Epifurious

Make This Now: Tres Leches Cake

Or Dreimilchkuchen, as we've taken to calling it for no real reason.  I made this for Idahomie's belated birthday last night.  It was a struggle to wade through all the recipes on the internets -- each one I read had something wrong with it -- a too sweet sounding cake recipe in some, no booze in others, and a bizarre and WAY-too-much-for-a-weeknight combination of homemade and canned condensed milk in the recipe from the generally trustworthy Mary Sue Milliken and Susan Feniger.  But, luckily, something in the tone of the prose of Regan Burns' recipe on Chowhound assured me it was going to be delicious.  It was.  Also, it is probably the easiest dessert I've ever made.  The cake has 3 ingredients, and other than that you just pour some liquid over it, refrigerate, and whip some cream.  Couldn't be easier.  3 changes I made -- no coconut on top (I just wanted it to be soft and rich), mangoes on the side, A LOT more rum in the milk mixture -- maybe 5 times as much.  I'd just keep adding to your personal taste -- we're pretty boozy around here.

Embarassing and Controversial Admission

IFC and I both kind of love the Starbucks seasonal "Gazebo Blend".  We
ran out of coffee yesterday and bought a bag of it across the street
from our office.  We've done this before.  We admitted to each other
that we found it very delicious this morning.  It felt freeing to just
come out and be honest with each other.  I just absconded with it so as
to have "Gazebo Blend" over the weekend.  Sorry!

UPDATE:
I forgot to mention in this post that IFC described "Gazebo Blend"'s flavor profile as "winy" (or "winey"?).  I'm just saying.  Also, I already have some a'brewing for tomorrow morning using Leland's method.  I'll report back.

Chance Meating

This weekend, Idahomie and I had a sudden lunch hankering for Italian food.  Even though the griddle was still warm from french toast, it was a strong, almost urgent need. 

After extensive web research (well, actually, just typing "queens italian" in chowhound), it seemed the consensus was that Trattoria L'Incognito is the best Italian in Queens, and the tricked-out website, which played Andrea Bocelli and had slideshows of the interior, showcased a tasty-looking menu.  Despite terrifying, apocalyptic rain, lightning, and thunder, we ventured out to make the long trek to Astoria.

Don Delicious

    I've always been grossed out by grocery store meat, shrink-wrapped in those weird styrofoam trays, the meat resting on a blood-soaked absorbent pad.  There was something seeping and unknowable about the whole affair, cuts only distinguishable by the label.  Where did the meat come from?  Was it still fresh?  Was this cut fatty or lean?  Why is this one marked way down?  And once the meat was home, that weird tray with its weird absorbent pad had the unmistakable taint of contagion, a vector of food poisoning to be perched on the edge of the sink, handled gingerly and tossed into a biohazard bag.  Eww!

At some point, for reasons both aesthetic and environmental, I decided to forego store-bought meats.  If I couldn't bring myself to go to the butcher and get meat, I didn't deserve to eat it.  My neighborhood has an abundance of halal butchers, whose chicken and goat are supremely delicious.  There is one surly butcher in particular of which I'm fond, on 73rd Street, just off 37th Ave.  I think it is called New Halal Meats, or something like that.  It's next to the Dosa Diner.  They have amazingly flavorful chicken, and gamey, luxuriant goat.  The place smells like death, and there is more often than not someone sawing goat heads into pieces.  I appreciate its brutality.  But when it comes to beef, there is but one place.  Don Francisco, a little butcher and Argentinian grocer, on the corner of 85th Street and 37th Avenue.

Pesach, Easter, Whatever -- Hooray for the Secular Enjoyment of Traditional Foods

 

IFC and I took a trip to Russ and Daughters this weekend to acquire some of the chosen foods before the "passover rush".  OK, so this is a pretty boring post, but R & D is just as good as everyone says.  The smoked fishes glisten in the case, the salads are fresh and delicious, it's hard to decide which of the sweets to pick, and the service is a heady mix of brusque and helpful.  Their coffee is some of the best I've had in New York, rich but not too strong -- perfect with a smoked salmon bagel.  It makes me want to move to the LES so I can have it for breakfast every day.  Also, they have the most beautiful logo ever -- check out that elegant fish design!   And, this dude owns it:

And how exciting is he!?!

Here are the things that we bought for a very very late brunch -- it's a good menu for any brunch where you just don't feel like cooking.  We were taking food to our friend Samantha Smith, her mother, and her new baby (though he's on a liquid diet right now), and it's obviously easily transported.  IFC has discouraged this posting, worrying that if everyone buys these items, there will be none left for him, but it was so delicious that I'm going to take the risk. 

• mini bagels -- these are basically the size of regular bagels, or the size bagels used to be before bagel size inflation.  They're standard and delicious and hand-rolled. 
• scallion cream cheese -- again, standard.  Gold-standard.
• smoked sable -- This is what made IFC really start acting like a greedy, food-obsessed maniac.  He couldn't stop eating and talking about it and how good it was, and he was totally justified.  The sable is just so buttery and light and delicious here.  They cut it in rather thick slices, which I didn't expect to like, but the fish is so mild and buttery, that a thicker slice really highlights it's sashimi-style softness.  I worry that I'm ruined and will never enjoy smoked salmon or lox ever again.  Also, perfunctory internet research revealed that a) it's the same fish as delicious black cod (bonus -- a recipe for Isabella's favorite dish) and b) it's low in PCBs, dioxins, and mercury, for those who care and c) it's mega-ugly, so you can feel good about eating lots of it, ensuring that it doesn't take over.
• stuffed trout -- this was my favorite dish of the spread.  They basically take a smoked trout, empty out all the meat, mix it together into the sort of mousse that would normally be made of whitefish (but is much more delicious here, with the substitution of the trout), and then stuff it back into the skin of the whole trout for an exciting presentation.
• old-fashioned gefilte fish -- OK so this is the one loser.  The yuckiness of gefilte fish is a pretty boring and obvious joke, but really!  Samantha's cats wouldn't eat it. 
• chopped liver -- This is just great.  It's very thick and schmaltzy -- 1/4 of a lb. looked like a paltry amount, and I regretted not ordering more when it first came across the counter, but it's so rich that it went a long way.  I'll never understand where the analogy between unappetizing people and this delicious food comes from.  "What am I, gefilte fish?" makes a lot more sense.
• german potato salad -- a nice bland accompaniment.  I found it to be quite nice mixed with some of the trout salad towards the end of the meal.
• roumanian eggplant salad -- not as good as the ludicrously simple and delicious heirloom recipe passed down from the Smith family (char eggplants on gas burner, remove blackened skin, chop finely with WOODEN ROMANIAN EGGPLANT AX or the rim of a glass, mix with olive oil, salt, pepper) but still pretty good.
• assorted chocolates -- These were a happy surprise -- I had no idea that their chocolate counter is as good as it is.  We got some sort of gold brushed hearts with a cinnamon caramel center, some glacéed apricots dipped in dark chocolate, some coconut things (can't describe how good or what they were), and some pistachio marzipan.  There is a nice way in which these candies taste homemade but not "artisinal".  There are definitely some "natural extracts" going on in these candies, but in an incredibly nice way.  For example, the cinnamon caramel in the center of the hearts definitely tasted of cinnamon extract, not of cinnamon itself, which was somehow incredibly exciting and intense.   
• Israeli Shmura Matzoh -- Psych!!  We didn't buy this -- it's $17.95 per box!  At that price, this matzoh better have been unleavened by G-d himself.  IFC was very tempted, after all, at $20/box, something has got to be very special about this matzoh, but he held out.  I mean really, that's 2/3 of a lb. of sable!

And for all you goyim out there like myself, never fear.  Although Easter is a little bit "gefilte fish" when it comes to food holidays, (spiral-cut ham, waxy chocolate, and cold boiled eggs -- ew.) how crazy cute are these chocolate quail eggs?  Oh snaps, they were so cute somebody bought all of them.  Better luck next year!

From The Annals Of Why Aren't We Making This Every Day

Mishima is not a great restaurant by any means, but it's yummy and it's cheap and it's solid and I always had terrific lunches there when I worked in West Hollywood.  After a holiday full of meat and bread and bloody marys, I found myself fantasizing about their chirashi, and craving something like it for dinner.  It was very  plain -- just a little plastic dish (don't let the picture fool you; one almost never eats in at Mishima) with about an inch of rice covered with stripes of chopped egg, sauteed shitakes, pickled ginger, shredded cucumbers, and julienned seaweed.  That's it.  No fish.  Not much flavoring.  Just a little pile of nice, mild, goodness.  It used to be only $3.00.  I wanted something like it, but maybe just a little bit tastier and more substantial...

Pio Pio: Better Than The Other Food

When I started cooking for myself, I threw away my takeout menus.  It was a largely symbolic act, but it seemed of import: I had cut the apron-strings, as it were.  No longer was I subject to the fussy delivery schedule of Indian Taj!  No more over-ordering to make the minimum order from Cafe La Nueva, even though I only wanted two empanadas!

Well, almost.  I kept one.  Pio Pio is a Peruvian pollo a la brasa restaurant of such exceeding amazingness that I couldn't bear to even throw away the menu, let alone imagine a future without perfectly prepared roast chicken, french fries, red beans, rice, tostones.  It seemed a bleak, colorless existence.  So it remains, sitting on top of my fridge with the bus schedule and the pot holders.

Let me explain.

Fossils, or Easy Holiday Excitement

Ulrike deserves all of the credit for this one. She found this recipe a few months ago. We made it and loved it, and then forgot about it until last weekend, when we found ourselves going to a holiday party at the Good American Wife's apartment. Deceptively complicated looking, these "fossils" taste awesome, but have only three ingredients and take about four seconds to prepare:

All you need is some saran wrap, some fennel fronds (or are they leaves? either way, those feathery parts at the top of the fennel), pink peppercorns, and some white chocolate (4 oz. will make a huge number of fossils).

Melt the white chocolate in the microwave, or in a double boiler. If using a double boiler, make sure that the water is simmering, and not boiling like mad, because white chocolate burns easily. Once the chocolate has melted, put it aside for a moment.

Then take a sheet of saran wrap, and rest it on top of a cookie sheet, or other flat surface. Arrange approximately twelve 2 to 3 in. long pieces (larger or smaller would also be fine) of fennel frond on the saran wrap, making sure to leave space between them. Now crush a few pink peppercorns with your fingers in and around each frond. The picture above should give you an idea of about how much pepper to use.

Next, spoon a hershey kiss-sized blob of melted chocolate onto each frond. (You could also be fancy and use a pastry bag.) Lay another sheet of saran wrap over the top of the mixture. Press the chocolate down until it has smooshed out, and it looks like a fossil. Refrigerate to harden. Repeat.

There's lots of room for experimentation with this recipe. Leland came up with the idea of using fresh thyme with Maldon sea salt, which was amazing. Curry powder is also quite nice. Really, if it's in your spice rack, it seems worth trying. The intense sweetness of the white chocolate (which is why I usually won't eat it) seems to go well with any number of spicy and savory flavors. We especially liked the fennel with the pink peppercorns because they looked so holiday-appropriate (like tiny Christmas trees!).

Macaroni and Cheese Deliciousness

So, I know this recipe was on the most emailed list for like two months last winter. But I think it's worth revisiting. For those of you who hate white sauces (Ulrike), but love macaroni and cheese, this is a dairy-laden, flour-free treat. At heart, I'm a macaroni and cheese purist. Breadcrumbs are fine, and I certainly wouldn't turn up my nose at the addition of some ham, but I'm really only interested in the cheese and the pasta. This recipe suits me perfectly, because it has almost nothing more than that. It is, however, extremely rich (making it with gruyere instead of cheddar didn't help). I've made it four or five times now, and each time, I love love love it, and immediately remember why I only make it every three months. I would die of cheese-poisoning if I attempted it any more often. The cheese to pasta ratio (2 to 1) should be something of a hint.

Here it is, looking all browned and tasty, in my newly acquired Copco baking dish:

Vanilla, So Cheap It's Almost Free

I love vanilla beans. They smell delicious, they're excitingly sticky, and they make everything they touch taste awesome. But at $5-$7 a bean, it's hard to justify serious vanilla acquisitions. I buy one every once in a while, if I'm making creme brulee, or something else that would really suffer for the lack of fresh vanilla. In general, though, I hold back.

As of two days ago, that has all changed. Forever. I was reading Chocolate & Zucchini, and learned that you can get twenty vanilla beans for twenty euros here. And that includes shipping! Shipping to anywhere in the world! It took me about twelve seconds to absorb what I had just read, find my credit card, and order the beans. I felt deliriously happy! I've never seen vanilla that cheap. I will make creme brulee! And vanilla sugar! And possibly this thing with figs!

The only difficulty is that the site is in French. (The beans come from Mayotte, a French-held island in the Mozambique channel.) Apparently they answer email inquiries in English, but I was able to navigate the site with my rudimentary-at-best grasp of French. If you click on the "20 gousses à 20 €" button at the bottom of the page, the rest should be fairly clear. Go forth and order vanilla! And report back if you come up with any brilliant ideas about what to do with it!