The Hangover Cure

There is nothing worse than a hangover. Yesterday, I woke up feeling not so hot. Water, water, and water is part of the two part process I use to get over it, the other part is brunch. When I am hungover I try to eat as hearty as possible. Serious filling food. I woke up with Roberta's in mind.  

Roberta's is legend in Bushwick and beyond for its out of control totally local gourmet pizzas and outstanding fried chicken voted by Time Out New York as the best in the city. I love it for it's brunch, but to be honest I just really love brunch. It is my favorite meal ever.  

The exterior of Roberta's is totally unassuming. You would totally walk by it and think it was a abandoned warehouse not knowing about the magic that lies within.

We sit down and order up a couple cups of their amazing Stumptown coffee and freshly squeezed orange juice.  

I contemplate keeping my sunglasses on. I also consider getting their breakfast pizza. It's a regular pizza, but it has an egg on it so I call it a breakfast pizza. I really like things that have random eggs thrown in. I even throw an egg in my leftover Thai food just for fun. However, their pizzas are kind of large and Mark doesn't believe in pizza for breakfast, so I would have had no choice but to eat the whole thing. I still ended up eating lots more than I should have. We really get down with our ordering. 

We split a Buttermilk Biscuit with honey butter (we really like biscuits) and Ricotta Pancakes with brown butter, maple syrup, and pears. Then Mark individually got Benton's Bacon, Egg, and Cheese on a buttermilk biscuit of course, while I got the Soft Scrambled Eggs with hen of the woods mushrooms, taleggio, and grilled bread. It was really a lot of food, but we reasoned we needed to get that alcohol soaked up. 

 
Oops! I ate a lot of the biscuit--that honey butter is out of control. The biscuit is so savory and the sweetness of the honey butter is so right. It was as good as a magic carpet ride. A whole new world indeed!

I never imagined a pancake could be so soft. There was definitely a cheese flavor to them that went along so beautifully with the maple syrup. I am not a pancake person but I think next time I will get them on my own so that I  can be little piggy and not have to share!

 
My eggs were so soft it was like a pate. I loved it. They were nice and salty too. Even better were the mushrooms. Mushrooms are my favorite thing in the world next to eggplant. These mushrooms were meaty and huge. The grilled bread is made out the same dough as the pizza dough. It was so chewy and salty. I love my salt. 

It was the perfect hangover breakfast. I felt immediately better and they only thing that could have made better was nap! xoxo happy nibbling!

Food Kingdom

So, Friday night I had no real plans. Mark and I went to Home Depot to pick up the makings of his costume and to the store of randomness to pickup Halloween Candy (Reeses Peanut Butter cups!). I planned to be Pocahantas which I easily purchased on Amazon for $16.99, while Mark decided to do something a little more complicated. Of course, he wanted to be the original Karate Kid, in the Halloween gymnasium scene, wearing the shower curtain costume. It's a dream costume for Mark. Last year, he was one of the baseball furies from the Warriors film--yet another dream. Who am I to stand in the way of Halloween dreams? As a result, I got caught up in the crazy of finagling a mobile shower curtain. This took two hours, the plumbing department, a saw, two men to yell at us, and much hilarity. Needless to say, all this excitement was the cause of a massive appetite. We decided to go to a local favorite, Northeast Kingdom, and the madness began.


Northeast Kingdom is located in an area of Bushwick that makes people wary of going to Bushwick. It is right by a shady subway station, vacant warehouses, and empty streets. If a tumbleweed passed by, I would not be surprised. I have never actually heard of a crime being committed in this area, but I can imagine it. However, like a mirage in a desert, Northeast Kingdom exists like a haven. It is absolutely divine. 


We arrive, take a seat at the bar, and immediately order a couple of cocktails. Mark orders the Old Bushwick which consists of bourbon, ginger ale, lime, and bitters and it is a real drink. It's a Mad Men type of drink super strong and super alcohol tasting. I have a sip and know that if I ever order that it's like clocking in for a work--its a job that you commit to. Of course, Mark loves it. I decided to get the Gin Gin Ginger (I really like ginger) it is made of gin, housemade ginger ale, and raspberry creme de mur. It is tasty although on the sweet side--I like my ginger drinks very gingery.

These two drinks begin a night of too much drinking. A friend meets us, and to be friendly, we order some Six Point craft ales with alcohol contents ranging from 6 to 8. This is was trouble, but local trouble. Not only because we live right by the locale, making the trip home so easy peasy, but local because these beers, like most of the food at Northeast Kingdom, is locally made whether in the BK or New York itself making everything that much tastier. These beers are so good and like classy folk we have it with a cheese plate. We have a brie served with apple sauce and mini mini buttermilk biscuits. I wish had a pic, but I was so excited to eat it I halfway gobbled it up before I remembered. I've had cheese with honey before and definitely with jam, but never with applesauce. It was a whole new world especially with the biscuit. It was like having a mascarpone apple turnover on a biscuit. So yum!


For an entree, I ordered the the chicken pot pie made with organic local chicken, fall vegetables, and served with a green salad. Mark ended up getting the maple roasted pulled pork on a buttermilk biscuit with housemade pickles. Our friend was there to drink so we had no choice, but to order another round and maybe a couple of more.

I wasn't mindful enough to taste Mark's entree, but he says "it was a sweet pulled pork and the biscuit really complemented it well". He ate it all so it had to be good. It kind of looked like a pulled pork burger. I was suppose to eat his pickles, he's not a fan, but in all the excitement of my meal I completely forgot. The crust of my pie was so flaky on the outside and melty soft on the inside. I burned my tongue trying to eat the chicken and vegetables. I was that into it-I still kept going though. It was tasty, light, and still completely comforting--a perfect fall meal. All the veggies were soft, but still firm and the chicken was very moist. I ate every bite and was sad to not have a spoon to drink up the juices at the end. Salivating just remembering it.

However, as much as I would like to say the night ended there, it didn't.  As for me I had one cocktail, four beers, and random glass of prosecco with random girls I didn't know. A dangerous recipe for girl of my height and weight.  You do not want to know. The boys didn't do any better. They were doing shots of tequila. I will now stop going into any further detail, to protect those involved, but you know that mini pumpkin in the cocktails image? I woke up with two of those in my purse. How? Why? Not sure. Happy Halloween and xoxo happy nibbling! 

http://www.north-eastkingdom.com/

I love Sweets!

I don't know why, but I can't resist a sweet treat. The other day I was in the East Village and had no choice, but go to an Italian pastry shop. I had been to Veniero's once last year and was blessed enough to go in a group and so I got to taste a little of everything. This time I was alone and had some tough choices to make.

I was really torn. Do I go with a couple of minis or do I go for the lobster tail (a flaky shell stuffed with bavarian cream) ? A friend of mine, an Italian friend of mine, has always raved about lobster tails and she can't even eat dairy anymore. The memory of it was so sweet. In her honor and because the lobster tail didn't come in mini form, I got the lobster tail and strawberry shortcake. I figured Mark and I could share. 

 

I imagined the lobster tail to be a combination of croissant and a bavarian cream donut, but it ended up being so much more. The cream was sweet but not too sweet and there was nothing processed about it--it was the real deal. You know the flavor strawberry cream? I would have dipped an entire of carton of strawberries in that cream. The crust was flaky but not hurt your mouth hard. The texture was a perfect fit to that oh so tasty cream.

 I know that I should have maybe not gotten the strawberry shortcake. We would have been fine sharing that lobster tail or if I had to get something else why not something special? something Italian? It just looked too good.

 

And it was. It was so good. I couldn't imagine a different variety of cream that could compare to this bavarian but this whipped was a whole different animal. There was something a little lighter and almost cheese like and combined with the soft fluffiness of the shortcake--I was in heaven.

Now its all about resisting a second visit to Veniero's this year. How can I? xoxo happy nibbling!

Obsessed

Can not stop wanting to eat Shio Ramen Soup:

Chicago, a Synopsis

So, whenever I go on a vacation, I am always torn: do I just enjoy my vacation or do I take pictures of the vacation I should be enjoying? Reader, I enjoyed my vacation. I really did not even think of taking pictures, although I did enjoy many a meal that really should have been documented. I can only do the second best thing and tell you about them. With some internet photos just to give you an idea of what I'm talking about.

First of all, can I comment on how disgusting everything feels at LaGuardia airport? I know disgusting is such a strong word, but as hungry as I am (or think I am) I can never stomach anything there. Everything has such a an airport sheen to it. You know that feeling when you are on plane and you are sick of your book, can't focus on the movie, and know you will not be able to sleep. You feel trapped and know that you have no choice but to wait it out.  The food at LaGuardia airport feels like that. My flighted boarded at 8am so I chose sleep instead of eats at home and thought to pick something up at the airport because like any good midwestern girl I need my breakfast.  

At the United Terminal, there are two options the gourmet shop which is kind of like the gourmet deli's in New York--not gourmet at all just a fancy sign or Au Bon Pain. Ordinarily, I like Au Bon Pain, but the the one at the airport is questionable to me--questionable like street meat. I feel like it's a bootleg Au Bon Pain. Everything looks a little spoiled, a little greasy, and the feel that has been sitting out for a while. Even the bagels look stale. Even the asiago cheese one. I ended up getting the fruit and cheese plate. I mostly ate the crackers and grapes because I thought the cheese tasted like airport. It made me feel sad. Unsatisfying food always makes me feel sad.


Anyway, after I landed, my BFF and I ended up going straight to breakfast. I imagined that my airport food did not exist. We ended up going to Earwax which has lots of sentimental value to me. It is the locale of one of Mark and I's first dates. Its dinner menu has a lot of healthy options and things like seitan, soy, and tofu. At the time, I was a fast food junkie (I was 18!) so I was afraid and got the tuna melt. I thought it was good. However, ten years later, at breakfast, I took it simple and got a Greek omelet with potatoes, toast, and jam and the best eating accompaniment--good conversation. The food was delicious the omelet was fluffy, the potatoes soft and well seasoned, and most of all it tasted like home. My shoulders relaxed and it felt like the three years I've lived in New York never existed. I was home before I finished my first cup of coffee.

After an afternoon of shopping, mostly browsing, we decided to catch a movie. I'm going to interject here to say that  I came home to visit my best friend. We have seriously been best friends for 22 years. Kind of insane when you really think about it. Anyway, since we hadn't seen each other since March, we thought it was high time to get together and do all things we missed doing together. All the things you take for granted when you can do it anytime, but end up missing when its been half a year. Usually, my visits are a whirlwind of trying to see as many friends and family as I can, but this time, I came just to hangout with my BFF hence the shopping and movie. So we decide to see a movie, but immediately come across the problem
of being hungry while the movie is about to start in 15 minutes. As you all know, movie theater food is randomly so expensive and definitely not healthy, so we decide to kick it super old school high school style and pick up food elsewhere and sneak it in. Right away we have our hearts set on Potbelly's, a Chicago based sandwich chain.

It looks amazing right! We actually very quickly walked six blocks and went up four escalators and risked missing the beginning of the movie for this sandwich. It comes in two sizes regular and big. We split a big turkey sandwich with all the fixings mayo, mustard, lettuce, onion, tomato, pickle, oil and Italian seasoning. Of course, we got a bag of salt and vinegar chips to go with it. Once we settled into the movie the theater we placed said bag of chips between us, slid our bottled waters on the exterior drink holders, split our sandwich, and were as happy as clams. Our only discomfort being the loud crunch of the salt and vinegar chips--people didn't need to know how much we enjoyed our illegal eats!

After the movie, we went home to change for what else? dinner! We decide to go to Las Palmas where in the past I have enjoyed this amazing sizzling steak in a molcajete with sizzling onions, cactus, and cheese complete with tortillas. Do you see the drool on my keyboard? We get there with no reservations of course and realize that there is an hour wait. We give our name and run across the street for a drink.


We go to The Southern, which is new to me. It definitely has a Southern theme. The bartenders are all in in suspenders and bow ties and all have serious moustaches. You know what I'm talking about those long curling moustaches. We each grab a Southern influenced drink. My BFF gets the Dirty Peach a vodka, peach schnapps, lemonade, and mint infusion, while I get the Southern Belle a rum, chambord, lemon juice, and prosecco concoction.  We take these drinks and sit outside and enjoy these by the fire. I do have an actual picture for this. Her drink was strong like bull, while mine was very sweet. 

We go back to the restaurant and wait a little more with a couple of margaritas, because why not I was on vacation! Once we are seated, I was so disappointed to find that the steak I dreamed about not longer existed. They had changed the menu. Time does go on when you live somewhere else. I had imagined that time stopped. However, the guacamole still stands, so we order that and I am so happy to be eating real serious guacamole again. If anyone knows me they know that I take my guacamole very seriously.  I ended up ordering the Mar y Tierra aka the Surf and Turf. It is basically a grilled 4 oz filet mignon and pan-seared shrimp with sweet potato-chipotle puree, jalapeño chimichurri, and sautéed baby spinach & baby carrots. It was so good it almost made up for my sizzling steak because imagined things are always tastier. Still, it really was short of amazing. I wish I had it in front of me now.

After dinner,  we go to a couple of nearby bars and end the night eating a just a little more. We stop by a restaurant that is new to me too, so much is new to me now, called Angels are Mariachis. This is where I kind of got taken over to the edge. We shared the Queso Fundida which is basically  a melted cheese dip that you can roll into a corn or flour taco. It was so good because how can cheese not be good but it made me really full. Well, the strawberry basil mojito I had probably didn't help either. I then went to bed with a sensitive stomach because like a piggy I don't know when to stop eating.


When I wake up the next morning I obviously have learned nothing because I start my day with an appetizer of an old fashioned donut. I really like plain donuts especially with a coffee so yum. Not even an hour passes and we decide to got to brunch. We go to the cutest place, not far from where I use to meet a boy in my high school years, called The Portage. My BFF and I did what we call "The Special" meaning we split a couple of things but we just like to call it  "The Special". After school, we used to go to her house and split a tuna sandwich and ramen noodle soup and we called it "The Special". Sometime we were extra fat and did "The Extra Special" meaning we each got a tuna sandwich and each had a package of ramen noodle soup. Oh the days of no diets! This time we split the Eggs Benedict (poached egg on toasted english muffin, with sautéed artichoke hearts, country ham, and hollandaise) and the 
Pulled Pork Chilaquiles (pork chilaquiles, with tortilla strips and eggs). It was the perfect meal which we felt had to be completed with three scoops of homemade ice cream (chocolate, ginger lemon, and buttery popcorn). It was all so divine but so so filling. I really had no business but it was "I'm on vacation who knows when I'll be back eating". Needless to say, I had big workout plans for my return home.

My visited lasted longer, but that was my last meal in Chicago. Later at O'Hare airport, I wanted to want to eat. O'Hare airport is the most magical of airports. It is the exact opposite of LaGuardia, you want to eat everything at O'Hare. It has representations of so many good Chicago restaurants, but I really couldn't eat one more bite. I got a ginger tea and hoped my stomach would settle from all of my good eating. xoxo happy nibbling!

 

Sesame Soy Meatballs

So, Mark is not a huge fan of Asian food. He is rarely in the mood to eat it out the world and is definitely very sad when I make it home. I'm sad too, because if he is not into it, I am tasked with eating all of it. And to be honest, despite wanting with all my heart for it to be otherwise, I am not very good at making it. My stirfrys are tragic and all my attempts at beef with broccoli end in disaster. Even my shrimp fried rice is so-so.


What make matters worse is that I LOVE  Asian food. I am almost always in the mood for it. It makes me very happy. For me, eating Asian food is like coming home. My Filipino mother, Maxie, is an outstanding cook. She even had her own restaurant in the Philippines and partnered in catering company here in the US. You have never had an eggroll if you have not had Maxie's lumpia. I have dreams about it and Mark does too. Mark never has any trouble eating Asian food when my Mother is in the kitchen, but then again if he didn't eat it, he would probably get in trouble. Maxie has no sympathy for people who are not part of the clean plate club. 

Before every visit, I load my fridge up with all the ingredients she would need to cook about five meals. She makes about 12 servings of each meal. There is only three of us. This leaves me with lots of leftovers to freeze and enjoy even when she is gone. Mark likes this too. One time she left 50 eggrolls in the freezer for him. Just for him. 50 eggrolls. She really loves him. I think more than me. For real. 


The thing is my Mother never taught me how to cook. Yes, I am blaming Maxie for all my Asian food failures. Growing up, she would tell me that I needed to learn how to cook, but never actually taught me. There were some sessions here and there where I would sit with my notebook and try, but my mother was not a teacher. She wouldn't tell me what she was doing and when I asked about measurements she would look at me like I was crazy.  She would say, "I'm cooking that is what I am doing!" She honestly has never used a measuring cup or teaspoon in her life. She is just a master. When I would ask how long to cook x,y and z, she would respond, "cook it until its cooked". I would then say, "but for how long mom?". "Until it is is finished cooking". I sometimes would try another route, "but how do you know its cooked?". She would respond "when you can see that its cooked!". Obviously, these lessons went nowhere. So, here I am, a cook who has no idea how to cook the food I love most in the world. But I try.  Fearfully, again and again.


So recently, I gave it another go. I saw a recipe in Cooking Light Magazine for Sesame Soy Meatballs. I know how to make meatballs. How can this go wrong?

The recipe called for the following ingredients:


1/3 cup minced green onions
2 tablespoons brown sugar
3 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons dark sesame oil (I only had toasted sesame oil I assumed that was fine)
1 table spoon chili paste
1/4 salt
6 minced garlic cloves (I used 4 Mark is not down with too much garlic)
1 pound ground sirloin


I wanted to add to the meal so I added rice and one red and green pepper.


First, I get the rice cooking and preheat the oven to 400. I then combine all the meatball ingredients in a large bowl and shape about 20 meatballs.

I then cut up the peppers into long strips and set aside.

I place a little oil in a sauce pan and brown the meatballs for a about 4 minutes. They started to smell really amazing. I became confident a this point that this meal could turn out to be good!

I then transfer the meatballs to a glass pan coated with cooking spray and place in the oven for 7 minutes. In meantime, I place the peppers in the same pan I used to cook the meatballs in to allow all that meatball juice to flavor the peppers. I cook on medium high for 7 minutes or until peppers soften.

I take a plate and add the rice that's been on standby and top it with meatballs and peppers. Viola! 

It turned out to be really good. How can meatballs go wrong? I thought that the soy sauce, sesame, and chili paste would give the meal a more Asian flavor, but biting into it there was something very middle eastern about it. Mark's thought was that it would great in a pita with some cucumber yogurt sauce. I agreed. Since there are plenty of left overs, he is going to try to make that happen. Hopefully, he can take a quick pic for us to see.


Though it seems that I failed at making another Asian meal I have triumphed on the middle eastern side.  You win some. You lose some. Maxie is coming for the Thanksgiving holiday maybe I will document the master at work. She is either going to be so annoyed with me for interrupting her cooking or see herself as another Rachael Ray. Good times either way!


I am going home this weekend so it should be quiet on the blog front this weekend, but I'll be back with lots of news on my hometown flavor. xoxo happy nibbling!

The Perfect Hour

Words can never say enough about how perfect an hour with a good book and mugful of cappuccino can be.

 

Guacoloco!

So Mark is Colombian and it was through meeting him and being a girl he could take to meet his Mama that I was able to get to know the amazingness that is an arepa. The first time I went out to eat with with Mark and his Mom was at a little Colombian bakery right off Lincoln Avenue in Chicago. There we sat and had crisp empanadas, the unique taste of bunelos, the sweetness of arequipe, and you guessed it sweet corn arepas with a layer of lightly melted queso blanco on top. It was divine--Mark's mom and I even went a couple of times without him it was so good. 

Just recently, meaning this Summer, a little Venezuelan restaurant, called Guacuco opened right here in Bushwick and when Mark and I finally checked it out we fell in love--with the arepas that is!

Quick South American history lesson: As you may be aware, Colombia and Venezuela are next door neighbors and way back in the day, under Simon Bolivar, were even one country---Gran Colombia. Unfortunately, this didn't work out and they've been frenemy neighbors ever since. The best the thing that came out of all of this, however, has been their mutual love of arepas and like all love it comes under different interpretations. Colombia likes to melt some cheese on top and Venezuelans--they make it in to a sandwich. It is like the burger of Venezuela.

You may be asking why do I say Guacoloco? It is called Guacuco. Well, a time or two I have been to a little Lower East Side joint called San Loco that carries an item on their menu called the Guacoloco taco. For some reason, I got this menu item and name of the arepas place confused (say Guacoloco and say Guacuco--it sounds the same right?).  When I figured it out, after calling it Guacoloco for months, I decided to to keep calling it that because I like guacamole. Guacoloco sounds like crazy guacamole to me and I really like the idea of guacamole being crazy and so the name stayed.


However, there is no actual guacamole at Guacuco. There is, however, lots of avocado if you so choose. Mark and I stopped over this afternoon and I picked up the Vegetariana. I am not a vegetarian but it is just so good I can't resist. It contains slices of super fresh avocados (I am loco about avocados), Venezuelan guayanes cheese, sweet plantains, and a slice of tomato to keep things fresh. See the pic below. Seriously, how good does that look?

The arepa has a great crisp outside and yummy breaking apart inside. The sweetness of plantain combined the saltiness of the cheese is such an opposites attract kind of moment. It is so smooth and the avocado and tomato are amazing compliments. Each arepa comes with three different sauces to choose from: spicy, a mayo based option, and a herb sauce. I opted to do different bites with the spicy and herb. I couldn't decide which I like best--both are so good.


Mark chose to get Pabellon arepa. This included: shredded beef, white salty cheese, sweet plantians, and black beans. His was not as light as mine, but from what I gathered with my small bite, it is hearty and comforting--a perfect winter's meal. It was spicy and incredibly tender and all the elements really put together entire meal placed in one little sandwich--it was like a Cuban Ropa Veija in an arepa.

 Needless to say while we were walking those three blocks home after our meal we felt very sleepy and considered the best possible thing to do after a yummy meal--a nap! xoxo happy nibbling!

http://www.yelp.com/biz/guacuco-brooklyn 

A Slice of Chicago

Living in New York and telling people I'm from Chicago usually leads to a pizza conversation. Sometimes there is a city question "which one do you like better?" meaning you better like New York better, but mostly there is the pizza question. Who has the better pizza?


Now, when I first moved here, I would unabashedly say "Chicago pizza!" but soon learned that was the wrong thing to say. New Yorkers are very serious about their pizza and are always quick to defend their slice of pie though admittedly most of them have never tried a Chicago-style pizza or if they have, it usually this  monstrosity--the Chicago Style deep dish pizza:

A deep dish pizza to Chicagoans is like spaghetti to those in Italy. Something that its known for, but locals don't really eat all that much. It's good, but, to most, just way too filling--a little too much. It really is like eating a vat of cheese. So when New Yorkers say Chicago style pizza is disgusting (and they do to my face!) I have the distinct feeling that they are talking about the deep dish.


What they don't know about is the perfect goodness of a Chicago thin crust pizza. The ideal Chitown thin crust is heavy on the sauce, layered with the filling of your choice (my choice is almost always pepperoni and mushroom) and topped with a generous portion of cheese. It is then baked until the top is slightly browned and cut into small squares allowing the piece that you choose to have its own unique taste. For instance, if you take a square closer to the outside you get piece that's crisper and has a distinct crust, but if you get one from the middle it is extra ooey gooey and cheesey. Since the squares are usually not the same size, you can always go for one more small piece that is actually small. And trust me you always are going for one more small piece!


The first year I moved to New York, I got deathly sick. Although, I was sweating through my sheets sick, strangely enough I still had a very healthy appetite. Seriously, even when I am sick I can eat! I think I even eat more. So I was missing my Mom of course, because no one makes much of you when you are sick like your Mom, which made me miss my friends, which made me miss my city, which lead to me to really wanting a Chicago Style thin crust pizza (this is how my mind works). I then laid in bed barely breathing and searched the internet for a NYC restaurant that would serve it. 

I immediately found the sad Pizzeria Uno, which, in its New York incarnation, is nothing like its home location. In New York, its basically a TGI Fridays or Chilis. Lot of nachos, wings, cheese sticks, but it doesn't really serve pizza just some flat bread thing. I then proceeded to search the internet for hours with naps in between. I was in a pizza frenzy but nothing came up. I was so prepared to have Mark go anywhere in New York to pick it up, to be that big of a brat, but alas no results. Nowhere in New York does anyone make Chicago style thin crust pizza. I then proceeded to try to get it shipped  next day from Chicago--because I am that much of a manaic. Unfortunately, the only pizza any Chicago restaurant would ship was a deep dish and I was not having that. I gave up and then died. No I didn't! I probably had Thai and went to sleep exhausted from my pizza search, because that is what I eat when I am sick. However, the moral of the story is that is how good Chicago style thin crust pizza is. I was dying for it!


Living in New York for three years now, I have come to appreciate the subtle beauty of a New York style slice--and it is always a slice never a square. There is a greater attention paid to the bread. The bread must be crisp, but soft enough to fold in almost taco form which I love because I love tacos!  They are easy on the sauce and sparing on the cheese yet you taste each component distinctly.  Most of all, its the New York slice of the movies, the slice that you think of when you dream of New York, it is a slice of New York.


When I have the pizza conversation nowadays, I am answer the same answer I give to the City question. They are different, but amazing in their unique way. Chicago is comforting and New York is iconic, I love them both.


I'm going home this weekend and can't wait to grab piece of my hometown. xoxo happy nibbling!


Images of Chicago Thin Crust Pizzas

 

Clams Away--A Tale of Madness and Murder

I'm an old fashioned gal and love love love making Sunday dinner. Growing up, every Sunday, my Grandmother would throw down in the kitchen making goodnesses such as fall apart pot roast, sweet glazed ham, awe inspiring meatloaf, and other amazing comfort food. There was also, almost always, peach cobbler involved and ordinarily I do not like peach but for some reason that peach cobbler just did for me.

What made it even more special was that Sunday was the only day my Grandmother would cook and she was (still is!) an outstanding cook. Even my Grandfather, our Monday through Friday cook, would step away and let the master do her work. 

So, unless there is some pressing activity planned, on Sundays, I almost always cook something special something that is just not rushed time sensitive Monday through Friday type of cooking. And, when its cold weather time, it is a sure thing. I am crazy about Sunday dinner like going through cookbooks for hours crazy for Sunday dinner.


As much I love cooking for my hubster and as much he likes eating my Sunday dinner, there is nothing more special than having friends over to enjoy it too. Plus, to be honest, I always make too much. Sometimes, what's amazing for the first two days can be utterly boring on the third--trust me!


Anyway, I invited some friends over for dinner this Sunday and wanted to impress--because all cooks want to impress. Even someone who invites you over for leftovers wants to impress and no one wants to disappoint. Besides, one of my friends told her boyfriend (who I never cooked for) that I was a great cook. Of course, I wanted to live up to the hype.

So I think and think and come up with a game plan--paella. It is kind of a restaurant type of food not something that you usually get at someone's house, unless of course you live in Spain, and I had made it before.


I actually have an insanely shockingly easy recipe. I totally thought it would be so no problem at all.  I even wondered if I was actually turning it out if it was so effortless. I didn't know what was coming to me. 


I go to the grocery store and pickup the following ingredients (for 10 generous servings):


4 chorizo sausage links
2 cups chopped onion
1 cup chopped green pepper
1 cup chopped red pepper
4 teaspoons minced galic
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon saffron threads (this is randomly expensive but worth every penny)
3 cups uncooked rice
3/4 cup water (obviously I didn't buy this but you need if you want to follow recipe)
1 teaspoon marjoram
1 28oz can of diced tomatoes (I get the San Marzano because I just love it)
2  8oz bottle of clam juice
1 pound of medium shrimp peeled and deveined (I get the frozen uncooked shrimp because I find it fresher)

So, I pickup all these things and think to myself "I need something else. A regular old shrimp and sausage paella just will not do". I contrive to get a couple lobster tails. Of course, I have no idea how much this costs and I never find out because Whole Foods does not sell lobster anything--tails or otherwise. I then hangout at the seafood counter for a long time making the counter person feel awkward, because I say I do not need help but look very confused anyway. I consider the scallops, but reject them almost immediately. I had a bad experience cooking scallops. I couldn't figure out if they were done and ended up cooking them to inediblity. I then spot the clams--the most obvious ingredient to paella. I have always feared cooking clams and mussels. To me they are definitely restaurant fare never to be tried at home. Something about debearding the clams seemed so intense. Just too much. More than I can handle. But I had guests and a random obsession to do something else. I spot a sign that says that they are already debearded. I order 15 and she gives me the bag. At check out I realize the clam bag is open I promptly tie it up and say "yes please put it in a cold insulated bag". 


We take the subway home. I unpack everything. I place the bag in the fridge. My Husband and I clean like crazy, because as much as it used to annoy me when my Mom did this before dinner parties, I am finding that I am my mothers daughter. I shower. Hours go by. I check my email and although I know I am going to steam them up at the end I google how to cook clams just for fun and then am immediately horrified!


Holy ****!  Those clams were (ARE????) alive. I read: Do not tie in bag. They will die. Do not eat dead clams.

I have no idea why, but I thought people bought clams dead. I thought when you cooked them it was like warming them up kind like a nice fillet of salmon.  I am from the Midwest.  Clams are restaurant food. I didn't know! Most of all, I am no killer. I am so sad when I enjoy my lobster roll knowing what happened. Seriously, I screamed when Amy Adams killed the lobster in that Julie and Julia movie. 

I then google dead clams. How can you tell if your calms are dead? Images: dead clams. I learn clams are dead if they are open and don't close. 

Cautiously, I move towards the kitchen. I grab a pot and fill it with cool water. Google also told me it is good to soak them in there so that sand and stuff can come out. That is if my clams didn't died a suffocating death in plastic bag.  Shamefully, I remove them from the cold pack. I tear open the plastic bag that I belated notice has a sticker that reads live clams. I scream as I carefully throw them in the pot. I notice none of them are open. Maybe they are alive. I tap them a little. Nothing happens. I confess everything to my Husband who was obliviously playing a video game while I played a game of life and death. He is shocked and appalled. I wish I told him nothing. He use to be a vegetarian (pre-me). I think maybe he will become a vegetarian again due to all this madness.

I cut vegetables and try not to think about the clams. Of course, I Facebooked this whole drama. A friend suggests setting them free. Set them free where? I must do the deed. I have no choice. I sealed their fate when I asked for 15 please.

I throw the chorizo in the a huge wok pot pulling the meat out of the encasing placing them in meatball form. I then add onions, peppers, and garlic. I cook for about 10 minutes. Then I throw in the pepper, saffron, and rice. I let the rice cook like this for 5 minutes. I feel like doing this releases some the nuttiness of the rice into the flavor concoction. I add everything else, but the shrimp. I cover with foil as tight as I can. I cook for 20 minutes.


At this point my guests are already here and I have had a glass of wine or two for courage. I add the shrimp. I cover again knowing my time is near. 10 minutes go by. It is time. 

I drain the clams slowly. I move with them towards the stove. I remove the foil and quickly (so quickly) I throw them in and cover with foil again. I place another sauce pan on top to make sure that no steam escapes. I hope that it is quick. I wonder if they were dead anyway. They were in that sealed bag for so long. Maybe I had already been merciful if a plastic bag death can ever be called merciful. And I also thought, so very shamefully, I hope they do open. Meaning, I hope they were alive, because it would really suck if they were dead and I have to throw them out. Not to mention awkward for my guests. Could they have survived hours in a sealed plastic bag in the fridge. Is it possible? Did I really just steam something to death. Am I am so cold?


Moments go by and shyly I peek under the foil. They opened! They were alive! I am a killer! I take out a plate and serve the paella up.

The rice is fluffy and soft. Flavor is savory and and abundant. The chorizo is smoky and oh so heedy and the clams--everyone liked the clams. I breathed. So glad next Sunday is a week away. Salut! xoxo happy nibbling





 

With Whiz Please

So the year before last, for Mark's birthday, we decided to take a little trip away to Philadelphia.  Now on this trip we ate random good Chinese food and random good Cuban food, but what really impressed us is what Philly is known for, the Philly Cheese Steak.

I don't know if we even intended on eating one or what our plan was, but as we were wandering around we came across this massive line and the amazing aroma of sizzling meat and onions. We couldn't resist we got in line at Jim's Steaks. 

  
We waited in line for 45 minutes and for a November day it was chilly,  but we were warmed by our fellow diners comments. Everyone kept saying that it was so good, that is was the best, and most of all you have to get it with the Whiz.


Well, I don't know about you, but Cheese Whiz is kind of scary to me. Number one because it doesn't expire and number two because its dairy that doesn't have to be refrigerated.  However that day I was ready to give it a go. A cheese steak with whiz please! I have to say it was delicious.

The hoagie was nice and crusty and the steak was wet enough to moisten the interior to gooey yumminess. The steak itself was flavorful and onions and peppers just added to its complexity while the whiz (the blessed whiz!) just brought it all together creating a blanket of cheesey goodness for me to sink my teeth into. It didn't feel so scary at all.


Now a couple years later I want one, I crave one. Yes, I'm sure I can find a cheese steak somewhere in New York City, but it's not the same, its not Philly. There's no Rocky there's no Jim's Steak. I think a day trip is in order. Next stop Philly, after all Mark's birthday is coming up again. xoxo happy nibbling!

http://www.jimssteaks.com/index.html 

A Salt and Battery

So, Mark and I are going on our belated honeymoon during the holidays. The plan is: Christmas in London, some time in Paris, and New Year's in Amsterdam. Of course in all of this excitement, I had to make a food plan. I love culture and all, but basically I vacation to eat. Seriously when I travel, I always wish I was more hungry so I can try more of the local flavor. Some people plan their trips thinking of the sights and sounds--I plan the restaurants or at the very least plan to be in the areas where there is a greater chance of good restaurants.

Aside from love and romance, on my honeymoon I plan to eat/drink the following (listed by country of course):


United Kingdom

• Fish and Chips at a proper pub with a pint of beer (imagine that said in a British accent. Nice right?)
• A full tea service (with the finger sandwiches,scones, and other goodness. I'll be having English Breakfast tea of course)
• Curry (every contemporary British novel or movie I have ever watched have people going for curry, so I am going to make it happen. I imagine it will be amazing--the best curry ever.) 

France

• Croissants (in plain and chocolate form, though this chocolate croissant business could be some American thing like the Boston roll at sushi restuarants)
• Escargot (I had a dream about them when I was 13 years old--seriously. In the dream, I ate them and thought they were delicious. I woke up wanting them, but in the midwest this was just not possible and although I have had opportunities since, it has not felt right. They may be right in Paris)
• Vietnamese Food (I just have a feeling that this is amazing in Paris, it did used to be a colony, so some amazing cooks must have immigrated at some point)
• Moroccan Food (ditto with above)  

The Netherlands

• Kraft Beer (apparently they are known for them)
• A brownie?? (haha!)

Anyway, Mark was off yesterday and I had the day to myself so I thought being two months away from our trip we could whet our appetites by going down to Greenwich Village and trying the highly recommended fish and chips joint, A Salt and Battery. 

Located in the cutest of neighborhoods, A Salt and Battery  is a tiny shop that caters to-go orders with limited pretty counter top seating along the window and wall.  Still, even upon arriving the smells already give me a clue as to why this place is so popular.

This is basically New York's only authentic British Fish and chips shop.  It offers locally grown sustainable produce doing things like using locally caught pollack instead of cod (cod has been overfished) using potatoes from Long Island and fish caught by local day-boat fishermen. All of this helps in making the fish fresher and tastier. Plus it brings me a little closer to that Deadliest Catch show on the Discovery Channel, which I never watched, but am strangely curious about.  

Check out the serious Union Jack action happening in the shop. The man who took our orders also had a delightful British accent that made me very happy. Mark and I were also pleased to hear an exchange between the counter guy and another customer. The customer kept insisting that he wanted fries and the counter guy says (again imagine a British accent), "Sir, we don't have fries, we only have chips". We really liked that. Of course the customer kept mumbling about fries, until everybody decided to ignore him. This chat really made our experience.

This is their fish menu and they offer a full selection beer too. I'm not sure if beer is a to-go item, but if it is, how awesome is that?

While we were waiting, I noticed this plaque on the wall. As I looked closely, I realized that this place has been featured on Bobby Flay's Throw Down. I got really excited then. As you can imagine, I am a huge Food Network fan. The most of exciting thing of all---it looked as the though A Salt and Battery won. Drool began to converge on my chin.

  
Finally the food arrives and it is magical. The batter looks crisp and it sits upon a salad of french fries---I mean chips. The counter is set with malt vinegar and an ice cold Stella Artois sits at my left. I grab extra napkins because I don't know how messy this is going to get.  I see that the homemade tartar sauce it mustardy in texture. I prepare to dig in.

Crunchiness is met by silkiness as the bits of fish tear apart in my mouth. It is delicious. No grease but pure goodness of flavorful batter and moist fish that has been cooked but not dried out. I ask myself to slow and down and savor it and alternate bites of fish with potatoey chips. Unlike some fries that are overcooked over fried, these chips are mini baked potatoes. Soft and carrying all the tastiness that can be packed into a potato. My only discontent? Lots of chips not enough fish. Next time I'm going for the 8oz serving. So yum. Now I really can't wait for Europe. Fish and chips--here I come!  xoxo happy nibbling!

http://www.asaltandbattery.com/ 

Swiss Enchiladas

Ok, so I don't know if you know, but I am crazy about Mexican food (you will also find I am crazy about Japanese food, Thai food, French food, sweet food, cold food--you get the picture). Honestly though, I like my Mexican food which is sad, because I simply can't find Chicago quality Mexican food in New York. Strangely enough, a lot of them seemed to owned by Chinese. Which is fine, but not what you would expect. If you have any suggestions please let me know, although I do have pretty discerning taste when it comes to Mexican food. 

For instance, you know that Anthony Bourdain from the Travel Channel? He came to Bushwick (my hood) and declared  Tres Hermanos  (link way down below) to be the best tacos in New York. As much as I personally don't like the guy (he tries too hard), he was right. They were the best tacos that I have ever had in New York. I had the steak ones and they were so juicy. Eating the tacos was like a race against time, hurrying to eat them before the tortillas broke from all that moist flavor. They even make the tortillas onsite. I was very happy, but when it gets down to it--all they were regular tacos from Milwaukee Avenue. Real good but Chicago just makes it happen for me.


So loving Mexican food as much as I do, I decided to get down with some Enchiladas. Since I can't recreate that Chicago flavor I had to create some Pemmie's (how my husband refers to me) kitchen flavor. I made Swiss Cheese Enchiladas.  I know I'm a hypocrite--there is no Swiss cheese in authentic Mexican food, but please this is coming from a Filipino/German kitchen so authenticity has already been shot.


In case you want to follow,  these are the ingredients:

1 large choppedonion
1 rotisserie chicken
2 minced garlic cloves
2 cans 4.5oz diced green chiles (don't drain, also I used one spicy and one mild because I like my spice!)
1 can 14.5oz petite diced tomatoes undrained
2 cups milk (I used almond milk because I thought it would add to the nuttiness but you can do regular if that's too odd for you)
2 tablespoons of flour
salt
12 corn tortillas
2 cups of shredded swiss cheese


First, you have to really get down and tear the meat off that bird. It is nothing pretty to look at so no pic is included, but just know that I took care of it to the fullest extent. I then cooked the onion until it was almost soft, then I threw the shredded chicken in adding the garlic along with it. Once all of the aromatics have had 5-8 minutes of swimming in each others flavor and have fully seeped into the meat, add the chiles and tomatoes until you come up with all this beautiful yumminess.

I let the chicken mixture simmer for 20 minutes. In the meantime, I throw the milk and flour in small pot and whisk away until it thickens--which always takes forever for me.  It is always suppose to only take 5 minutes but for some reason it is always a 15 minute affair for me. While I wait for this to happen, I make the most out of my time and heat the tortillas on the stove. Don't ever try to throw your tortillas in an oven or a microwave--it is just not right. Stove-top tortillas just get a nice smokiness to them and I like a little char. 

I get the swiss cheese shredded and it is beautiful. As I am shredding, I am tasting too and I am having trouble stopping. It is so nutty and will only taste better melted

To get this melting started, I start preheating the oven to 350 and greased up a 13x9 glass bake pan. If you don't have glass its fine, but try to get one,  it is a great heat conductor for this kind of baking. I take each tortillas and fill them with the chicken mixture and cheese, rolling each one up burritos style (but open ends) placing them right next to one another in the pan. I was only able to throw eight in vertically and have to place two sets of two horizontally.  I then added a little salt to the milk mixture and then covered the top of the tortillas with the milk mixture. I finished by adding the remainder of the cheese (about one cup) over the top. Leaving the dish uncovered I placed the dish in the oven and cooked for 25 minutes. Making sure that it toiled and bubbled. See the video below, I am very serious about my bubbling.

The meal ended up being cheesey cheesey goodness with just the right amount of spice, great texture in the corn tortillas, moist chicken, nutty smoky flavor, and a lot of comfort. Try it you'll see. xoxo happy nibbling!










http://www.yelp.com/biz/tortilleria-mexicana-los-hermanos-brooklyn