Salsa #7

Salsa #7 refers to the ranking of recipe requests on Google for this vibrant condiment.  Salsa, in fact, has overtaken ketchup sales in America in dollar value (not volume, yet.)  No one could really have anticipated it, except perhaps the guys behind the Tostitos and Pace brands.  According to one study, ketchup just edged out salsa by units sold, 176 million to 174.9 million.  Pretty close.  But because ketchup bottles are bigger, ketchup trounced salsa in pounds sold.  Nonetheless, no one dips a tortilla chip into a bowl of ketchup! And there are no Champion Ketchup Competitions, such as the World Salsa Competition held by the International Chili Society.  What is interesting, too, is that few foods have dances to call their own. Salsa as food; salsa as performance art.  I love them both.

As one research firm has discovered, salsa consumption has bucked the usual “proletarian drift” of many other new food products which usually begin in the large coastal metropolitan areas and slowly migrate to the heartland. Instead, salsa began in the southwest and spread its piquancy across America.  Salsa is also interesting as it is ubiquitous in the Latino market yet is still considered a bit upscale — and also a healthy choice — by the Anglo marketplace.

Red salsa-in-a-jar has so many uses. My good friend Chase Crossingham makes superb guacamole-filled omelettes and tops them with salsa and sour cream. Splendid. I have pureed the heck out of it, added a touch of olive oil and lime zest, and used it as a puddle for grilled swordfish. Once I steamed 3 pounds of mussels in it and added a splash of tequila.  In my cookbook Recipes 1-2-3, I dared make a soup that I called “Sopa de Salsa” — made with half-and-half, yellow onion, and a jar of medium-hot salsa. But there are many other salsas to explore — I like them made with fresh fruit, too — mangoes and pineapple add great verve.

Here’s the 2008 World Champion Salsa winner called Alf’s Salsa. It has lots of ingredients but seems radically simple to make.

4 jalapenos, seeded and deveined
4 serranos, seeded and deveined
2 Anaheim peppers, seeded and deveined
1 yellow bell pepper
1 orange bell pepper
8 Roma tomatoes
juice of 1 lime
16 oz. can of diced tomatoes
16 oz. can of pureed tomatoes
1 red onion
1 yellow onion
1 white onion
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground cayenne
3 cloves garlic, mashed
2 tablespoons salt
2 tablespoons sugar
1 bunch cilantro

Finely dice the peppers, onions and tomatoes. Add the remaining ingredients except the cilantro. Chill 2 hours; chop the cilantro and add as much as desired.

And here’s a much simpler version!
1 tablespoon oil
1 small onion
1 large clove garlic
2 very large ripe tomatoes
1 small jalapeno pepper, seeded and finely chopped
3 tablespoons finely chopped cilantro
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
fresh lime juice and Tabasco to taste

Chop all the ingredients very well. Add fresh lime juice, Tabasco and salt to taste. Cover and refrigerate at least 30 minutes.

The Hummus Factor

Pronounced most properly as “who-mousse” (not hum-muss), this now ubiquitous chickpea spread landed as number six on Google’s most frequent recipe search.  Yet, a recent article in The Jewish Week stated that 82% of Americans have never tried it.  Huh?  Statistically then, hummus recipes are voraciously desired by a rather small universe.   According to Amy Spiro, who wrote the story, in 1995 hummus was a $5 million industry with just a handful of companies manufacturing it.  Today sales have reached $350 million a year.  Maybe the universe for delicious dips is expanding.

I have always loved hummus.  During 10 visits to the Middle East since 1980, I have pursued the best and most authentic.  I am generally surprised how thick and ultra-suave the texture is (mine never quite gets that way).  Hummus is a chickpea puree flavored with tahini (sesame seed paste), fresh lemon, garlic and cumin.  Cold water is generally added to help emulsify the ingredients and loosen the sesame paste.  There are as many versions as there are characters in a Tolstoy play: I love it served warm and topped with toasted walnuts and dukkah (a spice blend from Egypt); served cold with spicy warm ground lamb; topped with zhug (a very spicy Yemenite condiment) and a hard-boiled egg, or just as is with a sprinkling of pine nuts and a pile of toasted pita.  In my new book Radically Simple, I saute a mess of wild mushrooms and pile them atop a mound of lemony hummus as a great first course for the vegetarians I know and love.  Hummus, is also my “go to” improv hors d’oeuvre for any last-minute guests.  And although hummus is most delicious made with dried chickpeas you cook yourself, it is perfectly credible made with canned chickpeas:  They are always in my pantry.

Generally considered a dip, hummus has become a most universal food:  It is breakfast for some, a wholesome lunch for others.  It can be a snack, a sandwich spread, something with which to fill cherry tomatoes, an edible bed for grilled chicken or fish.  I like to sneak a mound of hummus under a hillock of lightly-dressed greens for fun.  Look, surprise, hummus!

Here’s my favorite recipe adapted slightly from Little Meals: A Great New Way to Eat & Cook (written by me in 1993.)

Hummus
Serve with a pile of toasted pita bread or with a grand array of fresh vegetables for dipping.  The recipe is easily doubled and tripled and lasts several days in
your fridge.

1-1/2 cups freshly cooked chickpeas (or a 15-ounce can)
3 to 4 tablespoons freshly-squeezed lemon juice
3 tablespoons tahini (well-stirred)
1 medium clove garlic
2 to 3 tablespoons cold water
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon salt
extra-virgin olive oil for drizzling
optional: toasted sesame seeds and smoked paprika for dusting on top

If using canned chickpeas, drain them under cold water and shake dry.  Put chickpeas, 3 tablespoons lemon juice, tahini, garlic, 2 tablespoons water, cumin and salt in a food processor and process several minutes until very smooth.  Add more lemon juice if desired and a little more water to make a smooth consistency, if necessary.  Pack into a shallow dish or spread the hummus on a large plate.  Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with sesame seeds and smoked paprika, if using.  Makes 1-1/2 cups

Heavenly Hots

Yes, PANCAKES are numero five on Google’s most-requested recipe list.  And while I always loved pancakes as a kid, we never ate them at home.  Instead we enjoyed my mother’s crepe-like palascintas (she was Hungarian) and ventured out to IHOP as a special treat. (We also had Christmas brunch there this year!) My brother and I ate buttermilk pancakes (I’m sure I had mine with strawberries), but my mother ate IHOP’s version of palascintas! — elegant crepes drenched in a faux Grand Marnier syrup.  My dad ate hash, sausage and bacon.  As I recall, his cholesterol was surprisingly low.  But most people eat pancakes at home.  Only this year did I create a pancake recipe for Radically Simple, where the batter rises slowly overnight — much in the way that a yeast-bread rises — allowing for concentrated flavor and lots of air bubbles that result in supernal fluffiness.  These pancakes are the yin to the yang of Marion Cunninghams’ “Heavenly Hots” — my favorite pancake experience of all time.  I first had them at the Bridge Creek Restaurant one morning, in Berkeley, California, when I was alone on a business trip. John Hudspeth was the chef and owner and a dear friend of Marion’s:  She was the original Fanny Farmer and one of the most loved women in the food world. (I later became of friend of Marion’s and dearly enjoyed my time with her near her home in Walnut Creek, CA and when she visited New York.)  I recall the first bite of the aptly-named “heavenly hot.”  I swooned.  Everyone did.  For these small delicate pancakes seemed to levitate, then slowly disappear on your tongue.

Thanks to Marion’s lovely book, “The Breakfast Book,” signed to ‘Michael and Rozanne’ in 1987, (we had just gotten married), the inclusion of this special recipe makes it possible to eat them at home. In her sweet headnote Marion writes, “These are the lightest sour cream silver-dollar-size hotcakes I’ve ever had — they seem to hover over the plate.  They are heavenly and certainly should be served hot.”

Bridge Creek Heavenly Hots
According to Marion, this recipe yields fifty to sixty small pancakes!

4 eggs
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 cup cake flour
2 cups sour cream
3 tablespoons sugar

Put the eggs in a mixing bowl and stir until well blended.  Add the salt, baking soda, flour, sour cream, and sugar.  Mix well.  All of this can be done in a blender, if you prefer.  Heat a griddle or frying pan until it is good and hot, film with grease, and drop small spoonfuls of batter onto the griddle — just enough to spread to an approximately 2-1/2-inch round.  When a few bubbles appear on top of the pancakes, turn them over and cook briefly.  Makes 50 to 60 silver-dollar size pancakes

#4 Delicious Banana Bread

Photo: Phil Mansfield

I am imagining the tonnage of overripe, black-and-yellow speckled bananas lounging in home kitchens across America.  Why else would banana bread be Google’s fourth most sought-after recipe?  And while I enjoy banana bread as much as the next guy, it is hard to imagine it trumping brownies, let’s say, as the most beloved treat.  But valuable it is in the nutrition it can offer.  My recipe for a super-moist banana bread includes a freshly-grated zucchini and lots of plump golden raisins.  It also incorporates olive oil, instead of butter, for added moisture and even more health benefits.  My recipe also uses less sugar than the more typical bread and that sugar is unrefined turbinado, rather than granulated.  So there you have it.  A very lovely Banana-Zucchini Bread that is radically simple, and quite healthy, to make.  These types of breads  are also called “tea cakes” and are a nice thing to serve for afternoon tea with a dollop, perhaps, of mascarpone (Italian cream cheese) sweetened ever so slightly with wildflower honey.

I’d be thrilled if anyone cared to share a favorite banana bread recipe with me.  I’ve got plenty of bananas lounging around.

Very Moist Banana-Zucchini Bread
You will love the mysterious flavor and moisture that comes from a very ripe banana and a zucchini!  Healthy, easy, wonderful.

1 large zucchini, about 10 ounces
2 extra-large eggs
3/4 cup turbinado sugar
2/3 cup olive oil, plus more for greasing the pan
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1 large over-ripe banana
1/2 golden raisins
1-1/2 cups self-rising flour

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Wash the zucchini and dry; do not peel.  Grate the zucchini on the large holes of a box grater to get 2 cups.  Using your clean hands, squeeze the zucchini dry.  In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the eggs and sugar on medium-high for 3 minutes.  Add the oil, vanilla, cinnamon and 1/4 teaspoon salt; beat for 30 seconds.  Peel the banana and mash well.  Add to the mixture and beat until the banana is incorporated and the mixture is smooth.  Stir in the zucchini and raisins, then slowly add the flour and mix well.  Lightly oil a 8-x-4-inch loaf pan.  Pour in the batter and bake for 55 minutes until firm and golden.  Let cool; turn bread out of pan and slice.  Serves 8

A Great Cheesecake

Cheesecake recipes are precious legacies.  Many get handed down from generation to generation more sure-handedly than the family china.  A good cheesecake is the crown jewel of the American dessert cart and, “Whose is best?,” is the mythology that keeps us talking. And asking.  Which brings us to the reason that
“cheesecake” is the third most requested recipe on the Google hit parade.  As far as I know, no one in my family ever made a cheesecake.  We loved Sara Lee’s (truly) — the one from the freezer case in the supermarket (and I enjoyed eating it frozen!)– and we would venture as often as possible to Junior’s — a New York cheesecake institution.  Over the years, the cheesecake wars included Miss Grimble, Turf, Eileen’s, and Lady Oliver’s (the company of Rachel Hirschfeld, who delivered her velvety cheesecakes to New York’s top restaurants in a white Bentley.)  When I was the chef at Gracie Mansion for Mayor Koch (in 1978!), Turf was the cheesecake we used — I topped it with small strawberries and glazed them with melted currant jelly laced with a bit of Cassis.  When President Jimmy Carter came to visit, I bought a peanut cheesecake enrobed in crackly caramel, from a wonderfully fun restaurant called Once Upon A Stove.  I served it, with a glass of milk, alongside the Carter nightstand on the second floor bedroom.  He enjoyed it tremendously.

Before writing Radically Simple, I, like the other women in my family, never made a cheesecake.  And that’s why I am eternally grateful to Anne Kabo of Margate, New Jersey, who taught me how.  Anne, through a complex family saga, is a relative of sorts and a cherished one at that.  The radically delicious cheesecake recipe that follows belongs to her, as does the lovely photo she took.

A Radically Simple Cheesecake
Anne Kabo, one of the best home bakers I know, created one of the best cheesecakes I’ve had.  The crust doesn’t need to be pre-baked and, compared to most recipes, it is radically simple.  It also freezes beautifully.  You can cover any cracks with shaved white chocolate or simply adorn the cake with ripe berries.

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
5 ounces honey graham crackers
1/2 cup walnuts or pecans
1-1/4 cups sugar
3 extra-large eggs, room temperature
16 ounces cream cheese, broken into pieces
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 tablespoon cornstarch
24 ounces sour cream

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.  Butter a deep 10-inch springform pan with 2 tablespoons of the butter.  Finely crush the graham crackers, nuts, and 1/4 cup sugar in a food processor.  Melt the remaining 4 tablespoons butter; stir into the crumbs until moistened.  Pat the crumbs onto the bottom and 1/2-inch up the side of the pan to form a crust.  Using a standing mixer, beat the eggs for 3 minutes.  Add the cream cheese and mix until smooth, 2 minutes.  Add the remaining 1 cup sugar, vanilla, cornstarch, and 1/4 teaspoon salt.  Beat on high for 2 minutes.  Add the sour cream and beat 1 minute longer.  Pour into the crust.  Bake 50 to 55 minutes until firm. Cool on a rack.  Cover and refrigerate until very cold.  Serves 16

Electric Orange Juice

For years I’ve been hearing about the big, bountiful, beautiful breakfasts at Norma’s:  the hotel dining room at the Parker-Meridien on West 57th Street in New York City.  And while the experience was extremely pleasant and the food very good, the most outstanding part of the story was the orange juice!  At first I thought it was a hustle.  At $9 a glass, what was the deal?   “Who wants juice?” our affable waiter sung out? (He looked a bit like Baryshnikov).  With the grace of a dancer, he began pouring electric-looking orange liquid into three of our four extremely tall glasses.  I declined, and chose instead to have juice for dessert — more about that later.  After 30 minutes, the glasses were filled again, and 10 minutes later…again.  Quickly I calculated that I was now $54 into the check and we hadn’t had anything yet to eat!  Uh-oh, “here he comes again.”  I didn’t want to seem ungracious (I was treating), but finally said, “Sir, uh, um, do you charge for each glass of juice?”   “Oh no,” he said.  “Refills are free.”  Instant relief for me, then curiousity.  Why would they do that?  The juice was extraordinary tasting.  It was though a crate of succulent Honeybells was squeezed into each glass.  While it was the hospitality-equivalent of the unlimited “sweet tea” you encounter in the South, this orange elixir had to cost them a fortune.   The food arrived…a PB&C Waffle ‘Wich (a chocolate waffle with peanut butter and toffee crunch filling), Artychoked Benedict (with truffle porcini sauce), Super Cheesy French Toast (with caramelized onions and applewood smoked bacon), and Normalita’s Huevos Rancheros and…more juice.

As I mentioned, I saved mine for dessert.  One of my most memorable desserts in history was experienced in Barcelona.  At a trendy neighborhood restaurant, chic customers order fresh orange juice for dessert, served in a wine glass and accompanied by a spoon.  How simple, yet brilliant, to end a meal in such a vibrant, palate-cleansing way.   It is especially memorable made with Honeybells (just coming up from Florida now) or with blood oranges.  I call their flavor “nature’s Kool-Aid.”  Either way, it’s an inspired, one-ingredient dessert, that’s hard to beat.

Although breakfast at Norma’s is very expensive (there is even Foie Gras French Toast for $34 and The Zillion Dollar Lobster Frittata for $100), if you do as I did, dessert is free.  I drank the last glass of juice from one of my guests.

A Recipe for Electric Orange Juice

This recipe is one ingredient only.  Each large orange yields about 1/2 cup juice so plan accordingly.  Use navel oranges, Honeybells, or large blood oranges. (At this time of year, it’s delicious to add the juice of two tangerines.)

8 large oranges

Cut oranges in half and juice.  Pour into wine glasses and serve with a spoon.  Serves 4

Odds and Ends

Hope you all had a wonderful New Year’s Day.  Aside from birthdays, and hangovers, and new years wishes, January 1st marks the day in 1943 that my devastatingly handsome father scored the winning touchdown at the Sugar Bowl for the University of Tennessee!  From there he was drafted by the Washington Redskins.  I have the signed football from the Sugar Bowl and the Redskins contract.  My dad was a fullback…and the deal was $5000.00. He didn’t play long however, injuries from the war got the better of him.  But we commemorated New Year’s day with “Tennessee doughnuts” anyway. My dad would buy the biggest yeast-glazed doughnuts he could find and fry them up in a bit of butter in a frying pan, flattening them with a spatula as he went along.  You ate them like pancakes, with a fork and a knife, and let the sugar, and disappointments, melt away.

Yesterday, two requests appeared on my blog for the recipe for the “double-boiler”scrambled eggs that my husband makes me for on New Year’s morning. He wrote it down last night and named it “Voluptuous Scrambled Eggs.”  The recipe is below, along with a photo of the dish just before I devoured it. As you can see, a tiny jar of caviar goes a long way.   The day unfolded with more delicious things to eat:  Jasmine tea and Christmas cookies at the home of close friends who wanted us to see their sparkling Christmas tree before it was disassembled, and then a late afternoon party at the home of “wedding planner to the stars,” Marcy Blum, whose generosity can seriously damage any New Year’s resolutions for moderation.  Quarter-pounder crab cakes, prime rib, and champagne for 80!

Today, my best friend (since we were 13) and her daughter (now a rabbi) are coming to town (from Philadelphia and Durham, NC respectively.)  We are celebrating the end of the holiday with one last feast at Norma’s — the restaurant in the Parker-Meridien Hotel famous for its sumptuous breakfasts.

For tonight we’ll nibble on lettuce.  May this year be a healthy one for all.

VOLUPTUOUS SCRAMBLED EGGS

9 extra-large eggs
1 Tbsp water
2 Tbsp unsalted butter, one of which is cut into small pieces
1 heaping Tbsp goat cheese, cut into small pieces

Put several inches of water into a smallish pot.  Fit a non-stick frying pan to cover the pot.  Or use a proper double-boiler.  Get the water simmering. Beat the eggs and the water together vigorously.

Put one Tbsp butter into the pan and let it melt completely.  Swirl to make sure entire pan is coated.  Add the eggs.  Keep the water at a slow simmer and have patience.  Eventually the eggs will begin to set.  Stir them slowly and gently with a rubber spatula.  As the eggs begin to firm up, add all the pieces of goat cheese and a few small pieces of butter.  Continue stirring and scraping the bottom of the pan.  Add more butter as the eggs get firmer.  Here’s where you need the most patience: The eggs should firm up as slowly as possible, so you may need to turn the flame down – or even remove the pan from the heat of the water for a moment.  When the eggs are just about set – they will be soft and there will be a bit of liquid eggs in the pan — add a pinch of salt and stir until the eggs set to your taste.  To my taste, they should be very soft with a small amount of runny eggs.  Spoon them onto a warm plate.  Serves 2 or 3

Eggnog Notions

Eggnog and Panettone Bread Pudding

I like eggnog.  At this time of year, my friend Katherine pours eggnog, instead of milk, into her morning coffee.  No, not the alcoholic stuff, but the ultra-creamy, thick, organic, rum-flavored variety she gets from a local dairy in Bethesda, Maryland.  As a child, I witnessed the appearance of “the yearly carton” in our refrigerator every December.  My mother, who rarely drank, loved pouring rum (the alcoholic stuff) into a cut-crystal wine glass full of store-bought eggnog and savoring every sip.  This was about the same time we snuggled up and watched “White Christmas” over and over again.  (But hey, come to think of it, my mother’s other favorite drink was a Brandy Alexander — a not-too-distant cousin.)  According to Larousse Gastronomique, where eggnog is referred to by its French name, lait de poule, it is a “nourishing drink served either hot or cold.”  Their recipe: to beat an egg yolk with 1 tablespoon sugar and add a glass of milk, then lace with rum or brandy.  A more interesting version, offered in the Joy of Cooking, has you adding 1/4 cup of cream (instead of the milk), 2 to 4 tablespoons rum, brandy or whisky, and then folding in a stiffly beaten egg white.  In the same book, you can find a recipe for eggnog in quantity, based on a dozen egg yolks, and take it from there (page 64, if you happen to have a copy.)  Two curious things about that recipe:  there is a mention of peach brandy (the book was originally printed in 1931.  Who knew?), and a humorous headnote that no doubt launched the beginning of humorous headnotes in cookbooks.  “Some people like to add a little more spirit to the following recipe,” Irma Rombauer wrote, “remembering Mark Twain’s observation that too much of anything is bad, but too much whisky is just enough.”

But the real reason I write about eggnog today is to tell you how to use commercially-bought eggnog in myriad ways.  I make a one-ingredient “creme anglaise” by merely simmering eggnog until thick and creamy (until it coats the back of a wooden spoon); a wicked pumpkin flan using eggnog as its foundation, and a fabulous panettone bread pudding whose custardy goodness comes from…you-guessed-it.

The following recipe first made its appearance in Recipes 1-2-3, published in 1996.

Eggnog and Panettone Bread Pudding
A winter wonderland kind of dessert, since commercial eggnog appears just in time for the first frost.  You can use a bottled eggnog here, like Mr. Boston, from your liquor store.  This will produce a deliciously “alcoholic” dessert.  Or you can use eggnog that is available in the refrigerated case of your supermarket for a rich and evocative (and non-alcoholic) pudding.  Even the eggnog in the can (I think it’s Borden’s) will do.

8 ounces panettone
3 cups prepared eggnog
2 extra-large eggs

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Cut the panettone into 3/4-inch cubes.  Put them on a baking sheet and toast them lightly in the oven.  Watch carefully.  The panettone should become golden, not brown.  Beat together 2 cups eggnog, eggs, and a pinch of salt using an electric mixer.  Place the toasted panettone cubes in a baking dish that is 9×7 or 8-inches square.  A glass dish is preferable.  Pour  the eggnog mixture over the panettone, pressing down so that the panettone is submerged.  Let sit 15 minutes.  Place the pan in a hot-water bath.  Bake 40 minutes until firm and golden.  Remove from oven and let cool.  Serve at room temperature or cold.   Prepare a sauce using the remaining eggnog:  Put 1 cup eggnog in a small, heavy saucepan.  Bring to a boil, lower heat to simmer and cook, stirring often, until reduced to 1/2 cup and is dark tan in color, about 30 minutes.  Let cool.  Drizzle pudding with sauce.  Serves 6

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

New Year’s Eve Pig Out

I don’t really mean pig out in the sense of the word overindulging, but I do mean the preparation of one of my favorite pork roasts.  Since it requires 18 hours in your oven, it is the perfect dish to serve at the stroke of midnight — at the very same moment that you sing Auld Lang Syne and kiss your partner under the mistletoe.  Instead of shouting “Happy New Year!” however, you may instead scream “Let’s eat!” The vapors streaming from your kitchen at this point will be so intoxicating as to leave all formalities aside and have you rushing to the groaning board (a word whose derivation is most interesting.)  Let’s figure this out and I’m telling you now so you can get the ingredients today.  If you put the pork shoulder in the oven tonight (Thursday, December 30th) at midnight, the irresistibly crackly sphere of meat will be ready for indulging at 8:30 p.m. tomorrow night — Friday, Dec. 31st, the early hours of most New Year’s Eve festivities. That’s fine for many of you who like to eat at a reasonable hour, leaving you enough time to position yourself in front of some fireworks.  For those of you who are glued to your big screen television to watch the ball drop from the center of Times Square in New York City and join the world’s choral countdown, then you’ll need to put the pork in the oven around 4 a.m. (Friday, Dec. 31st).  That could present a problem, or not, but it is no different than what many Americans do on Thanksgiving Day.

I can’t tell you how delicious this pork roast is.  Flavored with fennel and cumin seed, garlic and fresh lemon, the skin becomes so crispy and the pork flesh stays so very moist because of the very low temperature at which it cooks.  There’s a little kick at the end from hot pepper flakes and the whole thing goes amazingly well with champagne, whose celebratory bubbles cut through unctuous succulence and tempers the salinity.  Serve with a pot of oil-slicked bay-scented lentils (good luck in Italy) and a simple arugula salad splashed with balsamic vinegar (and maybe some crumbled blue cheese with pickled red onions!)  A simple carrot puree — for color and contrast — would also be nice.  Crank up the music and bring in the new year on high.

Here’s what you need to do:
18-Hour Pork Shoulder with Fennel, Garlic & Lemon
If you put this in the oven before you go to bed, it will be ready for dinner the next day — all crackly, succulent and irresistible.

10-pound whole pork shoulder, skin on
2 large heads garlic, cloves separated and peeled
3 tablespoons fennel seeds
3 tablespoons cumin seeds
1/2 teaspoon hot pepper flakes
2 lemons

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees.  Make deep slits in the pork skin, about 1 inch apart, going through to the flesh.  Combine the garlic, fennel, cumin, pepper flakes and 2 teaspoons kosher salt in a food processor; process until coarsely ground.  Spread the mixture all over the pork, making sure to pack some into the slits.  Place the pork in a roasting pan.  Roast for 30 minutes.  Squeeze the juice of 1 lemon over the pork and reduce the temperature to 250 degrees.  Bake for 18 hours.  Squeeze the juice of the second lemon over the pork during the last hour of cooking.  When done, the skin will crackle and the flesh will be soft.  Carve into thick or thin slices. Serves 8 (or more)

Happy almost New Year!

Highlights and Food Bites 2010

My favorite place this year--ABC Kitchen

So it’s three nights to the last day of 2010, and what a year it’s been.  Professionally speaking, I published my 12th cookbook Radically Simple (no simple task), wrote numerous articles for Real Food magazine and Bon Appetit; finished the arrangements for the procurement of the Gourmet magazine library and its donation to New York University (in honor of my mother); made a book deal for a close friend, mentored several young women and men in and out, of the industry (one great restaurant cook became a chef for Dean & DeLuca; one young woman working for a food website decided to get her masters in library science instead), continued my responsibilities as culinary consultant to the international consulting group, the Joseph Baum & Michael Whiteman Co., appeared on many national radio programs, and started to blog and tweet! Those are some highlights.

But the real highlights are the personal ones:  an overdue trip to Israel to visit a longtime friend who was chief-of-staff to Prime Minister Begin (I met him when I was chef to Mayor Koch in 1978!); continuing my weekly work as a hospice volunteer (having the privilege of spending time with Frank McCourt before he died), going on several spiritual retreats at the Garrison Institute, ushering my 14-year old daughter to a Justin Bieber concert and waiting 7 hours in the parking lot; ushering that same daughter into 9th grade, making several wonderful new friendships (one with a neighbor who was Bruce Springsteen’s manager, who later wrote the definitive book on the Beatles), strengthening old relationships, learning to meditate (I’m a real beginner), having a holiday meal with my son, Jeremy, at Oceana, hanging out with my brother and his wife in Hoboken (and passing big lines for the Cake Boss on the way to his house), cooking for more friends at home, and celebrating my 23rd wedding anniversary with my own personal cake boss, Michael Whiteman.

And then there are the restaurant highlights:  going on a triptych of clandestine dining reviews with two of New York’s best critics, having an amazing meal in Israel in a tiny restaurant near the market in Jerusalem called Mahane Yehuda, enjoying weekly breakfasts at L’Express and monthly lunches at Barbounia, exciting meals (or dishes) at Oceana, the Standard Grill, 11 Madison, the Breslin, Roberta’s, Lincoln, Van Daag, Zuma in Miami, and even more exciting meals at friends homes including Anne Kabo (in Margate, New Jersey), the second Thanksgiving at the home of Katherine and Alan Miller (in Bethesda), the third Thanksgiving at the home of Geoffrey and Noa Weill, a Passover extravaganza at the home of Robin Shinder and family, a radically simple, yet delicious dinner at the Omskys, and a marvelous meal at the home of Debbie and Larry Freundlich with the legendary editor Judith Jones as a guest.

But hands-down the restaurant highlight of the year for me is…ABC Kitchen at ABC Home in New York City.  Kudos to Jean-Georges’ Vongerichten whose brainchild it was to support a sustainable, green, locavore mission in the most sophisticated way imaginable, and to his awesomely talented executive chef, Dan Kluger.  May Dan get all the attention he deserves in 2011.  More kudos to Paulette Cole and Amy Chender (CEO and COO of ABC Home) whose vision and passion made it possible to do it.

Best dishes of 2010?  Well, that’s a blog for another day.