Real Food in Flemington

Every once in a while I get an urge to head to Flemington to the Amish market for a big weekend "dinner." It is one of very few places that serves truly old-fashioned home cooking. Before sitting down at a booth in the unpretentious restaurant (okay, all it has going for it is a large wrap-around mural of PA. Dutch scenes), we stock up on some important items. The farm-raised meats and poultry are gorgeous and it is one of the few places that always has fresh rabbit, guinea hens, capon and duck available. Nice home-made sausages, smoked bacon and cold cuts as well.


The bakery's cakes are unbelieveable, especially the red velvet, and the pies are the best I've found with an excellent crust and not too sweet. We can never leave without one to put in the freezer to have on hand for the right moment. Whoopie pies are also critical. We brought some home for the kids and an extra one for Thibault's freind Laz to try along with a fabulously gooey nut-covered breakfast cake. On several occasions I have stopped by the market on a Saturday morning just as the apple and blueberry fritters are coming out. I can go for years and years without eating a doughnut, but these are to die for. Hot, sweet, fried perfection.



Other absolute must-haves are the pickles, and the Amish seem to pickle everything. Sylvain even tried pickled kielbasa. He said it was very good but I just can't get my mind around that. Generally I don't like sweet pickles as a rule but the lemon pickles are sweet and spicy with a unique flavor that I find addictive. They are not for everyone - Nora can't stand them.

I could go on and on about the hand-made pretzels and potato chips, fresh butter and farm cheeses. And then there is the fact that the market is run and staffed by the Amish. These people and their lifestyle hold such a fascination for the rest of us. A visit always leads to thoughts of the things that fill our lives and the choices we make.

We've been going to the restaurant for probably fifteen years now. The dinner buffet is a more recent addition dating to when the business changed hands several years back. We used to order mostly from the menu. Things like chicken and dumplings, biscuits with sausage gravy (Thibault's favorite), and pulled pork sandwiches. Everything came with sides of home-made potato chips and lemon pickles.

The buffet takes the Amish culinary experience to a new level with choices like slabs of delicious all-beef meatloaf, chicken thighs, chicken with dumplings, sliced pork loin, and turkey breast along with buttered broccoli, buttered sweet corn, buttered carrorts (yes, butter is a reccurrent theme) pureed potatoes, cheesy noodles (our name for them and Nora's favorite), baked beans and more! There also is a salad bar but it is nothing special. In fact we usually just get a big bowl of pickles and ignore the sad ice berg lettuce, grated carrots and trays of things covered in mayonaise. But every once in a while I will grab a pickled egg.

The dessert bar is a trip with a selection of "pudding" and tapioca. The kids' favorite is the eclair pudding. For what I can tell it actually is made of layers of mashed eclairs and choclate pudding. Sylvain loves the tapioca, something I haven't recovered from my childhood memories of. But this tapioca is like no other! Sylvain's choice was bright orange with canned mandarin oranges. I am not even slightly tempted by the puddings but I cannot resist the squares of sheet cake. It doesn't matter what kind is offered. It is very simple and very good. That seems to be the theme here. Simple and good food (that inspires you to eat things that you normally wouldn't).

Eat at Habib's

During the winter break we finally made it to Habib's for a proper meal and it was well worth the wait. It was cold out and we had been roaming the city all morning. I was starting to hear little whiny complaints -something about being tired and bored- when we turned the corner onto Avenue A and the blue sign of Habib's finally materialized ahead! Hafnaoui was there to greet us with his great big smile, full body hugs and much kissing. He is the chef, the owner, the everything of Habib's.

Habib's is a thin sliver of a take out shop filled with great food and delicious scents. It's not far from a couple of my old E.V. haunts. Incredibly the Pyramid is still there though King Tuts disappeared in the early 90s. Tompkins Square Park has certainly come up in the world.

Sadly there were few customers but that allowed us to find seats on four stools at the counter in the back. We grabbed some drinks - bottled NYC water for me was irresistible and everyone wanted to "try" it - and watched while Hafnaoui cooked each of our dishes to order.

Nora was very happy with her marinated chicken with rice and Thibault with his kibbeh appetizer and falafel lunch. I also went for a falafel but with eggplant and hot sauce. It's mouth-watering to even write about it. Must go back...! The falafel patties themselves were crispy on the outside and bright green with fresh parsley on the inside. They had a softer, more moist consistency than any I've had. Sylvain had the combination platter of course. He has a thing about combination platters.

After all of this of course we were quite full but we were there and who knew when we'd be back so we shared a slab of tasty-looking harisa, a semolina cake with coconut and honey, before heading out to the street. Habib's has a huge selection of those incredibly sweet, nutty, honeyed, layered desserts, all made by Hafnaoui. So good! Move over Mamouns...

So check it out. Tell him Elie sent you.

Habib's Place

89 Avenue A (between 5th and 6th)

NYC

(212) 673-5016

Christmas Fare

Christmas was wonderful this year with the whole family present and gathering in various combinations over three days. In my family, a lot of time is spent in the kitchen at this time of the year between cookie-making (and truffle-making for me) and holiday meals. When the moment comes for me to make the truffles I complain about it because it is time-consuming, but when it comes down to it I really do enjoy it. This year Nora was my production partner which made it more fun and go more quickly. I actually considered skipping making the annual Christmas Eve buche de noel this year (horrors!) because it is a two-day affair and the timing of Christmas and the work week complicated things. But I did make it and we enjoyed it on Christmas Day. I am only sorry that Jamie and Huston could not share in it having left a day earlier! As for the other meals, I got off easily compared to Mom - I only had lunch on Christmas Eve at our house. Dinners were at Mom and Dad's.

Dinner on December 23rd

Rosemary Roasted Loin of Pork and Gravy

Mashed Potatoes

Broccoli Cheddar Casserole

Green Salad

...and for dessert (last but clearly not least)....

The Amazing Whoopie Pie Cake from Maine!

Lunch on December 24th

Tossed Ice Berg & Cucumber Salad with Orange Sections and Chick Peas

Smoked Salmon with Honey Mustard

Eggplant Caviar

Calamata Olive Tapendae

Crab Salad

Italian Dry Sausage

Cornichons

Marinated Wild Mushrooms

Chevre, Manchego, Bleu d'Auvergne & Camembert

Assorted Breads

and for dessert

Poached Pears with Chocolate Truffles

Dinner on December 25th

Grilled Steak

Sauteed Mushrooms

Steamed Buttered Green Beans

"Noodle Poodle Pudding"

Carrot & Rutabaga Puree

Green Salad

and for dessert

Buche de Noel au Chocolat!

Sweet Sixteen on Curry Row

Thibault is beyond birthday parties and has literally outgrown sleepovers with friends in the playroom. We have entered the era of celebrating birthdays by eating out with his friends. This year his choice was Indian and he loved the idea of heading into the city on a Saturday night. A light snow had just started falling as we made the rounds picking up Danielle, then Laura and finally “Laz” before heading to New York. Thoughtful sweet sixteen birthday gifts included a "chrome" trophy emblazoned with “Pimp of the Year” that plays a rap song. I am told that the meaning has evolved over the years and now just means “cool.” Hmmm. We listened to a CD that Thibault had burned for the occasion, enjoying everything from Bob Marley to Notorious B.I.G. Pimptastic.

Dinner was at Mitali East on 6^th Street – where else would I risk eating out in such company and where else could we get away with dinner for six for under $150? Truly we could have been at any of the string of restaurants that still line the street and for us it was good, satisfying fare. But for T’s uninitiated friends, it was their first taste of the truly exotic and hopefully an experience that opened by a small crack not just palates but all of the senses.

They started with peppery pappadams and the usual assortment of chutneys then moved on through platters of appetizers and breads followed by a selection of relatively safe main courses (vegetable korma, saag panir, chicken curry, etc.) all washed own with lots and lots of Coke. From what I could tell, the boys ate voraciously and the girls nibbled a bit of everything but filled up on breads and rice. And all of them seemed to thoroughly enjoy the the novelty of a NYC dining experience.

For dessert we headed over to Hafnaoui’s take-out shop, Habib’s Place, a short walk east to Avenue A. As luck would have it, Hafnaoui had just pulled a fresh batch of desserts from the oven. The kids devoured at least three different versions of sticky, sweet and still warm backlava to sustain them for the ride back to NJ!

http://www.villagevoice.com/locations/habibs-place-513113/
http://nymag.com/listings/restaurant/mitali-east/menus/main.html

Thanksgiving Reunion

Every other year we head out to Bridgehampton to celebrate Thanksgiving with Mom’s side of the family – all of the descendants of Woo Woo and Faddie. This year we gained Jamie back from many years away and Jeremy back from Europe plus the newest arrival, baby Reese, but missed Clara and her clan for a final total of 30 people from age 77 to 11 months.

Growing up, the nine cousins spent every Christmas and Easter together and many, many weeks in the summer. Eva was the cool eldest cousin who we all looked up to and admired awe-struck. For a while I was fortunate enough to inherit her 60's era hand-me-downs. I still remember my 5th grade favorites – a pair of hot pink checked elephant bells - perfect worn with a body suit, my belt with a pattern of doves and peace signs and my Indian beaded hair band. Billy was next and closest to me in age and a great friend – with a personality that was larger than life, he was funny, loyal and unpredictable in an exciting way. Then came the inseparable threesome of Busy, Jean and Jamie, followed by Clara and Johnny and finally Jeremy, the beloved youngest.

Early mornings in the summer I went with Dad to the beach with the dogs. On our way home we would stop to explore new houses under construction before the workers arrived. Rainy days were for going out in the car to look for things to sketch, working on jigsaw puzzles and of course, visiting the whaling museum. Sunny days were spent at the beach club under groupings of yellow and white umbrellas tanning, eating sandwiches and riding waves for hours. When we were older we biked into Bridgehampton to look at nudie magazines at White’s Pharmacy or snuck across the street to explore the “spooky house”, an abandoned Victorian in the swamp that inspired Charles Adams’ Adams Family home. Evenings were for cards and games of “ghost in the graveyard.” Television was not an option until the 80’s.

Thanksgiving dinner started with cocktails and hors d’oeuvres at the “Big House”. Busy brought a gorgeous crudités platter of peppers, blanched snow peas and asparagus, carrots, cucumbers, and jicama with a good garlicky dip, salsa and guacamole with corn chips, and a platter of huge shrimp with a choice of sauces. Aunt Sara Jane made her famous Gorgonzola cheese ball with crackers. To drink there was sparkling cider, Saranac beer, Italian Prosecco, white Burgundy and Pinot Noir.

At dinner time we headed up to the cottage which had been cleared of all furniture and filled with long rectangular tables decorated with mini pumpkins, rose hips, evergreens and votive candles. Each family brought a turkey and various side dishes. Ours was a simple 25-pound bird filled with onions and herbs and stuffed generously under the skin with sweet butter and sage leaves. Mom made steamed green beans and a carrot-rutabaga purée, and I made my Brussels sprouts with butter, mustard, bacon and pine nuts. Mom and I also made a huge dish of stuffing flavored with sautéed mushrooms, onion, leeks, celery, butter and herbs and two different cranberry relishes. Eva brought her famous spicy and succulent blackened Southwestern turkey, cornbread dressing and roasted vegetables. Jen and John made an incredible southern sweet potato and potato gratin baked in butter, heavy cream and cheese.

For dessert we had three pies from the St. John on the Mountain Youth Group's bake sale (pecan, pumpkin and apple) and three from Breadzilla in Wainscott (mince, pear and cherry). These were accompanied by Ben and Jerry’s Vanilla and Dulce de Leche ice cream. I really didn’t have room for more but felt I should force down a thin slice of pecan and another of pear. Yum! For breakfast I tried the mince (vegetarian version – no suet!) and was pleasantly surprised to find that I liked that which I had shunned for half a lifetime.

Now that Woo Woo and Faddie are gone, the cousins are grown and dispersed up and down the East Coast with families of their own, and the summer months are now portioned out equitably, Thanksgiving has become the only time that we gather as one group. The three branches of the family have always been quite different, but each of my cousins has carved out a meaningful life in his or her own way. What we will always share is a deeply-rooted commitment and connection to family.

The Best Brussels Sprouts

As usual, all measurements are approximate and can be adjusted to taste.

Two stalks of Brussels sprouts

3-4 Tbs. sweet butter

2 Tbs. stone ground mustard

5 strips of thick, smoked bacon sliced cross-wise 1/2" wide

1/2 cup pine nuts, toasted in a skillet until browned.

Snap the Brussels sprouts off the stalks and soak the guys in a sink or bowl of cold water to remove any grit. Trim the stems and cut a small, shallow "x" in the bottom of the medium and large ones. Boil on the stove in a large pot of salted water to desired doneness. Toast the pine nuts in a skillet until lightly browned and set aside. Cook the bacon until crisp and drain on paper towels. Melt the butter on the stove over low heat, then remove and stir in the mustard. Drain the Brussels sprouts and then return them to the pot with all of the other ingredients. Salt and pepper to taste and serve! Serves ten people who really like the stuff.

Fall Perfection

When did the whole corn maze thing take off? It has certainly gotten out of hand. We shudder each time we pass Alstede's in Chester where hundreds upon hundreds of cars are parked and many more people are swarming around the moon bounce, the "petting" area where they buy grain to feed to cows, horses and llamas, line up for the hay ride to the pumpkin patch and THE MAZE. That said, it sure is a brilliant source of income for farmers and who can blame them, especially those who choose to farm in the Garden State? Not I.

In Ringoes there is a maze in the form of a train that one gets to by taking a ride on an actual train. Also in Chester, there is an election year maze that spells out VOTE 08. Apparently they hand out election info at various points within. Never mind that the mazes could be spelling out anything they want - the visitor has no way of knowing on the ground. Add that to the list of things that make Amercians just plain stupid. Sorry. I'm a little down on "my fellow Amercians" right now.

The lone exception to this insanity happens to take place right on Mom and Dad's farm in Mendham. "Frank the Farmer" decided to get a piece of the farm maze action a few years back but he does it the old fashioned way (if there is such a thing in where corn mazes are concerned). In the front field he has a big, wide hay bale pyramid for climbing and a long, dark hay tunnel for the little ones. His tractor pulls the hay wagon around and up to the back field all day long arriving at a beautiful corn maze on the top of the hill that doesn't spell anything at all.

Frank does not map out an elaborate route with a computer program resulting in a clever image to be promoted through aerial images on direct mail pieces. When corn maze season arrives, he heads into the field with a machete and starts slicing out a path. He also has impressive pick your own pumkin and gourd patches. We picked up nice goose neck and turban squash, a creamy white pumkin and a cool, green apple-shaped gourd, but he also has long, snaky 3-foot gourds and odd pumkins that look like they have a bad case of leprosy or worse. While we enjoyed the sunny day perusing the gourd patch and chatting with friends, the girls spent over an hour running the maze above.

What does any of this have to do with food you may ask. I could stretch it and describe the caramel apple I watched Joe eating for a while but the real answer is nothing. It was just part of a great fall day at Mom and Dad's that started by dividing and digging plants in Mom's extensive perennial gardens with Clara, followed by a walk through the back field towards the stream. The blue sky, warm sun and brilliant folliage were fall perfection. Then there was lunch! Tomato and mozarella salad, red cabbage cole slaw, the last corn on the cob of the summer and grilled Griggstown turkey burgers and sausages served with Cousin Frannie's Relish and all enjoyed on the terrace. Delicious. For dessert Celia and Maeve had helped Datu make carrot cake in early celebration of Clara's birthday next week. Thibault and Celia took generous charge of the icing. Yum.

My Red Cabbage Slaw (it's just as good with green cabbage)

1 large or 2 small cabbages (about 2 pounds)

3-4 carrots, peeled and grated

1 small sweet red pepper, sliced or diced

3 scallions, sliced

3 Tbs. chopped Italian parsley

Dressing:

1 cup vegetable oil

1/4 granulated sugar (I use natural cane)

1/3 cup white vinegar

1 Tbs. stone ground mustard

1 Tbs. celery seeds

1 tsp. salt

grindings of black pepper to taste

Cut cabbage into quarters lengthwise. Cut out cores and slice as finely as possible crosswise. Place in a large bowl. Prepare and add other veggies.

To make the dressing, combine the remaining ingredients in another bowl. Add to the cabbage and toss with clean hands. Store in fridge. The longer it sits the better it tastes.

http://www.griggstownquailfarm.com/

The Poetry of Pizza

sweet margareta
dreamy taste of summer, smoke
much exclamation!

So I'm no poet. Here's one by Billy Collins who inspired my own attempt. He mentioned that about one in thirty haiku are successful. This is one of his:

Awake in the dark—
so that is how rain sounds
on a magnolia.

It's okay but does it mention Nomad Pizza? No.

Jamie drove down to join me at the Dodge Poetry Festival on Saturday and we spent the afternoon and most of the evening listening to readings (and a storyteller) with hundreds of other pilgrims at Waterloo Village. It was inspiring and exciting to see the breadth and talent of those who practice this art form.

Poetry nourished our souls that afternoon and left us with ravenous appetites for the evening line up under the big top. And we were hungry. Barbara had told of the amazing brick oven pizza truck at the festival this year and we found it, a modified '49 REO Speedwagon (Dad, are you reading this?), shoe-horned between jerk BBQ, deep-fried oreos, funnel cake and corn dogs.




What a sight! There actually is a brick oven built into the truck with a roaring wood fire inside. There was a long line but it moved along nicely as pizzas were pushed in and pulled out with surprising speed. Once inside, the thin dough puffed up and baked quickly, emerging lightly charred. These were beautiful pies! Of the two types offered we chose Margareta over pepperoni. Each flavorful bite contained the taste of fresh tomatoes, basil and the woodsy light-as-air crust.

This is pizza that leaves one with the feeling that all is well in the world. Just for a moment.

Artichoke by Robin Robertson

The nubbed leaves

come away

in a tease of green, thinning

down to the membrane:

the quick, purpled

beginnings of the male.

Then the slow hairs of the heart:

the choke that guards its trophy,

its vegetable goblet.

The meat of it lies,

displayed

up-ended, al-dente,

the stub-root aching in its oil.

http://www.dodgepoetry.org/
http://www.nomadpizzaco.com/