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January 12, 2007
THE LAST NIGHT THE RITZ WAS THE RITZ -- We ogled the crowd at the Bar at the Ritz-Carlton Wednesday. A famous lawyer here, a beautifully turned-out matron there, designer bags and cashmere scarfs galore. The room looked like an extension of a Beacon Hill townhouse. Every table was taken, and people constantly jumped up to shake hands and kiss friends and acquaintances. A man outside walked back and forth trying to get a good last look at the Ritz sign, soon to be replaced by one for Taj Boston.
The waiters bustled happily between tables, delivering martinis and whiskey sours. Good tips that night were guaranteed. Slender -- and very blue -- glasses of Ritz Fizz seemed to be on every other table. (Supposedly the drink won't be served at the Taj version of the Ritz. I'm not sure that's a bad thing, as the concoction of Curacao, Amaretto, and champagne tastes slightly like mouthwash.)
Still, tradition was sliding away as the clock ticked past 9. We finished our Fizz and glasses of wine and called for a check. The line of people at the door was long, all of them hoping for a last glimpse of history.
Posted by Alison Arnett at 04:36 PM
January 10, 2007
My theory about losing weight is that being hungry isn't the right way to do it. It makes you eat the wrong things when your blood sugar drops to the floor and you need something fast. For the moments when I walk into my house and want to grab anything, there's soup. Choose the vegetables you like, and build it like this:
The aromatic roots go into the pot first. Drizzle the bottom of a large Dutch oven with 1 tablespoon of olive oil. Add a few chopped onions or leeks, several chopped stalks of celery, and about 8 chopped carrots with plenty of salt and pepper. Let them cook, stirring occasionally, for 5 minutes. This draws out their flavor. Then add 2 cups of crushed canned tomatoes and continue cooking for 10 minutes.
Meanwhile, chop a half head of Savoy cabbage. Trim a half pound of green beans and cut them into 1-inch lengths. Halve 4 zucchini lengthwise and slice them thinly. Coarsely chop 1 peeled buternut squash.
Add them all to the pot with enough water to cover them. You can use half water and half chicken stock, but with all these vegetables, water will give the soup plenty of flavor (it's the peasant way). Then add a large handful of chopped fresh thyme, parsley, or oregano.
I think broccoli is too strong in vegetable soup. Frozen corn is fine, as are peas. Another good addition is a piece of Parmesan rind. It adds terrific flavor to the pot.
Bring the liquid to a boil, partially cover the pot, and let the soup simmer for 50 minutes or until all the vegetables are tender. When the pot cools, ladle the soup into smaller pots before refrigerating. That way, the soup is ready to reheat the second you want it.
Not much skill necessary, and you'll be thrilled with the results.
Posted by Sheryl Julian at 11:14 AM
January 9, 2007
My daughter invited us over for dinner last week. Never one of those precocious cooks who turned out croissants at age 11, she came to cooking -- like most of us -- by necessity. And after those childhood years when she bemoaned that her mother didn't believe in cruising through McDonald's twice a week or serving Hamburger Helper, she's discovered she likes to cook. She also realizes that food she makes herself is usually healthier and tastes better.
Her dinner was delightful and artistic, as she always is. Red snapper got a colorful topping of onions, tiny, blistered tomatoes, and julienned orange bell peppers; brown rice came topped with steamed broccoli, and her own flatbread was sprinkled with lots of spices and herbs.
Pineapple-coconut sorbet ended the meal. How great to know another generation is getting comfortable in the kitchen.
Posted by Alison Arnett at 05:54 PM
January 9, 2007
Almost a week later and I'm still annoyed by the last episode of "Top Chef." Give these contestants a creative, intriguing challenge and they'll almost always turn out something boring.
For those who missed the episode, one of the challenges was to create a dish that corresponded to one of the seven deadly sins. Sam's spicy shrimp ceviche with chili pepper popcorn was great for wrath. But bouillabaisse for greed, soup for sloth, etc.? I thought the dishes showed a real lack of imagination.
(And I thought that Marcel's cherry-tart take on lust was nowhere near as lame as those on the show said it was. I won't even go into the juvenile pig-piling on Marcel by the other bullies, er, I mean contestants.)
Does someone have to win? At this point, I'm not really rooting for anyone. (Though Marcel now has serious underdog appeal. And Elia can be my BFF if she wants. But Sam? Anger not becoming on you.)
I am rooting for whoever came up with the seven deadly sins challenge, though. It was very inventive. Of course, I immediately started thinking about what I would have made.
For lust, an amuse of one Wellfleet oyster, served with pomegranate gelee alongside a fingerbowl of rosewater with rose petals floating in it. Oysters are aphrodisiacs, and a single taste of something awakens the appetite. Also, after you swallow them, the mollusks (at least apocryphally) stay alive in your stomach for a while, which kind of works as a metaphor for lust, no?
For sloth, lazy man's lobster: claw and tail meat removed from the shell and made into a lobster salad with a sherry vinaigrette, served alongside de-membraned grapefruit segments and sprinkled with chopped pistachios (no annoying shells). On the side, sliced steamed artichoke hearts drizzled with butter, salt, and pepper.
For gluttony, duck every way: roasted, confited, rilletted... Served with potatoes Dauphinoise, a dollop of pommes Robuchon, and a latke. No green vegetables on this plate. Some creme fraiche and caviar for the latke, though.
For pride, Gruyere souffles. Because you're proud when they rise, and pride goeth before the inevitable fall (of your souffles).
For greed, a trio of cakes served with a trio of ice creams: flourless chocolate cake with cinnamon ice cream, almond financiere with coffee gelato, and lemon poundcake with lemon thyme-buttermilk sorbet. So you can have your cake and eat it, too.
What would you have made?
Posted by Devra First at 01:17 PM
January 9, 2007
Food page contributor Debra Samuels puts on a happy hour that goes on for hours and includes much grazing.
Here is one example:
Most of this array comes from Sessa's Italian Specialties in Somerville's Davis Square. Deb calls this "heavy happy hour," which means come with your appetite.
In stages, so you're surprised all evening, she brings out (top right) a bowl of tuna an Italian friend caught and canned(!); sweet-sour cipollini onions; tomato salad; caponata, the chunky eggplant dip. There's a green salad with a bottle of olive oil to dress your own greens; oranges tossed with fennel (bottom right); prosciutto; good salami; crusty bread; a handsome wedge of real Parmesan; white bean salad.
Deb and her husband, Dick, have lived in Italy several times and spent three months last year in Sicily, where my husband and I visited them. I think Deb had already put on many fine happy hours; the little feasts she set out from that tiny kitchen were impressive.
When Deb first proposed coming over last weekend for heavy happy hour, I asked if we should all go out to eat afterwards. "Eat afterwards?" she asked incredulously.
No wonder!
Posted by Sheryl Julian at 10:48 AM
January 8, 2007
Life is back to normal, as least the fridge thinks so. The peppadews (top left) are always on hand to lend heat and sweetness to plain meats. Below them is a container of feta, for sprinkling on salads. The glass salad bowl is waiting for tonight's dinner.
A big bowl of clementines (back right) and baggies of grapes are for snacks. The yellow saucepan in front holds braised turkey thighs from last weekend. The wholewheat bread (top right) is from a new bakery I found.
The orange-yellow pot (bottom right) is filled with my latest vegetable soup. It sits on a blue container, which holds the overflow. A turkey breast (bottom middle) is ready for roasting. It rests on salad greens, which I store in the spinner. You can see navel oranges peeking out from behind them.
The blue-topped containers (bottom left) hold lunches for the week. As usual, three dozen eggs are on hand. You never know when the baking urge will strike, even in this season of my lean content.
Posted by Sheryl Julian at 12:15 PM
January 8, 2007
Making the blog rounds is the news that Cafe Apollonia, an (well, the) Albanian restaurant in Roslindale, will morph into something called Boston Brickhouse Restaurant.
This is one of those restaurants I've always meant to go to, but I never quite got there. Looks like I missed my chance.
Says Cafe Apollonia's website:
"Cafe Apollonia will be under renovations Jan 2nd 2007 until Jan 18th 2007 The renovation will bring a new milestone for Cafe Apollonia.
Cafe Apollonia will be renamed BOSTON BRICKHOUSE RESTAURANT. BOSTON BICKHOUSE [sic] aims to be more family and community oriented and will cater the freshest and most flavorful meals for adults and also children.
On January 18th 2007 we at Boston Brickhouse will be holding an Open house which will contain our new large variety of items from the thin crust NY pizza to the huge juicy burgers and lots more."
Pizza? Burgers? Does that mean in addition to their Albanian specialties, or instead of? Guess we'll have to show up (finally) on the 18th and find out.
Posted by Devra First at 11:43 AM
January 8, 2007
Food memories are perhaps the ones that last the longest. My fondest is the cinnamon rolls all the mothers made at home in my tiny, mostly German immigrant community in Kansas. My grandmother's were the best, and trying to recreate that warm, yeasty, spicy flavor has occupied many baking hours.
Bakeries in the Northeast don't usually bother with cinnamon rolls, instead, if they tread into the genre at all, offer sticky buns. Sticky buns can be delicious -- or sometimes just sticky -- but it's a different sort of treat, more like a candy derivative than something you'd want for breakfast.
So when I stopped at the South Boston bakery Sweet Tooth the other morning looking for cookies for a dinner party, I couldn't resist buying what the baker called "Mom's cinnamon rolls." The rolls were warm, so the woman at the counter carefully put them in a bag. Her smile showed she thought the roll was special, even in a shop filled with elaborately-decorated small pastries and cakes.
When I got to work, I tasted a bite. The yeasty rolls were probably from a recipe very similar to my grandmother Dora's. My colleagues made quick work of the rest, while I pondered. Good, though not quite grandma's. But that's the thing about childhood memories.
Posted by Alison Arnett at 10:09 AM
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