What Would Shaun Sheep Say?

I love that line from The Sopranos. Corrado "Junior" Soprano says to Tony, “We’re dropping like flies.”

Tony tells him, “It’s all that charcoal broiled meat you people ate.”

Uncle Junior replies, “Nobody told us ‘til the 80’s.”





No doubt too much of a good thing is dangerous to your health. That goes for alcohol or bacon or even ice cream. I consider myself relatively health-conscious. I exercise nearly every day, watch my weight, and take vitamins, but everyone has their limits. My weakness…flavor. I want to eat food that is flavorful and delicious and somehow in my head this does not jibe with vegetarianism. I hate to climb on any diet bandwagon. I scoff at Atkins Diet, the South Beach, and even Jenny Craig. So when R dropped his little bombshell that he was becoming a vegetarian, I was--shall we say--resistant. "How long will this last? 24 hours?" I quipped, given that R doesn’t particularly like vegetables. And how was I supposed to cook anything remotely flavorful given that I was working with a limited list of ingredients and excluding meat or fish of any kind (nothing with a face or a mother, he said). So, with great trepidation, I reluctantly climbed on the bandwagon. It's been three weeks now, and I must say, it’s not as bad as I expected. In fact, I’m trying recipes that I’d still make even after he sees the error of his ways and repents. It still feels like a punishment to me. But when the urge for meat overpowers me I make my pasta with meat sauce or chili with turkey meat. Moderation is still my watchword, as well as daily exercise.

Over the next few posts, I'll highlight the recipes that worked for both of us and provide a satisfying change from our usual meat dishes without sacrificing flavor. Stay tuned!

The Royal Sheep - Rhönschaf: Originally uploaded by Ben on Flickr.com.

What's Inside Your Fridge?

Coming home after a long absence, I yank open the refrigerator and peer inside at the unfamiliar bag of grapes or leftover container of rice, wondering if indeed Goldilocks had dropped by and rearranged the contents. Unlike the editor-in-chief of Saveur Magazine who displayed the contents of his refrigerator in the January/February issue, revealing pristine rows of neatly stacked packages and containers, my fridge is chaotic. Above all else, it is a monument to condiments, a kingdom of barbecue sauce (2 bottles), soy sauce (2 bottles), teriyaki, and hoisin. Mayo and mustard (3 kinds, one with champagne) share shelf space with maple syrup (one imitation and the other genuine), capers (2 bottles), vinegar (3 kinds), and olives (Spanish with pimento and kalamata). Oh, it's a staggering collection.

Before I unpack my new groceries, I reorganize and rearrange, vowing to use up the surplus once again until I end up with a refrigerator that even Martha Stewart would be proud of. Then again, like all new year resolutions, this one will likely be just as foolish and will soon be discarded like the vow to give up chocolate. But for a moment, I'm buoyed up with a sense of righteous purpose like the leaders of an odd religious sect, determined to root out sloth and other guilty sins in the kitchen.

Sylvia's Restaurant

"How can you stay in Harlem and not go to Sylvia's?" our friend John said to us a few weeks ago. He's right. Sylvia's has been a Harlem mecca for legendary Southern-style home cooking since the 1960's. Contrite and perpetually hungry, we agreed to go.

Sylvia's Restaurant at 328 Lenox Avenue is owned and operated by the Woods family. Sylvia and Herbert, who met in a bean field when they were eleven and twelve years old, married in 1943, and had four children. In 1962, they opened Sylvia's Restaurant in a storefront on Lenox Avenue with enough room to feed 35 people. Now it occupies nearly a city block and can seat up to 450 people. Since its inception, it has been a family-run place guided by the motto of love for God, love for family, love of good food, and dedication to hard work.

It's an eclectic place with counter service and takeout in one room, which opens into larger,more formal dining rooms with pale green walls and signed portraits of celebrities who want to be immortalized as fans of the ribs and chicken. R took one look at the menu and found a perfect meal--smothered chicken served with a waffle. "A waffle?" I said and he replied, "How can anything with a waffle be bad?" Good point. The chicken, covered in brown gravy, was moist and succulent and fell off the bone. And the waffle was perfect, according to R.



I opted for the ribs, a specialty of the house, and so did John and Joyce. As you can see in the photo, she clearly enjoyed her choice. The meat was succulent and delicious and slathered with Sylvia's sauce, a famous savory blend of tomatoes and pungent spices. Delicious. Aly, who opted for a meatless meal, chose 4 side dishes--which included candied yams, collard greens,string beans, macaroni & cheese, garlic mashed potatoes, and black-eyed peas.



Although I wasn't thrilled with the collard greens, I absolutely loved the corn bread, which was hot and buttery, and melted in my mouth, just like the desserts, which we sampled, despite claiming that we couldn't eat another bite. The peach cobbler and banana bread pudding were fantastic. And so was the fried chicken, and turkey judging from the satisfied smiles of the couple next to us. Well, we'll just have to wait for our next visit.

Sylvia's Restaurant
328 Lenox Avenue near the corner of 127th Street
Harlem, NY

Lighting Up

I don't smoke... thanks, originally uploaded by ƒreg.

I love these vignettes that randomly happen on the street in New York, these flashes of a person’s life that are crystallized in one brief moment. Here’s one I picked up the other day when R and I were walking down Broadway. We were passing a woman who was getting a light from a man on the street. When she straightened up and started puffing on her cigarette, we passed her and I said to Rich:


Me: That smells like pot.

Woman: (overhears me) It is.

Me: Enjoy it.

Woman: I will. This stuff is good. Real good. And I need it. (Laughs)

Review: Ristorante Il Melograno

Alberto Tartari, chef and owner of Il Melograno, has recreated a little corner of Italy in his restaurant on West 5lst Street and 10th Avenue in Manhattan. Named for the pomegranate which adorns most dishes on the menu, this neighborhood spot is just large enough to seat about 50 or so lucky visitors. Dishes are prepared in the Northern Italian tradition and feature imported Italian ingredients and homemade pasta. They are made to order, fresh and hot.

Americans familiar with southern Italian cuisine might be surprised that the menu offers fish and meat dishes with potatoes, but Tartari's recipes are drawn from the Lombardy region, which encompasses Milano and is close to the border with Germany. Pasta does appear on the menu, but it's often paired with savory meat and cream sauces, also typical of northern cuisine.

As we studied the menu, one item after another caught my attention. For a while, I lingered over the veal ravioli with butter, sage, and Parmegiana sauce, but in the end I opted for a lighter dish, pictured in the photo. This luscious blend of San Marzano tomatoes, mozzarella cheese and pasta melted in my mouth. If you look closely, you'll see the fresh basil and pomegranates adorning the dish. Rich and Sue tried the eggplant and penne special, Alex had the fresh pappardelle with sweet sausage sauce, peas and truffle oil, and Paul had the osso buco with roasted potatoes. Everyone declared that their dish was delicious.

Somehow we fended off the tempting offers of homemade desserts, such as tiramisu and chocolate souffle cake, and simply sipped some cappuccino. Even after paying the bill, I wanted to linger in this cozy spot with its open kitchen and winking white lights outlining the front window. But as we reluctantly stepped outside, we promised ourselves that we'd return. In fact it happened sooner than even we expected, for a few days later, we met our nephew and his girlfriend for dinner and settled into the now familiar wooden seats and ate another delicious meal. If you go, buon appetito!



501 West 51st Street
(corner of 51st and 10th)
New York, NY 10019
212.757.9290 or
www.ilmelogranonyc.com

Pizza Wars

Look at that beautiful pizza, fresh from the oven. A brick oven, that is. This was lunch the other day at Zero Otto Nove, a well-known spot on Arthur Avenue in the Bronx for delicious Italian food--and it was delicioso. The crust was ultra thin and light and had that requisite salty tang from the yeast. The toppings were fresh and delicious. We tried the classic margherita with a twist--mozzarella, basil, tomato and mushrooms-- and friends ordered the salernitana with escarole. We all agreed. It was perfetto.

But enter another contender--Lombardi's Pizza on 32 Spring Street, near the corner of Mott. We had to try their coal-fired pizza to see if it is in fact better than the wood-fired variety. So we ate dinner there one night with friends and cousins and shared three pies. At one point someone wondered if 3 pies were too much for the 7 of us, but soon, we had demolished everything except a few crumbs and part of one crust.

The difference between the two cooking methods is subtle. The coal-fired oven reaches higher temperatures, up to 800 degrees, so the crust is more charred and extraordinarily crisp. It's also denser, but still has the subtle tang from the yeast. The toppings were fresh and interesting, but Zero Otto Nove had a wider selection and unusual ingredients like the escarole, potatoes, or butternut squash. Here, we ordered one with sweet Italian sausage and red peppers, another with half mushroom and half onion, and a third with classic white toppings.

In balance, I prefer Lombardi's for the slightly denser crust and tangy char, but Rich chose Zero Otto Nove. He insists that the thinner crust is best but I think that a crust drooping under the weight of its toppings is problematic. Who wants to eat their pizza with a knife and fork? He disagrees. How to settle the score? Try another pizzaria, of course. I'm ready whenever he is.

Patti's Paella

Paella a la Valenciana, originally uploaded by Sutanto.

Friends were coming for supper last night and my oven shorted out, so I had to get creative. I had to find a dish that could be cooked in a limited number of pots, wouldn't be labor intensive, and was nearly fool-proof. Besides, I was staying at a friend's house and didn't have my cookbooks, so I did a quick web search and turned up a winner.

Paella is one of those versatile dishes native to Spain with dozens of permutations. After looking at several recipes, I came up with my own version, a little of this and that. The dish was fragrant and savory. The rice was moist, the chicken was tender, and each bite was infused with wonderful flavor. One of its virtues is its versatility. Seafood can be added or deleted. Vegetarians can eliminate the meat and add more vegetables. Chorizo can be replaced with hot or sweet Italian sausage or even kielbasa. The next time around, I'm going to add more spice, but my recommendation is to taste it before serving and adjust accordingly. We ended up adding some hot sauce, which was just the extra amount of heat we wanted. Regardless, the flavor is excellent.

Ingredients

1 tbsp olive oil
14 oz. chorizo
1 medium onion, chopped
1 red pepper, chopped
1 green pepper, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 tsp. paprika or pimenton
2 cups short or medium grain bbrice
1 pinch saffron threads
1 bay leaf
3.5 cups chicken stock
1 cup white wine
1.5 lbs. chicken breasts cut into chunks or whole chicken, split
1/2 cup frozen peas
1 tomato, chopped
coarse salt and pepper
1 lb. shrimp with tails on
10 mussels (optional)
10 clams (optional)
1tsp. rosemary
1 tsp. thyme
1 tsp. cumin
lemon wedges

1. Mix together paprika, cumin, rosemary, thyme, salt, and pepper and sprinkle on the chicken chunks. Let it marinate in the refrigerator for at least 1 hour.
2. Heat oil in a large Dutch oven or deep pot. Add chorizo,chicken and the spice mixture and cook until browned. Drain excess oil.
3. Add onion, red and green pepper, garlic. Cook, stirring until softened.
4. Add rice, saffron, tomato, and bay leaf. Stir to combine and coat the rice.
5. Add chicken stock and bring to a boil. Stir to blend flavors. Cover. Cook for approximately 20 minutes.
6. In the remaining 10 minutes, add the peas and shrimp. Bury the shrimp deep into the rice and stir. Take a paper towel, place over the pot opening, and put the lid on.
7. When the rice is tender, let the dish sit for a minute in the pot before serving. Serve on a platter with lemon wedges.

Serves 4-6 people.



Enjoy!

The Hungry Gargoyle

This fellow, eager for his next meal, is cheerfully stirring his soup at 527 110th Street in Manhattan. Just around the corner other gargoyles are clinging to the buttresses at St. John Divine, but their purpose is quite different--to scare away the demons and keep the site safe for God. This friendly gourmand just wants to scare away those who want to dip their spoons into his soup. I admire his appetite and tenacity. Buon appetito.

On the Road--Manhattan

Every picture tells a story. Maybe that's why I was so impressed with Jamal Shabazz and his work. The consumate street photographer, Shabazz finds inspiration in everyday scenes and gets to know his subjects before capturing their image. The two young men are Angel and Jesus, two friends hanging out in Times Square about 25 years ago. They're now adults--Jesus on the right is in prison and Angel is fighting drug addiction. The kids playing on the mattress are part of Shabazz's happy kids series--documenting how innocence thrives even in the most unlikely places. As he talks about his art, Shabazz's respect for his subjects, innate curiousity about them, and his commitment to have an impact on their lives highlight his work.

His photographs are on display in the Street Life, Street Art exhibit at the Bronx Photography Museum in New York through January. To see more of his work online, click on this link:

The Metro Diner

It’s nothing fancy, but the waiters are friendly, the food is fresh, abundant, and tasty, and the prices aren’t bad…for Manhattan. Besides, what’s New York without the deli experience? Rich always orders the tuna on rye with onions, which he declares tastes like none other. I’m more inclined to get the Greek salad, or the hummus plate loaded with sliced cucumbers and tomatoes, baba ganough, tabouli, olives and a basket of warm pita bread. The omelets are also winners. I usually get the Greek. The rye toast has the requisite buttery crunch and the hash browns are crisp and savory. Am I making you hungry? Well, what are you waiting for?

The Metro Diner
2641 Broadway # 1
New York, NY 10025
(212) 866-0800