Brooklyn's Underground Lobster Roll Scene

First rule of the underground lobster pound is you don’t talk about the underground lobster pound. Not at full volume into your iPhone on the sidewalk of this illegal lobster-roll purveyor, and definitely not with a gaggle of tilting friends swilling beer from plastic party cups.

“It’s cool, people are really coming out of the woodwork,” Ben Sargent* said, with his ever-present, good-natured grin. “But they’ve gotta get smarter about this...”

Sargent, a Boston-area native whose seafood skills were gleaned from his paternal grandfather, was the man behind the old Williamsburg, Brooklyn, dive Hurricane Hopeful (where Bobby Flay once challenged him to a chowder throwdown), is the co-creator of the Brooklyn Fishing Derby and is known to radio and YouTube audiences as The Brooklyn Chowder Surfer. He started serving up lobster rolls in his Greenpoint smidgen of a kitchen — $14 a roll, and he’ll slip one through the mail slot if you call when he’s indisposed — toward the end of January, wanting a new outlet for at least one of the two things he says he does best in this world.

Made with meat pulled from Maine waters less than 24 hours earlier, Sargent’s are the “Old Man and the Sea” of lobster rolls: simplified and perfected until at a glance they appear child’s play, but a sampling reveals the hand of a master.

“You want to see if a chef is any good, ask him to make you a grilled cheese,” Sargent said. “Give him two slices of white bread, two slices of cheddar, some butter and see what he does.”

In the same vein, Sargent culls high kitchen art from a minimum of ingredients: fresh lobster, a salt water brew, melted butter, mayonnaise, a dash of Old Bay Seasoning and his favorite hotdog buns. (“It’s the corn syrup that makes them so good,” he offered sheepishly.)

The buns are brushed with butter on each side before being splayed on an electric skillet, which results in a textural heaven: a crunch, soft, crunch before the teeth hit that sweet, tender meat.

“You stuff it with lettuce and celery, and it tastes like lettuce and celery! Even the temperature is so important. I tell people to call an hour before they come so I can take the meat out the fridge,” he said, tipping a Tupperware container to show a guest the delicate slurry of mingled lobster juice and mayo settled at its bottom. “You don’t want the meat warm, but also not too cold.”

A few feet away, in the glow of Sargent’s fish tank, two guests chewed and moaned and licked their fingers.

“Lobster rolls and chowder. That’s all it’s ever been with me,” he said.

The Underground Lobster Pound of Greenpoint, in the fair borough of Brooklyn, is open from 5 to 10 p.m., seven nights a week. For an appointment and directions, email hurricanehopeful@yahoo.com.














* You may recall that Ben was also the super-duper Special Guest at the "Gastronomy of Marriage" launch party, which was at the fabulous WORD, also in Greenpoint.

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At Table: Cherry Republic Jam

I've been thinking lately of those terrible t-shirts often inflicted on small children not yet in charge of their wardrobes, which say things like: "My grandparents went to Cape May, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt!"

No joke, kid.

This is hardly that, though. This is, really, exactly the opposite of that. My husband went to freezing-cold Detroit and somehow I was rewarded with absolutely delicious Northern Michigan cherry jam. (As evidence of said deliciousness, I invite you to notice how embarrassingly low the jam level is currently riding.)

It turns out Michigan has the largest cherry-growing area in the world, according to Cherry Republic, which makes all sorts of cherry delicacies — dried cherries, chocolate-covered cherries, cherry wine, and even cherry hot cocoa.

A lovely customer service woman named Phyllis told me that CR buys cherries from farms across five counties. So, is that dozens of farms? I hazarded. "Oh gosh, I couldn't say — we buy from really so many farms..." she answered.

The 20-year-old Cherry Republic also buys from several organic farmers, Phyllis confirmed, and offers a number of organic products, including cherry salsa, jam, and preserves.

I, for one, am already looking forward to next year's Auto Show. There's no going back to the t-shirts now...



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2009: Goodbye to All That

And so that was Christmas. Or Christmas Eve, rather. It has always been my favorite holiday. When I was growing up, we celebrated it more elaborately than Christmas Day, with literally dozens of relatives packed around tables, an insane amount of food, and eventually a round of caroling in the neighborhood, with one of the littlest cousins very insistently, but with his or her best smile, holding out the UNICEF collection box.

This year promised to be far more low key, however, and my mother — for the first time ever — agreed to let me host it. The plan was to drive to her house that evening, though, so that on Christmas morning we could all wake up together, so my debut run was with a restrained lunch, not a blowout dinner.

Still, I stuck to the Italian tradition of serving seafood, and started with smoked salmon appetizers before moving on to a first course of cioppino, a simple seafood stew. (I followed this recipe, but added a dozen little-neck clams.)

For my non-fish-eating sister's sake, we followed that with a vegetarian shepherd's pie (there's a joke to be worked out in making a Christmas shepherd's pie with seitan in it...), a tart, crisp, radish and pomegranate salad, and then a salad of mixed greens, nuts and dried fruit. After that came a bowl of clementines, my Aunt Teresa's wouldn't-be-a-holiday-without-it chocolate mousse and an Italian cheesecake, or pizza di ricotta.

Also for the first time, my mother climbed the three flights of stairs to my apartment (for 16 months she's been claiming bad knees) and there was pleasant conversation, much clinking of glasses, I was complimented on my apartment, my tree, and my cioppino, and no one fought or cried or talked much junk about anyone else. We also pulled on our coats and headed out the door not feeling like our stomachs may burst. A Christmas miracle.

I hope your holidays were warm and wonderful and filled with small moments you're still marveling over. And even more, I hope that the new year has every blessing in store for you.

Love,
Michelle














Pizza di Ricotta

Filling:
2 lbs of ricotta (organic or non-RBST is ideal)
the zest of half a lemon
1 tbspn vanilla extract
1/2 cup sugar
4 eggs
1/2 tsp cinnamon

Pastry for the bottom crust and lattice top:
2 cups flour
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 stick butter
1 tsp vanilla
the zest of half a lemon

Heat oven to 300. Blend the filling ingredients until smooth, and then set the bowl aside in the refrigerator. To make the pastry, simply combine the pastry ingredients (no need to overwork this), divide the dough in two, and roll each into a circle. Use the first circle as a bottom crust, and then pour in the filling. Slice the second circle into 2-inch strips. (If you have a pastry cutter that makes the edges pretty, even better.) Lay half the strips diagonally and the other half vertically, and then crimp the ends where they meet the bottom crust.

Bake for 45-50 minutes, or until the crust is a light golden color. It will still taste delicious if you take it out when the crust is as white as the filling, but I promise you it won't be as appetizing on the table.

Note: Cold the next morning, this is the greatest breakfast ever (for anyone who obsessively loves ricotta).


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In a word: cold!

Twenty-eight degrees and a bright winter sun that, while it was awfully nice of him to show up, did little to really warm anyone. I was in and out, an abbreviated run: more Brussels sprouts (we're addicted, I'll share the new recipe soon), a semolina loaf, two apple danishes, cider, milk and yogurt, and I was hurrying back home to coffee, my sunny dining table, and The New York Times. (Are those last four words cause for some readers to turn away?)

In this weekend's NYT, Gastronomy is an Editor's Choice (hurrah!). Plus, it's the magazine's Year In Ideas issue. Did you know that cows with names produce more milk? Or that a new type of faucet may help to contain kitchen fires? Or that a prefecture in Japan with high levels of naturally occurring lithium in the water has fewer suicides than other areas? I'm just saying, it's not all bad.














*My mother-in-law sent me home from Thanksgiving with a bouquet of red-berried branches from her holly tree, happy to pass them along before the birds, deer and wild turkeys devoured them. I noticed this morning that our neighbors have a beautiful purple variety. Besides crumbs from the waffle truck parked on our corner, what delectables are so busying the Brooklyn birds? These plump gems looked so luscious, I wanted to nibble them myself.
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December's First Saturday: Grand Army Plaza and The New York Times

Last week's profusion of pies and sweet potatoes and other Thanksgiving-side-dish-bound ingredients were all shrunk back to more customary proportions, at Saturday's greenmarket, and instead all things Christmas-y were on full blast.

I arrived with the drizzle of freezing rain that the forecasters had been promising. Combined with never having been an early-December decorator — not wanting the holiday to feel diluted by the time it finally comes around — the sight of freshly cut trees and holly branches and pine boughs did nothing to warm or sway me. I was cold and increasingly damp, and had exactly four thoughts keeping me busy: To secure two Bread Alone almond-apple danishes before they sold out. To make the $30 in my jacket pocket (why didn't I wear a coat!) also cover milk, cheese, fruit and vegetables for the first half of the week. And to get home and back into my pajama bottoms as quickly as possible.

And then there was The New York Times' review of "The Gastronomy of Marriage" in the Book Review.














































I was told a few weeks ago that it might make it in, and I'd been hoping for maybe a thumbnail and a sentence.

And still, over the last week I'd started bleating out a little prayer: Please don't let them be mean to me. Shampooing my hair, brushing my teeth, making the bed, I'd sent this silent mantra to the heavens: Please don't let them be mean to me. Please don't them be mean. It terrified me to think that all the effort of the last five years could be undone — dismissed — with a few words.

In the end "Gastronomy" shared a full page with Julie Powell's "Cleaved," and Christine Muhlke, the food editor of the NYT Magazine, called me "Doris Day" and made fun of me for using canned corn — in February. (An aside: I told this to my non-NYT-reading mother today, who replied, "There really is such a taste difference between canned corn and frozen...")

There were a few comments and snarky asides I'm still thinking through, but in all: A girl could do far worse than canned corn and Doris Day. Relief.

I picked the smallest Brussels sprouts from a pile, traded in two empty glass milk bottles for a full one, and bought apples, pears, onions, curly lettuce, and a quarter-pound of Cato Corners' stinky Hooligan cheese, and headed home with a single dollar in my pocket.

R. took my bags as I came through the door and ground the last of the Stumptown beans, and back in pajama bottoms I plated the danish and sliced up one of the apples. Then together we sat and ate and talked, and enjoyed the crema on our coffees and the sizzle of sleet on the windows.

Which, of course, is the real measure of my days.


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Where the Birds Are: Turkey Shopping in NYC

Turkey shoppers at New York City’s greenmarkets this week may find themselves cursing the early birds. Violet Hill Farm and Quattro’s Game Farm will only have turkeys for customers who pre-ordered. However, for those busy cooks, and spontaneous souls, who’ve left their turkey buying to last moment, there are still a few options beyond the frozen foods section.

Vermont-based Tamarack Hollow Farms, which sets up at the Union Square market on Wednesdays, still has poulet for the purchasing. Its broad-breasted bronzes are free of antibiotics and forage in the farm’s pasture.

“What that means is, the meat tends to take in fat. Because the muscle is being used, it takes fat into the muscle tissue, as opposed to pooling up on the surface. So they’re very tender, super juicy,” said Mike Betit, owner of Tamarack, when reached in his barn. “Pasturing turkeys does a lot of the same things that brining does, just without having to put a lot of water into them.”

Trace elements from the pasture greens also enhance the meat’s flavor. “I don’t know if you’ve ever had a farm egg, but the yolk’s pumpkin orange, and then you get a supermarket egg and it’s like a blanched yellow,” Betit said. “It’s the same thing with a pastured turkey — it’s just heads and shoulders above what you’re getting in a supermarket. You can’t fake that in a barn.”

Due to certain out-of-state “vagaries,” Betit explained, Tamarack sets up a shingle at several greenmarkets but doesn’t sell the turkeys there. To be assured of a bird, call or email Tamarack (details below) before noon on Wednesday. The farm will make arrangements to deliver the turkeys, or else customers can pick them up. Pricing is on a sliding scale, with a per-pound weight of $6 for a 10-pounder and $5.50 for a 20-pound bird.

Additionally, New York’s Hoosick River Poultry will be toting 10 to 15 extra turkeys, along with its pre-orders, to Tuesday’s St. Mark’s market at E. 10th Street and Second Ave. Pasture raised and $4 a pound, the turkeys are broad-breasted whites — the vastly predominant variety, bred for its quick growth and broader breast, versus the country’s native, slower-growing and naturally reproducing heritage breeds.

And finally, the Di Paola Turkey Farm will also be bringing extra birds to the Union Square and 97th St. and Columbus markets on Wednesday. The birds, according to a worker at the New Jersey facility, are "broad-breasted hybrids" priced at $2.99 a pound.

If a heritage breed is a must — and price and carbon footprint are no object — Heritage Foods USA* will FedEx Standard Overnight a never-frozen turkey from one of its network of farms for a Nov. 24 delivery. Pricing, with shipping, begins at $119 for an 8- to 10-pound bird.

As for the all-important question of preparation, a laugh burst from Betit when he was asked for his method. “Wednesday is kind of a big day for me. [By Thursday,] I’m usually in no condition to cook a bird.” He paused for a moment, and the song of peeping chicks came clearly through the phone.

“I’ll have Thanksgiving turkey,” he added, “but it’s usually with whoever’s good enough to take me in.”


• Tamarack Hollow Farm: Order before Wednesday at 802.535.1515 or tamarackhollowfarm@gmail.com
• Hoosick River Poultry: A limited supply will be available Tuesday at St. Mark’s Church greenmarket; you can also reach the farm at 518.686.5564.
• Di Paola Turkey Farm: A limited supply will be available at the Union Square and 97th St. and Columbus Ave. markets on Wednesday.
• Heritage Foods USA: Order for overnight delivery on Tuesday, www.heritagefoodsusa.com
















Should all the whole turkeys be gone, by the time you find your way to the markets, Di Paola's makes a delicious spicy Italian Turkey Sausage. Toss it with pasta, and only the fools at your table will complain.

*UPDATE: Heritage Foods just called to say they'll accept orders until noon E.T. on Tuesday. Also, the majority of the turkeys are coming from the Good Shepherd Poultry Farm in Kansas, which is run by Frank Reese. Heritage describes Reese as the "godfather of heritage turkeys," though his moustache alone is reason enough to visit the site.
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Sunshine and Eucalyptus: Grand Army Plaza

A quick post, which is exactly how I navigated the frosty 8 a.m. market this morning.

First into the bag were red potatoes, onions and garlic, followed by an unwieldy sprawl of black beets and somehow equally long broccoli rabe — a good 18 inches from tip to root — plus a soft, wet head of red lettuce. At the next stall came the apples — four varieties all priced the same for quick weighing — and then on to the second Buon Pane stand for apple-nut danishes to go with the coffee that R. was home grinding beans for.

Final stop was the Milk Thistle tent, where I extracted the two clanking glass quart bottles from beneath the brown bag of flaky danishes and traded them in for new, cold bottles of still-congealing yogurt and medium-fat milk.














































If I wasn't a perfect model of efficiency, it was because the sun was flooding it all. Such a morning! Yellow light warmed the vulnerable bits of purple, yellow and orange carrots, and bouquets of beets, mounded like rose buds. Heads of white, yellow and purple cauliflower were regrettably in shade, but green chard and bok choy bundles glistened, the little white roots on stoic leek trios stood out happily, and buckets of eucalyptus, warming with the day, threw off their comforting cough drop scent.

A note: Should you encounter these blue-gray sirens, wafting their brisk, heady scent your way as you hurry through a late-autumn market with two heavy canvas bags, a loved-one waiting beside the coffee machine, and fingertips gone frozen from coaxing wet lettuce into a plastic bag, stop. Stop and breathe deeply. Appreciatively. Delight in the shape of their leaves, like little school-girl collars, and maybe think about how their scent can suddenly hit a lone jogger in the Los Angeles canyons — a warm, dusty, more-muted scent, making a person suddenly aware that eucalyptus is a real, live growing thing and not something that originates in bathroom potpourri bowls. Inhale and think and smile and maybe snap a picture.

And then move on, sister.

Leave that eucalyptus — with its glue-like sap that will stick to your favorite vase, and your fingers, and then your less-favorite vase, and if you're unlucky also the faucets in the bathroom and maybe your hair and the kitchen counter — for the suckers. Some things are for bringing home, and others are for enjoying where they stand.



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Cheap Date on Heritage Radio

I was a (delighted) guest yesterday on Cathy Erway's "Cheap Date" radio show on Heritage Radio, which is located in an eco-decked-out shipping container in the garden of Roberta's Pizza in Bushwick Brooklyn. Just above it is a roof garden that Alice Waters helped to build.

Have you been listening to the Heritage Radio Network? Me neither, and have we been missing out! You can find it on iTunes or just click on shows straight from their site. You can even click a word from their tag fray, or search a word, and listen to shows with that word in it — even the exact part of the show with that word in it. Very helpfully, each 30-minute show is broken down into two parts, with all topics of the conversation helpfully written down as tags. Gone is any cause to miss even a moment of talk about what it is that suits your fancy.

Cathy, her friend Matt (she likes it to be a boy/girl show) and I talked about cooking at home with and for the person you love, sharing a kitchen with roommates, hangover huevos rancheros, cheap but delicious ideas for pasta, wooing the one you love by washing the dishes, and a whole lot more. You can give a listen right here.

Know the other great thing about being interviewed in a funny shipping container outside of one of New York's best pizzerias? That's right, and it was wood-fired. Just above the below photo of the adorable Cathy is The Good Girl — kale, garlic, taleggio, and Berkshire pork. I'm telling, you, people: RUN, DON'T WALK!

After you've listened to me and Cathy (did I mention that all you have to do is click right here?...) you may want to tune into "Catch It, Cook It, Eat It" with Ben Sargent, otherwise known as the Brooklyn Chowder Surfer, otherwise known as the Special Guest of "The Gastronomy of Marriage" Launch Party. Or this episode of "Hot Grease," in which Liz Thorpe's "The Cheese Chronicles" is mentioned in a top five list of what's on fire, along with the handsome Dante and his delicious Milk Thistle milk. Happy listening.






















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Everyman Coffee Throwdown

Last night baristas from around the city gathered at Everyman Espresso to let off a little steam (har har) and compete in the first round of what will ultimately be an NYC vs. D.C. latte art throwdown.

Throwdown!

Disheartening amounts of good milk and excellent Counter Counter coffee were sent down the drain, but many other beverages were partaken of, numerous dance moves were shown off, a rather competitive coffee community did some seemingly needed bonding, and the true milk-and-foam artisans made themselves known...

Twenty contestants were pared down to 16, and based on their scores — three judges rated each latte on a 1-10 scale for a possible high of 30 points per cup — they faced-off bracket style. And lest you think this was confined to an odd little movie-theater-cum-coffee-bar on E. 13th St., au contraire. There was live streaming and messaging, and each photo was immediately posted to Flickr, where the judges — from various locations around the country — did their judging. All of which was projected onto the ceiling.

A very transparent election, one might say.

























































While the ladies dominated the crowd, in the end two fellas, Dan and Tommy, went head to head for the crown: fame, fortune (the $100 pot from each entrant ponying up $5), a 1st Place pumpkin trophy, and an 8-ounce bag of coffee-lovers-gold, La Esmeralda. In the end, Dan (high-fiving in blue below) was declared the champion, and so will go on to compete against the eventual D.C. winner.

Who will be declared Champion of Foam?...
























Above, the final two entries, after one underwent an unfortunate poke.
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October Rhymes with Baked Macaroni and Cheese...

A rainy day in the 40s and I'm feeling like hunkering down — have all week, in fact, with the weather dipping into the 30s some nights. I baked not one but two apple cakes this week — the first for the writers in the nonfiction workshop I'm teaching, and the second for me and R., with apples that one of the writers generously brought to class. We sliced into it last night, happy to be cozy and inside and settling in for a movie on a Friday night (deep into a Haneke kick), which felt excusable given that we'd more sociably gone from gallery to gallery in the rain Thursday night.

Dinner was a vegetable curry (eggplant, zucchini, carrots, green tomatoes, onions, garlic, chili peppers, cilantro, coconut milk) with Israeli couscous, solely because I love its tapioca-like texture. Earlier in the week there was a baked macaroni and cheese with broccoli, and before that a carrot soup, made with a stock that included their greens. Half of me has relaxed into autumn — is looking forward to carving the little pumpkins on the sideboard — while the other half refuses to put away the flipflops or pull down the box with the gloves, and dreads the day all the greens in the market disappear for the season.

Today I bought mustard greens, purple kale, leeks, and beets. The beets I'll roast, but their tops, the greens, and the kale... I'm thinking of maybe a savory pie, either a light version with ricotta, or else the dense type my mother's mother used to make, with a crust moistened with white wine and a filling studded with anchovies. It was an afternoon's undertaking but it went far, served in thin slices to a crowd of holiday guests. Now to find the recipe...




















































Macaroni and Cheese with Broccoli (serves 6 with a big salad)

3 Tbsp of butter, plus a splash of olive oil, if you have it.
Whatever stale bread you have around
2 cups of milk
1/4 cup of flour
1/4 teaspoon each nutmeg (freshly grated if possible), black pepper, and cayenne
Approximately 2 cups of grated sharp cheddar or gruyere, or really whatever cheese you have on hand; more or less is fine, too.
1/2 cup of Pecorino Romano, or just Romano, or whatever sharp, hard cheese you have; if you don't, maybe just throw in a little extra black pepper and cayenne...
1/2 pound (1/2 box) of elbow macaroni
1 head of broccoli, washed, stem trimmed, and the whole thing cut into just smaller than bit-size pieces
onion/garlic powder
red pepper flakes
salt & pepper

1. Heat oven to 375. In a big skillet, add approximately 1/4 cup of water, the broccoli, a few shakes of red pepper flakes, and a sprinkle of salt. Let this essentially steam, tossing it lightly and removing it from the heat while the broccoli still has a crunch it it. Turn the broccoli out onto a plate (this, versus a bowl, will let it cool more quickly and so slow the cooking.)

2. Wipe the skillet so no water remains. Cut the bread into tiny cubes, warm the skillet and in it melt 1 tbsp. of butter and then add the splash of olive oil. Add the bread cubes, moving them around to toast them gently. Shake a little onion/garlic powder over them, if you have any, or otherwise just season them with salt, pepper, and whatever dried herb you have and like. No herb is fine, too. Turn them out onto a plate or paper towel.

3. Set a pot of water to boil for the pasta. Salt generously. (The Italians say pasta water should be like sea water; I don't go to that extent, but it's something to consider.)

4. In a small saucepan warm the milk. Then, in the skillet, melt the rest of the butter. Add the flour to the butter and whisk, letting them come together and color just slightly, which will take a minute or two. Still whisking, pour in the milk and keep whisking until things thicken. Turn off the heat, move the pan to the next burner, and add the cheeses, spices and salt and pepper, mixing it all together evenly.

5. Cook the pasta until it's a few minutes shy of al-dente (it'll keep cooking in the oven). Drain the pasta and then add it to the cheese sauce. When it's incorporated, add the broccoli and mix that in as well. Pour this into a casserole dish that's buttered (or sprayed with non-stick spray), top with the bread cubes, and bake for approximately 35 minutes or until the bread is browned and the cheese sauce is bubbling (a thing you may only see if, like me, you have a glass casserole dish). Let it cool for a few minutes before cutting and serving.

This dish was inspired by a butternut squash gratin we ate last week and wished had a little more cheese it it. If you roasted such a squash in advance and cubed it, you could add it, or really just about any other vegetable — chopped kale, spinach, green beans. What doesn't taste good with cheese sauce?

















*The photo preceding the recipe is Romanesco Broccoli, a cross between cauliflower and broccoli. You can cook it as you would either of them, and the aroma is (happily) much subtler.
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