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Fine Dining in Philadelphia

Philadelphia Museum of Art, Water Works and Schuykill River

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Usually, when I’m at home in southeastern Pennsylvania, I prefer either to cook or grab a simple meal at a nearby brewery or coffee shop.  Driving 35 minutes into Philadelphia never sounds terribly appealing when I’m tired and hungry.  However, over the past two weeks I broke from my usual routine and had some exceptional dinners in Philadelphia as a result.  The restaurants? Amada and FARMiCiA in Old City, the Water Works in Fairmount Park and Vetri in Center City.

Cheese plate and patatas bravas at AmadaAuthentic, earthy Spanish tapas with flavor and flair was what I wanted, and got, at Jose Garces’ Amada.  www.amadarestaurant.com   Lychee mojitos, cranberry-studded sangria and a cheese plate of Manchego paired with lavender honey, Cana de Cabra with a side of fig marmalade and Queso de Cabra accompanied by balsamic strawberries started the evening.  Following this were small platters of bread slathered with tomato and garlic, patatas bravas or spicy potatoes topped with saffron aioli, salt cod croquettes, shrimp sauteed with chunks of garlic, and charred green onions as well as bowls of Spanish olives and chickpeas and spinach in tomato sauce.  For dessert – the only miss of the evening for me – bananas torrijas or crispy Spanish bread topped with slices of carmelized bananas and surrounded by a mild-flavored banana anglaise and equally subtle maple syrup ice cream.  A little too subdued to end such a flavorful feast. 

At FARMiCiA, www.farmiciarestaurant.com, the emphasis was on local, organic, and humanely grown foods.  Not terribly surprising as the chef, Kevin Klause, came from an archetype of socially conscious cuisine, the White Dog Cafe, but certainly a major selling point.  From a menu friendly to vegans and carnivores alike I ordered pan-seared wild salmon served over sauteed Swiss chard and lentils.  Roasted beets and a creamy yet light herb sauce accompanied the trio.  My dining companion selected a vegetarian entree – two herb roasted portobello mushroom steaks, sauteed greens and baked parmesan polenta.  Dessert was a warm walnut brownie, courtesy of the adjacent Metropolitan Bakery.  Drinks?  Pomegranate martinis or “pom-tinis.”  Simple and delicious dining.

Chicken entree at the Water WorksLocated on the bank of the Schuykill River beneath the Philadelphia Museum of Art, the Water Works Restaurant, www.thewaterworksrestaurant.com, featured spectacular waterfront views, a spacious, crystal chandelier-lit dining room, and Mediterranean-inspired food.  Although the surroundings were elegant and unforgettable, the cuisine seemed a tad tired, particularly for the prices charged.  While my friends enjoyed their appetizers of lobster bisque, oysters, and onion soup and entrees of pan-seared black bass, pan-seared chicken, and duck breast, I felt that the herb-crusted salmon with fingerling potatoes and dessert of chocolate ouzo beignets had been done often, and better, elsewhere.  Not bad but also not befitting the cost or amazing atmosphere. 

What was amazing was Vetri.  www.vetriristorante.com  Nationally renowned for its classic and contemporary Italian cuisine, Mark Vetri’s intimate, 35-seat restaurant lived up to the rave reviews on this evening.  The food and service were exemplary, surpassing anything that I ever experienced in New York at Mario Batali’s celebrated Babbo.  My husband and I began the night with glasses of prosecco and blood orange bellinis.  For appetizers we shared a sweet onion crepe and cauliflower flan with shaved parmesan and an egg yolk center that cascaded onto the gold-accented plate.  Our entrees were pillowy spinach gnocchi dressed with brown butter and almond tortellini with a delicate white truffle sauce.  We left room for desserts of chestnut custard napoleon and chocolate polenta cake.   Extraordinary!         

          

TasteBook (reviewed): A Tasty Treat for Friends and Family

TasteBook cookbook

It all started with a request for a cookbook.  Not any old cookbook but one filled with recipes that had been created, modified or copied by me.  My deadline was Christmas Day 2007.  My publisher?  TasteBook. 

With financial backing from Conde Nast and a partnership with the online recipe site Epicurious.com, TasteBook provides home cooks with a way to create their own illustrated, hardcover books.  For $34.95 they can select 100 recipes from existing TasteBooks or from the 25,000 listed on Epicurious or they can type in recipes from their own collections.  As my dishes originate with friends, from traditionally published cookbooks or me, I opted to write 99 and acquired only one – asparagus with tarragon sherry vinaigrette – from Epicurious.  The latter I had used for years, ever since tearing it out of the April 2002 issue of Gourmet magazine. 

Had I copied recipes from Epicurious or other TasteBooks, I undoubtedly would have completed this project in a matter of days.  However, as I chose to type every title, ingredient list, set of steps, serving size and note, I labored for several weeks on “Kitchen Kat’s Cookery Collection.”  Labor may be too strong a verb.  The work was easy enough.  Just click on the “Add a recipe” icon and type the information in the appropriate box, i.e. ingredients in the “ingredients” box, cooking steps in the “preparation instructions” box, etc.  Decide in which of the ten, tabbed chapters the dish should appear — vegetables, appetizers, desserts, and so on –, tack on any notes or anecdotes, save the recipe and move onto the next one.  Easy!

Once I had finished writing and organizing my collection, I selected a cover. With more than 40 color photos from which to choose I waffled between shots of a slate blue bowl of cherries and pie plate overflowing with fresh cranberries.  I eventually picked the cherries.  Cranberries seemed too seasonal for this venture.   

Before placing my order, I took a virtual tour of my book.  By clicking on the edge of each page, I could flip through and see how the recipes would appear in print.  I even got to preview the different pictures that began every chapter.  Scones opened the section on brunch and breads.  A bowl of olives appeared on “appetizers and drinks.”  I hated to admit it but none of the cookbooks lining my kitchen shelves looked as snazzy, or personalized, as this.  One hundred of my best, and favorite, recipes at my gift recipient’s fingertips. 

In less than two weeks the beautiful “Kitchen Kat’s Cookery Collection” arrived on my doorstep.  Like most holiday gifts, it required some assembly before being wrapped and placed beneath the Christmas tree.  Thankfully, all that I had to do was insert the recipes into the ring binder and snap it shut.  Voila!  The cookbook deadline had been met and with weeks to spare.   

Should I ever wish to add more recipes or print out other copies of this book, I can go online, log into my account and either start typing or ordering.  TasteBook is online at www.tastebook.com.   
 

Last of the Lousy Lunches

Today marked at an all time low on the lunch front.   Having boiled a vegetarian hot dog, I then remembered that I had no bread or buns.  Lacking such entree alternatives as homemade soup, mixed greens, fresh fruit or cereal, I had no choice but to eat this hot dog, with ketchup, on top of a cracker.  (Yes, yes.  I could have eaten just the hot dog but at the time this sounded even less appealing.)

The crunchiness of the rosemary-laced cracker coupled with the squishiness of the ketchup-coated hot dog is not a pairing that I want to experience again.  Not a full-fledged “Yuck!” but certainly far, far from “Yum!” 

What not to eat -- hot dog on a cracker

Working from home, I often find myself thinking about food. Yet, when lunch rolls around and I can eat guilt-free, food seems to be the very last thing that I have in the pantry.  On days when I don’t have time to run out to a diner, much less to the supermarket, and the delivery options leave me unenthused, I need alternatives to my usual handful of almonds, instant oatmeal (which I had this morning for breakfast), multiple mugs of coffee or, today’s disaster, hot dog on a cracker. 

Since the sodium content of canned soups disturbs me on so many levels, I won’t pop open a can of Campbell’s and heat it on the stove.  Likewise for pouring hot water over ramen or “Oodles of Noodles” and tucking into a bowl of salty noodle soup.  Frozen dinners and pizzas are not an option.  Nor are bags of candy, potato chips and dip or any other junk food.  For lunch I want something healthful yet fast and simple to make. 

With this in mind I have come up with a few recipes that, when I run out of bread, milk, veggies or fruits, will provide me with a quick, decent meal.   Staples of the kitchen, the following ingredients are invariably on hand. 

SESAME SOBA NOODLES
Serves 1

2 tablespoons sesame seeds, toasted
1 individual package of soba noodles (found in Asian section of larger grocery stores)
1 teaspoon sesame oil
2 teaspoon rice vinegar
2 teaspoons honey
4 teaspoons lite soy sauce
 
Boil the soba noodles for about 6 minutes (or according to instructions on package), until they are tender. Drain and plunge into a bowl of ice water to stop from further cooking.
        
In the bowl in which soba noodles will be served, mix vinegar, soy sauce, honey and oil.
        
Drain the noodles. Place the noodles and sesame seeds in the bowl with the sauce and toss to combine.

HUEVOS RANCHEROS
Serves 1

1 egg, fried over easy or hard
1 whole wheat tortilla
1/2 tomato, seeded and chopped OR 1/2 cup of canned tomatoes, drained and chopped
1/4 cup grated cheddar cheese
2 tablespoons salsa
chopped onion, optional
sour cream, optional

Fry egg to desired specification — over easy, over hard or even sunny-side up — and set aside.
        
Warm the tortilla in a frying pan then place on a plate.
        
Sprinkle the cheese on the center of the tortilla. Place the egg on top of the cheese.
        
Spoon the tomato, followed by salsa, on top of the egg.  Spoon onion and/or sour cream on top of salsa, if desired.
        
Fold tortilla and serve.
*Note:  If you don’t have tortillas or even tomatoes in the house, just top a fried egg with cheese, salsa and the optional onion and sour cream and eat!

GRILLED SALMON STEAK
Serves 1

2 to 3 tablespoons olive oil
1 (4 oz.) salmon steak, skin removed
BBQ sauce, optional
1 can (14 oz) chopped tomatoes, drained, optional
2 tablespoons minced garlic, optional
juice of half a lemon, optional
1 teaspoon dried thyme, optional
freshly ground black pepper, optional

Using 1 to 2 tablespoons of olive oil, grease the surface of the grill pan or, if grilling outside, grill.  Pre-heat grill on medium-high heat.

If salmon steak is frozen, defrost in the microwave or, if time permits, in the refrigerator.  Otherwise, coat both sides of the salmon steak with the remaining olive oil and place on the grill.  Depending on the thickness of the steak, cook on each side for 5 to 10 minutes or until flesh flakes easily when probed with a fork.

If topping with the tomato mixture, stir together the canned, drained tomatoes, garlic, lemon juice, thyme and ground pepper then spread over the top of the salmon steak.  If using BBQ sauce, paint the top of the salmon with the sauce.  Remove steak from heat and serve immediately.

HUMMUS AND PITA
Serves 1

1 (8 ounce) container of hummus
1 package of wheat pitas or pita chips

Open packages of hummus and pita.  Dip corner of pita into hummus and consume.  Repeat steps 2 and 3 until hunger has subsided.
             

Warm Nights of Mediterranean Delights

On this bleak and frigid January afternoon I sit in my office, staring out the window at the hard, frost-covered ground.  At times winter in the Northeast can seem endless.  One digit days and sub-zero nights.  Plodding around in an ungainly puffy coat, thick mittens, fuzzy hat and thermal underwear, I feel like an ill-dressed Weeble.  Unfortunately, unlike the toy of my youth, when I slip on a patch of sinister black ice, I wobble as well as fall down.  

Weeble in winter

While many of winter’s sufferers dream of white beaches and rum drinks, I yearn for the warm, healthful cuisine of the Mediterranean.  For me nothing beats winter’s chill better than a steaming bowl of bouillabaisse or platter of grilled sardines.  While I can’t drop everything and jet off to Marsaille or Sardinia tonight, I can invite some friends over for an evening of Mediterreanean delights.  It’s a wonderful way to bring a little sunshine back into all of our lives.

And what would Mediterranean night be without henna tattoos, shots of ouzo or, for the teetotalers, Turkish coffee?  Not a party that I would be throwing.   That’s the beauty of celebrating this region — I can serve up unique customs alongside delectable foods.

Moroccan tea glassesOn Moroccan nights I hold my silver teapot high above the dinner table and pour hot, sweet mint tea into delicately filigreed glasses.  Unlike the tea wallahs of Morocco, who can do this without spilling a drop, I usually splash some on the tablecloth, if not on a guest.  Still, the spectacle is worth the stained linens and startled friends.

On Italian-themed evenings I might brew some espresso and make “affogato,” bowls of vanilla ice cream drowning in hot coffee, or just serve the drink in white demitasse cups.  Other times I may cheat and throw together a hodge podge of Mediterranean specialities.  A fragrant Moroccan tagine and vegetable-studded Tunisian couscous salad are preceded by spinach-laden Greek spanikopita and cheesy Spanish bunuelos.  Cap off the feast with cups of French cafe au lait paired with Italian poached pears and I have a menu of global proportions.

Mediterranean coast of Turkey

To set the tone, I rely not only upon food but also on music, movies and culturally significant activities.  For a French-inspired meal I may flip on the songs of Edith Piaf, Josephine Baker and Serge Gainsborough or the films of Francois Truffaut, Louis Malle and Jean-Luc Godard.  Entertainment in place, I set out wedges of Morbier cheese, crusty baguettes, Picholine olives and bottles of Cotes du Rhone.  Decorate the dinner table with white linens and a blue vase brimming with sunflowers and I am transported to a sidewalk cafe in sunny Nice. 

In milder weather my backyard becomes a Venetian paradise where guests take “gondola” rides on the creek that runs behind our farmhouse.  With my husband Sean and friend Kyle acting as gondoliers, daring party-goers glide along the canals of Collegeville in our two fiberglass canoes.  Granted, it takes some imagination to envision an Italian idyll amidst the oaks but with a little effort and enough Chianti it will do.

Gondola in Venice

Tonight, however, with the creek encrusted with ice and my minutes to shop and decorate few, I may have to settle for an evening of simple food.  A plate of insalata caprese or a Haloumi, tomato and basil sandwich — just a little something to remind me of the sun-drenched shores of the Mediterranean and the warmth they bring.

COUSCOUS SALAD
Serves 6 to 10

Ingredients:
8 ounces Israeli couscous
12 ounce can of chopped tomatoes, drained
2 red bell peppers, finely chopped
2 scallions, finely chopped
1 cucumber, peeled, seeded and chopped into small chunks
3 tablespoons of Moroccan (black) olives, finely chopped
handful of chickpeas
¼ cup of freshly squeezed lemon juice
¼ cup of olive oil
1 teaspoon ground cumin
½ teaspoon curry powder
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper

Cook the couscous per package’s instructions then tumble into a large bowl.
       
Add the tomatoes, peppers, scallions, cucumber, olives and chickpeas to the couscous. Toss to combine.
       
Whisk together the lemon juice, olive oil, cumin, curry and cayenne pepper then pour over the couscous. Stir until dressing is evenly distributed. Refrigerate and allow the salad to absorb the dressing for at least 1 hour. Serve cold or at room temperature.

INSALATA CAPRESE
Serves 4 to 6

2 pounds vine-ripened tomatoes (about 4 large), sliced ¼ inch thick
1 pound fresh mozzarella, sliced ¼ inch thick
¼ cup packed fresh basil leaves, washed well and dried
4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
fine sea salt to taste
freshly white black pepper to taste

On a large platter arrange tomato, mozzarella slices and basil leaves in an overlapping, alternating pattern. Drizzle with olive oil. Season with salt and pepper.

HALOUMI, TOMATO AND BASIL SANDWICHES
Serves 2 to 4
My Greek version of insalata caprese on bread

6 to 8 slices of Haloumi cheese, pan-fried
2 tomatoes, washed and sliced
generous amount of fresh basil, washed
loaf of organic bread
splash of balsamic vinegar, optional

Assemble the sandwiches with 2 to 3 slices of Haloumi, 2 to 3 tomato slices, a handful of fresh basil and a splash of balsamic vinegar per sandwich.
      

Good Food for Good Causes: Cook's Choice, a Community Cookbook (reviewed)

A sampling of community cookbooks

I admit it – I own a lot of cookbooks.  Some of my favorites come not from renowned chefs or big publishing houses but from community fundraising committees.  Soft- covered, spiral bound, and with minimal art work, community cookbooks showcase the talent and ingenuity of home cooks while raising money for local churches, hospitals, parks and clubs.       

Since the recipes are donated by a specific community, i.e. the members of the Junior Guild or Holy Trinity Orthodox Church, the offerings are invariably vast and varied.  Some, such as the three-ingredient beer bread, are simple and tasty.  Others, such as the 10-egg “English style cheese strata,” fall into the ‘creative cooking’ category.  A few, such as the apple sauce-cream cheese-lemon jello-Miracle Whip salad, are plain, old gastronomic nightmares.     

Close to half of these books I inherited from my mother.  Although she didn’t particularly enjoy cooking, she did believe in supporting my hometown.  “No Fault Cooking” from the Liberty Mutual Club, “Northminster U.P. Church Cook Book,” “Favorite Recipes of Pennsylvania” courtesy of the Women’s Missionary Society, and “Cook’s Choice” from the Junior Guild of Jameson Memorial Hospital all found their way into her kitchen.

Cook's ChoiceMy mother may not have used the books often but, when she did, she filled the margins with ratings – a red “X” for unsuccessful recipes, a “good+” for, obviously, those she found worth making again.  My favorite, the hardbound “Cook’s Choice,” is loaded with these notations.  My first grade teacher Elma Alford’s chicken casserole warranted a “good+.”  Yet, I can’t remember ever eating this well-reviewed meal. 

While Carolyn Farone’s meat loaf only received a “good” rating, I consumed this combination of ground beef, chopped onions and peppers, grated cheese, egg and cracker crumbs on countless occasions.  As for the damning red “X” next to “party chicken,” I must have blocked out all memories of it.  Chicken breasts wrapped in bacon and topped with dried beef, cream of mushroom soup, and sour cream didn’t do much for my mother or me, it seems.     

Along with relishing the personal aspects of “Cook’s Choice,” I also love many of the recipes.  The 26-page chapter on appetizers and beverages is packed with great party foods.  From the number of outstanding cocktails listed here, I have no doubt that the ladies of the 1978 Junior Guild knew how to have a good time. Thanks to them, I do, too.  Nancy William’s wassail, Bobbie Forsey’s Swedish glogg, and Mary Clarke’s wholesome, non-alcoholic witches’ brew have kicked off many festive nights. 

What I like best, though, is the book’s simplicity.   Most recipes contain only a few steps.  Dice, mix, pour and bake.  Coat, season and fry.  Boil, simmer and serve.  That covers all the techniques that I’ll need to create these dishes. 

Likewise, the ingredient lists are kept simple.  What I don’t have on hand, I can easily acquire.  No traipsing through four supermarkets or transporting goods across the George Washington Bridge to make shrimp Arnaud or Croatian fish stew.  Makes sense.  If the recipe writers hadn’t found the ingredients at New Castle’s local markets, they wouldn’t have made such meals as chicken paprikash or baked cheese fondue.        

While my mother’s books from the ‘70s and ‘80s are filled with nostalgia and retro appeal, the ones that I have purchased smack of today’s eating trends.  Gone are the coconut and Cool Whip-laced Jell-O salads, chow meins, angel fluff pies, and upside-down cakes.  In their place are steps for making curried artichoke salads, vegetarian entrees, tarts, and tortes.  However different this may be from the days of “surprise meatballs,” these books still contain good foods prepared and presented for good causes. 

Wassail from Cook’s Choice (Junior Guild, 1978) and Nancy Williams

Yields 2 1/2 quarts

“Keep warm with this at the football games — really keeps you toasty warm from the inside out!”

1 cup sugar
2 cups water
1 teaspoon whole cloves
1 1/2 cinnamon sticks
1 teaspoon ginger
2 cups orange juice
1/2 cup lemon juice
1 quart cider
1 cup white rum

Combine the sugar and water and boil 10 minutes.  Add the cloves, cinnamon sticks and ginger.  Let stand at least 1 hour.  Strain.  Add the orange juice, lemon juice and cider and bring to a boil.  Remove from heat and add 1 cup white rum.  Easy.  Can do ahead

              

Foods of Youth

Like millions of Americans, I traveled to my hometown this past Thanksgiving to visit friends and indulge in the foods of my youth.  Growing up in the former steel town of New Castle, Penn., I was raised on the cuisines of the immigrants who had staffed the now-defunct, suburban Pittsburgh mills.  Italian wedding soup, cheese-stuffed ravioli and spumoni ice cream. Polish pierogies, ham and cabbage and nut-filled kolache.  A tad naive as a child, I assumed that everyone in the nation consumed these foods.

My assumptions about cuisine extended to some unusual, local offerings.  With a name like “city chicken,” I guessed that these bread crumb-coated squares of meat were served in every major urban center.  After all, this meal featured city-dwelling poultry.  A junior high school trip to New York dispelled that notion.  Not once did city chicken appear on a restaurant menu, a sure sign that I had been duped on the origins of this entree.  An article in the Pittsburgh Post Gazette ended my belief that the dish contained any chicken.  City chicken is, in fact, made from cubed pork and/or veal.  Talk about false advertising!

Then there were the MP Coney Island hot dogs.  Who would name his restaurant Coney Island if he hadn’t opened the first one on the boardwalk in Brooklyn?  (Yes, my initial trip to New York resulted in many shattered dreams and dispelled myths.  And then I moved there . . ..)  I later learned that dozens of unrelated Coney Islands exist across the country.  Like the others, the one down the street from my parents’ house, with its slender, ketchup-drenched hot dogs and greasy chili fries, did not have a flagship restaurant in NY. Founded in 1923 by Greek immigrants John Mitsos and George Papazekos — hence “MP” – this Coney Island was a New Castle original.

Despite these early disappointments I continue to crave the culinary concoctions of my childhood.   The salty-sweet, garlic-infused sauce on Keneve’s pizza.  Butter cream-iced birthday cakes from New Model Bakery, custard-based peanut butter sundaes from Forbush’s and soft, glazed donuts from May’s.  So many decadent treats.   

At Thanksgiving my roommate from college, Ann, stopped at Rachel’s Roadhouse in Mercer, Penn. for one of her favorites, a deep-fried pretzel, and at Quaker Steak and Lube in nearby Sharon for chicken wings.  Another friend, Marilee, packed a cooler in her car and made pilgrimages to such New Castle institutions as Pizza Joe’s and, of course, Coney Island.  At Pizza Joe’s she stocked up on pepperoni rolls and at Coney’s, chili.  Meanwhile, I sprung for an extra-large take-out spaghetti from Ladies of the Dukes.  After paying $11 and providing my own dish for transporting, I walked away with a pound of mushy spaghetti and a splash of watery red sauce.  Unfortunately, not all foods, or restaurants, have retained their luster. 

After Thanksgiving I realized that what I miss most about New Castle are the home cooked meals.  Holidays just aren’t the same without my late mother’s lime Jell-O salad and homemade chicken noodle soup or my friend Nickie’s mom’s powdered sugar cookies.  While not the most exotic, they are the highly cherished foods of my youth.

Patricia Hunt’s Chicken Noodle Soup
Serves 6 to 10

3 skinless chicken breasts
¼ cup chopped onion
¼ cup chopped celery
¼ cup chopped carrots
1 teaspoon salt, add more if needed
2 cans of cream of chicken soup
egg noodles, amount to be determined by cook

Boil chicken in a large sauce pan or stock pot for about 40 minutes.
        
Remove chicken, reserving the broth.
        
Cut the chicken into bite-sized pieces then set aside.
        
Add the onion, celery, carrot and salt to the chicken broth. At this point add more water if necessary then bring to a boil. Cook for about 30 minutes or until the vegetables have softened.
        
Add the 2 undiluted cans of Campbell’s cream of chicken soup. Stir and simmer for 2 minutes. Add the chicken pieces to the pot.
        
Meanwhile, cook the noodles for 3 minutes. Drain then add to the soup. The noodles will finish cooking in the soup.
        
Add more water if needed to make enough broth. Remove from heat and serve.
 
Patricia Hunt’s Holiday Jello Salad
Serves Many

1 large box of lime jello
1 cup sugar
2 cups hot water
1 cup orange juice
dash of salt
large container of Cool Whip
large can of crushed pineapple, drained
shredded coconut, optional garnish
chopped walnuts, optional garnish

Dump the contents of the jello box along with the sugar, water, orange juice and dash of salt into a large glass baking dish. Stir together to dissolve the jello and sugar. Place the dish in the refrigerator to chill.
        
When the jello has partially set, remove from the refrigerator and add the Cool Whip and pineapple, stirring to combine. Return to the refrigerator and allow to jell completely.
        
Once the jello has solidified, garnish with either shredded coconut or chopped walnuts then cut into squares and serve.

Vasiliki Kolovos’s Kourambiedes
Makes 4 dozen
      
½ pound unsalted butter, room temperature, plus more for greasing baking sheets
¼ cup sugar
1 egg yolk
½ teaspoon vanilla
2½ tablespoons ouzo (anise-flavored liqueur)
About 2 cups flour, sifted, divided
½ teaspoon baking powder
Confectioners’ sugar

Grease two baking sheets and set aside.
        
Using an electric mixer, beat ½ pound butter until light and fluffy. Add sugar and egg yolk and continue beating until well blended. Add vanilla and ouzo and beat until combined.
        
Mix 1 cup flour with baking powder and add to butter mixture. Add about another 1 cup flour, a little at a time. (Depending on temperature conditions, you may need a little more or less flour to make a dough that is supple but not sticky.)
        
Place dough on a flat, flour-dusted work surface and roll out ½-inch thick. To make crescent shaped cookies, use either a crescent-shaped cookie cutter or the lip of a water glass. If using a glass, place roughly half of lip onto dough and press downward. Repeat to create the crescent shape. Alternatively, use the glass to make circles or with your hands roll dough into small balls.
        
Put cookies 1 inch apart on greased baking sheets and bake in preheated 350-degree oven for 15 to 20 minutes, or until tops are light brown. Cool for 5 minutes, then remove from sheets, place on cooling rack and generously sift confectioners’ sugar over.
       
      
 

Swedish Simplicity

In flawless English the waiter announced that Cafe Nova’s daily lunch special consisted of spinach-and-feta quiche, mixed greens, a multigrain roll and glass of lingonberry juice.  Were it not for that tart, red fruit juice, unique to Scandinavian cuisine, I could have been dining in any Western country.  I was, though, seated at an outdoor cafe in the Swedish capital of Stockholm.   

Although home to such industries as Volvo, Saab, and IKEA and such entertainment icons as Ingrid Bergman, Ingmar Bergman and ABBA, Sweden offers intrepid travelers far more than cars, home furnishings and ‘dancing queens.’  This beautiful, ecologically-minded nation possesses a delightful cuisine reflective of its simple, natural approach to living.  

While in Sweden, my husband Sean and I had the luxury of staying and dining with a Stockholm resident.  A friend from Columbia University’s J-school, Christina Anderson works as a press secretary for the Swedish International Development Cooperation Agency (SIDA).   During our stay she also served as a personal chef, translator and tour guide.  After years of struggling with different languages and dialects, of fumbling through menus, and overlooking so many cultural aspects, I was delighted to have an insider’s perspective and assistance.  It goes without saying that I also was overjoyed to catch up with an old friend.

Traditional sandwiches 

Christina quickly clued us in on the exorbitant cost of food.  On our first night in Stockholm the three of us went out for Italian near her neighborhood of Maria Prastgardsgatan.  Three plates of cannelloni al funghi and a bottle of the cheapest house red wine set us back $140.  And people complain about New York being expensive.        

In spite of high prices we indulged an array of uncomplicated Swedish delicacies.  At the outdoor organic cafe in Djurgarden City Park Christina and I slurped down bowls of velvety mangold soup.  Similar to kale, the pureed mangold made a nutritious and savory repast.  At a quaint cafe across from the Nobel Prize Museum we nibbled on open-faced shrimp sandwiches and coconut-covered chocolate balls.  On the Viking island of Gotland we dined upon savory crepe-like pancakes filled with wild mushrooms and sweet dessert pancakes topped with preserves and homemade whipped cream.

 About to enjoy some sweet Swedish pancakes

Breakfasts we usually ate at Christina’s.  Strongly brewed coffee lightened by warmed milk, slices of fresh, brown Danish bread and wedges of dark Norwegian cheese started our mornings.  When in the ancient village of Visby on the island of Gotland, the bread and cheese were accompanied by hard boiled eggs and little blue tubes of Kaviar paste.

We could not leave Sweden without imbibing in a bit of aquavit.  Similar to vodka, this Scandinavian classic is distilled from potatoes or grain then infused with spices and herbs such as caraway, fennel and coriander.   It can be swigged down as a shot, nursed like a fine whisky or chased by a beer. 

Likewise, we didn’t want to depart without engaging in the ultimate tourist activity — drinking at the Ice Bar.  Run by Absolut and housed in the Nordic Sea Hotel in downtown Stockholm, the Ice Bar lived up to its name.  The entire structure — walls, counter, tables, seats, glasses and shelves — consisted of ice.  Kept at a brisk 23 degrees Fahrenheit, the bar featured an array of vodka-based cocktails mixed by parka-clad bartenders.  My favorite, Absolut Wilderness, consisted of raspberry vodka, lingonberry juice and apple sour and came in a small but chunky block of ice.

Ice Bar in Stockholm 

On our last night in Sweden Christina presented us with a feast of traditional foods.  Following family recipes, she sauteed chanterelles with parsley, salt and “a click of butter,” mixed fresh lingonberries with sugar, tossed together a salad, toasted bread and made pancakes accompanied by blueberries, Turkish yogurt and confectioner’s sugar.  What a wholesome and delicious going away gift!

As a parting present, Christina slipped a jar of organic cloudberry preserves and Vilmas rosemary knackebrod, or “crispy bread,” into my backpack.  In Sweden the amber-colored cloudberries frequently top waffles, ice cream or pancakes.  The hand-baked, rye-laced flatbread often acts as a healthful substitute for biscuits and crackers.  While cloudberry preserves can be procured online as well as at Fairway in New York, Vilmas knackebrod can only be obtained in Sweden and in select shops in Belgium and the Netherlands.  For information on Vilmas, check out http://cartwright.se/

Glogg or Yuletide Mulled Wine
Courtesy of Triberg, Ranung and Hagman and the “Very Swedish” cookbook.
Serves 4 to 6

Ingredients:
10 cl vodka
5 sticks of cinnamon
20 cloves
fresh ginger, peeled and cut into slices
1 teaspoon cardamom
½ Seville orange peel
1 bottle red wine
2 tablespoons granulated sugar

In a mortar crush the cinnamon, cloves, gingers, cardamom and orange peel. Transfer to a bowl, jar or small pitcher and pour the vodka over it. Cover and let stand for 12 to 24 hours.

Strain through a sieve lined with cheese cloth or a coffee filter.

Pour the wine and two sugars into a large saucepan. Heat (do not boil) until sugars have melted. Add the vodka mixture, stir and serve.

Further Confessions of a CIA Junkie

Ever wonder how to add some excitement to a bowl of bland carrots?  Oddly enough, I have.  In fact, that very quandary landed me in Chef David Kamen’s flavor dynamics class at the Culinary Institute of America last weekend.  Through lectures, tastings, and hands-on cooking sessions I learned the “physiology of taste and development of flavor.”  I also found out how frying, grilling, roasting, sauteing and poaching can alter a food’s flavor and change my humdrum carrots into a sexy side dish. 

This was neither my first food enthusiast’s class nor my first encounter with Chef Kamen.  Last spring I had taken Chef Kamen’s day-long “Food Affinities” session.   There the students delved into what foods and flavors complimented and paired well with one another.   We also got clued into a fantastic resource, Andrew Dornenburg and Karen Page’s “Culinary Artistry.”  My secret weapon when conjuring up recipes, it devotes hundreds of pages to what foods work well together.  

Making take-home boxes at the CIA After a 2-hour classroom lecture, complete with tastings and discussions, our 15-member class had broken up into teams of three.  Each group was assigned a food basket filled with ingredients from which it constructed several entrees.  My team chose clams.  Creating the recipes as we went, we whipped together grilled clams with lemon-butter, clam fritters with a dipping sauce and a salad of chopped tomatoes, cucumbers, scallions, mint, parsley and lemon juice.  

Around 1:30 we assembled our dishes for the class to eat and then streamed through the buffet line and into the basement dining room.   After an eclectic lunch we returned to the kitchen to critique both the presentation and taste of each offering.   A great exercise in thinking on your feet as well as accepting constructive criticism. 

campus of Culinary Institute of America

In last Saturday’s flavor dynamics we all worked with the same foods — chicken, carrots and mashed potatoes.  What differed was how each team prepared these foods.  My group roasted three whole chickens that had been seasoned with a mixture of Bell’s poultry seasoning, Old Bay and kosher salt.   We also fried carrots that had been dipped in a tempura batter and infused mashed potatoes with a merlot reduction.  The latter resulted in an eye-popping purple mound of potatoes.   Shocking to the eye but a pleasure for the palate. 

Other groups poached chicken breasts and topped them with a tarragon cream sauce, stir-fried or roasted carrots, and pureed or made mashed potatoes from baked, rather than boiled, potatoes.   Sauces accompanied most dishes, such as the sauteed chicken Provencal and fried chicken with salsa cru.  Herb butter enlivened the grilled chicken. 

As for the carrot conundrum, my favorite method of preparation turned out to be boiling.  Topped with chopped chives and a bit of butter, boiled carrots were tender and flavorful.  Carrots roasted with olive oil, salt and pepper ranked a close second for me while those stir-fried with minced garlic, ginger, scallions and hot bean paste tied with our carrot tempura and another team’s steamed carrots for third.          

What did I get out of this class as well as the others taken at the Culinary Institute?  Along with the chance to cook in a professional kitchen, with its powerful convection ovens, stainless steel workstations and eight-burner, gas cooktops, I got to work alongside classically-trained, professional chefs, to learn first-hand what I can’t glean from a book and to stretch my skills as a home cook.  That, a free apron, chef’s toque and the answer to how to turn my boring root veggies into a delicious dish.  No wonder I keep going back for more!

The glamorous apron and toque 

Roasted Carrots – from Chef David Kamen’s Flavor Dynamics course
Serves 6

Ingredients:
1 lb. carrots, diced
olive oil, as needed
salt, to taste
pepper, to taste

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Toss the carrots lightly with the olive oil, salt and pepper.

Place the carrots on a sheet pan and roast in the oven until tender.

Serve hot.             

       

      

Mushroom Maven

Unwittingly I have become a maven of mushrooms.   In less than 18 months I have raised my own oyster and shiitake mushrooms, hosted a “feast of fungus” dinner party, penned four articles and signed up for a foraging club.  All this from the person who grew up eating button mushrooms from a jar.  Hardly the origins of a connoisseur.

Although my mavenhood has been a recent development, I first learned of “better” cultivated mushrooms from my father.  While home on Christmas break in the early ’90s, I joined him and my uncle for a pre-holiday dinner at Boardman, Ohio’s Springfield Grille.  Always an experimental eater, my father ordered an appetizer of Portobello mushrooms.  My initial reaction to his daring was “Yuck!  I’m not touching that weird stuff.”

A persuasive man, he eventually convinced me to take a small bite.  I still recall my astonishment over how rich and delicious edible fungus could be. Sliced then sauteed in olive oil, salt and pepper, they possessed an earthy, meaty yet wholesome taste.    

Years passed.  My food choices changed.  Almost overnight mushrooms switched their role as a pre-dinner snack to a fundamental part of my menus.   Wild mushrooms stood in for beef in an otherwise traditional stroganoff.  Farmed Portobellos replaced T-bones when grilling steaks.  Sweet, woodsy, wild chanterelles usurped chicken in garlic and olive oil sautes.   Shiitakes formed the sauce for tender filets of sole.   Versatile, flavorful and easy to procur and prepare, mushrooms became the star of the dinner table.              

Perhaps it really is no wonder that I have become a fungus aficianado.

Mushroom Sauté
Serves 8

Ingredients:
5 cloves of garlic, minced
2 tablespoons olive oil
14 ounces cremini mushrooms, cleaned, stalks removed and cut in half
12 ounces shitake mushrooms, cleaned, stalks removed and cut in half
12 ounces portobello mushrooms, cleaned and cut into small pieces
6 tablespoons butter
2 teaspoons sea salt
¾ teaspoon freshly ground white pepper
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
¾ cup tomato puree
¼ cup water
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese

Heat the olive oil in a large sauté pan then add the garlic.  Cook for two to three minutes, until softened but not browned. 

Add the butter to the pan.  After the butter melts, add the mushrooms and toss the ingredients together so that they are well mixed.  Cook, stirring periodically, until the mushrooms are soft and slightly browned, approximately 15-20 minutes.

Add the salt, black and cayenne peppers, tomato puree and water.  Stir well.  Continue to heat on medium, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes or until sauce has thickened. 

Transfer to a serving bowl.  Sprinkle the top with Parmesan cheese and serve.

Mushroom Stroganoff
Serves 8

Ingredients:
2 large white onions, skinned and cut into quarters
5 cloves of garlic, skins removed
¼ cup olive oil
14 ounces cremini mushrooms
12 ounces shitake mushrooms
12 ounces portobello mushrooms
2 ounces dried porcini
6 tablespoons butter
1 ½ teaspoons curry powder
1 ½ tablespoons paprika
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 teaspoons sea salt
¾ teaspoon freshly ground white pepper
5 tablespoons dry sherry
16 ounces light sour cream

Peel and quarter the onion and garlic then place in a food processor.  Process the two until they have attained a smooth, soupy consistency. 

Clean and remove the stalks from the mushrooms.  Slice and halve the cremini and button mushrooms.  Slice and quarter the shitake.  Slice and cut the portobello into small pieces.     

Heat ¼ cup oil in a large sauté pan then spoon in the onion-garlic mixture.  Cook over medium heat until softened but not browned. 

Add the butter to the pan.  After the butter melts, add the mushrooms and toss the ingredients together so that they are well mixed.  Place a lid on the pan and cook, stirring periodically, until the mushrooms are soft and slightly browned, approximately 15-20 minutes.

Remove the lid and add the curry, paprika, nutmeg, salt, pepper, sherry and sour cream.  Stir well.  Heat on medium-low for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until stroganoff is hot and well combined.  Serve over linguine, egg noodles, or rice.         
 

Hanging out in Morocco’s "Wind City," Essaouira

Until recently, whenever someone mentioned Morocco, three images would spring to mind:  Tall, lanky camels plodding across the scorching Sahara; dusty, crowded souks teeming with loud, aggressive peddlers; palm tree-lined oases springing up in an otherwise barren land.  Beige would be the predominant color of the landscape.  Sizzling would be the climate year-round. 

 Marrakech, Morocco

Shaped by films and books such as “Casablanca” and The Sheltering Sky, my notions of the North African country were completely blown by a trip to the Moroccan port of Essaouira. 
 
Situated on the Atlantic Coast, roughly five hours south of Casablanca by car, Essaouira resembled a Mediterranean resort town.  Along with its whitewashed, blue shuttered buildings and expansive, windswept beach the city possessed a relaxed, uncomplicated atmosphere. 

Ramparts and seagulls of Essaouira

On Place Prince Moulay el Hassan locals and tourists alike lounged at outdoor cafes, sipped hot mint tea and tossed scraps to the town’s stray dogs and cats.  At the beach football was perpetually played and onlookers were encouraged to join the games.  Those who preferred to observe sat beneath beach umbrellas and watched windsurfers glide along the coastline.  Host of national and international windsurfing contests, Essaouira promotes itself as “Wind City, Afrika.”
        
Unlike the rest of Morocco, life in this 18th century town moved at a slower pace.  I spent many hours wandering through the souks, pausing to sniff jars of aromatic spices or admire brightly painted tea glasses.  Not once did I feel pushed into purchasing an unwanted item.  Bartering did take place in the markets but in an amiable way.          

By contrast, in Marrakech’s covered Rue Souk Smarine I was shoved along by throngs of shoppers bent on finding the best deal on kilims and terra cotta tagines.  In the rare instance that I could stop in front of a stall, I was hectored by vendors who barked out bargains and insisted that I not only view but also buy their wares. 

Hard sell doesn’t work with me so I left Marrakech empty-handed.  However, by the end of my stay in Essaouira my rental car’s trunk was filled with thuya woodcrafts, pottery and spices, all acquired at the laidback marketplace.

Near the port in Essaouira

Also filled in Essaouira was my stomach.  Once one of the largest sardine ports in the country, the town still catered to a fish-loving crowd.  Grilled fish cafes lined the road just outside the port area and served freshly caught sardines and other fish.  Diners ate at their delectable meals at wooden benches and tables facing the port and sea.

When I grew tired of fish, I sampled other cuisines.  La Licorne, located along the woodworkers’ souk on Rue de la Skala, offered high end, traditional Moroccan and French cuisines.  When I developed a hankering for pasta, I had at least three different Italian restaurants from which to choose.       

Lest I forget that I was in Africa and not the Mediterranean, Essaouira afforded me the chance to ride a camel on the dunes of La Maison du Chameau.  The impassive animal took me past herds of goats climbing scrubby, fruit-bearing argan trees and across the increasingly hot and desolate countryside.  Camel rides could also be arranged on the beach or through the concierge at one of the town’s many hotels.

Although Essaouira had many Western-style hotels, including the upscale Sofitel chain, I ended up staying in riads, traditional Moroccan houses built around gardens or courtyards.  Facing the Atlantic and town’s ramparts, the Dar Al Bahar provided spectacular ocean views.  The French-run Dar Adul overlooked the Skala de la Ville, the sea bastion on the northern cliffs, and afforded visitors a quiet night’s sleep.  Both riads served complimentary breakfasts of flat breads, honeycombed pancakes known as beghrirs, preserves, orange juice, coffee and tea.         

Where to Stay: 
Dar Adul  www.daradul.com  63 Rue Touahen  061 24 52 41 
Dar Al Bahar www.daralbahar.com  1 Rue Touahen 044 47 68 21
Sofitel Thalassa Mogador  Boulevard Mohammed V  044 46 90 00 
 
Where to Eat:
La Licorne  26 Rue Scala – Traditional French Moroccan cuisine
Dar Baba 2 Rue de Marrakech – Inexpensive Italian
Chalet de la Plage  Boulevard Mohammed V – Seafood with a sea view