Travel

Isn't it wonderful when the stars align? Sometimes things just come together as though they're fated. I chanced across this video from Food Network on Facebook, I think it was on the Saveur page, and was instantly entranced. The miraculous marriage of bread and chocolate, writ irresistibly large—and lo! I was headed to the Berkshires for a visit with G's parents, not more than 15 minutes from the source of this manna from heaven: Berkshire Mountain Bakery. Within a week of seeing it, I was actually biting into this crusty, melty, tangy concoction and truly living the fantasy. And let me tell you, it did not disappoint.
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It seems that birthday celebrations call for Stone Barns. And not just birthdays—the place is thick with tipsy bridesmaids and full-on wedding parties. You may recall that last January I chose to turn 48 within its glorious confines. G and I dined there recently with a group of friends to fête the marvelous Matthew on the occasion of his 50th. Each of the three times I've been in the last 18 months have been revelatory experiences; not only the food, but the service and the ambiance elevate this restaurant above most others. It's part of a multi-million dollar farming, education and hospitality enterprise, and much of the food served is raised on the grounds or locally. This summer, I was lucky enough to get a little window into the kitchen when my sister-in-law secured an externship as part of her program at I.C.E. In lay terms, that means she worked there. She assuaged my jealousy by religiously recounting tips, techniques and stories from behind the scenes at one of this country's finest restaurants. It was almost as good as eating there...
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In addition to being a style icon, the First Lady is a renowned gastronaut. (This is the word I substitute for the loathed "foodie.") We know she's actively concerned about what the children of this nation are consuming, but she and the President are also really into food. I often read about them dining á deux at various hot-spots around the country, so it was delightful but hardly surprising to hear that, during their recent trip to New York City, Michelle paid a visit to a new hole-in-the-wall that's been getting lots of buzz, Danji in Hell's Kitchen. In fact, they had to close the place down for her the very day before we went, with Secret Service in the kitchen and the whole deal. After a very favorable review in last month's New York Times, this 36-seat place, billed as "modern Korean tapas," went right on my list of essential eating. It's got quite a lot in common with the Momofuku restaurants: relatively short on atmo, but long on intense and memorable Asian-inflected flavors executed with classic techniques. We'll definitely be going back to sample the rest of the menu.
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I've told you before of my longstanding devotion to Aesop, the Australian skin- and body-care company, and FINALLY they have arrived in New York. They put so much thought and creativity into everything they do—from their all-natural, socially-conscious products to their creative store design—that it's a pleasure to support the brand. First they opened a kiosk in Grand Central Station, and now their 40th stand-alone location has opened in Nolita, with University Place and Bleecker Street outposts slated for later this year. The unifying design theme, from local architect Jeremy Barbour, is the use of repurposed editions of The New York Times. It creates a soft, faintly industrial look that's a fine, neutral backdrop for the products. Run, don't walk, to stock up on their wonderful Geranium Body Scrub, Fabulous Face Oil and Vetiver Deodorant. They've also launched Thirty Views of New York, a month-long series of recommendations from a diverse roster of cultural luminaries. Every day through October 11th, a different contributor shares a favorite location in New York. It's all part of Aesop's "passionate engagement with the cultural landscape," and is of a piece with their excellent newsletter, which pulls together an international listing of interesting and timely things to do, eat, watch, read, etc.On my way to Tribeca the other day, another new store on West Broadway caught my eye, and I stopped in for a quick look. Turns out it was Treasure & Bond, new from Nordstrom but disguised as a downtown hipster boutique.
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Welcome back, dear readers! How I have missed you! True to form, the month of August flew past in a frenzy of gardening, entertaining, hurricanes and, sadly, poison ivy. I never sat in the hammock, did not put even one dent into the promised coding of recipes and went on precious few hikes, but I did make some delicious frozen yogurt and popsicles, perfected my gazpacho recipe and reorganized both my freezers. One highlight was definitely the Outstanding in the Field dinner we attended in Chester, New York. You may remember we went to one in Roscoe last year. It was held at Blooming Hill Farm, where more than 200 varieties of organic produce are grown on this unbelievable black soil. This area of Orange Country is actually known as the "Black Dirt Region" because of the dark, extremely fertile soil left over from an ancient glacial lake bottom and augmented by decades of past flooding of the Wallkill River. (They found wooly mammoth remains when they were planting the farm!) It was long considered wasteland, but when Eastern European immigrants arrived in the mid-19th century, they recognized this type of land and knew how to dig trenches to drain it so it could be farmed. I've never seen anything so rich and black and loamy; it looks like devil's food cake.
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I can scarcely believe that August has arrived already! The dog days are nipping at my heels, urging me towards the hammock. (I will put my feet up, I will put my feet up.) I miss you already. It will be all I can do not to tell you about every delightful morsel that passes my lips, every bear that climbs over the fence behind the bedroom window (yes, this happened last week!), every adorable gherkin that goes straight from the vine to the jar of pickling brine in the fridge. But rest and recharge I must, and focus on my novel, where progress is slow but steady. Much like G's rehab. He is slouching toward wellness, and his second coming will be glorious to behold.If you haven't been following the blog since its inception, I urge you to check out posts from summers past during my month off. There are plenty of seasonal recipes (like panna cotta scented with lemon balm and korean barbecue and blackberry-geranium sorbet) and images of other Augusts to keep you inspired and engaged. Or maybe you need a little time off, too. Perhaps you'll visit the new Aesop kiosk in Grand Central, made entirely out of more than 1,000 copies of The New York Times. Or catch the Alexander McQueen exhibit at the Met before it closes next week. Or finally get to Brooklyn to eat at Fatty 'Cue. (See you there!) Or read a great book. Live in LA? Maybe you'll track down that Korean taco truck to see what all the fuss is about. Live in Chicago? Maybe you'll score a reservation at Grant Achatz's new "Next" restaurant. Maybe you'll buy a new juicer, or a fabulous pair of fall boots, or the quintessential Gray Kunz spoons like the ones I got from my thoughtful friend Louise. Whatever you're doing, I hope it makes your toes curl and your tongue tingle and your mind race and your heart swell with passion, like a true glutton for life.See you after Labor Day!
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The corn and tomatoes are in, signaling high summer. My refrigerator is ridiculous, bursting with cucumbers and chard from the garden, and okra and padrón peppers from the farmers' market. Never refrigerate your tomatoes, it ruins the flavor and texture. Just leave them out on the counter in a cool spot. (This is a tip I learned from Martha Stewart many years ago and I have never forgotten it.) On Monday, August arrives, and with it my last post for a while. Time for a little vacation—staycation, really, as G's leg is still healing and travel is not yet a possibility. We may take some local trips, inspired by this recent article on great spots in the Catskills from the most recent issue of Travel & Leisure. Here are a few more ideas for things to make, see, do and get (oops, sounding a little like Goop) as the mercury rises...
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This blog has been live for about 18 months now, and I was accruing posts for about 6 months prior to that. So it's about time I organized some of this material in more user-friendly ways. It's happening incrementally, so even though there is a seasonal archive listed, I have to go through and code all the recipes before they actually appear there. Sigh. There are only about 300 of them so I should be finished sometime before the apocalypse. And I got my gorgeous new multi-tasking domestic goddess illustration up, but my banner images went all wonky and reverted to seasons past. Bear with me. It will all come right before you know it. Not the most professional approach, but the best I can manage at the moment. There is a new print icon next to recipes, which now allows you to print only the recipe and not the entire post. And soon there will be more new and improved features: stay tuned. I would really appreciate any feedback or requests in terms of how this site functions. It's a work in progress and I value your input, gentle readers. Without you, I'm nothing (except a harried woman running between the stove, the computer and the garden). Have a fantastic weekend!
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G and I are homeward bound! We're getting on a plane tomorrow night, first class on Singapore Air! We're so ready. It's been a strange interlude, living in a hotel in Yogyakarta, Indonesia, watching my husband drift in and out of a morphine haze. I can't say I'll miss the room service food, but I will miss stumbling across exotic ingredients everywhere I go. Like this striking dragon fruit. We drove through a big grove of the cactus-like trees—almost like snakey Medusa heads—that produce this fantastical fruit and couldn't resist stopping at a roadside stand to buy one. According to the New York Times, here, the dragon fruit is having a bit of a moment, increasingly showing up on the menus of renowned chefs at groovy restaurants.
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Though there are some male purveyors in the markets here in Yogyakarta, the majority of them are women. Many are old, very old, with frail frames, deeply lined faces and tiny, gnarled hands. Others are robust, middle-aged and full of high spirits, greeting a foreigner with a cheery "Hallo, madam!" They are clearly industrious and capable, eking out a living without the benefit of much education, I would imagine. In a city that is 70% Muslin, many women wear the head scarf, the hijab. Most favor traditional batik clothing over Western dress. I was captivated by their faces, their pride, their joyful spirits. I'm careful taking their pictures, though, as I'm aware it can be an imposition. I either ask permission, which is generally granted but often elicits a self-conscious pose; or I try to snap discreetly, which is a bit catch-as-catch-can. Here follows my tribute to these ladies of the market.
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