Travel

Have you been to Txikito yet? As its name indicates (a Basque version of  the Spanish "chiquito," which means tiny), this Chelsea restaurant has only a few tables, and you'd be lucky to grab one on any night (or at lunch). Chefs and owners Eder Montero and Alexandra Raij turn out some wonderful regional Spanish food that takes me back to the years I spent in that beautiful country. My father was a professor of Spanish literature and, every seven years, would take his sabbatical there. I attended the 4th and 10th grades in Madrid, and went back for two semesters off when I was in college. I fell in love with the place, the people, the food, the language. Some of the dishes at Txikito work upon my memory in the way that Proust's madeleine did his: the fat, silky white asparagus of Navarra; the crisp croquetas with their centers oozing creamed cod or chicken; the boquerones, subtly saline white anchovies; but, most of all, the ensaladilla rusa. (Little Russian salad, supposedly invented by a Russian in the late 19th century.)

I used to eat this delightful version of potato salad, a classic Spanish tapa, almost every Sunday morning when I lived in Madrid in my twenties. They served it at a little café right on the edge of el rastro, the big flea market. The most outrageous punks would go there, flaunting their sky-high mohawks, tight leathers and scary piercings. I remember feeling super cool, kicking the sawdust on the floor, smoking my Marlboro reds and taking leisurely bites of this rich, creamy salad. Txiquito's version—potatoes, peas, carrots and bits of green olive bound together with homemade mayonnaise and mounded atop a salty layer of oil-cured tuna—takes me right back there.
Read More...

I've been in Minneapolis for work the past couple of days. Staying at a rather nice boutique hotel, The Chambers, that was recently acquired by Starwood. It's known as "the art hotel," because it's actually full of paintings and installations by "real" artists. The work in my room, however, is nothing to write home about. Had some lovely mussels here today. I once threw up out the door of a cab while driving up West Broadway, after having eaten a bad mussel at Caroline's comedy club in the seaport. This was sometime in the late 80s, but I still have a deep mistrust of these bivalves. They can be strangely murky and unpleasantly chewy. But ignoring the siren's call of the thin-crust pizza, I ordered a large bowl of the creatures. They arrived, plump and velvety soft, swimming in a creamy broth, scented with wine and garlic. WHAT'S WRONG WITH THAT? Not a thing. With these and a crisp green salad, I was happy. The meal put me in mind of another business trip, this one to Seattle, where I dined on a delicious bowl of Manila clams in a green coconut curry. And that reminded me that I've been meaning to share with you this wonderful recipe from Casa Mono, a Mario Batali side project where they serve delicious Spanish-influenced small plates.
Read More...

As you can see, I'm not the only one wild about citrus. This was one of the many monkeys we encountered on our honeymoon in India two years ago. What a magical trip it was! I recommend that you get there in this lifetime. I've already written a bit about the trip and floating through the southern canals, but I wanted to share a few more of G's beautiful photos that document the color and charm of this amazing, multi-faceted place. We journeyed from Kerala to the mountains, to Mumbai, and then on to Rajasthan. We stayed on the beach, on a houseboat, in a fantastic tent on the edge of a tiger preserve, at the Taj in Mumbai (exactly one year before it was assaulted by terrorists) and in an 18th century palace in the hills outside Udaipur. It's hard to convey the experience of being in India: the weight of history, the sublime palette, the mass of humanity, the ornamentation and decay. As Mark Twain famously said, "India is the cradle of the human race, the birthplace of human speech, the mother of history, the grandmother of legend, and the great-grandmother of tradition. Our most valuable and most astrictive materials in the history of man are treasured up in India only!" Once the jewel in the crown of Queen Victoria, India is still one of the planet's most rare and precious gems.
Read More...

Friends often suggest I go into the catering business, but the thought makes my skin crawl. I find it hard to imagine feeding people I scarcely know (and possibly don't even like). Yet nothing gives me greater pleasure than cooking for those I love. Cooking is my gift, and sometimes it can make a nice present. My last night in LA, I was lucky enough to be able to celebrate the birthday of a good friend, someone who has known my family for nearly 40 years. She let me into her kitchen (a cook's paradise, amazingly organized and well stocked) and I did my thing. Knowing that Santa Monica Seafood was nearby, I decided to make a dish that would take advantage of all that fresh, gleaming seafood. The result was this warming but relatively light bouillabaisse, the classic French fisherman's stew. It contains a mix of ingredients typical of Provence: seafood, garlic, tomato, saffron and fennel. Although some will say it’s not truly bouillabaisse without the rascasse (scorpion fish), I say hooey. Use whatever firm, white-fleshed fish you like and throw in all manner of shellfish, including scallops, clams, mussels, lobster and shrimp (in the shell, preferably). It’s about what’s fresh, and what you like best, of course.
Read More...

Among the friends I count myself lucky to have in Los Angeles is Mirena Kim, the woman responsible for this wonderful pottery. She is an artist, whose aesthetic extends to everything she touches. Simple, soulful and subtle, with an underlying warmth, it is also a reflection of her persona. Not only did I get to visit her home studio, but there I was treated to a fantastic lunch. Born in Korea and raised in Los Angeles, Mirena was the person who introduced me to Korean food (and taught me what to order in New York's Korean barbecue restaurants) and first brought me to the huge Asian supermarket (and food court) in downtown L.A. We are kindred spirits who share a love of cooking, art, textiles, domesticity and a good laugh.
Read More...

I've entered the Inland (aka Evil) Empire, my sister's lair that lies northeast of Los Angeles. Living at the foot of Mount Baldy makes for some impressive scenery. Looking up, your gaze rises from arid, sunny chapparal to snowy peaks. Also known as Mount San Antonio or Old Baldy (so-called for the lack of trees at its summit), the tallest point is at about 10,000 feet above sea level, making it the highest in the San Gabriel mountains. The Tongva Indian tribe call the mountain Yoát or Joat, which means snow. It's splendid and majestic, lording it over this flat plain. Susi and Seth treated us to a delicious dinner of a garlicky stew of root vegetables with fennel-spiked turkey meatballs and a crisp endive salad. For dessert, Seth made a variation on one of my favorite cakes, with whole oranges and almond flour (gluten-free!)—I actually posted the recipe here some months back. His version also includes whole lime. I'll bet you can modify the recipe with all manner of citrus—tangerines, grapefruit, yuzu—to great effect. The inclusion of the whole fruit, rind and all (boiled until soft), contributes an interesting note of bitterness to this dense, not-too-sweet cake.
Read More...

There's nothing better than celebrating with friends, is there? My favorite part about visiting LA is seeing my old pals, just surrounding myself with a big group of them and basking in their familiar and fabulous auras. I also love to cook for my friends so that's what I did yesterday. Made enchiladas, a dish my mother often served at large dinner parties. Although I love them with red chile sauce, I decided to make the ones with green tomatillo sauce. You can see the recipe here. I bought out all the tomatillos from the Whole Foods on Fairfax.
Read More...

It's blustery and cold in Los Angeles. Last week they were crowing about their perfect weather. Temperatures soared into the 80s. I set foot on the tarmac and it starts pissing with rain. But I'm sure it's not personal. LA and I have a longstanding affair. The delicious food and quirky star sightings will do for now. Lisa took me to a great restaurant for lunch on Abbot Kinney in Venice: Gjelina. It's new since I was last here and it was packed to the gills with lanky surfer types (probably working in graphic design) and impossibly thin girls in floaty cardigans and sandals. Gjelina embraces the current reclaimed aesthetic with vintage wood walls and light fixtures cobbled together from old bulbs and pipes. Very steampunk, very Billyburg. The food sits somewhere between AOC and Mozza, with lots of small plates and 14 types of pizza from the wood-burning oven. The menu reads like a who's who of the locavore ingredient elite: burrata, persimmon, sunchokes, housemade chorizo, anaheim chiles. We were hard-pressed to make up our minds. In the end, we started with a lovely, light salad of escarole and sunchokes with preserved lemon, smoked almonds and shaved parmesan.
Read More...

Air travel can now be lumped in with some of life's worst experiences, along with root canals and visiting the post office. I think it's safe to say I will never book another ticket on Delta. Not only did we have to pay to check one suitcase apiece, but G got hammered with another $90 because his bag was 7 pounds over their maximum. Imagine how much revenue they could generate if they charged for the excess weight around most of their customers' waistlines instead! In-flight headphones? Another charge. Crappy "snacks" that no one should be eating anyway? Get out your wallet. Sadly, we did not board with our usual stash of tasty treats, so we were forced to make do with a bag of trail mix and some water. This made dinner in LA something to look forward to with relish. Driving through torrential rains to our friend Lisa's fab Spanish-style triplex in West Hollywood, I had AOC on the brain. It's the second restaurant of much-lauded chef Suzanne Goin, a woman with an inspired palate and the face of an elfin angel.
Read More...

After a long day of work meetings and running around the city (and, yes, a mani/pedi with the Chanel "Black Satin" nail polish I have been hoarding for 2 years), I returned to the Ace and decided to have a late lunch/early dinner at The Breslin to see if I could experience what the fuss is all about. A you may recall, I tried their burger and excellent thrice-cooked fries from room service. And I also had some airy pumpkin pancakes with melted chile butter at brunch the next day that I really can't complain about. But much has been written about the alleged nose-to-tail eating at this joint, so I wanted to root around in the menu a bit more. As it turns out, I snarfled down quite a panoply of delights, so if you're thinking of making the trek to 29th and Broadway, press on, gentle reader.
Read More...