Date Night

"Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese." `Gilbert K. Chesterton

Sunday dawned clear and crisp. By the time I arose, the Lone Ranger had swept away the previous night's detritus and there was very little for me to do except drink my coffee and listen to the birds call. We did have this one meaningful exchange, however:

Lone Ranger: What do you want for breakfast? Tonto: Scrambled eggs on toast. Lone Ranger: Okay.

Breakfast made to order.

The guy is a treasure, I'm tellin' ya.

It was a day for doing very little and doing it expertly. The garden plants did managed to get watered and the beer & wine bottles cleared to the recycling bin. The silver was safely locked away and the china dutifully stacked in the beautiful inherited hutch. There was even a Home Depot run for paint samples and a DVD from the Incredible Shrinking Blockbuster.

Late in day, with growling tummies and leftovers aplenty, we gorged a second time on pot roast and vegetables sopped in rich thick gravy. But we weren't done there. With some serious down time, we spoiled ourselves with the alchemy of cheese and the genius that is Steve Carell and Tina Fey.

Cheese Fondue - updated from Peyton's Godmother Joan Brown

½ lb Swiss cheese, grated ½ lb Gruyère cheese, grate 3 tsp flour 2 cloves garlic 1 cup dry white wine ½ tsp salt ¼ tsp pepper pinch nutmeg

Toss grated cheese with flour. Rub chafing dish and mixing spoon with garlic. Add wine to dish and heat up. Add cheese, stirring until melted. Stir in seasonings. Serve with cubed Italian bread.

Here's the thing about rubbing garlic on stuff: it's bunk. Caesar salad dressing recipes call for the same technique. Unless it's toasty French baguettes however, don't bother. The Lone Ranger (a trained professional, mind you) scoffs at the practice. Subtlety is not a forte he cultivates; nor do I. Instead, finely chop the garlic and add it to the other ingredients, it'll bring out a nice garlicky flavor, and nobody who matters will ever notice the switch you pulled.

© 20th Century Fox

For our own Date Night, we dispensed with all the customary dining protocols and sat in the living room hunched over the coffee table, dipping day-old Italian bread into our bubbling cauldron of cheesy goodness. The Lone Ranger even managed to snooze through part of the movie. I put him to bed as the credits rolled. He's coming to NYC this weekend for a change. What in the world am I gonna serve him?

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

Cookin' With Gas

Is it a Man thing, or does everyone get an insatiable craving for red meat every now and again? An itch they just can't scratch? Whatever. Since Muffy brought her second-oldest son with her, there was no avoiding it. Beef, medium-rare, would be on the menu. Jaime's eyes lit up like Roman candles when he heard the word porterhouse. Another satisfied customer in the offing!

This night's dishes came from "Screen Doors and Sweet Tea - Recipes and Tales from a Southern Cook", by Martha Hall Foose. I stumbled upon this gem while perusing the stacks at the New York Botanical Garden gift shop. The book manager there knows me by face, name and credit card number. I've dropped more coin on cookbooks there than in Tivoli Fountain. I am surely his favorite, most loyal patron. He's got a great knack for what's gonna sell, and I simply cannot help myself.

Ms. Foose is the executive chef at the Viking Cooking School (yes, THAT Viking). She earned points on that fact alone. Her book is jam-packed with upgraded and tantalizing recipes from the American South. I had a laundry list of possibilities from entrées to desserts and had a one hell of a time winnowing them down to a single dinner. Thank goodness for cravings, otherwise there was no way to decide between steak and Paper Sack Catfish. And I actually had to have two side dishes, or I'd still be vacillating between them all.

Cheese Grits - from Screen Doors and Sweet Tea

¾ cup whole milk ½ Tbsp unsalted butter 1 garlic clove, minced ¼ tsp salt ½ cup quick-cooking grits 4 oz sharp Cheddar cheese, grated ½ tsp hot pepper sauce ¼ tsp freshly ground black pepper 1 large egg hot paprika

Preheat oven to 325°F. Butter a shallow 1-quart baking dish.

In a medium saucepan over medium-high heat, combine half the milk, a half-cup of water, the butter, garlic and salt. Bring to a rolling boil. Slowly whisk in the grits. Whisk continuously for a minute, until no lumps remain. Reduce the heat, cover and simmer for 5 minutes. Remove from the heat and stir in the cheese.

In a mixing bowl, whisk together the remaining milk, hot sauce, pepper and egg. Gradually add the hot grits, stirring to combine. Pour the grits into the prepared baking dish and sprinkle with paprika.

Bake for 45 minutes, until puffy around the edges and a knife inserted into the center comes out clean.

Cover baking dish and keep warm until serving.

Blue Cheese Porterhouse - from Screen Doors and Sweet Tea

3 1½ lb porterhouse steaks 3 garlic cloves, minced 3 tsp olive oil Salt Coarsely ground black pepper 6 tsp minced shallot 3 tsp finely chopped parsley 1½ tsp lemon zest 8 Tbsp (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened 6 oz blue cheese, crumbled

After the grits come out of the oven, put a rack in the oven so that it is 4 inches from the heat source. Put a broiler pan on the rack and preheat the broiler.

Brush steaks with olive oil, rub all over with minced garlic and season generously with salt and pepper on both sides.

Place the steaks on the very hot broiler pan. Broil for 5 minutes. Carefully flip the steaks. Broil for 3 minutes for medium-rare.

Remove the steaks from the pan and place on a trenched cutting board. Let the steaks rest, tented with foil, for 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, in a small bowl, combine the shallot, parsley, lemon zest, butter, blue cheese and a sprinkle of salt.

Slice the steaks and serve with a dollop of blue cheese topping.

Crumb Cauliflower - from Screen Doors and Sweet Tea

1 small head cauliflower, trimmed and separated into florets ½ cup olive oil 2 garlic cloves, minced ½ cup dry bread  crumbs 2 Tbsp chopped parsley 1 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil 1 Tbsp grated Parmesan cheese Salt and freshly ground black pepper

In a Dutch oven over medium-high heat, sear cauliflower in olive oil for 2 minutes. Toss to coat with oil, then cover and cook for 5 more minutes.

In a mixing bowl, combine garlic, bread crumbs, parsley and Parmesan cheese. Sprinkle mixture over cauliflower and season with salt and pepper. Finish off vegetables in a very hot broiler.

Logistics were key in getting this meal to the table in a coordinated fashion. While the grits baked, there was plenty of time to prep the steaks, cauliflower and even a pie crust! While the steaks broiled, the cauliflower caramelized. As the meat rested, the florets got a crunchy topping in the already-hot broiler. And just like that, enthusiastic feasting began anew. It was no accident that cheese occupied a supporting roll in every dish. No, I purposefully included it... because I could.

To demonstrate just how completely unhinged I become on the subject of cheese, here's another Top-40 ditty my buddy Matty O'Food and I penned and used to sing on road trips up and down the coast of California. It is sung to the tune of "Mr. Sandman", as recorded by the Chordettes in 1954.

Mr. Satan! Bring me some cheese. (bung, bung, bung, bung) Make it a Gouda or Brie if you please! Give me two wedges of Jarlsberg and Stilton, That Limburger smells like wet socks a'wiltin'! I said, Satan! I want some more. Sliced Jack and Cheddar on Ritz by the score. So I'll shout until I wheeze, Mr. Satan bring me some cheese! (Jazz hands!!!!)

Don't say you weren't warned. Now would be a good time to describe dessert, I think:

Lemon Icebox Pie

1½ cups graham cracker crumbs ¼ cup granulated sugar ½ tsp ground cinnamon ½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted 2 (14-ounce) cans sweetened condensed milk 4 large egg yolks 1 tsp grated lemon zest ½ cup fresh lemon juice 2 cups heavy cream 6 tablespoons confectioners' sugar ¼ tsp vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350°F.

In a medium bowl, combine the graham cracker crumbs, granulated sugar, cinnamon and melted butter. Pat into a 9-inch deep-dish pie pan and bake for 6 to 8 minutes, or until slightly browned. Remove to a wire rack to cool.

Meanwhile, in a large bowl, whisk together the condensed milk, yolks, lemon zest and lemon juice. Pour the lemon filling into the cooled crust. Bake for 10 minutes, until set. Cool on a rack. Chill the pie for at least 30 minutes.

When ready to serve the pie, whip the cream with the confectioners' sugar and vanilla until stiff peaks form. Spread the whipped cream on top of the pie and serve.

I have to admit, and Muffy agreed, this was one time where following the recipe resulted in - mainly - a learning experience. It was our considered opinion that there was way too much butter in the crust (it was so brittle after chilling), too much sugar in the custard (cut by at least a third), and not nearly enough lemony goodness (amp up the lemon zest). Still, a so-so dessert is better than no dessert at all. And it took hardly any effort to prepare. Wanna bet a revised version travels up to Maine with us next summer?

So, my goal to pamper Miss Muffy went off flawlessly. I managed to keep her out of the kitchen for the most part (except when I couldn't), and afforded her the luxury of kicking back with a book or her needlepoint while someone else sweated what to cook for dinner. In the end, I got just as much - if not more - out of the venture as she. Can't wait for the repeat!

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

1. 2. 3.

Five championships down, four to go. It's been kinda fun coming up with something quick to eat and worthy of a blog post all at the same time. If not for You Gonna Finish That?, I'd be eating cereal or PB&Js, and who wants to read about that? But here's something I found in a British food magazine while abroad this summer. More of a brunch item, or an h'or d'oeuvre, but it falls into the cherished cheese category, so what the heck. The hardest part of the recipe was the conversion from metric to imperial units.

Bake herb Ricotta - adapted from Waitrose Food Illustrated

16 oz Ricotta cheese, drained ¼-cup Grana Padana cheese, finely grated 2 Eggs 1½ Tbsp dried basil Olive oil 1 whole garlic clove Whole grain or sourdough bread

Beat. Spread. Bake.

In a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, beat the cheeses, eggs and basil to combine. Spread into a greased loaf pan or mold and bake in a 375° pre-heated oven for 30-35 minutes, or until the cheese rises a bit and begins to brown. Run a knife around the cheese to loosen and release cheese onto a platter. Serve on toasted sourdough drizzled with a little olive oil and rubbed with garlic cloves.

I never get to use my stand mixer. It usually spends its days as bulky kitchen decor, but I got it at a very good price, so don't really mind. I was thrilled to take it out for a spin. The baked Ricotta was so easy, it feels like cheating to write about it. I tossed a little leftover mesclun and avocado on the side, and I seem to be on a bit of a roasted tomato kick. But hey, I just go with the flow here. There's obviously some "higher power" in charge.

I wonder how this spread might be received on Chebeague next summer. We already have a baked brie appetizer. Is there room for another cheese dish at one of our cocktail hours? What am I saying! I'll run it by Muffy this winter to see if it passes muster. If FDA restrictions are less stringent around your house, pull this one out at the next grown up gathering.

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

"One cannot trust people whose cuisine is so bad." - Jacques Chirac

"I'll bet what motivated the British to colonize so much of the world is that they were just looking for a decent meal." - Martha Harrison. "Before the Sunday roast is placed in the oven the vegetables are put on to boil." - Anonymous How long have British food jokes been around? Since the first World War? That's nearly a 100 years. It's no wonder the fallacy is so hard to dispel. But I'm happy to report that the State of Food in the United Kingdom is healthy, strong and tasty. For the past decade or so there's been a resurgence in demand for quality products. The appetite is growing for local produce. Britain produces more regional cheeses than France. It has 600 varieties of apples. One hundred twenty-five species of fish and shellfish live in its waters. Statistics like that can make for a seriously impressive menu. With the help of a good friend, a map, and a London Travelcard, I set out to discover what all the fuss was about.

My buddy J-Mac had been talking about my upcoming visit for months. I think he was more excited about my trip than I was. He'd been extolling the virtues of the new British cookery and couldn't wait to show off some his finds. After a walk around the financial district and a proper pint of ale (maybe it was two), I met him at Liverpool Station for the short walk to Hawksmoor.

J-Mac is something of a fixture at Hawksmoor. Pete, the fiendish bartender not only knows him by name, but by his preferred cocktail. Pete did his level best to get us shit-faced throughout dinner. Like me, J-Mac is a firm believer of sitting at the bar, so Pete had every opportunity to ply us with his newest concoctions. Manager, Will Beckett, was one of the coolest guys. He's the kind of restaurateur who gets it. His credo is: keep things simple, send the customer on his way fat & happy, and to serve the public is a noble calling. From my understanding, he's also quite the beer connoisseur. Once he figured out I wrote a food blog back in the States, he couldn't have been more accommodating or forthcoming. I liked him a lot.

Hawksmoor - 157 Commercial Street, London E1 6BJ, is first and foremost a steakhouse in the oldest sense of the word. Yorkshire Longhorn beef is simply cooked on a charcoal grill. The meat is some of the best you'll ever have. The service is flawless. Brits understand hospitality in a way most of their American counterparts find demeaning. They are attentive, uncomplaining and ever ready to oblige. They have unfairly (or wholly the opposite, really) raised the bar for restaurants here at home.

Next morning, and on my own again, I rode a double-decker bus into the heart of London getting off at Piccadilly Circus, not as cliché as it sounds. Five major roads converge at Piccadilly. In 1819 King George IV commissioned John Nash to create a junction that would connect Carlton House with Regent's Park. Nash envisioned a circus (derived from the Latin word meaning circle, and having nothing whatsoever to do with lion taming or bearded ladies) roundabout for the flow of carriage traffic. You can walk just about anywhere from Piccadilly.

There is one place I go without fail on any trip to London, the National Portrait Gallery. It is home to Henry VIII, Elizabeth I and just about every other British monarch and noble since the Norman invasion. There is also some lovely portraiture of modern day notables. Alessandro Raho has a massive painting of Dame Judith Dench hanging in one of the lower galleries. He has, I think, brilliantly captured Ms. Dench.  Gay Icons was currently showing when I arrived at the gallery. Ten prominent gay figures were asked to select six historic and modern icons in their own lives. The submissions were inspired and moving. I caught myself misty-eyed on several occasions.

Revived culturally and fueled with another proper ale, it was time to continue my investigative gastronomic reporting. Next stop, Neal's Yard Dairy for all things cheese.

Neal's Yard is a company after my own heart. These folks are excited by cheese. From humble beginnings in the 1980s, they've grown conscientiously, never losing the heart of their business model, matching the tastes of consumers with cheeses made regionally and by traditional methods. They buy cheeses from farms all over the British Isles. They have two shops in London and also ship to restaurants and stores all over the world.

There are no poems written about cheese. No flowery prose, nor devoted sonnets. My closest friend, surfing & golf partner and fellow foodie Matty O'Food and I came up with some lines of our own one summer. We put them to the melody of "Girls" by the Beastie Boys:

Cheese! And all I really want is Cheese! And in the morning it's Cheese! Two at a time it's just Cheese! I love the way that it melts... It goes on in that vein for several verses. Calculated silliness; the best kind.

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

My Favorite Things

As you know, I am a simple sort of man. Every weekday morning, I rise early, put on a pot of coffee, peruse the headlines online and listen to NPR. An hour later, I make some breakfast, shower, dress and head out the door. Routines like this will help me when aggressive senility ultimate takes me down. In the mean time, they're comforting. They comfort me. The only time the stove gets lit before 5pm is if I'm having oatmeal. Otherwise, straightforwardness and convenience are at the controls. I have two favorite breakfast customs. This is my 2nd favorite:

English muffin Frenchies (the Brits will love that one)

Whole wheat English muffins Fresh organic tomatoes, sliced La Vache Qui Rit® cheese Salt & freshly ground pepper Scalding hot coffee

I don't remember when I discovered La Vache Qui Rit. It seems to me I've been eating it forever, but I know that to be impossible. Whatever the case, it's just delicious and brilliantly packaged with little individually wrapped wedges in a cool little cardboard round. While I wasn't looking, some ad executive decided that the American audience was too stupid or lazy to figure out that la vache qui rit translates into "laughing cow", so marketing in the U.S. goes by the English moniker. I hate that. Give us a little more credit, why don't you. I think we can figure out that a cheese imported from France will probably have French words. Extrapolating from there, we just may be capable of deducing that they might have something to do with the happy cow on the label. Sorry. Sarcasm is another of my AM routines.

Anyway, cheese and salty tomato on toasted bread. Someone could market that. Give it a snappy (American sounding) name and make a million bucks. Or, you could go out an make some of your own, whether pressed for time in the morning or not.

My absolute favorite breakfast tradition? Two soft-boiled eggs served in little porcelain cups, with lots and lots of buttered sourdough toast for dipping in the yolks, all eaten out-of-doors under a beautiful California summer sun with the San Francisco Chronicle spilling onto the ground all around me. Like I said, simple pleasures!

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food

Mac Fusilli-N-Cheese

Before moving along to our favorite topic food, and without getting too sanctimonious, I don't think it inappropriate to remind you, my gentle readers, why we have a Memorial Day weekend in the first place. Memorial Day was originally conceived to venerate Union soldiers killed during the American Civil War. Back then it was known as Decoration Day. After WWI, the commemoration was expanded to recognize American casualties of any war or military action. Traditionally, flags are flown at half-staff until noon, graves at national cemeteries are marked with American flags, and there is a moment of remembrance at 3:00pm local time. These days, Memorial Day weekend marks the beginning of summer and is celebrated with picnics, barbecues and the Indy 500. But pockets of sober reflection still survive. I was in the town of Orient, Long Island one Memorial Day weekend when the villagers held a simple parade and placed a wreath at the foot of a monument commemorating  their fallen sons and daughters. It was the most modest of ceremonies I had ever witnessed, and it humbled me to my core. These days - in my dotage - I take time to demonstrate my gratitude for our liberties and to the young men and women who fight to protect them, whether with beers for sailors at Yankee Stadium during Fleet Week (I love a man in a uniform!), or sitting at attention at the end of The News Hour broadcast when they list the dead in Iraq and Afghanistan. I hope never again to take their sacrifice for granted.

But one cannot remain morose and depressing all day; that's what Republicans are always accusing Democrats of doing. Life is for the living and to truly honor the ultimate sacrifice, one must live to the fullest. That means lots of America's favorite side dishes to go with all those hot dogs, hamburgers and barbecued chicken. And what's more American than macaroni and cheese? As American as French fries!

Baked Mac-N-Cheese

1 lb pasta noodle 3 slices day-old bread 4 Tbsp unsalted butter 2 Tbsp Parmesan cheese (grated) 2 Tbsp all purpose flour 2 cans evaporated milk ¼ tsp dry mustard ½ tsp grated nutmeg ½ tsp salt 2 cups sharp cheddar cheese (grated) ¾ cup Monterey jack cheese (grated) ¾ cup Gruyère cheese (grated)

Start by cooking pasta in plenty of boiling salted water. I didn't have macaroni, so substituted fusilli pasta. I liked the texture even better, but there will always be some purist nut job out there who thinks I'm a heretic. So be it. Cook the pasta to just al dente, but no further. You want the noodles slightly undercooked, as they will continue to soften with the cheese sauce in the oven.

Next make a topping for the mac-n-cheese by chopping bread (I used day-old sourdough), 2 Tbsp melted butter and two heaping Tbsp of grated Parmesan cheese in a food processor. Set the mixture aside.

Reserve about ½ cup of pasta water before draining and rinsing the cooked pasta. The excess starch on the pasta will gum up the finished dish, so rinse away, ignoring the wails of your Italian grandmothers. In the same pot as the pasta boiled, start a roux with 2 Tbsp of flour in the remaining 2 Tbsp of melted butter. Cook for a couple of minutes to get rid of the "raw" taste of the flour. Gradually whisk in two cans of evaporated milk and bring to a simmer. Add the hot sauce (I put in six heavy dashes for medium heat) and spices, and slowly stir in the grated cheeses, melting completely. Add the drained pasta and a little of the reserved pasta water. You're looking for a fluid, but not runny consistency to your macaroni.

Pour the pasta/cheese mixture into a 9x13 baking dish and top with the bread crumbs. Bake for 25 minutes in a pre-heated 350° oven. Allow to cool for at least 20 minutes once the dish is removed from the oven. This will allow the mac-n-cheese to set and prevent you from blistering the roof of your mouth when you shovel noodles and cheese into it.

Using multiple cheeses adds complexity to my mac-n-cheese. There are different cheeses for everyone's tastes. I like the tanginess of Gruyère over American cheese. You might like a milder Swiss cheese, Havarti or even Jarlsberg. It's all up to you. Play with your recipes until you discover something you really like, and then start a blog to brag about it.

Summer is officially here with lots of outdoor eating and one dish meals. Enjoy new and old family favorites this season and check back here often for ideas and tips.

Thanks for taking the time - Blog O. Food