here is a little bit about the area......big melting pot from early 20th century.....irish, italian, jewish, hispanic......plus harlem has come back to life with all kinds of rockin' southern cuisine.....the food had got to be unbelievable!!!!! New York City The Five Boroughs Contrary to popular belief, NYC is comprised of five boroughs: the Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, and Staten Island. Pervading Manhattan-centrism has deep historical roots. The island's original inhabitants, the Algonquin, called it Manahatta or Heavenly Land. The British were the first to call the island "New York," after James, Duke of York, the brother of Charles II. Only in 1898 did the other four boroughs join the city. Flanked on the east by the "East River" (actually a strait) and on the west by the Hudson River, Manhattan is a sliver of an island, measuring only 13 mi. long and 2½ mi. wide. Sizeable Queens and Brooklyn are on the other side of the East River, and Staten Island is to the south. North of Manhattan sits the Bronx, the only borough connected by land to the rest of the US ok....enough geography......on to the food......first recipe.... Penne alla Vodka Serves 4 This is not a traditional Italian recipe. I know because I was there -- more or less -- at its invention. It was the early 1970s and vodka was a relatively new spirit to Italians. To promote the consumption of vodka in Italy, vodka distillers provided restaurants with gizmos that kept both the vodka and vodka glasses chilled and they held recipe contests among Italian chefs. This dish was the rage in fashion-conscious Italian circles in the mid '70s. I never see it anymore in Italy. But Americans are entranced by the idea, even though it is nothing more than a tomato cream sauce with hot pepper and a good dose of vodka, which, to be frank, is hardly detectable in the finished dish. To be totally historically correct, I should add that the hot pepper is a late addition. The original recipe was made with pepper-flavored vodka. 1 pound penne 2 large cloves garlic 2 tablespoons olive oil or butter 2 cups tomato puree or canned crushed tomatoes 1/4 cup vodka Salt to taste Hot red pepper flakes to taste 1/2 cup heavy cream For the penne, bring at least 4 quarts of water to a boil with at least 1 heaping tablespoon of salt. Meanwhile, over medium-low heat, cook the garlic in the olive oil for about 2 minutes, until soft but not browned. Add the tomato puree and the vodka. Bring to a simmer and let simmer briskly for 3 minutes. (this cooks off the alcohol.) Season to taste with salt and hot pepper flakes, overseasoning slightly to account for the cream that will be added. Put the penne to cook and while it is boiling, add the cream to the tomato sauce and simmer 2 or 3 minutes. Drain the pasta well, toss with the sauce and serve immediately.
uh oh....it's feel good food in new york city..... Horn & Hardart's Macaroni and Cheese Serves 2 or 3 Horn & Hardart was a Philadephia and New York restaurant chain that also had stores specializing in take-out. With the TV and radio advertising motto "Less work for mother," they actually pioneered the concept of prepared foods to eat at home. The restaurants were called Automats because, besides a cafeteria line, they featured food behind tiny glass windows that was accessed by putting a few nickels in the slots. The last Automat -- on Third Ave. and 42nd St. -- closed only about 10 years ago. It's now a GAP. But New Yorkers and Philadephians old enough to have experienced Horn & Hardart have deep nostalgia for many of its specialties. The mac and cheese is probably prime among them. 1 1/2 tablespoons butter 2 tablespoons flour 1 1/2 cups milk 2 tablespoons light cream 1 packed cup shredded cheddar cheese 1/4 cup crushed tomatoes (I used Pomi, you can use any canned product) 1/2 teaspoon sugar Dash cayenne pepper (I used several dashes) Dash white pepper 1/2 pound small elbow macaroni, cooked until barely done 1. In a small saucepan, melt the butter over low heat, blend in flour and cook about 2 minutes. 2. Beat in the milk, then the cream and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture comes to the boil and thickens. Remove from heat. 3. Stir in the cheese until melted, then the crushed tomatoes, sugar and two peppers. 4. Stir in the macaroni. 5. Pour into a shallow, buttered baking dish and bake in a preheated 400-degree oven until the surface browns, 25 to 30 minutes.
rum and cream....i love new york city.... Nesselrode Pie It's extinct now -- no restaurant serves it, no bakery makes it -- but this old New York dessert still lives vividly in the taste memories of many. Nesselrode is named after one Count Nesselrode, as are a number of dishes that are made with chestnuts or chestnut puree. This is according to Larousse Gastronomique, the French food encyclopedia. Larousse doesn't say why chestnuts are associated with the Count, a 19th century Russian diplomat who negotiated the Treaty of Paris after the Crimean War, but it does note that nesselrode pudding was created for the count by his chef Monsieur Mouy. The pie, as we know it in New York, however, was popularized by Hortense Spier, who started her business not as a pie bakery but as a brownstone restaurant on 94th St. between Columbus Ave. and Central Park West. The restaurant closed before World War II and Mrs. Spier baked her specialty pies for other restaurants after that. Besides the nesselrode, there was a lemon meringue, a banana cream, and a coconut custard. By the mid 1950s, these were, indeed, the standard pies served in New York's seafood restaurants and steakhouses. When Mrs. Spierr died, her daughter, Ruth, and daughter-in-law, Mildred, continued the business. Nesselrode pie is really a classic Bavarian cream -- in a pie shell, of course -- which is to say a custard base into which gelatin is blended for stability and egg whites are folded for added volume and lightness. The flavoring ought to be candied chestnuts and rum, but chestnuts haven't been a major part of the pie for a long time. The following recipe uses a product called Raffetto's "Nesselro" fruits, which does indeed contain a trace of chestnut, though the first ingredient listed is, of all things, cauliflower, which apparently has a similar texture to chestnuts when candied. The remaining ingredients are candied fruits. You can use a mix of candied fruit -- tutti fruiti -- if you cannot find the Raffetto product. In case you'd like your grocer to order some, Raffetto's "Nesselro" is manufactured and marketed by Romanoff International, Inc., the same people who market the caviar you can buy in the supermarket. It is distributed through Haddon House. 1 envelope unflavored gelatin 3 tablespoons dark rum 1 tablespoon water 1 1/2 cups heavy cream 1/2 cup milk Pinch of salt 2 tablespoons sugar 2 eggs, separated 1/4 cup sugar 1 10-ounce jar Raffetto's "Nesselro" fruits, well-drained (see note) 1 baked deep 9" pie shell 1 ounce semi-sweet chocolate, optional for decorating 1. Sprinkle gelatin on rum and water and let stand until softened. 2. Scald cream and milk together. 3. In a medium bowl, with a wooden spoon, mix salt and 2 tablespoons sugar into yolks. Add scalded cream slowly to yolks, stirring constantly. Pour into the top of a double boiler, over simmering water, and cook until thickened, stirring frequently. Do not boil. 4. Stir in gelatin and chill until almost set. 5. Beat egg whites until they hold peaks, then add 1/4 cup sugar, while continuing to beat until stiff. 6. Fold beaten whites into cream mixture along with nesselrode fruits. Chill 5 minutes. Stir and turn into pie shell. Decorate with shaved chocolate, if desired. Note: Place nesselrode fruits in a strainer over a bowl to drain thoroughly. Syrup may be saved for another use -- for instance, to sweeten a rice pudding, to blend with rum and soda for a tall drink.
Chicken Francese Serves 4 This is a delicious and easy recipe that's very hard to find because people look in Italian cookbooks for it. It isn't entirely Italian, so they search in vain. Indeed, it is hardly even known outside the New York metro area, which leads me to believe that it is a strictly local dish. In fact, the only English language cookbook in which I have EVER seen the recipe is in one of my own, Cooking In A Small Kitchen, published by Little Brown in 1978 and now out of print, and The Brooklyn Cookbook by Lyn Stallworth and Rod Kennedy, Jr., published by Knopf in 1991 and still widely available. The recipe does, however, have antecedents in recipes that I have found in Italian language Neapolitan cookbooks, but its final refinement must have been in New York. When I was growing up in Brooklyn in the 1950s, it was just beginning to gain in popularity over veal and chicken parmigiana. You can also have veal francese, shrimp francese, and fish (usually sole or flounder fillets) francese. Francese of course means "in the French manner," but it refers to a food that is dipped in flour and egg, then fried, then dressed with lemon juice or lemon sauce. In Neapolitan cookbooks, there's mozzarella or provola (aged mozzarella) treated this way, and chicken thighs on the bone treated this way. But a thin slice of veal or chicken? No. And these days, such a dish would not be called francese in Naples anyway. It would most likely be called indorati e fritti -- gilded and fried. Entirely an Italian dish. Because this is a restaurant dish and usually made in single portions, the following recipe is a slight compromise -- in order to prepare enough for four, you have to keep half the recipe warm while cooking the rest. It can be done without drying out the chicken, but make sure to ever-so-slightly undercook the first batch, as it will stand in a warming oven for a few minutes. Use the same ingredients and method for preparing veal or shrimp or a fish fillet, keeping in mind that the cooking times will vary slightly. 4 skinless, boneless chicken breasts (about 1 1/3 pounds) Salt and freshly ground pepper Flour 2 eggs 4 tablespoons vegetable oil 4 tablespoons butter 4 tablespoons dry white vermouth 6 tablespoons chicken broth (canned is fine) 4 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice Lemon wedges Note well: Make sure to have all ingredients measured and lined up before starting to cook. You will have to make the chicken in 2 batches of 2 cutlets each, so the frying fats and the sauce ingredients will be used half at a time. Before beginning, put the oven on 200 degrees so you will have a warm oven to keep the first batch of two cutlets warm while cooking the second two. Between 2 sheets of waxed paper, using the side of a can, a heavy jar, or a meat pounder, pound the breasts until about 1/3 of an inch thick (or have the butcher do this for you). Season well with salt and pepper. Place some flour on a dinner plate or a piece of waxed paper. Beat the eggs with a fork in a wide, shallow bowl or a deep plate with a rim. Dredge 2 chicken breasts on both sides in the flour, coating heavily by pressing it on. Then pass the breasts through the egg, making sure they are thoroughly coated. Just before placing the breasts in the hot oil, dredge them in the flour again, again coating heavily. In a 10-inch skillet, over medium-high to high heat, heat the oil and butter together until sizzling. Place the coated breasts in the pan and fry for about 2 minutes or slightly longer per side, until the batter is browned and the cutlets are just done through. If the fat in the pan starts smoking before the cutlets are done, turn down the heat slightly or add just a touch (a teaspoon or so) more oil. Do not let the fat burn or, for that matter, the flour that has migrated into it. As the cutlets are done (2 fit easily in a 10-inch skillet), remove to a serving platter and keep warm while making the sauce. Immediately add the vermouth, chicken broth and lemon juice to the pan. Let boil over high heat for about a minute, until reduced by about half and slightly thickened. It will be brown. Pour the sauce into a cup and set aside while repeating the whole procedure with the remaining cutlets and ingredients. When you have made the second sauce, add the first to it, in the skillet, to reheat it. Pour the sauce over the cutlets, garnish with lemon wedges and serve immediately.
Chicken Scarpariello Serves 3 The origins of this dish are uncertain, but it is most likely Italian-American, not Italian, and was invented by a Southern Italian chef in New York, where it is standard fare in every neighborhood. As far as I can tell, the dish is unknown in Italy, although dishes called "scarpariello," which means shoemaker style, are made in Southern Italy. The "iello" ending is definitely a Southern language ending. Saying shoemaker-style in Naples or Bari either means that the dish is so meager it could even be made by the family of a poor shoemaker, or it contains such prosaic ingredients that it can easily be cobbled together. In its most Italian version, such as the following, it is no more than fried chicken chunks on the bone, lightly glazed with a lemon-wine sauce. Often, chunks of pork sausage, sweet pepper strips, even mushrooms are added to the dish, which makes it anything but humble. Sometimes the dish is saucy, which makes it more American than Italian. Without question, chicken cooked on the bone this way is significantly more succulent than chicken cooked off the bone. Some restaurants serve it boneless and dry anyway. I'd say this is not a dish for you if you don't like to pick at chicken on the bone. 4 tablespoons lemon juice 4 tablespoons dry white wine or vermouth 4 tablespoons chicken broth Vegetable oil for frying, about 3/4 cup (I use canola, but any generic vegetable oil will do, or corn oil, or safflower oil) 1 2 1/2- to 3-pound chicken, hacked into 18-22 pieces Salt and pepper to taste Flour 8 large cloves garlic, lightly smashed but left whole 1 5-inch sprig fresh rosemary Chopped parsley for garnish, if desired 1. Before starting to cook the chicken, in a small bowl or cup, mix together the lemon juice, white wine, and chicken broth. Set aside. It is the liquid for a pan sauce. 2. Pour enough oil into a heavy, 10 to 12-inch skillet to cover the bottom by about 1/8-inch. Place pan over medium heat. 3. While oil is heating to the point where the chicken sizzles briskly the second it hits the oil, season the chicken with salt and pepper. Then flour half the pieces by sprinkling both sides with flour or shaking them in a bag with flour. The chicken should be lightly coated. Shake off excess flour if necessary. 4. Add chicken pieces to hot oil and keep turning the pieces until they are almost cooked through, about 8 to 10 minutes. Start removing the breast pieces first, then the thighs and drumstick pieces, then finally the wing joints. They generally get done in that order. Set aside on a platter. 5. As you remove pieces, dust remaining chicken with flour and add to the pan. 6. Now add the smashed garlic and the sprig of rosemary. Turn the heat to high, add the reserved cooked chicken, and continue to fry. turning the pieces regularly, until the outside of the chicken is well-browned and crisp, about another 2 minutes. Be careful not to burn the garlic. Remove it as it gets golden. 7. When the chicken is crisp outside, carefully drain off all the oil from the pan. Add the reserved juice-wine-broth mixture and continue cooking a few minutes, tossing the chicken in it, until the liquid has reduced to a glaze on the chicken. 8. Serve immediately, sprinkled with chopped parsley if desired, and with lemon wedges for those who want extra tang.
Jewish-Style Pot-Roasted Brisket I decided to test my brisket theory one more time. The theory is that a whole brisket, preferably with some, if not a lot, of its fat still intact is vastly superior to a piece of so-called "first cut" brisket that is, as most butchers sell it today, very well trimmed; I think over-trimmed. The meat comes out significantly more succulent if it cooks with its fat than if it cooks lean. The fat can always be skimmed and trimmed afterward. A whole brisket consists of two distinct muscles: The first cut is the larger, leaner piece. The second cut, which is also called "breast deckle," is on top of the first cut and has more much more integral fat (marbling). The interior fat alone makes the second cut more tender and juicy, but, in addition, it is attached to the first cut by a large layer of fat. The butcher trimmed almost all the fat from the outside of both cuts, but had to leave the layer of fat between the two muscles because it is the fat that links them together. Trimmed, the whole brisket weighed 10 pounds. I also got a whole piece of first cut brisket weighing 7 pounds. Butchers tell me that no one wants second cut brisket -- attached or not -- and so most butchers put it into their ground meat mixture. What a waste! It's one of the most flavorful cuts of meat on the entire animal. Now, before I get to the actual pot roast recipe and the experiment, here's a little history: I, of course, learned to make pot roast from my mother, who went through various stages with her pot roast over her lifetime. The recipe below is the one she started with because her mother, and her mother's Russian immigrant mother made it this way -- more or less. It's also the one she ended up making after the family suffered through years of pot roast made with Sauce Arturo, pot roast made with ketchup, pot roast made with Lipton's onion soup mix, and, the worst, pot roast made with Harvey's Bristol Cream Sherry. I have no idea where she came up with that one. During diet-conscious times, we also suffered through "first cut" brisket trimmed, as it is today, so closely that it always turned out stringy and dry, mealy or hard. Near the end of her life, however, my mother finally realized (with a little encouragement from her son) that the essentials for a melt-in-the-mouth, juicy pot roast are the tried and true and number only two: The whole brisket, fat and all, no browning necessary. And a lot, alot of onions; about half the meat's weight is a good rule of thumb. I made the whole brisket exactly that way. I cut in half the piece of first cut and cooked half of it that way, too. The other half of the lean "first cut" I first browned in a little vegetable oil on top of the stove in a very large skillet, and instead of putting the onions in raw, I wilted them in the browning skillet, which, at the same time, de-glazed the skillet. The best of the three was unquestionably the whole brisket. The browned first cut was juicier than the unbrowned first cut. The big surprise of the experiment, however, was that the whole brisket was absolute heaven the day it was made. I had expected it to be even better, or at least just as good, when reheated the next day. It wasn't. It's optimum moment was when it came out of the oven after 4 hours at 350 degrees. Still, it was excellent (and better than the others) on the second day, and easy to slice neatly. Follow my slicing and reheating directions below. Browning vs. not browning: If you insist on very lean first cut only, or if you are cooking for such a small number of people that a larger piece of meat becomes ridiculous or unaffordable, by all means brown the meat first -- over medium heat. A whole brisket is, for one thing, too large to brown in home-sized pots on a home range. On liquid: There is no need to add any liquid, especially if you do not brown the meat first. The vegetables and meat will produce an enormous amount of moisture as they cook. Even the browned meat and onions produce enough moisture to create some concentrated sauce. However, if you want a lot of sauce, add about a half-cup of beef broth or red wine to the pan with the browned piece of brisket. For the 10-pound piece of whole brisket, I followed these directions exactly. (Such a sizable piece of meat should make at least 20 servings.) 2 very large cloves garlic, finely chopped 1 8 to 10-pound brisket 1 1/2 teaspoons coarse sea salt 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 4 pounds onions, halved and sliced 3 medium carrots, sliced into 1/4-inch thick rounds 2 large, outside ribs celery, sliced 1/4-inch thick 4 small bay leaves 1. Rub 1 chopped clove of garlic into each side of the meat. 2. Salt and pepper the meat on both sides. 3. Spread the onions, carrots and celery on the bottom of the pan. Put the meat over the vegetables. Put 2 bay leaves under the meat, 2 on top of the meat. 4. Cover the pan tightly with aluminum foil and cook in a preheated 350-degree oven for 4 hours, until meat is just tender. 5. Let meat rest 20 minutes, then slice: Cut the second cut off of the first cut and trim off and discard the layer of fat between them. Slice both cuts across the grain, either straight down or at a slight diagonal angle. Skim any fat off the juices left in the pan, and serve the onions and vegetables with the juices as a sauce for both the meat and any starch accompaniment. If desired, you can puree some of the vegetables to make a thicker sauce. 6. If preparing ahead for serving another day, refrigerate until several hours before serving time. Skim hardened fat off the surface of the liquid that has collected around the meat, and off the surface of the meat. Allow the meat to come to room temperature before final heating. 7. About an hour before serving, using a long-bladed, preferably serrated knife (I use a bread knife), slice the meat about 1/4-inch thick. It will require a sawing motion and a strong arm. Do not disturb the conformation of the meat. Return the meat to the roasting pan as if it was still a whole brisket. 8. Baste with pan juices and heat, uncovered, for 45 minutes to 1 hour, basting a few times during that period. The surface of the meat should have browned nicely, and the slices of meat should be heated through and fork tender. Trim excess fat off the meat on the plate, as it is eaten. 9. Serving suggestion: Serve with kasha (buckwheat groats): Follow the directions on the back of the box, and top each helping with onions and juices from the pot roast. Or prepare kasha varnishkes: cooked buckwheat groats tossed with bow-tie macaroni and flavored with sauteed onions. Or serve with mashed potatoes flavored with schmaltz (chicken fat) and, if available, gribenes (the cracklings and blackened onions left from rendering the chicken fat), also topped with pan juices and onions. A green vegetable is up to you.
Creamy Rice Pudding Serves 8 I can't tell you how many requests I get for CREAMY rice pudding. It has to be really creamy, my listeners say -- but they'd prefer it without the cream. Well, after much experimentation, here's what I've come up with. 1 1/2 quarts whole milk 2/3 cup sugar 1/2 cup extra long grain rice 1/2 cup raisins 1 teaspoon vanilla extract As much as 2/3 cup additional whole milk Combine milk, sugar and rice in a heavy, 3-quart saucepan. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat, then reduce heat and cook uncovered for 1 hour, stirring occasionally. The milk should just barely simmer, with bubbles breaking only at the outside edge of the surface. After an hour, the rice should be soft. If you like raisins, add about 1/2 cup now, increase the heat to medium, and cook, stirring frequently now, until the rice has absorbed most of the rest of the milk -- but not all -- and the pudding is creamy, about 20 minutes longer. Remove from the heat and stir in the vanilla. Cool thoroughly then chill in the refrigerator. As it chills, the pudding will thicken. After a few hours in the refrigerator it will be quite thick, and probably no longer loose enough to be called "creamy." Just before serving, stir in as much as 2/3 cup whole milk, half and half, or cream). Serve chilled. (If eating only a portion of the pudding at a time, divide it before stirring the additional milk or cream.)
Alan Richman's Manly Meatballs Makes about 36 Alan Richman is the esteemed and always witty food writer for Gentleman's Quarterly magazine, but I take the blame for calling these his "manly" meatballs. He made them for a birthday party of our mutual friend Alexis Bespaloff, the well-known wine writer. As he was passing them on a platter, taking full responsibility for their simplicity and strong flavor, he explained that he made them because when he heard the menu planned by Alex's wife he felt there might be too much "sissy food" -- you know, pasta and salads. They are not, of course, anything like any recipe you've ever seen for Swedish meatballs, but to my mind they make an even better stand-in. Baking them on bread slices -- which, by the way, do not burn or get too hard, even though it seems as if they would -- makes them perfect finger food. 1 pound ground chuck (not leaner beef) 3 scallions, finely minced (use most of the green) 4 tablespoons dark soy sauce (or regular soy sauce, if that's all you have) 1 firmly packed teaspoon brown sugar (a rounded teaspoon, if using regular soy sauce) 1 baguette or ficelle (a small diameter French bread), about 20 inches long, sliced about 1/2-inch thick (if the bread has a large diameter, cut the slices in half, just a bit bigger than the meatballs) In a medium bowl, combine all the ingredients, except bread. With your hands, mix and knead thoroughly until the meat is a fine paste. Make balls the size of smallish walnuts. Place baguette slices on a baking sheet and place one meatball on each. Bake for 7 to 9 minutes in a preheated 450-degree oven until done to taste (Richman says "until just cooked through." I like them still rare.). Serve hot.
I saw this dish on an episode of the "The Best Of" on the Food Network. It looked delicious. It's a recipe from the Grand Central Oyster Bar and Restaurant-NY, NY Grand Central Oyster Bar Oyster Panroast Recipe Summary Prep Time: 5 minutes Cook Time: 12 minutes Yield: 1 portion 2 cups clam broth or juice 1 tablespoon sweet butter 1 teaspoon celery salt 1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce 6 extra select shucked oysters with juice 2 tablespoons sweet chili sauce 2 cups half-and-half 1 slice white toast Pinch sweet Hungarian paprika 1 package oyster crackers In a double boiler with water boiling on high, combine clam juice, butter, celery salt, and Worcestershire sauce. Once the butter melts, add the oysters and cook for 30 seconds, stirring constantly. Add chili sauce and stir well. Add half-and-half and cook for a few minutes until the cream is hot, but not boiling. Add a slice of white toast to a warm 9-inch soup plate and underline with a 10 5/8-inch plate. Using a slotted spoon, transfer oysters over toast in soup plate. Remove top pan and pour hot liquid contents over the oysters, filling to about 1/4-inch beneath the rim. Garnish with a dash of paprika. Serve with 1 package of oyster crackers.
i love every ingredient in there....wail til tomorrow....i found a nyc butcher shop that is unbelievable.....they posted some of their recipes....but the pictures....well judge for yourself.... http://www.lobels.com/index_lobels.htm
