$30 Plate of Spaghetti? No Thanks!

My friend Coco kindly loaned me her copy of Anthony Bourdain's book Medium Raw many months ago. Shamefully I have yet to return it. Part of the reason is because I find myself often rereading part three, titled The Rich Eat Differently Than You And Me. He describes what he calls the Cipriani Model: the idea that the rich will pay outrageous sums to eat marginal food as long as they can be secure in the knowledge that others in their set will choose to do so at the same place. Places he describes with the words, "...restaurants that any food nerd with a Web site and a few bucks would walk sneeringly by."

I'll have to take M. Bourdain's word for that, as I have no plans whatsoever to hit the Rainbow Room or Cipriani. But as a food nerd I've noticed a trickle down of sort of thing. The most expensive meals I've had were rarely among the best, and when I think about my favorite places to eat, very few of them even qualify as moderately priced restaurants. That's not to belittle the work of the great chefs out there and the justifiably popular restaurants they operate. I just fail to see a strong correlation between the amount on the check and the deliciousness of the food when dining out, though I feel like I should. And I take issue with that.

I have nothing but my own experience to go on here, which tells me in most situations one hits a wall somewhere around $40 per person for dinner. I'm pretty convinced that after that point added expense has little to do with the quality of what arrives on your plate. (Sushi excluded, of course). After that you're paying for a place's prestige, its location and the privilege of dining among others who have no qualms shelling out that kind of money. That last one is key. You're not just paying for food costs, staff, rent and whatever other set costs one would assume contribute to the total sum. Tacitly or overtly you're paying to associate with members of a specific class, whether it's the one you happen to be a member of, or aspire to be.

There's nothing wrong with that, in my opinion. People have every right to eat at a place that's within their comfort zone, or even their aspiration zone. A nice place with a specific clientele, decor, service, wine list, etc... Maybe they even brag about how they source some of their ingredients. But will the food be "better" than at a place with lesser standards? Maybe yes, maybe no. Because the food only has to meet the expectations of the target audience. That's why the $30 plate of good (but not amazing) spaghetti exists in New York City. It all depends on your comfort zone.

But you know what? That ain't for me. I've tried for years to appreciate things like decor and service, and I've made peace with the fact that beyond a certain point I simply don't. I do not care how cute a place is, and as long as the service isn't completely feckless or rude I'm fine. The social status of the other diners in the room? I hope to be too engrossed in my meal and conversation to notice.

Which brings me back to the food itself: if the bill approaches $40 per person (or sails right past that) it had better be excellent. Because I know where to get excellent food for under $10 a plate in this town; fail to impress and I'm done with you. Helps to have a pretty broad comfort zone, admittedly.

Massaya: A Tasty Rosé for Spring

There may be a mix of rain and snow outside my window right now, but it's spring, which means soon it will be rosé season. Now is a good time to drink rosés in America. Back in the 60's pink wine meant Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill. In the 70's it meant Mateus or Lancers. Things got worse in the 80's. As if hair metal, trickle down economics and androgyny weren't enough we also got cloyingly sweet white zinfandel, which still accounts for 10% of the wine sold in the United States. (WTF?!) Fortunately things have gotten a little better in the 21st Century. Dry rosés have increased in popularity as the stigma against pink wine slowly recedes. This is a good thing, but it's driven up the prices of good examples from Provence (which is where many of the best are made). If you doubt this just ask one of your posh friends what they're paying for a case of Domaines Ott this summer.

So what are the rest of us to do on a hot afternoon when nothing would be better than a cold glass of pink wine? I found a number of good choices at a recent rosé tasting hosted by New York distributors Winebow. Aside from a couple stunning sparklers, the star of that tasting was Massaya Rosé, from Lebanon. That's right: Lebanon. You'd never guess. The bottle looks like one from Provence. On the nose and in the mouth you'd swear it was from Provence. It's crisp, refreshingly acidic without being overbearing, dry and even lingers a bit. It does make sense: the Lebanese climate is hot and dry, and they did learn wine making from the French. (Unsurprisingly there are a couple French heavy hitters involved with Massaya). The story is pretty good, too. The winery is located in the Bekaa valley, so Israel shelling nearby targets or blowing up the road to the vineyard can have an effect on some vintages. We're not just talking good wine, we're talking triumph in the face of real adversity. I'll support that.

Best of all, Massaya Rosé will retail for about $12 a bot when the 2010 vintage hits the shelves in a couple weeks. So let everyone in the Hamptons tear through all the $40 bottles of D.O. they want to this summer. I know what I'll be drinking, and it won't be from Provence. Lebanon's got my attention this year.

Fish Curry!

I've never met a fish curry I didn't like. This one is both delicious and easy to make. It takes about half an hour. I used cod and squid last night, but you could use either. It would work well with shrimp, too. While fiercely tasty, I'll admit this curry is a bit on the mild side. You can adjust how tangy and hot it is by how heavy you go with the vinegar and hot pepper. When you open your can of coconut milk you'll be able to judge how thick it is; if it's half solid the curry will be very rich, whereas thinner will make a less rich curry. Both are good. If you have thick coconut milk you can always thin it down with a little water, but with thin you're best to use the whole can. One last point: most of my recipes are on the less salty side, because one can always adjust salt to taste at the table. You may want to taste and reason before serving. Beyond that there isn't much to this practically foolproof fish curry beyond making up some rice, dal and greens to go with it. If you really want to get crazy you could add a peeled boiled egg or two like the Malaysians do, but I think that would be gilding the lily in this case.

This recipe will serve four with rice, dal and greens.

1 1/2lb fish (I use 1 lb cod, 1/2lb squid), cut into bite sized pieces
2 Tbs white vinegar
3-5 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 inch piece of ginger, peeled and chopped
1tsp black mustard seeds
2Tbs oil
1Tbs each: coriander, fennel and cumin seeds
generous 1/2 tsp turmeric powder
1/4 tsp Indian hot pepper powder (or cayenne)
jalapeno pepper, sliced in rounds (seeds and all; don't be a wuss)
2-4 tomatoes, cut into generous chunks
14 oz can coconut milk (if thick use 2/3 of can)
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup chopped cilantro, to garnish (or more, to taste)

In a bowl marinate seafood in vinegar. In a dry frying pan toast coriander, cumin and fennel seeds until fragrant. Let cool and grind together in a spice grinder (I like a cheap whirling blade coffee grinder). Toasting the spices is the secret to the curry - it's easy, so don't blow it off! In a large pan heat oil and black mustard seeds. When you hear the first seed pop add jalapeno pepper, ginger and garlic. Let fry for about a minute, then add tomatoes and salt. When tomatoes have softened a bit add coconut milk, turmeric, hot pepper powder and the toasted spice blend. Take a whiff of what's happening - it should be glorious! When tomatoes are cooked add seafood with the juice at the bottom of the bowl. The seafood will cook in 2-3 minutes. Garnish with cilantro and serve immediately.

Eldridge Street, Chinatown, Manhattan

Generations of New Yorkers have enjoyed the luxury of good, inexpensive Chinese food, some of it Americanized, some less so. Today Chinatown has more choices than ever: Old guard Cantonese, complete with roast ducks hanging in the windows, trendy Shanghai joints serving soup dumplings, dim sum restaurants, bakeries, tiny counters where people start the day with a cup of tea, a bowl of congee and a doughnut... Most New Yorkers have their favorites, whether it's Wo Hop, Hsin Wong, Joe's Shanghai, Mei Li Wah Coffeehouse, NY Noodletown or lesser known places they'd rather keep to themselves. Manhattan's Chinatown might not be as vibrant as Flushing's, but it's no tourist theme park, either. Granted, a few blocks have become that, but Chinatown stays refreshed by waves of new immigrants arriving and setting up shop. Many of the shops they set up happen to be food related businesses.

As a home cook I admire the frugality of Chinese cooking in general. Wastefulness is frowned upon, and value is appreciated; that lines up with my own way of thinking very nicely. I don't go out to eat often, but when I do it's no surprise when I end up in Chinatown. There are so many places where the food is good and I leave feeling like I got my money's worth (and then some). Extreme examples of this seem to be clustered on, or very close to Eldridge Street. They stand out so sharply in my mind that I drag people there. But they never seem to mind.

It's fun to eat delicious handmade food in places where if lunch costs more than $8 you're doing it wrong. A buddy from San Fransisco proclaims the dumplings in these shops "the best potstickers I've ever had." My dear friend Richard Priest calls them "pork porn." It was fun to watch band mates Jeff Kite and Mike Bloom overcome by the first bite of the Lamb burger at X'ian Famous. Or Julian Casablancas suspiciously eye a Fujian fish ball before trying and liking it. It was fun to see if my brother could polish off an order of dumplings and a bowl of hand pulled noodles. (He can). It's fun to see out of town guests shocked that places like these actually exist in 2011 New York. (There's so much more to this city than $14 cocktails and $35 plates of pasta!) It's even fun to pick up the tab; the damage is very little here.

So I'm going to take a break from offering home cooking ideas and instead suggest a walk down Eldridge Street. Depending on where you live and what your plans are for a New York City visit this may or may not be a practical suggestion. It stands as a tasty, inexpensive suggestion, regardless. Here's where I go:

Vanessa's Dumpling House, 118 Eldridge St. This is a good place to start. Word is out, and it's often crowded. What to get: fried pork and chive dumplings (four for a buck), sesame pancake sandwiches, homemade pickled cabbage (like a milder, sweeter take on kimchi). Mr Dunn, Glaswegian guitar tech extraordinaire (and a man with no patience for anything frou frou) considers this place a "top call." I took my nieces here years ago and they still talk about it. You can get more tasty food than most can consume in one sitting here for $4, all of it made before your eyes.

Prosperity Dumpling, 46 Eldridge St. There's a running debate on who has the better fried pork dumplings, Prosperity or Vanessa's. To me it's a knife-edge call: if you like more of a ginger flavor you'll prefer Vanessa's, but if thinner wrappers and pronounced scallion flavor are your thing Prosperity wins. A few years ago Julian Casablancas and I did a Lower East Side fried dumpling shootout, and Prosperity was our winner. The place can seat maybe ten people, so get your dumplings (five for a dollar) to go. Eat them walking down the street; they won't last half a block. Word is out about this place, too, so there is sometimes a line.

Super Taste, 26 Eldridge St. You can get good dumplings here, too, but the hand pulled noodles in soup are the star of the show. The spicy beef version is noteworthy, and quite spicy the last time I had it. (Also a bargain at about five bucks). You can watch the guy making noodles behind the counter.

Sheng Wang, 27 Eldridge St. To me this place is the star of Eldridge Street, and word seems to be getting around. Though the crowd is still mostly Fujian I've noticed other "aging hipsters" on recent visits. English is spoken here, but haltingly. Best to just point at the menu. Their policy has been not to serve tea, but they've realized many Westerners expect it, so it seems to show up at tables where Westerners are sitting. Last time I visited it arrived in small styrofoam soup containers. Very charming, even though the tea itself is weak. They offer both knife peeled and hand pulled noodles; the former are more interesting, but the latter are a little better, among the best I've had. Their steamed dumplings ($3 for 12) might be the best on Eldridge street - thin skins and a perfect balance of ginger and scallion flavor. They've elevated the lowly fish ball into a work of art as well, by giving it a ground pork center. It's obvious they're proud of that because they sneak one into most orders of soup, regardless of what you have ordered. I cut to the chase and order the hand pulled noodles in soup with fish balls ($4.50) to assure I get five or six in my bowl. Fifty cents extra gets you a fried egg on top.

Xi'an Famous Foods, 88 East Broadway. Walk to the southern end of Eldridge Street and you're looking at the base of the Manhattan Bridge. One of the businesses there is Xi'an Famous. This is food from Western China, with a Uighur influence. Nearly everything is oily, salty and spicy (cumin and hot pepper are well-represented). Imagine a mix of Chinese and Middle-Eastern flavors and you're not too far off the mark. Lamb and pork are the meats available, and their handmade noodles are completely different than those of their Eldridge Street neighbors - starkly white and quite thick. Most of the dishes here are too much of a commitment to eat on the street, and the shop's tiny counter can only accommodate three diners. So only go for the Cumin Scented Lamb Noodles, the Liang Pi Noodles or the Spicy and Tingly Lamb Face Salad (all excellent choices) if you're of a mind to seek out a bench somewhere to sit down and eat them. (You are just a block from Sara D. Roosevelt Park). If just a quick grab and go is more your style I'd have to recommend the lamb burger ($3.50): cumin scented lamb served on a bun that is like a tough Chinese version of an English muffin. That might not sound appealing, but trust me: it is sublime.

Bitter Melon

I like food with character. I don't need bold, assertive flavors 24/7, but I'll admit I gravitate to them. Bitter melon is a favorite of mine. It isn't for everyone - while popular in Asia, it's more of a cult veggie among Westerners. It's name is only half correct: it's not a melon; it's a gourd. But it is bitter, possessed of the powerful astringency of quinine. Some say the flavor reminds them of asprin. It has a medicinal taste, and in China has many uses in traditional medicine. I've heard of it being good for diabetes, hangovers and psoriasis, among other things. It is densely packed with nutrients, to be sure. But most important to me is that its astringency is a perfect foil to one of my favorite foods: pork.

On Chinese menus it appears in soup or stir fried with beef, but I'm of the belief that bitter melon is at its best with pork in a black bean sauce. And not sliced pork, char siu or the more traditional little spare rib chunks, either. I like it with coarsely ground pork. This has been in pretty regular rotation in my kitchen for 20 years. I'll include it on the menu for dinner parties sometimes, and am still surprised when it's one of the first dishes to be polished off. Bitter melon's flavor can be a bit much for some, but against ground pork and black bean sauce it's capable of winning people over. I'm capable of eating almost half a pound of bitter melon in a sitting, and am lucky enough to be married to a woman who takes great joy in doing the same.

Bitter melon can be found in Asian markets. You want it green, not orange. Sometimes you can find the Thai variety, which is white and very mild. The Indian variety is darker and even bumpier, not what I'd use for this dish. Right now bitter melon appears to be out of season in the Northeast, so not everyone has it, and it's $4 a pound - more than twice what I pay in the summer. But I'll pay it, because I need my fix. Today was one of those days, hence this post.

Approach the bitter melon by slicing it down the center lengthwise (unlike my picture above). Use a teaspoon to scoop out the seeds and white pulp, which you discard. Cut each half of the vegetable into 1/4" half rounds, and you're ready to go.

Note: Bitter melon is not a fast enough cooking vegetable to stir fry the way you would a bell pepper. You have two options for getting it cooked through: you can boil the slices for a few minutes beforehand, drain them and let dry before stir frying. Or you can let the finished dish simmer in the wok over low heat, covered, for a few extra minutes to finish cooking the bitter melon. I like the second method, although it seems to violate standard wok practices. Just remember the less cooked the melon the more bitter it will be. You don't want it totally soft, but you do want it cooked through.

The recipe below will makes enough for a complete dinner for two over rice, or will feed as many as six as part of a larger meal. (The black bean sauce in the recipe is also a no-brainer for seafood dishes, and even works for chicken and vegetables).

Pork and Bitter Melon in Black Bean Sauce

3/4lb bitter melon, cut in half-rounds as described above
1/3-1/2 lb ground pork (coarse is better)
2Tbs Chinese fermented black beans soaked in 2Tbs Chinese rice wine
Tbs soy sauce
1/2tsp sugar
1/3 cup chicken stock
3-4 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2" piece ginger, peeled and chopped
1 jalapeno pepper, sliced into rounds
3Tbs peanut oil, for frying
heaping Tbs cornstarch made into a slurry with and equal amount cold water, to thicken

Pour oil into hot wok. Add bitter melon and stir fry for 3-4 min, adding a little oil if needed to keep from sticking. Add garlic, ginger and hot pepper and fry another minute. Add ground pork and sugar and fry until pork is mostly cooked, about two minutes. Add chicken stock, sugar, black beans in rice wine and soy sauce. Lower heat and let simmer (covered works fine) until bitter melon is cooked through, about four minutes. Stir in the cornstarch slurry until the liquid is the consistency of gravy. Discard extra slurry. Serve over white rice.

Pork Vindaloo

A pork curry? That doesn't square with Muslim curry eaters (and most Hindus), but there are Christian communities where pork is eaten on the Indian sub-continent. This dish is from Goa, where Portuguese missionaries arrived many generations ago. I've heard speculation that the vinegar in the dish was inspired by Portuguese stews cooked in wine. Makes sense - a pork curry would almost have to be a fusion dish, wouldn't it? The tangy vinegar nicely plays off the spices and the richness (read: fat) of the pork. It's very good.

Spicy pork served with rice hits my happy button pretty hard, and as a result I have two ways of preparing this dish. There's a quick method using pork loin (since loin gets tough when overcooked) and a long simmering version using shoulder meat. The long simmering method is a little better, but my source for pork (Hoosic River Poultry at the Tompkins Square Greenmarket) is often sold out of shoulder by the time I get there, so I learned how to make due with the more expensive and less tasty loin. Marinating the meat in the curry paste and adding some tomatoes (two tricks I picked up from a recipe by Emeril Legasse) make the quick method work. When slowly cooking the shoulder meat I leave out the tomatoes in favor of a cinnamon stick and a few cardamom pods. Either is a good excuse for a trip to the spice shop.

I serve it with white rice (basmati is good, but any rice works), dal and spinach. I've included my recipe for toor dal below, but you can use whatever dal recipe you like. I like toor dal because it's interesting; it looks like giant yellow split peas, but has a taste all its own. The spinach is easy to make: just saute a little chopped onion, garlic, ginger and hot pepper in oil with a pinch of salt, then add spinach until everything is cooked. Frozen spinach works fine.

Note: My curries sucked for a long time, because I was intimidated by the steps and ingredients involved, and tried cutting corners. I half-assed it, instead of just going for it. The bottom line is that this meal will take just over 40min to make using the quick method or about an hour using the slow cooking method. The dal takes about 40 min to cook anyway, so put the dal on first, get to toasting the spices, do the rice and spinach while the meat marinates/stews (depending on which method you use) and everything will come together at more or less the same time. You'll be busy enough that you won't have time to be intimidated! And you get an impressive pork curry when you're finished.

The recipes below feed two, with easily enough left over for lunch the next day:

Pork Vindaloo

For the curry paste:

Tbs coriander seeds
Tbs cumin seeds
Tbs black mustard seeds
6-8 whole cloves
1/2 tsp salt
tsp turmeric
1/4-1/2 tsp Indian hot pepper powder (or cayenne)
1/3 cup white vinegar

Toast coriander, cumin, mustard and cloves in a dry frying pan, shaking every minute or two so they don't burn. When you can smell them turn off heat and let cool. Grind in spice grinder and mix in small bowl with remaining ingredients. Congrats, you've made a vindaloo paste from scratch!

Quick method:

1lb pork loin, cut into bite sized cubes
curry paste, above
2 onions, chopped
3-4 cloves garlic, chopped
Tbs chopped fresh ginger
3-4 canned whole tomatoes (depending on size), broken up by hand, with their juice
2-3 Tbs cooking oil
cilantro leaves, to garnish (optional)

Marinate pork in a bowl with curry paste for at least 20 min. In a heavy bottomed pot saute onions in oil until nearly translucent. Add garlic and ginger and saute another minute or two. Add pork to pot, leaving excess marinade in bowl. Cook for five minutes, until spices start to stick to bottom of pot. Add tomatoes and remaining marinade and simmer for five minutes more, until pork is cooked through. If you're skittish about the pork being fully cooked simmer a minute or two more, but remember if you overcook the loin meat it will be tough. Serve garnished with cilantro leaves (optional).

Slow cooking method:

1lb pork shoulder, cut into bite sized cubes
curry paste, above
2 onions, chopped
3-4 cloves garlic, chopped
Tbs fresh ginger, chopped
1 stick cinnamon
5-6 whole cardamom pods
1 heaping tsp brown sugar
2-3Tbs cooking oil
1/2 cup water

In a heavy bottomed pot saute onions in oil until nearly translucent. Add garlic and ginger and saute another minute or two. Add pork and saute until cooked on the outside. Add remaining ingredients, cover and simmer for half an hour. Remove cover and simmer another half hour, until pork is tender, stirring every now and then and adding a little extra water if needed to keep from sticking. Serve garnished with cilantro (optional).


Toor Dal:

!/2 cup toor dal (available at Indian grocery stores)
1 1/2 cups water
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp turmeric
2-3 cloves garlic, chopped
1tsp ground cumin
2Tbs cooking oil
1 heaping tsp brown sugar
juice of 1 lemon or lime
cilantro leaves, to garnish (optional)

In a small pot bring dal, water, turmeric and salt to a gentle simmer. Simmer for about 40 min, stirring every now and then, so it doesn't stick, until dal is cooked. It should be like a thick soup. Add a little extra water if it gets any thicker than that. Turn off heat and mash with a fork or potato masher. In a pan fry garlic in oil for a minute or two. Add mashed dal and remaining ingredients, stir to mix together well and turn off heat. Garnish with cilantro (optional).

Pörkölt

I'm usually so busy eating pork and fish I sometimes overlook the wonder that is beef. I do keep a chuck roast in the freezer most of the time, and recently this has been how it often ends up. While many variations of paprika stew exist, Pörkölt is the most basic, not to mention incredibly tasty. No sour cream, potatoes, tomatoes or sauerkraut involved. Just onions melted in lard, meat, salt, paprika and a little water. (I add garlic and a sprinkling of caraway seeds, which is enough to raise eyebrows among purists). Because of this you want to make sure you use good paprika - the best sweet paprika you can get your hands on. I won't use the nasty lard from the supermarket, either. I get mine from Flying Pigs Farm, so it's outrageously expensive, but delicious, and a little goes a long way. Try to find a good source. This dish is traditionally low simmered until the meat is tender, but it works equally well in a pressure cooker. Serve with boiled or mashed potatoes, dumplings or egg noodles. (I favor garlic mashed, because I have yet to master proper dumplings). Add one of those Germanic salads from a few posts ago and you have a perfect winter meal. Simplicity is good.

This recipe will serve 2-3:

1 1/2 lb beef chuck, cubed
3 onions, chopped
3-4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 tsp lard
salt, to taste
2 heaping tsp sweet paprika
1/4 tsp caraway seeds
1 cup water

Heat lard in pot. Saute onions, garlic and salt over medium heat. Add beef and paprika when onions are nearly translucent and saute for a minute or two. When it starts to stick (don't let it burn) add water and caraway seeds. Cover and bring to a gentle simmer. Simmer until beef is tender, about one hour (or 15-20 min in a pressure cooker). Check several times to make sure liquid doesn't cook off; if needed add a little more water. (You don't need to do this if using pressure cooker, but your gravy will not be as thick as the long simmering method).