cheese lasagna

fall salad with maple-dijon vinaigrette

Oregon Pinot Gris

caramel popcorn squares

Bubbles

I couldn't help but go the pumpkin-route here. It was just way too easy. But hopefully you'll find this application of the big orange gourd to be a nice departure from the desserts-only category. Additionally, butternut squash puree could just as easily be substituted for the pumpkin if that tickles your fancy. The starter, I'm sure, will garner an "ewww" factor from some of your guests at first (although, really, shame on them) but just one bite of Marco Canora's (of Terroir) Chicken-Liver Crostini will send shivers down their spines. Scary good. (Although feel free to pick up your favorite store-bought pâté for an even easier but equally satisfying fix. My lips are sealed.)

And remember: There's nothing scarier than a dinner party without wine. So give an Oregon Pinot Gris and Vernaccia di San Gimignano (a Tuscan white with gorgeous apple notes) a try. I don't doubt they'll freak you out.

RECIPES

Chicken-Liver Crostini

Pumpkin and Goat Cheese Lasagna

Fall Salad

Caramel Popcorn Squares

Photo above courtesy of John Harvey Photography

eataly

Finally made my way over to Eataly this past Sunday and in a word? Overwhelming! From the line down the block just to get into the market to the people elbowing you left and right to get a better look at the individually packaged zucchini blossoms and the price per pound on the fresh ricotta, this is not the place for the faint of crowds [raises hand]. To be fair, Sunday is obviously not the ideal day to venture to Eataly; nor is Saturday. But since mid-week jaunts don't really jive with my schedule, a weekend trip was inevitable.

Sadly, I forgot my camera and so I was heavily reliant on the camera on the phone of my epicurean field trip companion. You can guarantee, there would have been photo after photo of all of the beautiful and equally delectable goodies (imported and otherwise) that Eataly's whopping 50,000 square feet has to offer.

After chowing down on paninis (sopressata - provolone and a mortadella - mustard - robbiola) and guzzling Italian sparkling water, our stomachs and heads were better armed to battle the aggressive crowds. Speck, Italian butter, and fresh pappardelle were tossed into the basket as we haphazardly navigated our way through the food mecca, lusting over the marbled steaks and white truffles and curiously sniffing through the cheeses.

Will I be racing back? Probably not with much urgency. In its current state, it's a frenzied tourist trap and really not fit for a practical, efficient shopping experience. But a few months down the road, when the lines have (hopefully) diminished and the tourists have exhausated their rounds, I look forward to cozying up to one of the bar counters and ordering a platter of salumi and cheese while raising my glass to the end of the molto chaos.

Until then...

Eataly
200 5th Ave.

fancy food

My initial reaction to "What should we do tonight?" was going to be something along the lines of "Uhh, I don't know. Maybe a burger? A beer? Something casual?" But I didn't even have the opportunity to mutter those silly words of apprehensive indecisiveness because the question was answered for me, with "I have duck breasts to cook."

A mere five minutes prior, I had been frantically tearing recipe after recipe out of the October issue of Food & Wine while re-organizing my recipe binder (yes, that's right) and had come across one for Duck Breasts with Crispy Potatoes and Frisée Salad. To be honest, I've never cooked duck. And not only have I never cooked it, but I rarely even eat it--and never think to order it when I'm at a restaurant. But that is not to say that I do not enjoy it. And when someone's offering to cook you duck breasts, you'd have to be an unsophisticated idiot to decline.

Not one for appearing unsophisticated or idiotic, I ran over to the produce market to grab my contributions to the meal. Yukon gold potatoes, some thyme, a head of frisée, and a round of goat's milk brie for snacking on during the 45 minute confit process the potatoes were about to go through.

That's right, we were confit'ing the potatoes. As soon as I carefully transfered the pan of potato slices with a garlic clove and a sprig of thyme covered, entirely, with oil, and glanced to my left to see duck breasts being scored and generously seasoned with salt and pepper, I couldn't help but kind of laugh to myself. "This is a pretty fancy little meal, no?" To which he couldn't help but laugh too and exclaimed "We're fancy!"

I'll tell you what's fancy, though. The 2008 Man O' War Syrah. I couldn't shut myself up about how unbelievably delicious it was. Deep, dark, and rich without being overwhelmingly fruity or sweet. It was far and away one of the best (if not the best) bottle of red I've ever come across.

Survey says? The recipe needs some tweaking--no two ways about it. The confit'ed potatoes, for as much fat and time they took, retained almost no flavor. And for a root vegetable to be fried in duck fat after confit'ing in garlic and thyme to have little to no flavor is almost frightening. Terrifying, really. The recipe also called for adding white truffle oil to the vinaigrette for the frisée. And while I'm down for white truffle oil to be drizzle on anything, the white wine vinegar kind of killed it. I suggested doing a dijon mustard-pomegranate vinaigrette next time. And saving the truffle oil for the potatoes, hot and crispy out of the oven.

And to continue the air of fanciness, the evening concluded with a friendly little push-up and leg lift competition which will not be discussed here any further. But I will tell you this: I'm reminded of it every time I laugh. Because laughing...hurts.

Recipe: Duck Breasts with Crispy Potatoes and Frisée Salad

farmers market spottings

A Saturday morning stroll through the Union Square Farmers Market.

inspiration: wine tasting rooms

Absolutely lusting over these Northern California winery tasting room photographs via Remodelista. Aside from the fact that they make me want to drop everything and bust my behind to the nearest tarmac to hop a plane headed West, they're also incredibly inspirational just from a design aspect. The aesthetic in each and every one of these tasting rooms makes me deleriously happy and I can't exactly explain why. They just make sense. And they feel familiar. And subtly romantic. And they're in the wine country. And here I go again, dropping all my stuff and frantically mapquest'ing my route to JFK.

Olabisi Wines Tasting Room

Medlock Ames Winery

Outdoor Terrace at Cade Winery

Blackbird Vineyards

blind sparkling wine tasting

It's hard for me to articulate much of anything this morning because last night, my world got rocked. As in a warm, fuzzy, gluttonous, dream-like sequence of events which started with the promise of a blind sparkling wine tasting and then in walks a guy holding a bag which carries the makings for lobster rolls (with lobster from Cape Cod, I might add), followed by another two gentlemen with another four bottles of brown-bagged bubbly, and then I had to hold on to the counter for stability. Between the food and drink that was lying in my immediate future and the four-inch-high suede platform clogs I was sporting, my knees? They were a-knockin'.

And then the potato rolls hit the buttered cast iron griddle and I was hanging half my body out the window for air. This was a joke, right?

Nope. No joke. This was my real life Thursday night. There was also some triple-cream, pungently aromatic Brie, an aged goat's milk Gouda, sliced salami, hot and fresh-from-the-oven flatbread, and a green olive tapenade for spreading. And then the lobster salad, with the perfect meat to celery to mayo ratio was spooned onto the buttery, toasted rolls and I was just dumbfounded. Mouth agape. Turns out, there's nothing a male could do to be any more attractive than when they're handing you a homemade lobster roll on a toasted buttery potato bun. Nope. No, there is not. That is it. Take note, dudes.

I mean, get out of here with that claw meat!

As far as the bubbly goes, I jotted down tasting notes but they'll do no one any good. As usual, there was an interesting variety of bottles which challenged and excited our palates. But to be honest, I had checked out after my lobster roll. The names of the bottles will have to remain "TBD" until I've been pinched or woken up and the dream-sequence has ended.

Ain't bubbly grand?

weekend dinner party

I've been holding on tight to this Ad Hoc fried chicken for about four months too long. Here's the thing: While fried chicken might be synonymous with Summer picnics, you'd have to be cray-zay to fill up a big old cast iron cauldron with scalding hot, bubbling oil, while carefully frying batch after sweaty batch while the barometer outside (and soon to be inside) is creeping past 90F. No way, no how, not eva. But now that it's comfortably cool--and arguably chilly--a platter of perfectly crispy and flavorful fried chicken with a side of creamy mashed potatoes and cool, crunchy, cucumber salad has quickly become synonymous with the absolute best of the best that Fall has to offer.

'Cause I said so.

ad hoc fried chicken

cucumber salad with sour cream and dill dressing

yukon gold mashed potatoes with dijon-lingonberry gravy

Egly-Ouriet Champagne

"homemade" chocolate pudding

And before you reach for that 6-pack of your favorite brew, Jon Troutman of Cork'd suggests a different kind of fizz: "Fried food absolutely screams for bubbles. Because this is the ultimate in fried chicken, you should be drinking (what I consider to be) the ultimate in bubbles. Egly-Ouriet is a small producer in the Ambonnay region of Champagne, this wine combines unparalleled richness and finesse...all for under $50. Save your Dom P for the* club."

*I so tried to get him to change that last "the" to "da" but alas, can't win 'em all.

Ad Hoc Fried Chicken (keep in mind this requires an overnight brine so plan ahead)
Yukon Gold Mashed Potatoes (feel free to wing these as this recipe calls for LOTS o' cream)
Cucumber Salad with Sour Cream and Dill Dressing

Dijon-Lingonberry Gravy

2 tbsp. butter
2 tbsp. all-purpose flour
1 cup chicken stock
1/2 cup cream
2 tbsp. dijon or whole grain mustard
2 tbsp. lingonberry preserves

In a small skillet over medium heat, melt the butter. Whisk in the flour, cook for 1 minute, then slowly whisk in the stock. Allow it to thicken for a minute or so then add in the cream, mustard, lingonberry preserves, salt and pepper, and whisk. Reduce heat to warm and serve.

"Homemade" Chocolate Pudding: My-T-Fine (box mix) all the way. It most certainly lives up to its name. And then some. Don't scoff. I dare you to not eat it all before your guests arrive. DARE you!

Image above courtesy of Jun-Blog

taking my own advice (you should too)

Even though I didn't sit down to dinner until a staggering 10:15pm last night, my chirashi bowl was well worth the wait. And although I don't suggest starting a two hour marinade process at 8pm, sometimes that's just the way it goes. So what better reward for a grueling day than a piping hot bowl of homemade food? A heaping spoonful of ginger-infused sticky rice was topped with some shredded carrot, creamy avocado, sliced Japanese-style broiled chicken, and drizzled with a sweet soy-sesame sauce flecked with chili flakes. The contrasting textures and temperatures and flavors were so deliciously thoughtful and satisfying, I can't think of a more appropriate and well-received dish on a chilly, tiresome, yet massively rewarding Monday night.

chirashi sushi

Much to my dismay, on Saturday night, my roasted butternut squash was not developing the color I'd hoped for. Instead of caramelizing and crisping along the edges, it was practically steaming, in a 400F oven set to ROAST. To reiterate, it wasn't roasting, it was steaming. Frustrated, I glanced to my right and noticed Mark Bittman's How To Cook Everything, a Christmas gift I received last year but hadn't yet given it the full attention it deserved. I flipped through the index, looking for roasted butternut squash and found: nothin'. How To Cook Everything couldn't tell me how to properly cook roasted butternut squash. Slightly discouraged and muttering, "Seriously, Bitty?" under my breath, I flipped through a couple more pages and ended up on a chart of sorts explaining Sushi Bowls, also known as Chirashi Sushi. Bittman explains:

"Chirashi means 'scattered' and that's exactly what this is: various ingredients scattered over sushi rice."

I don't know about any of you, but I've been stuck in a lunch and dinner rut. I've exhausted all my go to options to the point where I'm developing a less than palatable reaction to them. But a sushi bowl (for a girl who craves sushi on the regular) was just the answer to my epicurean question of: what ELSE is for dinner?!

Here are a few of the combinations I found the most interesting. Each bowl of sticky rice gets a protein (meat, fish, or tofu), a vegetable, and a suggested sauce and/or topping:

Broiled or grilled chicken, Japanese style* with shredded vegetables (i.e. grated raw cucumber or carrots) topped with a soy dipping sauce and/or soy-based marinade

Pan-roasted tuna steaks with sliced avocado and mayo flavored with wasabi and topped with thinly sliced scallion

Grilled or broiled pork chops with Japanese pickles (found in Japanese market) or spicy Asian-style pickles, topped with toasted sesame seeds

Pan-cooked salmon with roasted scallions, Asian style**, and topped with ponzu sauce

Oven-fried sesame chicken with quick-cooked bok choy and pickled ginger

Broiled (or grilled) Chicken, Japanese Style*

1/4 cup soy sauce

3 tbsp. sake or dry white wine

2 tbsp. mirin (or 1 tbsp. honey mixed with 1 tbsp. water)

3 scallions, roughly chopped

1 tbsp. minced garlic

1 tbsp. minced fresh ginger

1 whole chicken (3 to 4 lbs.) trimmed of excess fat and cut into 8 pieces, or any combination of parts

neutral oil, like grapeseed or corn, for brushing

lemon wedges for garnish

Mix everything together except the oil and lemon wedges in a large baking dish or heavy plastic bag. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours and as long as overnight, turning occasionally. When you're ready to cook, heat the broiler to moderate heat and put the rack about 6 inches from the heat source.

Start with the skin side down and broil, making sure the bird does not burn, until it's nearly done, about 15 minutes, then turn and cook until done, 5 to 10 minutes longer.

Serve hot, warm, or at room temperature with the lemon wedges.

Roasted scallions, Asian Style**

Heat oven to 400F. Drizzle 2 bunches of scallions with 1 tbsp. peanut oil, 1 tbsp. dark sesame oil, salt and pepper. Spread scallions out on baking sheet and roast, turning once or twice until lightly browned and tender, about 20 minutes. To finish, drizzle with 2 tbsp. rice vinegar, toss, and serve.

radicchio with pappardelle

It's flippin' cold. And irritatingly windy. But it's FRIDAY! So I'm willing to turn the other wind-burned cheek on this whole weather thang.

Friday also allows for a certain level of indulgence. Although apparently this past Wednesday did too, which entailed a post wine tasting trip to Bar Boulud where we sipped on a bottle of private label Champagne and then a Northern Rhone Syrah and recklessly nibbled on pomme frites dipped in homemade mayonnaise and cheese and charcuterie plates that could make you blush. Let's just say I woke up with more of a moral hangover than anything else. I'm going to need to hire someone else to deal with my credit card bill this month. Because I'm not looking at it. (Mom, please don't call me to talk about this. Love you. XO.)

In an effort to save a little cash, how about dining in tonight? I just came across this recipe from Saveur for radicchio with pappardelle and it just sounded so perfectly appropriate. I imagine topping each serving with a poached egg could take things for a turn to ethereal.

Radicchio with Pappardelle

Recipe Courtesy of Steven Wagner for Saveur

2 heads cioggia or treviso radicchio

1 medium yellow onion, peeled and chopped

1/4 lb. pancetta or slab bacon, julienned

3 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil

salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 lb. pappardelle

freshly grated parmigiano-reggiano

1. Core, then julienne, chioggia or treviso radicchio.

2. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add pancetta and brown, stirring occasionally, for 5-10 minutes. Reduce heat to medium-low and add onions. Season with salt and pepper and cook, stirring occasionally, until onions are golden, about 30 minutes.

3. Meanwhile, cook pappardelle in a large pot of salted water until al dente, about 8 minutes. Drain pasta, reserving 1/2 cup cooking water. Add radicchio to onions and pancetta and cook, stirring until radicchio is wilted, about 3 minutes. Add pasta and reserved cooking water, mix well, season with salt and pepper, and serve topped with freshly grated parmigiano-reggiano.

Image above courtesy of Saveur