A Meal to Save the Soul

On a notably cold and wet Williamsburg weekend we had the distinct pleasure of playing host to one Sarah McPherson. For me, cooking is about more than just providing sustenance. It is a form of entertainment. It is an excuse to sit around the kitchen over a bottle of wine and reminisce about the past. As is to be expected the idiosyncrasies of Gainesville life were well covered. A comment on Bohannan's gas station, run by a family of extremely questionable genetic diversity, had Sam almost choking to death with laughter. Sarah provided a goat cheese and roasted honey-tomato crostini for an appetizer (not pictured). The arugula salad was garnished with yellow cherry tomatoes, fresh sweet corn, cannellini beans, and crushed pecans, dressed with a white balsamic vinaigrette. The main course was a soul-satisfying, albiet coma-inducing beef, pork, and veal bolognese over shells and roasted mixed vegetables on the side. Thanks to Alice for the very flattering photos. You always make my food look so good!

A Tale of Two Soups

As summer reluctantly fades into fall, change is in the air. Weather patterns aside, I have started noticing a change in the available produce in the many New York farmer's markets. I have long had a torrid love affair with the tomato, one that will soon and most unfortunately end for the year. Not one to settle for the artificial redness of the gassed grocery store variety I am savoring these last few days. I was informed by a vendor in Union Square that I have, at the most optimistic estimate, three weeks to enjoy this delectable little fruit. My latest bout of tomato worship came in the form of a peach and tomato gazpacho with fresh mint. I also realize I have little time left for chilled soup. In preparation for the impending cold, and as homage to my Polish neighbors I made borscht made from beets from McCarren Park farmer's market and a little Zywiec for flavor. Who doesn't love food prepared with beer?

Cured Meats Will Be The Death Of Me

This is an all too frequent situation. It's 4 am and I'm dead tired, thoroughly inebriated, and in no shape to be awake, let alone cooking. And yet here I find myself in the kitchen swaying like a slash pine in a hurricane. I'm starving. Enter handmade salami from Emily's Pork Store and a leftover baguette I brought home from Ten Degrees. Oh wait, there's dijon mustard from last week's barbecue sauce and the rest of the smoked gouda from the corn muffins. And what's this? Sam bought turkey and alfalfa sprouts. It's now 5 am and I have a gourmet sandwich. I'll most likely wake up at the kitchen table with half of it stuck to my face, but the sense of satisfaction makes it all worthwhile. A side note, In the background of the picture is a gas bill that, at a meager $10.08, has gone unpaid for at least two weeks. We even have the money to pay it. What is wrong with us?

Have Smoker, Will Travel

In Brooklyn, a good wood-fired smoker is only slightly less elusive than the ghost train of Alachua County legend, that haunts moonless summer nights with its lonesome whistle's cry. On occasion I find myself pointing a nostril to the sky, hoping for a faint trace of hickory or mesquite on the afternoon breeze. Unfortunately, the only smoke I smell is either from a nearby garbage fire, or from the Virginia Slim chain-smoking Polish octogenarian living next-door. Since erecting a brick pit on the fire escape seems ironic at best, and criminally negligent at worst, I have been forced to come up with this compromise. Espresso rubbed spare ribs; seared in a cast iron skillet, finished in the oven, and topped with a blueberry barbecue sauce. On the side is a chipotle and smoked gouda corn muffin, and lemon-garlic asparagus. Thanks to Sarah for the inspiration for the sauce and Alice for the photo.

Breakfast of Champions...

...or hangover helper. I'll let you decide. 10 Degrees, my current place of employment, has an extremely limited menu and thus an extremely limited number of ingredients to work with. I'll take that challenge any day. Yesterday morning I brought myself back to an almost human existence with this 3 egg omelette with cherry tomatoes, Beeler Gruyere, and homemade basil pesto. On the side is a mixed green salad with balsamic vinaigrette. I threw in a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice and my metamorphosis from beast back to man was complete.

Memoirs of a Southern Transplant

We Southerners have to stick together, especially here so far above the Mason-Dixon. As the marrow-crushing North Wind looms closer and closer by the day I reach out to the intentionally displaced. Why have we strayed so far from home? For me the answer is simple: "Let's get these people fed." The search for sustenance can be one of either brutal monotony, or, in the eyes and heart of the gourmand, a reason for living. So, with this mantra in mind I give you my humble contribution to the blogosphere. I will start with a blast from the past. Consider it a peace offering to all cultures and lifestyles very far detached from my own. I give you Polynesian style pulled pork, Mango and red cabbage coleslaw, and Caribbean black beans and rice. All I ask in return is the name and location of a cheap but awe-inspiring BBQ restaurant within 45 minutes of my home. I doubt that's too much to ask. And as for Dante's, you will never know what you passed up... Eat your heart out!