p & h sodas: the incredible, indelible egg cream

i enjoyed my first ever egg cream on saturday at the valentine’s gift shop and soda fountain, courtesy of anton and p & h soda co.

i owe a debt (a drink?) to patrick and tyler of the bent spoon who noticed how disarrayed i was by all the tempting choices and patiently talked me through the merits of the different egg creams and shakes.  i came close to a rendezvous with an orange egg shake (it’s like a creamsicle, they said. and i’m guessing it would far exceed my childhood memory. hard to resist). but in the end, i went with the toasted almond, with candy cap mushroom egg cream. the chance of finding that flavor on a menu elsewhere seemed slim.

despite their talking me through it, i was having trouble picturing the egg cream. my mind saw a fizzy shake, made with toasted almond ice cream, with bits of chocolate “mushroom” candies–something like the guylian chocolate sea shells –floating about.

but what anton created was lighter and more subtle than i’d imagined it would be. the soda cut the richness of the milk, and the flavors seemed to come in waves:  first, a bit of nuttiness, then sweetness, but then a bass line that i couldn’t quite get.

until anton reminded me: mushroom.

right: candy cap mushrooms aren’t candy, after all.

i marveled at the inventiveness of the drink. anton revealed that the idea of incorporating the mushroom was inspired by a dessert he enjoyed during a recent trip to california. his technique: steam the mushrooms with the milk so it picks up just a hint of their natural sweetness and earthiness. he amplifies the flavors with the toasted almond syrup.

i’m not actually sure how much i love egg creams–i’d like to try a good chocolate one–but i was fascinated and impressed by the exotic one that was my first.

p & h sodas and syrups are handcrafted in in brooklyn. if you visit their blog, you’ll see the list of retail shops where bottled syrups and sodas can be purchased and restaurants who serve them. bottled sodas can also be ordered online.

not candy caps–just pretty candies….

lovin spoonfuls: the valentine’s gift shop and…the bent spoon

it was a miscalculation to visit the valentine’s gift shop & soda fountain early in the day (and on a relatively full stomach). but this is new york — when it comes to any worthwhile event, unless you’re endowed with or pay for VIP access, you’ve got to get in on the action early. maybe this is true for metro dwellers, worldwide? anyway, this seems especially true for food events. there’s pushing and waiting and waiting and waiting and, worst of all, the “sorry, we’re all out of that” retort. even when they break the news nicely, it’s a bummer.

i wasn’t familiar with the event or the space itself, so it seemed best to get there shortly after the 11am open.

the venue was small, with room enough for 13 or so vendors and their wares. there were a few countertops where you could set down a coffee and a snack. but it was tight quarters, especially with everyone so puffed up and swaddled in winter layers. so, “early” was smart. but i should have skipped the morning bagel (and probably the aloo paratha and samosas the night before). i would have liked to load up on the savories and sweets from pie corps. i deeply regret missing their smores pie. i’ll have to hope they return to the seaport when the new amsterdam market is in full swing this summer, or otherwise stalk them in bk.

i did have a little room for a few other treats–one can always make room for a few tastes of artisan ice cream, no? and perhaps a fresh egg cream?

so, this will be the first of a few posts to celebrate what i sampled at the valentine’s gift shop and soda fountain — and am happy to highly recommend, starting with:

meet patrick and tyler, who were there representing the bent spoon.

they didn’t really need to twist my arm to sample their artisan ice creams–”ri-cuddle me” ricotta ice cream? (yes!) oh, it was beautifully balanced: a delicate cheese and cream blend (jersey dairy, all the way) and with a surprise of bright citrus notes.

the “strawberry mascarpone”: a thicker, heavier weight, if memory serves. i’ve had ice creams, commercial and homemade, that strive for a cheesecake flavor. but i didn’t realize how imperfect the others were, until i tried the bent spoon’s version.

the “i’m-slightly-bitter chocolate” : apropos to the valentine’s holiday? pshaw! this gently chocolately, creamy goodness could make even the most lovelorn and the deepest cynics feel a little “warmer” on the inside…

how cute are the cones?

but i opted for a few take home pints, the better to share lovin’ spoonfuls:

figs! if you love them (as i do) tyler says this will blow us away…

(you knew there was more ri-cuddling to be done…)

this one sounds exotic, no? patrick said that this is best, drizzled with a little olive oil and a sprinkle of sea salt. in fact, he said, that if i wasn’t going to try it that way, then i probably shouldn’t bother…

i believe that was a throwdown.

i accepted.

i am looking forward to sharing these soon. and will definitely report back…

i love the small touches they add to these pints–who says penmanship is a lost art?

the folks at bent spoon work closely with local dairies and farms in nj for all their ice creams and desserts. if you live in or will be near the princeton area, you should treat yourself with a few scoops (or pints).

***

the bent spoon is at

35 palmer square w
princeton, nj 08542

(and hopefully this summer, they’ll be back at the new amsterdam market? to stay in-the-know, follow them on twitter /fb)

kitchen adventure: daniel holzman’s sloppy lamb

the cannibal's "sloppy lamb"

when the new york weather was cool, but mild enough to enjoy lunch outside (not this recent glorious tuesday. i mean, back in october) allison and i convened at mad square eats where we met casey, of  the cannibal. he prepared for us a memorably delicious and hearty sloppy lamb sandwich.

casey!

how cute is he, in his "stackhouse" jersey?

the sloppy stuff and i go way back.

in elementary school, one of my classmates –let’s call her miss b– would bring manwiches for lunch.

i want to say she had them every day –that’s what it seemed like to me, anyway. but surely any and every time she sat across from me it was the most terrible torture. not that her actual sandwich inspired envy — a modest amount of manwich, spread between two slices of untoasted white bread (never a bun, so that the sauce would soak through. the whole thing transformed into a mottled orange mess as she cuddled it.) she ate with a creepy, finger-licking gusto– the scene was an appetite suppressant, really. but i could separate the experience of watching her with my understanding of the thing itself: a saucy ground meat fest. i wanted my own.

a short time later, i started cooking on my own, using the “i can cookbook” by sophie kay (which i still have). sloppy joes (or, in ms. kay’s volume “the texas dean”) were what i made best and most often. i overstuffed mine (that is, when i bothered to eat it properly, with bread).

i hadn’t made a single one since…the 80s? but casey and the cannibal’s “grown-up” lamb version got me thinking…

i found a recipe online. this source has meat-cred: daniel holzman, of the the meatball shop .

here’s how it turned out:

I ate it (with gusto) every day for a week.

hope you’ll try it and like it, too:

Lamb Sloppy Joes

Recipe by Daniel Holzman, chef of The Meatball Shop via men’s health

What You’ll Need:
1 1/2 pounds ground lamb shoulder
2 Tbsp olive oil
1 onion, finely chopped
3 bell peppers (green, yellow, and red), seeded and finely chopped
1 Tbsp paprika
6 garlic cloves, minced
2 tsp ground cumin
pinch of cayenne
3 Tbsp tomato paste
2 cups canned crushed tomatoes
3/4 cup white wine
2 Tbsp cider vinegar
1 Tbsp salt
1 Tbsp brown sugar
8 brioche or kaiser buns, toasted
How to Make It:
1. In a large pot, sauté the lamb in the olive oil over high heat, stirring frequently until browned and beginning to crisp, about 12 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, remove the lamb from the pan and reserve , being careful to leave any oil and rendered fat in the pot.
2. Lower the heat to medium, add the vegetables and spices to the pan and continue to cook, stirring frequently until soft, about 10 minutes.
3. Add tomato paste and cook, stirring constantly, for 3 minutes. Add tomatoes, wine, vinegar, sugar, 1/2 cup water, salt, and reserved lamb. Bring the stew to a simmer, reduce the heat to low, and cook until thickened, about 30 minutes. Serve on buns.

***

ps. i chose to make this without the red, green, and yellow peppers — i made a side salad with good greens instead.

***

photos © anita aguilar

still life: cookie

chocolate chip sandwich cookie @ ‘wichcraft, nyc

***

photo © anita aguilar

hundred acres

of the countless reasons to adore brunch at hundred acres, here are a few:

a bouquet, at a clean well-tended bar

a bloody mary, with bite

simple charm

crisp, de-”light”-ful ricotta fritters

goat cheese bread pudding.

savory bread puddings seem to have eluded me to this point, but now there’s no turning back.

the goat cheese seems perfect here:  it allows the “custard” to keep its lightness, but its flavor is assured.

***

photos © anita aguilar

greetings from wonder city/the brindle room

i like lunching at the brindle room. i like it so much that after my first visit with my cousins, during that sleepy week between christmas and the start of the new year, i made a date for the very next day. special times.

i can report a few things: that the green salad with shaved beets (with stilton and lemon vinaigrette) was more vibrant and zesty than the roasted beets (too soft from overcooking, too wet with vinaigrette). that the marinated steak, had wonderful flavors but the cuts on my sandwich were too big and too gristly to digest (forcing an inelegant, but sly “napkin trick.” hopefully i pulled it off?). the three-herb chicken was tender–though even better reheated later in the evening (the servings are generous there).

the only thing “wrong” with the chicken, is that it’s not…a burger. the brindle serves a mean burger. buttery meat, melted cheese and caramelized onions. if you have any inclination toward beef, you must order it.

another must-have, if they are available at the time of your visit: the donuts.

a double comfort food, they are made with mashed potatoes…the cake is crisp on the outside, soft and sweet inside. are “donuts are the new cupcake”? i don’t know. one thing is sure: these will endure, beyond any trend.

***

the brindle has given me a new winter obsession: mulled wine.

why do my winter nights not have more of this stuff?

the donuts (they’re like a dream)

chocolate-hazelnut w/ almonds donut

powdered sugar donut

caramel donut

***
the brindle room is at 277 east 10th street, between first and avenue a.

wonder city — their breakfast “alter ego” opens mon-friday at 9am; sat & sun at 11am.

reservations through their site /open table.

(let’s meet for dinner…)

***

all photos © anita aguilar

peachy keen: dinner at má pêche

the seal’s been broken: i’ve had my first momofuku restaurant group meal.

(wait, does momofuku milk bar count? i love the cookies long time.)

ok, then: i’ve had my first dinner, at the midtown má pêche. it was an ideal circumstance: a big family who likes to share– and treat. (thank you, family)

our waitress forgot to bring us the crispy pig’s head but believe it or not we were so taken with the brussels sprouts (a game-changer) and the broccoli salad that we didn’t notice until the whole meal was done and dusted. everyone was pleased and impressed by the dishes, with all the funky flourishes (especially the seaweed), except for one of the desserts (we’d have done better to stop by the milk bar upstairs).

here are some photos and a few notes:

calamansi juice

johnny’s margarita: tequila blanco, lime, agave, absinthe. delicious, but is this why i woke up every 2 hours and had 8 crazy dreams?

broccoli salad (satur farms, ny) – smoked raisin, mayo, seaweed. call it the missionary salad: this will convert the greens-and-broccoli-non-believers.

lamb corn dog

piedmontese sirloin (fossil farms, mt) –  with eggs.

brussels sprouts

lamb (niman ranch) – cauliflower, plum, curry

steak frites (creekstone farm, ks) – 12 oz ‘juliet’ cut, rice fries. the table was split over the rice fries. but i thought they were wonderful. now that i’ve had them, i can’t believe i haven’t had them before. it’s really the same idea as cassava fries (only much lighter) or a rice ball, without the rich cheese to bind it.

pork chop (bev eggleston, va) – apple-choucroute, potato, ramp

striped bass (montauk, ny) – mushrooms, miso, bone marrow

done…

and done.

until:

chocolate ganache

and a sadly overripe, over-roasted banana. (perhaps the only unlucky turn of the evening.)

lowcountry: fried chicken and football and…

there’s only one thing that makes me anxious about having a family visitor: a last-minute request for a group dinner recommendation and reservation. (we roll deep.)

my cousin jenny planned to be in town to support a couple of her friends that were running the marathon. she had most of her weekend set but there was one dinner –for her last night here, her “farewell for now” dinner–that she wanted help to arrange. i wasn’t sure what we’d find available, for 6, esp  during marathon weekend. but i stayed optimistic and went directly into “party-planning mode.”  i asked if there was anything i needed to know about her friends or keep in mind when considering venues (veganism, foodie-inclinations, borough/neighborhood preferences).

she said at least one of her friends would want to watch the football game. but she wanted to have an nice meal. is there a way to marry the two? does such a place exist in ny?

and then everything got real easy: lowcountry. i sent her the menu and told her about “fried chicken and football night”; it made her heart “skip a beat.

my “work” was done. the heart skipping a beat was a lot to live up to,  but i’d been there before –if you’re interested, here are my first impressions–and i was confident that lowcountry could deliver.

***

here are photos and notes from a nice meal earlier this week (“weak 9,” from an nfl perspective)  :

bacon deviled eggs

( i have only one friend who will dispute that “bacon makes everything thing better.” she can’t even stand the smell of it. but that’s a story for another time.)  these deviled eggs manage to be at once fluffy and hefty. (“black magic” at work?)

bourbon chicken liver mousse

my sister and i made this choice. we’re fiends for liver. i followed her lead on that–it took a while for my taste buds to evolve. she even professes to have loved the liverwurst on white bread sandwiches that my mom occasionally snuck into our brown lunch bags. i won’t go that far. but i do enjoy a well rendered chicken liver dish.

the thing about mousse is that it’s cold — we forgot that.  cold liver spread? it doesn’t quite sing. also the distinctive iron-minerally taste of chicken liver is fully present here. it took us a few carefully considered bites before we both decided we liked this dish. not everyone at the table was so charmed.

fried pickles, with green goddess dipping sauce

these were quite perfect.

fried green tomatoes, with cajun remoulade. a side of fennel, radish, poblano salad

more fried perfection. (although, the majority thought these were too salty, the minority  (including me) thought they were just good and tasty. i would have wanted another plate for the minority to hoard.

bourbon bbq pork chop, with sweet potato purée, roasted fingerling potatoes and squash, and brussels sprouts.

having decimated a plate of sticky ribs the night before, i’d considered going meat-free for the rest of the week (or at least a couple of days). but when it came time to order, i couldn’t resist bourbon bbq pork chop  with brussels sprouts. (the heart knows...) this is a generous plate. i ate both chops without regret. you will too.

and, the fried chicken biscuit:  fried chicken breast, cheddar biscuit, country sausage gravy, and onion jam…

i think this was good? my sister, initially wary of “breast”  in the description, happily reported that this was very good and juicy. she offered everyone else at the table a taste, but because i wanted her to have a little more for herself (and i had two serious chops of my own) i only sampled the biscuit. (delicious.) this also gives me an excuse to go back and order the dish for myself.

i should note that the hangar steak was received with considerably less enthusiasm than the the other dishes. it was judged merely “ok”; perhaps keep that in mind when you visit.

as to the sweet stuff, my cousin won the round with the fresh homemade beignets and ice cream. I lost badly with the mint chocolate chip pudding. i like a sprinkle of salt with chocolate for lift and contrast. Here it was heavy-handed, leaving me to wish they’d left the salt out altogether. but a bite or two of the beignet and ice cream set everything right again.

jason, with a grand finish

***

low country is at 142 W 10th St, New York, NY 10014
(212) 255-2330

reservations via opentable.com

return trip: elsewhere

it might not be in my neighborhood, but elsewhere is starting to feel like home…if only i, in my home kitchen, were so deft with greens and herbs and so fearless with cheese and butter. (and: know that if i could, i would make you a pig’s ass sandwich for dinner).

did i say “home” and “butter”? elsewhere is now the home of my favorite biscuit. it’s 3 or 4 bites big, basted with brown butter, sprinkled with sea salt and crushed black pepper. luckily, they will give every diner one to taste…and you can buy a 4-pack for a next-day treat.

here are a few photos and notes from a recent autumn meal:

spicy-sausage-stuffed seckel pears, on a little nest of kataifi, and pomegranate sauce. the sausage, while fresh and finely tenderized so it mimicked a spread, could have been a bit more robust to stand up to the firm, sweet pear.

i was in a “healthful” mood, so opted for the house smoked catfish, with jalapeno lime aioli.

(i always think there should be more aioli.)

the fish, fresh and sweet, was gently smoked, as if steeped like a tea.

on the side: mini-caesar salad, with a lovely parmigiano crisp and ooh-la-la, a white anchovy.

scream-worthy: a trio of homemade, seasonal ice creams (maple, pumpkin, and my favorite , the butter pecan)

an impressive finish: chocolate hazelnut custard, with cinnamon cream and little crunchies. if this is on the menu when you visit, make this one of your indulgences.

wafels and dinges

when i mentioned to allison that i’d never had a wafel and dinges wafel (*gasp*)– and i’d never heard of or tasted spekuloos (*GASP*), it quickly clarified our day’s conundrum (which of all the sweet treats at mad square eats–artisan stuffed cannolis, blondies/brownies –we should share).

for many years la petite abeille was a favorite neighborhood spot, for any meal of the day. but when it came to their waffels, there was only one for me: gaufre de liege. it looked plain served on a plate, but it had all the sugar baked right into it. if my memory is true, it wasn’t exactly light. but it was a good, modest size–each one was perfectly shaped (they were baked, individually wrapped, shipped from belgium and reheated on-site) and i was always happy and satisfied when i polished one off.

but wafels and dinges is a world apart.

who needs a perfectly shaped wafel when you get to watch one being liberated from the iron grill clamps?

at mad square eats...

if the batter is good and grill master is experienced, then you’d expect the fresh wafel to be superior in every way — smell, texture, taste.

(it’s all true here.)

the batter slightly sweet, and it’s grilled to just “medium rare” –the result is a wafel that is at once crisp and chewy.

allison and i opted for the “de throwdown wafel” — with spekuloos spread and whipped cream. it’s the wafel that strong-armed bobby flay –and i’m not surprised. only the seriously sweet-toothed need apply.  spekuloos spread (also: speculoos) is thick and nutty like peanut butter and cloying, like nutella. i loved it at first, but i can’t imagine this creation without the whipped cream chaser. it shocks the senses. even more shocking to me: spekuloos spread is made of crushed cinnamon-gingerbread cookies (a belgian specialty) and…oil.

i’m not sure why that information unsettles me.  i love cookies. but cookie paste?

it won’t stop me from stalking the wafels and dinges folks to try the wafel-ice cream sandwich, a mini-wafelini, and of course, the liège.

if you are similarly inclined, you can commit their schedule to memory  or follow: @waffletruck

(and: if you’re curious about the cookie paste, wafels and dinges sell the spread, too)