Still haven't made it to Momofuku Ko (can't seem to perform that Pavlovian task of logging on every day at 10am and frantically pecking at the keyboard in hope of getting a reservation) but finally dined at David Chang's latest outpost in midtown, Mà Pêche. It's what you might expect from an uptown version: roomier, sleeker and slightly more soulless. As chef, Chang has installed Tien Ho, formerly the boss of the kitchen at Momofuku Ssam Bar, which still remains my favorite of the empire. As Sam Sifton put it in in his review in the Times, "The food is not quite as precise and magical as it often is in the downtown restaurants, but it is recognizably Changish and strong: big flavors tied together with herbs and acids." I killed some time in the dimly-lit bar first and things started off with a bang. There was a bar snack of what looked like pork rinds and turned out to be large, crunchy cassava chips dusted with salt and spicy shichimi togarashi, a favorite spice blend of mine that was also used to spike a yuzu-infused sake "sour." Needless to say, I was very happy to sit there devouring Jonathan Franzen's "Freedom" and the entire bowl of chips along with my cocktail.
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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.
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Alex Raij is the chef and co-owner of Txikito, a wonderful restaurant in Manhattan with its own uniquely personal take on Basque cuisine. I have eaten there on many occasions—on my own or with a friend for lunch, with groups big and small for dinner—and she has never failed to impress me with her imaginative and delicious cooking. El Quinto Pino, a more traditional tapas bar, is also part of her empire, which I'm sure will continue to diversify and grow in popularity. Chef Alex was kind enough to agree to an interview and submitted to a quick photo session with G. She even passed along a recipe for the basil pomada served at El Quinto Pino (I've done my best to adapt it faithfully). The result is the first of what I hope will be a series of interviews on gluttonforlife.
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There comes a time every summer when I fetishize plums. When I lived in Los Angeles, I got to know many different varieties: Santa Rosa, Greengage (Reine Claude), Damson, pluots and more. And somewhere tucked away, I still have a recipe for a lightly sweet and dry cake studded with juicy Italian plums I got from the Times more than 2 decades ago. I'll share it with you a bit later in the summer, when those plums are at their peak. I prefer plums when they are ice cold and rather firm, juicy but still a little tart. Still, I'm not opposed to popping a yielding little sugarplum into my mouth and licking its sweet syrup from my fingers. But before I go all Nigella on you, I want to tell you about a quick and easy way to make spicy plum pickles. Sometimes you buy a few too many, or you just can't eat one more right now and they're about to pass their prime, and that's when you might consider this recipe.

 

Last night I dined at Blue Hill at Stone Barns, the much lauded restaurant that is at the heart of the Stone Barns Center for Food and Agriculture. The restaurant sources pristine ingredients from the surrounding fields and pasture, as well as other local farms, and some farther afield--including the Barber's own family farm in Great Barrington, MA, also called Blue Hill, where it all began with their grandmother. There are just two tasting menus available—5 courses or 8—and the menu lists only a long series of ingredients (more than 100), so that diners can see the palette with which the chef Dan Barber is working that day. He is deeply invested in building flavor literally from the ground up. I once saw him speak about his attempt to grow carrots flavored with almond. (It didn't work.) This is seasonal, farm-to-table eating in locavore heaven. Their websiteis very deep and rich, and you can lose yourself for ages there reading fascinating stories and watching wonderful little videos about their eclectic providers (the mushroom farmer, the berry guy, etc.). I recommend a visit—to the website and the restaurant, and to the farm, for that matter.

 

photo from the new york times

Run don't walk to see Alfred Molina play Mark Rothko in Red on Broadway. This two-man play, also featuring the young British actor Eddie Redmayne (you may remember him as Matt Damon's son in The Good Shepherd), comes to us from a successful run in London. Written by John Logan (whose screenplays include Sweeney Todd, The Aviator and Gladiator), Red delivers an authentic and complex portrait of Rothko as he works on a series of murals commissioned for—but ultimately never delivered to—the swank Four Seasons restaurant. He is ferocious, pedantic and very funny, and Molina fully inhabits this character, body and soul. Redmayne does a great job of portraying his young assistant, ambitious and brash in his own right. There is no intermission, and the play moves along quite briskly. It received a roaring standing ovation the night I was there.
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I spent the day in Brooklyn today with my friend Alberta. My, have things changed. I lived in Williamsburg from 1990-1993, back when it was still almost entirely populated by working-class Italians and Polish. Now the hipsterati have taken over, with their tattoos, ragged facial hair and allegedly unstudied fashion choices (from steampunk to 80s-redux). I lived upstairs from Georgie's Italian deli on Metropolitan Avenue, and she's still there today, 92 years old and crafting the best smoked mozzarella. We made it to the mecca trifecta that is Diner, Marlow & Sons and Marlow & Daughters, but having already had delicious lunch at Bedouin Tent on Atlantic Avenue (amazing labne, fabulous merguez, so cheap) just had a refreshing aperol spritz and a piece of thyme shortbread at the bar in Marlow & Sons.

Marlow & Daughters is a grocery and butcher shop offshoot just up the street. Nice fresh produce. Picked up a lovely wedge of gouda studded with fenugreek, and ogled a Boston butt with an impressive rind of fat. But I think Dickson's still holds the title for best meat porn.Bedford Avenue, where back in the day we went to eat bigos, the Polish hunter's stew of sauerkraut with copious amount of kielbasa (I used to call it bigos fartos), now bears a resemblance to the St. Mark's of yore. It's definitely more raw than Soho (what isn't?) but I'll bet American Apparel will be springing up on every corner any second now. Still, if you've already taken Manhattan, spend the day in Williamsburg, Boerum Hill or Fort Greene. There's lots to see, eat and buy, if you've got a hankering...
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Fresh off another stellar dinner at Momofuku Ssam (twice in one week!), I feel compelled to re-post the recipe for one of my favorite cocktails this year: the Penicillin. Originally created by Sam Ross at Milk & Honey in New York City, it is beautifully executed by the stellar barkeeps at David Chang's gastro-temple. Do try this at home. You'll feel so much better...PENICILLINby Sam Ross, as adapted for Momofuku Ssam, and translated by me2 ounces Asyla Scotch (a delicate and dry blended whiskey, with a smoky vanilla taste)¾ ounce fresh lemon juice¾ ounce ginger-honey syrup (recipe follows)Combine ingredients and shake with ice. Strain into a chilled rocks glass, over a few large cubes of ice or, as at Momofuku, one enormous hand-carved cube. Optional garnish with a piece of candied ginger.GINGER-HONEY SYRUPCombine ½ cup honey and ½ cup water in a small saucepan over medium heat and whisk until well combined. Add a 1-2” knob of peeled, sliced fresh ginger and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and gently simmer for 10 minutes. Cover and allow to cool completely, then strain. Keep refrigerated.
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Can I tell you a little secret? I absolutely love eating lunch out by myself. As much as I enjoy meeting friends, I really like taking an hour out, relaxing with a book (on my Kindle!) or just taking in the sights. It doesn't have to be a fancy place—I'm a huge fan of the very low-key City Bakery—but I'll confess to having a weakness for fine dining. (What, you didn't know?!) I was in the Madison Square Park area, scarcely having recovered from dinner the previous night at Momofuku Ssam (where I accidentally ate a big piece of kimchi and had the WORST garlic breath for about 12 hours; OK, and I ate the MOST delicious lo mein noodles with trout roe and the skinniest ramps all afloat in pools of butter), and I had an hour or so to kill before a meeting, so I decided to duck into 11 Madison Park for a little luncheon. I knew I could eat at the bar there, having done so in the past, and I often prefer that when I'm alone. It's a very beautiful room, as you can see above, and pretty much everything about the place is perfection. The service, as at all of Danny Meyer's restaurants, is very friendly, but it's also rather formal here.
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I've never gotten into reality TV, never seen Top Chef, so I can only judge Tom Colicchio on the basis of his food which I think is pretty damn good. It was over a luxurious dinner at Craft in 2005 that G requested permission to officially court me. I still remember coyly nodding my head as I stuffed in a mouthful of roasted chanterelles. This was a man who knew the way to my heart. (Which one? you're asking...) I've also been a loyal fan of Craftbar over the years, especially during the reign of Akhtar Nawab, when you could sip some delicious Campari cocktail at the bar while noshing on fried sage leaves stuffed with sausage. These days, in its new location on Broadway, Craftbar is still a fun spot—and a good deal—for lunch. During the abbreviated run of Craftsteak, I had one of the best steaks of my life, a flatiron. But I remember being rather appalled at the blasting air-conditioning (for all those sweaty, rib-eye-eating Wall Streeters) and the equally affronting price tag. Now this huge, wood-filled space has been reincarnated as Colicchio and Sons—a more modest but also more ambitious restaurant. As Sam Sifton of the Times said in his 3-star review last week, "A lot of testosterone has been drained off, and a combination of flowers and a Grateful Deadish soundtrack do much to counter the boom-era feel of the restaurant’s towering ceilings and soft leather seats." I took a friend there for her birthday lunch yesterday but arrived early, so decided to perch at the bar while I waited. Of course this led to a cocktail (at noon!), a wonderful combination of thyme-infused vodka with lemon and ginger ale called the Hard Thyme, accompanied by a teensy bowl of chile-roasted nuts. When my friend arrived, I was pleasantly loose and ready for anything.
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