QUICK BITE: Greek Salad

QUICK BITE: Greek Salad

Greek salad: the term conjures up many things to many people. For some, it's a mainstay at U.S. Greek diners, usually pretty drab, or maybe huge with mediocre produce and too much over-salted supermarket feta cheese. But to others, it's a revelation, a composed salad, often lettuce-free, comprised of juicy, ripe tomatoes, thinly sliced red onions, slivers of crisp green pepper, and fresh cucumber slices, doused in delicious Greek olive oil and a splash of vinegar, topped with authentic sheep's milk feta cheese and dusted with fresh oregano. The really good ones include briny capers. These are the Greek salads of which I rhapsodize today.

In Greece, and particularly the islands of the Cyclades from which I write now, I often order these salads (or some version thereof) twice a day. When the tomatoes are grown in the rocky soil of Naxos or the volcanic soil of Santorini, their flavor is concentrated and they're unbelievably sweet, their thick skins pushed to bursting under the pressure of their turgid flesh.

The cucumbers are firm and heavy with water, their aromatic melon-musty goodness pairing with the bite of the red onion. And there is crisp vegetal tang of the green pepper, the salty feta from the milk of locally-roaming sheep and the capers that taste of the sea itself...

There's not much about a Greek salad that's complicated, but like most simple Mediterranean food, the dish is only as good as the quality of its components. Luckily for the Greeks (and all who eat there), farming still accounts for a nice chunk of the country's economy, and they're still growing things they've grown in this rich soil for millennia. The tomatoes we enjoyed in Koufonissi (at right), in the small Cyclades, came from the island of Naxos nearby, where a lot of farming for the surrounding smaller islands is done.

They were some of the best tomatoes I've had in recent memory -- which is saying a lot, coming from a Jersey girl who lived in Italy for nearly a decade! The local cheese in Koufonissi, which was often used in place of feta, is called mithizra, and it's fluffy and fresh, what you'd get if a tangy Greek feta and a creamy ricotta had a cheese baby! This was also used on a variation of a Greek salad with Cretan roots -- chopped tomatoes and red onions with the cheese and lots of capers served over hardened pieces of Cretan dark grain bread, moistened with a liberal dousing of local olive oil. It's topped off with plenty of dried oregano. And it's delicious. Again, simple with top-quality primary ingredients. It's the way that people in this corner of the world have been living long, healthy lives for thousands of years. And the gorgeous view doesn't hurt, either.

RECIPE: L'Amatriciana, In Honor of Amatrice

Italy is dealing with a natural disaster of grave proportions right now. Again. The earthquake that struck central Italy in the areas of Rieti and Amatrice has devastated several beautiful and charming hill towns (of which there seem to be countless iterations peppered throughout Lazio, Umbria, Abruzzo, and Le Marche). These are the core of Italy's charming and historic central regions that span from the Tyrrhenian Sea in the west to the Adriatic on the east coast. In a country obscenely rich in tourist attractions of every variety, these smaller towns often get overlooked by many travelers -- often to the delight of local residents. These hill towns, somewhat unfortunately, are nestled in the Apennine mountains, which are essentially the geological spine of Italy, and run along a fault line where Eurasian and African tectonic plates meet. So, as we saw seven years ago in L'Aquila, activity along these fault lines can be disastrous, and deadly. The images of Amatrice before and after, for example, are sad and humbling.

I've spent plenty of time in these central regions of Italy, as friends have houses in the countryside from Lazio to Umbria, from southern-central Tuscany over to Ascoli-Piceno in Le Marche. I've attended countless sagre (food and wine festivals) in these parts, traveled through mountainous, winding roads, often in search of a great little restaurant off the beaten path. My memories of these parts, and the people here, are numerous, and fond.

So it was heartbreaking last week that I was receiving play-by-play texts from friends a little too close for comfort to the epicenter of the earthquake, experiencing very scary after-shocks. And what saddened me to no end is the reality that last weekend was supposed to be the 50th annual sagra (festival) of Amatrice's most famous (namesake) dish, pasta all'amatriciana.

I know many restaurants, both in Italy and in America, are helping out victims and towns that suffered heavy damages in the earthquake by donating a portion of their sales of pasta all'amatriciana to Italy's red cross. And that's great, but I don't have a restaurant and all I can do is encourage others to donate as much and as often as possible.

As comfort, I can instruct and share my recipe for my favorite Roman pasta dish. It's one that I turn to time and again, and it happens to be best at this time of year, when tomatoes are at their sweetest and most flavorful.

A little note: guanciale is THE meat of choice in Roman pasta dishes. It may not always be possible to find it, but I promise you the search for authentic ingredients will always pay off. Pancetta (unsmoked bacon) can be used in a pinch, but guanciale is cured pork jowl, and the flavor is much more unctuous and distinctive. It does, in fact, go a long way towards making a good amatriciana into a great amatriciana. And so, without further delay, my trusted recipe for this Roman classic...

BUCATINI ALL’AMATRICIANA (4-6 people)

This is one of a few quintessential Roman pasta dishes. You’ll find as many different versions as there are trattorie in Rome: some prefer the guanciale soft, some crispy; some prefer a thin sauce, some a more chunky, hearty tomato sauce; some use any short pasta, others insist on the thick hollow spaghetti known as bucatini. Here is the version I prefer after years and years of trial, revision, and much animated discussion among my Roman friends. But 2 things are a must for the integrity of the dish: 1.) the meat must be guanciale, cured pork jowl and not any old pancetta, and 2.) the cheese must be the sharp, salty pecorino romano, not the more common parmigiano reggiano.

3-4 TBS. extra-virgin olive oil

1 small red onion, finely diced

¼ lb. Thickly sliced guanciale, cut into small strips

3 cups canned San Marzano tomatoes, or equal amount of fresh plum tomatoes

Pinch of red pepper flakes

Salt & pepper to taste

1 lb. bucatini (or pasta of choice)

1/2 cup grated pecorino romano cheese

-Bring a large pot of water to a boil.

-Heat a large skillet over medium heat, and add the guanciale or pancetta, cooking until crisp. Remove from pan and set aside.

-Add the olive oil to the rendered pork fat and once heated, add the onion and saute until translucent, about 3 minutes.

-Add the tomato and season with salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes.

-Cook, uncovered, over medium heat for 7-8 minutes, stirring occasionally.

-Add a generous toss of salt to the boiling water, and cook the bucatini until tender but firm, al dente.

-Remove pasta from the water with tongs, or drain in a colander and add it to the pan.

-Return cooked guanciale or pancetta to saucepan.

-Turn pasta to coat, add the pecorino, and turn to mix thoroughly.Add a glug of olive oil if needed. There should be a sheen to the pasta.

-Serve at once.

To donate to the italian red cross, start here:

http://www.cri.it/home

http://www.ifrc.org/en/get-involved/donate/

SEASONAL FOODS: Cherries

Is there a fruit happier than the bright red cherry? It decorates flirty dresses and bags, tops sundaes, plops in fizzy drinks like the Shirley Temple. And at the same time, is there a fruit more luscious and seemingly forbidden, aching to be popped off of its stem and into your mouth, leaving a wine-dark juicy stain in its wake? I won't get into the cherry as euphemism, but suffice it to say cherries are a beloved fruit, versatile in both sweet and savory preparations, and an absolutely delicious seasonal food. And, bonus: cherries happen to be great for you.

First, a little history. Cherries and cherry trees as we know them are native to the temperate regions of the northern hemisphere, with several species in the U.S., a handful in Europe, and the remainder in Asia. The cultivated cherry (as well as fellow stone fruit, the apricot), is recorded as having been brought to Rome by Lucius Licinius Lucullus from northeastern Anatolia (also known as the Pontus region, or Asia Minor) -- most of modern day Turkey's Asian land, in 72 BC.

Today, Turkey is still the number one producer of cherries in the world, with the U.S. as number two, followed by Iran, Italy, and Spain in 3rd, 4th, and 5th positions worldwide. In America, sweet cherries (prunus avium) are grown mostly in the western part of the country -- Washington, Oregon, and California. Tart cherries (prunus cerasus) are grown mostly in Michigan, Utah, and again Washington state. (Anyone who has bought cherries in supermarkets in the U.S. has seen the widespread domination of Washington state cherries -- and rightly so. They're delicious!)

As for nutritional value and benefits, sweet cherries are rich in beta carotene, potassium (a blood pressure reducer), and vitamin C. One serving of sweet cherries (about 1 cup) contains 90 calories and 3 grams of fiber. The catechins and flavanals in cherries contribute to the fruit's healthfulness as well.

Cherries are rich in anthocyanins and quercetin, bioactive compounds which studies indicate may work in synergy to combat cancer. This power pairing may also prevent some genetic mutations that can lead to cancer, and keep cancerous cells in check -- particularly breast, colon, prostate, and lung cancers. They are also anti-inflammatory, and provide cardiovascular benefits as well as mild fat-burning capabilities. (Note: tart cherries contain these elements but sweet cherries contain three times as many, found in the cherry's skin). And, the riper the better, as darker, ripened cherries contain more antioxidants.

Cherries also help with gout, a form of arthritis caused by an excess of uric acid in the blood which causes inflammation and swelling. Growing research shows that consuming cherries (both sweet and tart), and drinking tart cherry juice, lowers uric acid and inflammation. In the same way, cherries' anti-inflammatory properties ease joint pain as well as muscle soreness. Good news for those watching their sugar intake: cherries have among the lowest glycemic index (22) and glycemic load (3) values of all fruit. And, since tart cherries are rich in melatonin, a compound that regulates the body's natural sleep-wake patterns, the fruit and its juice act as natural sleep aids and improve the quality of that sleep.

Before you drift off to dreamland, though, let's discuss the fun stuff: that is, all the ways in which delicious cherries can be consumed! We all know and love cherry pie, which just may be second only to apple as the most American of pies. (The George Washington-cherry tree legend also reinforces the fruit's American appeal).

There are many forms of desserts, pies and pastries that are excellent with cherries, including tarts and crostate, cherry clafoutis, black forest cake, and cherries jubilee. But cherries also work wonderfully in savory dishes, sauces, and even cocktails. From the oxblood bing cherries to the yellow-blush Ranier cherries, look for a firm skin without blemishes, and a green stem as a sign of freshness.

Cherries happen to pair well with meats, and make a wonderful sauce for duck breast, seen here with a cherry port sauce. Cherries add a fruity note to a barbeque sauce in place of the tomato base found in many bbq sauces. Pitted diced cherries also make an interesting base for a salsa. I like to make one with red onions, chopped pistachios, fresh mint and basil, which I pair with grilled meats and sausages in the summertime. 

I also make an interesting savory pasta dish with cherries: first I prepare a veal ragu in bianco, meaning there are no tomatoes in this ragu, simply onions/celery/carrots. I cook the the veal ragu for a coupe of hours over low heat, and at the end, while I'm cooking the pasta, I toss in some chopped cherries along with some freshly chopped sage or rosemary, parsley and chives. It may sound strange, but it's one of the best pasta dishes in my repertoire. 

Of course, cherries are great as a plain old fruit, and as a part of fruit salads and plates. Served cold, they pair really well with melons. As for drinks, I love a sour cherry spritzer, because not only are they refreshing, but they're also helpful in regulating my sleep patterns. I love cherries with mint, so they're a natural in a summery mojito. 

And they also work well with dark liquors, so using cherry syrup or fresh dark cherries smashed with some bourbon or whiskey topped with club soda and a lime is good when you're in the mood for something with a real kick. Kirsch is a cherry liqueur delicious on its own and as a part of many mixed drinks. And of course, the original cocktail fruit was the maraschino cherry, an integral part in many classic cocktails recipes. Finally, let's not forget the beloved chocolate covered cherry. The classic is a cherry set inside a chocolate shell, and when you bite into it, the syrup in which it sets oozes out. I love a good cherry-chocolate pairing, but my preference is for a rich, baked chocolate mousse cake. In my version, a mousse-like chocolate cake batter is baked and then topped with an almond-scented whipped cream, and finished off with dark chocolate-dipped fresh sweet cherries. It's decadent, and dark, and perfectly sinful: just how I like my desserts.

QUICK BITE: The Milanese

Back in the days when I was toiling away in the kitchen at San Domenico NY, we used to have some regular VIP clients who would come in and order "off menu" as it's called -- requesting favorite dishes that were neither daily specials, nor a part of the restaurant's written menu. These items are usually part of the culinary canon that the restaurant represents. In the case of San Domenico, it was Italian classics, mostly hailing from the north of Italy, like our executive chef. Our most (in)famous VIP client to order off-menu was one Signor Bulgari, of the world-renowned, Rome-based Bulgari jewelry house.

Bulgari holds a special place in the hearts of Romans, in particular. The brand is known for its impressive jewels and even more impressive price tags. I've heard, on any number of occasions, Romans referring to something that was shockingly expensive as being Bulgari: as in, "so I picked up these little Sicilian tomatoes and a bag of organic arugula da Bulgari..." It is Roman slang for saying that the precious gem of an item you purchased was paid for through the nose...but probably worth the indulgence.

So, the irony of cooking for Signor Bulgari, off-menu, making his favorite dishes -- a big plate of sliced San Daniele prosciutto, a dish of Maria's famous caponata, and a platter-sized, paper-thin pounded veal Milanese topped with the aforementioned gorgeous cherry tomatoes and arugula -- was not lost on me. The fact that he would boorishly push open the swinging doors to the kitchen from the dining room, asking where his food was after having to wait an entire ten minute stretch, post-order, and that he'd fight the waiter on the bill claiming overcharge on most visits, is just the icing on the torta: the man whose surname is synonymous with pricey didn't like to pay our prices on his special orders. Ha. But luckily, we always knew when he was coming. Forewarned is forearmed. And after a perfectly-prepared Milanese, all is right with the world. Even with Signor Bulgari.

The Milanese is a go-to meal of mine at home, as well. It's comfort food in cooler months, just on its own with some hearty side dishes, but it's at its best now: as in, during the summer months when the tomatoes are bursting with sweetness and taste of the sun, and the peppery bite of the arugula is matched by that of the olive oil drizzled atop this salad, which is then cut with some real balsamic vinegar from Modena. That's the stuff, right there. The veal (or chicken, or turkey) is pounded extra thin, dusted with flour and dipped in organic eggs, and the breading -- this is key -- is a mix of bread crumbs, panko, herbs, and grated parmigiano cheese, which forms a thin, molded crust and keeps the meat juicy within. You need to cut this with a steak knife because it deserves precision. This should not be torn or shredded, but treated with reverence. Because it's deceptively simple, and when prepared well, like most Italian classics, the Milanese is a thing of beauty.

RECIPES: Ghanaian-Inspired Yellowtail Snapper

It started with a conversation to alleviate the drudgery of prep work in the kitchen of San Domenico NY many years ago. I was filleting some black bass, methodically removing pin bones, careful not to stick myself with the spiky fins (as I'd done before, which caused my entire hand to blow up to twice its size and sent me to an emergency doctor. Fun!) When doing prep work in the kitchen, I sometimes asked one of the dishwashers to help me, because they were friendly and fun and they were interested in cooking professionally some day. My attitude was always "the more the merrier" when in came to kitchen work. So I started chatting with Mbulli, the Ghanaian dishwasher who was helping me with my task. And we started discussing fishing, and fish preparation. So I asked him how he might prepare a whole fish like the sea bass we were working on that day -- or any fish he might have at home in Ghana -- and he told me, very simply. "I would make it with chilies, and citrus like orange, and cilantro." And that stuck with me. I always thought that idea sounded fantastically refreshing, and I vowed to myself to make that preparation one day.

A decade and a half later, on a recent trip to see my family in south Florida, I was out fishing with my younger brother -- quite an accomplished recreational fisherman -- on his new boat, along with his fishing buddy James. We went out late afternoon in the early summer, as the sun cast a pinkish glow on the water and the humidity broke just enough to make the July air tolerable. 

And though the catch wasn't as bountiful as we might have hoped, it did yield us a gaggle of very delicious, fresh fish, including three decent-sized yellowtail snappers -- a local fish I adore. Normally, we'd take the fish home and either make a ceviche or sushi out of it, if the particular fish was best enjoyed raw. Or, we'd cook it either simply fried or pan sauteed with accompanying veggie sides. But on this occasion, I was headed back to New York the following day, and the fish would keep if I carried them back on ice in a cooler...which is exactly what I did. My brother and his friend had been patient with me when seasickness relegated me to a beanbag on board, sniffing mint to quell my nausea: they caught the fish and insisted I take the catch. So I told them that the yellowtail were destined for a preparation about which I'd been daydreaming since that afternoon in the San Domenico kitchen. I would invite some friends over and attempt to make Ghanaian-inspired yellowtail snapper.

Back in my Manhattan kitchen, I set to making a dinner for a hot New York City summer night (perfectly authentic to the climate in which this dish might be consumed)! I paired the fish, roasted whole quite simply with salt and pepper and a little oil, with a sauce I made on the side. The ingredients are simple: orange, jalapeno and scotch bonnet chiles, garlic, shallot, and cilantro. I added a splash of vinegar and lime juice and that's pretty much it. I paired it with coconut rice, and some balsamic-honey roasted carrots, and laid the fish on some watercress. It was spicy, and delicious, and has now officially become a part of my fresh fish repertoire. Thank you, Mbulli!

GHANAIAN-INSPIRED YELLOWTAIL SNAPPER

Serves: 4-6
Remember to handle the chile peppers with gloves on, to avoid burning face, eyes, mouth, etc.

2-3 small whole yellowtail snappers, approx 3-5 pounds, gutted, scaled, and cleaned
5 oranges, cut into supremed segments
4 cloves garlic, chopped finely
1 scotch bonnet chile, seeded and veined, and sliced finely
1 jalapeno pepper (or other mild chile pepper), sliced finely
1 large shallot, finely minced
1 lime: zest and juice
2 TBSP. white balsamic or red wine vinegar

- In a cast iron skillet or on a roasting pan lined with parchment paper -- either one lined with a shmear of canola oil -- place the whole fishes, which have been seasoned with salt and pepper to taste. (You can also stuff the bellies with fresh herbs like parsley and cilantro, as well as slices of citrus, if desired). If cooking in the skillet, sear fish on one side over medium-high heat, for about 5 minutes, and then flip them and place into a 325 degree oven for another 20-25 minutes. If placing directly on a roasting pan, place into that same oven but add 5-10 minutes of cooking time.

- Meanwhile, In a saute pan, place all the remaining ingredients together and simmer over medium-low heat until the flavors begin to meld, about 10 minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste.

- When the fish is done cooking through, you will be able to easily pull out the pelvic fin -- the little bony fin underneath the fish, in front of its belly. You can also try sticking a small, sharp knife into the thickest part of the fish and if the blade comes out warm to the touch, the fish should be done as well. The entire fish should be firm.

- Serve the fish whole on a platter with the orange-cilantro-chile sauce on the side. This pairs nicely with a rice made with coconut milk, roasted vegetables, and a crisp green like watercress.

ESCAPES: L.A. Eats Part 2: Beverly Hills, Brentwood, Santa Monica & Venice

We're not talking cutting edge here. This is a dining round-up comprised of restaurants that have been open for quite some time now. So it may not be about the latest iteration of avocado toast from Sqirl or the hottest new entry from the Animal guys. But we are talking about beautiful food, innovative food, and in other cases just simple, soulful food done well: five examples of restaurants in L.A., center and west to Santa Monica and Venice Beach, each offering their own spin on dining as people-pleasing experience.

The Getty Center itself is an amazing spot where one can both escape and overlook the city. The architecture and design of the grounds is reason enough to visit, regardless of what's on exhibit within these curved, soaring walls.

The gardens and landscaping are another draw, and the setting on high makes this day trip-worthy. But best of all, particularly if you're a lover of expertly-prepared, refined cuisine in gorgeous spaces? The Restaurant at the Getty Center. Here, I enjoyed lunch in the sun-soaked dining room with my former-pastry chef, always-culinarily curious-friend Deb.

We feasted on a light, modern bouillabaisse, beautifully stacked in a shallow bowl.

We tucked into a rich but light cannelloni with ricotta, laced with carrots and squash blossoms and enoki mushrooms, topped with fresh greens. And we went for one dessert between the two of us, because really, how could we not try at least a little something sweet? 

Our choice was a tempting, moist banana cake and mousse topped with caramelized bananas and drenched in a decadent dark chocolate sauce. We were definitely slowed down after the lunch, but we'd been smart to see most of the museum and its grounds before digging in, so all we really needed to do was wander through one wing looking at photos, before heading home for an afternoon nap.

The airy dining room of the Restaurant at the Getty Center

Next up? No trip to modern day L.A.'s food world would be complete without a stop at Jose Andres's The Bazaar. The place is surreal. You walk into the hotel lobby of the SLS Beverly Hills, designed by Phillipe Starck, and immediately feel like you've been swept away through the Looking Glass into a bizarre-o Wonderland for food chemists and tinkerers. And essentially, that's what Andres is.

Like Ferran Adria' before him (who was also a mentor), Andres plays with his food, but in the most refined and delightful way, fully bringing all the senses together to taste, smell, see, feel. Only a chef with a sense of humor, playfulness, and confidence would serve the puffed sugar air that is cotton candy, and use it on his savory menu, to encapsulate a nugget of foie gras within.

The menu is peppered with quotation marks and asterisks. Mussels are "en escabeche," there is a deconstructed Philly cheese steak that becomes thinly sliced raw or lightly-seared wagyu beef on cheesy "pillow bread", and even the most ubiquitous of classic Spanish dishes, the torta espanola (basically a thick egg frittata loaded with potatoes and onion) is re-imagined as a tortilla de patatas "new way" with potato foam, something called egg 63, and caramelized onions.

And of course, there are the olives served three ways -- one of which is famously liquefied and then encapsulated in an olive skin-like skin. Though it's now a standard dish in the molecular gastronomy canon, it still thrills to bite into the "olive". We skipped the basics in the cheese and jamon categories (of top quality, I'm sure, but there is more exciting eating to be done here), and went for the slightly exotic dishes, along with ones that just sounded plain delicious. I loved the twists on Spanish and Mediterranean food, like the examples above, plus any iteration of ceviche/tartare/raw fish deliciousness always makes me giddy when I know I'm in great chef hands.

The meal ended up being a feast for the taste buds and we stuffed ourselves to the gills -- though not before being redirected to the dessert bar for a super-sweet ending to the meal. The place looked like something out of Willy Wonka or "The Nutcracker" -- it was over-the-top in its confectionery pastel wonder. We stumbled out after dessert in a diabetic coma that overtook any of the bubbly we consumed with dinner! It was a great experience and something in which we all should partake at least once.

I headed out to Venice Beach because it was a new experience for me (fortunate enough to have seen Venice, Italy countless times before I'd ever seen the Californian version!), and because my cousin was playing a music gig out there: motivation to make the trek west. We walked the coastline, noting the kitschy surf shops, spotting "Muscle Beach" made famous in the 1980s, and passed many a hawker of medical marijuana cards asking us if we suffered from headaches, wink wink.

We finally settled in to meet up with another local friend of mine from our days in Rome. We had beers on the beach as the sun lowered in the sky, and eventually went to dinner at a decades-old standby for Mexican(ish) food -- not, as the name might imply, Moroccan cuisine -- called Casablanca.

As in white house. But mostly named after the movie. Confusing, I know. Anyway, the place is famous for their awesomely potent margaritas, shaken and mixed in front of you from the guy with the margarita cart.

There were also a few older Mexican ladies making homemade tortillas for diners to watch. (The whole city of L.A. knows something about showmanship). The obligatory mariachi band was there too, of course.

We enjoyed the standards of Mexican menus in America -- guacamole and freshly-fried crispy tortilla chips and salsa, enchiladas with refried beans and rice, and seafood and veggie fajitas. They were all very decent versions of these standards, and we left satisfied and fortified for my cousin's performance, which was (of course) fab. I was able to see the charms of living on the "west side," as locals call it, with access to the coast line and all of the lazy living (in the best way) that goes along with it.

In Santa Monica, there are lots of offerings. Sushi Roku is a modern, Americanized (but not too much) Japanese restaurant specializing in fun, original sushi, sashimi, and maki. I always ask my L.A. friends if we can go there one night for dinner, because I still hold steadfast to the belief that sushi is better on the U.S. west coast. Something about the Pacific shared with Japan, I suppose. The dining room is funky, modern Asian chic and the menu is full of interesting flavor combinations, both for raw fish lovers, and those who only order off of the "cooked" menu at a Japanese restaurant. It's hard not to over-order as my eyes always seem to be bigger than my stomach here.

Of the same ilk, but in West Hollywood -- and therefore a bit more dressy-appointment dining, is KOI. Like half of the places in this neighborhood, we have one in New York (two, actually). But again, the west coast thing with sushi. And this mini-chain of restaurants has outposts as far-flung as Bangkok and Abu Dhabi. As expected, the Asian-inflected cocktails here are delicious. And then, this is the kind of place where you order champagne to drink throughout the meal, just because. We indulged in tartares and lobster tacos, shishito and edamame, and sushi galore. Whatever specials they were featuring, we ordered them. We were half a dozen women who wanted to try everything! The only thing was, they were going home after dinner, and I was meeting another college friend of mine for a late night out on the Sunset Strip, heading to music clubs and terrace bars galore. It was a long one, but it was my final night in L.A., and I wanted to make it last.

The Restaurant at The Getty Center

1200 Getty Center Drive

Los Angeles, CA90049

(310) 440.6810

www.getty.edu

The Bazaar by Jose' Andres

465 South La Cienega Boulevard

Los Angeles, CA  90048

(310) 246.5555

www.thebazaar.com/beverly-hills

Sushi Roku

1401 Ocean Ave
Santa Monica, CA 90401
(310) 458.4771
www.innovativedining.com/restaurants/sushiroku

Koi
730 N. La Cienega Blvd.
West Hollywood, CA90069
(310) 659.9449
www.koirestaurant.com

Casablanca
220 Lincoln Blvd.
Venice, CA90291
(310) 392.5751
www.casablancarestaurant.net

QUICK BITE: Delicious Equation: Veg + Nut + Fruit

It's a simple matter of addition: this + this + that = maximum deliciousness. For side dishes -- and increasingly, for vegetable-based dishes that stand on their own, without a protein "main" -- my formula is pretty simple. Just remember this:

Vegetable + Nut + Fruit

That's all. Quite simple. But the way in which you can use your imagination, the colors of the spectrum, the seasons, local ingredients, even items that are only around for a few weeks a year...this is what keeps the formula interesting. And, it's what keeps your palate alive and happy!

This formula always works for a composed salad. The example at left is a mixed greens salad topped with roasted beets (veg), hazelnuts (nut), and roasted grape tomatoes (fruit!). Other favorites include the classic mesclun with walnuts (or pecans...toasted, or candied), blue cheese, and pears or apples. And we can't leave out my Sicilian favorite salad of shaved fennel, blood orange, and olive salad, made better by the addition of almonds or pine nuts. Actually, anybody who knows me (and how eggplant-crazy I am!) knows that my favorite Sicilian ANYthing is caponata, which of course abides by this veg+nut+fruit rule: eggplant and other vegetables married with olives (yes, a fruit) and raisins and pine nuts. Which brings me to another point: any vegetable or vegetable medley made in the Sicilian/Jewish-Italian vein, which almost always includes the originally-Arab pairing of raisins and pine nuts, automatically adheres to the above principal.

Sauteed Roman greens -- chicory or spinach or any kind of bitter or wilted green, served with raisins and pine nuts...check. Fits the equation. That's right: maximum deliciousness. And yes, one of my favorite all-time salads and items of Vietnamese fare, the shredded cabbage-chicken-pomelo salad qualifies, as it's sprinkled with either roasted peanuts or sesame seeds. And damn, is it tasty!

So, an addendum: seeds can be stand-ins for actual nuts. They're usually just as healthy, and can sometimes lend a subtler touch to a dish. So sprinkle in the sesame and sunflower seeds, plop on the pepitas and the poppy seeds -- you'll up the ante on flavor, texture, and nutrition. Those dishes with a riot of color usually contain the most vitamins, minerals, nutrients, antioxidants, and flavor. What's become a real crowd favorite of my dishes? The more exotic and colorful of my creations are gaining in popularity, and with good reason. My Moroccan salad of organic roasted rainbow carrots and beets with Moroccan-spiced vinaigrette, mint, parsley, pomegranate, and nigella seeds is refreshing for summer.

And I'm loving charred brussels sprouts with a Persian touch: with pistachios and pomegranate arils tossed in an olive oil and pomegranate molasses glaze. Half the fun is in experimentation. The other half? Eating! (Experimentation + Eating = Tasty Fun).

Class dismissed. Now, go play around in the kitchen and make some delicious veggie dishes to start the summer off on the right (healthy) foot. Happy Memorial Day, everybody! (and buon estate to my lovely Italians!)

Posted by Dana Klitzberg at Thursday, May 26, 2016

RESTAURANT REVIEW: Mistral - Princeton, NJ

I grew up in the area around Princeton, New Jersey -- an ivy league town with mostly bush league restaurants. Princeton excelled (and still does) at good old-fashioned American college grub. Chuck's Spring Street Cafe has always had some of the best buffalo wings on the planet. Hoagie Haven has been the cheap go-to spot for hoagies and cheese steaks and various late-night drunk foods, for decades. And Thomas Sweets is the sentimental favorite for ice cream concoctions. But when it comes to fine dining, there's always been a dearth of destinations, especially considering the fact that Princeton is a top university town, smack between the food metropolises of New York City and Philadelphia, and the community has a lot of wealth. But apparently, not the most exciting palates. 

I'm happy to report that there's been a wonderful addition to Princeton's dining scene, and it's called Mistral. It's not brand new -- it's been open for more than five years now. But that's time enough to prove it's not going anywhere, that it's found a home in this central New Jersey town. The project began as an outgrowth of another local newcomer-hotspot, Elements, which opened in 2008. Executive Chef Scott Anderson is an autodidact who spent part of his youth in Japan and worked in the kitchen of one of New Jersey's top dining destinations, The Ryland Inn. The Chef de Cuisine Ben Nerenhausen also grew up overseas, in Pakistan and Egypt, followed by college in Wisconsin, Culinary school in San Francisco, and a stint as sous chef at the famed Restaurant at Meadowood in Napa, where he met Anderson. The chefs' excellent techniques are apparent, and their food is clearly informed by their time outside the U.S., with heavy Asian (particularly Japanese) and Mediterranean influences on the eclectic menu. 

Atmosphere: The setting here is comfy and somewhat cozy, a cross between ski chalet in B.C. or the Swiss alps and a Japanese mountain spa. Lots of natural materials dominate in wood, slate and stone. There is now an outdoors dining room contained within a walled area with a long and narrow gas fireplace in cooler months. The dishware is mostly a collection of hand-thrown ceramic ware with rustic, earth-toned glazes which perfectly complement the food style. There's an open kitchen in the main dining room, for those who like to watch their meals being created and plated. (Personally, as a chef, I loathe an open kitchen, so I tend not to watch out of sympathy for the chefs working).

Food and drink: As stated, the dishes run the gamut from Mediterranean influences (Italian, Moroccan, Spanish, French, and Middle Eastern) to Asian (Japanese predominantly, but sometimes Korean, Thai, and Indian flavors find their way onto the menu). These are plates mostly made for sharing -- not in a "small plates restaurant" kind of way that can bug me beyond belief, but in an "I need to try all of these dishes" kind of way -- and the result is a meal that feels interactive. As my Dad says after each visit, "It's a really fun way to eat dinner!": to the point, and I agree. Mistral used to be a BYO establishment, but now they have a small but interesting wine, beer, and cocktail list...and a new bar next door, to boot (something that's very exciting for the sleepy, decidedly un-hopping bar scene in this college town).

The food is too varied to explain it simply, or to do it justice, and the menu changes seasonally and is constantly evolving, so what I highlight here may not be available again. But I will say that far more dishes are hits than are misses (and the misses are never failures, they're just perhaps not as interesting or exciting as I might have hoped given my high standards for the place). So herewith, a collection of the eclectic dishes I've enjoyed at Mistral...
 

Falafel salad, black sesame, sprouted grains, carrots.

Charred squid, green curry, coconut, peanuts, puffed rice.
 

Roasted sweetbreads, gnocchi, corn, chanterelles, black truffle.
 

Charred hanger steak, beets, bone marrow, dried currants.

Cornmeal bucatini, shrimp sausage, egg, and herbs.
 

Short rib, scallions, sticky rice.

I've always been so eager to try so many dishes that I've never had room for dessert! Servers bring a plate of brown butter biscotti with the bill, and you can always wander just around the corner to the Halo Pub for some old-fashioned ice cream.
 
MISTRAL
66 Witherspoon Street
Princeton, NJ08542
609.688.8808
http://www.mistralprinceton.com/

 

Posted by Dana Klitzberg at Friday, May 06, 2016

HOLIDAYS: Passover + Pesce en Saor Recipe

Venice: La Serenissima, the only city in the world with streets of water, where we're made to slow down the pace. It's home to delicious seafood and fresh veggies pulled from and grown in the briny waters of the lagoon. And, it's the birthplace of the term ghetto (based on the Venetian dialect term for foundry, original site of the neighborhood that became the ghetto...also gettare in Italian means to toss aside, throw out, which is essentially what happened to the Venetian Jews).

This ghetto was created for Jews in the 16th century and has morphed into terminology for an area into which a specific ethnic or racial group is pushed, isolated. This original ghetto separated the Jews from the rest of the Venetian population, but it also allowed, on some level, for the city's Jewish population to insulate itself and strengthen its traditions, though perhaps not into a singular Venetian Jewish community -- as evidenced by the five different diminutive synagogues in the neighborhood, catering to Italian, German, Levantine, Portuguese-Spanish, and French Jews practicing in Venice. 

Venice was truly a city at the crossroads of the spice trade and was the hub of trade routes between the east and the west for centuries before the ghetto was created. Jews were a vibrant and integral part of trade and banking for centuries in the middle ages and early Renaissance, and then once the Inquisition started driving Jews out of Spain and Portugal, many settled in Venice, and its Jewish population grew. So, on March 29th, 1516, the Venetian Jewish ghetto was established, more or less to keep the Jews "in check." Their movement about the city was limited and there were curfews set in the evenings, as entry points on the water were blocked and guarded by Venetian security men in boats. And while this was certainly oppressive and limiting, Jewish cuisine in Venice still flourished. So much of what we think of simply as "Venetian food" or "Roman specialties" or "Sicilian cuisine" originated in the kitchen of Jewish Italians. Artichokes, eggplant, and squash and pumpkins are all examples of food items that were not eaten by non-Jews, even up until the 19th century in many cases. Now it's difficult to imagine Italian cuisine without these items.

One of the signature flavor profiles of typically Jewish-Italian dishes is the element of sweet and sour, or agrodolce, in Italian. This comes from the pairing of vinegar and sugar (and honey well before sugar was widely available in Europe). The use of vinegar to preserve food is a classically Jewish one, because no work is allowed to be done on the sabbath, so all the food for sabbath meals needs to be prepared in advance -- and so the dishes are often served cool or at room temperature, having been cooked the day before. This happy coincidence allows for the flavors to develop, resulting in an even-more-delicious dish eaten a day or two after it was prepared. The sugar added to the vinegar is simply to cut the acidity of the vinegar (or citrus juice, or wine). Pesce en saor is Venice's shining example of a practically-conceived dish in the Jewish cuisine canon, going mainstream (pun intended). 

This dish is often made with sardines and called sarde en saor -- it's on most Venetian trattoria menus -- but it can be made with any fish fillets, really, though more oily fish like Spanish mackerel are suited to the sweet-and-sour preparation (they're also good for you, with lots of Omega-3s). A typical pairing would be with polenta, soft if you're making it and serving right away, or made a day in advance, cut into squares, and either served cold or grilled before serving. The addition of carrots and celery is optional, as is the choice of red or white onions. But the raisins and pine nuts are key to matching the sweet and sour flavors of the dish, and add texture and interest. it's the perfect make-ahead dish for Passover, and serves as an interesting substitute for gefilte fish on the American/Ashkenazi Passover table. Try it this year -- you may do as the Venetians have done, and incorporate the dish into your personal repertoire of favorites. HAPPY PASSOVER!

PESCE EN SAOR

(6 servings)

1 whole fish (about 2 pounds), cleaned, or 1.5 pounds fish fillets -- Spanish mackerel is a nice choice

½ cup red wine vinegar

3 tbs. sugar

1 onion, thinly sliced into half moons

2 small carrots, thinly sliced into a thick julienne or shavings

1 celery stalk, sliced into thin Vs

½ cup toasted pine nuts

½ cup raisins, plumped in hot water

6 tbs. extra-virgin olive oil

salt & pepper to taste

- In a small bowl, stir together vinegar, sugar, pine nuts, and a little of the raisin plumping water. Set aside.

- Warm 2 tbs. of the olive oil in a large saute’ pan over medum heat. Sprinkle the fish with salt just before placing it in the saute’ pan. Saute’ until golden brown. Flip and brown on the other side.

- Remove fish from pan, add 2 more tbs. olive oil, and saute the onions and carrots an celery in the pan until softened, about 4 minutes.

- Add the vinegar mixture, cover, and cook over medium heat until the fish is done – about 10 minutes for a whole fish and 5 minutes for fillets.

- Transfer to a platter and serve warm or, better yet, the next day at room temperature.

* This dish pairs really well with polenta squares, grilled or pan-seared.

Posted by Dana Klitzberg at Friday, April 22, 2016

SEASONAL FOOD: Agretti

They're not center-stage like artichokes are in and around Rome. But when I see those bright green, grassy bunches of agretti in the markets, I know it's springtime again in The Eternal City. Known in English as saltwort or friar’s beard, or barilla plant – or “land seaweed”, in Japan – agretti can cause stampedes in the markets of central Italy as locals make a run for the bunches of crunchy, grass-like leaves. A Mediterranean native, agretti (Salsola soda, in Latin) were first cultivated as a source of soda ash, which plays a key role in glass and soap making (and an important element in Murano's famous glass-blowing tradition for the wine goblets and chandeliers of the grand Venetian palaces). Then as alternative methods of extracting soda ash were discovered in the 19th century, agretti entered the culinary realm to become a seasonal niche food among peasants in Lazio and Umbria, central Italy.

Saltwort is a succulent shrub and a halophyte -- a salt-tolerant plant -- native to the Mediterranean basin, and can be irrigated with saltwater or fresh. Agretti are harvested in bunches when small, or cropped to encourage new growth among mature plants. Most commonly, they're lightly boiled and then served warm, room temp, or cold -- with some olive oil and lemon. Much like samphire, or sea asparagus (asparagi di mare), they shouldn't be overcooked, so that some crunch remains to the green. In flavor, agretti are somewhat comparable to spinach, but livelier and with a slightly more verdant bite, half way to chives, without the onion-y, allium aftertaste. They can be eaten raw as well, and can also be used almost like an herb, as chives might be. 

Romans love their greens, so like the ubiquitous and delicious cicoria (chicory leaves) in cooler months and other springtime specialties like wild asparagus, agretti can be spotted from markets to trattorie to the most refined ristoranti in Italy's capital city, and outside in the hills of Lazio. As for pairings, agretti are excellent mixed with eggs, in springtime frittate with other spring veggies like fava beans and fresh peas.

Of course, the classic Italian way to utilize any fresh, seasonal item at the market is to either A.) saute it in a pan with a little garlic and olive oil, and a squeeze of lemon, or 2.) toss it with some pasta (and a little garlic and olive oil). So yes, agretti pasta is always a good idea (plus, the name: "spaghetti con agretti": fabulous). It's an easy, mistake-free way to use agretti when you find them. But outside of Rome/Lazio and central Italy, that may be your biggest challenge: finding agretti. In bocca al lupo (good luck), and keep your eyes peeled!

Posted by Dana Klitzberg at Tuesday, April 05, 2016

RECIPE: Vietnamese Chicken, Grapefruit, and Cabbage Salad

Vietnamese may be my favorite of all the various and wonderful Asian cuisines of the world. And though it breaks my heart that I've still not made it to Vietnam, to actually taste the cuisine in its country of origin, I swear that I will, one day soon, make it to that southeast Asian "motherland" of fine food and gorgeous landscape. Until then, my favorite Vietnamese restaurant for culinary escapism happens to be just a few miles down the road from my parents' home in Boca Raton, Florida at La Tre (yes, this restaurant really is THAT good), and I have the owner's brother's out-of-print cookbook, from when his brother ran a sister restaurant in Connecticut. For some dishes, like this one, I no longer need the recipe -- that's how often I make this amazingly delicious and simple salad. But I'll provide my version of it now, for my readers.

This is a salad that's equally delicious in winter as it is in the summer. It's always refreshing, but it's also reminiscent of the Sicilian fennel-blood orange-olive salad that I'm so fond of in winter months.

This is when the citrus in the U.S. is at its peak, so enjoying this salad between Thanksgiving and Easter will get you that wonderful Florida grapefruit -- or even pomelo, which was probably the original fruit used in this dish -- at its sweetest and juiciest. Called goi-ga in Vietnamese, this salad is easily prepared and tossed in a flavor-rich, balanced, umami-packed dressing. It feels indulgent, but really, it's an incredibly healthy, light meal, or precursor to one. 

VIETNAMESE CHICKEN, GRAPEFRUIT, AND CABBAGE SALAD (Goi-Ga)
(Serves 6-8)

3 large poached and chilled chicken breasts, shredded
1 large carrot, grated into thin strips or julienned (optional)
1/2 head of green or napa cabbage, finely shredded
1/4 small head red cabbage (if desired), finely shredded
1/2 medium red onion, very thinly sliced
2 large pink grapefruits or pomelos, peeled and sectioned
1/3 cup chopped fresh mint
2 TBS. chopped fresh cilantro
1/2 cup toasted chopped peanuts

Simple marinade:
2 TBS. white vinegar
3 TBS. sugar
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 cup water

Nuoc Cham Dressing:
Mix all ingredients, heat to a simmer, then remove from heat, and chill in fridge for an hour.
1 small red chile, minced (or 1.5 teaspoons dried chile flakes)
1 TBS. white vinegar
1/2 cup Vietnamese fish sauce (nuoc mam) 
1/4 cup fresh lime juice
2 cloves minced garlic
1/2 cup light brown sugar

- Prepare both the marinade and the dressing and set aside.

- In a large bowl, combine the cabbages, carrot, and onion. Dress with marinade, and set aside to soften for 10 minutes.  

- Drain off most of the marinade and add the Nuoc Cham dressing. 

- Add the shredded chicken and grapefruit sections, and toss to coat.

- Place the salad on a platter or large flat bowl, add the fresh herbs and peanuts, and serve.  
 

Posted by Dana Klitzberg at Tuesday, March 22, 2016

QUICK BITE: Pasticiotto Leccese

I'd been to the Salento area of Puglia a few times before I'd heard about a local pastry specialty called Pasticciotto Leccese. And then I finally tasted the thing -- normally considered a breakfast item (often paired with the local coffee finished with almond milk) -- at which point I thought to myself, where have you been all my life?

I am a chocoholic and not big on sweets senza chocolate, to be honest. I make a few exceptions (carrot cake, cheesecake, and fruit pies, oh my!) -- when the sweet is done really well, or is simply delicious enough to warrant my chocolate waiver. Pasticciotto Leccese, consider yourself waived.
 

As I said, this is really a breakfast item -- the perfect "Continental" breakfast pastry, much more interesting than your standard cornetto or croissant. There is a firm but creamy center of the pastry, a cooked pastry cream that, in many versions I tasted, had a mild hint of almond in it (something that wouldn't surprise me as an ingredient in the pastry cream, considering the Salentini's fondness for almond milk in place of regular dairy milk).

The crust of the pasticciotto is no ordinary pasta frolla (never a favorite of mine), the standard dough for Italian pastries. Frolla owes its bright yellow color to the gorgeous Italian orange egg yolks, and the particular flavor is thanks to the addition of its signature orangeflower water. The pasticciotto dough is more delicate, flakier, more tender. It's firm enough to hold the pastry cream center within its walls, but lard in the dough is what makes this baby so damned different.

The pasticciotto was created in a small town south of Lecce (as in "Leccese"), called Galatina, in the mid-18th century. Pasticceria Ascalone -- still in business and cranking out the pasticciotti -- lays claim to their invention. Supposedly it was to earn favor among other local townspeople. Let them eat pasticciotti! There are, of course, variations on the classic. My favorite variation (no surprise here) is the chocolate pasticciotto Leccese. Some are filled with Nutella, which is equally delicious.

My friends Monica and Marcello, who were residents of Salento and owned the B&B where my friends and I stayed a few times in recent years, introduced me to this delicacy for breakfast one morning, and it completely changed the way I viewed breakfast in Italy. Which is to say, colazione in Salento is a thing of beauty: fresh fruit (often figs picked from the tree), great coffee and tea with almond milk, and pasticciotto Leccese. This is my morning happy place.

SEASONAL INGREDIENT: Winter Veg

We're still suffering through winter weather (yes, snow in New York City today, people!). But the cold outside doesn't mean we can't enjoy some wonderful produce -- and specifically, winter vegetables -- indoors in our kitchens. There's beauty in their variety of flavor but also in their shapes, sizes, colors, and uses. It's never been easier to "eat the rainbow" of colors in vegetables alone, and many of these items are hearty enough to make into a soup, to pair with the rich meat stews of the season, or to skip the meat altogether and enjoy these gifts of nature on their own as a substantial, diet- and environment-friendly alternative to animal proteins. Below are some great options, as well as some ideas as to what to do with these wonderful winter veggies:

- Radicchio tardivo: This elegant, elongated variety of radicchio di Treviso comes from northeastern Italy around the town of Treviso in the Veneto. It has slim leaves that are white and tipped with burgundy, a result of a second "forced" growth process when the harvested heads are placed in growing tanks with flowing water for a second growth; they're then harvested late (hence "tardivo"). Their crisp, bitter leaves are a thing of beauty, and work especially well in dishes of the area, like a risotto or pasta with radicchio, gorgonzola, and walnuts. This veg is great grilled, or oven-roasted with a little balsamic and a sprinkling of sugar to take away the bitter edge. It's also great in a winter salad with endive and perhaps some kale or watercress.

- Celery root, or Celeriac: This is quite literally the root of celery, but as a root vegetable it's got a bit of starch to it. You can slice into matchsticks to enjoy raw in a salad, or cook it with a potato or two to make a healthier, lower-carb version of mashed potatoes
(trick: the lack of gluten in the celeriac makes its substitution for mashed taters a great healthy upgrade, and you can put it in a food processor for a smooth puree without the gummy mess of potatoes alone). This also means it makes a fabulous soup -- it's great comfort food in cold weather, especially with some fried leeks and a drizzle of maple syrup on top.

- Cauliflower: Much has been made lately of the previously-lowly, pale head of cauliflower, and with good reason. This pallid cruciferous vegetable is actually really healthy for us, and is incredibly versatile. Cook the florets as is traditional and you can toss them with pasta, pine nuts, and raisins in olive oil with a splash of wine and you have a great pasta dish, Sicilian in origin. Pulse in a food processor and you have gluten-free couscous. Roast whole in the oven rubbed with olive oil, salt, and spices, and you have an excellent main course meat stand-in (You can also slice the cauliflower into "steaks" and serve vegetarian versions of steak preparations: cauliflower au poivre, anyone?).

- Broccolo romano, or Romanesco: This is what Romans refer to simply as a "broccolo" -- they think the dark green version that is our standard is "broccolo siciliano" (Sicilian broccoli). This is a popular side dish in Rome, cooked until meltingly tender in olive oil, with garlic and peperoncino. Mammamia! It's also tossed with pasta, and served in the disappearing-but-traditional Roman soup, broccoli ed arzilla made with stingray and roman broccoli in broth -- really delicious.

- Winter squash: This family includes butternut, spaghetti, acorn, delicata, and on and on. Roasted with just a drizzle of olive oil, a few cloves of garlic, and a sprinkling of sea salt, winter squash are healthful and a great substitute for potatoes alongside proteins. They can be pureed into amazing soups. They can be roasted alongside other vegetables. They can become filling for pastas like ravioli. Spaghetti squash can be served like its namesake pasta, in place of the pasta itself! And delicata squash can be served skin-on, for extra ease in prep...and extra fiber. These nubby veggies are versatile and amazingly delicious, and even the seeds should be saved, cleaned, and roasted to make into a healthy snack, to sprinkle on salads, to grind into a pesto...even to candy for dessert!

- Brussels sprouts: These mini-cabbages named after a Northern European city (still a mystery) have caught on again since the "new" century, and have become a ubiquitous side dish in restaurants from Manhattan to Minneapolis. And good for them! Because they're very good for us, another cruciferous veggie full of fiber and vitamins. I make mine with pancetta, shallots, balsamic or sherry vinegar, and a touch of honey -- and they're a perennial Thanksgiving favorite.

- Cabbage: Big brother to the brussels sprouts above, cabbage is another healthful, incredibly versatile veg. There are many varieties, including regular green or white cabbage, red cabbage, and savoy cabbage with its slightly curlier, thinner leaves. Cabbage can be shredded and eaten raw, as in cole slaw, or cooked, as in stewed cabbage (I like mine sweet-and-sour, like they make it in central Europe, stewed with some vinegar, salt and sugar). It can be fermented and transformed into kimchi, or simply eaten as part of a salad. It can be stuffed with ground meat or vegetables and stewed for stuffed cabbage or other savory packets or spring rolls. It's also great in a simple soup with a veggie broth, brightened with the acidity of a splash of vinegar. 

- Beets: Another underdog root veggie we root for (food pun!), the beet was and is still "having a moment" on menus across America. These former outcasts have experienced a renaissance, and I'm happy about that, because they're gorgeous and packed full of vitamins and antioxidants, and they make a great soup (borscht), a great salad ingredient, and a great side dish.

They're a substitute for the deep ruby color of raw beef, so vegan tartares now have new life. They can be golden or fuchsia or swirly candy-cane colored (chioggia beets), they can be sliced thinly or fried into chips or served julienned in a salad with lots of carrots and pistachios and fresh herbs and warm spices like cumin and ras-el-hanout...They pair really well with those carrots, but also with goat cheese and ricotta cheese, with nuts and herbs, they're great dressed with vinegars or with sweet-sour pomegranate molasses or silan date syrup for a Middle Eastern-North African vibe, and they're great in Central and Eastern European preparations, with dill and meat and potatoes and flaky smoked fish...they're as versatile as they are pretty, and as inexpensive health powerhouses, they can't be...well, you know...

Enjoy the healthy vegetable variety that comes with the winter season, and get your fill while you can!

Posted by Dana Klitzberg at Friday, March 04, 2016

MARKETS: Jerusalem's Shuk Machane Yehuda

Jerusalem is in the heart of one of the world's most ancient crossroads of cultures, religions, history...time itself, really. Walking through the city's Machane Yehuda market, one feels a part of the timeless bustle.

Referred to as a shuk ("shook") in Hebrew, this marketplace was originally open-air, and is now partially covered. This neighborhood outside of the old city walls was established in 1887, founded by three business partners (including one German Protestant), named after the brother of one of the owners (Yehuda). A market was established at the end of the 19th century to serve the growing areas outside the Old City, where Arab vendors sold their goods. But under Ottoman rule, the market expanded rapidly and without real order, and sanitation conditions grew unsustainabe until the late 1920's, when British mandate authorities cleared everyone out and installed a permanent market structure known by its present-day name, the Mechane Yehuda Market.

As is common around historic market squares in cities the world over, the major streets on the perimeters of the market are bisected by smaller side streets that were once all named for items sold in the market -- in this case, fruits and nuts: Afarsek (peach) Street, Agas (pear) Street, Egoz (walnut) Street, Shaked (almond), Shezif (plum), Tapuach (apple), and Tut (berry) Streets.

In 1931, a new section of the market was built by 20 traders who previously only had temporary wooden stalls in this area to the west of the main market. This arm of the market was dubbed the Iraqi Market, for its traders were largely Iraqi Jews. Today the Iraqi Market is located right off of Mechane Yehuda Street, and offers lots of exotic middle eastern spices, fruits, herbs, and various specialty items.
 

The Machane Yehuda market boasts more than 250 vendors of all varieties. Some sell fresh fruits and vegetables as in a greenmarket; others sell baked goods and breads; cured meats and cheeses; nuts, seeds, pastas, spices and spice blends; meat and fish; wines and liquors; and some sell non-edibles like clothing and shoes, textiles and tapestries, housewares, and Judaica. (No market in Israel is complete without some kind of Judaica shop contained within its walls!). You'll be overwhelmed by the gorgeous displays of fresh fruit and veggies, which clearly place you smack in the middle of the Middle East and Mediterranean! Pomegranates (thought to be the original "apple" in the Garden of Eden) abound, and figs and dates and eggplant and tomatoes and olives are everywhere.

Another classic in large markets? Plenty of stands and shops selling prepared foods to eat on the spot, or while walking the market lanes. There are a multitude of falafel, shawarma, kebab, shashlik, mixed grill, baklava, and halva stands, along with juice bars and fruit sellers with fruit cups and various preparations ready for easy consumption.

All of this is within the classic market atmosphere of vendors yelling out prices to entice shoppers, and those exhibiting their goods to passersby. On Thurdays and particularly Friday afternoons, the market is packed with shoppers stocking up for shabbat, the sabbath, since the devout must prepare meals ahead of time so no work is done during the sabbath (until sundown Saturday evening). Friday afternoon in the marketplace hears the sounding of the bugle marking the closing of the market for shabbat. Everyone scurries to finish their shopping while there's still time.

In the aughts, a major overhaul took place in the Machane Yehuda Market. The infrastructure was updated, roads were repaved, and some open areas were covered. This is partly in response to the 1997 and 2002 terrorist attacks of the marketplace which killed 23 people. One change that the market's board put into place -- to bring back the tourists and the local shoppers alike -- was drawing in more cafes, boutiques, and bars (some featuring live music) to set up shop here. The thought was that these "hot spots" would lure more regular visitors to become frequent shoppers -- and frequent patrons of the cafes and restaurants. And it's worked. The shuk has become quite a nightlife hub in Jerusalem. In fact, the market has so enlivened the neighborhood that one of the top restaurants in Jerusalem -- and all of Israel, by most standards -- is located within the market: Machneyuda.

Launched in 2009, this has been one of the hardest reservations to get in Israel (I know, I tried!). Notable Chef and slow food advocate Yossi Asaf paired with some local Iron Chef winners to create a market-driven, homey environment for both traditional Levant-area specialties and modern Mediterranean cuisine. The bi-level restaurant is always bustling, and the open kitchen allows diners to share in the high-energy, frenetic restaurant kitchen experience. Clearly the Machane Yehuda shuk and all of its winding alleyways and side streets, and its restaurants and bars contained within, have become a Jerusalem epicenter for culinary and cultural experiences. Don't miss it the next time you're in the Holy Land!

MACHANE YEHUDA MARKET
Official website in English:
http://www.machne.co.il/en/
Sun - Thurs, 8 am to 7 pm
Friday 8 am to 3 pm
Bars and restaurants that stay open later within the market generally must follow city rules, including a ban on loud music after 11 pm.

Machneyuda Restaurant
Beit Ya'akov St. 10
Jerusalem
+972 2 533 3442
http://www.machneyuda.co.il/en

Posted by Dana Klitzberg at Thursday, February 25, 2016

RECIPE: Ethereal Mushroom Soup

It is winter in New York. And while this year has been a much milder winter season than in recent years, it's still February. It's still cold in spells and we're all still starved for sun, birds chirping, and the sun setting after 6 pm. Personally, I was really looking forward to a fantastic 2016...and then promptly got sick on January 1st. And again on January 31st. So, I've had a lot of "down time," as it were, to ponder life, and what to eat. I've had plenty of cozy hours indoors, as a sick couch potato and a binge-watcher and a reader and a daydreamer, and in all of this time, I've been making a lot of soups. This is nothing new for me for the early part of the year, and soups are a very healthy way to warm the bones and fill up with a great bowl of healthy tasty stuff. I've made some of the usuals in my repertoire: Tuscan white bean and kale soup, butternut squash puree, Asian beef broth with noodles and veggies, and of course Jewish penicillin a.k.a. matzo ball soup. But while I was between cold and flu, in mid-January, I had a partial Roman posse over for a dinner party -- they were my ladies who were in from Rome and Boston and Rhode Island and some from the NY metro area, and I of course wanted to feed them well. 

After appetizers and stuzzichini and prosecco in the living room, we started in on the meal with a creamy pureed mushroom soup. This was inspired by an amazing version my friend Jessica ordered in Santiago, Chile, at a very spiffy restaurant called Puerto Fuy (see http://bluaubergine.blogspot.com/2015/01/escapes-santiago-chile.html). It was the essence of mushroom earthiness, but it was also somehow light as air. I wanted to recreate that, not only because it was so delicious, but also because my friend Jessica was in attendance at my dinner party, and it had been pretty much exactly two years since we'd eaten that sublime soup. Also, Jessica declares that she is "over chewing" -- and as a result, she tends to puree everything she possibly can. She appreciated my efforts on behalf of her jaw! But really, I was incorporating two of the healthiest, anti-carcinogenic foods (mushrooms and onions) together in one dish. The recipe is simple because I wanted the soup to be a distilled essence. I wanted to taste the variety of mushrooms that went into the soup, and little else. So that's how I made it. I topped it off with fresh thyme and a gastrique of blackberries and balsamic, inspired by the Italian idea of "frutti del bosco" -- literally translated, it's "fruits of the forest," and that's what blackberries and mushrooms are. In Rome, the old lady in my local market square where I sourced porcini and funghi of all kinds sold only two things: mushrooms and berries, in theory, two items that could have been gathered in one trip to the forest. Frutti del bosco. Here they are, and here is my recipe. This is for you, Jess, and for our trip to Chile, and for the old mushroom lady in Campo de Fiori who is no more. Enjoy it on one of these cold winter nights.

ETHEREAL MUSHROOM SOUP
Serves 6-8

4 oz. dried porcini mushrooms
3 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
1 white onion, finely diced
2 cloves garlic, finely diced
2 pints white mushrooms, cleaned and chopped
2 pints mixed Asian mushrooms (shitake, maitake, etc.)
2 pints hen of the woods or oyster mushrooms
4 large portobello mushroom caps
10 cups mushroom stock/vegetable broth (including the water from soaking the dried porcini)  
3/4 cup organic heavy cream  
sprigs of thyme and rosemary
Salt and pepper to taste

- Bring 2 cups of water to a boil, and pour over dried porcini mushrooms in a bowl to soak for at least 10 minutes.
- Wipe mushrooms clean with a damp cloth, cut off stems with dirt attached, and give them all a rough chop so they're all roughly the same size (1/4 - 1/2 inch pieces)
- In a large soup pot, warm the olive oil over medium heat. Toss in the onion and garlic and saute for 60 seconds to soften. Lower the heat slightly and sweat the onion and garlic for another 3 minutes.
- Add the mushrooms, bit by bit, just so there are enough to cover the bottom of the pan. When they cook down a bit, add another bunch to the pot. Continue this way until all of the mushrooms are cooking (and losing water) in the pot. Sprinkle with salt and pepper.
- Remove the soaking porcini from the water with your hands, and ring out the mushrooms so they have as little water content as possible (keep the water!). Chop these and add them to the cooking mushrooms in the pot.
- Strain the mushroom soaking liquid through a mesh strainer lined with a paper towel, to catch any sediment, into a bowl.
- Add the mushroom soaking liquid and mushroom or vegetable stock to the mushrooms in the pot. Allow this to come to a boil, then turn down the heat to low and allow to simmer for 30 minutes, so the flavors meld. You can add a touch of thyme and/or rosemary at this point (but sparingly -- otherwise the herbs tend to taste medicinal).
- Using an immersion blender, puree the mushrooms and stock until smooth. At this point, add the heavy cream and adjust for salt and pepper. Blend again. The soup can be thinned with additional stock if necessary.

Soup can be served with a fresh herb garnish and a blackberry gastrique: simply cook a pint or two of blackberries in a small saucepan with a pinch of salt, a couple of tablespoons of sugar, and 1/2 cup balsamic vinegar. Puree in a blender or food processor when done, and strain through a mesh sieve into a squirt bottle. Simply squeeze a swirl of blackberry gastrique onto the top of the mushroom soup just before serving.

QUICK BITE: Citrus, Fennel, and Olive Salad

In the dead of winter, when it's full-on season for soups and stews and slow-cooked meats, and root vegetables rule the local bistro menus...well, I enjoy indulging in languid winter cooking and eating rituals, but sometimes I could really use a little culinary levity. And I think if anyone understands this feeling, it's the Sicilians. They are blessed not only with a temperate island climate -- even mid-winter -- but also with an abundance of cheery citrus fruit throughout the winter, including the amazingly delicious and colorful blood oranges. 
 

Fennel is a vegetable that straddles root veg and refreshing stalk, an anise-perfumed crunchy salad base when raw, which is incidentally really the only way I like my fennel. Add to this pairing of fragrant crispness and sunny, sweet-tart citrus a bit of the local briny olive (Castelvetrano is my green Sicilian favorite), and you've got a trio made in heaven. I toss it all with a bit of extra virgin olive oil -- Sicilian if you can get your hands on it -- some sea salt (from Trapani would be ideal), and a little of the citrus juice that remains in the bowl over which you cut the blood oranges and grapefruit. It's sort of a naturally-occurring citronette, and it's all the dressing this salad needs. Finish it off with some of the fennel fronds as a bit of an herbal touch, and you're done. Unless, of course, you want to toss a few almonds or pine nuts onto the salad -- perfectly acceptable Sicilian nuts that work with the salad and add a little healthy fat and a little crunch into the mix. This salad is my antidote to the heavy midwinter food blues. And it's gorgeous on the plate! Buon appetito!
 

RESTAURANT REVIEWS: SANTAELLA -- San Juan, Puerto Rico

RESTAURANT REVIEWS: SANTAELLA -- San Juan, Puerto Rico

There's nothing I like better than a warm-weather escape when it's absolutely frigid back home. And the past few years, my timing was perfect, as I fled from snow and ice and sub-zero temperatures. My latest escape? Puerto Rico, an island so proximate to New York that I'm truly surprised it took me so long to finally make it there!

And what an island it is. Or, at least, the north coast and San Juan, where we spent a fabulous five days. The city of San Juan is like an even-more-Latin Miami, and then Old San Juan takes you back to colonial Spain, even parts of Southern Sicily can be found in the wrought iron balconies on the candy-colored buildings, and the cobblestone streets. And after the holidays, it's still got a very festive vibe. So, we did the beach retreat, the city room on the shore, and ventured into various parts near and far for some amazingly good meals.

The highlight of our dining experiences, however, was clear: Santaella, a creation of local chef José Santaella. With stints a Le Bernardin in New York and Gary Danko in San Francisco -- two of America's best restaurants, hands-down -- the chef's top-notch pedigree is undisputed. Santaella's reverence for seafood certainly stems from his time living on a tropical island, and his urban chef stints surely cemented his love for fresh fish in all its forms. At Santaella restaurant, located in an offbeat neighborhood near the central market in San Juan, the modern dining room is an urban tropical escape. The well-informed staff are warm and helpful, never imposing.

The vibe of the place makes you love it even before your first sip of a delicious libation, like a Sandia mojito (with fresh watermelon), or a tamarind margarita. Moving on, the menu is divided into Nibbles, Specials, Salads, "Barely Touched" (this is crudo and ceviche), and Main Courses, then Desserts. This food is fun, vivacious, expertly prepared, and really delicious, AND, the portions are quite generous.

We started with the Hawaiian Waho Ono ceviche, with tropical juices, radishes, sweet potato, and cucumber with tortilla crisp strips. This was everything a tuna ceviche should be -- bright, happy, crispiness of varying degrees, and a gorgeous meaty tuna barely "cooked" by tart-sweet tropical fruit juices. Seriously yum, and very light. This was good because we ordered a lot of food. 

We had the house specialty empanadas that evening, a mix of meat and vegetables like mushrooms and peas. These were expertly prepared and delicious, and not at all bland like some empanadas can be. All in, a nice counterpart to the light tuna ceviche.

Moving on, we ordered another delicious seafood "crudo"-type dish, the "Japanese Crazy Salad," as it was dubbed. This was a spicy crabmeat salad (cold) layered with seaweed salad and avocado, on top of a plantain fritter as large and round as a personal pan pizza. It was a vibrant mish-mash of tastes and textures, reminiscent of sushi restaurant flavors but more interesting...and a lot of fun.

After a delicious salad and a few croquettes of the day, we finished up the savory part of our meal with a casserole of baby octopus, chorizo and chickpeas with sherry. The servers had warned us that this portion was not for the faint of heart, but since we were going through our meal grazing and sharing everything, tapas-style (and since I was with The Big Guy, who was never daunted by a plate of food), we laughed at the suggestion that something might be, well, too much. But this was a healthy portion. Very healthy. And the dish itself, with a huge nod to the Spanish ancestry of Puerto Rico, was rich and meaty and delicious. We were eating an early dinner before heading to the airport to catch our late flight back to New York City, so we definitely wanted to be satisfied, but not uncomfortably overstuffed. This was our last meal in Puerto Rico, however, so we decided to split a dessert because: vacation!

The coconut everything on this tropical island made me a very happy camper. So we decided on a signature Santaella dessert, the coconut and almond custard with a delicious coconut ice cream. The custard tart was very hot, its caramelized crispy almond cover shattering as we dug our spoons into the warm creamy sweetness underneath. The ice cream was the cool counterpoint to the creme brulee -- essentially this was baked and frozen versions of the same intensely flavored coconut custard, sharing a plate. After the meal, I inquired about purchasing the cookbook I'd seen on display at the hostess stand when we came in, as I was a chef and first-timer to Puerto Rico. With the same courteous manners and smiling service we'd enjoyed all evening, our waiter offered to get chef to personalize the cookbook, signed and dedicated to me. It was thoughtful and sweet, and really, what more could I ask for? It was the perfect ending to a wonderful trip, our first but certainly not our last jaunt to this island nation just a hop, skip, and a brief plane ride away from my home back in the cold of a New York winter. 

SANTAELLA

219 Calle Canals

La Placita de Santurce

San Juan, PR 00907

Tel: +1 (787) 725-1611

Posted by Dana Klitzberg at Monday, February 01, 2016

QUICK BITE: Bone Broth, Your Way

QUICK BITE: Bone Broth, Your Way

It's the dead of winter, and the entire east coast has just been hit with a major blizzard. This past weekend was, as they say, perfect "cooking project" weather. And it still is: perfect for a good, long simmer of beef bones thick with marrow on the stove, perfuming the air of your home and warming your kitchen. And then, once this broth is made, you can do so much with it. It's great just as is, of course. Much has been made of a "bone broth" revolution of sorts. Really, this is just broth, stock, whatever your want to call it -- that's been the base of soup and sauce recipes for ages. 

Some say to roast the bones and veggies in the oven first; I usually like to keep in uncomplicated when cooking this at home, and just use one pot -- a great big soup pot that's wide enough so that you can first roast the beef bones in one layer. I use a mix of marrow bones and some with a little meat on them, like short ribs or oxtail. I encourage a little caramelization with some tomato concentrate on top of the bones, and roast them on the stovetop or oven first until browned. Then I add the the carrots, onions, and celery (leeks and shallots if you're feeling it), along with lots of water, peppercorns, and a bay leaf. And really, that's it. This needs to simmer slow and low for as few as 6 hours, and as many as 24. Skim the ft occasionally from the top, and when it's done, strain it, cool it down and then place in storage containers in the fridge to completely cool overnight. This allows you to easily scrape the fat off the top the next day.

Now, the fun part. of course, you can sip the beef broth as is, even in a mug like the most restorative cup of coffee and lunch, combined. But the great thing about making a huge potload of beef broth is getting creative with it! You can freeze some in ice cube trays and then store in a ziploc bag in the freezer for use in sauces and individual servings later on. You can add some noodles and some vegetables and have a beef noodle soup. You can caramelize a pan full of sliced onions, sprinkle with flour, and add the broth for a wonderful French onion soup (top with a baguette slice and gruyere cheese for the real deal!). 

Or, make a wonderful, healthy, super-tasty Vietnamese-inspired version, like you see here. I took the basic beef broth and simmered it with a bit of soy sauce, fish sauce, rice wine vinegar, pineapple chunks, chopped lemongrass, kaffir lime leaf, star anise, szechuan peppercorns, coriander seed, and chili pepper. The broth was infused with all of these warm and spicy notes over the course of about 2 hours.

Just before serving, I added some rice noodles, thinly-sliced bok choy, fresh cilantro and mint, a healthy squeeze of lime juice, and a bit of sriracha sauce, both blended in and drizzled on top. This is an incredibly fortifying soup-as-meal that's great both in cold weather and in hot. It's both edifying and refreshing. And it's utterly satisfying. You can create your own variations on this Asian noodle soup theme: add some red or green curry paste, a protein of choice, any kind of greens, herbs, citrus, spices. Have fun playing with your food! Keep warm, and keep cooking...

Posted by Dana Klitzberg at Monday, January 25, 2016

FOOD PORN: A LOOK BACK 2015 (Catering Edition)

FOOD PORN: A LOOK BACK 2015 (Catering Edition)

Here we are in 2016 (can you believe it?!), and once again, the final month of the year proved to be a happily hectic one for Blu Aubergine. I managed to keep up to some degree with blogging, but never as much as I'd like. 

So here, now, I thought I'd start the new year off with something different than what's currently clogging your inbox. I'll hold off on the healthy eating and new year resolution diets and soup recipes (though those are coming!) to reflect on some of the more drool-worthy creations I served to my clients over the past year. This is a multi-part posting under the Blu Aubergine blog category FOOD PORN that I started last year. It's simply photos of the more popular and pretty dishes I made in 2015 -- trolling for culinary salivary stimulation. Yes, I'm still unapologetic.

We catered a sushi-themed birthday party with a Japanese buffet -- all during a snowstorm! 

Farm-fresh crudite with my famous hummus is always a hit.

Oven-roasted heirloom cherry tomatoes atop herb-crusted goat cheese: one of many varieties of crostini in our catering repertoire.

Scallop ceviche: spicy, fresh, and light, served with crispy tortilla chips.

A modern version of Oysters Rockefeller...

Home-cured salmon and goat cheese with red onion on baguette crisps: more crostini!

Roasted red pepper soup with parmigiano croutons -- Cheese and salumi platter
 

Crostini topped with London broil and chimichurri; Crostini with ricotta and prosciutto, artichoke spread, and tomato and basil.

We catered a lovely baby shower luncheon, with a Peter Rabbit theme -- perfect for an early springtime afternoon with the ladies.

Baby carrot cakes were on-theme and the perfect bite for those with a sweet tooth.

And mini strawberry-rhubarb pies were an indulgence that most party-goers couldn't resist!












We catered the seemingly impossible: a Passover Seder and surprise birthday party for 30 people in a small, newly renovated, unoccupied apartment (with a kitchen that was installed just hours before the event!)

The seder had influences both classic Ashkenazi (brisket) and Mediterranean (Italian rosemary and garlic-stuffed turkey breast in a white wine sauce)...

...as well as Sephardic sides like fattoush made with matzoh instead of pita bread, and Moroccan-spiced potato salad with green olives, preserved lemon, and sumac...





 

...Plus desserts that included my famous flourless chocolate cake with fresh strawberry sauce, flourless apple tart, and biscotti and macarons.








It was also a great year for Blu Aubergine and fun pop-ups. We worked with No Satar/Air Circulation Studios to create a friendly, relaxed Roman Easter-themed feast!

Platters of Rigatoni all'amatriciana

Risotto with asparagus, parmigiano, and crispy prosciutto

And classic saltimbocca alla romana were among the offerings...








 

Penthouse birthday bash on the Bowery for 75 people.

My culinary contribution to my parents' 50th wedding anniversary party in a south Florida restaurant: the cake!

I decided on a family favorite, called a shadow cake: 4 layers of chocolate and golden cakes with chocolate buttercream, topped with white buttercream and chocolate ganache to cover (and a golden heart on top, for the 50th golden anniversary, of course!).

Another amazing pop-up I did was in conjunction with Filigree Suppers, and the theme was famous women in culture. Each course was inspired by a fabulous female, from Dorothy Parker to Josephine Baker, Georgia O'Keeffe to Julia Child, Chanel to Pavlova. It was a wonderful evening!

Southwestern sunset-hued salads, in celebration of Georgia O'Keeffee
 

Deconstructed Boeuf Bourguignon, in honor of Julia Child.

And a seared scallop on squid ink couscous, with pickled cauliflower and preserved lemon sauce, in salute to Josephine Baker.

 

A sweet ending: Pavlovas, the meringue, cream, and fruit dessert created in honor of the ballerina.
 

Holiday season highlights included a southern-themed holiday dinner party in a 30,000 square foot artist's studio on the Brooklyn waterfront...
 

The table was gorgeous and the food, including creole shrimp, sweet potato casserole with caramelized onions and goat cheese, roasted pork loin with peach-cranberry mostarda, and cajun brussels sprouts and cabbage slaw, exuded southern charm.

There were other holiday parties, of course: cocktail gatherings downtown and uptown...with brie en croute, drizzled honey, nuts and dried fruit, smoked salmon with horseradish cream on endive leaves... 

The sweet ending to the year? Mini sweet potato cupcakes with maple buttercream...

Red fruit tart with mascarpone-ginger cream...whole...

And in slices, with a spiced citrus sauce....










 

And a yule log, of course, to end the year on a festive holiday note!

Posted by Dana Klitzberg at Thursday, January 14, 2016

SEASONAL INGREDIENT: Cranberries

SEASONAL INGREDIENT: Cranberries

I've always loved the taste of cranberries. At the age of 6, I was a precocious little thing, turning my nose up at orange juice (what kid doesn't like OJ?) and requesting cranberry juice of my inevitably surprised servers at diners and delis everywhere. Our family vacation destination each August for my entire childhood was Cape Cod, and I think I especially loved our time there because cranberry products were everywhere: cranberry juice was de rigeur at pancake houses all along the Massachusetts coast, and cranberry fudge was a local delicacy we could really only find on the Cape. And speaking of Cape Cod, when I got older (though let's be clear, not old enough), cranberry juice was my mixer of choice with vodka, for a Cape Cod or a Sea Breeze.

Then, a few years after I became of legal drinking age, Sex and the City hit New York and the world, and you can bet I was slugging down Cosmopolitans in 1999! I even brought the drink to Rome, where I taught bartender friends how to make the perfect Cosmo -- though it was a challenge at the time.

You had to really hunt to find two of the key ingredients: cranberry juice and limes (times have really changed in Rome since then -- I like to think I had a hand in the availability of cranberries and limes thanks to my persistent bugging of market owners all over Rome's center!).

It's back in America where cranberries have a real history. They're a perennial holiday favorite, starting off the season with cranberry sauce at Thanksgiving -- and they've been around for centuries. In the 1672 book New England Rarities Discovered, cranberries are described as a "sauce for the Pilgrims, cranberry or bearberry" (bearberry because bears ate the berries)..."that grows in salt marshes that are overgrown with moss. The berries are of a pale yellow color, afterwards red, as big as a cherry...with sower [sic] astringent taste...They are excellent against the Scurvy...The Indians and English use them mush, boyling [sic] them with sugar for sauce to eat with their meat..." And so not much has changed since then. The classic sauce is wonderful -- simply the berries cooked with sugar until they burst. I sometimes like to add orange zest and a little port to add a sophisticated touch to my sauce, but for the most part I like the cranberries to speak for themselves. 

In 1787, James Madison wrote to Thomas Jefferson while he was stationed in France, asking for background information on constitutional government to use at the Constitutional Convention. Jefferson obliged, sending Madison several books on the subject and asked in return for distinctly American gifts that he missed (foodie that Jefferson was): apples, pecans, and yes, cranberries.

In the U.S., Wisconsin is the leading producer of cranberries, with over half of American production. And yes, Massachusetts is number two. My native New Jersey is number three in the country (making NJ not just the garden state, but also the bog state, apparently!). Small volume production occurs in Argentina, Chile, and the Netherlands, in the "old world." 1816 marked the first commercially grown cranberries in the States in East Dennis, Massachusetts on Cape Cod. When cultivated, cranberries are grown on low trailing vines atop great sandy bogs.

Nutritionally speaking? Raw cranberries have plenty of vitamin C, dietary fiber, and the essential mineral manganese. They're also a source of polyphenols, currently under active research for their cardiovascular benefits, their cancer-fighting agents, and their capacity to bolster the immune system. Cranberries have been valued for decades for their ability to help prevent and treat urinary tract infections.

Recent studies have also suggested that this powerful berry may promote gastrointestinal and oral health: its phytonutrients are effective in lowering unwanted inflammation, and this extends specifically to the stomach, colon, and the mouth and gums. This miraculous little native American berry may even help aid in recovery from stroke, and lower LDL and raise HDL (good) cholesterol. Clearly, the cranberry packs a powerful, healthful punch!

I even add the berries to my beautiful, red-and-green holiday brittle, using shelled pistachios and dried cranberries as the chewy, crunchy bright spots in the caramelized sweetness of the brittle itself. What's most important? Get creative! Use cranberries where you might have used raisins, cherries, pomegranate, figs, nuts, marmalade, maple syrup, orange or apple juice...the possibilities are practically endless. I've known since the age of 6 that cranberries are delicious -- and now I know, we know, that they're also a smart food choice. Eat, drink, and be berry!

Posted by Dana Klitzberg at Wednesday, December 23, 2015