December 14, 2017
You don’t need this beautiful glass pot. But don’t you want it? I certainly do. And I can think of at least a dozen friends who would like it as much as I do.
Made of industrial glass and designed by architect Massimo Castagna, the pots are made by hand; only ten are made each day. (Ergo, they aren’t cheap.)
The only place in the States that seems to sell it is the Museum of Modern Art, and at the moment it’s on back order. But if you want it fast, you can order it from Mohd, in Italy, here.
December 14, 2017
A friend who grew up in Chinatown told me he’d had the best Chinese food he could remember at the new Hwa Yuan Szechuan. “Their moo shoo pork was so deliciously delicate,” he said, “and I HATE moo shoo pork.”
How could I not go?
Let’s cut to the chase: the place is enormous, spread across three floors, expensively (and oddly) decorated with a menu that, at first glance, seems remarkably silly. When was the last time you felt like ordering Caesar Salad in a Chinese restaurant? What on earth are they doing with a raw bar? Cheesecake: really?
Which is to say, I took one look at the menu and thought my friend might have lost it.
Hwa Yuan was, apparently, very famous in the seventies and eighties; the restaurant, owned by Shorty Tang, was one of the earliest purveyors of Sichuan food and pretty much made a market in cold sesame noodles. (I was in California in those years, so I missed Mr. Tang’s moment of fame.)
Now Shorty’s son, Chen Lien Tang, has decided to reopen the restaurant right next door to where the original once stood. And he has grand ambitions.
Skipping past the salad, the sole carpaccio, the shrimp cocktail and raw uni, we began by ordering steamed short ribs in sticky rice. They were superb! Hiding beneath the beautifully spiced meat is an entire layer of squash. We began to think my friend might not be crazy.
Then the chef sent out these little spicy Sichuan dumplings, and they were great too, the noodles thin, the sauce with a gentle but insistent kick.
Whole fish with hot bean sauce was carefully cooked, the fish snatched from the steamer at the exact right moment, rendering the flesh smooth, silky, seductive. Delicious as the fish was, I’d order it just for the pleasure of that sauce…
But the most impressive dishes might have been the most subtle, like this baby bok choy cooked in “superior broth.” It was, indeed, superior.
And this dish, called “Tang’s Amazing Tofu with Meat” doesn’t look like much, but it offered a small surprise with each bite. You biet into a floating pillow of velvety tofu, and then, suddenly, a flash of black bean, and a hint of chili go zipping through the blandness. The squeak of scallion and tiny batons of pork are threaded through the dish, contrast to all that softness. I literally couldn’t stop eating.
Of course we had to order a dish of the hated moo shoo. And just as promised – it was a delight.
I want to go back to try the Peking Duck (it has its own dedicated oven), the orange beef, the kung pao chicken which Mr. Tang promises is done simply, with just chiles and garlic.
December 13, 2017
I will never forget my first taste of grouse. It was in London, and the bird had been hung for a long time (in Merry Olde Englande they believed in hanging birds until they literally fell from their necks), and then roasted in a wood oven. The flavor was unlike any bird I’d ever eaten: funky and filled with flavor, it was the blue cheese of birds. I tore it apart with my fingers – and the scent lingered for hours.
Red Grouse, which make the best eating, live only in Scotland and don’t thrive in captivity. I’ve never seen grouse served in an American restaurant, but if you have someone on your list with a taste for game, you can order a few wild grouse from D’Artagnan. (If you’re so inclined, you can also order a suckling pig from the estimable purveyor of exotic meat.) Hunting season ended a few days ago, so right now the birds arrive frozen. And you have to be careful of shot: these birds are wild, not farmed, so it’s best to beware.
Want to know a bit more? This article is well worth reading.
December 12, 2017
Almost everyone who comes into my kitchen remarks on my knife block: it’s so superior to those ones with slots that won’t accommodate your favorite knives (and carving forks). Instead of slots, this one has plastic rods, so everything fits.
Why everyone doesn’t own one is beyond me, so this year, the universal knife block is my universal gift.
Should you care to give a slightly cooler version, there’s this sexy slim black knife block.
December 11, 2017
You obsess about salt. You have, in fact, an entire wardrobe of salts, from flaky to coarse to pink, black and smoked. Admit it. You’ve even got salt in a a variety of colors.
But what about pepper? It’s the most-used spice in the world – and few people give it the respect it deserves.
Time for a change.
I love this pepper:
which is sourced from small farmers in India. Larger than the peppercorns you’re accustomed to, these Tellicherry peppercorns have a fine, rich, robust fragrance. Any cook would be grateful.
And while you’re gifting pepper, why not a mill as well? My favorite peppermill – the giant (7 1/2 inches tall) Perfex which I use every day – is inexplicably hard to find.
After much Googling around I found it here:
But that’s a kitchen mill. For the table, I’m very fond of this Magnus Mill, sold by the Reluctant Kitchen Trader who also sell the peppercorns:
but – in the interest of fairness I have to admit that next time I buy one, I’m investing in the wooden version. Some clumsy person (me), dropped mine, shattering the porcelain.