Chef: Fortunato Nicotra, Executive Chef of Felidia in NYC

On February 1, 2012, I did day 5 of my internship at the James Beard House. It was the most interesting day for me thus far. First, I signed into the volunteer log book as usual. The log book has a column for the chef/event, for the volunteer’s name and signature, time in/out, and one for the volunteer’s school. I saw that another volunteer had already signed it and in the school column, it said “NG.” That meant Natural Gourmet. I haven’t seen another NGI student at JBH—most of the volunteers are either from ICE or FCI (Institute for Culinary Education and French Culinary Institute). When she walked back in, I introduced myself and found out that she graduated a couple of years ago and is now doing well with a catering and home-delivery business. (Shout out to Amy!) She lives in Western New York State and just happened to be in NYC this particular weekend and decided to volunteer.

Then, the chef and his crew arrived a short while later and as they came in, I immediately recognized one of them. She was another NGI alumnus, who graduated a few months ago, and I had helped out with her Friday Night Dinner. (Report on that FND HERE.) She interned at Felidia, which turned into a job. How about that for a coincidence? So, not only were there 3 NGI graduates there (when I was usually the only one), but one was a member of the chef’s crew, and I had actually worked on her Friday Night Dinner. I mean, I could have worked any Friday Night Dinner over the course of 11 months, and I happened to choose that person’s FND, and then encounter this person on a JBH shift of my choosing. What a small, weird world it is. (Shout out to Debbie!)

That was pretty cool. But my night became even more dramatic when, just prior to the guests arriving, two women walked in and leaned against the counter. Since all guests have to walk through the kitchen to get to the dining room, I really didn’t pay attention. I was busy spooning broccoli rabe into little shot glasses. I looked up briefly and one of the women smiled and said, “Hello.” I said, “Hello” and continued with my task. A moment later, I looked up again and it dawned on me that the other woman was Lidia Bastianich. I almost lost my broccoli rabe. Holy crap. Then I realized that the woman who had said “Hello” was her daughter, Tanya. And me without a camera! Doh!

They stood there and watched for a while as Amy and I helped the chef de cuisine (whose name I, unfortunately, missed) make little parfait hors d’oeuvres of ricotta, broccoli rabe, and saba. Lidia was watching me so I was as precise as I could possibly be. She and her daughter then went up to the private dining room and the rush of guests began.

I cut up burrata for a burrata and tomato salad. Burrata in Italian means “buttered,” and it is so named because it is made up of an exterior shell of mozzarella filled with a mixture of soft mozzarella and cream, making the texture buttery. I also sliced and speared salami with little wooden forks, dabbed homemade mustard with mustard seeds on them, and topped them with a homemade salsa of some sort (it looked like apple or pear and some root vegetables). I arranged them on a rectangular platter, the center of which Chef adorned with thinly shaved Grana Padano (my favorite grating cheese).

As usual, I didn’t get to sample everything because first priority is plating for the guests. If there’s anything left over, the staff gets to eat it. Unfortunately, there isn’t always food leftover, or it disappears before I get to grab some.

I absolutely wanted to try the Butternut Squash-Chocolate Ravioli with Butter-Sage Sauce, so I kept an eye on it. When all the servings were plated, there was plenty left for us, and I dove right in. The ravioli were absolutely divine. You would never have known that they were gluten-free. The dough was tender and fluffy, but firm enough to hold the filling, which was a delicious squash puree. The sauce was probably a thousand calories but it was luxurious. The tops of the ravioli got a generous dusting of ground pistachios. It was an extremely indulgent dish.

During the introduction/Q&A part of the evening (when everyone makes their appearance in the dining room for a round of applause from the guests), someone asked about the ravioli. Chef Fortunato talked about the process of coming up with a good gluten-free pasta that was superior to the stuff you find in the markets, but I don’t think he actually said what combination of flours they used. I think one of them was rice. I’d love to get my hands on the recipe. (Hint, hint, Chef Fortunato.)

I also tasted the beef duo of Braised Flatiron and Steak Tagliata, which were both tender and so flavorful, and I loved the Mashed Spinach and Potatoes. They were fluffy and smooth and delicious.

The cookie plates were adorable, and there were also little chocolate cakes adorned on the plate with a pistachio brittle that was worthy of a plate of their own. I never seem to be able to taste the ice cream at any of these dinners.

When dessert had been served, we were ushered up to the fourth floor, where Lidia and her guests awaited in the private dining room. I was so excited to be standing there in front of Lidia, who had obviously enjoyed the meal. The meal I helped plate! (Still getting over that.) On her way out a while later, she stated that everyone had done a great job. Of course, it was meant mostly for the main crew, but she did look at me, too, and I decided to bask in it anyway.

I truly wish I’d remembered my camera. My phone camera is completely inadequate. However, the evening’s official photographer is a great person. I had met her a couple of events ago and I will be asking her for photos of both events. I’ll put a link here when the photos are available.

I really, really need a new camera.

Menu

Hors d’Oeuvre

Beef Tartare
Burrata and Tomatoes with Balsamic Vinegar
Local Salami
Bagna Cauda with Vegetables
Ricotta, Broccoli Rabe, and Saba
Flor Prosecco NV

Dinner

Mediterranean Shrimp Salad with Toscanello Beans, Marinated Anchovies, and Tuna and Branzino Carpaccio
Bastianich Adriatico Friulano 2010

Butternut Squash–Chocolate Ravioli with Butter–Sage Sauce
Bastianich Vespa Bianco 2009

Vacche Rosse Parmigiano-Reggiano Risotto with Pear and Celery
Bastianich Vespa Bianco 2009

Beef Duo: Braised Flatiron and Steak Tagliata with Mashed Spinach and Potatoes and Braised Red Cabbage
Benanti Rovittello 2005

Poached Quince, Almond, and Frangipane Tart with Bourbon–Maple Syrup Ice Cream
Benanti Il Musico Moscato Passito NV

Assorted Cookies

Chef Scott Romano (who’s from New Jersey, by the way), worked with JBF Award winner

Charlie Palmer (Charlie Palmer at the Joule/Dallas) and Wolfgang Puck at Spago, and he specializes in steakhouse cuisine. (I suppose it helps that he lives and works in Texas.) Consequently, day 4 was a carnivore’s dream.

The day started later than usual, as the chef and the food didn’t arrive until about 2 p.m., but once we got started, things moved at a pretty quick pace. Chef Romano first wanted me to finely chop shallots, but I wasn’t getting them as small as he wanted, which did wonders for my inferiority complex about my knife skills—I just don’t have the finesse required to do that very fine knife work.

So, they set me to work at the deli slicer, slicing up duck ham, which is duck cured to taste and look like ham, and when I sliced it, it looked kind of like bacon (see photo above). The deli machine scared the crap out of me—memories of a friend slicing her hand open on a deli slicer many years ago kept flashing through my head. Plus, I knew from one of the Blackberry Farm chefs that the machine (which belongs to the JB House) is a pretty crappy one. But I was very careful.

Ninth hotel pan

The machine was not cutting smoothly, the holder (to protect your hand) didn’t fit properly, and as the slices were coming out on the other side, the blade was sucking them back up and eating them. It drove me crazy. I had to get to as much of the meat as I could. They needed 80 orders, 3 slices per order, and I was running out of pieces big enough to use. It took me forever to slice out enough portions. At the 40-order mark, I had been working a couple of hours, and I only had 2 hours left to get all 80 portions. I needed to speed it up. So, I took a small hotel pan (what they call a “ninth”), stuck my hand in it, and pushed the meat onto the blade with it. This allowed me to press the meat evenly across and get the meat close to the blade without slicing my fingers off. In the end, I just about got enough servings.

By the time the family meal was served, I was starving, frustrated, and about to kill someone. I stuffed my face with pasta and salad and got back to work. Although I never did get to taste the duck ham (or many of the menu items), what I did taste was excellent. The bison got overcooked but I thought it was still quite tender and flavorful from the rub.

Photo: Geoff Mottram

The Malva bread pudding was the child of pastry chef Anika. When I was first introduced to her, I thought I heard “Monica”, so that’s what I was calling her for most of the night. So, Chef Anika, if you’re reading this, I apologize. The recipe for the bread pudding was a traditional African one, which she duplicated exactly, and it was delicious. It had the right balance of sweetness and crunch from a dusting of toasted, minced nuts (I think they were either hazelnuts or almonds).

Duck ham being wrapped around Parmesan Soufflés

I didn’t have many opportunities to take photos but I asked the photographer to send me a link to the official photos, which he did So, thank you, Geoff Mottram. Photo album HERE.

Here’s the menu:

Hors d’Oeuvre
Foie Gras Pavés with Apple Compote and Potato Crisps
Ale-Glazed and Jalapeño–Stuffed Quail with Prosciutto
Wild Boar Arancini with Orange–Shallot Marmalade
Parmesan Soufflés with Housemade Pancetta
Bone Marrow with Duxelles and Truffles
Schramsberg Brut Rosé 2008

Dinner
Red Oak Leaf Salad with Duck Ham, Brioche Croutons, and Balsamic Brown Butter
Darcie Kent Vineyards Rava Blackjack Vineyard Grüner Veltliner 2009

Ricotta–Mascarpone Agnolotti with Shiitake Velouté, Brown Butter Hazelnuts, and Fiore Sardo
RouteStock Cellars Route 99W Pinot Noir 2009

Arctic Char with Salumi-Braised Beans and Brown Butter Cauliflower
Migration Russian River Valley Chardonnay 2010

Rabbit Saltimbocca with Farro Risotto and Sage
Zaca Mesa Z Cuvée 2007

Bison Filet with Honey-Glazed Turnips, Braised Potatoes, and Armagnac Reduction
Ramey Wine Cellars Syrah 2008

Malva Bread Pudding with Vanilla Ice Cream
Blandy’s Alvada 5-Year-Old Rich Madeira NV

Maine

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

The event was a two-day affair in Bryant Park in midtown Manhattan. It was a snowy, cold day and while it brought out the skaters to the ice rink (CitiPond), it kept away a lot of visitors from the festival, which was a shame. They had prepared for 50 children per event, and the numbers were nowhere near that. The most kids I saw at any demo/performance were perhaps 20. But there was a nice cross-section of kids. They ranged in age from toddler to teen; they were black, white, and Asian; and I even saw a couple of kids who, I had reason to believe, had two daddies. These are all good things.

Although there was a lot of frenzied running around, it seemed that they really didn’t have a whole lot for the volunteers to do. I tried to brave out the cold in my chef jacket, in an attempt to maintain a professional appearance at all times. I even helped deliver trays of prepped foods from the event services pavilion to the main building, where they were doing other demos, with no coat.

After a while, another volunteer and I were assigned to the stage tent to help out with the demos. The stage tent was one of those temporary metal-and-Plexiglas structures, and although they had heaters in there, it was absolutely freezing. Over time, I slowly donned parts of my outwear: first my gloves, then my hat, and after about 2 hours, I couldn’t take it any more and finally put on my coat. And despite the fact that I was wearing my snow boots, my toes were frozen after several hours. I eyed the main building, a café/lounge called Celcius, with envy, wishing that I’d been assigned to the demos in there.

The first demo I assisted in was “Avocados From Mexico: Guacamole Mashing with Cricket Azima.” Cricket Azima is a co-founder of the Kids Food Fest and The Creative Kitchen. I had gone in with my knife roll across my back, kind of like an arrow quiver; Cricket told me to put the knives down so as not to scare the kids (not that they would have known that there were knives in there.) Kids were given plastic bags with an avocado and some tomato. The other volunteer and I handed out the bags, along with limes, cilantro, and salt. The kids squeezed the limes into their bags (or their parents did), pinched off the cilantro leaves, and grabbed a pinch of salt, sealed the bags, and then squished everything together with their hands. Then they got to eat it with sweet potato chips.

Next up was “Table Time with Mr. Manners,” hosted by Tom Farley, an etiquette specialist. He engaged the kids in a talk about table manners and the kids’ answers to his questions were pretty cute. For example, he asked them to name some bad table manners, and one kid responded, “No spitting on the table.”

I was interested in “Akiko Thurnauer: Japanese Onigiri Rice Balls,” Chef Akiko and her sous chef taught the audience how to make Japanese rice balls by hand and by using a mold (which actually yielded rice rolls). One of the ingredients she used was red shiso, which is often referred to as Japanese basil. It did have a basil-like flavor, crossed with maybe oregano. Green shiso, also called perilla, is part of the same as basil, but red shiso is another type called akajiso, and is used to dye umeboshi, which are pickled ume plums. (We used a lot of umeboshi paste and vinegar quite a bit at The Natural Gourmet Institute. The medicinal benefits of umeboshi is the subject of another blog. Stay tuned.)

I took a break during “Circus Balancing,” as it did not require any culinary assistance. Cricket was up next with “Snack Time Choices.” At that point, I could no longer feel my toes and decided that 6 hours was enough for me.

All in all, it wasn’t the culinary experience I’d hoped it would be, but it was educational to see the behind-the-scenes activities of an event like this. Well, at least I got a few Clif Bars out of the deal.

Patina

The first night, I worked with the crew from Patina restaurant in Los Angeles, headed up by Chef Tony Esnault. Chef Esnault is a protégé of culinary legend Alain Ducasse, and earned his restaurant a four-star review in the Los Angeles Times.

The theme of the evening was Black Truffle Extravaganza. The nine different dishes that were executed all contained black truffles, including dessert. There were thousands and thousands of dollars worth of black truffles in that place. At $800 per pound, I would not be able to afford even one knotty fungi. Then, his truffle importer, Christopher Poron, brought in about 6 or 7 more pounds in a little cooler bag. These truffles were huge and very aromatic. I alone shaved and cut into little circles about $1,600 worth of the black fungus. I would say that people got their money’s worth.

Aside from shaving truffles, I picked 300 little leaves off celery, laid them out on a sheet pan, and brushed each one with egg wash. Talk about painstaking. They then put them in a low oven, where they crisped up into little chips.

It felt like I was working in a traditional French brigade kitchen. It wasn’t that all the cooks were formal or that Chef Esnault, a Frenchman, cracked the proverbial whip, but it just had that “French kitchen” vibe. And it seemed as if Chef Esnault is an old-school kind of chef who really has no use for a woman in the kitchen. [See comments below.] He wasn’t mean or rude to me; on the contrary, he was very polite to me—when he addressed me at all. I think he was just indifferent to me—I could have been there or not, he couldn’t have cared less. The only time this changed was when he yelled at me to hurry up and put these teeny, tiny little crispy celery leaves on top of these little celeriac squares and julienned celery. This was not easy. Trying to balance fragile little chips on top of a small cube AND a julienned celery is frustrating, especially when you have an assembly line going and the plates have to get out. I felt like Lucy on the assembly line at the chocolate factory. I actually thought that while I was doing it, and it made me chuckle.

It was a loooonnnggg day. We never got an official break and we didn’t get any food until after dinner service. I had to scoot away to sit down for a couple of minutes at a time and snack on a few of the food items I brought with me. I finally got out of there at about 10:30.

Here’s the menu:

 Hors d’Oeuvre
Sunchoke Velouté
Potatoes with Truffles
Vegetable–Truffle Roulades
Truffle Gougéres
Champagne Louis Roederer Premier Brut NV

Dinner
Duck Foie Gras with Poularde, Artichokes, Frisée, Mâche, and Truffle Vinaigrette
Spottswoode Sauvignon Blanc 2010

Glazed Seasonal Vegetable Mosaic with Black Truffle Condiment
Vogelzang Vineyard Reserve Viognier 2010

Seared Day Boat Scallops with Potatoes, Leeks, and Tuber Melanosporum
Pazo de Barrantes Albariño 2010

Milk-Fed Veal Tenderloin with Celery and Jus Truffé
Neyers Sage Canyon California Red 2010

Poached Pear with Brown Butter Cake and Black Truffle Ice Cream
Pavi Due Sorelle Vin Santo 2003

While I refused to sample the veal, everything I did taste was delicious.  My favorite part? The Vegetable Mosaic. Simply delicious. I wish I’d gotten a shot of it.

Blackberry Farm

The next day was a completely different experience. I worked with the chefs from Blackberry Farm in Walland, TN. The atmosphere was much more mellow and laid back. And I was so happy to see that one of the chefs was a woman. Another volunteer was also a woman, though she left at about 4. That’s not to say that they were lackadaisical about their work; on the contrary, they were so prepared that it left relatively little for the volunteers to do. We got a nice long break, which went a long way toward keeping up my energy level. But we did have things to do and once dinner service began, it was the usual adrenaline-rushed craziness of getting the plates out.

I had written about Blackberry Farm when I was Assistant Managing Editor at Travel Agent magazine because they do cooking classes on the premises. They grow their own food and have animals on the farm from which they get some of their meat and their eggs and make their own charcuterie. They also brought along a few black truffles, which had been plucked from the ground only hours before in (I believe) North Carolina. While the French truffles were, without a doubt, flawless, these locals truffles were more perfume-y and fresher tasting, which is understandable.

Chefs Joseph Lenn and Cassidee Dabney were a pleasure to work with, as they brought a sense of fun to the work. They take their business seriously, but it was clear that their attitude was that you should whistle while you work. I like that. If you have to do something all day long, it’s best to enjoy what you’re doing.

I peeled and quartered little baby red and golden beets from their garden, shucked oysters (not well), piped field pea puree onto little pieces of crisp rice thingies that they made themselves, sliced biscuits, and whatever else needed to be done. Another wonderful dinner.

The Blackberry Farm menu was:

Hors d’Oeuvre
Biscuits with Pork Belly, Blackberry Farm Preserves, and Pickles
Capers Blades Oysters with Muscadine Mignonette
Blackberry Farm Charcuterie
Carolina Gold Rice with Field Pea Purée
Domaine des Terres de Velle Auxey-Duresses 2009

Dinner
North Carolina Trout and Beet Salad with Watercress, Preserved Lemon, and Trout Roe
Domaine Saint-Marc Bois de Blagny Meursault 2009

Blackberry Farm Pencil Cob Grits with Sorghum, Benton’s Country Ham, Pickled Ramps, and Hollandaise
Domaine Alain Jeanniard Les Saussilles Pommard 1er Cru 2008

Guinea and Dumplings with Poached Egg and Black Truffles
Domaine Durieu Cuvée Traditionnelle Rouge Châteauneuf–du-Pape 2009

Roasted Lamb with Blackberry Farm Peas and Greens
Domaine Paillère & Pied-Gû Gigondas 2005

Blackberry Farm Blue Cheese Cheesecake with Pears and Pecans

More Photos HERE!

A block away from Broadway Panhandlers, I spotted a Financiers, a French coffee/pastry shop, on Astor Place. There’s a Financiers around the corner from my school and I had stopped in there just about every week for a cup of Saturday afternoon coffee, but I had never tried one of their baked goods. So, here was my opportunity. I walked in and checked out the selection in the display case, and found it oddly sparse. I don’t know if this was normal for a Saturday afternoon or if they had gotten a huge influx of people stopping in for something warm and a bite to eat on this bitter January day, but there was not much of a selection. I almost walked out.

Then something caught my eye. Something labeled a galette de rois. With my very limited knowledge of French, I knew that this meant “king cake,” which was reinforced in my mind when I realized what time of the year it was.

King Cake is puff pastry filled with frangipane cream and is associated with the Christian festival of Epiphany. The feast of the Epiphany, traditionally falling on January 6, is the celebration of the revelation of Christ in human form. For Christians in the Western world, this more specifically celebrates the visitation of the Three Kings on the Baby Jesus, which is why the holiday also goes by the name of Three Kings Day. In the East, it revolves around the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan River. In the United States, the king cake is also eaten in celebration of Mardi Gras, as it is wherever Carnival takes place. Traditionally, a little ceramic baby (representing the Baby Jesus), or some other trinket, is baked inside the cake. The person who gets the little prize is responsible for hosting the following year’s Epiphany celebration. The English tradition is to put a bean in the cake, which is why it also goes by the name Bean Cake. (By the way, there’s a different kind of king cake that is actually a stuffed bread and which is decorated with bright Mardi Gras-type colors. That’s not the kind of king cake I’m talking about.) In the French tradition, a large king cake is topped with a paper crown.

Love Live the King

When I stepped onto my train, I sat down and reached into my bag for a bite of my galette de rois. I tried to break off a mouthful but as I pinched the crisp pastry, I discovered that it was so flaky that it crumbled in my fingers. And it was so buttery that my fingers came away with the pastry glued to my fingers. I knew that if I made any further attempts at breaking off a piece, I would be covered in puff pastry flakes. My king cake had to wait until I got home.

So, now I was home. I made myself some espresso and cut into my cake. The flakey layers crackled slightly as the knife went through them, which promised me a light crunch between my teeth. I wasn’t disappointed. The puff pastry was indeed light, flaky, and buttery, but not sickeningly so (when something is too buttery, it makes me nauseated). The frangipane cream was sweet but not cloying, and had floral, fruity notes. Frangipane is an almond pastry cream made from butter, eggs, sugar, and almonds. It is sometimes enhanced by almond or vanilla extract, or other flavorings. It was really a delicious dessert.  

If you want to try making king cake yourself, it’s really quite easy, and here’s a recipe that I made up myself. Although king cake is usually for the Epiphany, I think it will go over very well any time of year.

Galette de Rois (King Cake)*

Frangipane Cream
1/2 cup ground almonds
½ cup softened butter
2/3 cup organic sugar
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon almond or vanilla extract

1 package puff pastry (thawed if frozen)
1 egg

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.

2. Combine all frangipane cream ingredients in a food processor and process until smooth and creamy.

3. Cut four 4-inch circles in the puff pastry sheet. Place two of them on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.

4. Place equal amounts of the cream in the center of the two circles. Top each one with the remaining puff pastry rounds. Pinch them gently around the edges to seal.

5. Beat the egg with a little water and brush the egg wash over the tops of each galette.

6. Bake for about 30 minutes, or until golden brown. If it gets too dark too fast, lower the heat to 350 and continue baking for 10 to 15 minutes.

* For a traditional celebration, make several batches and place a little ceramic baby, bean or trinket in one of them. Share them with family and friends and whoever gets the prize will have to make them next year. You can also make little paper crowns and top each cake with one.

The diet is basically a 3-day course of a vegan diet. On the morning of the third day, I have to drink an elixir of lemon juice, crushed garlic, and olive oil, chased by fresh orange juice. (An alternative recipe is to blend 1 lemon (peeled) with 2 tbsp olive oil, and chase it with the orange juice.)

To get a jump start on the cleanse, though, I whipped up another concoction that is supposed to be good for the liver:  beet and apple juice. This basically consists of juiced beets and juiced green apple. However, because I don’t have a juicer, I had a little bit of an ordeal trying to get this juice done. First, I shredded the beets in a food processor, then transferred them to a blender, along with the apples. The blender apparently had an issue with this. That sucker was stubborn. It took a lot of futzing, prodding, and adding some liquid to get the thing going.

Unfortunately, because it’s a blender and not a juicer, it came out more like a beet smoothie than juice. It was quite thick.

Oh, to have a Vitamix! A Vitamix is a professional blender that can liquefy the hell out of a brick. So much can be done with a Vitamix: sauces, purees, juices, smoothies, etc. But, alas, I can’t afford one. They are super expensive, at an average cost of $500. So, this is one kitchen toy that will have to remain on my dream list.

Anyway, I hope this does the trick. Life is short. If you take care of your body, it will take care of you.

Peace.

Because I grew up on Italian food, I know what constitutes a good Italian meal. I know what quality is and what authentic is. And because I am somewhat of a food historian (that means I’ve read a lot about the history of food, not that I have a degree in it or anything), I also know why certain dishes exist, how they came to be. This all makes me very, very picky about Italian food. Given a choice, I almost never choose to go out to an Italian restaurant. Most of them fall short of my standards. The majority of Italian restaurants are cookie-cutter versions of what people think Italians restaurants should be. The menus rarely vary: chicken Francaise, veal parmigiana, spaghetti with meatballs (NOT an authentic dish, by the way), shrimp marinara, baked ziti, etc. Not that there’s anything wrong with these dishes. They are often made in Italian-American homes and they make great comfort food. But it’s always the same from restaurant to restaurant. What’s worse is that some restaurants don’t even do them well. When one stands out, I take notice.

This is changing, however. The draw of eateries accessorized by checkered tablecloths, Chianti bottles with candles stuck in them, and drawings of big, fat chefs with cheesy mustaches, and punctuated by squeeze-box music coming through the speakers, is weakening. More and more people are looking for authentic ethnic cuisines, and ristorantes that boast authentic Italian cuisine are popping up all over the place with the mission of showing Americans what eating in Italy is really like. Some places shoot for gourmet Italian. Babbo, for example, Mario Batali’s eatery in Greenwich Village, showcases high-end, off-the-grid Italian food, such as Pig Foot “Milanese,” Chianti Stained Pappardelle with Wild Boar Ragu, and Deconstructed Osso Buco for Two with Saffron Orzo, Cavolo Nero and Chestnut Gremolata for a hefty $75. These types of places are where one goes for an “experience.”

Then there are places like Aunt Suzie’s, which offer more than the typical cookie-cutter menus but whose dishes are recognizable and agreeable to most people’s palates. These are the places one goes to for a good meal in comfortable setting. Aunt Suzie’s had the usual stuff that people expect, such as eggplant parmigiana and chicken marsala, but then there were the “outside the box” menu items that really highlighted the diversity of Italian cuisine. I’m not talking about anything that was especially unique to Aunt Suzie’s but that are unique to restaurants that want to offer something more.

For example, caponata is a pretty typical Italian appetizer, yet not many Italian restaurants have it on their menus. Aunt Suzie’s had it. Caponata is a sweet and sour relish-like dish that goes beautifully on crostini or focaccia. (Below is my recipe for caponata, as it appears in my cookbook, What, No Meat? Traditional Italian Cooking the Vegetarian Way.) They also offered dishes such as Salmon in Vodka Sauce, Brandy Orange Chicken, and Fresh Spinach Fettuccine in a tomato-mushroom sauce. One of my favorite items was the Honey Roasted Pear, Goat Cheese, and Walnut Salad served over mixed greens. This salad was sprinkled with toasted pine nuts and dressed with a light vinaigrette and was utterly divine.

One of the best things they offered was a plate of roasted pepper dip on the table with a variety of fresh breads. This stuff was addictive. The last time I was there was for a friend’s birthday and someone else at the table told me that I should buy the restaurant. I proclaimed that the only reason she wanted me to do that was so that I could keep the roasted red pepper dip coming. But I don’t have to go to that extreme—I got the recipe. HA! Well, the basic ingredients, anyway. I’ll be working on that.

I was never crazy about their style of service where plating was concerned, though. They often put sides, especially vegetables, in a separate plate, which always strikes me as cafeteria-style service. And they never took reservations, which was frustrating when someone wanted to plan and event (a birthday, anniversary, etc.) because you never knew how long you’d have to wait. Other than that, I really don’t have anything bad to say about the place. The servers were usually friendly and the portions were more than satisfying. Although I will say that a friend complained that the last couple of times that they ordered pasta, it was overcooked. Since I rarely order pasta in a restaurant (homemade “pillows” at Lidia’s Felidia being an example exception), I have no opinion on the matter.

Well, goodbye to Aunt Suzie’s. You will be missed.

Thank god L&B Spumoni Gardens is still around.

Caponata

Copyright © Roberta Roberti. All rights reserved.

3/4 cup olive oil
1 cup chopped onion
½ cup sliced celery
1 cup chopped fresh fennel
2 large garlic cloves, minced
1 small eggplant (about 1 pound), diced
3 small zucchini, scraped and diced
1 cup sliced mushrooms
2 large tomatoes, peeled, seeded, and diced
½ cup pimento olives, sliced
½ cup balsamic vinegar
3 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Heat the oil in a large pan over medium heat. Add the onion, celery, fennel, and garlic and sauté, stirring occasionally, until they are tender, about 7 to 10 minutes. Add the eggplant, zucchini, and mushrooms; cover the pan and cook until the vegetables are tender, about 10 minutes.

Add the tomatoes, olives, vinegar, sugar, salt, and pepper. Reduce the heat to low; cover the pan again and simmer 5 minutes. Increase the heat to high and bring the mixture to a boil. Remove it from the heat.

Transfer the mixture into a large bowl; cover and refrigerate until the caponata is thoroughly chilled, at least 3 hours. Allow it to come to room temperature before serving.

Store the caponata in a covered bowl (not aluminum) or plastic container in the refrigerator up to one week.

Makes 10 to 12 servings.

Every meal at The Natural Gourmet Institute is a fabulous one. I’ve done shifts working Friday Night Dinners for other classes and guest instructors, but on this Friday evening, my class was being served. We got to sit back and enjoy the meal without working, fussing, freaking, and, best of all, cleaning. The menu was created and overseen by instructor Chef Elliott Prag, who did a great job. So, here’s what we had:

Appetizer

Trio of mushrooms:

Mushroom Sherry Soup with Cashew Cream

Mushroom Walnut Paté with seeded (gluten-free, homemade) crackers

Mushroom Tempura with Shoyu-Yuzu Dipping Sauce

Entrée

Shepherd’s Pie with hazelnut crust, spiced and seared tempeh, root vegetables, and sweet potato topping

Roasted Brussels sprouts and cipollini onions

Salad of Frisée and radicchio with olives, raisins, and pickled shallots in sweet rice vinaigrette

Dessert:

Cardomom-ginger poached Seckel pear

Pecan-cranberry granola

Hibiscus syrup

Gluten-free ginger tuile

This was a completely vegan and gluten-free meal.

Everything was expertly plated and looked beautiful. But, more importantly, it all tasted delicious. I enjoyed everything, and so did everyone else at my table. What’s interesting is to see people who are usually carnivorous, or just meat-and-potato people, taste the food at Friday Night Dinner and surprise themselves by enjoying it. The look on their faces of utter astonishment that they could possibly enjoy and be filled by a vegan meal is priceless. And I know a few people who enjoyed it so much that they plan on going to more Friday Night Dinners.

What made the mushroom appetizer trio particularly good was the fact that they used several different mushrooms—cremini, oyster, chanterelles, porcini, and perhaps others. Singly, these mushrooms all have their own distinct flavor—some earthy, some woodsy, some with nutty undertones—but together, they create something that is flavorful and complex.

The shepherd’s pie was a  clever combination of tempeh and root vegetables and rather than be accompanied by sweet potatoes, they were topped by them. At the risk of insulting Chef Prag, I want to say that the pie was so cute! I don’t know if he would appreciate the word “cute” being applied to one of his entreés, but I mean that in the best possible way. They were these little, individual pies, decorated in a way that was both classy and quaint (see photos). And dessert was sweet and gratifying without being too much after such a filling meal.

I am getting sad writing this. There was something electric about going to class that you don’t get just anywhere. Friday Night Dinner was always a rush of adrenaline, and the frenzy and excitement always outweighed the anxiety over doing a good job. Ultimately, we always did a good job.

Thanks to everyone at NGI. It was an experience I’ll never forget.

I always said, right from the beginning, that I wanted a culinary degree because I felt that it was the one credential that was keeping me back from getting the kind of job that I wanted, and I’m still hoping that it will open up those doors for me. But the truth is, I have absolutely no idea where I’m going to end up.

It’s exciting and scary at the same time. But I’m going to grab that piece of paper and wave it around for all to see, because if that’s what it takes, that’s what I’ll do.

I’ve got to complete my 100 hours of internship now. I have to start over because I had to bow out of the internship with vegan dessert instructor/author Fran Costigan. I felt terrible having to do that, but circumstances forced me. So I will now be interning at the James Beard House.

I’m almost there.