Gastropost London

Borough Market is a must in London.  Clockwise from top left: artisanal vinegars, strawberries with fresh Jersey cream, lemon-caramel-coconut bars, real raclette!

© Ms. Glasses, October 2009

Jack’s Luxury Oyster Bar

Last night was the best meal I’ve had in a year at least. Jack’s is nestled in the East Village, maybe 8 tables and a bar, relaxed and slightly lush, warm and sophisticated, all at once. We wandered in without a reservation at 7pm on a Thursday night.

The dishes are small plates with surprising, perfectly balanced flavours, all inventive but easy to access. We didn’t have a single disappointment. We ordered the tasting menu, and added a couple of additions. It came in the following progression and pairings, pitch perfect for 2:

• East Coast Oysters, Bloody Mary foam, celery and
• Crudo of Dayboat Fluke, grapes, buttermilk, basil, chili-salt;

• Potato-fried Octopus, avocado puree, adobo, lime and
• Confit Arctic Char, crisp root vegetables, yogurt, shishito peppers;

• Pan-fried Gnocchi, crisp soppressata, sheep’s milk cheese, parsley puree, lemon balm and
• Fresh Lunguini, beef tendon, cashews, dried ossau-iraty;

• Slow Cooked Striped Bass, smoked creamed corn, potato-dill puree, snap peas;

• Ricotta Beignet, lavender soaked strawberries, salted vanilla yogurt, basil

And then we went to Momofuko Milk Bar a few blocks up for soft serve (cereal milk and peaches and cream) and strawberry cake!

Firefly

This place is sort of the equivalent of Market Table down here. Firefly even has its own farm. Megan and I indulged right before departing on our respective trips (Rome and Delhi).  It was good to catch up:

• crispy soft shell crab with arugula, daikon-green apple slaw & lemon-caper sauce

• braised elysian fields lamb shoulder, fresh pappardelle pasta, sorrel, mascarpone

• spring onion quinoa

• family recipe chicken matzo ball soup

• artisanal american cheeses: “merry goat round” (MD), roth kase grand cru gruyere surchoix (WI), cowgirl red hawk (CA), great hill blue (MA)

Olive oil poached eggs and roasted asparagus

My assistant regularly walks in and tells me we have to go (to some meeting) before I can get more than three bites out of lunch. Today when he came into my office, I hadn’t even opened the package, and I actually said, “I never get to eat my lunch!” This time, it was two harried days in a row like that which engendered the plaintive cry. I felt like a little kid: I just want my lunch!

The pathos of this little scenario increases if you know that on days like this I usually only even manage to find 5 minutes to run out for a sandwich well after 2pm. (Yes, I know that there are actual hungry people in the world. Please let me have a little humour at the end of a long day.)

It was 10pm by the time I got home from work, and I’m hungry. Of course, there’s hardly anything in the fridge, because I haven’t had a chance to stop at the grocery since returning from the cabin. I did bring back a nice bunch of asparagus we didn’t get to use, though, and I always have organic eggs on hand, so voila, olive oil poached eggs over roasted asparaus. Sprinkle with some sea salt and cracked pepper. Too bad I didn’t have any prosciutto or pecorino to top it off.

This is pretty self-explanatory so I’m not going to give a recipe. But here’s a cheat sheet:

• Poach eggs 1 minute for soft yolks
• Roast asparagus at 500 degrees for 10 minutes

And a little tip: to keep your eggs from separating all over the place, add a bit of vinegar when you poach. That will hold the egg together once you break it into the saucepan of water/oil.

Oh, and buy yourself a toaster oven if you don’t have one. If you’re cooking for one or two, it’s faster and more efficient than a conventional one. An excellent one can be had for $25. I use it to roast veggies, bake tiny batches of cookies (frozen cookie dough — homemade, of course! — can make wonderfully warm cookies for two), and broil bacon (yes, bacon — on a wire rack, the fat drips off, and the strips come out flat that way instead of curled up sitting in its own grease).

Taiwan: the culinary life

It’s been exciting to have certain ingredients that can’t be found in the states, particularly veggies — giant pear-shaped squashes, zucchini melons, sweet potato leaves (there are sweet potatoes in America, why aren’t there sweet potato leaves?). It’s great. We make all sorts of soups and stews with them. Hot soup in 34 °C weather is the norm in Taiwan. Oh, and tons of different freshly made, hand-pulled noodles that go into the soups, too. But I dunno whether home-cooked meals like this really blog so well.

Sunday we ventured further than the three-block radius that defines Granny’s simple life. A great-uncle took us out to eat in honor of the completion of a new home he just built. There were toro sashimi, shark fin white cabbage soup, free-range salt-rubbed chicken, red caviar-filled crab on clear rice noodles, deep fried onion pork sausage, sweet potato leaves and garlic, flour-dusted shrimp paste squares (gooey on the inside and so good), steamed fish with ginger, pickled winter melon, and teeny marinated plums. There was more, but I can’t remember it all.

mochi (mo-chee), n. [Japanese, , ]

Granny’s favorite bakery makes the best mochi. If you are not familiar with freshly made, preservative free mochi, you have missed something important in your culinary life. They’re finely pounded, soft, sticky yumminess made from rice, wrapped around delectable sweet fillings — white sesame, red bean, black sugar and peanut, taro, or black sesame. I have one cut into four little triangles sitting on a plate right here. They’re soft and plump and melt in your mouth. Not too sweet, either.

Some of you will be the beneficiaries of a box when I fly back. They don’t keep, so by some of you I mean people I will see immediately upon my return

Market Table

at 54 Carmine and Bedford, from the creators of The Little Owl (I’d originally suspected when the bill came stuck in similar literature — and Maldon salt prominently displayed), only it was breezier, roomier.

gnocchi
short ribs, escarole, parmesan broth

grilled scallops
yellow and red watermelon

arctic char
creamed leeks, mushrooms, crispy onions, balsamic

pan roasted chicken
sweet potato salad, hazelnut brown butter

whole bronzino
spicy sicilian escarole, golden raisins, lemon

The gnocchi was out of control. Oh, and a bottle of very dry white. I really don’t recall what it was.

Speaking of drinking, later in the weekend, a brunch also at Market Table produced a glass of fresh squeezed lemon juice instead of the requested fresh squeezed grapefruit juice! I saw the host look over just as I winced, shrugged my shoulders, and placed both hands over my face for a moment as the sourness passed. I thought, Oh my. And then I realised, lemon juice. I thought it was rather funny, actually, but they were horrified and brought over a rather larger glass of the grapefruit, and took it off the bill.

Ted’s Swedish Pancakes

So I’ve been making this recipe a lot after the weekend in Wilmington. For David, who asked for the recipe yesterday and gave me the idea of posting it, and for Jabin two nights ago when she looked at me and said, Will you make me pancakes sometime? I knew she meant, “I feel like eating pancakes right now and will be extremely happy if you make them for me.” So here it is. Super simple, very yummy. They’re lighter than most pancakes, and come out a bit more like crepes or blinis. I also like that it requires nothing more than what I usually have in the cupboard. I’ve given alternate measurements, the first for a light breakfast for 4, the second for 2-3. For a late-night snack, I halve that, too, and get about 4-5 pancakes.

Ted’s Swedish Pancakes:

• 3 (2) eggs, beaten
• 1 1/2 (1) c. milk
• 1 1/8 (2/3) c. flour
• Scant (2/3) tsp salt
• 1 tbsp (2 tsp) sugar

Mix it all up well. No lumps please! I like to stir using a whisk, but a fork will also do.

Heat the skillet. Use a 1/4 cup measuring when ladling the mixture. It’s nice to use a bit of butter on the pan, but a cast iron (which is what I use) or non-stick won’t absolutely need it (stainless steel will). Leave on one side until the side up is a bit shiny on top, and flip for just a few seconds, say 5-10, on the other side. You can brown them if you like, too.

And of course, you want honey, maple syrup, jam…or actually, they aren’t bad with just a pat of butter, either.

The rest of a funny summer-in-spring day

There were two sessions I wasn’t entirely invested in at the conference today, and it was too lovely out not to take a break with Ashley, who insisted on navigating through traffic to get to Illy. I admit the perfection of the joe that resulted. Thank goodness for it, too, because it kept me from the temptation of skipping out on the rest of the day for a good nap!

I also managed a stop at the office to field two conference calls, one which signed us up for another brief due in early June, and the other which gave me some hope of a replacement for my supposedly interim position by then, too. The duality is nice. I’m a bit worn, but the case, involving an Eritrean asylum seeker captured and persecuted for being a member of one of several banned religions, then conscripted into serving as a prison guard, has been granted cert at the Supreme Court and could not be passed up. And then there is the hope that when all is done, I’ll be able to focus my attentions on the one job I want. Until then, this case should be interesting enough to keep me from lamenting temporary management duties.

I exited the conference building into a warm summer night, inevitably languid. The stroll home was really relaxing somehow on a Friday evening.

Now I’m thinking of the same few meals I seem to return to every time when I’m too tired to cook but want real food. One involves bread, cheese, almond butter, and jam; a second, scallion scrambled eggs with sheets of smoked salmon perched on top; and the third, tuna (Tonno brand straight out of the can — that’s for the truly late night). It sounds a little sad to be such a creature of habit, but, lest you cry for me too much, what I have in the fridge right now is a good morbier, a goat brie (I wanted goat, but tangy and creamy, and that’s what the label said, “goat brie”), and an imported ball of fresh mozzarella (I’ve given up on all the local stuff here except at this tiny Italian grocer that is a bit of a hike up near Cleveland Park). And, a whole loaf of spelt cinnamon raisin English muffins. Yum.

I had many more complications earlier this week making a transportable dinner for twelve. Other people’s food allergies are such a killer (no pun…well). I was so excited I figured something out that was wheat-free, nut-free, even meat-free. Only to discover that Patricia is allergic to beans. Not all beans, but I had about eight different sorts in there, and she was bound to be allergic to one of them. My friends, I cannot be expected to make a hearty wheat-nut-meat-free meal for twelve that is transportable (read: one pot) without beans! She was gracious enough to say it smelled really good while she munched on bread and cheese from Julie and Mark’s fridge.

Speaking of Julie and Mark, they are moving! It’s really horrid of them, as they are sure to want to keep baby Evan with them. I adore that child even though I inevitably get him about 20 minutes before he bursts suddenly into tears indicating it’s time for bed (they call him their 0-to-60). Those 20 minutes are golden, though, he’s such an engaging baby. The conversation went something like this:

Mark: So we’re going to be looking at houses down there.
Me: Wait, you’re moving?!
Mark: Yes.
Me: Are you taking Evan with you?!

Sigh.

Tomorrow I’m up a bit early for a community legal clinic about which I know nothing. James recruited me, and I told him I don’t know anything about anything, but he assured me I would know more than my clients. That’s hopefully true.

The first day’s repast

• Braised Ukrainian pork shoulder with prunes and beets (yes, I do find recipes based on what I happen to have stocked in the fridge)
• Rosemary roasted root vegetables
• Katie’s butternut squash with goat cheese, sage, and jalapenos
• Claude’s pumpkin pie
• Snickerdoodles (I put in twice the prescribed amount of butter, not on purpose, and they were very…soft)
• Three good wines

It was Tom’s favorite meal here, he says, but I think there were greens missing. And, despite the pleasure of sending everyone home with leftovers, I am never braising for more than 7 people again. That was crazy.

2007
2006

Closet Egghead

I’ve spent the last few days almost entirely devoted, between coughing fits and remembering my antibiotics, to researching civil procedure and constitutional law in Azerbaijan. It’s a labyrinth of a system in an extremely complex case involving a 900+ year-old mosque, the collapse of the Soviet Union, and election fraud.

My regular work life is pretty jammed with meetings, people, and a lot of management and policy decisions. There just isn’t much straight litigation-oriented legal research in there. But blissfully, for the last few days, I’ve been sitting at a desk digging through not financials, or a business plan, or even memos or publication galleys, but miles of legislation, ECHR legal briefs, and Azeri translation gaffs. Roderigo messaged me, “Quelle horreur!” But I have to say, I love it. Navigating the maze, figuring out the rules of a foreign country, learning about the process by which, in a short 15 years, it has brought its legal system into compliance with Venice Commission standards of rule by constitutional law, and now litigating one of the first procedural questions under that new system, it’s just fascinating. Bring it on!

It may seem as though lawyers are more likely to be thusly eggheadish than not, but I’d forgotten how much I enjoy the process of solitary learning, thinking, and writing.

There is another side of my job that is wonderful, and I count myself blessed for having both. It’s working directly with people on the ground, so to speak. Walking with a Muslim immigrant through a market in Vienna and learning how she views the place of mosques in Europe; talking to an Asian pastor and understanding why Christianity is the engine of the human rights movement in his country; listening to a Hindu lawyer explain his plan for enforcing change through a suit related to the British colonial system. Some of that is strategy, but a lot of it is just relationship and story. I eagerly wait for answers to the questions, “Do you think of Europe as home?” “How did you become a Christian?” “Do you believe that Malaysia is for the Malays?” And then there is, “How can we help?” I always ask that, even when I know there might be so very little that we can practically do.

It’s really kind of a dream to be able to relate to people in such a direct way, and still get to exercise my nerdy side sometimes, too.

Alas, for all the talk of the pleasures of a good workday, still, I was glad for Steve enforcing a late dinner break to the Snack Taverna on Bedford: Tzatiki, lentil soup, Lamb Stifado, and braised shortribs with pumpkin puree and swiss chard. Next to us was an elderly couple from Portland that had just gotten married in 2003, with seven children, and “four and a half” grandchildren, between them. Steve said the woman was one of the most beautiful older women he’d ever seen. She was so sweet that when Katie stopped in on her way home (who says New York isn’t neighborhoody?), she scooted over and insisted she sit on the bench next to her instead of have us move to a larger table. Life all around. It was such an odd combination of day.