Miss Manners?
I know I do.
I know I do.
Cassoulet.
Now tell me--who thinks up these challenges?
I haven't written about Ep 6 of The Next Food Network Star. But they aren't re-running it until Thursday. THURSDAY! I do actually need to see it before I write about it.
OMG--SHANE was eliminated?????
But Adam "No cooking skills" and Aaron "No performance skills" still walk the set as free men?
This we got to see. Oh, Adam, where's that video?
...In our blogging of The Next Food Network Star.
The fact is we couldn't stay up o watch ep. 6 last night, and so we're going to have to catch a re-run before we blog again.
Sorry, folks--we''ll b back with the program ASAP.
Zach Brooks, the imresario of Midtown Lunch, is one of my favorite people who I don't really know. I feel as if I know him, sure, but the fact is I really couldn't pick him out of a police line-up if I had to.
Since we haven't met, I guess I shouldn't be insulted that he did not come to me personally with a request for dining tips in the Hudson Valley. He's staying right here in Kingston yet, and he never even thought of asking. What am I, chopped liver?
Anyway, in answer to Zach and almost anyone else who finds himself in the Hudson Valley any time this summer, here's a quick rundown of what's available.
(It goes unsaid that the best place in Kingston is my kitchen, but you have to email first.)
First of all, Fleischer's Meat Market has wonderful cuts of beef, pork, chicken and sometimes duck or goat; that's if you're going to have a kitchen or grill in which to play around. If you don't have that, get some prepared foods--I tried a pastrami just last week which brought me right back to my Long Island girlhood and the days when a cold slice of brisket could be redolent with spices even before you slapped it on a piece of rye bred and slathered on the mustard. Fleischer's has wonderful sausages, and there are subtle ground meat mixtures like "Bork" and lean beef with bacon ground right in which could bring the Buddha back to omnivorism--not to be offensive. You can find such staunch HV brands as Ronnybrook milk and dairy and Sprout Farm cheeses at Fleischer's as well.
Around the corner from Fleischer's you'll find the Saturday Farmer's Market (a nice way to pass the time while you're in town, but most of the vendors appear the following day at the Rhinebeck market, which is bigger and somehow merrier--in my opinion, anyway) and Lucy's Tacos. Lucy's are a local mini-chain, with another branch in Red Hook; fine, well-cooked meats and vegetables in these tacos, and colorful cowboy-kitsch decorations if you want to set a spell while chowing down.
(We don't actually talk like that in Kingston.)
There is also Eng's restaurant on Broadway in Kingston ,where aficionados of American-Cantonese fare routinely fall in love; it's the kind of place where folks heading to Florida for the winter stop and get a few gallons of chow mein to freeze and eat when the fruits of paradise pall.
And there are Stewart's convenience shoppes all over the place on both sides of the Hudson; they have the best ice cream in the immediate vicinity, plus a sort of peaceful atmosphere and zillions (literally zillions) of ice-cold drinks at very low prices.
Again, if you are staying someplace with a real kitchen, stop over at Adams' Fairacre Farms to assemble the nicest produce, fish, odd bits of offal (I've bought sweetbreads, oxtail and lamb shanks here, and many times thought about buying a whole, sculptural, frozen head of pig; it reminds one uncomfortably of the novel 1984 and also of the possibilities of head cheese). The breads and baked goods are fine here as well, but try to stay away from the canned goods and sodas; they are fearfully overpriced, and the local Hannaford's will do you much better on those.
That's it for Kingston. Woodstock, a somewhat famous Ulster County town from another era, is only a few miles away, but I wouldn't suggest you go there on a holiday weekend unless you want to write a very bitter essay about what the burnt-out end of the Summer of Love can come too. It all amounts to hippies and goats, and I don't know if you'd enjoy that.
So this would be the time to take yourself across the river. People say "across the river" around here like you'd have to cross in pontoons. Actually it's a very short bridge across the Hudson and it costs only $1 in toll, which you pay when you're headed East.
In Red Hook you will find a fine little coffee shop called Taste Bud's, which we love for its chocolates, frozen treats, fancy pastries and "Tripple Chippers" which are enormous bar-shaped chocolate chip cookies. (Bud makes a vegan version of these, which always seem to be the first to sell out). Cold desserts and drinks, too. Bud generally has a booth at the Duchess County Fairgrounds, where you'll find a music-and-carnival setup called "The Great American Picnic" this weekend.
The Fairgrounds are between Red Hook and Rhinebeck. (If you find yourself singing "From Red Hook to Rhinebeck, from Memphis to St. Joe, wherever the four winds blow" you will only be doing what I do all the time).
About half a mile down Route 9 from the Fairgrounds you will find yourself surrounded by quaint shops, women in designer sports outfits, and men wearing baggy khaki cargo shorts like it's some kind of law. Yes, you're in Rhinebeck, and the only thing to do about it is to park your car until that feeling passes.
Or better still, get out of the car and walk a little. There are plenty of good things here, foodwise and otherwise.
Just to get you in the right geographical state of mind, you are now about ten miles north of The Cullinary, which some people call The Culinary Institute of America. I'm not sure if or when it will be open, but, when it is open, you can go and look at the incredibly lovely grounds, buy beautiful soups, sandwiches, and pastries from the Apple Pie Cafe, and catch up on your foodie reading at the Craig Claiborne bookstore. It's a fun half-a-day, especially if you want to see the balcony from which The Chairman welcomed the contestants in the first episode of The Next Iron Chef.
Oh, Okay. Well, I liked it, anyway.
Between Rhinebeck and the CIA are Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelts' homes, Springdale and Val-Kill. Unless you absolutely hate history, do stop by. These landmarks are pretty much the model of their kind, and you don't have to be a Democrat (or even American) to be moved by what you'll see here.
Okay, back to food. In Rhinebeck there are several small and medium-sized restaurants where, if you can get a reservation, you are going to want to eat. There's The Calico, best for sandwiches and pastries; Le Petit Bistro for old-school French. The Beekman Inn's resto is nowhere near as good as it was when Larry Forgione used to wear the toque, so you might want to just take a look and keep walking.
There's Samuel's, for candy and, in season, hot chocolate; Pete's Diner, inexpensive and filling. And there is Rhinebeck Village Pizza, as excellent a pizza as you will find anywhere outside of Connecticut and maybe Arizona.
Then there are Gigi Trattoria and, across the street, Terrapin. My favorite between the two is Gigi, because the service is nicer and because Mario Batali once prepared beef cheeks for me and my daughter there, but the food at Terrapin is so good that even staff who have been fired feel they have to go back to eat there.
The place for sushi is Osaka, a lovable neighborhood joint on Garden Street. When there, order an Annie roll. It is an enormous hand roll filled with cucumber under spicy tuna with tempura crunchies. It's named after me. And if you order it, the beautiful Jessica, finest hostess in the Hudson Valley, will giggle and ask you if you know me.
I think that's about it. Zach and any other visitors, I hope you enjoy yourself at Kingston. But don't bother stopping by my house (it's on Andrew St., just behind the High School. The fact is, I'll actually be staying in Manhattan this weekend. And if the Union Square Greenmarket is closed on the 4th, won't I feel like a fool?
My coverage of this episode was held up by precisely one-half hour, as I was fascinated by a new ep of Ace of Cakes.
Do I love this wacky little show about a bunch of seriously stoned twenty-somethings making beautiful cakes in Baltimore?'Deed I do.
Every time one of the boys or girls turns to the camera with that "Dude. I thought this was study hall, dude!" expression on his or her face, I go right back to the '70's in my mind, and this, surprisingly, is actually kind of pleasant.
This particular episode involved Duff Goldman, the insanely good-humored master baker, entertaining Guy Fieri at Charm City Cakes (you wouldn't think these two guys could both fit in one tv shot, would you?) and being entertained, as only she can, by Miz Paula Deene (the shot actually had to stretch to fit both of them).
This was fun to watch, but, if FN means to take Duff out of the bakery and thrust him into the unholy FN Family Alliance, where he can concoct plum puddings for the Christmas Feast, grill semolina cakes with Bobby Flay, and ride shotgun with the Neelys on that debatable new show of theirs, we wonder if this has some meaning for the contestants in The Next Food Network Star.
Such as, "If we can do without Emeril and Mario, we can do without you."
Well, the Six Remainders (Lisa, Kelsey, Jen, Aaron, Adam and Shayne) were not at their best tonight. Guest Interlocutor was Cat Cora, a woman of steely wrists and not much huggability; personally, if I found myself in circumstances where she had to judge me in anything, I would take the precaution of sending a couple of quarts of Ouzo backstage and hoping for the best.
Here she was judging a fairly routine "surprise box" challenge, where each contestant had to make a dish out of the five or six ingredients in the closed box before them.
I found it interesting that this kind of challenge is as old as restaurant cooking itself, as a new chef in any kitchen is routinely challenged to create something palateable out of a limited number of ingredients. Apparently the contestants were used to this as well; the ingredients in each box were sensible, though not un-sophisticated, and each of the six came out with a classic and apparently tasty dish.
The challenge continued: the contestants had to show off their presentation skills by introducing each other's dishes. No one was great at this; Shayne was the only one who got beyond "mm, mm, this is delicious". Aaron just chewed for 60 of the 90 seconds. Jennifer once again looked like a deer in the headlights.
I was eating some rather eccentric whitefish salad at that moment; I had thought it contained scallions, but these turned out to be chunks of green apple, and the combination was really good. I tried to describe it out loud but when I found myself saying it was like "someone dragged the whitefish into an apple orchard" I decided to shut up and not be interactive. Not that my cat isn't still laughing hysterically about this.
Next challenge: form into teams (oh god no no no no I hate this I hate this No, wait, I'm in the audience; no one's asking me to do this...phew!):
-- Aaron and Adam (both looking thrilled to pieces, I mean not);
-- Lisa and Jen (much eye-rolling from the Beautifully Basic Diva, and I think I saw Jen go down on her knees in thankful prayer) and
-- Shayne and Kelsey (we're young! we're cute! Yaaaaay! Oh, shut up!)
Each team was to create a 45-minute version of a classic, long-cooked dish; the main course to be worked together, and each contestant to prepare a side dish.
Aaron and Adam had a dreadful time with their Coq au Vin. I would have as well, because I always thought the dish had chocolate in it. Aaron has the cooking smarts and Adam has the personality; together they could have managed something a little better than the incomplete and apparently undercooked plate which was served to the judges, plus Cat, plus Barbara Fairchild and the entire editorial staff of Bon Apetit magazine, featuring Severus Snape, I mean Andrew Knowlton.
I always make comments about Knowlton's greasy hair, so this time I'll change it up a little and mention his snivelling voice and strange, toothy smile.
Lisa and Jen were given the task of turning Turducken into a 45-minute romp through weeknight dinner, and had as little luck with this is you could have expected; Jen broke a bottle all over the flattop, ruining another three ingredients, and the sauce never did get on the plates. The judges belched and wondered politely if they could still order from Domino's.
It would be great to tell you that Shayne and Kelsey's Beef Wellington was an unalloyed winner, but, after all that, the best they could come up with was a comparative win: their dish was much better than those of the other contestants, but kind of middling on its own.
I mean, re-thinking a Beef Wellington, if you've got a supply of good beef, pre-made pastry shells, and decent mushrooms, is just not difficult.
Compared to the other offerings it must have seemed like manna from heaven, and so everyone dragged their butts into the Star Chamber and settled in for a nice, cozy Night of the Long Knives.
For myself, I was in some suspense about how they could send at least two people home on one night, which they really needed to do. Do I need to spell this out?...Okay, then: Jen, because enough was enough. And Adam, because, in the course of eight or so challenges, this poor fool has only produced one edible dish. And Aaron too, because he needs to look for his kid.
Unless Shane and Kelsey are his long-lost twin kids, and Lisa is the Greek Goddess of Family Reunion, and then the whole thing could get quite early-Shakespearean and Bob could take the part of "Chorus" and end the play with one of those couplet-thingies without which the first-nighters at the Globe Theater never felt they had really gotten their money's worth..."Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Knowlton shall restore amends...)
(Ed. note: It was very hot in Annie's house as she was writing this, and apparently she flipped back to her days as a Frosh BFA candidate at Ithaca College, and that early "Shakespeare for Thespians" course. Excuse it please.)
Where was I? Oh yes. Well, they only sent Jen home, darn the luck. Then everyone sat around the carriage house looking very, very burnt out.
As was I. As was the Terducken. How long, oh Lord, how long?
Ms. Michelle Kadison
Editor, Chefs Without Borders
http://www.chefswithoutborders.com
Dear Michelle:
Thank you very much for asking me to contribute to Chef Without Borders. It seems like a wonderful site and a really new idea among foodie resources--a site about travel, both physical and mental, and how food brings us home and takes us far away. I wish you all the luck in the world with it.
As to my writing for CWB: again, I'm flattered that you asked, but I don't know if my tone is appropriate to your site. I am chiefly a humorist, not a deep thinker.
As for adventuring away from home, I'm going to take my first venture outside of the New York metro area this August when I fly out to California to eat at the French Laundry with my lifelong best friend for my 50th birthday.
I never go anywhere--I am more of a homebody than Garrison Keillor.
I travelled to Europe as a youngster and decided that, on the whole, I would rather stay home.
Since then I have only travelled under extreme duress, I mean with my former husband, who was never happier than when carting three days of dirty laundry in a backpack over two or three of the Rocky Mountains. On skiis. Like the Von Trapp family fleeing Austria. So completely not my scene.
Then I divorced him and did not have to worry about his underwear.
Not that I have a phobia about travel. Many people travel. I just like being comfortable and, to me, travel is by definition a state of discomfort.
Others will say, "Get a load of those Andes! Where's my camera!" And I will be wondering why, in a big places like Central America, apparently there is no equivalent of Pepto-Bismol. How can that be possible?
I am assuming the Andes are in Central America. They could be on Rodeo Drive for all I know. That's how ignorant I am.
I am not the Hemingway sort. If a dark, handsome stranger came up to me at the charming bodega in la plaza of the exotic marqueta, I would drag out my English-to-Spanish phrase book (Social Services Edition) and possibly be able to ask him where the Ladies' Room was, after about five minutes.
I have no gift for languages. Some say I know way too much English, so I used up those parts of my brain which could have handled Spanish, French, and Latvian. I do know Restaurant Languages, but when Japanese people ask me for directions in NYC, it never helps that I can say "Convey my thanks to the sushi chef. His touch on the fish knife is as gentle as the crane at sunset, yet as forceful as the bite of the pubic louse."
Are you interested in my (interior) travels back to childhood meals, or a few dispatches from San Francisco this summer? (I'll be there for two weeks, basically because it will take me that long, after getting off the plane, to work up my nerve to the point of getting back on.)
If so, I'm your girl.
And in any case, thank you for listening and I am really honored that you asked me.
Sincerely,
Annie Newman
Annie's New York Eats
The thing is: I wanted to dine at The French Laundry in Yountville, CA for my 50th birthday this August. So I hung around online and kept calling and finally, finally, I got that table for four at 5:30 PM on Monday, August 18.
Problem? Table for four. There are only two diners, me and La Skolnique. And I have to pay $100 per head for the diners who do not show up.
See, California takes place on the west side of the continent, where my usual chums, Brother Phil, JC, Crazy Janey, the Beautiful Daughter and even my cat, do not live. And none of them are hauling ass to the coast. Especially not the cat.
So would you like to join us?
Your qualifications are only:
1) Get yourself there,
2) Pay for your dinner (Could be as much as $300 without wines)
3) Make yourself a pleasant and comfortable dinner companion. (It is, after all, my half-century birthday celebration.)
La Skolnique to the right, me to the left. Seriously, we have excellent table manners and clean up nicely.
If you are interested, please send me an email and tell me as much as you can about yourself. Suave, charming middle-aged men will of course be considered first, but La Skol and I will pretty much hang with anyone. Also, we are excellent judges of inner suavity.