FORK PLAY August 23, 2011 Critics for Sale. Almond Erotica. Finding Jean-Georges. Hampton Eats. La Esquina. Cool Peach-Tomato Bisque. Dear Friends and Family,
I was shocked and not totally surprised t o read a NYTimes report last week that fibbers and promoters are selling and buying online rave reviews. Shocked because the practice could be so blatant, but not surprised because I often wonder who has the time to write all those gushing reports on TripAdvisor. Actually, the story broke the day after I emailed a few friends and family asking if they would consider writing an online review of Blue Skies, No Candy or Delicious Sex, my vintage erotica that I'd just published as ebooks on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and other sites.
Of course I wasn't offering money or even a free dinner. Me? Tightwad that I am, pay for a rave? Guess I was born in the wrong generation. I wouldn't insult my friends or in-laws. One niece was so proper she said she would reread Blue Skies first.
My 84,000 twitter followers got the same request...well, why not? Let them follow me back to the golden days when sex came before sexting - and often before dinner.
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Erotica at Almond in Bridgehampton
Blue Skies, No Candy was a hardcover best seller in 1976 and it hit a million in paper. Even so, I didn't expect to see fans with stained and tattered relics and even brand new hardcovers of my memoir Insatiable at the recent dinner-reading I did at Almond in Bridgehampton. It was very touching. Both Almond's exuberant co-owner Eric Lemonides and I were amazed th at his 90 seats sold out four days before our event. A download of either book was included in the price of dinner. I was nervous as I always am before a performance. I'm not sure I ever did a reading from Delicious Sex when it came out in 1981, and the only time I read from Blue Skies, to a gathering of aristocratic blue-haired dames at a Mondavi cooking class in 1972, I struggled to find a passage without a four-letter word. And failed. At Almond, I was the amuse before dinner. Chef-owner Jason Weiner's Sagaponack salad - a just-picked gathering of corn, fingerlings, and wax beans that tasted like summer - was followed by olive and avocado-accented Montauk fluke crudo, delicately cooked dayboat scallops with  "creamed" corn, and basil marinated sungolds, with peach trifle for dessert. I asked, "Why did Catherine the Great, Empress of All the Russias, have her lovers killed after one night of sex?" Everyone looked up from the scallops. "Because she couldn't stand the empty feeling when a lover doesn't telephone the next day." Earlier I stopped in to check out the MIC and got a tour of Almond's literary homage in the bathroom: Eric's idea to paper the walls with pages from memoirs by Truman Capote, Craig Claiborne, Sirio and me. He lifted the mirror so we could see where some juicier pages are hidden. Regardless of how you feel about fame in the loo, it has to be a tribute to be included in that company.
Click here to download Blue Skies, No Candy to your reader and click here to download Delicious Sex. ***
Peach and tomato inspire Fork Play colors this week and the Summer Bisque (below) by my assistant Katharine Schub.
*** Finding Jean-Georges
I'm sure Jean-Georges Vongerichten was as shocked as I was to see his name missing from The Wine Spectator's September cover ode to America's Great French chefs. Daniel Boulud is crowned the leader of the pack. Eric Ripert, Alain Ducasse, Robuchon, they make the cut. The Las Vegas Frenchies get a nod. Jean-Georges was a better sport about it than I when we spoke.
"Maybe they thought I am German because of the name," he said.
I phoned editor Tom Matthews to see what The Spectator could possibly have been thinking. They do a lot of wine tasting up there, you know. Is it possible the food and wine press has forgotten Vongerichten's revolutionary abandoning of classic long-cooked bone stocks for bouillons, jus de legumes, les vinaigrettes and infused oils at Lafayette in l990? Click here to read "Lafayette: The Drake's Progress". And click here to read The Wine Spectator's lame defense.
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Hampton Eats
I always wonder what a friend means when she says "not our kind of people." East Hampton second-homers can be so dismissive of Southampton. As for Westhampton folk. Please. I don't want to comment. Aren't we all Johnny-come-latelys? I would say Nick & Toni's (136 North Main Street, East Hampton) is definitely our kind of people, but it does get a swift dose of people who are even more parvenu than you and me.
Was it two or three years ago that we abandoned my East Hampton favorite over listless Caesar, and the small overcooked veal chop greedily priced? Just the two of us return in a Saturday frenzy of the entitled demanding tables - the Me Generation in menopause and early dementia. Yet the kitchen is marching again and our pleasure is not just being indulged by Bonnie or treated by the chef to a $32 platter of lobster sliders. Sensational "lil'uns," nothing but butter and the sweet flesh of crustacean. Even the home-made lightly salty potato roll is a marvel. I barely have hunger left for the thigh of my splendid oven-roasted chicken. I'll take the rest home. Recessions and market droop has surely made thrift chic. Mirko's (670 Montauk Highway, Water Mill) strikes me as sedate and well-bred. I felt like I was in Palm Beach. The Road Food Warrior felt cheated when the Portobello pizza turned out to be a mushroom pretending to be a pie but he was comforted mightily by the $46 rack of lamb. Foody's (760 Montauk Highway, Water Mill), a few hundred feet west of Mirko, balances out the gentility with a biker's vibe. The sausage hero and pizza I loved in May, when the chef was lumbering around the kitchen, was so wasted and dry (hero) or soggy (pie), I wanted to take out an ad to warn readers who'd read my rave in Plum Magazine. At best, it is dangerously inconsistent. East Hampton Grill (99 North Main S treet) from the Los-Angeles based owners of Palm Beach Grill didn't feel either Hollywood or Palm Beachy to me. "Not our kind of people," pals warned. I spied a few of my people who may or may not be your people but, more importantly, loved the hugely rich, blue-cheese-engorged iceberg wedge even though it was $16. Click here and scroll down for more. I'm hoping South Fork Kitchen's (203 Bridgehampton Turnpike, Bridgehampton) $68 prix fixe has some flexibility in the off season because I am eager to explore more of Chef Joe Isidori's obsessive farm-and sea-to-table cooking. I want to see what he will do with squash and potatoes and game this fall. Read what Isidori's up to right now. I never grow bored with the double ferry ride to the North Fork. I longed to taste North Fork Inn's l unchtime lobster roll but the Inn was closed. They sent us to a summery looking Noah's (136 Front Street at 3rd, Greenpoint), where sociable owner Noah Schwartz is in the kitchen turning out small plates - excellent crab-topped deviled eggs, Tasmanian crab tacos - and giant lobster rolls. "Not a lot of mayo," the waiter warns. Two fat foil packets of Hellman's did the trick for this mayonnaisiac.  You'd never talk me into driving to Hampton Bays from East Hampton even though I found Rumba (43 Canoe Place Road, Hampton Bays) a hoot- loved the fried oysters, barbecued rib tacos, duck empanadas, rum punch and easy prices. But I'm game if you'll drive. Click here and scroll down to read more.
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We're La Esquina? Who Are You?
There are restaurants I've never gone to that New Yorkers love. Either they don't take reservations or you need to know someone. I don't know La Esquina's Serge Becker so I'd never been. But catty spoilsports say bridge and tunnel riders have the secret to the unmarked private cellar at La Esquina, so no reason I can't wiggle my way in too. A friend who DJs there says she'll put my guy's name on the list, not mention me. "You might want to eat fast because the DJ starts at 10 pm," she warns, knowing my annoyance levels. I remember a very boozy margarita and a lot of fun. Click here for my BITE.
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Katharine Schub's Cool Peach and Tomato Bisque
Serves 4
1 medium onion, chopped
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 large peaches, peeled and chopped (about ¾ lb)
4 large tomatoes, chopped (about 2 lbs)
1/3 cup creme fraiche or sour cream
Salt and fresh ground pepper, to taste
Chiffonaded basil
Saute chopped onion in butter until translucent.
Stir in peaches and tomatoes.
Simmer on low flame for 10 minutes.
Puree the tomato peach mixture with creme fraiche or sour cream.
Chill. Season to taste. Serve with a flourish of basil.
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Photographs of Almond's memoir-papered bathroom and the scallops, Nick & Toni's chicken, the wedge at East Hampton Grill, South Fork Kitchen's oysters, and Karine with her rum punch at Rumba may not be used without permission from Steven Richter. The photograph of Noah's lobster roll before mayo may not be used without permission from Gael Greene.
Fork Play copyright Gael Greene 2011. | 
