Updates and Sidebar Items 2

May was a busy month, personally and professionally. I always feel so much better when the sun comes back out! I didn't do much blogging but there's been all kinds of meat curing in my fridge over the last 30 days, so the pictures are forthcoming.

This week I'm going to do a posting on the recipes that live in my cluttered head and one on my mini-charcuterie operation I've got going in my hard working old kitchen. In the meantime I've got a few notes and a couple of stupid stories I don't want to forget.

Kalustyan's

First off, my new second-favorite place in the world is a food-stuffs shop on Lexington Ave at 29th St called Kalustyan's. It's still hasn't replaced The Strand as my official Favorite Place In The World, but another bag of cinnamon dates and it might.

There are a lot of Indian restaurants in the neighborhood and the store is staffed almost entirely by Indians, so they carry a whole range of expected ghees and curries. BUT, this is also the only place in New York I can find rennet, sodium nitrate, lemon salt, reasonably priced dried dates in bulk, Mexican oregano, juniper berries and the list goes on. The Spices & Herbs section of their website has 1364 listings!!!!! And they're friendly!

This is one of my favorite things from Kalustyan's, dried dates, at one of my favorite places to eat them, the reservoir at Central Park. Spring time!! It makes me want to use exclamation points!!

Grub at The Garden

I got invited to the last Knicks game of the season. We mostly went to join in the Fire Isiah chants, but it turned out to be free food night too, woo-hoo. We watched the pre-game at my place, just a few blocks downtown from Madison Square Garden, and got extra um, hungry.

It was a freaking extravaganza, as I literally consumed all or part of a hot dog, hamburger, pretzel, slice of pizza, Haagen Daas bar, popcorn, a box of Cracker Jacks, an ice cream cone, chips and about a gallon of soda. The only thing that wasn't free was the beer, but I didn't pay for the ticket either, so. I had an excuse to pay for arena beer.

Tiny Car, Big World

These Smart Cars are all the rage out here now. A guy on my block has had one for months and a second one popped up last week. With no room for parking, absurd gas prices and a 10 mph weekday average on any street below 86th, I guess they make sense. There's just no dignified way to get in or out of them.

The best thing ever though, is watching somebody in a Smart Car try to get food at a Drive-Thru window and not be able to reach high enough to grab the bag. Poor lady with her short arms and tiny car. They should call it the Barnum Bailey Clownmobile.

Bartering with the Chinese

I needed a non-reactive stockpot for my mozzarella cheese adventure, but the prices of the ones I could find were an insult to any reasonable person's intelligence. It didn't take me long to figure out that Chinatown was my best option. There are restaurant supply places all up and down Bowery below Houston, most of them take walk in customers. They aren't getting too excited for one guy buying one pot, but how likely is it that I'm going to be able to leave with one item?

The day's take.

I of course had 10 bags before I got back on the subway, but the best thing I bought all day were the tongs resting humbly in the back of this picture. They're like a Swiss Army Knife for the kitchen and have become my most-used accessory. I can grab, stir, scoop and poke and still only have to wash one thing. If I sharpened one of the edges and could cut with them I wouldn't need anything else but a fork.

Mamma's Meat Loaf

Okay, this isn't how my mom made it, but that's the name of the dish anyway. There's a brilliant little Italian place on Ave B called Max and they make meat loaf with a hard boiled egg in it. I like it so much I had it for my birthday last year, and not for the first time. There's a new artisnal ice cream shop just up the street now too, which makes the whole visit somehow even better.

I tried to recreate the Max meatloaf at home and it turned out pretty good, but far from perfect. One of the highlights of their dish is the spicing of the meat, which I didn't get right. I also forgot the prosciutto that they shred into the meat mixture, which helps keep it moist and adds, you know, prosciutto. Always a good thing.

I'll follow up with a proper posting on it when I get it right, but suffice it to say for now that you should add an egg to the middle of your meatloaf next time. It's a little weird and kind of surprising but works out well in the end. Like a David Lynch movie. Maybe that's what I'll call my version, David Lynch Meat Loaf.

Is he a vegetarian?

Have a Burger for your Dead Homies

Made cole slaw and sauce and some other crap for a rooftop barbecue in Tribeca on Memorial Day. I don't know what it had to do with remembering the dead, but the beer was coooooold.

And last but not least...

A story.

When I was but a wee lad, there was an age of marketing that centered around the Supermodel. Cindy Crawford seemed to lead the pack, but my absolute, all-time, tear out the page and tape it to the inside of your locker model was Laetitia Casta.

She had some curves that a lot of the other models didn't, she always had this look like she was waiting for some guy to put out a cigarette so he could have sex with her and she was French, which meant she showed her boobs in foreign films. Sold.

Well, I met Laetitia Casta, girl of my boyhood dreams. She was skinny, really skinny, and looked so bored it made me wish I knew a magic trick. I worked on a series of commercials for a French make up company, and she was one of the models. As it happened, we met at the craft service table, which is a magic spread of cheeses and meats and veggies and dips and little hot dogs and cookies that is replenished all day long by the snack fairy, usually a stoner with an eclectic book collection and a talent for homemade guacamole.

ANYWAY, I'm at the craft service table when Laetitia Casta walks over. I've got a beard and a shaggy mess on top of my head, I've been in a truck all day so I smell like a MAN, I'm pretty sure I had dog shit on my shoe. And I'm dishing myself out a nice bowl of strawberry shortcake with lots of whipped cream on top.

Now, she probably made $1000 for every $1 that I made that day, but the look on her face while she ate snap peas and I finished off a big piece of strawberry shortcake made up a little bit of that chasm. I got obnoxious with it too, leaving bits of whipped cream in my beard and picking fruit out of the bowl with my fingers.

She's hot and rich, but bored and starved. I'm ugly and broke, but there were blueberries in it too - another one of life's little victories.