Recipe: Caesar Salad

I’m going to have Caesar salad with the leftover grilled salmon from the night before:

First are the croûtons that are easy to make and I keep them simple. Take some French bread, stale-ish or not (I’ve done it with fresh), and cut it into cubes, not so huge. The best bread I’ve probably ever found was Semolina. What a bread! Fragrant and fresh from Cangianos ovens–my local Italian shop–and positively succulent! It’s richer then regular Italian and slightly denser. It is the palest yellow, moist on the inside and thickly crunchy on the outside. I like it with sesame seeds. AND it made good croûtons! I just cube some; toss it with some good olive oil, a couple of teaspoons worth for a half a loaf, then onto a cookie sheet. I bake at around 325 or so, and watch them, till they are nice and golden brown. Done! Finally I had found the PERFECT Caesar salad dressing recipe and had been making it for the last month or so. It was just right. I’d found it in the free newspaper, AM New York, that I got everyday outside of Penn station. It was from the “21” Club, and I changed it around a little:

1 tsp garlic, minced
2 egg yolks
3 tbsp Dijon
¼ cup of fresh lemon juice
1 ½ tbsp Worcestershire
1 cup virgin olive oil
2 anchovy fillets, chopped
1 tsp Tabasco
Kosher salt to taste (I always taste before adding salt as the anchovies are salty. And the cheese too)
Fresh ground pepper to taste
1 cup parmesan cheese
2 heads Romaine into 1 inch pieces (I always tear mine and only use one head of lettuce saving the leftover dressing for later.))
1 cup of croutons

Mash the garlic in a wooden blow (I used the bowl I had gotten from my parents when we lived in Micronesia, it was out of palm, worn and beautiful, and I sometimes thought of Chuuk when I used it)Add the egg yolks, the mustard, lemon juice and Worcestershire. Whisk well and slowly add the oil, whisking as you go (It’s easy to see the oil when and when it is not incorporated–it’s not an emulsion if you can see ribbons of oil). Add the anchovies and the Tabasco and season with salt and pepper. Stir in the Parmesan and pour into a cruet. Add a cup of croûtons to the bowl and a cup of the dressing and mix to coat (I had found this an important step as the croûtons got all nice and soaked but still crunchy.) Then add the lettuce, toss and shave some fresh cheese over.It’s delicious and fast to whip up, just the right blend of lemon, garlic, and the rich taste of the anchovies and cheese.

The night before I had grilled two nice fat salmon steaks on my George Foreman Lean Mean Fat Reducing Grilling Machine!! I had won this grill at the annual holiday party I had whooped and hollered when I got it, being slightly, or more, sloshed and proclaimed to all that I had never won anything before (true). Then I got very uncomfortable at the prospect of lugging the thing home, on the train, with my feet in my fabulous reddish high heeled boots that hurt like hell! Plus I had started to flash like mad; the booze did NOT help those! By the end I had some water, fanned myself madly for a bit with a limp napkin then got up and, indeed, lugged the grill and myself home, wincing for the those last 2 blocks from the train on 4th Avenue–wincing and swearing in Greek. But it had been worth it, the grill was really cool and worked fast. The salmon I had gotten from the little Korean fish market right off the train on 4th. It was cheap and the fish fresh. I got the salmon steaks, over a pound, for 6 bucks!

I whisked up the marinade of olive oil, fresh chopped rosemary, lemon juice and garlic and brushed it on the fish, popped in on my prize and grilled for about 5- 6 minutes. It was medium rare and delish-nutrish– topped with some capers of course!

The Family Store

I hit the place once a week at least. It's on third ave between Ovington and 69^th street in Bayridge. I go for the homemade yogurt that is almost as good as the yogurt I've had in Greece. It's rich and fresh. I like to strain mine through cheese cloth until it gets thick and creamy-at least I do when I can find cheesecloth, it doesn't work so hot with paper towels.The first thing to maneuver around in the entrance is Oscar the enormous orange tabby cat who spreads himself on the little ramp leading in and won't move. I have to challenge him with the wheels of my red wired cart; nudge, nudge until his foot moves a half an inch so I can squeeze by.The store is crowded and the aisles cramped around all the wonderful treasures on display. There is a middle island with huge glass jars full of an assortment of regular nuts and grains as well as more exotic offerings. There are tiny dried strawberries, red like blood clots, and spicy candied pecans that are perfect for a green salad. Peeled pistachios, jumbo cashews and Chinese or Spanish pine nuts are there with figs, dried currents and cranberries along with dried peaches, mango and my favorite, dried cantaloupe, the color of orange sherbet. There are shelled pumpkin and squash seeds and even a big jar of roasted corn nuts. Plethora abounds and is displayed in the spice containers behind the counter too. There you have unsweetened shredded coconut, curry powder, turmeric, fenugreek, black caraway seeds and dried herbs with a jar of Frankincense and a jar of dried lemons, blackened and shriveled. There is even dried eggplant; little slices tied up in bundles. Around the edges and on the shelves are cans and jars of all things Middle Eastern and barrels on the floor hold flours, beans, and grains.The glass display in the rear holds the fresh made offerings from the kitchen in the back while a long counter of olive bins sits in front and below where you can scoop up Kalamatas, with or without pits, oil cured black Moroccan olives and Alonso olives from Chile or green, black and brown Lebanese olives. On the right in front of the spice shelves is the register on a wooden counter that also holds treats hot from the kitchen and alluring sweet things. Up on the wall behind the register are family photos-going back 25 years since the place opened with lots of babies on display. My favorite is the one of a ten day old holding his little head up. Honest! When I first started coming to the store a few years ago Sam's mother, Minerva, assured me of the facts: ten days old, her grandson, and his neck was strong enough to lift his wobbling new born head! It floors me every time I see it.The shop is redolent with the scent of all the savory goodies it's crammed with: a salty nutty flavor along with spicy accents and roasted meats taint the air with delicious aromas.The last time I went in I was only going to get some small things-one has the tendency to spend too much there on all the temptations and you should never go on an empty stomach, forget it! I came in and Sam, the son and the one who has taken over running the place, had just finished a standing pork rib roast and set it on the back counter in all it's oozing-with-rich-juices glory. The smell was heaven and I noticed the deep rich brown of the crust that glistened and promised a bite of crispy delight. I was NOT going to get any even though it pulled me to it the whole time I made my other purchases: the yogurt and-I fought a quick battle with myself that was lost before it even started- I got a big wedge of Kanafee: Middle Eastern cheesecake like no cheesecake you've ever tasted. The crust is made from semolina flour and actually encases the entire cake which is very large (the size of a large pizza). It's sweetened with honey and is light and crumbly in the mouth. The filling is a subtle, mellow rich blend of ricotta, cream and homemade curd that is not very sweet but utterly satisfying. Heated a bit and dribbled with honey it takes all my will power not to consume the huge hunk I end up getting in one sitting. Sam's father told me once that the pie won first place for cheesecake in a cooking show at the Javits Center.Sam was clever as usual and insisted that I take a small taste of the pork roast, "just to try". I bought close to a pound after the first bite. Sam does all the specials and this was one of his best out of so many bests. He'd marinated it with cream sherry, garlic, onion and olive oil. I took it home and indulged in it all by itself, on a plate with the deep brown au jus Sam had included dripping off the sides. Each bite was a burst of tender perfect meat, crusty crackling skin and seasonings that enhanced the pork to sweet and savory glory.The family is from a small enclave called Tarsheeha that borders Syria and Lebanon in Palestine. Sam has been cooking since he was five and has run the shop since his parents retired from the business. He is sunny, friendly and knows how to treat and entice his customers. He told me some of his customers eat all their meals from him and swear by the healing power of his food - their doctors are mystified by their good health.Apparently there is a national Crab Cake Eaters Club that tours the country and stopped by The Family Store on the reputation of Sam's Crab Cakes. They voted his the best in the country and after one bite of the things, with his homemade jalapeno tarter sauce, it's no surprise why. They have very little in the way of filler and it only acts to bind up the bounty of fat sweet crab chunks that are sauted to form a very thin, very crispy coating of savory caramelized flavor. The recipe is a secret and is used to make shrimp cakes as well. You will find whole fat shrimp in mouthfuls of these gems. Both go exactly right with his basic tarter sauce made from jals, pickles, capers, mayo, sour cream, lemon and Dijon.The other area of irresistible temptation is on the counter by the register and next to the Kanafee. There is always a silver bowl of freshly made falafel to take home or wrapped up in pita with all the fixings by the kitchen, homemade hot sauce and tahini a must. Then there are the Kibbee Balls: appetizer size fritters of chopped lamb, pine nuts and onions in a shell of cracked wheat, ground lamb and egg. The other kind of Kibbee Balls offered are vegetarian and are a meld of pumpkin, spinach, onion, chick peas and walnuts. Then there are little meat and cheese pies, and Aj-eh; flat egg fritters of zucchini, onion, parsley and mint.Going in each week for my yogurt is all I can afford because I never come out with anything less then a bit of everything! I spend the rest of the week indulging until it's time for more yogurt and then the battle begins anew. The one in which I'm always happy to be the vanquished: to the loser the spoils!
THE FAMILY STORE: 6905 Third Ave., Brooklyn, NY
(718) 748-0207

Lunch at Areo

Despite the heat from the blazing streets and scarce shade I walked the 12 or so blocks to Areo on the corner of 85th st. and Third Avenue in Bayridge. I had decided that today was the day for Black Pasta with Sausage and Calamari.Once inside the airy cool restaurant that has two large, high-ceilinged rooms and a huge granite topped wooden bar that takes up a third of the front room, I was presented with a glass of ice water that the best of waiters seemed to almost have ready for me as I came in glowing with heat from the street. That's Mo for you; the waiter with perfect timing and a gracious, knowledgeable demeanor. Just like that I had a plate of Zucchini Sticks, thin lightly coated and fried to goldenness, two small pieces of Bruschetta and a small dish with paper thin Salami, assorted olives, a small mound of Ricotta seasoned with a little lemon and pepper, and a couple of small hard wedges of Provolone.I ordered the Black Linguini with Calamari and Sausage, then sat back to nibble, sip and anticipate its arrival. The Bruschetta had the usual ripe red and juicy tomatoes to form the sweet background for lots of garlic, a little bit of onion, and Italian Parsley. Bits of chopped olives added just the right touch to the traditional ingredients while the grilled bread it all sat on got slowly saturated and softened with each bite. I covered the Zucchini Sticks with lots of fresh lemon and picked up two or three at a time, tilted my head back and dropped them hot, mellow and crispy into my mouth. I spread a bit of the Ricotta on bread from the basket, topped it with Salami, a slice of Provolone and enjoyed the mix of textures and flavors; from the creamy bland Ricotta to the sharp Provolone to the salty bite of Salami.Areo has been going strong and delicious for seventeen years. I consider it the best Italian restaurant in NYC. It might be way out here in Bayridge but it has welcomed the likes of Hillary, Mick, Patti La Belle, LL Cool Jay, and Fat Joe. A few members of the cast of the Sopranos make it in regularly, while there is a decided and titillating sense of the real Goombas who also frequent the place.Roger and his cousin Reno own the restaurant, as well as Donald Sachs in the Winter Garden and Saracen in the Hamptons. Like all good eateries, you can judge part of its success by the length of time the staff has worked there. This is very true at Areo where the all male staff, the bartenders, the chef and busboys, are seasoned hands - the pasta chef preparing my Linguini had been working for the family for 20 years - and they add a significant ingredient to the smooth, pleasurable experience of the place.The best time to go for me is a Friday or Saturday night where I always sit at the bar so I can hang out with Rosie-the only female there and an absolute stitch. She is the small, long-curly-haired pistol-of-a-bartender behind the immense bar and orders all the men around to her whim. They love her sassy ways and her skill. Her Espresso Martinis go down sweet and smooth. The combination of Espresso, vanilla vodka, and Crème de Cacao ice cold and straight up is a coffee lover's dream that mellows you out and perks you up at the same time. Her Mojitos are also sublime but as any bartender will verify, a real pain in the ass to make. All that mint muddling you know...the crowd gets thick with various shades of Brooklynites; lawyers, detectives, rich kids from the gorgeous homes on Shore Road, Russian, Italian, Jewish and Greek families that converse in their own languages or with strong Brooklyn accents: "Nyet, Nyet, whaddya tawkin about!" Lots of parties take place from bachelorettes to graduations and kids are tolerated to roam around and visit. I have more fun just sitting there watching it all unfold while Rose waxes hilarious and everything hums with that unique restaurant rhythm danced out by the graceful waiters swinging by laden with all the delicious offerings.My pasta arrived and for a moment I just looked at it. The black strands of Linguine steamed fragrantly in the deep red of the sauce that was chunky with savory pieces of Italian sausage. White rings of Calamari contrasted in stark white against the dark richness. I took a deep breath over the bowl and inhaled a scent that reminded me of a fresh morning tide pool where the black curly seaweed that clings to the rocks and mussels glistens with seawater and smells of the ocean. Accompanying this note was the rest of the orchestra of aromas; garlic, sausage, Marinara, and the Parmesan and pepper I had the busboy liberally grind over the top.It was too hot and I waited in mouthwatering impatience to take my fist bite. When I could stand it no longer I wrapped the ebony strings around my fork, soaked it in sauce, speared a ring of squid and bit down to dusky rich heaven. The pasta had a brilliant dark bite from the depths that bound the tender mild Calamari and the spicy tomato and sausage in a background of succulent richness. Like a fine steak, almost earthy and just as robust.Black Linguine is made from the ink of squids that is squeezed out and used instead of water to form the dough. They use only the best imported product at Areo and Mo tells me they make it many different ways on request but the dish I was enjoying is the one on the menu and this was the first time I tried it. It surpassed my every expectation and certainly I've been spoiled for any other pasta dish for awhile. I sat for a good while and indulged in this new found treat almost moaning at times with pleasure.
The more I savored it the more savory it got and I couldn't satiate my taste buds or stop the yen for all that tomato red, spicy sausage, mellow sweet Calamari flavor cuddling around the ink black strands; dark, delicious and swimming in their own small sea of complimentary textures and taste. I ate every last string and when the busboy came to clear off the rest of the dish that I was just to full to honor by finishing I couldn't bear to even let that bit go so I had him wrap it up.I headed home by way of a car service too satisfied and stuffed to suffer the hot walk home and had a nice long nap, where I dreamed of a bright sea and the succulent tender tastes from her dark depths.

AREO: 8424 Third Ave., Brooklyn, NY
(718) 238-0079

Happy Blog Birth or I Wanna be a Wet Nurse!

As I birth my blog today, this newborn baby blog, and send it out to the world I thought it would be cunning to speak of the most basic of all victuals: Breast Milk!
It was my sister who expressed the desire to become a wet nurse as the ideal job. Her primary objective was to maintain her cleavage- The landscape of my sisters chest is home to a pair of very small protuberates. Not mounds, not hills and never mountains! Not much of an incline at all really, so when she became pregnant and exploded into an A cup she was thrilled and delighted. This size was not hers to keep though and so the idea of mammary maintenance via wet nursing was pondered there for a while....
Both of us, and my sister-in-law, were world class nursers and would often expound on the nature of this essential, nurturing act. We breast fed our babies for 20 months or so and would have kept it up a while longer if the children had not all weaned them selves-even as we hopefully offered a tit here and there. After 2 years though it's time to call it quits! The sight of a large three year old imbibing at his mothers chest, while standing, is off putting to say the least.
Breast milk, while starting out as a thin watery insipid brew, will with time transform into a thick creamy intoxicating baby feast. I swear my son would get drunk on it. At 14 months and plenty of time for a let down of refined and rich sustenance to form, he'd suck away until his little jaw would slowly stop working then he'd just lull there in a stupor with his mouth full of boob. Finally he'd let it loose with a slight sucking pop and lay there in my arms, eyes glazed, for all the world like a drunken lord and grin up at me in blurry love.
It's not a simple thing nursing or is it something that comes naturally for all of us. I never went to any birthing classes but I read a fair amount and never ran across any accounts of the difficulties for many new mothers. My son would not take the tit for three months and if it wasn't for the nurse in the hospital where he was born he might never have been breast fed: "Child you take this here rubber thing and stick it onto your nipple there so that sweet boy can get his mommies blessing! He gonna get the idea down the line, don you be worryin 'bout that!" So I kept it up and one day that I'll never forget he latched on like a pro and I threw that rubber nipple extender away with relief.
My daughter was as different as it can get: A few hours old and she suckled away like the only wee wrinkled piglet. The other anticipation I had of her being the same as her brother was one I hoped for but, again, it was not the same at all: When my son would nurse he would look up at me and raise up his little hand to gently stroke and pat my chest. He'd look at me with contentment and bliss while he touched my chin with his warm soft fingers. I looked forward with pleasure to the time when she was as old as my son had been with his sweet demonstratives. Well she looked up at me alright but with a devilish gleam in her green eyes and, while giving me a cheesy grin around my nipple in her mouth, she would raise her little fist and give me a quick sock! She was highly amused by this and for awhile there I had a line of small bruises running along my bosom.
As for the well documented benefits of breast milk over formula all I can say is my children had very few baby maladies, they never sucked their thumbs and never felt the need for pacifiers or bottles.
Of course, some where along the way, you taste it. It's sweet but warm and I wouldn't want to have a glass of it with my chocolate cake. It's pretty obvious though, babies know a good thing when they slurp it.