An Effing Foodie

Dinner in a Twitter: Whole Wheat Mentaiko Spaghetti with Green Beans, Scallions and Egg

Apparently, Twitter is the new bacon.

Attention from the NY Times marks the beginning of the end for any hot fringe-trend, but this cynic was impressed by Lawrence Downes’ endearing article on Twitter recipes.  His effusive exposition of Maureen Evans’ super-spare recipe realm was a welcome tweak on the nose for bored by-the-book cooks and blathering foodbloggers (cough) alike.

Evans' Twitcipes are subtly complex and sophisticated—in 140-character bursts, she makes clear that she’s well-traveled, kitchen-confident, but not cocky.  She’s got no bread handicap (home cook hierarchy is arguably based on the successful domination of yeast), does multi-culti sweets AND savories, and could get a willing participant out of a mac-n-cheese rut quicker than Mark Bittman can warm up.

Downes' headlong energy and Evans' encapsulated charms were downright inspiring. So without further ado, I present to you my Twitcipe debut*:

MentaikoPasta: Boil 1srving WWspghti&7-min egg. Blanch 1hndful grnbeans(cut1"). Slice egg(1/4s)&toss all w/1pckt sauce +slicedscallion&nori.

Oh c’mon.  Don’t act all surprised.  OF COURSE it’s going to have a key ingredient that most of you will find narsty—some of you because mentaiko = pollock/cod roe, others because it’s processed convenience food, and still others because it's Japanese convenience food (hooray, Kewpie!), and therefore uber-unlocal.  All of you can suck it. 

I love mentaiko and tarako in their raw, unadulterated forms...which tend to spoil before I can finish them.  Squeeze-packets of shelf-stable stuff is what I like to keep around for rainy days.  If you want the genuine article, here's a legit recipe from the far classier Chubby Hubby.

While I may lack the understated grace and worldliness of Ms. Evans, I do not lack a nutritive, unami-rich dindin.  Cheers!

*Nope, I don’t have a Twitter account.  I just thought this would be funsies**.

**You know what else is funsies? Watching Maureen "Snarkypants" Dowd get TAKEN DOWN while trying to takedown the founders of Twitter.  This made my day:

[M. Dowd, NYT]: If you were out with a girl and she started twittering about it in the middle, would that be a deal-breaker or a turn-on?
[B. Stone, Twitter founder] (dryly): In the middle of what?

These Are a Few of My Faaavorite Things: Lox Benedict, Avi and David's, NYC

Being workaholic midtown bachelors, The Effing BroBros eat a lot of takeout. SeamlessWeb has a vested interest in keeping the EFB hungry and unwilling to cook.

And anyone who's trolled around on their lunch hour knows, there's a plethora of crap food in Manhattan's ramming-speed midsection.  SeamlessWeb may offer enough midtown delivery choices to make the heartiest glutton blush, but I'd venture to say about 70% is not worth eating, much less getting gouged over.

So, when the BroBros stumble over a restaurant that delivers more than condensation-soaked lies, they're uber-loyal repeat customers.  One Sunday morning fixation of theirs is Avi and David's Kosher Bagels.

(Single-subject-porkaphiles, step off now.  See you soon!)

I know, I know, Avi and David aren't on the consecrated list of what's-what in bagel lingo (i.e. they're not Zabar's or Murray's).  But they are marvelously consistent, with real homemade food that meets the standards of God's Chosen People!

We've been well-pleased by their standard-issue stuff--Challah French Toast with Berries, Bagels-with-a-Schmear--but on a recent lazy Sunday, an Effing BroBro and I opted to branch out and order some house specialties.

We were a little perplexed and mecha-intrigued by the description of "David's Bagel Lox Benedict" ($9.99): Toasted Bagel or Bialy, Nova-Scotia Salmon, Over Easy Egg with Scallion Cream Cheese, Garnished with Bermuda Onion.

Scallion cream cheese AND a oozy egg AND smoked salmon?  It had to be kosher, but it didn't sound kosher.

EF Eats SF (The Cheapies): Pho Tan Hoa, Yank Sing, Dojima-An

There is a lot of justifiable grumbling about the economy nowadays, but one of the fringe benefits is that right now, travel is ridiculously cheap.  And I've never been a gal who can pass up a great value, an excuse to escape, or free shared accommodations from a dear, dear friend.

So, I was off to San Francisco as the roving foodite compass for said dear friend and MILF-y maven, the sweet-toothed Sugar Momma.

Sugar Momma presented a few golden opportunities for an always-ravenous wanderer like myself:

1. She'd never been to SF before (or California, for that matter). 
2. As much as Sugar Momma loves food, there was a laundry list of eats that a gal raised in upstate NY had never tried before. 
3. Sugar Momma is no wuss.  Even if she's sure she'll hate it, she'll still try it.

That in mind, I crammed as many firsts and technicolor noshing into 5 days as any sane pair of chickadees could manage.

Let's start with the cheapies, shall we? 

I found Pho Tan Hoa on Yelp!, and figured it was a good place to pop Sugar Momma's Vietnamese food cherry.  She looked a 'lil worried as I lead her into a vaguely sketchy bit of the Tenderloin in pursuit of lunch, but she relaxed once the harried (but amazingly efficient) proprietor set fragrant bowls of pho and bò kho (Vietnamese beef stew) in front of us.

I know pho is old hat for a lot of you readers, but I was psyched when SM emerged from the bowl with a grin and a thumbs up, unfazed by the thin sheets of rare filet cooking in the piping-hot soup. 

For those of you who haven't had the pleasure of bò kho, it's served with nicely crackly baguettes to sop up the slightly curried, anise-spiked jus as you work through the fall-apart chunks of beef, tendon, and carrots.

And since this was our first meal in SF, I was stupid about pacing, so I got a totally unnecessary order of Summer Rolls as well.  Super-fresh, the soft mung bean wrapper perfectly packaging sliced shrimp, vermicelli, and herb salad, these babies were a great value (four of them to an order, at just-around $5), and SM loved them, so no regrets. 

(Only bloat!)

Another lunch of firsts for Sugar was dim sum at Yank Sing, another find off of Yelp!.  I know, there is dim sum in NY, and some of it ain't half-bad.  But I want to live a life where dim sum is BETTER than ain't-half-bad DAMMIT, and CA will always ROCK the Empire State in this respect.  Check out these soup dumplings (Xiǎolóngbāo):

 

See how sultry-thin those skins are, so skimpy that the whole thing is slumped with soup that you can actually SEE???  GORgeous.  That's how it should be, and I'm glad that Sugar's very first one was a great one, bursting with nuanced soup and a tender pork-and-crab filling.  The black vinegar wasn't even necessary on these gems.

The barbecued pork buns (charsiubao) were a proud example of their kind, sweet-savory steamy treats:

Also toothsome were the crispy-on-the-outside, creamy-on-the-inside, pork-filled taro puffs (woogok) made with a light hand and a properly hot deep fryer (I've had some Gawd-awful greasy ones in NY); the shrimp-and-chive dumplings (gauchoygao) were kind of a non-event.

We managed to save some room for sweets; meet happily gelatinous and creamy mango pudding (before being doused in evaporated milk) and the ragged half of a shamelessly flaky custard tart (dantat):

 

Sometimes, serendipity intervenes--our last budget-minded lunch came from a homey little Japanese joint that I'd noticed one night on the way back to our hotel.

Dojima-An is not unlike places you'd find in the East Village, or even back in Hawaii, and for good reason--the appeal of well-made starch is universal, and Japanese comfort food cures what you didn't even know was ailing you (namely, taste-bud fatigue). 

Sugar Momma scored herself a bowl of hot soba with lacy vegetable tempura:

...and I tucked into udon with stewed chicken, eggs and sauteed onion.  A hug in a bowl!

I love Cali.  Even in a tiny, homey place like this, the quality of the fish was better than it had any right to be.  We each treated ourselves to a piece of spanking-rosy hamachi nigiri (yellowtail tuna), beloved by sushi-snobbypants and sushi-novice alike:

 

Like buttah.  I had to hold back from having sushi for dessert.

Patience, I told myself.  Finite space, and all that!  Tune in next post for the fancier vittles!

(Oh, and if you're keeping score, Sugar Momma has dug everything she's tried so far.  SO proud of her!)

Food Poems: Saying Grace, by EF

Saying Grace

Give me your controlled rot,
ruby-speckled rows of aging
beef, bottles seasoned in dust--
veins branch penicillin-blue
through spring’s milk, a washed-rind
bite that only comes with time.

Give me your unborn--
your unlaid eggs nestled
in the soup hen, tone of topaz
that never saw the sun--

hand me a pearl spoon
of a million yet-to-be sturgeon
massaged through a sieve with
malossol’s touch of salt--

even the inky urchin cracked
in spiky halves will yield
the secrets to her young--briny,
potential-rich, that taste of perpetuation,
of what was to become life.

No one is innocent.
The local August tomato--
God-fearing, luscious red--
that sweetness, those jellied seeds
running down your chin
they weren’t meant for you. 

Repent?  Hardly.  Who are you
to apologize to?  But say thank you,
for Chrissake, and we’re not talking
to God, unless God was a tomato
flushed with pride, grown
by knowing, gnarled hands.