HOW IT HAPPENS

Nothing is more satisfying to me than working on a dish for my Foraging column and then hearing from a reader that my recipe has found a place on his or her personal hit parade. I know it’s cool and chic to brag about being too busy to cook, but I believe in cooking. I believe in the sounds of chopping, the aromas of braising meats, the sight of fresh ingredients piled on kitchen counters and tables.

The recipes in Foraging are, primarily, based on what’s in season. From spring through fall, I spotlight Garden State produce and seafood, stalking the farms and fish markets to see what’s at its fresh best. I bring it all home, mess around in the kitchen and, after much experimentation, come up with the recipe that ends up in Foraging on Wednesdays.

It’s usually not a quick-hit business.

Sometimes, though, I do hit on a great recipe on the first try. Sometimes it takes forever. Sometimes I learn so much from the initial effort, I go into the second attempt much assured. That’s what I think is about to happen with what I started on tonight.

Sweet potatoes are starting to come in and apples, too, are arriving. So I bought a load of each at local farm stands today, then returned home to see what I could conjure. I could, I thought, simply layer slices of sweet potato and apples and bake as a basic gratin. Hmm, a little cream, butter, S&P and, presto, a lovely side dish.

But I decided I wanted a complete casserole, a main dish supper, not a mere accompaniment. I scoured my pantry and found something of companionable interest: black Beluga lentils.

Long cooking story short, I made a stovetop casserole of cubed sweet potatoes and apples, black lentils, coconut milk, sweet curry powder, ginger, garlic and lots and lots of fresh lime juice. I served it over jasmine rice. I really liked the way it tasted.

But, brother, was it ugly. The black lentils gave off a fatigues-green juice that mingled with the coconut milk and turned the whole dish the color of a swamp. I loved the way the sweet potatoes and apples played off the earthy lentils and totally dug the richness the coconut milk brought to the dish. I knew, however, that anyone who made the dish would fine it visually revolting.

So? What’s next for my seasonal experiment? Red lentils, which I expect will bring a sunny hue to the casserole without diminishing the taste. I’ll be working on that and when it’s ready for public consumption, you’ll read about it in Foraging.

That’s how it happens.

Reporting from behind-the-scene in my very own home kitchen, I remain faithfully yours,
Andy
9.30.07
P.S. I know y’all aren’t much into football, but I’m so happy Brett Favre snatched that TD record.

MORE ON THE FLAKY TART

Marie Jackson grew up in Oceanport, went to Red Bank Catholic and, as a teen, would make a post-class beeline to a German bakery in Red Bank for its crumb cake.

The pastry chef, who this summer opened The Flaky Tart in Atlantic Highlands (see story in today’s Food section), remembers that crumb cake as “warm and wonderful” and something she always wanted to emulate. It was, she says today, “this amazing thing.”

Marie’s got her own battery of amazing things at The Flaky Tart, from two-bite cupcakes to many-bite tarts to outrageous cakes in that tres fashionable “baby cake” style to the best crumb cake I’ve ever tasted. She does croissants in the genuine-article French tradition and then spins out sandwiches with them by adding a layer of jamon and a film of Gruyere. She’s starting slow and small but, eventually, she’s going to do breads and more. She’s a smart cookie.

It’s in her blood. “My mother baked bread, my grandfather is a bread baker, too,” Marie says. “My grandfather has ‘Beard on Bread,’ and James Beard’s white bread is the first thing I ever baked.” The oldest of four, with parents who were teachers, she graduated Monmouth U with a degree in accounting, but always kept her baking dreams close to her heart.

Lucky for us. She went to the New York Restaurant School, studied pastry and did wonders for the snack bar at Ship Ahoy Beach Club in Sea Bright, where her husband is the manager. Muffins were her specialty and she’s imported them to Atlantic Highlands.

“Mine are basic muffins,” she says. “I try not to add anything weird, definitely not too much sugar. My philosophy is that I just want things to taste really good.”

I’m trying to think of a muffin that’s better than Marie’s blueberry muffin. I’m going to have to think on this for a few years.

Anyway, I’m a bit afraid that Marie’s going to get inundated by sweet-toothed customers who are as starry-eyed over her pastries as I am. Realize, please, that every wonderful thing you see at The Flaky Tart is so very painstaking hand-made, completely from scratch, and every day the bakery is open, to boot; so be patient and don’t expect a mass-manufactured style and scene. Call ahead, inquire as to the best times and days to come for what you desire, and be very happy we have the talented Marie Jackson in our midst.

The Flaky Tart is at 145 First Ave. in Atlantic Highlands. 732. 291. 2555.

Cheers,
Andy
9.26.07

P.S. THANK YOU to the “Eating” poster who tipped us all to The Flaky Tart several weeks back. You are a most reliable source of delicious information. Take a bow, oh gifted eater!

BREAKING THE CHAINS

I’m doing a little chain research and stopped off tonight at a local chain I have a lot of respect for.

That’d be Surf Taco. I tend to hit Surf Taco/Manasquan ex-post a buying trip to Spirit of ’76, a great wine shop just across the street. In the past, I have had better food at ST/Squan than I have at the other Surf Taco branches. Yes, I realize talking about Surf Burrito variation at Surf Taco branches is what many would describe as ridiculous. Have at it.

But tonight, I popped in at the Surf Taco in Point Beach and scored what I have to say is the best Surf Burrito of my extensive Surf Taco-eating career. The fish was wonderfully fresh and bulged from the soft flour tortilla. The cabbage was crunchy-crisp and the sauce just the right shade of tangy. The black beans were earthy and firm, yet soft – not mushy, not tinny tasting. It was a Surf Burrito as a Surf Burrito ought to be. To my mind, this is one of the primo fast foods on Earth. My heart soars every time I see a bevy of folks in their late teens and early 20s chowing down on Surf Burritos and their ST kin. When I was 23, I was weeknighting on junky salad bars so I could save pennies and hop into the city and pretend to be an adult at Le Veau d’Or. This generation just might know better.

Anyway, I always tell folks to take their kids to Surf Taco because you can get good food, including some good healthy food there. I don’t know if anyone ever listens.

If any of you are listening – or reading, I should say – tune in to the Food section tomorrow (Wednesday, Sept. 26). My cover story is on a woman who is an extremely gifted pastry chef – and she’s opened a sweet little shop in Atlantic Highlands. Read all about The Flaky Tart in the Press and check back to this blog tomorrow, since I’ll be posting some extras from my interview and my tastings.

Cheers,
Andy
9.25.07

A LITTLE MORE

It’s been a bit hectic the past few days, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s simply September, when everything starts up again.

But I wanted to, briefly, re-visit that topic of waiting-for-a-reserved table, which I brought up because 1) it’s one of the most frequent complaints I get and 2) it had happened (again) to me in a rather extreme manner, and I was curious as to how you food-centric souls feel about it. I’ve been gobbling up your thoughts. Thank you!

I have someone else’s two cents to pitch in. My friend Bob, an avid, eager and several-times-a-week restaurant-goer, told me he has a rule of thumb about waiting for a reserved table. “I wait 15, 20 minutes without thinking about it, especially if it’s a busy restaurant,” Bob says. “After about 20 minutes, I feel someone from the restaurant should approach, apologize and ask if I’d like a drink, a beverage of some sort. If it’s more than 30 minutes, I think it’s right for the restaurant to offer me an appetizer – either at the bar or just as I sit down at the table.” This is the right thing to do, he notes, because “I was expecting to be eating already and I’m hungry!” After 45 minutes, if the restaurant hasn’t extended itself in any way, “I leave,” Bob says. “I don’t feel as though I have to honor my reservation after that.”

Now, onto other topics. I’m going to be exploring in future stories a couple of your favorite things to talk about, and I’d love your input.

1) Sushi. During the past five years, the Shore’s joined Sushi Nation. There are certain parts of Monmouth, in particular, that have become nearly saturated with sushi-serving restaurants. I’d like to know A) Your favorite PURIST sushi spot and B) Your favorite MODERN sushi spot – i.e. places with dozens of different wild-and-crazy rolls.

2) Chains. We had a big go-round late last month and early this month about chains. So to follow up on this, I’d like to know A) Is there a chain you think works really well – taking it all beyond formula food (which is why the food-centric chastise chains) and B) If there isn’t a chain you have food-affection for, what is it about your experiences at chains that has turned you off? And please be more specific than don’t-like-formula-food.

THANK YOU!

I’m working this week on a fall-produce farm story. I’ve been a bit itchy this week, because a few of my favorite farms have closed for the season or are in between peak summer and the start of fall. So I’m thinking I’ll distract myself tomorrow while the games are on by doing a big ol’ tagine. I’ve been messing around with farro (see Foraging, this coming Wednesday) and am madly in love with the stuff – it’s Italian, an ancient strain of wheat, it’s super high in protein and totally delicious. Nutty, with a delightfully chewy texture. Who’s cooked with it?

This is all making me really hungry.

Cheers,
Andy
9.22.07

RESTAURANT THOUGHTS

Questions for you: You've reserved a table at a fine-dining restaurant and, as you check in, you're told your table's not quite ready. It's not quite ready 10, 15, 20 minutes later. And then some. At what point are you impatient? Annoyed? Exiting the restaurant in search of another source of nourishment?

Further: Do you feel entitled to some sort of compensation - a beverage? a nibble upon being seated? a please-forgive-us complimentary dessert? - if you feel the wait for a reserved table has been excessive?

I ask because I want to know how folks feel about reservations not being honored in a relatively timely fashion. I want to know how long a wait you feel is understandable and, if you're past the point of understanding, if you feel the restaurant should extend itself in any way to make up for any inconvenience caused. I'd really appreciate hearing your thoughts.

Now, onto other restaurant issues. In last week's Los Angeles Times' Food section (dated Sept. 12), Regina Schrambling tackled the interesting issue of modern-day restaurant criticism - to be precise, restaurant criticism Before Good (BG) and After Google (AG). Regina notes that Google has enabled zillions of Googlers to see the mugs of critics everywhere. Further, virtually anyone can set up review shop with a personal blog or access to a Web site, with many not following the traditional rules of anonymity and/or paying for one's meal when reviewing a restaurant.

The story bears reading by anyone interested in restaurant criticism - www.latimes.com/food - because it examines what's out there for food-centric folks like you to digest. The questions Regina Schrambling poses are excellent and the answers she receives from a range of culinary pros and amateurs fascinating. I'd love to hear your take on it - and also to understand what you seek in restaurant criticism.


cheers,
Andy
9.18.07

CHEFS' STUFF

Doesn't it seem as though all the star chefs have their own line of cookware and gadgets these days? A hop-skip through any kitchen goods catalog tells you of the latest Mario Batali or Rachael Ray pots and knives.

But something under the Rick Bayless brand (Bayless headlines two award-winning Mexican restaurants in Chicago, stars in his own PBS-TV series and, in his spare tim,e writes seriously educational and useful cookbooks on Mexican cuisine) caught my eye in a recent Sur la Table catalog: a stovetop chile roaster. Wow - I'm always looking for a way to roast chilies in the summer months without turning on the oven.

"Toasting chilies brings out a sweeter, earthier flavor,'' claims the blurb describing the chile roaster. "Ideal for using in sauces and salsa or making chile powder. Removable grate for easy cleanup.'' It's $49.95. I'm drawn to it.

Anyway, are you coveting any particular kitchen gadgets these days?

A little gossip: I heard that Bobo's 33 in Atlantic Highlands has segued into a sports bar called Fourth Qaurter - or maybe it's Fourth Down?? Quietly and recently, I'm told. Anybody been? Speaking of eating out, where are y'all dining this weekend?

cheers,
Andy
9.14.07

'R' MONTHS ARE UPON US

I was reminded that we're officially in "R" month season - traditionally, oyster season - when I got the following from Doug Douty, owner of Lusty Lobster in Highlands:

"Come join the fun! Asbury Park's Guinness Oyster Festival returns on Saturday, Oct. 6 from noon to 6 p.m. on Cookman Avenue after a hiatus of four years. This event is packed with beer, oysters, shrimp and clams provided by Lusty Lobster of Highlands, as well as some of the best Irish music on this side of the pond. The Asbury Park Chamber of Commerce proudly hosts this event.''

Lots and lots of Irish music is promised and, since it's First Saturday in Asbury, shops will be open late. Those who would like more info are advised to visit www.asburyparkchamber.com.

cheers,
Andy
9.12.07

TAKING CORN INTO FALL

Last night, I made corn chowder and I felt as though I should serve it for dessert.

I'd bought the corn early in the afternoon at Twin Pond Farm in Freehold Township, and started thinking about what to do with it as I drove home. It's not that gnawing a cob isn't fun; it's just that it's September, and it's time to shimmy into new cooking modes.

So I cooked down some carrots and scallions and some mighty pretty rose-colored fingerling potatoes, all diced. I added some stock and dispatched my pal "Sue" out to the back deck to grated the corn. "Sue" is my sous chef Don Callahan; we call him "Sue" -- short for sous chef. Yup, he's got a great sense of humor, our boy named Sue.

Anyway, Sue grated and grated and grated, then returned to the kitchen with a bowl of corn and corn juice. Nibs of corn speckled his face like freckles. But there was no time for primping: Into the pot went the corn, along with a couple jiggers of half-and-half. A little seasoning (salt, pepper, chives), a dab of butter, and we had a mighty fine chowder on our hands. (If you'd like, puree a bit of it, either in a food processor or with a hand-held blender, to thicken the chowder even more.)
As I tasted the chowder, though, I worried that it actually was too sweet. I mean, no one in the world would think that but me, but I was worrying I should serve it for dessert. As Sue fried up some bacon to top the chopped heirloom tomato salad we'd also made, I whispered to him, "Put a little bacon on the corn chowder." Smoke, I figured, might tame that sweet fire.

But, boy, that chowder sure was tasty.

What are you going to do with the last of the 2007 corn?

cheers,
Andy
9.11.07

WHAT'S SWIMMING BY?

The Jersey Fresh folks issue an every-other-week seafood availability report. Here are the fishes listed as in "very good'' supply with "excellent quality'':

Atlantic croaker, daylights, flounder, ling, lobster, squid, swordfish, tuna and whiting.

In the farm-rised hard clams and oysters category, ditto for supply and quality:

Littlenecks, middlenecks, Cape May salt oysters and Delaware Bay oysters.

A message that matters: I've found my bumper sticker, and it's winging its way to me as I write.

While I was up in Maine last month, I saw a car in the parking lot of the food co-op in Belfast sporting a bumper sticker I had to have: "Who's Your Farmer?'' I couldn't find it in any local shop, so I did the Google thing when I got home. I should've guessed this one - it's a MOFGA product, meaning the Maine Organic Farmers and Gardeners Association, which is religion in Maine. I ordered a gadbillion of them from the MOFGA Web site and plan to spread them around these parts.

So what are you cooking/where are you eating this weekend? Sunday, I'm sure most of you know, is Kick-Off Day. Yeah, I know the Colts played the Saints last night, but there will be hours and hours of NFL grunts and smacks on Sunday, and there's no music I'd rather cook to. It's Kick-Off to Cooking Season for me.

cheers,
Andy
9.7.07

COMINGS, GOINGS

Indigo Moon in Atlantic Highlands has closed. Too bad. I was just there last month and had some lovely food.

Vivas, with chef Wil Vivas, has opened semi-quietly in Belmar Plaza, Belmar. The menu features "Classic Latin Cuisine.''

Everywhere, suddenly: cowboy steak. Are you riding' this one high, or bucking a bronco?

Far too few places: side dishes specifically suited, specifically crafted for the main element on the plate. Can there really be one-size-fits-all sides?

Questions for the informed: Where's Richard from Far East Taste, Eatontown? Is chef Fredric Byarm back at Antoinetta's in Cedar Run? Where are Adam and Janet Scott (of Indigo Moon) now?

cheers,
Andy
9.5.07

THE SECRET OF FEEDING KIDS (and more)

I have stumbled upon the secret of feeding kids and it involves an endless supply of duck confit.

Laugh, go ahead, but the vast majority of kids I know love duck confit. This evening, for a Labor Day patio party at the home of friends in Little Silver, I did two batches of burritos: One sported shredded chicken, made with a bit of lime and a dab of chipotle, layered with avocado and chopped lettuce, while the other featured shredded duck confit spliced with mango chutney and piled with fresh mango and chopped lettuce. I bet on the adults lunging for the duck and the kids picking on the chicken.

Wrong, wrong, wrong. The adults, laying back after an opening-round spread that included various melons wrapped in prosciutto di Parma, Fra’mani salumi, whipped salmon spread, baba ghanouj, hummus, piquillos stuffed with burrata, and various nibbles and bits, let the kids have at the mains first. I ran out of duck confit-mango burritos and had to buzz back to the kitchen to assemble more.

Jake, tasting a mango: “I don’t like mangos.” Jake, tasting a burrito with duck confit and mango: “I like mangos as long as they’re with duck confit.” He’s a single-digit.

Craig: “Where’s my duck confit? Don’t let anyone have my duck confit! Can I come into the kitchen for more duck confit?” He’s also a single-digit. The duck confit was brewing in a pot on the stove top. He is no fool, this kid.

Nick: “I don’t want chicken, I want duck confit.” Yes, yes, single-digit, too.

Sarah: “Pleeeeeeeeeease let me help you make the duck confit burritos. Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease!” She recently turned 10.

This phenomenon isn’t limited to duck confit burritos. My 8-year-old sous chef pal finds duck confit ragout (braised with lots of vegetables in orange juice and chicken stock), served over wide noodles to be her edible bliss. Another 8-year-old I know likes his duck confit tossed in a salad, with tangerine segments and pecans. He eats it before I even have a chance to dress it.

Maybe they just like saying it. Duck cohn-fee. I don’t know. But I do know they like eating it.

Anyway, it’s been a busy, busy weekend. I got pretty choked up yesterday afternoon at a party for a friend’s upcoming 35th birthday. You see, it was for my beloved Liza, who I hired 19 years ago this week to work as our bureau’s assistant when the gang of us were all packed into the old Freehold Bureau on Spring Street. Liza was 15, a few days away from turning 16, and we all fell in love with her instantly. Here we are, 19 years later, and Liza’s a wife and a mom – and doing extremely important work helping to prevent young folks from turning to drugs, alcohol, gangs. I can’t believe she’s on the cusp of 35; but I know the world’s better for her being all grown up and doing the good she’s doing.

Of course there was food – tons of grilled fare and salads, but the best was the rice and beans. Love 'em.

So, no chains for me this weekend. Ooops. Did I hit a nerve?

You all know from my reviews how I cherish those small chef-owned places, restaurants where there’s a person in the kitchen who just has to cook, who gets jazzed about a gorgeous in-season ingredient and lets it fly with minimal razzle and absolutely no gimmickry. A voice from the stove. An original. Chains give us formula, and we’ve plenty of that around. So I’m pained at the thought of another chain, but I honestly and truly think (agreeing with a poster below) that we’ve set the stage here for chains: They would not be coming our way if they weren’t making money at our Shore, and they’re making money 'cause locals are patronizing them.

Sighing,
Andy
9.3.07