Han Ju

Occasion: Impromptu high school reunion (Fran and Dean, Elgent and Amy, Tony, Warren, Tania, Jason, Alfred, Bib, Marianne, and non-high school friends Sahoko and Doug and their little girl, Hiona)
Location: Han Ju Tofu Hot Pot on Capstan Way in Richmond
Edibles: Korean bbq beef on rice, with various sides piled on top

Musings: Not much to say about the food. It's cheap and decent enough. Note that it looks pretty substantial in the picture but the dish isn't very deep; more than one guy ordered a second dinner after mowing through his first.

The company was the main attraction. Most of these people I only get to see once every couple of years, if that. After dinner, we went to a Tim Horton's and spent hours reminiscing and poring over old yearbooks. As the sunscreen speech goes, "Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young."

Le Crocodile

Occasion: Celebratory dinner with the family, for my upcoming birthday and my brother's stellar LSAT score (congrats, kid!)
Location: Le Crocodile on Burrard at Smithe (lecrocodilerestaurant.com)
Edibles: I had three apps for my meal - foie gras terrine with toast points, a crabcake, and salmon three ways ("west coast" style, smoked, tartare), with tiramisu and a latte to finish; my sister had the halibut with beurre blanc sauce and linguine (no app); my brother started with the steak tartare and had the same halibut main; my mom started with the salmon trio, followed by escargots, followed by a prawn and scallop dish with angelhair pasta; my dad had half a dozen raw Kusshi oysters and a duck main course

Musings: The best French restaurant I know in Vancouver. The interior is small and intimate, with rich but understated colors. The waitstaff tends to be comprised of the career type; they are uniformly calm and capable. The food is high quality and incredibly consistent. And yet... it's rare that I have a completely satisfying experience here (which I demand at this price point).

For example, my dad still hasn't forgiven them the time they charged him twice the corkage fee quoted over the phone. That night, he gritted his teeth and shelled out $80 for the two bottles we brought, prevented from arguing with the manager by the presence of guests. I think my dad needs to get over it, but I also think that if a restaurant employee tell a customer something by mistake over the phone, the restaurant should honor the original statement, if only as a one-time exception.

For tonight, I e-mailed for a reservation at 7:00. They returned with a confirmation for 6:30. When we walked into the restaurant, it was more than half empty. If so, why not just give people the reservation they want? Le Crocodile does good business, but I doubt they turn every single table on a weeknight.

I ordered a cocktail, and my martini filled half the glass, no exaggeration. For looks alone, either mix a more generous drink or use a smaller glass. It also tasted terrible.

My mood definitely improved when the food started arriving. The foie terrine and crabcake are two old favorites, and they tasted as good as the first time I had them years ago. (The terrine really should be shared; it's a huge slab too rich for one person to finish, even by my greedy standards.) I also enjoyed my salmon trio, though I found the west coast one to be too sweet. I had a nibble of my brother's boldly seasoned tartare and one of my mom's buttery, garlicky escargots - both yummy.

The food at Le Crocodile is plated old-school; it's all very precise, ornate, sauced and garnished up the wazoo. The culmination was my dessert - a tiramisu painstakingly built in a chocolate demitasse cup, complete with tuile spoon.

It's nice for a special occasion but, for me, Le Crocodile just misses the mark for being a true top-flight restaurant.

St. Germain Bakery

Location: Oakridge Shopping Centre in Vancouver, among others

Best loaf of bread in the city.

I remember when there was only one out-of-the-way location (on Cambie, I think) and we would go especially for the bread. The three of us kids would eat half the thing in the car, ripping chunks off the fragrant, freshly-baked, sometimes still hot loaf. My mom would grumble about crumbs, but then even she would succumb and ask for a corner.

You now have to special-order a full loaf of their unsliced white bread, a weighty, ponderous column almost the length of your arm. (You can get smaller portions of pre-sliced bread any time.) It has a silky-fine crumb and is chewy and substantial in the mouth, yet somehow avoids being dense. When sliced thickly, toasted and slathered with butter, it's a superb breakfast. Or afternoon snack. Or a bite for whenever you happen to wander through the kitchen.

(They also do good repertoire of Chinese cakes and pastries.)

Tapastree [closed]

Occasion: Dinner with high school buds Tania, Warren, Bib and Alfred
Location: Tapastree on Robson off Denman (tapastree.ca)
Edibles: buttermilk fried chicken with aioli; flatiron steak with gorgonzola sauce; chicken livers with tomatoes, brandy and black pepper; duck confit with cranberry compote; lamb chops; tomato bocconcini avocado salad; grilled asparagus; ahi tuna with ponzu and Chinese mustard; wild mushrooms with goat cheese on toast; sticky toffee pudding; crème brûlée

Musings: I've been coming here for ages. Ages. So long, in fact, that most of my Vancouver friends refer to it as "my" tapas place. (It was originally Sylvia's, and her ex Ollie's before her, but I've been the most devoted over the years.) Sadly, many of the dishes I loved best are no longer on the menu - I'm still mourning the loss of those amazing fried oysters - but the new offerings are wonderful too.

I think we ordered all of their meat dishes. My favorite was probably the fried chicken, with the steak and lamb running a close race for second.

The veggie dishes aren't slouches, though. The wild mushroom dish is a perennial favorite, and though I was outvoted on the Japanese eggplant this particular dinner, I usually get that as well. The asparagus we did order was decent, but I thought it was a tad overpriced at $9.

A shocking revelation did take place at the end of the meal, when the waitress came to take our dessert orders. It happened almost by accident. In the course of ordering our fancy coffees, we were (or at least I was) aghast to discover that the kitchen does not stock full fat milk!! Just 2%!!

Horrors.

Okay. First, how can you claim to offer a decent after-dinner coffee without full fat milk? Second - and more chilling - how do you make your crème brûlée?!?! (Which, despite its name, contains no cream. The custard is made with milk.) I understand not getting it through your bulk supplier but there's a Safeway just across the street - why not keep a few litres in the walk-in?

I calmed down a little after a generous dose of sticky toffee pudding. A little.

Dairy scandal aside, our varied and delicious meal, bottle of white, dessert, tip and tax came out to $45 a person. Karen and Josie, I'm looking forward to taking you guys here in February! I may bring my own milk.

Adonia

Occasion: Tea with Jess (who I had possibly not seen since we graduated from high school)
Location: Adonia Tea House on W 41st Ave in Vancouver (adoniatea.com)
Edibles: I had the lobster bisque and peach tea; Jess had the carrot soup and English breakfast tea; we split a BLT to fill in the gaps

Musings: Charming, fussy and cosy, like the living room of a storybook English grandmother. I do slightly prefer the yuppie farmhouse vibe of Secret Garden Tea, but when Secret Garden told us it'd be 45 min. for a seat, we scooted around the corner and down the block to Adonia, where we were seated immediately.

My peach tea was thick and pulpy, more like a fruit pureé than a tea, but its sweet summery brightness was more than welcome on that chilly, grey Vancouver afternoon. My mom, knowing about my trials and tribulations with lobster stock, mentioned that Adonia had a good bisque, and that she might be able to get me the recipe if I liked it. (The owner is one of my many unofficial "aunties.") I did like it. It was flavorful and savory but not too boozy, as bisques can often be. I'll have to get my mom on that recipe's trail, pronto.

It was wonderful to catch up, Jess - let's not wait 10 years for the next one, eh?

Sun Sui Wah

Occasion: Dim sum with the family
Location: Sun Sui Wah on No. 3 Road in Richmond (sunsuiwah.com) [Note: another location in Vancouver proper]
Edibles: har gao; shu mai; fish congee; shrimp fun; pan-fried daikon cake; leaf tripe; spring rolls; rice with chicken and Chinese sausage; Chinese broccoli with oyster sauce; tapioca pudding; mango pudding; egg tarts (you eat with my mom, you leave the table groaning in pain)

Musings: My go-to dim sum place in Vancouver. They were one of the last restaurants in Vancouver to still have the little old ladies pushing the carts around; they've recently gone over to the dark side, a.k.a. the order form.

Sun Sui Wah's food is solid across the board, from the gringo favorites like shu mai to more obscure animal extremities and organs, should you feel more adventurous. The chicken rice, in particular, is not to be missed.

Mmmm... Christmas Dinner

Occasion: Christmas Eve dinner at home with my family
Edibles: prosciutto butter roast turkey; gravy; classic mashed potatoes; brussels sprouts with bacon; homemade cranberry sauce; candied yams

My sister campaigned hard this year for turkey at Christmas. She argued - quite persuasively - that Christmas Day just wasn't the same without my mom's leftover turkey mi fun. So we had ham for Thanksgiving and saved this menu until now:

Prosciutto Butter Roast Turkey
(based on Martha's Turkey 101)

We do a dry rub of salt, pepper, and seasoning spice (the scary orangey spice mix they sell at the grocery store) the day before. Day of, I stuff prosciutto butter (my own invention - slices of prosciutto chopped up and mashed into a stick of softened butter) under the skin. The butter keeps the white meat really moist, while the prosciutto flavors the meat and results in a very attractive thin layer of russet under the skin when you slice into it.

Just follow Martha's Turkey 101 for roasting temperatures and timing, the basting liquid, and the cheesecloth trick. [Slight divergences from Martha: My stuffing requires the giblets and my mom likes the neck (which we roast in the pan along with the turkey), so we use commercial chicken stock for the basting liquid. I also shortcut the gravy by making a packet of the powdered stuff and adding some pan drippings.]

When carving, I use Ina's method of removing an entire breast, then slicing it on a cutting board so that each piece gets some of the skin.

I confess, I bungled the turkey this year. Alton convinced me that stuffing is evil, so this year I decided to put some aromatics (a clove of garlic, a quartered onion, wedges of orange) in the cavity and bake the "stuffing" in a dish on the side.

Problem is, when I make actual stuffing, I take the turkey out of the fridge in the morning and it comes to room temperature while I make the stuffing and wait for it to cool. This time, I didn't remember to take the turkey out of the fridge until the late afternoon, and so didn't have time to let the chill dissipate before we had to stick it in the oven. Big mistake. We cooked the turkey the same amount of time we always do, and the dark meat was still half-raw when we carved into it. (I know, I know, I need to get a meat thermometer.)

Luckily, the white meat was fully cooked so we had that for dinner and stuck the rest of the turkey back in the oven. (It took another hour and a half to cook all the way through. What a difference a few degrees make!)

I also forgot to make the stuffing. Sigh. Good thing we didn't have guests.

Mashed Potatoes

Just like my beurre noisette mashed potatoes, except you just use regular butter.

Brussels Sprouts with Bacon

Trim and clean brussels sprouts; halve any large ones. Chop up some bacon. In a pan, cook the bacon until the fat is rendered and the bacon bits are crispy. Remove the bacon but leave the fat. Sauté the brussels sprouts in the bacon fat for a few minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Splash in a little chicken stock. Cover and steam for about 5 min, until the brussels sprouts are cooked through but still have some bite to them. Sprinkle with the bacon bits before serving.

Cranberry Sauce
(based on Ina's recipe)

1 bag of fresh cranberries
1 Granny Smith apple, peeled, cored and chopped
1¼ cups sugar
1 lemon, juice and zest
a squirt of honey
a splash of dessert wine or white wine

Wash the cranberries and discard any that feel soft and pulpy. Cook in a saucepan for about 20 min with all the other ingredients. It will look fairly runny in the pan, but the pectin in the apple will help it set up as it cools. If the cranberry skins really bother you, you can strain the sauce through a china cap. (I find that the sauce is too thick to strain well, and you will lose some volume.)

Cranberry sauce is astoundingly easy to make, and tastes leagues better than the stuff from a can. Once you taste this, you'll never go back.

Variations: To jazz it up, you can add a ½ cup of chopped walnuts and/or raisins. To give is some muscle, use grappa instead of wine.

Candied Yams

At our house, we have candied yams for dessert. This dish and my stuffing are based on recipes from my Great-aunt Angela. They're a little white trash sounding, even though my great-aunt is Chinese and firmly white collar. Not really sure of the story behind it.

yams, halved and sliced into ½-inch slices
butter
mini marshmallows

Butter a baking dish and dump the sliced yams in. Dot generously with butter and throw in about a handful of marshmallows per yam. Cover with foil and bake at 375° for 30 to 45 min, until the yams are soft and falling apart. You might give it a bit of a stir in the middle to make sure everything is coated in the syrup.

This recipe will work for any number of yams, depending on how many people you're serving. Just increase the amounts of butter and marshmallows accordingly. Increase cooking time as well if the yams get more than about three layers deep in your baking dish (it's pretty hard to overcook this dish, so I wouldn't stress out about it).

Penelope

Occasion: Combined review - brunch with my Penn girls, Kathy, Yining and Huijin (in town from Hong Kong) on 12/12, and brunch with Sylvia a week later (12/19)
Location: Penelope on Lex at 30th (penelopenyc.com)
Edibles: 12/12 - omelet for me; pumpkin waffles with dried cranberries and pecans for Huijin; egg sandwich with pesto for Kathy; a Benedict-eque egg dish with smoked salmon for Yining; 12/19 - we shared a spinach and cheese omelet and the Nutella French toast

Musings: Penelope is the sort of charming little place you'd find in abundance on the westside. Given that it's located in the dead zone of midtown east, you can imagine the locals are nuts about it. Be prepared to wait an hour for a table at brunch.

The food is worth the wait, though. I'm basically incapable of going to brunch and not ordering eggs. In that sense, Penelope's menu works against me. Their savory brunch options are solid, but it's their sweet dishes that are truly outstanding. The waffles were great on 12/12 and the Nutella French toast was the best dish I tasted, period. They also make good coffee and are diligent about refilling your cup.

If you want to avoid the crowds, Penelope's is also a good place for a regular weekday lunch or dinner.

L'Artusi

Occasion: Birthday dinner for Elizabeth
Location: L'Artusi on W 10th between Hudson and Bleecker (lartusi.com)
Edibles: I had the scallop crudo, followed by the grilled quail with pancetta and sweet potatoes; Elizabeth had the bucatini with pancetta and tomato, and the braised pork special; Abby had the pizzocheri (a pasta dish with brussels sprouts, fontina and sage)

Musings: I'd love to know what the decorator was going for. The interior screams hip and trendy for sure, but also struck me as sort of Pottery Barn meets Abercrombie, which I doubt was the intent. There is a lovely private-ish area upstairs, framed by racks of wine and more brightly lit than the rest of the tables, perfect for a larger group.

The food was good overall, if somewhat overpriced. My crudo, for example, was wonderfully fresh and delicate. But the slices probably didn't amount to more than one whole scallop, so it was pricey at $13. The quail sat in a fantastic broth. Unfortunately, the chef used too heavy a hand with the rosemary and not enough of one with the salt. Abby's "pasta" had good flavors; texture-wise, it seemed more like a cheesy dip than a noodle dish. But maybe you're into that.

Mmmm... stewed pork on rice

I hesitated over posting on today's cooking. I (obviously) did it, but I'm warning you in advance that this "recipe" is even more vague my recipes usually are. It's my mom's, and not only did she not have any quantitative measurements to begin with, but I also lost track of my own measurements while fiddling with it and trying to get it to taste like hers. My best advice for mastering this dish, if you're at all interested in doing so, is to call me up one day and have me cook it for you once.  =)

Mom's Stewed Pork Sauce
(sort of a Chinese bolognese)

2 lbs of ground pork
6 shallots, finely chopped
soy sauce
water
cooking wine (I used a traditional Chinese salted rice wine this time, but I've also used vodka in a pinch)
honey or sugar
pepper
nutmeg (my addition; can omit)

In a large pot, pour in a puddle of oil and cook the shallots thoroughly, until they're a uniform deep mahogany brown. Add the pork and brown. Break up any clumps of meat; you want as fine a texture of cooked pork as you have the patience for. Add a generous glug of cooking wine, soy sauce, your sweetener of choice, pepper and nutmeg to season (taking into account the water that will be added next). Add water until it covers the meat, plus an inch. Simmer over low heat for at least 1 hour.

About a half hour in, you can add up to a dozen peeled, hard-boiled eggs to stew in the sauce. Instant side dish!

Serve over rice.

The Man Who Ate the World

by Jay Rayner

My review: 3/5 stars

A decent enough food book, but a thought struck me early on and only became more reinforced as I read: Jay Rayner is a journalist first and a foodie second. His first love is clearly words; the book takes place too much in his head and not enough in his mouth.

Some distractingly bad copy-editing. For example, there's a hotel, the name of which is spelled two different ways on successive pages. Oh, and if there's one word you need to get right in a book about food, that word is "palate."

Worth borrowing from the library if you're into food porn (as I unapologetically am) but not a keeper for the permanent shelf.

An excerpt below from my favorite chapter - on New York City, natch. (I clipped and reformatted liberally, too much to faithfully use ellipses or any other notations. Just imagine they're scattered throughout.)

"I go straight to a food discussion board called Opinionated About. The thread I want, the one I have been waiting for, is finally there. It's located exactly where it should be: in the 'Formal Dining' part of the website, under 'New York.' The first post had gone up about an hour before and is by a man called Steve Plotnicki.

There are a couple of dozen photographs, all of them of plated food: an egg in an egg cup with a turban of cream piled high with shiny black caviar; slices of fish, fanned across the plate and drizzled with a sauce in a funky shade of yellow. There is a duck dish and a foie gras dish, and a whole bunch of other things besides. Plotnicki has invited the members of this site to identify where the meal that these dishes were a part of, was taken.

The first response had been posted just twenty-four minutes after the original. Samantha's message says simply "Per Se." I note that Samantha hasn't bothered with a question mark. She is certain she is right.

She is. "That was one of the places we ate at," Plotnicki replies.

A few minutes later someone called Ian chips in. "Eleven Madison Park and WD-50." Again, no question mark.

"That makes three," Plotnicki says. "Two to go."

Ian is on a roll. "Jean-Georges."

"You're a clever lad," Plotnicki says. "One left."

Now the first note of disbelief creeps in, from a poster called Scotty. "Five dinners in one night? Respect."

"How does one logistically eat that many meals @ dinner?" asks another.

"Some serious eating there chaps," says a third. "I applaud your bravery and your gluttony."

Plotnicki explains: these dishes were part of a restaurant crawl taking in five of the very best restaurants in the city - no more than two or three small, tasting-menu-sized courses in each place - that it was prearranged and that the two diners involved were't always served the same dish, which explains the large number of photographs. Not that any of this is news to me. I know all the details. I know all the dishes. As he has already said, Plotnicki was not alone in this adventure. He had an accomplice. That accomplice was me."

Top Chef Las Vegas Finale

Original Air Date: December 9, 2009

1) That pictures says it all, doesn't it? Congratulations, Mike! I think it was the right result for several reasons. Mike presented the most ambitious menu. Bryan already has his own restaurant. Plus, I feel like he's already the chef he's going to be for the rest of his life, whereas Mike still has unexplored frontiers.
2) Looks like the perfect meal would have been:
     - Kevin's first course: fried chicken skin (uh, YUM) with squash casserole and
       tomato
     - Mike's second: dashi-glazed rock fish with sweet and sour crab salad, squash
       and lemon
     - Bryan's third: venison saddle with sunchoke purée and orange-juniper sauce
     - a tie between Bryan's dessert (white chocolate and dulce de leche
       cheesecake and fig sorbet over dry caramel) for actual execution and Mike's
       dessert (chocolate caramel coulant, butternut squash brûlée, ice-cream and
       candied pumpkin seeds) for concept.
3) I think the match-ups worked against Bryan in the sense that his food probably wouldn't have come across as bland if it was all you were eating. But compared to Mike's complex flavors and Kevin's down-home boldness (he strikes me as a guy who seasons with a heavy hand), his dishes got a little drowned out.
4) I'm very sad about Kevin. I'm guessing the combination of Preeti's bumbling sous-cheffery and the weird ingredients in the mystery box really threw him off his game. But. Dude. Don't choose a slow-cooking method for your protein if you don't have enough time!! And what happened to all the fun sauces he made earlier in the season? Fact is, he coasted a little in these last two rounds and was scared to go outside his comfort zone.
5) I can't believe the final four accounted for 9 of 13 Quickfire wins and ALL the Elimination wins of the season (12 of 13 for the final three - another reason why it was right that Jen came in fourth). It was obvious from the start that some cheftestants would dominate, but that's pretty amazing.

And that's a wrap, folks!

Top Chef Las Vegas Ep. 13

Original Air Date: December 2, 2009

1) I was sad to see Jen go, but her track record was the spottiest of the folks left. I mean, she really flubbed Restaurant Wars, as well as a whole bunch of other challenges. By that measure, it was right she was the one to go home.

2) Still, a pinch of salt - that's the margin for error with these finalists.
3) Considering how lopsided this season was in terms of talent, it might have been more fun with a format like Masters. Something like double eliminations every episode and four rounds of finals. (Jen would have been booted even earlier, though.)
4) Kevin's "toothsome" comment - what a lawyer move. Too bad the judges didn't buy it.
5) I hate Padma's bangs. I think they make her look like Spock.

Mmmm... chicken pot soup

So named because I made it by accident once while trying to make chicken pot pie filling - added WAY too much milk. Now I make it this way on purpose so I don't have to fiddle with pastry for the pot pie. If you're making it for a dinner party, call it Chicken Fricassée.

Chicken Pot Soup
(based on Martha's chicken pot pie filling)

8 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
2 onions, coarsely chopped
5 carrots, peeled and coarsely chopped
2 lbs of mushrooms (white or crimini), quartered
1 packet of frozen peas (I like the bigger garden peas)
½ stick of butter
¼ cup flour
2 cups milk
2 cups chicken stock
thyme
salt and pepper

Boil the chicken in salted water with the carrot and onion trimmings (or with actual mirepoix and a bouquet garni if you're feeling ambitious). Chicken should be cooked through. Remove from water, pat dry and shred into bite-sized pieces. Reserve the chicken; discard the cooking water and flotsam.

In a large pot, melt the butter and sauté the onions and carrots. Sprinkle in the flour, and cook for a while in the fat to get rid of the raw flour taste, a.k.a. make a roux. Add the milk and stock. Add cooked, shredded chicken and mushrooms. Season with thyme, salt and pepper. Let it stew for a while, 30 min to 1 hour. Add the peas about 10 min before you intend to eat it. Garnish with fresh parsley if you have some lying around.

Variations: It's soup. It's very forgiving, so customize away! If you're a philistine who doesn't like dark meat, use white meat. For added richness, use 1 cup milk and 1 cup cream. I don't like pearl onions, but feel free to fling those in, if you like them. Other vegetables will also work - Ina's vegetable pot pie has butternut squash, fennel, potatoes, asparagus and green beans (just be careful not to overcook the last two).

Mmmm... burrata from Murray's Cheese

Location: Murray's Cheese in the Grand Central Market (murrayscheese.com) [Note: another location in Greenwich Village]

Murray's is practically synonymous with cheese in the city. And it's easy to see why: they've got excellent selection and the staff really know their business. Recently, I was thrilled to discover that, among its many charms, Murray's carries burrata.

For the uninitiated, burrata is a special subset of mozzarella, and an artisanal cheese in its own right. Burrata tastes like it was barely touched by human hands but it's actually surprisingly complicated to make. (And to my dismay, beyond the capacity of the home cook.) Basically, it's a skin of mozzarella, gathered and tied around a heavenly pulp of mozzarella scraps and fresh cream.

Murray's imports burrata from Italy weekly and though it's not as mild as ones I've had in restaurants (it ages a little more during transportation), it's still thrillingly fresh and creamy. It's expensive at $11 for a fist-sized ball, and a bit too much for one person to eat in a single sitting, but I didn't let either of those things stop me.

[Note: On my second visit a week later, I got a burrata that seemed to be less fresh. The cream had absorbed into the cheese in the center much more, and the taste was less milky and more acidic. As freshness is critical with burrata, I now know to ask about the delivery date.]

Stonehome Wine Bar

Occasion: Pre-theatre (A Streetcar Named Desire) dinner with Kristina

Location: Stonehome Wine Bar on Lafayette Ave between Elliot Place and Portland Ave in Brooklyn (stonehomewinebar.com)

Edibles: tagliatelle with mushrooms for both of us (no time for an app, according to the waiter)

Musings: The space is narrow and cosy with perfect date lighting, and just a few blocks from BAM's Harvey Theatre. I feel like I only had a quick how-de-do with this place but I'm excited for my second visit, whenever that may be. The pasta was terrific, the wine was exactly what I asked for, and the French press coffee at the end was just the thing to stave off sleepiness during the show.

I really do think we could have fit two courses in (after all, you can sear a scallop in three minutes), but that's just a quibble.

Lupa

Occasion: Black Friday lunch with my mom and sister
Location: Lupa on Thompson between Houston and Bleecker(luparestaurant.com)
Edibles: antipasti to start - broccoli rabe with ricotta; beets with pistachio sauce; roasted butternut squash with red onion; octopus with garbanzo beans; I had the spaghetti carbonara; my sister had the gnocchi with tomato sauce; my mom had the tonarelli with pork shoulder ragu

Musings: After three chilly hours of shopping in Soho, we stopped off at Lupa for some much-needed carbs. Luckily, we beat the lunch rush and were seated immediately. (Lupa can be tricky to get into. They take reservations, but for such a small percentage of the restaurant that you need to call more than a week in advance. If you're taking your chances without a reservation, go early. Being willing to eat at the bar also helps.)

It's been my experience that the vegetables are always amazing at Batali restaurants. I don't know what the story is behind it, but if you're at Otto, Casa Mono or Lupa, be sure to get some. Today was no exception. I loved the pistachio sauce on the beets in particular.

The octopus was the most expensive starter at $10 for a little cup, and it was a letdown. The octopus had a very strange texture, sort of spongy and mealy. It actually felt a little gross to chew and swallow it.

We did two rotations of the pastas so that everyone could taste everything. I was in raptures over the carbonara: the perfect amount of sauce, the perfect amount of salt, lots of pancetta bits and cracked black pepper. YUM. The tonarelli was also excellent, a hearty winter dish with tender shreds of pork and fresh pasta. The gnocchi were pillowy and satisfying but paled in comparison to the other two dishes, which were simply outstanding.

I just love Lupa. I had my birthday dinner here last year and, while the group dining menu is not cheap, the courses was very generous and everyone had a great time. For its relaxed atmosphere, excellent veggies and knock-your-socks-off fresh pastas, Lupa easily makes the NYC Hall of Fame.

Mmmm... Thanksgiving

Occasion: Turkey Day! Except with no turkey...
Edibles: maple-roasted brussels sprouts; roasted carrots with butter and cilantro; beurre noisette mashed potatoes; spiced ham with cranberry applesauce; chocolate fruitcake

An orgy of recipes below.

Maple-Roasted Brussels Sprouts

Trim and clean brussels sprouts; halve any large ones. Toss with a 50/50 mixture of olive oil and maple syrup, like you'd dress a salad. Sprinkle in a little salt and pepper. Spread out on a baking sheet and bake at 375° for 20-30 minutes, depending on the size of the brussels sprouts. Garnish with toasted, sliced almonds.

Roasted Carrots

(This was a last-minute addition to the menu, after my mom got worried that we wouldn't have enough food.)

Peel, then slice carrots on the diagonal into ½-inch slices. Toss with some olive oil, salt and pepper. Spread out on a baking sheet and bake at 375° for 20-30 minutes. I finished them with a little butter and chopped cilantro for interest.

[Note: If you've roasted one vegetable, you've roasted 'em all. The above method works for everything from peppers to potatoes to butternut squash to asparagus. Just remember that the bigger the pieces and the harder the vegetable, the longer they have to cook.]

Beurre Noisette Mashed Potatoes

Peel, cut up and boil some Russet potatoes - however many you think you will need for your guests. When cooked, drain and mash by hand* with beurre noisette (see next paragraph) in whatever quantity you like. (I like the equivalent of one tablespoon of butter per potato. At the upper limit, Joël Robuchon's famous pommes purée uses an insane one stick of butter for every pound of potatoes.) Thin with hot milk or hot stock until you get the texture you like. Season with salt, pepper and nutmeg (freshly grated is best).

Beurre noisette (a.k.a. brown-butter) is made by melting butter at medium-low heat. Continue to heat on med-low, stirring frequently, until the milk solids have separated and browned. The result should be a toasty amber color and taste nutty, hence the name en français. You can choose to use the speckled brown bits or not. They're flavorful, but will mar the unblemished creamy whiteness of the potatoes.

[*Note: If you have a food mill or potato ricer, you can use that. You cannot, however, make mashed potatoes in a food processor or blender - you will be making glue instead.]

Spiced Ham
(based on Nigella's recipe)

a 6lb boneless mild-cured gammon
1 bottle of red wine (something decent)
1 cup cranberry juice
water
2 cloves of garlic, crushed
1 large onion, halved
2 star anise
1 tbsp coriander seed
1 tbsp fennel seed
1 tbsp whole peppercorns

For the glaze:
whole cloves
some sort of preserve (Nigella calls for red currant jelly, heated and doctored with smoked paprika, cinnamon and red wine vinegar; I used cranberry apple butter from Trader Joe's, straight out of the jar)

Place the ham in the smallest pot that it will fit in (to minimize the amount of water you'll need to cover it). Glug in the wine and juice, and put in all the aromatics. Add enough water to (mostly) submerge the ham. Bring to a simmer and cook, partially covered, for 2 to 2½ hours. Remove the ham to cool and discard the cooking liquid. Preheat the oven to 440° F. [Note: even if they will all fit in your oven at the same time, the temperature is too hot to roast vegetables.]

Once ham has cooled slightly, trim off the rind and most (but not all!) of the fat. Score the remaining fat in a medium-sized diamond pattern. Stud a clove in at every intersection. Cover the ham with the glaze you've chosen and bake for about 15 minutes to burnish. Unlike turkey and most other roasts, ham does not need to rest before you carve it.

[Thanks go out to Kathy, Bess, Yining and Liliana for sharing their spices!]

Cranberry Applesauce

5 apples, peeled and cubed (I like Granny Smiths)
½ cup fresh cranberries
½ cup cranberry juice
sugar and honey to taste

Heat the fruits and juice over medium heat. Stir occasionally. You're done cooking when the apples fall apart into a smooth, lump-free sauce. (You can help it along with a potato masher.) For sweetening, I start with about ¼ cup of sugar and then adjust while it's cooking. How much you end up using will depend on how sweet you like your applesauce, but remember that cranberries are VERY tart.

I added the cranberries for the holiday, but it turns the sauce an alarming Hubba Bubba shade of pink. Compositionally speaking, it's also too close to the color of the ham. I'll probably just do plain applesauce (with a little lemon juice and zest) for the next ham.

The Butcher Block

Location: on 41st, just off Queens Blvd in Sunnyside (close to the 40th St / Lowery stop on the 7 train)

Instead of a turkey, my plan this year was to bake a spiced ham based on a Nigella recipe. The recipe listed a "mild-cured gammon," and called for it to be boiled for 2 to 3 hours before going in the oven. I knew that I could find a fully cooked, spiral-cut ham or a fresh, uncured ham (a.k.a. pork roast), but this recipe seemed to require something in between.

I called Lobel's to confirm. Once I got past the call center to the store itself, a butcher named Paul immediately said, "What you're looking for is an Irish ham. We don't have it, but The Butcher Block will." And indeed they did.

From the name it sounds like they just sell meat but they're actually a grocery / market that stocks all sorts of Irish and British foodstuffs. The guy I spoke to on the phone was very friendly and informative; the butchers were likewise in person. My six-pound ham cost a very reasonable $30. Recipe to follow.

I was particularly tickled by the fact that everyone in the store, from the employees to the customers (except me) had the full-on "they're after me Lucky Charms" Irish accent.

Mmmm... chocolate fruitcake

I had never eaten or baked a fruitcake in my life, but Nigella convinced me. I'm pleased to inform you that her promises were not empty ones.

On the first bite, my immediate impression was that it tasted sort of like a brownie with raisins in it. That might sound icky to chocolate purists, but to me it was better than a standard brownie. It had that same dense, decadent, concentrated fudginess, but without the unrelieved mono-sweetness. There's variation in texture from the occasional nugget of fruit and subtle hints of citrus, spice and liqueur. In other words, very yummy.

I am emphatically NOT a baker, either by skill or personality. However, this cake is very friendly to non-bakers. Instead of making a cake, think of it as making a stewed fruit sauce, adding some dry ingredients and bunging it in the oven.

It's a very forgiving recipe, as it doesn't have many "structural" elements. For my test run, I did an approximate half-recipe, which came out about 1½-inches high and somewhat torte-like. [Postscript: For Thanksgiving, I did a three-quarters recipe.]

Chocolate Fruitcake

(based on Nigella's, as published in "Feast"; her product, not mine, pictured above)

2 cups prunes (yields 1½ cups when chopped)

1½ cups raisins

1 cup dried currants

1½ sticks of butter
¾ cup dark brown sugar (Muscovado if you're really fancy)
¾ cup honey
¼ cup coffee liqueur (Kahlúa or Tia Maria)
juice and zest of 2-3 oranges
1 tsp pumpkin pie spice (cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg)
¼ cup cocoa
3 eggs
1 cup flour
¾ cup ground almonds
½ tsp baking powder
½ tsp baking soda

Preheat oven to 300° F. Carefully butter and line a round cake tin, preferably a spring-form, with parchment paper on the bottom and sides. (The full recipe, as you can see by the picture, yields a very tall cake so you will need a deep cake tin. If you only have shallower ones, split the batter into two tins or use a reduced recipe.)

In a saucepan, cook the fruit, butter, sugar, honey, coffee liqueur, orange zest and juice, spices and cocoa for 10 minutes. Take off heat and let cool for 20-30 minutes, until it's only slightly warm to the touch.

Add beaten eggs. (The stewed fruit must be cooled enough that it will not cook the eggs!) Sift the four dry ingredients together and add. Stir to combine. Pour into buttered and lined cake tin and bake for 1¾ to 2 hours, until the top is shiny and a toothpick comes out clean. Remove from tin and cool.

Nigella decorated hers with gold balls and a mound of chocolate coffee beans. I served mine plain, with a dollop of lightly-whipped cream.

Substitutions: You can pretty much sub in any dried fruits for the ones she uses. If you don't have currants (I always do because I like them in couscous), try dried blueberries, cranberries or cherries. Think twice about subbing out the prunes - I was skeptical myself but they keep the cake really moist.

My half recipe: 1 cup prunes; ¾ cup raisins; ½ cup currants; ¾ stick of butter; ½ cups brown sugar; ⅓ cup honey; one of those tiny airplane-size bottles of Kahlúa; juice and zest of one orange; ½ tsp pumpkin pie spice; 2 tbsp cocoa; 2 eggs; ½ cup flour; ⅓ cup ground almonds; ¼ tsp each baking power and baking soda (check cake after 1 hour of baking)

My three-quarters recipe: 1½ cups prunes; 1 cup raisins; ¾ cup currants; 1 stick of butter; ½ cup brown sugar; ½ cup honey; two tiny bottles of Kahlúa; juice and zest of 2 oranges; ½ tsp pumpkin pie spice; 3 tbsp cocoa; 3 eggs; ¾ cup flour; ½ cup ground almonds; ⅜ tsp each of baking powder and baking soda (check cake after 1½ hours of baking)

Top Chef Las Vegas Ep. 12

Original Air Date: November 18, 2009

1) They hyped it pretty hardcore for this episode, but the Bocuse d'Or seems to celebrate a rather passé style of cooking to me. I mean, mirrored platters?

2) OK, so Padma's only a pseudo-judge but what an awesome moment when she tasted Jen's Quickfire dish and said, "Welcome back."

3) Eli obviously didn't read Jay Rayner's rant on the Scotch egg after Art Smith made it on Masters.

4) ... And Kevin didn't watch the last season, when Carla's ill-advised sous-vide steak basically sunk her. I was super nervous for him but he pulled out the win! I'm just glad he's still in it, considering the risks he took in this challenge. I think of all the chefs, I'd most like to eat in Kevin's restaurant.

5) Were the judges being extra-picky or did four of the five (if you include the bone in Mike's salmon) really flub their proteins? It really does seem like they're holding these guys up to a much higher standard than in previous seasons.

Top Chef Las Vegas Ep. 11

Original Air Date: November 11, 2009

1) Nigella! Love, love, LOVE her. My Thanksgiving menu this year is based on her Christmas special. (More on that in the next few days.)
2) Poor, dumb Robin. Your Quickfire was a confused mess. You cooked yet more goo for the Elimination, and couldn't execute the one thing that tied it to your casino. You came a long way... because you lasted far longer than you should have. Farewell!
3) Spending 5 of only 30 minutes cooking time cleaning your station is not good decision-making. Also, it's usually a bad sign when your stuff is on fire. Mike V. somehow pulls it off anyway.
4) Shit on a Shingle?! That's what Jen chooses to make at this stage in the competition? Crazy or ballsy, you decide.
5) OK, I thought Shit on a Shingle sounded gross. Then I tried to imagine vanilla sauce on crab and asparagus. Or Eli's Elimination dish, which sounded like stuff you'd scrape off the bottom of your shoe after going to a carnival. Some funky dishes this ep.

Dintai(?) bakery

Location: I'm not 100% sure about the name, but it's on Main St about a block south of the LIRR station in Flushing

A great little Chinese bakery. You can walk out with a bulging bag of breads and pastries for $5. They're finally re-opened after weeks of renovations! Yay!

Really good man tou (a dense, fine-crumbed white roll of sorts). They last over a week if you toss them in the fridge immediately. I like to bring them back to life by slicing and pan-frying them with a little butter or oil. Though too bland to eat on their own, they're excellent for breakfast slathered with dulce de leche or your jam of choice, or on the side with a big bowl of soup.

I like their sesame sao bing but my mom (who has more a more authentic Taiwanese palate) found them too doughy.

They also make good individual sponge cakes (the tall, reverse-pyramid-shaped ones) and pineapple buns (pictured on the right).

Chop't

Occasion: Workday lunch
Location: Chop't on 51st between 6th and 7th (choptsalad.com) [Note: three other locations]
Edibles: Palm Beach salad with grilled shrimp, hearts of palm, avocado, tomato, cucumber and a simple lemon vinaigrette

Musings: Detox! After ten days of dulce de leche, empanadas, steak and wine galore, I've put myself on salad lunches this week.

I was a regular at the eastside Chop't in the Death Star days, and was glad to find a location within walking distance of my new office. My patronage here has been an exercise in trying to figure out how to maximize toppings per dollar.

Their house specials are one way to go: the Palm Beach is priced at $9.75 before tax but would cost $11.45 if you'd created it yourself à la carte (the avocado is $1.25 extra and the shrimp is a whopping $3.25). To anyone not living in NYC, the idea of $10+ for a lunch salad might seem obscene. I guess it is, but what are you going to do?

The other salad I like to get is my own creation: fried chicken, apples, grapes and cucumber, with the lemon vinaigrette. (I know, I know, it sort of violates the spirit of salad to put fried chicken in it. But it's REALLY good.)

Manolo

Occasion: Lunch in San Telmo
Location: Manolo Restaurant on Bolívar and Cochabamba in the San Telmo neighborhood of Buenos Aires
Edibles: a cold marinated eggplant dish and tortilla española for me; ham-and-cheese omelet for Elizabeth

Musings: Meh. Manolo is basically an Argentinean diner. Definitely not as nice as Time Out Buenos Aires would have you believe.

I sampled the local beer, Quilmes, which was pretty good. The eggplant needed salt but the slippery coolness of it was delightful after all the morning's running around. My tortilla española was huge, if clumsily made and overcooked.

Elizabeth's omelet, on the other hand, was so runny in the middle that a moat of uncooked egg formed at the edges of the plate. After I pointed out that it wasn't melted cheese, she freaked out, thinking she'd get food poisoning and be miserable on the flight home. (Thankfully, she was okay.)

I was a little grumpy that they said they had free WiFi, but it didn't work. I had to bum a password from a guy staying at the hostel next door. Ahh, the kindness of strangers...

[Whew! Finally caught up on Argentina posts.]

El Viejo Almacén

Occasion: The dinner part of a tango show package
Location: El Viejo Almacén on the corner of Balcarce and Independencia in the San Telmo neighborhood of Buenos Aires (viejo-almacen.com.ar)
Edibles: I had the empanadas, followed by a fish dish and cake for dessert; Elizabeth had salad, ravioli and fruit salad

Musings: A COLOSSAL waste of time and money. I'm actually still angry that this is where we spent our last night in Buenos Aires. Grrrr. Hate.

If you find yourself in B.A. and feel that you simply must see a tango show*, please do NOT get the dinner package. You will be tempted to do so because of the awkward scheduling: the show starts at 10:00, around the same time Argentineans eat dinner. (Restaurants are generally still prepping for the start of service at 8:00.) But trust me, you will be able to find something better than the in-house prix fixe.

In quality and preparation, the food was about the level of airplane food, listless and perfunctory. Elizabeth succinctly described it as "disgusting." She picked at her salad, which featured an inexplicable selection of canned vegetables, and only ate three out of her five ravioli. My empanadas were mass-produced, microwaved travesties. Just criminal, consider the fantastic and reasonably-priced food otherwise available in the city.

The piss-poor wine that they served (included in the prix fixe) was so cheap that they were willing to open two bottles for us, white for me, red for Elizabeth. At $50 a head, you'd think they could spring for some decent local wine - for example, on our wine tour we tasted an excellent sauvignon blanc that we were told retailed for under $4 a bottle.

Bottom line: Blechh.

[*Note: The tango show itself - another $50 per person - was amateurish and cheesy. The dancers barely had space to move around on the tiny stage and the show contained about a 3:1 ratio of filler to actual dancing. What a racket.]

Finca Adalgisa

Occasion: A quiet dinner at our boutique hotel
Location: Finca Adalgisa in Mendoza (fincaadalgisa.com.ar)
Edibles: informal tapas dinner - spicy artichoke hearts; goat cheese sampler; jamón; lots of bread and house wine

Musings: We stayed at two boutique hotels in Mendoza, Lares de Chacras and Finca Adalgisa. They were about five minutes apart, in a neighborhood that was basically a nice suburb. Of the two, I liked Lares de Chacras better - bigger, more charming room and cheaper rates - but Elizabeth liked Finca Adalgisa better for the atmosphere and food.

Finca Adalgisa is ostensibly on a vineyard, but that "vineyard" is a bunch of grapevines in the house's backyard. They make some table wine once every few years but mostly sell their grapes to real winemakers. While I enjoyed our stay, I thought their advertising bordered on fraudulent.

They do have a very lovely Greek-influenced sunroom where we spent a lazy evening nibbling on simple tapas and playing Scrabble (with a letter distribution based on Spanish - tricky). [Coincidentally, we ran into some guys who had been on the ferry with us to Colónia. They contribued their two cents on some disputed Scrabble words, but didn't help us much as they were split themselves. Later, I was vindicated by Merriam-Webster online.]

O. Fournier Winery

Occasion: Wine tour lunch
Location: O. Fournier winery in Mendoza (ofournier.com)
Edibles: crispy pastry over caper cream; sliced, deep-fried eggplant with croutons and a tomato sauce; choice of lemon risotto with ginger and cherry tomatoes or steak with blue cheese; orange sorbet and a molten chocolate cake with coffee ice-cream and almond foam for dessert; and, of course, a selection of O. Fournier's wines to pair

Musings: After touring the Salentein and Andeluna wineries, the finale of our Ampora wine tour was lunch at O. Fournier. O. Fournier is a modern and high tech winery, but its owners also place a high premium on aesthetics: the main building (first picture) has won awards for its architecture, and the dining room (pictured above) was designed to offer a stunning panorama while you eat.

The lunch we had was extravagant and absolutely up to the high standards of the winery and the surroundings! While the style of the food was a little gimicky and molecular-gastronomic for my taste, I greatly enjoyed the lunch and we were all completely stuffed when we were done.

You could really tell that the head chef (who I believe is the owner's wife) was intellectually curious about food and prepared everything that came out of the kitchen with love and care. Our tour guide Myfanwy (Welsh, pronounced mee-van-wee - it gave me problems all day) asked for a simple salad instead of the offered mains and got an artistically-arranged, colorful plate of veggies with all manner of flourishes and garnishes.

I must point out that the steak was the superior main course option, as evidenced by the fact that the steak-eaters (myself included, naturally) trounced the risotto-eaters in cleaning their plates!

Las Negras

Occasion: Dinner on our first night in wine country
Location: Las Negras in Mendoza (lasnegrasrestaurant.com.ar - as listed on their business card, but the site was down when I tried it)
Edibles: I had three apps for my meal - the empanadas, followed by octopus, and beef carpaccio; Elizabeth had the chicken rollatini

Musings: A swanky but intimate restaurant within walking distance of our hotel. (It's a strange walk, though. Mendoza doesn't have many sidewalks so you're either on the side of the road like a hitchhiker or on the gravel shoulder, alarmingly close to the deep irrigation ditches.)

By this time in the trip, we were both getting a little glutted from our indulgent vacation meals. Instead of steak, I went with the carpaccio. (My version of light eating.)  They say the better the ingredients, the less you have to do to them. By this measure, Argentinean beef proves its mettle by being superb without any cooking at all. Subtle, buttery and coolly unctuous, I could have eaten this dish all day.

The other dishes were less exciting. They make their empanadas with a puff pastry, which I found too greasy. The empanadas also came out room temperature on the outside but burning hot in the middle, which made me suspect that they had been microwaved. Elizabeth's rollatini was slightly dry, but that's a pretty endemic problem with that technique.

The wine was cheap and excellent, no less than we expected based on the location.

Enfundá La Mandolina

Occasion: Dinner with Elizabeth
Location: Enfundá La Mandolina on Salguero in the Palermo neighborhood of Buenos Aires
Edibles: I had the mixed seafood plate (battered and deep-fried white fish, clams and baby octopus), followed by steak; Elizabeth had the pan relleno ("stuffed bread" with tomatoes and cheese), then a baked casserole dish I forget the name of

Musings: We tried this place on the recommendation of a guy who worked at our hotel. He told us it was "very authentic" and once there, I agreed. The place is low-key, dim and shabby-chic, and (major plus) had zero tourists other than us as far as I could tell. The downside is that the rather complicated menu is only in Spanish and the waiter's English was a bit spotty. However, he was very friendly, tried really hard to help us understand the dishes, and never gave off any hint of impatience.

I liked my app - the waiter's rec - a lot. The fish, in particular, was wonderful - piping hot, moist and flaky. The three dips that came with the dish were all distinct from each other and all very tasty. My steak was just average, by Argentinean standards. (Here three days and I'm already totally spoiled!) Elizabeth's pan relleno was sort of like a calzone, but one made with great market-fresh ingredients, and the portion was big enough to serve as a main.

While our dinner was very good, I had the feeling that there were really amazing dishes to be had if you could read the Spanish menu in detail or knew more about South American cuisine than I do. If I'd had a second chance to go, I would have just walked around the restaurant, shamelessly looking at other tables' food and ordered by pointing.

El Drugstore

Occasion: Lunch in Colónia del Sacramento
Location: El Drugstore, just off the Plaza de Armas in Colónia, Uruguay
Edibles: I had garlic shrimp and a ham-and-cheese omelet; Elizabeth had the chicken breast with roasted pumpkin

Musings: Led astray by another bad recommendation. Now, I don't take restaurant recs from just anyone, but the guy who suggested this place to us seemed to have solid credentials: 1) he lived in Tribeca for a few years; 2) he now lives in San Diego; and 3) we met him at Casa Felix. When he learned about our upcoming daytrip, he warned us about the 1-hour time difference between Buenos Aires and Colónia, which caused him and his friend to miss the ferry. They spent the majority of their 3-hour wait for the next ferry at El Drugstore. "The name is cheesy," he said, "but the food is great."

What I'd like to know is, what did this guy order?

My overall impression was of tourist trap mediocrity. The food took forever to come. When it did, my shrimp had charred bits, but strangely so - as if the pan hadn't been washed in ages, or the chef burned the garlic REALLY badly and then threw the shrimp in anyway. Elizabeth's chicken was pretty average and the pumpkin was cold and under-seasoned. The omelet was the best of the three items; it was monstrously huge and stuffed full of ham and cheese. Between the two of us, Elizabeth and I only finished about half. (I was very tempted to give the rest to a very cute and earnest-looking stray dog that was hanging around.)

Colónia seemed pretty touristy in its entirety so I don't know that the other choices were much better. But if you find yourself there, try your luck somewhere else; this place is a definite loser in my book.

Mmmm... dulce de leche

Dulce de leche, or caramelized milk, is a real wonder. Strongly reminiscent of caramel sauce, dulce de leche has all the rich gooeyness of its sister confection, but a more complex flavor and sweetness. (Caramel owes all of its sweetness to sucrose, or table sugar, while dulce de leche takes advantage of the native lactose in milk.)

Put it on some toast and you've got yourself a breakfast of champions. YUM!!!


Dulce de Leche
(based on Alton's recipe - a video clip from Good Eats with the demo is available here)

1 quart milk
1 to 1½ cups sugar (I like it with just 1 cup; Alton's original recipe calls for 1½)
½ tsp baking soda
1 vanilla bean or ¼ tsp vanilla extract (not both)

Add the sugar to the milk and, while warming slowly, stir until all the sugar is dissolved. When the milk is just below a simmer, add the baking soda. If you're using a vanilla bean, split it and add it now. Keep the milk at a bare simmer and cook, uncovered, for 1 hour. Stir occasionally. It will gradually start to darken in color.

(You will need to fiddle a bit to find the right stove setting. Be careful not to let it bubble over - you'd be surprised how easily it can happen once the baking soda is in, even at low temp. I didn't keep a close enough eye on my first batch and the result was edible, but had a grainy texture. Also, don't worry about the foam that forms on top. Try to leave it as undisturbed as possible when you stir. If it really bothers you, you can skim it off.)

One hour in, remove the vanilla bean. Continue to simmer and stir for another 1½ to 2 hours, until the mixture had reduced to a quarter of its original volume. It should be a dark caramel color. If you're using vanilla extract, add it now and cook for just a few minutes to incorporate. Strain.

The dulce de leche is thin in the pot but will thicken as it cools. Refrigerated, it will keep for about a month. As Alton says, "it will keep longer than it lasts, if you know what I mean."

Serving suggestions: The possibilities are practically endless. Off the top of my head, it would be great with Greek yogurt or cottage cheese. As a dip for sliced fresh fruit and biscotti. The Argentineans use it to fill cookies called alfajores. You can use it to make homemade dulce de leche ice-cream, or as a topping for store-bought ice-cream. Make a trifle with pound cake and whipped cream, maybe some toasted sliced almonds. Fill crêpes. The sky's the limit!

Bar Uriarte

Occasion: Dinner with Elizabeth
Location: Bar Uriarte on Uriarte in the Palermo neighborhood of Buenos Aires (baruriarte.com.ar)
Edibles: burrata cheese with confit tomato app, followed by the skirt steak; Elizabeth had the white polenta and risotto croquettes (two separate dishes) to start and ordered the zucchini salad for her main but got a spinach one with apples, radish coins and avocado instead

Musings: A modern and trendy place with a Meatpacking sort of vibe.

The meal started off with a great selection of breads. Which we wolfed down, as it was 10:00pm. New Yorkers think they eat late, but they have nothing on Argentineans. As we were leaving, at well past 11:00, several tables were just sitting down to eat.

The first course was a home-run - Elizabeth loved her polenta and I practically swooned over my burrata, fresh, plump and serenely simple. It makes a certain amount of sense that a country so famous for its steak would also have really good dairy. The mains were a bit anticlimactic. There was a mix-up with Elizabeth's salad but she decided to just keep the one that came. My skirt steak was good, but got increasingly rubbery as it cooled.

Still, we continue to be impressed with the calibre of Buenos Aires' restaurants.