Oh, that is just the fucking coolest. I need more theme cakes in my life. (Scroll through the photostream to see more pics.)
The funny thing is, I was just at the Brooklyn Kitchen, for a pig-butchering demo (more on that in a bit), and I saw that very same pirate-ship cake mold. “Rad!” I thought. And then, “Agh–dangerously close to Williams-Sonoma.” And I turned away.
My “vegetable garden” (really, just some planters on the front balcony) didn’t work out so well this year. Everything was cruising merrily along when I left for Amsterdam: beans, cucumbers, sunflowers, morning glories, mint, strawberries that held over from last year, even a chayote that had just been sprouting all of its own accord on the kitchen counter, so I tossed it in the dirt and soon it was kicking the ass of everything else.
Then, well. I went to Amsterdam.
Inspired by Very Good Taste’s Omnivore’s Hundred, here’s a list of 100 things that an ambitious, globally inspired cook could take on. It’s a bit of a random brainstorm, drawing some things from VGK’s list, and then ranging around various culinary traditions. It doesn’t accommodate vegetarians all that well, and it definitely skews American on the “easy” items (but, hey, toast is universal!). It’s early yet, so I’ll probably think of a million more good ideas over breakfast–and so will you.
But anyway. Here’s the list. If you want to run this on your own blog, please:
1) Copy the list (and the instructions, if you like).
2) Mark all the items you’ve cooked in bold.
3) Strikethrough the items that will never touch your kitchen counter.
4) Post a link back to your blog in the comments, if you like.
The Roving Gastronome Home Cook’s Hundred:
I’m at a job in an office, waiting for work to come my way, so I’ll actually do one of those things that office-job people do: a clever meme post!
From the British Very Good Taste blog, here’s a list of 100 things any good omnivore should’ve tried. A few years ago, I thought I’d aspire to taste everything possible. Now that kind of accomplishment makes me feel a little tired–maybe if every flavor of the world were brought to me on a little platter, while I reclined on the couch? (Maybe with a bucket next to me, for when we got to the balut.) I would also consider being whisked via first-class Asian airline to the source of the flavor.
In the meantime, here’s at least what I have eaten, in bold:
The New York Times ran a nice little piece on a live-poultry-and-more joint in the Bronx. I’m a big fan of these operations, so it’s nice to see some positive coverage about them, and with a ‘here’s a normal part of the neighborhood’ tone, instead of the ‘what is that mysterious place at the end of the block?’ tone you get in the few other articles that have been published.
Gourmet’s July issue also had a great story about getting a live goat from a halal butcher. Well, it wasn’t alive in the end, obviously, but you know what I mean. The butcher says something to the effect of “Hopefully Americans will come to understand Islam better by enjoying this meat.” That would be great (Ramadan kareem, btw). The article isn’t online, but here’s some info about a documentary on a halal butcher, posted by Ian Knauer, who wrote the original story.
I recently came across (OK, no, Peter forwarded me the links) two blogs doing reviews of Astoria restaurants.
Every Restaurant in Astoria seems like the more promising, if only because its authors recognize the sheer foolishness of their endeavor: “like Sisyphus, but with gyros,” as they put it. I like their moxie, and their attitude comes through loud and clear in their review of Sparrow, which pretty accurately gets at the hipster/no-hipster dilemma of Astoria.
Spotted this video on deboning a pig’s head on Gourmet.com, but was too distracted to watch it. Handily, one of my informants passed me the link yesterday. I’m glad I didn’t miss it.
Oddly, the only thing I found heebie-jeebie-inducing was the part where he cleaned out the ears. Ew.
Good prep for the pig-butchering class I’m taking next week. Care to join me? I’ll bring the disposable razors.
We went to the St. Francis of Asisi crab feast in Baltimore again. It was fantastic. They had a new caterer this year, which may be why the crabs seemed plumper and the side dishes were tastier. Zim Zemelman and his orchestra were replaced by some new dame, but the monsignor still played the trombone, and the guy with the big moustache spun the wheel of fortune (Peter won big at the liquor wheel!). And of course there was a crazy lady stuffing crabs in her purse–there’s always one.
I’m so proud! An essay of mine about my killer year in Cairo is in the new summer issue of Gastronomica (Vol 8, no. 3).
You might remember my previous appearance in Gastronomica, but that was just on the letters page, and I was wrapped in blue Saran wrap.
Now I have two whole pages to tell a story near and dear to my heart: namely, how being violently ill in Cairo brought me to Astoria, with some new Indian-cooking skills along the way.
Long ago, I started an email correspondence with a man who wanted me to taste his balls.
I know, these guys are a dime a dozen on the web, but this one was special–it was the estimable Chef Thorwald Voss, one of the founders of the Supperclub. I’ve written about him before, but on this last Amsterdam trip, I finally got to meet the man in question. And taste those lovely, lovely balls. (Peter wasn’t in town yet.)
I biked down to Chef Thor’s workspace, a big industrial kitchen/dining room in the former Sportlife gum factory, which has now been turned into a sort of hip food/design office block. I’d always wanted to go in the Sportlife factory, but now this is the closest I will have ever come.
When I got there, Chef Thor was in the middle of devising a new falafel-inspired Love Bite.
I can’t tell you what’s in there–it’s proprietary. But one of the cool things about Love Bites–that I admit I didn’t really appreciate at first–is that they’re totally vegetarian. Apparently, a lot of Dutch vegetarians are very tortured over standard bitterballen, because, I mean, c’mon, they are the ideal snack to go with beer…but they always have weird little bits of meat in them, vaguely. Basically, not enough meat to really identify, but enough to doom your veggie convictions. Anyway, the falafel-ish Love Bite has a Mid East vibe, but is still very distinctly a Dutch bitterbal.
(If you have no idea what a bitterbal is, it’s just a mini-croquette. If you have no idea why a whole nation would get so excited about such a thing, well, I can’t help you. Just try one yourself. But let them cool off a bit after they come out of the fryer. The goo in the middle can be extremely dangerous.)
I also got to see the end product: Love Bites in their little freezer boxes, ready for dispensing to caterers and bars. Seeing how I first heard of Chef Thor from a hand-scrawled flyer advertising his Wonka-like croquettes, I really had no idea the guy was running such a slick operation now. The Bites are all made in a factory kitchen somewhere that starts with a G (I cannot find my damn notebook–I’m working completely on the details of the day that were seared on my brain!).
Even more fascinating: Love Bites are constructed largely from prefab products. Did you know that there are crumbs made just for coating bitterballen, available in bags big enough to hold several small children? I did not.
Chef Thor dropped a selection of Love Bites in the deep-fryer, which just happened to be one of the most adorable appliances I’ve ever seen. Chef Thor said he found the old gal (brand name: Princess) on the street. Doesn’t she look like the maid in the Jetsons?
Sadly, I was too busy eating the molten-lava-love of the Bites to take any photos. I think I like the spinach-and-cheese ones best, although that ginger-teriyaki combo was pretty savory as well. This sounds nouvelle, but the genius of them, as with the falafel flavor, is that they are still deep down a bitterbal, a blob of goo surrounded by a shattering crust–the epitome of the crispy-on-the-outside-soft-in-the-middle model for pretty much all delicious food.
I don’t know how he does it, as he must surely have reached his lifetime allotment of bitterballen by now, but Chef Thor managed to sample a couple of the LBs, with relish.
Maybe that’s because Chef Thor’s ultimate vision is to serve people nothing but balls: all round snacky food of all sorts, all easily munchable while strolling around. No need to sit still and be served–be dynamic instead! Spread love! Spread food! Taste the balls! Basically, all profits from the Love Bites are going to fund Chef Thor’s next project, which will involve a traveling bus, lots of love and lots of balls.
Meanwhile, in the background, Chef Thor’s pal was getting down with some clay. Whereas Thor is very into future food, little prefab morsels, all streamlined, his cohort was more into the spirit of starting with a whole live animal, breaking it down and serving it on plates you’ve made yourself.
We debated the various philosophies for a bit, talked a little shop about the old Supperclub, pre-corporatization. “That was some of the worst food I ever ate in my life,” said Thor, of Supperclub’s early years, “but also some of the best and most creative. It was a space where you could try anything.”
Amsterdam in the early 1990s was this sweet spot of cheap rent and loads of creativity. Now most of the big squats have been shut down, and regular market forces have been brought to bear on restaurants, which now have to balance their books just like everyone else.
I’m rooting for Chef Thor’s magic all-ball bus–it might bring back a taste of those good years. In the meantime, I’ll settle for some tasty Love Bites.