FORK PLAY January 21, 2009
Florida Retreat. Scarpetta-Miami brunch. Jean Georges As Always. My Birthday Cake. Three Tomatoes.
Dear Friends and Family,
It was so moving to see the tears of joy at Obama's swearing-in. I wept, too, for Michelle in that ridiculous getup. The press has already anointed her our own  Jacqueline Kennedy. Couldn't one of her seriously chic pals from Chicago tell her that was a cocktail outfit she wore to her guy's ascendance? The girls were perfect. I especially loved that
sophisticated play of pink and tangerine on Sasha.
Have you caught the virus that's going around? Obama fever. Does it make you hungry? Or does it distract you from eating? I'm in Florida, twenty minutes north of Palm Beach and my Times is delivered every morning but I'm starved for NY Post kind of news. I want to know who misbehaved. The Times is too circumspect for me.
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A Taste of Palm Beach
Dinner in the courtyard of a shopping mall under the heat lamps of Bice is an instant tangle with a certain  Palm Beach crowd. I am surprised to see so many solo guys in the bar. Some sociology lesson going on. Are they trolling for rich widows? Looking for a golf match? They certainly haven't come for the soggy pizza or the pitiful gnocchi with limp and faded green beans in a sulky pesto.
Although I do like the chopped salad - chopped into such neat little pieces that not even an absentminded septuagenarian could choke on a misdirected cucumber.
Strolling the streets of Delray it looks like lunch will be either Torelli's or Big Al's prize-winning Philly Cheese Steak Sandwich. "I'm supposed to cut down on meat and not eat cheese," says the Road Food Warrior, "So I'll skip both of them in  one sandwich." At Torelli's he orders a pizza with pepperoni. The pie is surprisingly crisp and bubbly. The $6.99 lunch special is a cup of soup, half a sandwich and a slice of pizza. No wonder America is so fat.
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Defrosting in Miami
Some brunch hounds in Miami are unhappy that vegetables marinated a là moda d'Italia take up most of the space on the brunch buffet at Scott Conant's new Scarpetta at the revitalized and exuberantly expanded Fontainebleau in Miami. "Where are the eggs, the bacon, the French toast?" one Yelper asks.
We loved our $49.95 Sunday outing on Scarpetta's veranda. And there is a choice of frittata, stewed eggs and scrambled eggs with pancetta and provolone on the menu, though the two of us went for pasta as our entrée.
To read more about Scarpetta's brunch in BITE, click here. For my ambivalent critique of Tom Valenti's new West Branch click here. And to check out my vintage discovery of Valenti at Alison on Dominick from New York circa 1989, click here. I am definitely consistent. In those days my complaints about overly-aggressive pricing focused on appetizers from $6 to $10 and entrees as high as $25.
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Sensual Thrills at Jean Georges
Lunch is often about seduction. In this case, it was Jean Georges, as usual, just before I left town, and an editor wooing me to write for him and me tossing out sensuous tidbits of stories I'm thinking about. There is definitely a little fever building, when, out of the kitchen comes a chefly amusement: A satiny egg yolk sandwich topped with a princely plop of caviar - farm-raised in Santa Barbara from Petrossian - and delicious. One bite and our literary fencing is forgotten. It is definitely one of those oh-my-god-I-can't-believe-what-I-am-eating moments. This guy, my powerful companion, is tough - I don't think he'd mind my mentioning that - and he's practically jumping up and down on his chair. What a thrill.
And it continues. There is the matter of my butternut squash soup with black trumpet mushrooms. Butternut squash. In these season-driven times, it's everywhere, but not with this tangy richness that makes every spoonful a delicious shock. ("Crème fraîche, it's classic Jean-Georges," chef de cuisine Mark Lapico tells me later.)
Three little peekytoe crab dumplings are merely delicious but the broth they sit in - juice of fresh Meyer lemon and lemon tea with celeriac and a bit of minced celery on top - is sublime. I take more than my share of swoonful spoonfuls.
By the time my cod and his short ribs arrive, we are both exhausted. Kvelling can be a workout.
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My Birthday Cake
I have to show you my amazing birthday cake. Several friends, great cooks all of them, gathered for a  small birthday dinner at Eddie Schoenfeld and Elisa Herr's house in Brooklyn. And my friend Naomi decided that Sylvia Weinstock, the mythic wedding cake goddess, should design the cake. It came disguised as a mixing bowl, with layers of lush chocolate and raspberry-filled cake, frosted on top floating a hat, a
ring, a string of pearls and my signature brooch, all in marzipan. Most wedding cakes are prim and boring inside. Not Sylvia's. I cut myself a major slice and ate every morsel, then sat a while till I could move again.
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On the Foodie Calendar
I'll be spinning tales of delicious excess at a cocktail gathering put on by Three Tomatoes Tuesday at Etcetera Etcetera. I counting on you to come by and Ask Gael. Click here to sign up. And I hope you've already bought a ticket for tonight's exciting book launch of Dining in New York City, a benefit for Citymeals, hosted by Daniel Boulud and Marco Moreira with chefs from 14 of the all-star kitchens cooking. Call 212 687 1290 for information.
And don't forget that visitors to InsatiableCritic.com can get a 10% discount for whatever you buy at Zabar's. See their ad on my site for the checkout code.
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Photos of Scarpetta's veranda in Miami, al fresco dining at Bice,
Torelli's or Delray Pizza and my birthday cake may not be used without
permission from Steven Richter.
Fork Play by Gael Greene, copyright 2009
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