cia – Page 108 – Writing With My Mouth Full

Blue Hill Stone Barns

630 Bedford Road, Pocantico Hills
914/366.9600
$720 for three tasting menus, with wine pairing, with tip
â™¥ â™¥ â™¥ â™¥

Is there such a thing as too much? We arrived at Blue Hill Stone Barns just in time for our 5pm table where we were welcomed by fresh air and green grass. We sat in the lounge with our pickled ramps and cucumber martinis and black currant cosmo while they prepared the dining room. When we were seated, we met our waiter for the evening, Andrew, who happens to be from Brooklyn. He also introduced us to the sommelier, Thomas, after we decided that the farmer’s feast tasting menu with the wine pairings was the way to go. We hoped to stay for less than four hours–we thought it would be enough time to eat, chill and take the 40-minute train ride home. So how did we end up staying until 11:30pm? And how did Andrew end up snipping fresh herb leaves for our tea while we sat out in the garden? Sometimes, you just accept things as they happen and try remember every detail the next day.

As far as I can recall, we had a few amuse-bouche that featured the summer tomatoes and watermelon from the Blue Hill gardens. There was a tomato gazpacho we drank like a shot, with small tapioca bubbles that tickled our tongues. There were small balls of watermelon and cantaloupe sprinkled with black pepper that were so playful they reminded me of our night at Alinea in Chicago. There were the colorful tomato pulps that otherwise would have been discarded stuck vertically on pins held by a wooden block.

There was feta cheese and watermelon granita served in small wine glasses–a sharp icicle-like texture and smoothie in our mouths. There were roasted heirloom tomatoes covered with goat cheese mixed with arugula. There was the watermelon sliced like a thick cracker, topped with crispy pancetta, currant tomatoes and goat cheese foam. It was a beautiful presentation using the simplest ingredients. Only several dips broke the watermelon-tomato parade: fresh ricotta with honey and black pepper, roasted eggplant, whipped lardo, arugula salt and carrot salt accompanied by Balthazar-baked bread.

One of the main dishes I remember was the waxed beans with farm-fresh egg sprinkled with pistachios, a Blue Hill stand-by. The egg was encrusted in breadcrumbs which made it fun to break. I recalled the chickens running free as soon as our cab entered the Stone Barns property. I pretty much checked out after that: there was pork belly served with the chicken mushrooms they were parading earlier in the evening, and then there was apparently a lamb belly with peas–I couldn’t tell the difference between the two after several glasses of wine. But I remembered the mock-risotto made of summer corn with tomato reduction. Andrew grated an embryonic egg as if it was aged cheese before we took our first taste. The desserts were, unfortunately, erased from my memory completely. I was told that there was a granita of some sort with some whipped cream, but a third one that involved cheesecake came with a lit candle. Andrew knew it was one our birthdays, but he couldn’t let the rest of the table feel left out so we all had our own candlelit dessert.

He could have stopped there, but he made us feel more special by inviting us to check the herb garden in the back. He snipped some of the mint and thyme leaves while we sat out in the garden. He made us some tea to end our evening. It was an expensive night, but one I will remember for a long time, even if some of the details escape me.

Nyanya Chungu, African Eggplant

I was in my neighborhood African store ordering my usual halal lamb meat when these tomato-looking things caught my eye. I asked the lady if they were tomatoes. We call them chungu, she said, but couldn’t help me with its American name. Do they taste like tomatoes? She couldn’t answer that either, so she got off her seat behind the counter, walked to one of the shelves and picked up a can of eggplants. Like this, she said, pointing to the can. I asked how I can cook them and she just told me to make my usual stew and add them. I just bought some Thai eggplants from Chinatown to add to a tagine dish, so I was curious how different the African kind would be. I picked up a few to try out.

When making my chicken tagine–the Dr. is a big fan and it’s one of the dishes I’ve mastered in the last couple of years–I skipped the potatoes and added the two kinds of eggplants instead. I diced them only before I was ready to add them to the pot so that the flesh kept its natural white color. (If you use eggplants, whether they be the fat and bulbous American type or the long and skinny Japanese kind, you know that the spongy meat inside turns black if you have them sitting out for a few minutes.)

The more familiar types are purple in color, aubergines as the French call them, but the African chungus I bought were green and had tight, shiny skins; the Thai type has a marbling pattern of green and white. It was an affordable vegetable to throw in a big pot of simmering meat, and turns out, tastes just like the other eggplants that come in different shapes and colors.

Wu Liang Ye

36 West 48th Street between Fifth and Sixth Avenues
212/398.2308
about $50 for two, with two drinks, with tip
â™¥

Wu Liang Ye was highly recommended to me by a Chinese friend. As we walked on 48th Street, past the OTB, the black garbage bags in front and the two crackheads on the steps, I could see why: there was nary a white person in sight and all the wait staff are older Chinese men in suits even though it was almost 90 degrees outside.

I told one of the men in suits that I was there for a table for two. He asked me if I had a reservation. I looked around at the empty tables and said no. When I told him I will wait for the next table that opens up, he looked at me and ask, You really want to wait? He seated us in the back after five minutes.

I was looking forward to eating Sichuan food. We had a long drive to a wedding in Rhode Island ahead of us and all I wanted was spicy Chinese food. After our Tsingtaos, we ordered our usual favorites: dan dan noodles and kung pao chicken. There was nothing extra special about them, but they are our staples whenever we get Sichuan food. I noticed, though, that Grand Sichuan makes a spicier version than Wu Liang Ye. The pork dumplings that were supposed to be spicy, too, were tolerable. We knew we were only sweating because of the restaurant’s lack of air conditioning. We also ordered the bacon with leeks. They weren’t kidding about the bacon. The leeks provided the crunch while the bacon was the king of salt in the dish. We couldn’t finish it even though we wanted to.

Tandoori Chicken with Peach-Blackberry Chutney

I’m still in shock when I find that most of the ingredients I need for a certain recipe is already in our kitchen. That’s the good thing with store-bought spices: you only have to buy them once in a while because you can store them for up to a year. For this one, all I had to do was buy the chicken, the yogurt and a couple of peaches. I used the blackberries I picked from North Fork after our trip to Montauk. They were in a Tupperware inside the fridge, but even after a few weeks, they were still good to go.

All I really wanted was to use the blackberries before they went bad. I found this chutney recipe online and thought of matching it with pork chops because of the cherry chutney I made earlier this season. But then something Indian-spiced came to mind after I bought several lamb pieces from the Halal store around the corner.

Ingredients:
8 chicken breasts and legs, skinned
1 cup of nonfat Greek yogurt
1 onion, chopped
2 tbsp cumin seeds, toasted, ground
2 tbsps paprika
2 tbsps garam masala
2 tbsps turmeric
2 tbsps cardamom, ground
2 tbsps cayenne pepper
salt, pepper, oil

For the peach-blackberry chutney:
1 cups of blackberries
2 peaches, peeled, seeded, diced
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup cider vinegar
1 onion, chopped
2 coves of garlic, minced
1 small knob of ginger, peeled, chopped
1 small jalapeÃ±o, seeded, chopped
salt, oil

1. Make the marinade by mixing all the spices and yogurt together in a bowl large enough to fit all the chicken. Add the chicken pieces and make sure the marinade covers them all. Marinate for at least 2 hours in the fridge.
2. Make the peach-blackberry chutney. In a saucepan, heat some oil and sautÃ© the onions and the garlic. Add the jalapeÃ±o and ginger and sautÃ© a few minutes more. Add in the cinnamon, vinegar, brown sugar and peaches. Keep sautÃ©ing until the peaches are soft. Add blackberries. Cook, stirring occasionally and crushing the fruits with the back of a wooden spoon. Turn off the heat and let cool. Strain to a container and serve with tandoori chicken.

Salt-Encrusted White Croaker

I received a packet of flor de sal, or flower salt, and a packet of sea salt from Terras de Sal in Portugal last week. What good timing, too, because I ran out sea salt and have been using the grocery store type the last two nights. The Terras de Sal sea salt looks and feels like a handful of rough diamonds. It tastes like they were just filtered from the ocean. The flor de sal is more fine, and because it is traditionally applied to food before serving, its saltiness is less strong.

Terras de Sal mines its salt in Castro Marim, or Castle by the Sea, in the surrounding natural marshland of Reserva Natural do Sapal de Castro Marim. The area is a breeding ground for many species of birds and the salt mines are known to keep its surroundings balanced with the natural environment. All the salt they produce are mined by hand with the aid of wooden instruments and techniques used from a long time ago. When the package from Portugal came, I was very intrigued since I’ve never really distinguished the different kinds of salt available in fine stores today.

I searched for a recipe that uses a large quantity of salt. I used a fish I’ve never heard of: croaker. They were among the newly delivered fresh fish in the Harlem supermarket one Saturday morning and were going for only $2.80 for a whole one. I read later that croakers live in shallow lagoons and therefore eat a lot of shellfish, so they’re meat is considered to be pretty good even though a lot of fishermen think they are a nuisance. (Feel free to substitute with a sea bass.)

When done, the Terras de Sal salt not only gave the fish some flavor, it also gave this dish a uniquely presentable look.

Ingredients:
1 white croaker, cleaned and scaled
1 egg white, lightly beaten
1 lemon, sliced, plus some zest
2 sprigs of thyme
2 sprigs of rosemary
1 cup sea salt
olive oil, pepper

1. Preheat oven to 425Âº. Meanwhile, sprinkle the inside of the fish with pepper and stuff with lemon slices.
2. Make the salt mixture. In a bowl, combine the thyme and rosemary with the sea salt, lemon zest and egg white. You can add a little water to get a coating consistency. It shouldn’t be too crumbly.
3. Coat the fish. Spread some of the salt in a roasting pan and place the fish on top. Completely cover the fish with the rest of the salt mixture. Make sure the whole fish is concealed by the salt as this will seal it and keep all the aromas and flavors inside.
4. Bake the fish for about 35 minutes. When done, remove the fish from the oven and carefully crack the salt case using a heavy knife and remove the fish. Serve the fish with a drizzle of olive oil.

Recommended purveyor/s:
Buy your salt from Terras de Sal