foodie nyc

Pork, Meet Dork

I woke up this morning, assessed my pre-shave beard scruffage in the bathroom mirror, then quickly noticed I had a shit-eating grin on my face.

I looked around the corner and confirmed Sandra Lee was not in my bedroom. 

Then I quickly realized the cause of my pure, uncompromised joy.

As I applied my shaving cream, I confirmed the events of last night's activities.

A few minutes after walking by Molto Mario's table on my way to our seats at Momofuku Ssam, a guy from his party came over with a plate of pork ribs they couldn't finish.  Mario looked right over at me (not unintentionally, I assure you.  He is obviously addicted to Foodie NYC and reads this blog obsessively.  It wasn't like I was the only member of our table in his line of sight at the time) and said something about the ribs being delicious. Curiously, there were Daisy May's wet naps on the plate (?). Our server refused to comment on such matters after further inquiry.  Impromptu, fall-off-the-bone BBQ goodness is how I would describe the start of the night at Ssam.

Next, we proceed to have the 'fuku pork buns.  You know how I feel about them.

At this point, I looked at myself in the mirror and realized I cut myself shaving.  Chin = bleeding.

Many other deliciously excellent things followed, but that's for another post.

Ah, right.  The reason for the excursion to Ssam - (not like you need one) - was the Bo Ssam, a.k.a. Ridiculous Berkshire Pork Butt Extravaganza.  I lost sense of time and Mario at this point, as I could only concentrate on the combination of pork butt wrapped in bibb lettuce and dosed with a truly excellent ginger scallion sauce.  A bit of hot sauce sometimes topped these seemingly endless bites of heaven. (Pork Butt photography courtesy of pork aficionado Laren).

I then thought about my preposterous activities upon leaving the restaurant.  I came home and anxiously unwrapped two little gems Laren brought back from Salumi, the pork haven in Seattle.  I recall  thinking that eating a slice of this salumi after the above feast was unwise and possibly even unhuman.  Yet I couldn't turn down the bizarre coincidence of eating leftover ribs from Mario and salumi from Pappa Batali in the same night.  At this point, I wondered whether I'd reached pork dorkiness.  I looked down at my protruding stomach and the multiple gashes on my shaven face and realized that why yes, I am a pork dork.

But after all those highlights, all I can think about is the cardamom-orange salumi I had from Pappa Batali's Salumi.  The intoxicating earthy flavor of the cardamom and the distinct pop of orange zest/rind was unusual, captivating and just insane - I can't get over how much I loved the combination of these flavors.  Truly inspirational.

By this point, I'm done with my shave and despite all this pork dorkiness, I somehow managed to escape with only two chin wounds.  Damn, I better not shave the day after I convince Sandra to finally stay over.  One would consider that a risk to my health, right?

Pancetta Popcorn Arugula Salad

A while back, I had an excellent salad at The Tasting Room.  Baby greens were tossed with popcorn,  pancetta, radishes and a crumbled soft cheese (goat?).  The texture of the popcorn, crisp pancetta and the spicy, peppery radish were an excellent combination.  The salad wasn't perfectly executed in my opinion, as the large, whole radishes and large dollops of cheese could have been more thoughtfully  integrated.  But the idea behind the salad was a great one worth exploring at home.

I've riffed off of these flavor combinations a few times now.  In this version, I took the peppery bite of the radish and replaced it with arugula. The popcorn is very roughly chopped, as the whole kernels seemed a bit too large in a single bite for my tastes.  For the creamy element, I tossed in a crumbly goat cheese that was reminiscent in texture to a ricotta salata.   In fact, I've also used ricotta salata in this dish with nice results.

A standard lemon, EV olive oil dressing would be great for the salad.  On this given night, I gave myself the challenge of featuring booze in every course I made.   I had a Thai chili infused martini at Koca Lounge that I enjoyed, so I pureed chili into vodka in a food processor, brought the mixture to a boil, cooled and strained it, then seasoned with EV olive oil, salt, pepper and a bit of lemon juice.  The spicy notes made the dressing a welcomed addition to the salad, but as you'd expect, the vodka lent little flavor on its own.   But with all of these flavors going on at once, that wasn't such a bad thing.

The Last Glass of Chianti

Sometimes, enjoying the last glass of a bottle without a friend can be inspiring.  Other times, it can just leave you hanging.  Hanging is where I’m left tonight, so I thought I’d put down a few end-of-the-bottle thoughts for you. (My brain:  “What a bad idea for a post...Perfect!”).

1) I’ve spent the past few days missing a (relative) stranger.

2) If I could be a rock star, it would be Ben Gibbard.

3) I need to use an acid other than citrus to balance my dishes.

4) I wish my blog design matched my personality.

5) I have about five blog crushes. Seems a bit lame, no?

6) I wished I lived in Sonoma and bedazzled guests each day by preparing thoughtful lunches and dinners paired with the wines we made at the winery.

7) Pisoni Pinots – what rock have I been living under?

8) I wish I could convince you to buy a juicer.

9) I’ve coined a few terms for my style of cooking and frequently consider renaming this site based on the style, all of which strikes me as arrogant. I cook beyond the classics, but do I need a restaurant to have a cooking style? Why do I even need a cooking style? Isn’t my style a style of its own?

10) I am at my prime mental peak somewhere between the hours of 8 pm - 12 am. I used to be proud of this, but now I wonder if it’s nothing but a character flaw.

11) I think six or so courses, even small plates, is the max I’d ever serve a human being. If I can’t get to you by six courses, I’ve got no game. You shouldn’t need to stumble home and gain a pound in the morning to wow you...right?

12) Bad Dating tip: The moment you think something is there, just make out. That’s not frat boy talk, it’s an office consensus (women included).

13) I currently have an unwrapped, whole leg of Jambon de Bayonne in my fridge without a slicer or occasion to serve it. For reals.

14) I’ve been told by a wine geek that I’m operating at a 5 out of 10 on the wine geek scale. I think that’s harsh, as I consider my palate at about a 7 or 8. She found my wine geek vocab and regional knowledge (old world especially) to be lacking. Clearly she didn't read this post. I gave her the finger and poured her a Malbec from Argentina.

15) Ok, the bottle of '98 Fontodi Chianti Classico is well and truly done.  Neeext.

Porcini Valrhona Crusted Tofu, Edamame Puree

I'm far from a tofu lover.  In fact, I haven't made my way past firm blocks of freshly made tofu from my corner bodega at this stage in my checkered tofu history.  I did enjoy the tofu tasting at EN Japanese Brasserie a while ago - the different textures and the flavors of freshly made tofu were an exciting experience for me.  Otherwise, I tend to eat tofu as a utilitarian need for protein, especially when I'm on a health kick (i.e. the past few weeks).

My approach with tofu is to treat it like meat.  I like to use a big, thick block of firm tofu, coat it in a flavorful crust of spices and flavors, then sear it and roast it in the oven.  Because tofu is pretty bland on its own, I aim for bold flavor combinations for the tofu. 

Even though there isn't much of a flavor profile for tofu, I tend to group it within the 'earthy' category.   In order to bring out the subtle earthinesss of tofu, I pair it with a range of earthy flavors.    Mushrooms, curry, nutmeg, bittersweet cocoa and dried/roasted chilis all tend to make the list. 

On this particular evening, I was serving tofu to a veggie.  Tofu was a part of the routine, so my goal was to make it unique.  I went with a version of my dried mushroom cocoa crust that I outline in my favorite pork recipe.  The cocoa was a Valrhona cocoa powder I found at Whole Foods - it's bittersweet and therefore earthy and rich in flavor.   A dash of ancho chili powder, a bit of curry and salt, a touch of nutmeg and a generous amount of ground, dried porcini were mixed in with the cocoa, creating a huge burst of earthy flavors to bring the tofu to life.

Luckily, I found some beautifully fresh, whole porcini that I sauteed in butter for an added burst of earthy richness.  For a starchy component, I pureed frozen blanched edamame with a bit of coconut milk and lemon juice as a base for the meat.  Ur...tofu.   I guess the dish could have used a bit of sauce, but I went with a flavor drizzle of EV olive oil to keep it somewhere in the realm of healthy.

Goat Cheese, Fennel Juice, Fried Leeks

While thinking of a condiment to accompany a creamy, herbaceous goat cheese, I began envisioning a light, intense vinaigrette of sorts to drizzle around cheese for a burst of complimentary flavors - something to further enhance and accent the natural flavors of the grassy, soft goat cheese.

While staring at the veggies in the market, my gaze focused on fennel.   The fronds, in particular, were of interest to me.  Sure enough, I juiced the fronds and some of the stems that connected the fronds to the bulb.  A bit of salt, pepper, a squeeze of lemon juice and a whisk of extra virgin olive oil produced a fragrant, light dressing that exploded with a mellow fennel flavor.  For texture, I fried some leeks in olive oil to add a crunchy bite of onion flavor to the creamy cheese.

The process of eating this cheese was perfect for an appetizer to share with guests.  Simply slice off a bit of your goat cheese, bath it gently in the fennel juice vinaigrette, and smear it onto a cracker or piece of toasted crostini.  I know that none of the ingredients here are particularly Spring focused, but somehow this dish tasted like a bite of Spring to me.