Writing With My Mouth Full

The Mermaid Inn

568 Amsterdam Avenue between 87th and 88th Streets
212/799.7400
about $70 for two, with two beers, with tip
♥

I’ve never been big on moderation and that’s why a lot of the time, I find myself eating and drinking too much and paying way more than I can afford. At The Mermaid Inn, the Dr. pushed on the brakes and ordered for both of us while I went to the restroom. He ordered just enough food to keep me happy and full. The half a dozen oysters were from Washington: briny and just delicious. He’s a bigger fan of littleneck clams than I am so I let him finish five out of the other half dozen.

If I called the shots, I would have ordered a whole roasted fish after the oysters and the littleneck clams that we started with. Instead, we split a bowl of steamed mussels. It hit the spot and our waiter accommodated our request for some extra toasted bread to sop up the leftover aromatic broth.

Sometimes, you just want a no-frills dinner in the city. At the new branch of the Mermaid Inn, we got just that.

Bar Boulud

1900 Broadway between 63rd and 64th Streets
212/595.3034
about $60 each for two, with drinks, with tip
♥

The first time we tried to eat at Bar Boulud, we chose to sit outside with the theater crowd. We were looking at the menu when the heavy wind hit, taking fragile wine glasses with it, shaking the awning violently and scaring the diners enough to make them run inside and to the basement. When it was time for a second visit, I sat at the bar where one of the servers excused himself more than once to use the ham slicer. He heeded my joke about giving me a plate of the jambon for the inconvenience.

The Thomas Schlesser-designed space is stunning. The long vaulted ceiling reminds you of an old wine cellar as soon as you walk in. Even if the restaurant is full–and even if your purse gets bumped into by the runners multiple times–you still get a feeling of some intimacy and warmth.

I can’t resist a duck leg confit whenever I’m eating bistro food, so two of us split that after a serving of pea soup with mint crème fraîche and escargots with potato croquettes. The summer beans were a little too chewy for my taste and I wanted the duck meat to give more easily than it did. I can recall better duck confit at Balthazar.

One of the dessert specials involved blackberries and blueberries so it seemed like the best choice for a summery and tart end to our night. I’m no expert on sweets but I had no clue why whatever came out was chewy and candied. It looked unappetizing. We picked the berries and left the pie barely touched.

I still remember my experience at Daniel six years ago. It was my first foray into fine dining. The food was something I’ve only read in books and seen in photographs. The bill was the first time my heart skipped a beat inside a restaurant. Though I knew that Bar Boulud would be more casual, I still had high expectations of the food. It wasn’t quite what I expected Chef Boulud would put out and approve of.

Hearth

403 First Avenue corner of 12th Street
646/602.1300
about $80 each for four, with drinks, with tip
♥ ♥

I don’t think I’ve met a more sincere maitre d’ than the petite woman at Hearth. We didn’t have reservations when four of us stopped by. We were hoping to get seated at the kitchen pass, a first come-first served area where food is served omakase style. They had just seated another group a few minutes before we walked in but the maitre d’ let us have a table in the back.

The restaurant was buzzing at 8pm so service was a little too slow. It took about 15 minutes to get the chance to order our cocktails and another 15 to actually receive them. We waited another 20 to order our food. I finally waved to the bread guy to get the sommelier’s attention. We didn’t mind, though, because we were able to catch up with our friend from out of town. (The wine list comes with a lot of copy that can keep you entertained while waiting.)

We started with the New Zealand red snapper crudo with lemon, red pepper and some rosemary. They easily popped in our mouths and they were gone in less than 10 minutes. The fava beans and Pecorino salad was more substantial; the pepperoncini adding just a touch of brightness to the dish’s summer flavor. Our Dame Judi Dench vodkas cooled us down while we waited for our main dishes.

Our friend liked the tagliatelle with Laughing Bird shrimp, arugula and basil. But the other wasn’t a big fan of the pork belly (!) that came with the Berkshire pork loin, so I ended up picking from his plate. After all, there is nothing more sad than pork belly going to waste. The Dr. and I split the braised veal breast with sweetbreads, peas, carrots and Hen of the Woods mushrooms. We paired the dish with a side of very firm but tender gnocchi. It was hearty and earthy at the same time, and with the bottle of delicious Sao, we fast-forwarded to autumn.

Hearth reminds me of the early years of The Tasting Room when everything tasted simple. If I wasn’t still mourning the loss of the Alevras’ restaurant, I’d probably make room for Chef Marco Canora and Jordan Frosolone. But like any other Cia favorites, that comes with more than one visit.

Sweet Corn Soup with Vanilla Bean and Pancetta

Serita came back from Bali a couple of weeks ago and brought home fresh–and very fragrant–vanilla beans. I was able to get my hands on a few of them. I wouldn’t have thought about corn soup with vanilla if I didn’t have them, but once I did, I only imagined a soup that was velvety and smooth. I followed an existing vegetable soup recipe as my guide, but I added heavy cream to complement the milk that came from puréeing the corn kernels. To give it some extra body, I added mashed boiled potatoes. The corn was naturally sweet, so adding pancetta just rounded off the taste. It was the perfect balance of salty and sweet; a great appetizer for another Supper with Strangers.

Ingredients:
5 fresh corns on the cob, husk and silk peeled off
1 vanilla bean, scraped
2 potatoes, peeled, boiled, mashed
half a pint of heavy cream
1 tbsp sugar
a chunk of pancetta, chopped, fried until toasted
fresh nutmeg
salt

1. Steam corn for about 10 minutes. When cool enough to handle, slice off kernels into a sauce pot. Cook kernels with vanilla and mashed potatoes in low heat until combined. Mix in salt and sugar and stir well.
2. Transfer to a food processor and purée. Add a little heavy cream in batches until desired smooth consistency is reached. Feel free to add a little water if it’s too thick.
3. To serve, spoon corn soup in a bowl, sprinkle pancetta and grated nutmeg on top.

Roast Pork Tamales

Because I bought the roast pork to assemble these tamales, I’ll let you call me lazy. For our second Supper with Strangers, our featured ingredient was corn and we served mini roast pork tamales as amuse-bouches. How lucky was I to discover homemade pork stock from the Dr.’s fridge made from the leftover pig’s trotters I bought last week? (Thanks for letting me gloat.) Sure you can also use store-bought stock, but it made a difference here. Of course, if you roast your own pork, then you can save the stock when you boil the pork before roasting.

Even though the pork was store-bought, these tamales still required some work. I soaked the dried corn husks for about an hour before I sat down to assemble them, and when the husks weren’t quite pliable, I soaked them overnight. You can get masa harina from the Spanish or Mexican aisle of your grocery store or ask for the flour they use to make tortillas. It should be where the corn husks are if your store is organized.

Use a whole corn husk if you want to make your tamales bigger and obviously use a larger ball of masa and pork. If they’re bigger, then you can get away with just putting a heavy bowl over them to keep them closed until you’re ready to steam. If making extras for later, store in a resealable freezer bag and steam frozen for an extra 5 minutes.

Ingredients:
6 dried corn husks, rinsed clean, soaked in water overnight, dried with paper towel, halved
2 cups roast pork, shredded with a fork
2 cups masa harina
pork stock
half a stick of butter, melted in the microwave
chili powder
salt

1. Get your masa ready. In a large bowl, combine masa harina with the butter, chili powder, salt and some of the pork stock. Mix with your hands and pour in a little bit of the stock at a time until the consistency is spreadable.
2. Assemble the tamales. Starting with a spoonful of masa, mix in a bit of the shredded roast pork and make a small ball with your hands. Spread masa with pork on half a corn husk with your fingers. Fold sides until they just overlap and then fold the top and bottom flaps over. You can tear a thin strip of corn husk to use as a ribbon to tie each tamales close.
3. When ready to cook, boil some water in a large skillet. Steam tamales in a metal colander placed inside the skillet for 15 minutes, covered.