It's by no means a 'destination' sandwich, but it's damn satisfying--for the money and the neighborhood, it's about as good as it gets. A perfect symphony of textures and flavors.
Just felt it was worth reiterating.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Sandwich Revisited
Speaking of revelatory experiences, I just recently rediscovered 'the Chicago' from Franklin Corner Deli in Greenpoint, and it is every bit as magical as ever. Somehow it never gets old. It's like new every time. I just had it for lunch for the second third time this week.
It's by no means a 'destination' sandwich, but it's damn satisfying--for the money and the neighborhood, it's about as good as it gets. A perfect symphony of textures and flavors.
Just felt it was worth reiterating.
It's by no means a 'destination' sandwich, but it's damn satisfying--for the money and the neighborhood, it's about as good as it gets. A perfect symphony of textures and flavors.
Just felt it was worth reiterating.
Dinner for one is awesome: Franny's - Prospect Heights, Brooklyn
I was in a funk yesterday. I don't know if it's because I haven't been smoking (I quit on New Year's, with just a small handfull of backsliding drags), or because I was also trying to not drink (because I am a glutton for punishment...for gluttony, and also the aforementioned backsliding), or because it was a full moon, or because of hormones. There are a million possible reasons.
In any case, I had planned to cook a lovely, optimistic "Goodbye Winter"-themed dinner for a few friends, something comforting, warm, stew-ish perhaps.
But then I got into a funk--maybe my body was shocked by the sudden leap in climate temperature--and had to go for a walk. And then I had to drink way too much coffee, not only because I have recently become addicted to drinking "black eye"s (coffee with 2 shots of espresso), but also as a preemptive move against the inevitable desire for alcohol that would come later while dining with friends, as well as to amp me up for cooking the wonderful feast (that was never to be). Big mistake. Somewhere, somehow hours got lost in meandering purposelessly around my neighborhood listening to Iron Maiden, and then in the chapter on herbs of the mint family in On Food and Cooking, and a directionless sort of panic set in. Panic to make the most of my day off, to make use of the beautiful day, make use of all of this synthetic energy? Who knows.
I canceled all my plans. I decided that I was in no condition to be amongst people in a social situation, and that I should just give into my craziness, surrender all my good intentions to the greater cause of sheer selfish gratification. And a terrific decision that turned out to be.
Because that is how I ended up at Franny's, with this gorgeous thing before me:
All for me, none to share. That is only half of the portion given, as I originally had not intended to photograph/blog it. The meal was supposed to be an entirely selfish endeavor, in every way. But this was too beautiful not to. Pork cheek AND beef tongue, pressed into one sinful orgy of arguably the world's finest meat parts, presented as a shimmering slice (two slices, actually) of heaven. With fresh horseradish shaved on top, and a sidekick of delicious crusty bread drizzled with olive oil. I don't think I even need to go into details, but I will. The tongue was so tender that the best way to describe it is "fluffy" (wishing for a more appetizing and meat-appropriate adjective here), while the cheek meat all but melted at the slightest poke of my fork, and all of it somehow still seeming light as a cloud as it wept (yes, wept) succulent rendered pork and beef fat--it was incredible. And if that sounds borderline erotic, well, I am happy to have provided a faithful and accurate depiction of my experience.
This, along with a hot, comforting bowl of cicerchie bean and kale soup, and a glass of Lambrusco, made for one of the most revelatory meals I've had in recent memory. For a lot of reasons.
1. I learned what cicerchie beans are [kind of] and that they are delicious.
2. The guy who walked in before me and inquired about the wait for a party of 2 was told, "at least an hour," whereas I--party of 1--was immediately offered a seat at the bar.
3. Without the need to be polite and try to carry on a conversation, or eat with a modicum of decorum (though I always do), I was able to devote 100% of my attention to the task of consuming, enjoying, and relishing--and none to the grating voice of the woman beside me, repeatedly jabbing her elbow into my left side, carrying on about her intense excitement about completing her acupuncture license training, or her (misguided) opinions of the same Lambrusco that I was enjoying at the moment. Once I started eating, it was like I was in the eye of a storm. All environmental intrusions vanished. Just me and the food. Until...
4. As I slowly, with some wistfulness, shoved the last porky-beefy-fat-smothered morsel of bread into my mouth, the vacuum surrounding me was punctured by the unmistakable and bracingly exhilirating intro to possibly the best feel-good song ever, and one of my favorite songs in the whole wide world:
Too perfect. I walked out of there feeling like I was actually glowing.
And with absolutely zero desire or need for a cigarette.
Lesson: if you want to eat a nice meal, at prime dining time on a weekend night when most good places are sure to be a shitshow nightmare, dining solo is a great way to do itanyway you want it.
(Sorry, had to.)
In any case, I had planned to cook a lovely, optimistic "Goodbye Winter"-themed dinner for a few friends, something comforting, warm, stew-ish perhaps.
But then I got into a funk--maybe my body was shocked by the sudden leap in climate temperature--and had to go for a walk. And then I had to drink way too much coffee, not only because I have recently become addicted to drinking "black eye"s (coffee with 2 shots of espresso), but also as a preemptive move against the inevitable desire for alcohol that would come later while dining with friends, as well as to amp me up for cooking the wonderful feast (that was never to be). Big mistake. Somewhere, somehow hours got lost in meandering purposelessly around my neighborhood listening to Iron Maiden, and then in the chapter on herbs of the mint family in On Food and Cooking, and a directionless sort of panic set in. Panic to make the most of my day off, to make use of the beautiful day, make use of all of this synthetic energy? Who knows.
I canceled all my plans. I decided that I was in no condition to be amongst people in a social situation, and that I should just give into my craziness, surrender all my good intentions to the greater cause of sheer selfish gratification. And a terrific decision that turned out to be.
Because that is how I ended up at Franny's, with this gorgeous thing before me:
Pork Cheek and Beef Tongue Terrine
All for me, none to share. That is only half of the portion given, as I originally had not intended to photograph/blog it. The meal was supposed to be an entirely selfish endeavor, in every way. But this was too beautiful not to. Pork cheek AND beef tongue, pressed into one sinful orgy of arguably the world's finest meat parts, presented as a shimmering slice (two slices, actually) of heaven. With fresh horseradish shaved on top, and a sidekick of delicious crusty bread drizzled with olive oil. I don't think I even need to go into details, but I will. The tongue was so tender that the best way to describe it is "fluffy" (wishing for a more appetizing and meat-appropriate adjective here), while the cheek meat all but melted at the slightest poke of my fork, and all of it somehow still seeming light as a cloud as it wept (yes, wept) succulent rendered pork and beef fat--it was incredible. And if that sounds borderline erotic, well, I am happy to have provided a faithful and accurate depiction of my experience.
This, along with a hot, comforting bowl of cicerchie bean and kale soup, and a glass of Lambrusco, made for one of the most revelatory meals I've had in recent memory. For a lot of reasons.
1. I learned what cicerchie beans are [kind of] and that they are delicious.
2. The guy who walked in before me and inquired about the wait for a party of 2 was told, "at least an hour," whereas I--party of 1--was immediately offered a seat at the bar.
3. Without the need to be polite and try to carry on a conversation, or eat with a modicum of decorum (though I always do), I was able to devote 100% of my attention to the task of consuming, enjoying, and relishing--and none to the grating voice of the woman beside me, repeatedly jabbing her elbow into my left side, carrying on about her intense excitement about completing her acupuncture license training, or her (misguided) opinions of the same Lambrusco that I was enjoying at the moment. Once I started eating, it was like I was in the eye of a storm. All environmental intrusions vanished. Just me and the food. Until...
4. As I slowly, with some wistfulness, shoved the last porky-beefy-fat-smothered morsel of bread into my mouth, the vacuum surrounding me was punctured by the unmistakable and bracingly exhilirating intro to possibly the best feel-good song ever, and one of my favorite songs in the whole wide world:
Too perfect. I walked out of there feeling like I was actually glowing.
And with absolutely zero desire or need for a cigarette.
Lesson: if you want to eat a nice meal, at prime dining time on a weekend night when most good places are sure to be a shitshow nightmare, dining solo is a great way to do it
(Sorry, had to.)
Friday, February 18, 2011
XXXX = WORK
...for the moment.
Since work occupies [much, much] more of my time than eating or drinking out lately, I figure I might as well post about what's going on there, which is somewhat relevant to this rather arbitrary dumping ground for food-related material I've created here. Do I or do I not dictate what is relevant in my arbitrary dumping ground? I do!*
*I do have photos for eating-out posts lined up, but those are not what I am most interested in right now.
So for the sake of keeping this [questionably] creative outlet alive, I present to you my first two 'blackboard' dessert specials:
[Apologies for the disorienting angle.]
And
Please forgive the terribleness of the pictures, taken with my cell phone[s]. As you can tell, I upgraded my cell phone between the first and the second. I had originally only taken these pictures for posterity, and to send to my dad. But now I proffer them to you, the ostensible viewing public, for lack of better/actual content. Enjoy!
I am quite happy with how both of them turned out. The plating of the first was not of my conception, and is not really my style, but I had no idea what I was doing, and my dessert itself--while delicious--pretty much visually amounted to a lumpy brown pile, and it needed to look nicer if we were going to sell it.
The second is currently on our menu, and will remain for the rest of the week. I love this cake, and have a new found love for lavender, towards which I had had some ambivalence before deciding to experiment with it here. And greek yogurt sorbet [we made ours in-house] is farking delicious, and should be sold by the gallon at bodegas everywhere.
I have to say, I am really thrilled about having the opportunity to dream up my own specials and actually have them sold to the public. It's really an awesome feeling, actualizing and executing a vision, and sharing it with people. I missed this feeling from art school, and it's very exciting to be able to experience it again, at my job no less! (Especially after having only been a pastry cook for just under 3 months now.)
And now, much like while I was in art school, I cannot sleep for all of the ideas buzzing and bouncing around in my skull. I've found that my most fruitful and imaginitive mental moments are those just between sleeping and wakefulness, in both directions. I predict more restive nights and cottony-eyed sunrises in my future. It's kind of nice.
More to come.
Since work occupies [much, much] more of my time than eating or drinking out lately, I figure I might as well post about what's going on there, which is somewhat relevant to this rather arbitrary dumping ground for food-related material I've created here. Do I or do I not dictate what is relevant in my arbitrary dumping ground? I do!*
*I do have photos for eating-out posts lined up, but those are not what I am most interested in right now.
So for the sake of keeping this [questionably] creative outlet alive, I present to you my first two 'blackboard' dessert specials:
1. Dark Chocolate Bread Pudding w/Brandied Pears, Candied Walnuts | Bailey's Ice Cream
[Apologies for the disorienting angle.]
And
2. Lavender Apple Upside Down Cake, Apricot Compote | Greek Yogurt Sorbet
Please forgive the terribleness of the pictures, taken with my cell phone[s]. As you can tell, I upgraded my cell phone between the first and the second. I had originally only taken these pictures for posterity, and to send to my dad. But now I proffer them to you, the ostensible viewing public, for lack of better/actual content. Enjoy!
I am quite happy with how both of them turned out. The plating of the first was not of my conception, and is not really my style, but I had no idea what I was doing, and my dessert itself--while delicious--pretty much visually amounted to a lumpy brown pile, and it needed to look nicer if we were going to sell it.
The second is currently on our menu, and will remain for the rest of the week. I love this cake, and have a new found love for lavender, towards which I had had some ambivalence before deciding to experiment with it here. And greek yogurt sorbet [we made ours in-house] is farking delicious, and should be sold by the gallon at bodegas everywhere.
I have to say, I am really thrilled about having the opportunity to dream up my own specials and actually have them sold to the public. It's really an awesome feeling, actualizing and executing a vision, and sharing it with people. I missed this feeling from art school, and it's very exciting to be able to experience it again, at my job no less! (Especially after having only been a pastry cook for just under 3 months now.)
And now, much like while I was in art school, I cannot sleep for all of the ideas buzzing and bouncing around in my skull. I've found that my most fruitful and imaginitive mental moments are those just between sleeping and wakefulness, in both directions. I predict more restive nights and cottony-eyed sunrises in my future. It's kind of nice.
More to come.
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