Fork Play April 29, 2008
Death of a Toaster, Zabar's Euphoria, Le Bernardin in its Prime, Dim Sum Deluxe
Dear Friends and Family
Our daring to have the kitchen painted for the first time in two decades has led to a fatality. My treasured toaster oven -  the sturdy little no-frills machine my mom Saralee gave me when I moved to New York - finally expired. It had some permanent stains, occasionally caught fire, but was conveniently small enough to sit on a shelf out of the way, was light enough to move even when I was in a morning fog, and did a superior job top-browning macaroni for two from Fairway.
Then, the day after we moved back into the gleaming freshly painted kitchen, for no reason at all, it just died. From the glare of the white enamel? Steven pressed the "on" button, the machine sizzled, sparked and died. Dead. I was shocked. I felt strangely old. I missed my mother.
Bloomingdale's was advertising a great looking replacement, reduced to $69.95 from almost $200 for just 24 hours, but who has time to cross town? So I set out Sunday morning for Zabar's. It was early but already the cheese department was full of shoppers. A woman pushing me aside to get into the olives cried excitedly to a friend, "You see, this is what they do best!" Westsiders fingered the cheeses as they showed off our hallowed cathedral of gastronomy to friends from the hinterlands.
I hadn't been to Zabar's for a while since Fairway settled a block from my pad, but I have fond memories of endearing clutter and intoxicating aromas. Over the loud speaker a voice urged us to take advantage of a chocolate promotion and then, with great pride, introduced Zabar's new rye bread, baked on the premises, "Five years in the testing and perfecting." Suddenly a tsunami of shoppers in territorial seizure surged through the door. I quickly escaped up the stairs to housewares.
At the top of the landing, once I tore myself away from the Technicolor dazzle of Crusetware and dishes to match, I was not really surprised to see a stack of the same toaster ovens from the Bloomies ad, reduced to $69.95 here too.
(Fork Play regulars know I love bright colors in odd juxtaposition. Last week the newsletter wore cherry red and cherry blossom pink. Today, smoked salmon orange and red onion purple.) Zabar's vast stock of toaster ovens overwhelmed me so I called Steven, who was grumpy about running out on the Sunday morning TV pundits.
We debated. Should we buy an exact replacement- bare bones, no frills, narrow enough to tuck into the same convenient perch? Or was it time to come into the 21st century with a multi-purpose monster, grill, rotisserie, convection oven, pizza stone? The ticky-tacky little toasters were not tall enough to brown macaroni in the Fairway foil dish without requiring a fire extinguisher. So we settled on the big bargain clunker. As Steven wrestled it down the stairs, I started looking for the bread department. I wanted that rye, but Steven was already on the street, dumping his too heavy load into the trunk of the cab.
Now the monster rules the counter, having evicted the coffee maker, Champion Juicer, Cuisinart, coffee grinder, and handsome mortar holding whisks and spatulas, skimmers and other essentials I might use again. It has more knobs than a submarine. It's still sealed with tape, as if Steven is waiting for me to wade through the instructions and I'm hoping he'll take the plunge. I know I should have asked Viking to redesign my kitchen. But I didn't want to waste Viking on this pitiful little space. I was hoping to get their attention for the loft I didn't buy because I waited too long.
By the way, I just tasted Zabar's sourdough rye bread, still warm from the oven. I called the store to ask about its genesis and they sent some over. Saul Zabar has been fussing with the recipe for five years, I hear. (Well, it's not like bread doesn't run in the genes.) Oh Ceres, or whoever is the Goddess of bread. I don't think I have ever had a rye this magnificently crusty and properly dense, confettied with caraway seeds, infinitely better than Orwasher's. I promise nothing to advertisers on the website (we don't take restaurant ads to avoid any conflict) but I can't help myself. I love this bread. I hope it doesn't need to be toasted tomorrow morning. I'm still waiting for Steven to locate the right button.
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Le Bernardin in Its Prime
A faithful reader of Insatiable Critic insists Eric Ripert has fallen totally for Asian-fusion at Le Bernardin. True there is in almost every dish an ingredient that is identifiably Japanese, Spanish, Indian, Vietnamese - yuzu, wasabi tobiko, nuoc mam, kaffir, tamardind. But this sensitive, serious, dedicated chef-partner never loses sight of the fish itself unlike some of his peers for whom creativity and chemistry is all. "I feel the food," he has written. "If I don't feel the food, I will only be a great technician, never a great chef. For me food is about memories, feelings, emotions and so is Le Bernardin. That's why it is not just a restaurant, but a great one." To read why I agree, see BITE.
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The Gelato Maestro
When I heard that the gelato wizard Gino Cammarata was not only delivering his mythic pistachio and hazelnut to restaurants again but had also given the chef of Padre Figlio some Sicilian pasta tips, I checked in right away. Meanwhile diehard gelato fans had already chased down his new home base inside a tanning parlor in Bensonhurt.
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Dim Sum Deluxe
Chinatown Brasserie struck me as the perfect place for dinner to tickle a new friend with family ties to my home town Detroit and her Parisian family. I thought they should go for the dim sum alone as well as a chance to taste contemporary Chinese food in America. Nowhere in Paris would they find the range or refinement of Chef Joe Ng's exquisite dim sum. The four young children of my friend and her French husband were about as sophisticated as kids get with the virtue of also being French and extremely proper. They all drank appletinis and knew exactly how to pick up a Shanghai soupy bun without breaking the skin and slurp the juice inside. Chinatown Brasserie was equally impressive with its newest menu and dim sum options. I sipped my frozen mai tai, savored a fried pot sticker, marveled at the sheer wrap on the shrimp and snow pea dumpling, as well as the fragile lobster package. Not everyone loves turnip cake as much as I, so I got an extra square. I'm not sure I've ever had a skewered saté that was as memorable (or I would remember it), but Ng's idea of a chicken sate is three or four wonderfully savory and juicy nubbins of dark meat on a small skewer. Pretty amazing.
In a bid to lure bigger crowds at lunch - dim sum fans, penny pinchers as well as calorie counters - the Brasserie has added salads, and, taking a card from the sushi world, now offers two chef's dim sum selections - 8 different dumplings for $12 or the Dim Sum Deluxe, 12 for $17, including soup or sesame noodles. There's also a dim sum lunch where dumplings, buns or spring rolls come in twos instead of fours, and you choose your own.
380 Lafayette Street near Great Jones 212-533-7000
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Australia Asks Gael
I ask readers to Ask Gael and got this email from a food journalist in Australia:
Miss Gael,
I'm in a flap. A sweaty-palmed anxiety spiral. I do hope you can be my benzo.
I have a few days and nights in NYC next month that are wide open and really do need help prioritizing destinations in my gastronomic drift. Dovetail? Yes or no?
Assuming I nab a table, should I endure Siberia at Graydon's BCBG venture, and if I do should I shell out $55 for the mac and cheese?
Should I be eating at my hotels (Peninsula, Mandarin Oriental, Algonquin, Four Seasons, Essex House)?
Will haute spot Per Se inspire tears of joy, or tears of shock at the price?
I want to try the best of America. Good BBQ, soul food, pizza. I'm a fan of cold beers and fickle pinots alike. My tastes are: simple, seasonal testaments to the ingredient. Honest real food with a minimum of wankery. Japanese sensibilities and consistent execution.
I enjoy all cuisines. I tolerate airs and foams, albeit with suspicion.
I avoid hazelnuts.
As a magazine editor and food and wine columnist, I ought to visit a place that might not even be to my taste, but typifies the city in 2008.
Here's my response:
Dovetail. Yes. I prefer it on Sunday when it has the $38 prix fixe. I also love Olana and Commerce - though you might want to wear earplugs to Commerce. Mia Dona is worth a visit too - fabulous bargain lunch if you can't score a table at dinner. Friends who've been are raving about the food at Benoit but I have not tasted it yet.
I would never go to Waverly Inn again myself unless Graydon invites me to join his table - I don't need to be humiliated. And then I assume he would pay for the $55 mac and cheese (I didn't taste it on my one visit.).
You might want to have lunch at the counter at Atelier de Robuchon in the Four Seasons Hotel. Otherwise I don't think you want to eat at your hotels.
Per Se was thrilling the first three times when Thomas Keller was there - but the fourth time -we were guests - it was less exciting and more expensive. Even so perhaps it is an experience you should have.
I love Bobby Flay's Bar American. Le Bernardin is the best restaurant in town. Anthos is one of my favorites - also great for lunch - some of the food is definitely weird but I love the sea urchin risotto on an egg. BBQ could be Hill Country -but we have had amazing BBQ rack of lamb and BBQ short ribs which have to be ordered ahead and need six or eight people in the back room of Daisy May's BBQ. Wildwood just opened and looks fabulous but I'd give it more time.
I like Celeste on Amsterdam Avenue - no credit cards, no reservations - for small crisp perfect little pizzas, great pastas and the best Italian cheese plate I've ever tasted. Read my website for info on Fiore in Williamsburg. (Williamsburg is what's happening in NYC right now.)
Jean Georges for lunch is a must. Read in Favorites: "Where I Go When I'm Pinching Pennies" and "Where I Really Go for Lunch." Strip House has the best sirloin and imperative chocolate cake.
I like a split and broiled "special" hot dog at Katz's or any Jewish deli - it came just the way I asked for it at the new Second Avenue Deli near Third Avenue, where the pastrami and corned beef are good but Deli regulars are offended by most everything else.
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Photos of Le Bernardin, Padre Figlio antipasto offering and Le Bernardin partners Eric Ripert and Maguy Le Coze may not be used withput permission of Steven Richter.
Fork Play by Gael Greene copyright 2008
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