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| FORK PLAY December 28, 2010
My Christmas Trees. Andrea's Wine Glass. Fish Tag. Two for the Nabes. Savoring Saveur.
Dear Friends and Family,
I've gone four years without a Christmas tree. Midway through December, when I began eyeing the trees stacked  on the corner of Broadway, Steven would remind me we were leaving the country in January and I'd be pressed by deadlines with no time to un-trim and tuck away my treasured lifetime accumulation of decorations. Sadly, I had to agree.
I think this obsession with the tree began with a certain deprivation. My parents worked every Christmas Eve until six at Nat Greene's, their upscale Women's shop and brought home whatever tree the window trimmer had installed in the display window. Fake, of course. Once it was white, then pink. Another year it was chartreuse. I longed for real with cranberry strings and gingerbread people. I had a Christmas White house fantasy. Over my years in New York, the tree did indeed grow taller, the hangings cuter and denser. And then nothing.
So I was thrilled this year when my niece Pamela sent me a baby tree still in its dirt ball bagged in plastic and wrapped in burlap. But where to put it? How to keep from killing it? The tree needed light but no heat or sun, the instructions said. The winter sun pours in through my sole office window every afternoon so that w ouldn't do. There is no light at all in our apartment where bamboo blinds protect us from "Rear Window" eyes.
I had no choice but to set my vibrant living greenery on a table under a flood lamp in the office. Even with an eco bulb (uneconomically left on 24 hours a day), it seems to be working. I amused myself collecting trinkets and souvenirs from shelves: a white rabbit, a doll from Hong Kong, little Miss Mouse, a straw hat brooch, Pooh Bear, a Thai Goddess. Am I revealing more than you want to know? Enough!
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Our colors today reflect silver confetti and red underwear. In Italy, Spain, Turkey and Mexico, launching the New Year in red underwear is supposed to bring good luck. I should think so.
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Andrea's Goblets
I apologize that I didn't write about "The One Red Wine Glass" by sommelier Andrea Immer Robinson in time for Christmas shopping. I suggested the publicist send me a four-pack of the glasses so I could taste test them. I didn't ask for "The One White Wine Glass" because for me, wine is red. I brought the package along to the first dinner  party of newly wed Josephine and Henry. She'd cooked an amazing eight course dinner. A luscious lobster pot pie topped with home made biscuits was the star. We poured a young Bordeaux into the couples' own classic tulip and into Andrea's flared red...it was no contest. The architecture of the Robinson goblet sent a wonderful scent right to my nose; the everyday tulip: nada. I like when promises are kept. Robinson, you may know, was the first woman named "Best Sommelier in America." Her annual Wine Buying Guide is in its 9th edition. Since the glasses cost $49.95 for a quartet, you don't need a serious bonus to indulge. www.andreawine.com.
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The Game of Fish Tag
Michael Psilakis can be found t hese days in the tiny kitchen of Fish Tag on West 79th Street where he first thrilled gourmands at Onera before it became Kefi and then Gus and Gabriel. And if that doesn't make you dizzy, maybe this will: he's sharing the range in that cramped little space with the elusive Ryan Skeen, who was last seen guarding the pass at 5 & Diamond in Harlem before vanishing in a cosmic foam. The two discovered each other when someone introduced them and both agreed they needed to get back into a kitchen. So there they are.
The dining room is not quite so noisy as before wit h fifteen less seats. You can have a cocktail or a snack or a feast at the bar which stretches now almost to the entrance. Servings are mostly generous if not daunting. "You don't want to give stingy portions on the Upper West Side," our server confides.
You have to wade through several leaflets of menu but do not give up. It's not simple. Could be Psilakis had too much time to muse upon it. Stay with it. In just the first week, most of the dishes we tasted were already wonderful. What not to miss? Click here. 222 West 79th Street.
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Two for the Nabes
Vareli, way up on Broadway, packs in the locals. They are ecstatic to find delicious Mediterranean notions in the culinary wasteland of Morningside Heights. A "gourmand bib" rating from Michelin drew me to the narrow little duplex with the vaulted ceiling and an overflow of fans eating at the long copper-topped bar. The Israeli-born chef, Amitzur Mor, a veteran of Bouley, could not be happier, he says. Vareli's owners give him full run of their nearby Westside Market. He shops there everyday and if he runs out of rib eye in the middle of service, he just picks up the phone and in minutes, there it is. Pork is the chef's passion. Learn more about "Pig Tuesday" and what to order by clicking here. 2869 Broadway between 111th and 112th Streets.
Mournful fans of the defunct La Goulue have been trooping down to the Village to commune with Francois Latapie at his new Lyon Bouchon Moderne. What is a bouchon? It's a simple little place celebrating classic Lyonnais cooking. The food police are serious in Lyon and if a bouchon goes too far astray from tradition, it might lose its prized certification. In the Village, at Lyon, I found Lyonnais staples of charcuterie, some still in translation. And a sensational Piemontese strip listed on the blackboard as the "Butcher Cut of the Day." Click here for more on what Latapie is up to right now. 118 Greenwich Avenue at 13th Street and Jane.
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Bon Mouths
I almost didn't get to work Monday. A nd it wasn't the two foot drifts of snow. I started reading Saveur's new "100 Chefs Edition" with my breakfast (fruitcake from Women Helping Women) and I didn't want to stop. But Steven was all bundled up like Nanook of the North to walk me to the office so I had to get a move on. This issue could change your life. Just Fergus Henderson's tip alone could incite a revolution. He says: "A wise old chef once told me: Wait till peas are in season, then use frozen." Do you dare?
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Photographs of Fish Tag's sea urchin and rose flavored candy, Vareli's octopus, and Lyon's "Butcher Cut of the Day" may not be used without permission from Steven Richter.
Photographs of my Christmas tree may not be used without permission from Gael Greene.
Fork Play copyright Gael Greene 2010.
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