Happy Chinese New Year! It's the year of the rabbit, which happens to be my year. Those born under this sign are said to be extremely lucky, articulate, talented, ambitious and have excellent taste. We are admired, trusted and tend to be financially fortunate. Though fond of gossip, we are tactful and generally kind. Ahem. Evidently, a rabbit year brings peace after the ferocious and demanding year of the tiger. I've never understood why people referred to "the man in the moon," when it is so clearly a rabbit. The Chinese see the Moon Hare standing near a rock under a cassia tree, holding the Elixir of Immortality in its paws. Check it out next time the moon is full; the ears are unmistakable.
Read More...

I'm a bit of a contrarian; it's just my nature. I tend to go against the grain and I've never been much of a joiner. But I am aware of the "Meatless Monday" movement, a non-profit campaign slated to help people—and corporations and entire nations—become more conscious of the need to eat less meat. Loads of bloggers participate by posting a non-meat recipe every Monday. I support this effort, but rather than finding one day a week to go without meat, I suggest we have only one day that features it. If we all ate meat just once a week, that would really make a difference to our health and that of the planet. So with that in mind, instead of hosting Meatless Monday, I'm going to introduce Meaty Monday—with meat as the exception, not the rule. (This doesn't mean I'll never post about meat or meat-related recipes on other days; this blog is not about Draconian extremes.) This is also the perfect opportunity for me to tell you about something that, in true contrarian style, will totally contradict everything I've just said: I'm participating in Charcutepalooza.
Read More...

I was quite an amenable child where food was concerned. Aside from a mild hatred of onions in my enchiladas, the only two things I simply couldn't stomach were meatballs and lamb. On meatball night, all my mother asked was that I eat just one, but doing so was pure, unadulterated hell. Even washing the dishes upon which those brown nuggets had been served made me gag. Literally. I'm not really prepared to believe the obvious scatalogical reference was responsible, but what else could it have been? Whatever it was, I've finally outgrown it. I think it was the incredible veal-and-ricotta meatballs at the old Craftbar that did it (still on the menu at the new location). The real shocker is that I now enjoy making them myself with the sweet, juicy pastured lamb we get from our friends at River Brook farm.
Read More...

I've spent quite a lot of time ruminating over this post. Like a cow chewing its cud, I have carefully digested everything I've gleaned from reading Fast Food Nation, Omnivore's Dilemma, In Defense of Food, Eating Animals and Food Matters, and watching Supersize Me and the incredibly eye-widening Food Inc. At the very least, I think I can say I'm a conscious eater. I'm not going to delve into the horrifying truth of how government and industry conspired to convince us that we all need to have a big slab of (corn-fed) meat at the center of most of our meals on a daily basis, I'm just going to say that we should all be eating a great deal less of the stuff—for our own sake and that of the planet. But a recent article in Vanity Fair, where fluffy blonde wellness "guru" Kathy Freston (Tom Freston's wife, so she can't be far from her own show on Oprah's new network) convinces a die-hard British carnivore to turn vegan really got my hackles up because of its one-sided presentation of the issue.
Read More...

I'm a terrible friend. I've been horribly remiss in preparing you for the grand holiday feast. I'm (sort of) ashamed to admit that I don't have a backlog of my own recipes and accompanying photos to offer you here, so I'm going to do another of my motley compendiums. Above is the roast leg of lamb with garlic sauce that I will be serving my sister and niece on the first night of their visit. Here's the recipe. It looks pretty easy and, as a recent convert to lamb, I'll be sticking my thermometer in and not trusting my own instincts. I recommend you do the same. On the side there will be a rich and buttery puree of celeriac and potato—do you really need a recipe? Oh hell, here's one. (I think I'll use buttermilk instead of the cream, though.) Also a simple arugula salad with a light champagne vinaigrette. For Christmas Eve dinner, we're invited to some friends' home for paella. I'm in charge of dessert; more on that another day. Inspired? Here's a slew of good-looking paella recipes.
Read More...

This seductive soup is pronounced "fuh," like the word for fire in French. I had wanted to post a gorgeous "pho"-to of a big, steaming bowl of it, but we ate the entire pot before I got the chance. So instead, here's one of a woman in the market in Saigon scarfing down this wonderful national dish. Pho is traditionally eaten for breakfast in Vietnam, but it goes down like a charm for lunch and dinner, too. It's great stuff for cold weather eating, but that doesn't prevent South East Asians from having it in the raging heat. A rich but clear beef broth, infused with star anise, clove, cinnamon and ginger, it is traditionally served with slices of raw sirloin, shallots, bean sprouts, cilantro, Thai basil, mint, lots of slippery, chewy rice noodles, a squeeze of lime and maybe some chile. It's not so complicated; mostly, it just takes time. I love how you char ginger and onions directly over the flame of your burner; it imparts just a hint of smokiness that is very reminiscent of outdoor cooking in Asia. As with all stocks, you make this ahead so you can skim off the fat, and it's quite a healthful and nourishing dish because of the good nutrition from bones. Of course, I urge you to make this with meat from a happy cow, please. For its sake, and for yours.
Read More...

A surfeit of green tomatoes had me racking my brain—and scanning the web—for recipes that called for neither frying nor pickling. I came across one that looked pretty easy and interesting on Melissa Clark's blog. You've probably read her column in the Times, but may not know that she has collaborated with all the best chefs on a zillion cookbooks, including Daniel Boulud's Braise, a particular favorite of mine around this time of year. (It features fantastic recipes for short ribs; grouper with fennel and cashews; and carbonnade with Belgian beer and gingerbread, among many others.) So she knew what she was doing when she threw together this dish of country-style pork ribs slow-braised with green tomatoes, citrus and vermouth. And, if I do say so myself, I knew what I was doing by serving it with fresh, warm cornbread.
Read More...

Time and again (and again and again), you've heard me refer to Dickson's Farmstand, a purveyor of locally sourced, humanely raised animals. Their shop in Chelsea Market is the only place, other than the farm upstate, where I feel comfortable buying meat or poultry. One visit, and you will know why. They also have amazing smoked meats, beef jerky seasoned with an addictive mix of star anise and red chile, wonderful terrines and rillettes, and a lunch menu that changes daily, featuring delectable sandwiches and hot dishes as well. The owner, Jake Dickson, has made real strides not only in the way he sources his animals, but in the way they're presented and in the service he offers customers. One of Dickson's purveyors, Bob Comis of Stony Brook Farm in Schoharie, referred to Jake as “a forerunner in the creation of the BSA model.” Business-Supported Agriculture is a new farm-to-business model, firmly rooted in the tenets of Community-Supported Agriculture, in which both sides are open and honest about their financial positions and take responsibility for the success of the other, simultaneously cultivating and supporting the farm and the business to build profitable enterprises in real partnership. When you think about the way that industrial agriculture has undermined small farms, the quality of the food we eat and thus, ultimately, our health, this is no small achievement. Jake was kind enough to share with me how and why he started his business, along with some other meaty tidbits.
Read More...

The very day the Times gave Takashi a rave review, Dickson's announced it would be co-hosting a special dinner there, featuring an all-beef menu from a single steer it would supply. As a big fan of Dickson's, conscientiously-raised beef, Korean barbecue and adventurous eating, I couldn't really pass up the opportunity. Takashi—the name of the chef and his restaurant—opened in April in Manhattan's West Village, and seems to be occupying a new space in the city's dining landscape. The food is in the style of yakiniku, a Japanese version of Korean barbecue that originated in Japan during the Second World War, when many thousands of Koreans were conscripted into the Japanese army and brought to the island to work. Chef Takashi Inoue's grandmother is Korean and runs a small yakiniku restaurant in Osaka. Takashi came to the United States three years ago to study English, met Saheem Ali—then a theater director, now the restaurant’s general manager—and together they opened this small restaurant. The quality of the meat on offer is fantastic. At the dinner we attended, it all came from one steer that had been provided by Dickson's. It was a real adventure in nose-to-tail eating, and one that honored Dickson's fine beef, Takashi's original cooking, and the magnificent animal that made it all possible.
Read More...

Low and slow, that's how we cook it. Our two 12-pound Boston butts from Dickson's, rubbed with a heady mix of chile powder, cumin, brown sugar, salt and cayenne, were on the smoker by 10am the morning of the 4th. G actually prefers smoking on the Weber, because it retains the heat much better, but ours is just not big enough to accommodate all that pig. Several hours of smoking over hickory and apple wood chips, a couple in the oven, an hour to rest and then G and Philip were up to their elbows chopping barbecue. I almost fell flat on my face in the kitchen, the floor was so slippery.

After they pulled and chopped the smoky, fatty pork, I doused it with an Eastern North Carolina hot sauce made from vinegar, Tabasco and red pepper flakes. It's an irresistible combination: salty, tangy, spicy, smoky richness. Then this gets piled on a cheap, soft potato roll, smothered in pickles (dill or bread-&-butter, your choice), with perhaps an extra dash of hot sauce, and you've got some authentic barbecue. A high-falutin' roll is not welcome; you need something that breaks down easily and sops up all that juice. And though we don't generally do white flour in our house, this is a worthy exception.
Read More...