This, That, The Other: 3 Recent Eats

1. A Black Seed Bagel

I had few days off work recently, and I spent them trying to do some fun New York-y things. I went to see some art, I had a fun solo lunch at Russ & Daughters, I went to see GONE GIRL at 2.40pm on a Tuesday. And I finally went to eat a bagel at Black Seed. Trekking into the city on a Sunday, and negotiating endless bread lines (yes, they are bread lines) at whichever Hip New Eatery? As people trying to sound like old men from New York say: fuhgeddaboudit. But late morning, mid-week — I had little to lose. The line wasn’t too bad, and I wrangled myself a place to sit by the window. I ordered an everything bagel (they don’t do pumpernickel! Maybe that’s the ***Montreal Bagel*** thing? I’d never eaten a ***Montreal Bagel*** before, so I don’t have anything to compare it to) with their beet cured lox (6.9/10) and some avocado. Of course, it was a little pricey, as was the Stumptown, but I knew that going into this. There’s always that brief moment of disappointment upon receiving a bagel that is smaller than anticipated, but truth is, it’s a size that probably makes more sense than the classic, doughy behemoths New York bagels often are. It’s very SoHo, and a little shame-inducing: “I cost more because I’m smaller and it’s for your own good,” and you’re like, “Yes bagel, you’re right and I’m a glutton for ever having wanted more :-/” Unless you are very hungry. Sometimes I am so hungry and I want every bite of those giant bagels. Anyway, I enjoyed my small and expensive Manhattan bagel, and I ate it sitting perched at the window seats, between two other solo bagel-eaters, looking out at all the people walking by in their dumb, cool clothes.

2. Possibly my final bottle of Grady’s Cold Brew Coffee for the season?

The weather has cooled right down but I can’t seem to say goodbye to cold coffee season. Last year, my pal Zach got me onto Grady’s Cold Brew – literally, without any doubt, the most delicious coffee I have ever tasted. I didn’t know it was possible. Grady’s is impossibly smooth and rich, without even a tinge of acidity. It’s also fairly concentrated; 1 part Grady’s needs like, 2 parts milk, and a bunch of ice. Oh my god. I wait all week to drink this stuff in bed on a Shabbos morning. I buy a big bottle of it (I usually need to make a special trip to a grocery store slightly nicer than the ones in my neighbourhood) and just ride it out. No more than 2 cups in a day, though. I never considered myself caffeine-dependent until I went to the store for my fix, and they were out. I began to panic – my emotional response was like, pretty real and also embarrassing. We made our own cold brew that weekend – it wasn’t bad!

That special milk-hitting-the-coffee moment of ekstasis (ἔκστασις),

3. Roasted Cauliflower with Green Pea Pesto & Mushrooms

I made this recipe up. I actually feel my cooking has improved lately, especially my veggie dishes. I don’t eat much meat, and I get way more excited about which vegetables and fruits are in season. I recently realized that one of the reasons I don’t buy or cook meat often is that it’s just messier. Animal fat is just harder to clean, and I think scrubbing grease of pots, plates, and containers was actually starting to bother me. Anyway, roasted cauliflower is always delicious. I toss it in some grape seed oil, add some salt and pepper, and sometimes a little curry powder or a pinch of cumin seeds, and roast it until it’s nicely browned. Then I sauteed up some green peas (I actually love frozen peas – I use them in anything, and they are a yum high-fiber addition when I don’t have much fresh produce around). I took about half the sauteed peas and blended them with a handful of basil, some fresh garlic, a few pine nuts, olive oil and salt. Green pea pesto! I don’t think I invented this, but it’s new to my repertoire. With the remaining half of the peas, still in the pan, I added sliced mushrooms until they were cooked through. Then I tossed the cauliflower, peas and mushrooms, and pesto, all together. Added a few more pine nuts, and a little lemon zest. Ta-da!

(Aforementioned recipe is on the top right.)

Is It Still Brunch if There’s No One to See It?

When life hands you one defrosted veggie sausage, almost-wilted arugula, half a tub of feta cheese and a tiny bit of early-Sunday motivation, you make a breakfast sandwich.

It’s a rare occasion when I choose not to let someone else prepare this hallowed (scorned?) meal, but I had a bunch of time and a few ideas so I decided to serve myself brunch.

First* I sliced the limp sausage into thin, diagonal pieces. I sauteed them briefly, letting them crisp and brown. Then I placed my sliced ciabatta roll face down on the still-warm skillet to toast a bit, while whisking two eggs with some milk, salt and pepper.  I removed the bread when it was slightly crispy and poured in the eggs. Scrambling eggs is a skill I have yet to fully master. I know it involves low heat and lots of patience; I’ve got one and I’m working on the other.

Sandwich assembly: layer toasty bread with slices of feta, browned v. sausage, arugula and then gently place your softly scrambled eggs on top, with some good salt and hot sauce to finish (I’m partial to Frank’s in situations like these). Carefully photograph from all angles and then stuff into your face.

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I also made coffee in my stupid Ikea french press that works, but barely, because $7.99 buys a big bag of beans and a single cortado is $4+ around these parts.

*actually, for real First I walked to the nearest fancy foodstore to purchase my fancy ciabatta and a pound of good coffee beans. I then walked through Pickle Day, a festival on Orchard Street of all things pickled and pickle-related. Should have incorporated those pickles into my sandwich but life is full of regrets.

It Happened To Me: I Now Eat Every Vegetable

Congratulations! I now, very suddenly, like avocado. I have always loved every vegetable in the whole world, except avocado. I don’t know! The smeared green-turning-to-brown, the mushy cubes making a mess in a salad,  a half-cut avo going brown and crusty in my parents’ fridge, remnants of it dried around some dumb baby’s mouth – I just couldn’t. People would go on and on about what a delight it was – oh, they could just eat with a spoon! Oh, all they need is some salt and pepper! Maybe a lemon squeeze! Lordy. Anyway, I ate it inside some sushi, and then eventually I tried some truly delicious (fresh, cilantro heavy, lime anointed, etc.) guac with chips and salsa, and then I had it on some toast with poached eggs, and now, I have graduated to actually buying my own avocado, and putting it on my toast, or ordering it inside my lox bagel (I don’t like cream cheese.) I used to go to Peacefood and order that Avocado Tempeh Ruben sans avocado. But no more! It feels very sudden, but I suppose it was gradual. I feel truly like a woman in her 30s. Spread the news; Esther Werdiger now loves every vegetable in the world, for real.

The first avocado I ever purchased, with the sole intention of eating it myself, featured here in the breakfast I ate alone this past Sunday.

A Girl And Her Gravlax

My mother makes gravlax once or twice a year, generally for a Jewish holiday. It sits in the fridge for a few days, wrapped up, covered in salt, sugar, and pepper, a powdery mixture that slowly breaks down until it’s in a liquid state. She rinses it off, and uses a Japanese ceramic knife to slice it thinly. She makes caramel-coloured, mustardy dill sauce to go with it. Eating it on some challah, with the sauce, and some greens or beets, is nothing short of amazing, for those with an inclination for sweet, salty, fatty salmon. My mother is a great cook, but I wouldn’t call her a chef. She always fed us well; seasonally, colourfully, healthfully. Meals were balanced and fresh. Repertoires were established so that, if my mother was busy (and she was often busy), really any of us could step in and get dinner, or Shabbos, on the table. I have my own limits, but safe to say that the kids in my family, especially the 4 girls, are great cooks. The similarities in our cooking – veggie-heavy, whole grains, colour – each in our own ways, clearly all come from my mother.

My sister slicing gravlax at home.

Anyway, my sister started calling herself a chef a number of years ago. “You’re not a chef!” I would say, “because you haven’t been to cooking school!” – which made sense to me – you finish culinary school, you’re a chef! – but was probably not a nice thing to say, and I knew she hated hearing it. Anyway, at some point during her years cooking, running a supper club, writing about food, and finally, opening a restaurant, our resistance to the title faded away. When I tell people about my sisters, I say, “one is a physicist, one is a physio, and one is a chef!” and I’m always so proud to say it.

One of the open-faced bagels featuring gravlax at my sister’s restaurant.

At her restaurant, my sister uses our mother’s gravlax recipe. I think my mother originally got the recipe from her friend Barbara, who got it from a friend of hers. I’ve never made it, but I’ve watched it be made, sliced, and I’ve obviously eaten it so many times. I wait for the extra fishy/salty/sweet/chewy bits from the ends, like some kind of grateful dog-person, just happy to be included. I have not yet found a reason to buy my very own entire side of salmon to cure, but maybe one day.

BRUNCH: When It Happens In Your House

Total brunch whore over here.  Cliche, yes yes yes, but there’s something about overpriced egg dishes with sides of pancakes that I will never not appreciate.

I love going out for brunch. When I’m not eating brunch I’m thinking about when I will be eating brunch. When I am eating brunch I’m wondering what else I can order before the meal is over and I must get on with my life.

But today we stayed in.  Because sometimes you have ramps and fiddleheads and eggs and beets and radishes and freshly pickled red cabbage in your fridge and you’d feel a little guilty leaving them behind.

So we went a bit overboard (if that is possible). Sundays are great for gluttony.

• fresh schug – cilantro, jalapeno, garlic, olive oil, lemon juice, salt, cumin THAT IS IT.
• pickled red cabbage – rice vinegar, water, sugar, salt, red cabbage
• beet, apple and radish salad – that, plus some whole grain mustard, apple cider vinegar, olive oil, salt
• fiddlehead ferns with garlic and ramps – basic
• ramp bread – basic, amazing
• scrambled ramp eggs – after years of eating poorly scrambled eggs (and being none the wiser) I am learning how to be gentle with the things. results have been good and are just getting better.
• homemade iced tea – some fancy kusimi blend, with a lemon slice. on ice.
• coffee – some crappy financial district grocery store blend.  not everything can be perfect.

gratuitous shot of ramp bread because this time we used BUTTER and it was even more glorious.