Chef Kaldrovich had an interesting journey from his homeland of Argentina to the outskirts of Portland, Maine. If I remember the story correctly, he was born in Russia to a German father and Italian mother, grew up in Argentina, and worked in Argentina, Patagonia, Australia, and Lake Tahoe, where he met his future wife. When he attended a French culinary school in Argentina, he was introduced to the wonders of seafood. As he put it, the word “scallop” in Argentina brings to mind “a picture of the shell,” not the mollusk itself. He heard of lobster thermidor for the very first time and became acquainted with seafood cuisine. Then, while working at Lake Tahoe, he worked with Maine lobster, Maine shrimp, and other seafood that came from Maine, and he fell in love with it all. So, when he and his wife talked about where they wanted to live, Maine seemed the logical choice.

And, so, the menu that he presented at the James Beard House was a seafood menu infused with Argentinean influence. His roots show, even through ingredients that were not part of his world view while he was growing up.

I told him that I have roots in Argentina as well, in a roundabout way. My parents lived there for a number of years and my brother was born there. They didn’t come to the U.S. until he was about 6 years old. Consequently, my mother’s food was always Italian (of course) but accented with Argentinean preparations. Chef Kaldrovich said that Argentinean cuisine is partly Italian, anyway. That is true.

Lobster Empanada

While I am, admittedly, not the biggest seafood fan, I am fascinated by Argentinean cuisine, mostly because I ate it growing up without really knowing that I was eating it. It’s a lot like the way I enjoy picking out the Spanish words/phrases from the language I spoke at home—I had always just assumed was pure Italian, but after I took Spanish in school, I began to realize that what we spoke was actually more like “Italglish”—Italian, English, and Spanish. When I began doing research on Italian cuisine for my first cookbook, What, No Meat? Traditional Italian Cooking the Vegetarian Way, and international cuisines for my second book (not out yet), I saw the Argentinean influence in my mother’s cooking. I now enjoy picking out the Argentinean dishes and ingredients from the food I ate, which I assumed was purely Italian.

His Corn–Lobster Empanadas were delectable, and his lobster bisque was visually appealing with the squirt of lobster oil on top. The Malbec mustard was a condiment that I coveted (I’ll have to work on a recipe for that). He also made a vegetarian version of the Slow-Braised Beef Tripe Stew because he had received ahead of time a request for a couple of vegetarian plates (although, it became a chaotic string of last-minute requests for no dairy, no garlic, no fish). I tried it and it reminded me of a stew that seems to be universal around the world, differing in spices. The squash and the garbanzos and beans reminded me of North African Squash Stew, as well as Italian Squash and Bean Stew. It was beautiful to look at, but it also had a comforting, homey quality to it.

Personality-wise, I found Chef Kaldrovich to be really nice and he obviously loves what he does and loves being in the kitchen. And I think he loves to make his crew smile.

Bread Pudding

Here is the full menu, along with the wines that were served. More photos HERE:

Hors d’Oeuvre

Oysters
Lobster Bisque
Poultry Liver Crostini
Corn–Lobster Empanadas
Maine Crab and Apples on Endive
Il Faggeto Prosecco NV

Dinner

Fern Hill Farm Goat Cheese Croquette with Beet Tartare

Butter-Poached Lobster and Tender Gnocchi with Baby Turnips, Chantenay Carrots, and Tarragon Beurre Monté
Manos Negras Torrontés 2010

Slow-Braised Beef Tripe Stew with Pork Belly Confit, Sugar Pumpkin, Garbanzo and White Beans, and Sofrito
Lake Sonoma Winery Chardonnay 2010

Serrano-Wrapped Salmon Roast with Grilled Leek–Seaweed Stuffing, Confit Roots, Organic Quinoa, and Malbec Mustard
MacMurray Ranch Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir 2009

Gaucho Mixed Grill > Grilled Dry-Aged Beef Strip Steak with Chimichurri, Herb-Roasted Sweetbreads with Balsamic Syrup, and Housemade Sausage with Salsa Criolla
Crios de Susana Balbo Malbec 2009

Caramelized Chocolate Bread Pudding with Dulce de Leche Gelato, Hazelnut Brittle, and Espresso Chantilly
Churchill’s 20-Year-Old Tawny Porto NV

Peanuts have been produced in the town of Pelion for more than a hundred years and after the peanuts were harvested in the fall,  peanut-boils were held throughout the town.   Today, they continue this tradition with a festival.

The Peanut Party takes place August 12 & 13, 2011
Friday; 5a.m.-11p.m.; Sat. 8a.m.-11p.m.
at 951 Pine St. Pelion Sc 29123; Pelion Community Center. Across from the fire station and next door to Shumpert’s IGA.

No gate fees. Palmetto Amusement Ride costs: armbands ($15).

Events and Attractions:

Blessing of the Peanut Pots
Amusement Rides
Concessions
Arts and Crafts
“Peanutty” Cooking Contest
Library Book Sale
Peanut Party Parade
Softball Tournament
PB&J Eating Contest
Dance Techniques Troupe
Live Music
Peanuts Your Way Tent

I’m interested in that last one. The possibilities are endless.

I won’t be there but if you are, let me know how it goes.

St. Patrick’s Day is over a thousand years old, but Americans tend to commemorate the day with lots of food and alcohol. The holiday honors the 5th-century Brit who brought Christianity to Ireland, so because of its religious overtones and solemn occasion, the only treat allowed then was bacon and cabbage, because Lenten prohibitions on meat were waived on this day. Food was so not really a part of the tradition of this holiday that up ’til the 1970s Irish pubs were closed on the day, by law.

But the holiday acquired its more celebratory tone in the US. Irish immigrants started expressing their patriotism in 1762 with parades and parties. Initially shunned by non-Irish (probably fueled by a bit of bigotry), the number of Americans with Irish roots created a 20th-century surge among Irish Americans.

Authentic Irish spreads would include soda bread and stew, and though a few first-generation immigrants clung to the bacon and cabbage thing (updated to include corned beef, which was cheaper and sold by their Jewish neighbors in New York’s Lower East Side), the foods of choice were almost universally green. The struggle to find safe food dyes is a whole other story.

So if you join in on St. Patrick’s Day — even if you’re not Irish — have fun!

H/T slashfoods

Some people really get into it, as you can see:

Chicago, St. Patrick’s Day

This time, I was visiting friends in Alabama, and here’s my foodie report.

The most important thing is that I got to go to a Waffle House just in time for National Waffle Week, September 5 – 11. This was serendipitous, as I had never been to a Waffle House (gasp) and I didn’t know it was National Waffle Week. I only found out about it because I went there for breakfast one morning and saw a poster advertising the “limited time only” special.

As for never having been to a Waffle House, I knew that this was a Southern experience that is considered a rite of passage for all Americans. During my last trip to the South, I did not have the opportunity to go to one, so it was on my “must” list this time around.

In honor of National Waffle Week, Waffle House was offering Apple-Cinnamon Oat Waffles! Now, if that isn’t an invitation to go have waffles, I don’t know what is. They were great. I could taste the apples and the cinnamon, but neither was overwhelming. The waffles had just enough of each. And the oat flour gave them a bit of a nutty edge (There may even have been oat pieces in there, but I’m not sure.) They were a really nice treat for a vacation. Remember, you can still have them through Saturday, so hurry.

Okay, enough about waffles. Onto butterbeans. On the 3^rd and 4^th, the town of Pinson, in the greater Birmingham area, held its 5^th annual Butterbean Festival. It was your basic street fare, with food, crafts, merchants, and kiddie rides (including a couple of camels—I don’t know how I feel about that). Considering that it was a butterbean festival, I expected butterbeans to be more prevalent than they were; however, I had a pretty delicious bowl of baked butterbeans and washed it down with freshly made lemonade and chased it with peanut butter ice cream dots (that’s the subject of another blog). But the biggest news to come out of the Pinson Butterbean Festival is that they set a Guinness World Record…for the biggest pot of baked beans! That’s right, they had a big ol’ pot of beans cooking on an elevated platform, where spectators could come and take a peek. That pot o’ beans made history. The pot contained 1,010.65 gallons of butterbeans, which they then sold to the public. And I got to see it and eat it! Wooo! Here’s the story at Guinness World Records:

and here’s some MORE:

Golden Flakes brand of snack foods is based in Birmingham, and their tag line is “The South’s Original Potato Chip.” Established in the 1920s, Golden Flake became a staple snack of Alabama when the company was purchased by Paul “Bear” Bryant, the head football coach for the University of Alabama’s football team, the Crimson Tide. While I was browsing the gift shop at the Union Station in Montgomery, I spotted Golden Flakes dill pickle potato chips. As I found this an unusual flavor, I, of course, had to try it. Well, what can I say? They tasted like dill pickles. Um, I guess if you love dill pickles, you’ll like these. Or maybe not. I’m not sure. I didn’t get the chance to try other Golden Flake flavors or products, but it gives me something to look forward to.

We’ve all heard about the South’s trademark fried green tomatoes, but did you know about its fried string beans? I didn’t. I do now, and I can even say that I tried them. You can pretty much fry anything and it will taste good, and string beans are no exception. They were really good, especially dipped in the jalapeno dressing they came with at the restaurant where I ate them. (It is a mark of shame upon me that I didn’t have any fried green tomatoes. Next time.)

And, finally, there was my visit to Priester’s Pecan factory. It’s basically like a Cracker Barrel restaurant—porch and rocking chairs included—except that it features pecan products. Downstairs are the pecan shop, gift shop, and restaurant. You can get food and treats like ice cream, but unlike Cracker Barrel, this is set up buffet style and the choices don’t even come close. But what does it matter? You’re there for the pecans! I always pick up a bag of pecans or pecan pieces when I’m in the South because they’re so much cheaper there than elsewhere. I got myself a 5-pound bag of pieces for about $30 ($6 per lb.). That’s a great deal considering that I often have to pay twice that much or more ($12 to $16 per lb.). I once paid $18/lb. at a candy shop. I wised up and started buying in bulk online. But while I’m in the South, I buy some there and I’m good for a year (keep them refrigerated or frozen if you buy in bulk). You can tour the factory from upstairs and watch as the staff make various products below, from pralines to pies to candy. And to top it all off, you can sample the goodies in the store. On my trip, I tried honey-glazed, cinnamon, key lime (wow! on that one), and peach pecans, pecan divinity, and other yummies. (They also have a Georgia location.) I was left with only one question: Is it PEE-cans or Pah-CAHNS?

So, that was my culinary adventure in Alabama. Since I’ve gotten back, I haven’t been able to get THAT song out of my head. I want to share my insanity with you, so I’ll say ciao until next week and leave you with these immortal words from Lynard Skynard:

Sweet home Alabama
Where the skies are so blue
Sweet Home Alabama
Lord, I’m coming home to you

I’m very pleased to introduce my second guest blogger this week. Her name is Mary Griggs and she has an awesome food blog―very cleverly called Mouth Brothels―where she talks about all things food-related (a woman after my own heart) and offers fabulous restaurant reviews. She’s done me the honor of writing something up, so let’s get to it. Here’s Mary with her blog (and recipes) on grits.

Grits

I want to thank Roberta for this opportunity to guest blog for her. My topic is a quintessential American food―grits.  Made from hominy (the dry kernel of corn after the hull and germ have been removed), they were actually one of the first foods given by the Native Americans to the European colonists.

The difference between grits and polenta comes from the type of cornstarch

Photo by Ernesto Andrade

in the kernel. Grits are made from dent corn, while polenta comes from flint corn. This New World crop arrived in Italy during the 16^th century. Because corn was plentiful and cheap, treasure hunters used flint corn meal in the hold of their ships to hide gold from pirates on the high seas. It is believed that, during a famine, people in Spain, Portugal and Italy began using the packing material for food. What began as desperation rations later became part of the cuisine.

Grits aren’t just for breakfast, although nothing beats some creamy grits to start the day. No, this dish is a good accompaniment to the main course, whether it is animal, vegetable or seafood.

Here is a basic recipe for grits and one of the best ways to enjoy grits at dinner. For the best flavor, always use old-fashioned and NOT quick-cooking grits.

Creamy Grits

3 cups milk
3 cups heavy cream or half & half or water
1 cup old-fashioned grits
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Place the milk and cream in a 3-quart saucepan. Turn heat to medium-high and slowly whisk in the grits. Continue stirring while the liquid comes to a boil. When the grits begin to bubble, turn the heat down to medium-low and simmer, stirring frequently with a wooden spoon. Allow to cook for 10 to 15 minutes, until the mixture is smooth and thick. Remove from heat and stir in the butter. Season with salt and pepper.

Mushroom Grillades (pronounced gree-odds)

2 tablespoons plus 1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 lb Portobello mushrooms, sliced and stems removed
1/2 lb shiitake mushrooms, sliced and stems removed
1/2 lb button mushrooms, sliced and stems removed
1 T Creole Seasoning
Salt and pepper
1/2 cup flour
1 large onion, chopped
1 bell pepper, chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped
1 bunch green onions, chopped with white and green parts divided
3 large cloves garlic, minced
1 14.5-ounce can diced tomatoes
2 cups mushroom stock or water
1/2 cup red wine
Salt, freshly ground pepper and Creole seasoning to taste
2 bay leaves
1/2 teaspoon thyme
Few dashes Tabasco
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
1/4 cup chopped fresh flat-leafed parsley

Mushroom stock:

Place mushroom stems in a pot with 4 cups water. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer for 25 to 30 minutes. Remove stems and reduce liquid by half. You should have about 2 cups of mushroom stock.

Heat 2 tablespoons oil in a large, heavy Dutch oven—cast iron is best. Rinse mushrooms and sprinkle with Creole seasoning. Saute mushrooms with salt and pepper until liquid has been released. Remove from pot. Add 1/2 cup of oil to pot and stir in flour to make a roux. Stir constantly over medium heat until roux is dark brown but not burned―takes at least 20 minutes. Immediately add onion, bell pepper, celery and white part of green onions. Reduce heat and cook for a few minutes, stirring. Add garlic, cook for another minute. Add mushrooms and then stir in tomatoes, stock and wine. Add remainder of ingredients except green onion tops and parsley and stir well. Simmer, covered, about 1 and 1/2 to 2 hours, stirring occasionally. When finished, add 1/4 cup green onion tops and parsley. Serve over grits.

I hope you enjoy these recipes and start to make grits a regular player at the table.

Bon Temps et Bon Appetit!

Check out my restaurant and food blog at:  Mouth Brothels

My website is: www.marygriggs.com

If you’ve stopped by before, you know I’ve written many times about traveling and eating.  Last week, I said that for a foodie, traveling is not just about visiting historical sites and such, but it’s a also a culinary adventure. That was amusingly proven to me this week.

A friend of mine visited me from Idaho this week. When I found out that she wanted to come to New York to attend an event, I offered to put her up. Well, the first thing she said (after “yes”) was, “I’m dying for a cannoli.” Well, how could I not laugh? I mean, of all things, a cannoli? And that’s all I heard for the next few weeks. Cannoli.

The fact of the matter is, you can’t get everything everywhere. You have to go to certain places to get certain things. That’s nothing new—we all know that. But when someone visits your neck of the woods, it really serves as a reminder that we shouldn’t take the things we enjoy for granted. You all in the South serve up legendary barbecue.  Maryland is known for the best crab cakes in the country. Roasted green chiles rule supreme in New Mexico. And why would you get peach pie from anywhere but Georgia?

Where Italian specialties are concerned, I grew up surrounded by them, and although the Italian community in Brooklyn is not as vast as it once was, it’s still not that difficult to get the things that have always been a part of my life (we’ll see how much longer that lasts). Now, back to the cannoli.

I knew right away where I would send her for one. I jotted down some information about things to do while she was here, how to get there, and directions to the bakery where she would get her longed-for cannoli. But did she listen to me? Noooo. Instead, she went to Park Slope and got a cannoli from a Chinese bakery. There are two things wrong with that:  She bought it outside of the Italian neighborhoods and… need I explain the other thing? The cannoli was so awful that she gave it to the birds.

The next day, she stopped at the bakery I told her to go to…and had the best cannoli she’d ever had. She even got tips from a local patron about the kinds of pastries she should try (“You should really try a lobster tail.”). Anyway, she enjoyed the cannoli so much that she bought half a dozen to bring back to her kids the next day. First, though, this box of cannoli took a trip across the Brooklyn Bridge in my friend’s backpack. Fortunately, it was cool enough that spoilage was not a concern. The real concern was if they’d survived the sojourn. They did. There was only one casualty. But the real test was whether they would make it all the way back to Idaho, through four airports and much jostling. Apparently, they made it. And whatever damage there may have been, it didn’t matter—I got word that every last crumb and dollop of cream was devoured.

For those of you who don’t know what a cannoli is, it’s a pastry dough shell shaped into a tube and filled with cream. Special cannoli tubes are used to shape the shells and, traditionally, the shells are deep-fried in lard; however, very hot oil is sometimes used instead.  The cream is usually cannoli cream, made with ricotta, sugar, and maybe vanilla extract, and you’ll often find candied fruit or chocolate chips in them. Sometimes the shell is coated in chocolate, too. The final touches on cannoli can be powdered sugar,  maraschino cherries, chocolate chips, or nothing at all. For anyone who’s interested at trying their hand at making them, there’s a recipe in my cookbook, What, No Meat?

Anyway, my point is, when you go somewhere, seek out the local specialties because as much as global commerce and cuisine have pervaded, the best of something can usually only be had in one place or region. And I’m always on the lookout for the best. And always listen to the locals when they tell you where the best is. They know what they’re talking about.

Until next week, have a healthy and happy week.

Shari Warren print, available at allpostersc.om (http://www.allposters.com/-sp/Cannoli-Posters_i1107150_.htm)

If you ever find yourself in Boulder, CO, consider a tour of the Celestial Seasonings factory. Yes, the tea company.

It’s as simple as walking in asking for the tour. It’s free, and you can’t ask for more than that to kill an hour. Your ticket for the tour will be a Celestial Seasonings tea packet (mine was Lemon Zinger). There, in the tour center, you’ll find various displays, such as a dress made of CS tea packets, a collection of artistic teapots—some whimsical, some reverent of the tea leaf—and artwork. Here is where the CS Cafe is as well. You can purchase any of their specialty drinks and prepared foods, but you can also sample several varieties of tea absolutely free. The day I was there, I sampled warm Sleepytime Green Lemon Jasmine Decaf (yum), Safari Spice Rooibos Tea (spicy), Goji Berry Pomegranate (fruity and sweet), and their new Sleepytime Vanilla (light with just a hint of vanilla flavor). Over on the chilled side were Raspberry Sweet Zinger and Acai Mango Sweet Zinger, both  refreshing and quite tasty.

While you’re sipping away, you can read a little of the history of the company on one of the walls. Right below that is the actual sewing machine used to sew muslin tea bags (for loose bulk tea) in 1969.

Speaking of history, here’s a condensed timeline for Celestial Seasonings:

1968—CS is founded by Mo and Peggy Siegel, Wyck Hay, and Lucinda Ziesing, who picked their own herbs in the Rocky Mountains.

1970—The first CS production factory opens in Boulder, CO.

1982—CS is included in the top 100 companies to work for in America.

2000—CS merges with Hain Food Group and is now called Hain Celestial Group. This group includes numerous natural/organic food and personal care product lines, such as Arrowhead Mills, DeBoles pasta, Earth’s Best, Spectrum, Garden of Eatin’, Avalon Organics, Alba Botanica, and others.

2005—CS welcomes its one millionth visitor to its tour center.

The actual tour starts with a 15-minute video that explains (briefly) the history of tea and Celestial Seasonings, and the manufacturing process of CS. Next, you’re taken into the factory (after donning very sexy hair nets and, if needed, beard nets) to view how it all happens. The tour guide takes you through the tea and botanicals storage area and explains what tea is how they make their blends. And you’ll learn a few things about tea in general. For example—

* Black tea has the most caffeine, while green tea has the least (white tea is somewhere in between).
*Rooibos is not technically a tea because it isn’t related to the tea family.
*Herbal teas are not really teas, either. Any “real” tea will have caffeine in it.
*”Pekoe” means “tea leaf” and “orange pekoe” is just another term for black tea (according to my tour guide, it’s the English classification of black tea).

What you will notice is that as you move from area to area, just feet from each other, you are met with different aromas, setting off different olfactory experiences. The most dramatic of these will occur in the mint room. A door is raised and the second you step in, you are hit with the unmistakable aroma of peppermint and wintergreen. It’s quite fascinating because of the immediate ocular and nasal reactions—your eyes water and your nose starts to clear with that familiar cool sensation that comes from mint. It was much like inhaling a menthol stick (you know, the kind your mother used to make you inhale when you were sick). But it’s not at all unpleasant. In fact, there’s a soothing, relaxing quality to it (but if you’re allergic to mint or having breathing problems, you might want to stay out of that room).

It always fascinates me to watch products being assemble, packaged, and pushed down a series of machines and this time was no exception.They package 350 boxes of tea per minute on each line and make 10 million tea bags per day. I find that amazing. I’m provincial that way.

Best of all, CS produces its products with sustainable, earth-friendly, and farmer-friendly practices. They commission original artwork for each of their boxes and use low-impact packaging. Actually, the best part is all the yummy flavors they produce. You can purchase all their varieties (and other products) in their tea shop at the end of the tour at lower cost than elsewhere. (If you have trouble sleeping, you might want to try Sleepytime Extra, which contains valerian root. I tried it and it seemed to help with my insomnia.)

Interesting Tidbit: According the Guiness World Records, the largest tea bag was made by Celestial Seasonings. It weighed 48 kg (106 lbs) and was displayed at the Celestial Seasonings Tea Party in Toronto on December 15, 2007. They have the certificate on the wall to prove it.

The Celestial Seasonings factory and tour center is at 4600 Sleepytime Drive (cute, right?), Boulder, CO 80301. Tours depart hourly every day, 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Mon-Sat and 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. Sun. For safety reasons, children under the age of 5 are not permitted in the factory. And you can have breakfast or lunch Mon-Fri. Visit www.celestialseasonings.com. For information and reservations (for groups of 8 or more), call 303-581-1202.

Okay, gang. That’s it for this week. Hope you all have a great week ahead. And if things get stressy, brew a pot of Tension Tamer. Relax and enjoy.

Peace.

Okay, let’s get into it.

Recently, I had a friend visit me from out of town. She wanted to visit the Tenement Museum on the Lower East Side. That area of Manhattan is steeped in immigrant history and the Tenement Museum on Orchard Street brings visitors back to a time of really brutal living, before housing laws and the provision by landlords of basic human needs. They offer several different tours in actual tenement apartments. Poking around the restored turn-of-the-20th-century apartments, with its tiny, airless, windowless, dark rooms, makes you appreciate modern living conditions (assuming you’re lucky enough to have a place with several decent-sized rooms, light, heat, and indoor plumbing).

Anyway, as long as we were in that area of town, I decided to plan a day around it. We visited Babycakes, a bakery that specializes in organic, natural baked goodies that are gluten-free and vegan, and often soy-free. (See the Babycakes page under “Foodie Places to Check Out” on the right.) (By the way, the founder of  Babycakes made a book trailer for a cookbook by the same name. It’s pretty cute and worth taking a look HERE.)

We also picked up several knishes at Yonah Schimmel’s Knish Bakery on East Houston Street, which has been there since 1910 (more on that in a future post). We browsed the shelves of Bluestockings, a radical bookstore and activist center on Allen Street. We ended our day with a pizza dinner at Lombardi’s on Spring Street. Why is that so special? Because Lombardi’s is credited as being the very first pizzaria, not only in New York but in the U.S.

Established in 1905 by Gennaro Lombardi, an Italian immigrant, Lombardi’s is a sit-down pizzaria—in other words, unlike most pizzarias, there are restaurant-style tables, and it’s so popular with tourists and natives alike that you have to check in with the maitre d’ at the front, and it’s quite possible that you’ll need to wait a bit for a table. The menu is quite basic. They offer a small and large pizza (no individual slices) of either their “Original” pizza (marinara sauce and fresh mozzarella), or a “White” pizza (mozzarella, ricotta, romano cheese, no sauce), and optional toppings. You can also order a calzone or one of four appetizers and salads: house salad, Caesar salad, tomato and mozzarella plate, or bread sticks and sauce. And that’s it. But that’s all they need to sell, because they do a brisk business. It’s good to be a legend. (For more on Lombardi’s history, click HERE.)

Their prices are what you’d might expect from a place that caters to tourists. As of this writing, a large (18-inch) original pizza, which yields 8 slices, is $19.50; a small (14-inch) pizza, yielding 6 slices, is $15.50. A large white pizza is $21.50; a small is $17.50. The toppings are a little painful, at $3.00 for one and up to $8.00 for 5. Probably the most excrutiating price on the menu is the tomato and mozzarella plate, which comes in at $10.95. It’s a bit on the pricey side, but not exhorbitant and perfectly acceptable for an occasional visit with out-of-town guests, a special occasion, or just for the fun of it.

Is it all worth it? Well, the day my friend and I went in, I found the sauce in need of a little salt, but it might be absolutely perfect on other days. I liked the fact that they used fresh mozzarella instead of the packaged supermarket stuff. Really, the best thing about Lombardi’s pizza is the crust. The pizza is baked in a brick oven, giving the crust a smoky flavor, a crisp crunch, and beautiful charred appearance. If you’re ever in New York, it’s really worth a stop in for lunch or dinner. And it’s just paces away from the history-rich Little Italy, Chinatown, and Lower East Side.

They’re open 7 days a week, with reservations available Monday through Thursday. Be aware if you do go, however, that they accept cash only.

And to indulge in your love of pizza even further, you can go on a pizza tour. Yes, a pizza tour. Scott’s Pizza Tours will take you on either a bus or walking tour of some of the most legendary pizzarias in New York, starting from Little Italy and going into Greenwich Village on the walking tour, and Brooklyn, Queens, and the Bronx on the bus tour. They can be reached at 212-209-3370 or 1-800-979-3370.

According to the title of this blog post, I promised you some pizza history, so here’s an excerpt from the introduction to the pizza section of my book, What, No Meat? Traditional Italian Cooking the Vegetarian Way, which I’m hoping will be reissued shortly. It’s late. Way late.

Virtually every culture in the world has one form of pizza or another. In the last couple of decades it has even found its way to the most culturally isolated countries. You probably knew that pizza is an Italian creation, but did you know that it goes back to the ancient Romans? The Romans made what they called moretum, a plain baked piece of dough that they ate with onions. Near the beginning of the 2nd second century A.D., the word picea entered the language to describe a piece of round dough dressed with various toppings, perhaps influenced by the Greek word pièzo, “to flatten.” It finally became pizza soon after. (Sauce didn’t enter the picture until the 18th century.)

            The pizza that we know today was created in Naples in 1535 in honor of the marriage of Bona Sforza to Sizismondo I, King of Poland. Despite its grand origin, it became a food for common folk. Pizzerias started out as little holes-in-the-wall, selling pizza to the local peasants. As pizza’s popularity grew, pizzaiuoli (pizza-makers) began adding tables and chairs to entice people to enter. Little by little, they began to decorate and beautify their establishments by putting in colorful tiles or fancy brickwork.

            Gennaro Lombardi opened the first pizzeria in the U.S. in New York in 1905. Over time, it became very popular and more pizzerias opened all across the country, becoming a favorite gathering place for people of all classes. Today, pizza is just as American as it is Italian. According to one urban legend, U.S. pizza is so popular that in the 1980s, college students in England ordered pizza to be shipped overseas. Papa John’s pizzeria filled the largest pizza order in history by delivering 13,500 pizzas in June of 2006. This surpasses the Guinness World Records champion, Little Caesar’s, who delivered 13,386 pizzas on August 19, 1998 to employees of  the VF Corp. of Greensboro, N.C. at 180 locations in the U.S.

            Americans have turned pizza making into an art form, reinventing it over and over, and have honored it by dubbing the second week of January National Pizza Week and September National Pizza Festival Month. And, reflective of people’s strong feelings about anchovies, November 12 is National Pizza With the Works Except Anchovies Day. But pizza is a worldwide commodity. In fact, the largest pizza ever made—122 feet, 8 inches in diameter—was in Norwood, South Africa in 1990.

            Neapolitans are very protective of their creation, so much so that there is an organization called Associazione Vera Pizza Napoletano (Association of True Neapolitan Pizza). This group, as you may have guessed, determines what is and what isn’t authentic Neapolitan pizza by defining the proper ingredients, the proper way of making the dough, and the proper cooking methods. Truth is, you can make pizza any way you wish. Follow your whim, put any toppings you feel like putting—just don’t let the Associazione catch you. 

 Hope you enjoyed that little romp through culinary history and that it deepened your appreciation of pizza—if that’s at all possible. Have a great week, all.

Located the river valley of Buena Vista, Colorado, Jumpin’ Good Goat Dairy was started by Dawn Jump (get it?). Jumpin’ Good is basically a family operation—numerous members of the Jump family work there, as well as several Hanrahans and Shays (and a few strays).

Dawn Jump started the dairy after a stint as an employee of a historical museum. She was one of those people who did demonstrations to show what life was like in the 1800s, including (presumably) cheese-making. The Jump family started the business 10 years ago and kept it running in Ocean Park, WA, until this year, when they moved to Buena Vista.

I took the tour, which began at the goat pens. It was rutting season, so the males were kept separate from the females—otherwise, all the little kids on the tour would’ve gotten a lesson that their parents probably weren’t anticipating. Also, the males have a certain odor about them during mating season that is attractive to females but not so special to humans.

So, we followed the goats as they traveled their little path to the milking house. They were lined up in front a food trough and given some yummies while the milking contraptions were attached to their udders. The milking process itself was pretty quick, and when it was done, off they went out the other door to make room for the next group. This particular lass (in the photo) wasn’t interested in being milked that day. Or, maybe it was all the people inside watching her. I guess the poor thing has performance anxiety.

In the next room from the milking area is the cheese-making room. Here, the artisinal cheeses are all handmade. Unfortunately, the day I was there, the Jumpin’ Goat cheesemakers were in another town doing a demonstration, so I was unable to see the cheese-making in action. But I did get to see a bunch of wheels of “Queso Fiesta” that had been made and were awaiting transport to the cheese cave.

Ahh, the cheese cave. For cheese lovers, that is a thing of beauty. The cheeses are lined up on shelves, where they age naturally. The aroma in the cave is enticing (although, if you ask the kids on the tour, they’ll probably tell you it was way stinky, judging from the way they ran out of the cave). Which brings me to the “goatiness” factor. Goat cheese is generally very distinct and because of that, some people are not fond of it. But Jumpin’ Good Goat’s cheeses are not overly “goaty” because they combine the milks from their various breeds. Plus, the Jumpin’ Goat people say that it’s also about location, location, location: Daily shepherding on a lush 45-acre pasture in the Rockies; a clean, roomy, temperature-controlled, “stress-free barn to come home to each night”; and a “most beloved place in our hearts.” That last one is a little on the esoteric side, but if free-to-roam chickens can taste fresher, then maybe giving these goats love and kisses makes their milk sweeter. Why not?

Oh, and I forgot to mention that you will be able to sample a good variety of their cheeses in the country store, before and after the tour. Some of the types you might be able to try are cheddar, gouda, raclette, Pacific Porcini, Swedish Caraway, and more. They also offer tastes of their spreads, yogurts (really smooth and sweet), and milk. The tours are every Wednesday and Saturday at 4:00. It costs $5 for adults, $2 for kids under 12.

Jumpin’ Good is not just about the cheese, however. Their policies are appealing, too: humane treatment of goats, sustainable agriculture, and community development. They accept volunteers for bottle-feeding the babies, which not only works out for them, but it gives animal lovers a chance to get involved. (Babies are removed from their mothers almost immediately. This is a standard procedure for two reasons: 1) The babies would drink up all of the mother’s milk and leave nothing for the dairy, and 2) the babies need to get used to being handled by humans right away, otherwise they are difficult to handle.)

On the Jumpin’ Good Goat website, you’ll find things like a photo gallery (it’s worth taking a look just for the photo of the baby goats—SOO cute), news, blogs, and a Goat of the Month. This month, it’s Red Rider. Here’s what they say about him:

I do remember some things about the food, though: the fish and chips in London and learning that Brits like mayonnaise with their chips (French fries to us Yanks), which almost made me barf. (Italians, in general, are not fond of mayo.) Eating weisswurst (white sausage) in Switzerland, which, never being a big meat eater, again, almost made me barf. Having my first grasshopper—a creamy, minty drink—at the Lido in Paris. Once again, my cookies were threatening to toss. (I’m starting to see a pattern here. Not all my food experiences in Europe were bad, though. It just seems like I’m remembering the bad ones.)

My parents, however, decided to make a little foodie adventure for themselves. They decided that they wanted to try the pizza in every place we visited. It was a noble idea, since pizza is interpreted different ways everywhere you go. I don’t recall having pizza in London (which may have been a good thing). I remember sitting in a trattoria-type place in Paris and my mother declaring, “I want to try pizza in every city.” So, I guess it was my mother’s idea. And it would’ve been great if it hadn’t been for the fact that my father had gotten sick in London and was acting like a brat. But I digress.

Anyway, I remembered this little experiment of my mother’s this week while I was in Denver and had lunch at a place called Beau Jo’s, where they proudly serve up Colorado Mountain Pies. Now, my very first thought was probably the same one you had upon seeing the name. Yes, it’s an unfortunate name, to be sure. But it is not at all what it sounds like. It is, in fact, Beau Jo’s specialty pizza.

If you’re from New York, one thing you have to remember when trying pizza in any other location: DO NOT EXPECT NEW YORK-STYLE PIZZA. You will not get it. I don’t care if the joint advertises “New York-Style Pizza.” They’re lying. It’s not possible—unless they import New York City water. That’s right. It’s the water in New York City that makes pizza, bread, bagels, etc., taste as good as they do. I’m not making this up. It’s a well-known fact. I have two friends who were originally from Brooklyn and who now live in E. Stroudsburg, PA. They told me recently that there are two pizza joints in their town that make great pizza. Why? They import NYC water. I say this because I’ve have pizza in different places around the world and around the country and it’s never like New York pizza. But that’s not to say that pizza outside of New York isn’t good—it’s just different.

The history of Beau Jo’s goes back to the 1880s, when a French fur trapper named Pete ZaPigh followed the Colorado Gold Rush to Idaho Springs. Apparently not very adept at anything else, he developed a recipe for pizza, which was lost for 75 years and resurrected in 1973. An amusing account of it can be read HERE. I don’t know how much of it is true, but it’s now a Colorado legend.

So, I’m at Beau Jo’s and I decide to try a mountain pie. I was really tempted to try a prairie pie, the difference being that a mountain pie has a thick crust, whereas the prairie pie has a thin crust. I love thin-crust pizza, but they’re famous for their mountain pies, so that’s what I got. They have quite a variety on offer, but I went with the vegetarian combo: Roma tomatoes, mushrooms, green peppers, red onions, black olives, sauce, and mozzarella. The crust is thick and bread-like and quite hearty, which, I suspect, is why they call it a mountain pie. It kind of has a rugged, stick-to-your-ribs quality. They offer numerous styles, such as Yukon (smoked Canadian bacon, artichoke hearts, Roma tomatoes, sauce, mozzarella, and smoked provolone), Highland Mary (ranch dressing, black olives, Roma tomatoes, chicken breast slices, mozzarella, parmesan, and fresh basil), and Green Chile Cheeseburger (ranch dressing, ground beef, Roma tomatoes, red onions, fire-roasted green chiles, Monterey Jack cheese, and mild cheddar). You can also build your own pie, choosing from a list of sauces and toppings. For those who prefer a gluten-free diet, they offer gluten-free prairie pies in several varieties.

Here’s the funny part. The pies (both kinds) come in various sizes, from individual-size pies to X-Large pies cut into 12 slices. On the menu, it has a weight chart with prices, and you can choose a one-pounder, two-pounder, three-pounder, or five-pounder. Now, being the half-wit that I am, and not reading it properly, I initially thought that it was a kind of diet thing, where you decide on the size of the pizza based on your weight. My dining companion, Andi, said to me, “No, it’s the size of the pizza, not the size of the person.” I looked at her expression, a mix of bemusement and amazement, and busted out laughing. Thank goodness she did, too.

They have several locations in Colorado and their menu (as well as a nutrition and allergen chart for their products) can be viewed at Beaujos.com. As Andi said, their menu is complicated, and you might indeed have a difficult time making a decision, but it’s been around since 1973, so, evidently, it must get easier for regulars as time goes on.

One note thought: If you order the Honey Cheese Bread, be prepared for an unsusual experience. It’s exactly what it sounds like—honey and cheese on a focaccia-like bread. Personally, it was a bit too odd for me, but, hey, it might just be up your alley. It was definitely an interesting experience, which I always appreciate, even if the outcome isn’t to my liking.

Today, October 16, is my birthday, and I’m enjoying a beautiful Colorado day, with clear blue skies and temperatures in the 70s. Back home in New York, my family and friends are not as lucky and I hope things improve soon. Have a great week, everyone, wherever you are. I’m discovering lately that life really is what you make of it, so make the most of it.

Ciao.

Photo of pizza: Courtesy of www.nyflyingpizza.com