Recipe corner: Baked buffalo chicken wings

Chicken wings, popcorn and burgers consumed in front of an American football game (which I find utterly incomprehensible by the way, is that the idea?) may not sound particularly romantic but it was how we chose to celebrate our Valentine's Day nonetheless.  Ever since our New York trip in December 2013, certain items of Americana have become synonymous with...well, love, laughter and celebration.

I don't suppose that the buffalo wings we ate in the Third Avenue Alehouse were baked, so this recipe can't be said to be a true replica, however I thought that my wings, originally from Good Food magazine, were delicious and feel a lot more sinful than they actually are.  I can imagine doing these for supper with some salad, creamy dressing and crusty bread.  You could (in fact, you should) fashion some sort of blue cheese dip to go with them, but since I have yet to figure out how to make that anything less than a gazillion points I shall hold off blogging that one for now.

Ingredients

400g (about 4 large) chicken wings, halved at the joint

For the marinade:

2 garlic cloves, crushed
1 tbsp olive oil
1.5 tbsp cider vinegar
0.5 tbsp smoked paprika
0.5 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1 tsp salt
1 tsp fennel seeds
1 tbsp Tobasco sauce
1.5 tbsp clear honey

Serves 2, 8 pro points per portion

Combine the marinade ingredients together in a large bowl, adding additional seasoning to taste.  Add the chicken wings, toss well, and then leave, covered with cling film in the fridge - a few hours will do but overnight is optimum.

When ready to bake, preheat the oven to 180 (160 fan).  Line a large baking tray or roasting tin with tin foil or else you will be scrubbing at baked on Buffalo sauce for weeks.  Lightly spray the foil with oil to prevent any sticking.

Use a slotted spoon to remove the wings from the marinade, setting the bowl aside for the time being.  Bake for 30 minutes in the preheated oven.  After this time, drain off any excess oil that has accumulated and then pour the reserved marinade over the chicken, tossing well to coat.  Turn the oven up to 200 (180 fan).

Replace the wings in the oven and bake for a further 30 minutes, after which time the marinade should be mostly evaporated and the wings covered with a spicy, sticky glaze.  Try to avoid eating straight away as you will probably burn your chin.

How to make the perfect Reuben sandwich

Since last December, it has been rare to find our freezer without several portions of D's home made corned beef.  And one of our absolute favourite ways to eat corned beef is in a classic American deli sandwich, a Reuben.

We had Reubens at Katz's deli when we were in New York earlier this year, but I think mine is better because, as delicious as Katz's beef was, the quantity served in the sandwich was so large as to overwhelm the other component parts - it just wasn't properly balanced.  For me, the joy of this sandwich is the way in which all the ingredients work together.  I like a variety of textures as well, hence leaving the bread under the cheese layer untoasted.

I think traditionally this would be on rye bread, but I find the really dark German style rye bread a bit too intense, so prefer to opt for a crusty loaf, a sourdough if possible.  If you are so clever as to make your own sourdough (one day I will get around to experimenting with that...) then use that.

Serve this with a big dill pickle on the side.

Ingredients

4 slices of bread (see above)
100g corned beef, thinly sliced
50g Gruyere cheese, grated
4 tbsp sauerkraut

For the Russian mayonaise:
2 tbsp full fat mayonnaise
Tsp Dijon mustard
Tsp tomato puree
Tsp chopped fresh (or freeze dried) dill
Pinch of dried chilli flakes

Makes 2 sandwiches, 16 pro points each

Preheat your grill for bread toasting purposes.

Combine the ingredients for the mayonnaise and set aside.  You could, of course, use a reduced fat mayo if you were looking to shave some points off.

Toast the bread on one side until lightly golden.  In our beast of a grill, this takes about ten seconds.

Flip the bread slices, and on two of them, divide up the grated cheese.  Replace under the grill and cook until the naked bread is lightly toasted and the cheese is molten and bubbling.

Spread the mayonnaise on the naked bread slice, and then layer on the sliced meat and the sauerkraut.  Top with the melted cheese slice (cheese side down).

Serve with a napkin (this is a juicy devil) and a large dill pickle on the side.

Foodie Abroad: Spuntino's

I was already fairly sure that I liked Russell Norman, media styled “King of Soho Dining”.  But then I saw him on the BBC series “The Restaurant Man”, dispensing advice to aspiring restaurateurs, and this became a certainty.  He was witty and wise, had a very snazzy line in cardigans and (most importantly) was often to be seen writing busily in an elegant little notebook – any man with a proper appreciation for good stationery is a man that I wish to know.

 

This would still not be enough to induce with me to part with hard earned cash to eat in one of his venues were it not for the fact that they are very good indeed.  Russell Norman has a habit of creating restaurants that you really, really want to eat in.  They are trendy but not painfully so, stylised but with the substance to back the style up and genuinely appetising sounding menus which of course is the most important aspect of any restaurant.  Concept alone will not fill one’s boots.

 

We had already been to the original Polpo and to Mishkin’s and on Saturday we went to sniff out Spuntino’s – perhaps still on the tail end of our New York kick (it describes itself as a Brooklyn diner).  Fabulous stuff.  Not being particularly trendy we were more than happy to skip the queue and take one of the seats away from the bar area which meant that, despite the no booking policy, we had very little wait.  And waiting, to be honest, would have been no great hardship considering the excellent cocktails that the cheery bar staff were quite happy to hand you while you stood gazing longingly over the shoulders of fellow diners.  Let me tell you, the rhubarb sour was a thing of absolute beauty (always assuming that you like rhubarb and sour drinks – which we do). 

 

Drinks!

Food wise – Spuntino’s serves little dishes for sharing (or not) ranging from a selection of sliders (we tried all four) to some fresh looking salad plates (which we did not get around to ordering – D curled his lip at the thought, but I want to go back and check some of them out).  The truffled egg toast, which seems to have become something of a signature dish, was so amazingly good that we had to order a second one.  Nutty cheese, thick, sweet toast, a pool of golden yolk quivering in the centre, and that unmistakeable whiff of forest floor – it was just fantastically good, and I’d love to have a go at recreating it at home.

 

Toast!

 

Sliders!



I don’t know whether I was still a bit full from the day before, but I found myself struggling earlier on than I would have liked and so a disturbingly large proportion of the menu remained unsampled (I even turned down the prospect of another drink after dinner in favour of heading home for a stomach soothing peppermint tea – unheard of!)  But we still found a corner for desserts and I am mightily glad we did.  The “peanut butter and jelly sandwich” was amazing – a blissfull combo of peanut butter parfait and raspberry compote, but the star (to my mind at least) was the brown sugar cheesecake.  This unassumingly beige dessert was sweet and creamy with a delicate hum of cinnamon spice – a perfect example of the cheesecake genre.  Worth the trip alone.

 

Cheesecake!

Mr Norman has recently opened a traditional pub which I will be sure to go and seek out next time I make it down South and, if I should happen to find him in there, perhaps doodling in a Moleskine, I will be sure to pull up a seat and explain to him in no uncertain terms why York would be the ideal location for a Northern branch of his empire.  In the meantime, Spuntino’s joins Polpo and Mishkin’s in the league of Restaurants I Wish Were Just Down The Road (but it is probably lucky, for the sake of my not inconsiderable waistline that they are not).

A New York themed dinner party

D and I do not give dinner parties very often.  The cost, partly financial but mainly physical and emotional, is just too high. 

 

D is something of a perfectionist, you see.  No, forget about "something of".  He is a perfectionist.  He wants to produce multi course tasting menus which are on a par with those you might expect to emerge from a Michelin starred kitchen.  He sometimes forgets to take into account that a) we are not professional chefs, b) we do not have professional equipment but c) we do have day jobs and d) a very small kitchen indeed.  This makes him grumpy.  He feels he has failed his guests.  I, too, get grumpy - mainly because I just want to have another glass of wine and relax over my dinner.  Perfectionism is not an affliction from which I suffer.

 

Anyway, this weekend we designed a menu of dishes inspired by food we ate in New York.  Some worked better than others but overall, I thought it was pretty good and I think our guests enjoyed it too, even though Marco Pierre White Junior had a brief meltdown over some missing horseradish. 

 

On arrival - truffle popcorn and cheese "cookies".  The truffle and rosemary popcorn was a nibble we came across in our NYC watering hole of choice, Third Avenue Alehouse.  To recreate, I mixed the kernels with truffle salt and dried rosemary (not fresh - it just caught horribly when I tried it) before popping in oil.  I tossed the popcorn in butter melted together with truffle oil just before serving and sprinkled it with a little extra truffle salt.  This is a decadent, dangerously moreish snack - perfect with an aperitif.

 

 

 The "cookies" were our nod to EMP's black and white cookie nibble.  When we ate those, you see, we jokingly said that they tasted like the best Ritz crackers and Primula you could have.  So, er, our guests actually got Ritz crackers and Primula.  There were although shavings of apple and sharp cheddar in there.

 

 

Pan fried mushrooms and squash mixed with dried cranberries and then topped with a rich, thick squash puree flavoured with herbs.  This was our version of EMP's nod to New England in the Fall.

 

 

Momofuku pork buns - recipe here.  The pork, brined and cooked as per instructions worked like a dream.  The buns, it turns out, do not respond too well to freezing - they were fine, but a tad drier than we would have liked.  In future, I'd just make these the day before and pep them up on the day.

 

 

Smoked sturgeon sabayon drizzled with chive oil and served with cream cheese and caviar rye toasts.  The sabayon was taken directly from the Eleven Madison Park book and, predictably, tasted absolutely divine.  D used a milk frother when reheating it to achieve a light texture which worked beautifully.

 

 

I think the matching wine must have got to the evening's official photographer (who, to be fair, was also head chef, waiter and sommelier) as the photos become a bit fewer and further between at this point.  So, you don't get to see the carrot tartare where carrots were lightly poached in chicken stock and butter, roughly chopped to achieve the tartare texture (EMP use an old fashioned meat grinder) and then served with raw quails' egg yolks, and a selection of condiments.  Nor will you be able to note that horseradish was not among the condiments and thus it was the carrot was served to the sound jaw grinding.  I liked it though - it is such a fresh, clever dish.

 

For the meat course, it had to be our take on the classic American deli sandwich, the Reuben: home made corned beef on baked circles of sourdough bread, Swiss cheese, sauerkraut and lashings of Russian mayonnaise.  The mayonnaise was delicious - flavoured with tomato ketchup (it is sweeter than tomato puree), horseradish, grated shallot and dill.  D was unhappy with the presentation of this dish but it tasted like an absolute dream and it is difficult to make the elements of a sandwich look pretty.

 

For cheese we again took inspiration from EMP where we were served a single cheese alongside the beer in which the rind had been washed.  We went for Stinking Bishop with a Perry accompaniment which worked beautifully and, in place of biscuits, baked pretzels from Paul Hollywood's recipe that worked like an absolute charm - I would urge you to give them a go if you, um, like pretzels.

 

 

Onto sweet courses and D loves to do a hot and cold cocktail as a pre dessert - his layered g&t is a thing of genius.  The hot and cold Manhattan didn't work quite as well as there was too much alcohol in the granita for it to freeze properly but it still looked pretty and tasted delicious.

 

Finally, peanut butter and jelly cheesecake pots - I loved these, and I don't really like peanut butter.  We made bars from this recipe (highly recommended) but wanted to serve it slightly deconstructed in a more restaurant (pretentious) style, so layered pieces of it up with fresh raspberries and salted peanuts before topping with a drizzle of melted jam and some cream.  About a squillion pro points, wouldn't you say?  Well worth it though.

 

We had intended to sample some chocolate covered salted pretzels with coffee but everyone was reeling slightly by now so we decamped to the sofa to rub stomachs and hide from the washing up.  I ate one for breakfast the next day though and can tell you that they are rather good - now if only Dean and Deluca could be persuaded to open a Leeds branch my cup would runneth over.

 

We are hoping to tempt my brother and sister in law over when they are next up North as some of these dishes definitely bear repeating.  And D's frazzled nerves should have repaired themselves by then.  Of course, if he were writing he would tell you that he just can't get the staff, and he would have a very fair point.  It turns out I do bake a damn fine pretzel though.

Recipe corner: Steamed buns a la Momofuku

I so wanted to call this post something along the lines of "My lovely buns".  Because I really do have the sense of humour of a prurient twelve year old boy. 

 

I also wanted to give it a gorgeous photo that would be an adequate reflection of quite how tasty these little beauties were.  But you know the score with regards my food photography skills by now.  So here are my steamed buns with prawn cakes:

 

 

Sexy, huh?  But then, the originals were not renowned for their great beauty:

 

 

I must admit, I was really, really happy with the way these turned out; taste and texture wise they were dead ringers for the ones we ate in Momofuku.  And OK they were David Chang's recipe but still, we've all seen that round on Masterchef where the contestants all get given exactly the same recipe and still manage to produce entirely different, often substandard, plates of food. 

 

If you haven't experienced these buns before they are quite hard to describe - they have a dense, damp texture and a slight sweetness to them and they are incredibly delicious and even more incredibly moreish.  I think that they are most commonly served with pork. On Saturday, we wrapped them round peppery little prawn cakes that D made by whizzing up raw king prawns, flour and plenty of seasoning.  The following day we went a bit off piste and had them with halloumi and sweet chilli sauce which may have been fusion gone mad but turned out to be seriously yummy.

 

They dry out fairly quickly once steamed but are easily revived - just brush them with water, put on a plate loosely covered with cling film and microwave on medium for about a minute. 

 

Ingredients

 

240ml warm water (I used a ratio of 1 part boiling to 2 parts cold tap)

1/2 tsp active dry yeast

3 tbsp plus 1 pinch sugar

2 tbsp skimmed milk powder

420g plain flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

Tbsp sunflower oil

 

Makes 16, 3 pro points per bun

 

Stir together 60ml of the water with the yeast (make sure that this is brought to room temperature first if you have kept it in the fridge) and a pinch of sugar.  Leave this to stand for 5-10 minutes until it starts to foam.  If it doesn't foam it means the yeast hasn't woken up - this could be to do with the temperature of the water (check it is not too hot) or the age of the yeast itself.  I watch Bake Off and therefore know these things.

 

While you are waiting, stir together the flour and the rest of the sugar in a large mixing bowl. 

 

To the foamy mixture add the rest of the water, and the skimmed milk powder and give a quick whisk to combine.

 

Gently stir the liquid into the flour.  The original recipe suggested using a fork, I used my Kitchen Aid on a low setting.  Keep going until the dough begins to form - it was soft to the touch but by no means sticky - and make sure that all the flour becomes incorporated.  Now turn out the ball onto a floured surface and knead for about five minutes (you could use a dough hook for this stage, but kneading is fun! It's like Play Dough for grown ups!)  You'll know that you're getting there when the dough takes on a pliant, elastic feel. 

 

Oil a large bowl and place the dough in there, turning it to ensure an even coating in the oil.  Cover with cling film and place in a warm spot for 2 hours, during which time it should roughly double in size.

 

Once this is done you need to give it a good pummelling which will make it deflate a little.  Transfer it to a lightly floured surface, flatten it out and sprinkle with the baking powder, then gather it up into a ball with the powder in the middle.  You now need to knead for another five minutes or so to ensure the baking powder is incorporated - again, you could use the dough hook attachment of a stand mixer to do this.  Recover the dough and leave to stand for another half an hour.

 

We're nearly there, campers!  Now it is time to shape and steam the buns.

 

First cut out squares of parchment paper approximately 3 inch square.  The buns will sit on these in the steamer, so you need one for each bun.  Roll the dough into a log shape about 16 inches long and then divide into 16 equal pieces.  Take each piece between your two hands, and use your palms to flatten it into an oval shape, then use a lightly floured rolling pin to roll the oval out so that it is about 6 inches long and 3 wide.  Now, using a pastry brush, brush one half with sunflower oil and fold it in half so it is the shape of a capital D - but do not pinch the edges together.  As each bun is shaped, cover loosely in cling film.  Allow them to stand for another 30 minutes or so, in which time they will rise very slightly.

 

The buns are now ready for steaming.  Sit some form of rack over boiling water, place the buns (sitting on their parchment paper) over the steam and cover for about five minutes, during which time they will puff up a little but not alarmingly so.  You may well have to do this in batches, unless you have the world's largest steamer.  Wrap the steamed buns in a clean tea towel until they are all done.  They do not need to be eaten straightaway (see above for revival tip) and can be frozen at this stage for future use.

 

Feel incredibly clever and incredibly smug.



This time last month...

I can’t believe it is one month since Christmas Day, when I was presented with a New York guidebook in a box.  One month since I discovered, via a series of obscure clues, that my New York based general knowledge is utterly pitiful.  Although would anyone here have known who Allen Stewart Konigsberg was?

 

I’ve primarily talked on here about some of the meals we had.  My thoughts on New York itself are…well.  I’m not quite sure.  It is a wonderful city, and one to which I would (I will) return again and again.  Blisteringly vibrant, it sweeps you up with its sense of immediacy and bustle.  And I love that it feels strangely familiar, where so many of its aspects have appeared so many times on well loved television shows that they’ve become inscribed on my consciousness.   But the scale of it is just so big, so sprawling and yet so soaringly tall, that it can be – it is - overwhelming.  I don’t think I could live there, for all I joked to D about settling down in a Greenwich writers’ commune.

 

But yes, I definitely need to go back.  Aside from anything else (and let’s be really clear what is important here), there are so many things that I never got round to eating!  We were, for example, frustrated in our final day quest for a slice of proper baked cheesecake – the carefully selected bakery had sold out when we arrived (we took some solace from their cupcakes which were very good indeed.

 

Cupcake!

We dipped our toes into the (mayonnaise) pool of NY deli by taking a trip to Katz’s.  It had to be done but I think both of us feel that we wouldn’t go back – while the juicily pink beef in the Reuben sandwiches was, undoubtedly, very good, the sandwiches themselves were not necessarily special enough to counterbalance the slightly scary experience.  Next time, we want to check out Barney Greengrass “The Sturgeon King”, whose deli apparently inspired a couple of the dishes we ate at EMP.

 

Reuben!

I can’t believe I didn’t get round to having a hot dog!  And while we did have pizza, I don’t think it was an example of NYC’s finest.  Mind you, if you want somewhere to escape the press of crowds around Times Square, Osteria al Doge is a welcome retreat and not ridiculously priced considering its location.   Worth going for the deadpan waiter alone.  But in terms of street food in general – a bit of a fail this time around, definitely an area to sample more widely. 

 

Pizza!

Oh, and thank you for the tip Beth, I now actually NEED to sample crack pie.  I may end up making some at home it looks…just…D, meanwhile, quite fancies trying to get into David Chang’s two Michelin star joint.  He is currently buying lottery tickets with feverish resolve.

Foodie Abroad: Third Avenue Alehouse

Given that we were going to be in New York for New Year, we initially pondered the possibility of going the whole hog and spending it in Times Square.  We were quickly disabused of this notion.  It’s horrible, we were told.  You arrive at five, you’re not allowed to carry liquids, you can’t leave to go to the loo, it’s cold, it’s crowded, it’s unpleasant.  I think that we were both secretly quite pleased to let go of the scheme and resolved to spend the evening in a warm bar instead, watching the ball drop on the TV.  And we went to see the spike that the ball would be on.  So that counts for something.

 The Third Avenue Alehouse did not look like anything special from the outside but it was a couple of blocks away from our hotel, and we popped in on the way back from a long day of museums not expecting anything in particular.  But by a very happy accident, as sometimes happens on holiday, it turned out to be one of our favourite locations and somewhere that we already talk of in wistful tones.  It may be the wrong city, but everyone secretly wants to find a Cheers when they go to America, don’t they?  You know, a bar where everybody knows your name?  Third Avenue Alehouse was ours. 

 

It wasn’t just the fact that it served an excellent range of artisan ales (D particularly enjoyed the coffee porter).  Or the fact that I spied one of my favourite wines, Wither Hills Sauvignon Blanc, lurking in the fridge the first time I hopped up onto one of the comfy bar stools.  Or the range of whiskies that would put many a Scottish bar to shame.  Or the friendly staff who were happy to chat and laugh at the English girl who didn’t have a clue about American football (“But why do they throw it backwards?”).    Or the to die for, truffle and rosemary popcorn (I’m quite upset that I didn’t get round to sampling the mac and cheese pie).  It was all of these things in conjunction with the fact that it so quickly felt like a little bolthole in a bewilderingly large and frantic city. 

 

 

So, New Years Eve 2013 found us propping up in the bar in our home away from home, astonishing Louis the barman with our drinking “fortitude” (he was so impressed that he gave us a free drink when we rolled in the next evening!)  It may not be quite as iconic as Times Square, but I couldn’t have asked for a nicer corner of New York, nor better company, to enjoy it.

Foodie Abroad: Momofuku noodle bar and The Spotted Pig

Some people list iconic sights to see when they go on holiday.  Us – we list restaurants.  If ever I wonder how I managed to obtain quite such a remarkable state of plumptiousness, I need not look much beyond my NYC to-do list.  Which basically read:

See stuff. 

EAT.

D is very good at picking places in which I want to eat based on descriptions and hearsay alone so I tend to trust his instincts on this.  He came up trumps as usual as evidenced by a fabulous lunch and brunch on New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day respectively.

Momofuku noodle bar was an unassuming kind of place from the outside.  We arrived early and killed time in a coffee bar a few doors down.  Although it didn’t take reservations, the area was so quiet that I was in no particular rush and couldn’t understand why my dining companion was getting twitchy as the clock edged towards noon.  At about two minutes past we went back.  And got the last seats in the place.  Five minutes later and the queue was out of the door.

Momofuku is famous for its pork buns and these were undoubtedly absolutely delicious.  The buns themselves are steamed, which achieves a very particular, pillowy texture, and then filled with sliced of melting belly pork, cucumber and a punchy hoi sin sauce.  We had one each and could quite happily have scoffed more – although I am not sure that I didn’t prefer the spicy shrimp buns, where the pork was replaced with a punchy little prawn cake.  We’re going to try and make these at home, so I will report back if I have any success.

 

Buns! - shrimp

Buns! - pork

D then manned up to tackle an enormous bowl of pork ramen – seriously, small children could have swum in it.  I opted for chilled spicy noodles which were tossed in enough chilli oil to provide instant lip augmentation but very tasty nonetheless – I loved the addition of candied cashews which provided interesting sweetness and crunch.  Again, the portion size was redonkulous, but it enabled me to ask for half of the bowl “to go” and I think I uttered a little keen of delight when this was delivered to me in a quintessential brown paper bag. 

 

Ramen!

Noodles! (buried)

Despite nursing noodle babies we had been told that desserts here were not to be missed so we forced (forced I tell you!) ourselves to try out the Captain Crunch cake truffles.  I have no idea what these little golden balls of deliciousness actually were but they were sweet and squidgy and wholly lovely. 

January 1^st was a somewhat different kettle of fish – not least because we had been shipping industrial quantities of booze the night before.  We abandoned any pretence of budgeting and staggered, bleary eyed, from hotel room into the cosy confines of a taxi cab to head for Greenwich Village and, that most American of institutions, brunch.

The Spotted Pig calls itself a gastropub, and the chef owner, April Bloomfield, is a Brit so clearly knows what that entails.  It tends towards the gastro side of the genre – this is no scabby local where you could pop for a pint and a packet of scratchings.  It felt rather…well, cool for want of a better description, which is not an adjective I’ve ever associated with similar places in this country, but there you go.  The staff, while friendly, were a bit…young?  Trendy?  Slightly annoyed to be working at noon on the 1^st January?  Something made them appear a tad disinterested.  I’m going to forgive them for that though because they served me the best cheese toastie EVER.  Although they called it grilled cheese.  I’m not kidding, this was AMAZING.  Look, see the capitals I am using because it was JUST THAT GOOD.  It was just bread and cheese of course but the raw ingredients must have been stellar and the cooking was just bang on – I think it was fried rather than grilled.  That, and a stiff Bloody Mary, and I was almost ready to face the day.  D’s burger looked rather luscious too.  But oh, the grilled cheese. Heaven. 

Burger!

Toastie!

Look at that beauty…(*author drifts off quietly into a (literally) cheesy daydream...)

Momofuku Noodle Bar

171 1st Ave,
New York,
NY 10003,
United States
+1 212-777-7773

The Spotted Pig

314 W 11th St,
New York,
NY 10014,
United States
+1 212-620-0393

Foodie Abroad: Eleven Madison Park

Menu

They say that Disneyland is the happiest place on earth, and up until a couple of weeks ago, I may well have believed them.  But let me tell you, beloved blog readers, there is no place in the world guaranteed to make you happier than a trip to Eleven Madison Park.

Let's face it, a surprise trip to New York is always likely to put you in a good mood.  But there is no way D could book such a trip without throwing in a decent birthday lunch.  EMP has no less than three Michelin stars and pops us in the top ten of the "World's Best" list, so good pedigree.  However, what attracted him to this place over the other swanky NYC locations (of which there are undoubtedly many) was the restaurant's ethos, which tends towards the localism approach becoming increasingly popular in the high end restaurant world.  In other words, food inspired by a sense of place.

Most of the ingredients we enjoyed during our lunch were sourced from New York state and some, like the beer which accompanied the cheese course, were created especially for the restaurant itself.  So that's great.  But as well as place there were some real nods to tradition and nostalgia in amongst the courses - black and white cookies, sturgeon and cream cheese on rye, egg creams...These were dishes that were rooted in the city itself, scattered throughout the menu like little love notes to New York. 


Cookies

Of course, localism and nostalgia are all very well and all very interesting to read about.  But unless food can deliver in terms of taste as well then they are ultimately empty gestures.  EMP didn't so much deliver as present to us in personalised, hand wrapped, be-ribboned boxes and give us a foot massage while we ate.  It was that good.  There was not so much as an element of a dish, not a single leaf of a garnish that was not perfectly judged and an absolute joy to eat.  It was, I think, one of the only times in my life that I have looked back on a meal and felt genuinely sad that I would never get to eat it again. 

Some courses were quirkier than others.  A personal favourite was the carrot tartare which was basically a steak tartare only with carrot.  No, really.  Carrots, lightly cooked in stock and butter were put through a hand mincer at the table and then presented with a range of traditional accompaniments such as raw, lightly pickled egg yolk, horseradish, salt, mustard seeds...The diner then mixes the carrot up and spreads the resultant gloop on thin, rye melba toasts.  It sounds like it should be style over substance but it was ridiculously delicious. 

Carrot

And talking of fiendishly tasty vegetables, what that kitchen could do with a humble squash!  Paired with chanterelles, cranberries and pumpkin seeds, this was squash as you have never tasted before.  Even D, famously dubious of vegetables, was prepared to lick the plate for this one.

Squash

Don't think the kitchen couldn't rise to the challenge of cooking meat beautifully as well though.  The main course duck was a thing of true beauty - and a side dish of braised leg, foie gras and mashed potato (essentially a very posh duck Shepherds' Pie) was ambrosial.

 

Duck

And desserts as well.  Sometimes this is where really good restaurants trip up - it was certainly my least favourite section of the Noma menu, for example.  Not here.  Here, from the sour sweet apple sorbet that accompanied the crème brulee tart, to the chocolate covered pretzels that made an appearance alongside excellent coffee, the pudding end of the menu more than held its own.

 



Apple

A word about the service as well.  D, being a typical Englishman does not believe in making a fuss about birthdays.  He happened to mention once, very briefly, during an email exchange, that he wanted a table for his wife's birthday - mainly because he needed to know when exactly to phone to book a precise date.  He thought no more about it.  I asked if I should expect a cake.  He snorted and said he'd stick a candle in a cupcake for me later in the week.  However.  The restaurant picked up on the comment.  Not only did several members of staff wish me a happy birthday when we arrived, but we also got the chance to visit the kitchen and enjoy a birthday cocktail (made with liquid nitrogen, natch) and I received a little box of birthday truffles (PB & J!!) to take away.  My point is that all three Michelin star restaurants will provide immaculate service.  EMP took it one step beyond.  It was exemplary. 

As I said, Disneyland has been ousted as the happiest place on Earth.  I don't think I have ever quite so whole heartedly recommended a restaurant before, and if I never do again then I will still consider myself an extremely lucky girl.  If you ever find yourself in NYC then do whatever you can to get a table here (and if there's a seat going then I have a kidney that I'd be perfectly willing to sell so that I could pop over and join you).

Eleven Madison Park
11 Madison Ave,
New York, NY 10010,
United States
+1 212-889-0905

No more champagne, and the fireworks are through...

 

 

So, we're home from NYC.

D says I shouldn't be allowed to go on good holidays because I get so upset at the end of them.  There were tears on the last night. 

And then, as Peridot so presciently guessed in her comment, there were almost tears at the airport when our flight was cancelled.  The weather hasn't been brilliant on the American East Coast, you see.  By an absolutely remarkable stroke of luck, we managed to get seats on a flight out of Newark just twelve hours after our original departure time.  So, we got to see the New Jersey Turnpike (which is referenced in one of our favourite Simon and Garfunkel songs.  And I'm sure all the people on the bus with us were delighted when we started singing about men in gabardine suits).

Weight news: today (I am a daily home weigher for better or for worse) saw me two and a quarter pounds up on my last pre-holiday weigh in and four and a quarter pounds up on my all time low back on the 16th December.  That's not bad at all.  While I think I have mostly grown out of the habit of all out gluttony I certainly didn't stint on food (or drink) over both the festive season and our American sojourn.  I have been tracking today which has been relatively painless as, after the epic 36 hour journey, I was utterly exhausted and didn't wake up until two this afternoon.  Tomorrow may be more interesting.

2013 - we hardly knew ye

Greetings, blog friends, from the Big Apple!  I write to you from a hotel room which contains little other than a very large television and a quite remarkably massive bed.  These Americans have got their priorities right.


Museum of Modern Art, NYC.  Plus, a hot dog vendor.

I had planned to do a carefully considered post about memories of 2013, top meals, top sandwiches, etc. but that's gone somewhat out of the window as I type this hurriedly before setting off to go and see the new World Trade Centre.  But I guess that you can tell from the location that the year is ending on a very different note to that on which it started and for that I am very thankful.

It turns out that my top meal of the year was taken in its very last few days.  Sorry, did I say top meal of the year?  I probably meant top meal of pretty much ever.  I'll tell you all about that when I get back.

I didn't post many recipes this year - possibly because I spent a lot of eating sandwiches.  I hope to do lots more next year and already have plenty of ideas for dishes that I want to, if not recreate, at least homage at home.  But I still have plenty of poundage to drop, despite finally getting my WW on in the last three months of the year, so I'll still be trying to make sure that things are relatively conducive to a calorie (or point) controlled eating plan.

So all the best to all of you for the New Year and can't wait to tell you about all of my adventures when I'm back in Blighty in 2014.

Sx

A fairytale of...

Me: Happy Christmas random friendly type!  Did you have a good day?

RFT: Lovely thanks.

Me: Bodyweight in turkey, cheese and chocolate consumed?

RFT: Of course!  Got to be done at Christmas!  And you?

Me: Well, I certainly wasn't pro-pointing, that's for sure.  Although I did try to exercise a touch of restraint, especially in the face of some delicious Parmesan and thyme biscuits.  I only ate three!  Actually, that looks quite piggy written down. And only one portion of my beloved sausage meat stuffing (this year the mater went for a Tom Kerridge recipe with chestnuts and cranberries which was very tasty indeed).

RFT:  And did the family come up trumps vis a vis presents?

Me (nonchalantly): Not bad, not bad.  Chocolate enough to see me through until Easter.  Perfume.  A bit of sparkle, a soupcon of Jo Malone...oh, and a trip to New York.

RFT:  ??!?!?!?!?!????

Me:  Yep, flying out on Friday for a week in the Big Apple.  And, to celebrate my birthday on Saturday, we'll be having lunch in one of the best restaurants in not just the city but the entire world.

RFT:  Wow.  So WW is going to be taking a back seat until the new year.

Me:  I think it's fair to say that.