Writing With My Mouth Full

Where to eat in Boulder, Colorado: Jax Fish House

I was coming off eating a lot of burgers the few days before my flight to Boulder when Jax Fish House was added by Michelle to my list of places to eat because I had expressed interest in eating more seafood. Seafood! In Colorado! A land surrounded not by water but by the snow-capped Rockies, the Plateau and the Great Plains! I saw four deer on the side of a downtown street!

Soft-shell crabs season had begun–one of my favorite food-eating times in New York City–and specials the last few days have involved them in sandwiches and salads. I had soft-shell crab sandwich the day before my flight, but I still had room for a few more. If I was going to miss the rest of it in the city, I was going to get my fill in Boulder.

I was warned of the wait at Jax–that it would be longer than usual because of the upcoming long weekend–but we decided to try scoring bar seats anyway. The restaurant was definitely crowded for 6pm and the maitre d’ told us the wait would be for half an hour. But not even 10 minutes into our first drinks that we were called to follow her to our table! We were almost unprepared to eat as we were still enjoying our first drinks after my four-hour bumpy flight.

We started off with half a dozen gigantic oysters before their special of, sure enough, soft-shell crab salad with frisée in wasabi aioli. We also split the main of crispy skinned striped bass on top of a beautiful chive spaetzle with roasted carrots and fava beans. Everything on their menu evoked spring vegetables and I fell in love with all the choices of greens. My least favorite dish though was the spearfish sashimi with noodles. I don’t remember the beet-red sauce that accompanied it (could it have been beets?) but the noodles didn’t do anything for me. They took away from the buttery texture of the sashimi. I could have simply eaten the fish unadorned. There wasn’t any room for dessert but we couldn’t resist the key lime tart. I don’t even remember if it was a good key lime tart, only it was what I needed at the time. (I know I use that line every time I order food with my eyes instead of my stomach.)

We sat under the sunroof so we were surprised to notice that the space had gotten dark. We realized that we had been eating for three hours! For two walk-ins, we never felt rushed. Our server left us to catch up with barely any interruptions and our bill for two didn’t break the bank. As a New Yorker, I will never stop feeling amazed at how much less other people have to pay for good food. Boulder’s one of those places: fresh produce, good cooking, affordable prices. I was in Colorado with an already satisfied stomach enjoying the crisp summer night without the humidity and it had only been five hours. I could already tell my weekend was going to turn out really well.

There are two Jax restaurants in Colorado. This Boulder one is at 928 Pearl Street.

Buta No Kakuni, Japanese Braised Pork Belly

I had no idea I missed Chinatown as much as I did last Friday when I made a trip during a break from the office. I stopped by my favorite meat market on Mulberry and saw how beautiful all the pork belly were and took home 8 pounds’ worth.

I woke up Saturday morning feeling refreshed so I was quite disappointed that it was cloudy outside. I set up in the kitchen and started to boil the pork belly, still imagining different recipes in my head. I left my apartment for some fresh air to make up my mind. On my way home late in the afternoon, there was a perfect chill in the air and I immediately craved the pork belly waiting at home braised, just like they do in those quiet Japanese restaurants. All I had to do was pick up a bottle of sake and an envelope of konbu , or dried kelp.

I cooked some sticky rice and washed off the dirt from my remaining ramps stash. In a heated skillet, I added some olive oil and waited for it to smoke a bit. I flash-fried the ramps and drizzled in some of the buta no kakuni liquid to tame the strong onion flavor. When it dried up, I quickly picked them up with tongs and put them on top of the warm rice. A large chunk of pork belly accompanied them plus more of the soy-flavored liquid.

For the second seating of Not Just Eggs the next day, I roasted some Brussels sprouts and Peewee potatoes and used them as a bed for the pork. They held up while the pork beautifully fell apart and the poached egg yolks oozed their way down the sides. I heard a lot of mmms while the six guests were eating and that made me a very happy host.

For dinner, I strained the first batch of pork belly cooking liquid to make my broth and served the belly with noodles, plus steamed bok choy and, yes, another poached egg. It’s the pork belly that kept on giving!

Any way you serve your buta no kakuni, don’t be shy about pouring in the thickened soy-flavored cooking liquid as sauce.

Ingredients:
4 large pork belly, chopped in large squares, washed thoroughly
2 cups of sake
3 sheets of konbu
3 knobs of ginger, peeled
1/3 cup of raw cane sugar
1/2 cup of soy sauce

1. In a large Dutch oven, submerge pork belly in enough water and bring to a boil with 1/2 cup of the sake. Skim off impurities that float to the top.
2. Lower heat and simmer for an hour, covered. Turn off the heat and let cool, uncovered.
3. Transfer the pork belly to a colander and rinse under warm running water. (Save pork belly water in another container for future soups.) Return and submerge the pork belly in the pot again with enough water and let boil–this time with the konbu, ginger, sugar and the rest of the sake. Gently stir to distribute the sugar. Lower the heat and simmer for another hour, covered.
4. Add the soy sauce and continue to simmer for another hour. The soy-flavored liquid should reduce and thicken a bit and the pork should fall off when gently prodded by chopsticks.

Vegetable Fritters Topped with a Poached Egg

I love where I live in Harlem, but the neighborhood has been a bit slow in opening up restaurants I’d like to frequent. Sometimes, after I bike around Central Park, I wish that I can just chain my bike somewhere and eat a satisfying brunch without the food being soggy eggs and weak coffee. Instead, I bike all the way home and make myself a quick bite to eat and think, “Well, that wasn’t so difficult.”

My mother always told me, “If you want it done right, do it yourself.” I’ve created an eating club before called Supper with Strangers, so the idea of inviting people to my home for a civilized and good brunch came easily. Serving brunch to a group of people is easier in theory because there are less courses to prep for and I don’t have to expect my guests to linger like they would if it’s at night. The challenge was presenting more than just eggs to eat, and thus, Not Just Eggs was born. I put up the announcement on my Facebook and Twitter pages and received very enthusiastic responses that I sold out a total of 24 seats for a total of three Sundays in May.

I was actually nervous for the first Not Just Eggs seating. I spent the week before testing a couple of recipes that would taste good with a poached egg on top. I wanted to create a dish that celebrated the spirit of brunch: a substantial meal with a breakfast feel. I had two vegetarian guests and I didn’t want to buy two sets of groceries, so I had to cook a dish that would work for everyone with just the additional meat for the pork lovers as the slight difference.

Since the carrots need to be grated for this recipe, I know you’d be tempted to grate the potatoes as well. Spend extra time to chop them like matchsticks so that they do not get soggy. And it’s okay to use one of those silicone poachers so your eggs come out perfectly. They’re especially handy if you’re poaching eight all at once. The ingredients below made enough for all eight guests with each person getting two fritters. Add pan-fried sausage for the other guests.

Ingredients:
3 carrots, grated
2 potatoes, chopped like matchsticks
scallions, finely sliced
a handful of parsley, finely chopped
3 tbsps flour
salt
pepper
6 eggs
vinegar
oil

1. Mix the carrot, potato, scallion and parsley in a bowl. Add the flour and season well. Stir the eggs into the vegetable mixture to combine.
2. Heat some oil in a sauté pan. Add a large spoonful of the mixture to the oil, lightly flatten with a heat-resistant spatula, and fry each side until golden brown. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on a cooling rack.
3. Meanwhile, bring a pot of water to a boil and soft-poach the eggs. Add a tbsp of vinegar. Crack the egg in a small bowl or a ramekin. Gently pour in the egg–don’t be afraid to get that ramekin wet too–and cook for 3 to 4 minutes or until the yolk is half-set. Scoop the poached egg out with a slotted spoon and place on top of two fritters to serve.

Day 2 in Stockholm, Sweden: Södermalm and Glenfiddich Warehouse

Our last full day in Stockholm, Francine and I hit the hotel breakfast buffet to power up with more herring, more fresh fruits and more charcuterie before we walked around the hip Södermalm neighborhood. We scoured so many stores that we forgot to eat lunch. Towards mid-afternoon, we walked by Louie Louie and decided to join the pretty people inside–I was already convinced by the pretty typeface they used on their sign. (We later realized that it was on our list of places to eat that we’d left back in our hotel room.) While Francine saved a couch and coffee table for us, I managed to talk to the guy at the counter and asked him to order two things he would like for us to try. He chose a warm open-faced roast beef sandwich and a blueberry pie. How do you feel about vanilla sauce? he asked. I flirted back that if he liked it, I would like it. It was an eye-rolling experience. The pie and the vanilla sauce, of course, not the guy, though he was very easy on the eyes. By the end of our day, I ended with vintage dish towels, a clutch and a necklace while Francine fell in love with another hat. Both of us had several items of clothing on our tallies.

We put our feet up back in Gamla Stan at Wirströms Pub and drank a couple of pints to while away the rest of our afternoon. We were pretty desperate to eat reindeer during dinner time. The one place I was dying to go to was closed for the day (also used a good-looking typeface in their logo) and the one recommended by the concierge didn’t serve it. (Thirty-one countries and not once did concierge ever give me a good restaurant recommendation.) We remembered seeing reindeer on the menu when we walked by Glenfiddich Warehouse back in Gamla Stan the day before, so I called to confirm.

We expected a dark and cavernous space full of old barrels and the menu to have some heavy stews. It had been drizzling all day and we were quite ready for a satisfying meal. To our surprise, the kitchen whipped up some beautifully-presented dishes that you would see at a modern restaurant. Ordering veal carpaccio for an appetizer before the reindeer fillet main course sounded a little much at first, but they were perfect split in two.

For a nightcap, we stopped by Akkurat for some scotch before we decided to end the night with a second one in the lobby of our hotel. We counted down the minutes until Francine’s birthday and then toasted turning a year older before we called it a night.

It was a little sad back in our room, packing up and saying goodbye to Stockholm. Though we felt like we did a lot in the short time we had, we agreed we could stay for another day, but alas, real life was waiting for us back in New York City.

Louie Louie is at Bondegatan 13 in the Södermalm neighborhood of Stockholm. Glenfiddich Warehouse is at Västerlånggatan 68 in Gamla Stan.

Related post/s:
Stockholm, Sweden photos on Flickr

Day 1 in Stockholm, Sweden: Gamla Stan and Pelikan

Swedish efficiencies were immediately experienced upon our arrival six hours after taking off from JFK: no immigration forms, no lines at customs, a superfast Arlanda Express train to downtown, smooth check-in at the Nordic Light Hotel conveniently located right next to the train station, a much larger shared room than expected, a good breakfast of herring, paté, fresh fruits, cheeses and charcuterie at the lobby.

Francine and I only had two full days to spend in Stockholm, Sweden and we were going to be as efficient as any Swede. We freshened up after breakfast and picked the nearest neighborhood to explore first. Filled up and energized to walk around Gamla Stan, or Old Town, we looked up old buildings, took photos of the water coming in from the Baltic Sea, crossed bridges and checked out several vintage and specialty stores. Francine scored a cute hat from the “antikt” store on Drakens, or Dragon’s Alley, and I poured over different fabrics with loud Swedish prints and contemplated buying a very pricey wooden sculpture of a mackerel. (For US$200, I changed my mind.)

Kronor still intact in our wallets, we decided it was time to eat again after a couple of hours of walking. If you think Americans are gluttons of the world, you better check the Swedes’ all-time world record when it comes to eating candy. Every Friday, or fredagsmys–literally â€œcozy Friday”–the Swedes unwind and reward themselves with something sweet. The pastry shops and bakeries we walked past displayed wares that made my mouth ache. Café & Brödbod looked more chill inside and so we grabbed a table and bought the two prettiest things behind the glass. My pastry was filled with almond paste and sprinkled with cardamom seeds that made it oh-so-savory. Francine opted for the ultra-light choux with the perfectly sweet cream topping.

We walked off the snacks and snuck into some more alleys to window-shop for souvenirs. I checked out a small gallery where people were drinking while hovering around some art. We went inside several gift shops to look for fridge magnets that also doubled as bottle openers to add to my collection. It took us a few more blocks before we decided that it was time for an afternoon drink. We ducked into Pubologi, a bar decorated after my own heart, and sat at one of the long tables for some hefty and not-so-hefty beers. They were closing to prepare for dinner service, but the bartender let us move to the bar by the front window so we could drink our second and third pints.

After a quick nap back at our hotel room, we joined the tourists for more beers at Pelikan before we shared home-style Swedish cooking of meatballs (much better than what you can get at Ikea’s) with cream sauce and lingonberries and a roasted pork knuckle as big as our faces. A salad would have been nice, but naturally, there were no vegetables on the menu except for an artichoke pie. Pelikan’s cathedral-high ceilings reminded me of the old pubs in Prague and the group next to us singing beer songs reminded me of the camaraderie in Ireland. We spent our last few hours of our first day congratulating ourselves at how well we did even with jet lag and a six-hour time difference.

We were falling in love with Sweden. We didn’t need to worry about the language whenever we had to inquire about something. Almost every person we assumed was local was mad beautiful with their height, skin tone and ridiculously blonde hair, and yet there were a lot of people who looked like us. (I later found out that by 1996, approximately 26% of Stockholm’s residents are of an immigrant or non-Swedish background.) Metro attendants were friendly and everything was convenient and easy to get to. The city may not be on an easy-to-understand grid, but it’s divided into smaller neighborhoods that are explorable by foot.

I could create a long list of the things I love about European countries someday, but for now, I was happy to experience that Stockholm had a lot of them in one place.

Pubologi is at Stora Nygatan 20 in the Gamla Stan neighborhood. Pelikan is at Blekingegatan 40 off the Skanstull metro stop.