| FORK PLAY March 22, 2011
The Quinoa Crisis. Nuela, Hurricane Club. La Silhouette. Spasso. Spicy Fruit Salad.
Dear Friends and Family,
Again and again this week we rediscover that there is no more isolation in the global scheme. People are buying potassium iodide to protect against radiation fro m Japan, even though we're told the plume will lose its power by the time it reaches Santa Monica. General Motors had to close a plant in Shreveport, LA because factory closings in brutalized Japan have created a parts shortage. Just when the troops were lining up to leave Afghanistan, we're joining a new war against Qaddafi. There are not six degrees of separation anymore.
NASA scientists searching for a wonder food to sustain astronauts on long term space missions discovered an Andean plant called quinoa. Bolivians have thrived on it for centuries, but it was a food for health food faddists until recently. Now, the Times reports, the demand for quinoa in rich countries has sent prices soaring. Bolivia ns can't afford to buy it anymore. Local consumption had dropped 34% and chronic malnutrition in children in quinoa-growing areas has climbed. Even if locals are willing to pay the inflated price, they often can't find it. Growers prefer to export it.
And there's no isolation in Bolivia anymore either. One mom laments that affluent children in Bolivia refuse to drink healthy quinoa juice when they can have a Coke. Our fault again.
If I thought it would reverse the trend, I'd give up my quinoa, my hummus and my tabbouleh, and go back to potato chips.
*** While waiting for local asparagus and ramps, I've borrowed the colors of blueberries and blackberries for Fork Play today. ***
A Craving for Chicken
Penny seemed to be blaming me because her pants were tight. "We can go anywhere but I must have plain fish or chicken," she said. Fred has been watching his cholesterol for a while now. The Road Food Warrior was intent on avoiding fat and salt. I long a go committed myself to slow death by mayonnaise, bacon, beef cheeks and potatoes anyway they come, but I felt compassion for the struggles of my comrades of the reviewing table. So I booked at Nuela. If it needed to be chicken, at least let it be chef Adam Schop's marvelous smoked chicken with a whole poached egg and papas a la huancaina. No deprivation there.
It was Friday night and the place was jammed. Lots of youngish idlers in the bar area, and all around us people sharing the smoked chicken. I guess word has gotten around. We ordered the arroz con pato too - roasted duck breast and confit'd thighs with seared foie gras in green rice. The "Puritans" shoved the foie gras aside and had a spoonful or two of rice and agreed the chicken for two at $25 pp was easily big enough for the four of us. The chef came out to thank me for my rave in Bite, bringing a box full of the exquisite little ganache cookie sandwiches that come with the check. They crumble when touched they're so delicate and very lush. 43 West 24th Street between 5th and 6th Avenues.
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The Weatherman Predicts Hurricane
I was waiting for an excuse to go back to the Hurricane Club. I was the first to love it, and loved it more than most of the critics who count, but with so many new spots bobbing up demanding exploration, I needed a push. The fact that Marcia and Myron had not yet been was reason enough for me. We got a table in the "quiet" back room. If that was not the eye of the hurricane it was certainly the e ar. We shouted over our rum drinks and our pupu, Samoan deviled eggs, fabulous croque monsieur spring rolls and peanut butter and guava jam with prosciutto tea sandwiches. My companions definitely pooh-poohed the latter, but I adore the combination. The crackling-skinned Peking pig cut into squares for stuffing into Chinese buns with hoisin and scallion was as fabulous as I remembered.
Maybe more so. Tender flesh. Caramelized skin. And the honey-glazed baby back ribs were juicy and fatty and meaty. I love their lotus root chips too. Of course we had to have the Hawaiian fried rice with an egg on top in the hot stone bowl so I could burn my hand again and complain about it. Again. Steven wanted noodles. I chose the ramen over the Shanghai lobster fra diavolo since I thought we'd already ordered too much, as usual. It was more thick firm noodles with greens and spicy ribbons of baby back pork than broth. An inspired choice. Maybe next time I can sacrifice burning myself on the rice pan and go directly to ramen. If you can't get a booking, just wander in and order pupu at the bar till a table clears. 360 Park Avenue South at 26th Street.
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French Enough for Me
No. La Silhouette is not a spa or bra shop. It's a good-looking little French restaurant of serious ambition in what used to be a garage near Ninth Avenue. Two veterans of Le Bernardin and a French chef who catered for Daniel and backed up Laurent Tourondel at BLT Market conspire to elevate the brusque tone of the neig hborhood with couturier presentations. The season's first white asparagus from Belgium, for one. Truffled potato soup served in a potato shell alongside grilled cheese fingers that haunt me. Pappardelle with wild boar, braised kale and ricotta -- at once rustic and excessively rich in one fell swoop. To read what else you want to order click here. 362 West 53rd Street between Eighth and Ninth Avenues.
***
Spasso Just Fits
We're a few minutes early. Our table isn't ready yet. The four of us are salami'd into the wind break entrance at Spasso waiting for a quartet to exit. I'm getting grumpy. My guy's knee is unhappy. We have to keep shifting and turning. Wherever we stand we are in the way, so meone is arriving or leaving or needs to get by. It's beyond intimate with the strum of good time squeals and cries almost drumming out the music. In this spirited young crowd I feel like an intruder, but it's Hudson Street, reviving good memories from the golden days of the late Alfredo Viazzi's taste of Tuscany, Trattoria da'Alfredo. Are you old enough to remember? I'm glad the four of us are sharing tonight, ignoring the house cured meats and cheeses everyone offers now. Half an eggplant arancini is enough for me, from a starter of three big globes with vibrant roasted tomatoes and a smear of whipped housemade ricotta. Good enough, but not as compelling as that thick ribollita, the rustic porridge of Tuscany, with black kale, soggy islands of bread and another plop of ricotta. Discover what waits for you on Hudson Street now by clicking here. 551 Hudson Street at Perry.
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Time for Tacos
Bowls were collecting on the kitchen table, almost all colorful mixtures of vegetables or fruit to fold into corn tortillas and douse with hot sauce or guacamole. The two of us, Steven and I, joined Devi's Suvir Saran  and Charlie Burd, a marketing power at Kiron knives, to meet the chef, teen-idol and cute Yvan LeMoine, cooking from his "Food Fest 365" (Adams Media $21.95). A party for every day of the year is the book's whimsical theme. Buy it now at Amazon. Yvan had come to America at 13 from Venezuela, was discovered by the late Michael Batterbarry of Food Arts, and helped Cyril Renaud open Fleur de Sel in 2000. I asked him to share the recipe for his spicy fruit salad with me. "Ripe" is the theme. You'll see he wrote it twice in caps. You'll want to try his "Fage FroYo" with fresh cracked pink pepper too.
Spicy Tropical Fruit Salad by Yvan LeMoine
Serves 6 to 8
1/2 RIPE Papaya (peeled and cut in small chunks about 2 cups)
1/2 Asian pear (sliced thinly)
1/8 cup fresh cilantro (only the fronds, washed in cold water and dried)
1/2 tsp jalapeno or serrano pepper (chopped finely, seeds and all)
2 limes (2-3 tbs of juice + the zest)
1 cup watercress (washed in cold water, stems removed)
salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Peel and chop the fruits and greens. Combine the sliced mango, papaya, lime juice, zest, hot peppers, salt and pepper in a bowl, toss together, cover and refrigerate for 1 hour. When ready to serve, add the watercress and Asian pear. Check the seasoning. Garnish with quarters of lime, cilantro fronds and a little more fresh lime zest.
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Fage FroYo by Yvan LeMoine
Serves 6
2 1/2 cups Fage Greek Yogurt (0%, 2%, or Whole)
3 tbsps superfine sugar
20 grinds of fresh pink peppercorn
Combine all ingredients in a bowl and whisk until the sugar is completely dissolved. Place in an ice cream maker and freeze until set. Serve in a bowl you chilled in the freezer with a little fresh pink pepper on top.
***
Photograpghs of smoked chicken at Nuela, Hurricane Club's honey glazed baby back ribs, La Silhouette's potato soup may not be used without permission from Steven Richter.
Fork Play copyright Gael Greene 2011.
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