Writing With My Mouth Full

Day 3: Hiking Pulpito de Diablo, El Cocuy

It’s hard to find the perfect adjective to describe the feeling you get when you see a rocky mountain view interrupted only by thin sheets of fog the first time you step out of a tent, but that’s what sticks in my mind when I recall our mornings in El Cocuy.

Sharp boulders lay beneath Pulpito de Diablo, or the Devil’s Pulpit, but after a day’s acclimitization we felt ready for a challenging hike. Man, it looks angry, the Dr. said, describing the ribbons swirling around the mountain ahead of us. After a fortifying breakfast of Trader Joe’s corned beef and rice, we left our stuff in our tent and packed only the necessities for our upward hike towards the Pulpit.

And we kept going up for the next three hours.

We clawed our way up through rocks and pretended there was a path ahead of us. Every time I looked back, it seemed we weren’t making any headway; the Devil was still very, very far away. He threw another challenge our way when he decided that rain would make our trek more fun. The rocks turned slippery and shiny and we had to squint to see through the sleet of water pelting our faces. We couldn’t even see where we were going anymore but we kept on convincing ourselves the finish line was right in front of us.

When we got to the top, or to where we thought was the top, and ran into a father screaming for his son’s name, we decided to rest and wait for the rain to let up. The Dr. hiked ahead of me to gauge how far the Pulpit really was from where we were, but when it still didn’t materialize behind the fog, we painfully accepted that that was the end of our trek.

We started our way back down–wishing the father luck that he will be reunited with his son–and carefully tredged on wet boulders. We also ran into the Germans staying in Susima. They looked up at us questioningly and we nodded knowingly as they also turned to head back down. For the next three hours, I kept looking back up because maybe, just maybe, the Pulpit will reveal itself again and I can convince the Dr. to turn around. We made our way past the giant tank that diverted rain water down the valley and reached our tent without the gray haze dissepating.

My left knee was weak and my feet were completely taxed. We introduced ourselves to the two Aussies setting up next to our tent which only added to injury after hearing that they have one more hike to go to complete the entire circuit. We listened to their story while looking down at their worn Nike hi-tops.

After a couple of hours sleep back in our tents, we walked up the hill behind Susima to sit among the frailejÃ³nes and watched the sky turn from gray to purple then black. Pulpito de Diablo, we will meet again someday.

Marea

240 Central Park South on 59th Street
212/582.5100
$256 for two people, with drinks, without tip
wheelchair patron may dine on street level
♥ ♥ ♥

I’m still thinking of those firm, yet pillowy, cicatelli. After Convivio and Mailiano, I think I’m convinced that when it comes to putting my money down for a great meal in New York City, handmade pasta has got to be a part of it.

The cocoon-shaped cicatelli sat on a very clean but rich seafood broth. Delicate mussels mimicked the pasta’s shape and provided the dish with the saltiness it needed. The summer squash pieces, also sliced so none of them were bigger than the pasta or the mussels, were tender. I’ve never been to Italy, but if this is the kind of dish locals eat along the coast, I might just pack up my shit and move there. If this is Chef Michael White’s creation alone, then I might just invite him to move in with me.

Decadence was the theme from the minute we sat down to eat. We started with Marea’s famous uni topped with a cellophane of melted lardo. If I have to pick a dish that would give me a happy heart attack, I think I found what would easily beat roasted pork belly. This is probably one of the reasons why Marea has just been named Best New Restaurant of 2010 by the James Beard Foundation.

We took it down a notch by breaking the richness with marinated sardines and then crudo tastings of snapper, geoduck, cuttlefish (sliced like tagliatelle), tuna, mackerel and fluke. The citrus and chili oil in all of them subtly cleaned our palates. They exhibited a different kind of decadence: controlled and unassuming.

A plate of morel mushrooms were next. Behold these mushrooms that cost an arm and a leg! I’ve never had them served to me whole, so I carefully sliced them to savor their earthy flavor in every bite.

To cap our meal, we also split the bouillabaisse. There was nothing that could have stopped me from sucking on that butterflied and seared langostine. There was also nothing that could have stopped me from slurping the seafood broth with that large soup spoon and then tilting the bowl to its side to scoop more. Even if Marea is about decadence of the sea, I think this bowl of simplicity says a lot about what seafood can become when sourced from the freshest and the best, and then handled by a pro.

We finished our martinis and old-fashioneds plus our glasses of white wine. I informed the waiter that the panna cotta with rhubarb compote sounded like the perfect ending to our inspiring meal but that there was just no room in our tummies for it. A small plate of petit fours were served while we contently sighed, and to our surprise, our waiter brought us the panna cotta anyway. Eh, there was an extra serving in the kitchen, he said with a smile. I forgot about not having that extra room: you don’t say no when you get something complementary from Michael White’s kitchen; you don’t say no when you get the chance to eat at Marea.

Related post/s:
Convivio is a sister restaurant

Sesame Noodles with Spring Vegetables

Ever since I started working in Connecticut, I’ve missed Asian food. I spend my weekends back in the city eating what I can’t get at work during the day: banh mi, bulgogi, Sichuan-anything, pho, congee, rice and noodles. I’m usually tired of the commute when I get home, but I use the little energy I have left to make myself an easy meal with every bit of Asian-ness I can muster.

You may use any long pasta for this recipe. I used spaghetti because it’s all I had the night I wanted to make this. If you have soba noodles, even better. And don’t feel like you have to use the vegetables I have here. This is a good dish to make to experiment with the spring vegetables you’re seeing out in the markets right now. If you like some crunch, toast the sesame seeds before sprinkling or shower the dish with crushed cashews.

Ingredients:
1 package of spaghetti
1 packaged of extra firm tofu, sliced in manageable squares
1 small Kirby cucumber, sliced
a handful of baby carrots, chopped
a handful of baby corn, halved
a handful of sugar snap peas, destringed
sesame oil
3 cloves of garlic, minced
1 spring onion, chopped
sesame seeds
salt

1. Cook the spaghetti al dente in a pot of boiling water. Drain and set aside until ready to use.
2. In a large skillet, heat some sesame oil. Sauté garlic until light brown. Add spring onion and cook until soft. Add all the vegetables and cook by tossing. The pan should be hot enough to cook the carrots and the corn.
3. When carrots are half-cooked, add the spaghetti. Toss to combine well. Add more sesame oil so that it doesnâ€™t dry up. Add the tofu and gently combine. Itâ€™s okay if your tofu gets crushed a little. Sprinkle with salt to taste and some sesame seeds before serving.

Baked Asparagus With Shiitake, Bacon and Couscous

I saw this original recipe in the New York Times last week. I was reading it and thinking, Oh, I have asparagus, and oh, I have shiitake–here’s dinner for tonight. But I didn’t have prosciutto. I did have some more Mangalitsa Pig bacon in the fridge, so I substituted a more expensive fat for an already expensive fat.

I was very pleased with this recipe. It didn’t require much prep and the cooking was basically hands-off. Double the couscous and you’ll have enough for lunch the next day.

Ingredients:
1 bundle asparagus, tougher ends trimmed, chopped in 1-inch pieces
a handful of dried shiitake mushrooms, soaked in water for 10 minutes, drained, then chopped
4 slices of bacon, chopped
1 cup of couscous
1 cup of chicken broth
oil, salt, pepper

1. Heat oven to 200º. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper twice as long as the sheet. Lay asparagus in a pile in center. Scatter mushrooms and prosciutto on top. Drizzle with some olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Toss vegetables to coat evenly.
2. Fold parchment to completely enclose vegetables, and fold top and sides shut. Transfer pan to oven and bake for one hour.
3. In the meantime, put a small pot over medium-high heat, and bring the broth to a boil. Stir in couscous and remove pot from heat. Let stand for 5 minutes and then fluff couscous with a fork.
4. To serve, divide couscous in serving bowls and top with a scoop or two of the baked asparagus with some mushrooms and bacon.

Golden Beets and Citrus Salad

After my bike ride with Jase and Kate around Central Park, they came over my apartment to eat brunch. I had roasted some beets the night before to prepare this salad because I wanted something very spring-like without having to do any cooking the next day. There were all kinds of citrus in the supermarket the night before, too, so I also bought a few of them to add. Feta cheese may sound weird here because goat cheese is the usual beet partner, but I think the saltiness of the feta worked well with the tanginess of the orange and the subtle bitterness of the grapefruit. I threw in some frisée to add a nice green touch to the yellows and oranges.

Ingredients:
6 large beets, washed and trimmed
juice from 1 orange
2 oranges, rind removed, sliced
1 grapefruit, rind removed, sliced
half a head of frisée, torn to smaller pieces
1/3 cup of crumbled feta cheese
1 small shallot, finely chopped
oil, salt, pepper

1. Preheat the oven to 400º. Wrap the beets in aluminum foil and place on a roasting pan and roast for about 1 hour or until tender. When cool, peel and cut them into chunks.
2. Make the dressing. In a small bowl, whisk the orange juice with the shallot. Marinate the shallot in the orange juice for 10 minutes, then whisk in the olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Toss the beets in the dressing and let sit until ready to use.
3. On each of your salad plates, put a handful of frisée, and then top with a few slices of oranges and grapefruit. Remove the beets and the shallots from the marinate with a slotted spoon and divide among the plates. Drizzle with the beet dressing. Toss and sprinkle with feta.