I Left My Heart In Bushwick

Tonight was a good night. It was filled with pork, beer, bones, and pizza. Can you top that? As a matter of fact, you can.

Tony Bennett was the icing on the cake. I didn't want to take a photo of him because it would have required the flash on my shitty little camera phone, but trust me it was him. There was some early speculation to the situation as we sat at the bar in Roberta's, but as we schemed about the whole thing, we heard the owners being introduced to him as Tony.

Could it be? Was this really the Tony Bennett? Was he in an amazing shit hole looking pizza place in the middle of Bushwick!?

Oh it was baby and I don't mean to make Roberta's sound like a dump. It's just, when you see the tiny, cinderblock-built building from the street, it doesn't look like much, but trust me, it is much... way much! Their pizza is worth the travel alone, even if you live in the Bronx. I would kill a bum, or more preferably a Wall Street whore for a margherita pie with some speck (that's delicious cured ham-porky goodness). I mean fuck. Pizza and pig, why not. I'm gonna die from a heart attack or some sort of cancer, why not cram salty pig into everything and while you're at it, throw Tony Bennett into the mix. He can sing I left my heart in that salt cure, or better yet, in the pizza oven along with some fucking amazing pig love.

So take my advice, and not lightly, take it heavily... GO TO ROBERTA'S! Maybe you'll see Tony Bennett.

Coffee

So the house-roasted coffee came out pretty damn good. It was smooth, with a nice deep chocolate taste. I'm giving myself a pat on the back right now.

Thanks Stumptown

Living in Red Hook, Brooklyn is awesome, but one of the many cherries on top of it all is that it is home to the new Stumptown coffee roastery. You'd think that there would be the most wonderful scents of coffee floating through the air at all times, but there just so happens to be some sort of weird food packing warehouse around the block, which equals shit smell. Well, too bad I guess.

So, today I ran out of coffee, Stumptown of course, and I was in a state of panic. If you came by, you would have found me curled up in the fetal position in the corner of my kitchen hugging my coffee grinder with the last remnants of my precious drug stash. You would have gotten bitten if you came near me, trust me. Due to my love of free shit, I went over to Stumptown's Red Hook roastery to inquire about some burlap sacks in the trash and just as I imagined, they were there. In all their burlappy greatness, there they were, just chillin' in the trash. What does a good ol' nature loving whore do... he takes a few, to do what with, I don't know. I took them nonetheless.

So the Quince and I get home and I freak out at the rattling noise coming from a couple of the burlap coffee sacks. HOLY SHIT, it must be coffee! What do you know, it's a handful o' coffee beans. They were green, unroasted, raw berries. Awesome. Another experiment to be done.

I've now become some sort of super-urban coffee farmer. I'm not picking the beautiful berries off a tree. Instead, I'm dumping what little crop I can harvest from a trashed burlap sack, then digging through it to get every last forgotten morsel, and finally picking the dropped berries from the ground. Look mom, I'm a farmer!

From there, it was cleaning the berries of any dirt and dust, most likely gathered from our apartment's floor and not the trashed burlap sacks.

Into the cast iron they go!

Make sure you stir every so often. They might burn if you don't. I just picked up the cast iron pot, with pot holders of course (don't be stupid), and gave it a few tosses. That was done every ten minutes or so.

After an hour or two, the berries were transformed into something very recognizable... coffee beans of course. What were you expecting? It's not like they were going to just turn into a pot roast or even worse, Carrot Top.

Remember when he looked like that. Still kinda freakish, but in a non-horrific way.

The coffee went through various colors, from green to your average dark roasted beans. Take a look.

Ain't thems purdy.

Check back tomorrow for how the cup of coffee from these beauties comes out.

OMFG...It's Breakfast Time!

To start the day, I did what I always do.

Grind

Boil

Pour

Stir

Wait

Press

Pour

I'm talking about the wonders of a french press. In my mind, there is no other way to make coffee. It's thick, dark, and robust, and I'm not talking about you know what. If you like your coffee, then get yourself a french press. I swear by it.

Another thing that I'll swear by is the coffee made by the boys at Stumptown. I first fell in love with their coffee on a cross country trip a few years ago. On a recommendation from a friend/coffee roaster, I wound up at the foot of Mount Stumptown. It was in Portland, Oregon and no, it wasn't actually a mountain of any kind. It was a place of coffee worship. Nevertheless, the coffee made me mess my pants and I've been hooked ever since.

Luckily for me, the owner and paternal father of Stumptown just happened to move a neighborhood away from me in Brooklyn. He also opened up a roastery, which is located down the street from my apartment, but it gets better. Every time I buy a bag of Stumptown beans, I get to stare at the numbers stamped on the bottom of the bag, which let me know that I'm about to enjoy some f'ing awesome coffee that was brewed only a few days prior to my purchase. Can it get any better?

If you don't know already, I am a total meat whore, and even more so... a total pork whore, but why the hell not. Is there anything on earth that comes close to the taste of cured pork parts? I think not. When you crave a bit of cured pork goodness, there is nothing else that will satisfy that need. In more recent food porn times of my life, I've begun experimenting with curing pork. I've conquered bacon, guanciale, and now I'm working on coppa. It's really not that hard and it's extremely rewarding. You get to cut your bacon to any thickness you want. I like mine super thick, which makes it a bit difficult to cook. You've got to cook it low and slow, but isn't everything cooked that way so much better?

Egg time. These eggs were purchased just yesterday at the Grand Army Plaza farmers market, which means they are local and farmed responsibly. The price wasn't too bad either, only $4.

Some wonderful Vermont Cheddar Cheese from Cabot. Damn good cheese.

Now that you've cooked that thick bacon and removed it from the cast iron pan, crack a couple of eggs into the pan of bacon fat. Fry those babies, or what could have been babies, up. Add a little sea salt, cracked black pepper, and fresh rosemary. Remove from pan and place on a sliced open baguette, add a slice of bacon and cheddar cheese. Now go and enjoy the shit out of that breakfast sandwich, but don't forget that cup of coffee.

Soup & Fried Oysters

What's better than soup on a cold winter's day? Soup with a side of fried oysters.

So after making a trip, in the freezing cold, to a couple of Brooklyn's farmers markets, we were in dire need of sustenance. To rid the cold of our bones, it was decided upon that we would make soup.

Potato, Leek & Carrot Soup

1 Leek

1 Carrot

1 Potato

1/2 chopped

1/2 cubed

Put all ingredients, except the cubed potatoes, in a pot. Add 2 cups of water, 1/2 a stalk of celery, 1 bay leaf, a pinch of sea salt, sage, black pepper, and smoked paprika. Bring to a simmer and cook for 15 - 20 minutes. Remove the bay leaf and take out that stick blender, food processor, or blender and puree until silky smooth, just like my ass when I was about 2. Pour the blended mixture back into the pot and add a splash or two of cream and the cubed potato. Finally, simmer until potatoes are to your liking.

For the fried oysters. We got our hands on some Blue Point oysters from Blue Point, Long Island...DUH. It's not rocket science. Oh, and did I mention that oysters are in season, bitches.

Well onto the hard part. Shuck those oysters. The pros make it look so easy, as do the You Tube videos, but I did not find it to be as easy. After having success with a couple, I did what any good meat loving, kitchen knife enthusiast would do... I went straight for my meat cleaver and started whacking the oysters with the blunt side of the knife. It's not like I was just smashing them to smithereens. I was strategically blasting them with the force of Thor right at the stupid little crustacean's hinge. It only took a couple dead on hits to separate the two halves of the shell. From there, with oyster shucking knife at hand, I directed the knife along the tops and bottoms of the shell's interior to disconnect meaty oyster love from its not so delicious shell.

For the whole fried part of this story, get yourself a bowl of:

a) Buttermilk

b) Seasoned Cornmeal

The seasoned cornmeal was made up of cornmeal, smoked paprika, red pepper, celery seed, and sea salt. Just let the oysters go for a swim in the buttermilk, making sure they are thoroughly coated, then toss them, one at a time, into the cornmeal bowl. Get an even coating of cornmeal on each one and into the fryer they go. Being the total food whores that we are, we happen to have a nifty little deep fryer, but for you poor ass bitches, heat some vegetable oil of your liking in a pot. Make sure it's enough for total oyster submersion. We don't want half fried oysters now do we?

Fry them until golden brown, which only takes like a minute, trust me. Slice up some awesome bread, ours was baked fresh from Roberta's. Get some mayo mixed up with chili powder, smoked paprika, and celery seed. I know, your saying "but I don't like mayo" in that whiney bitch voice that never shuts up. I say shut up and like it. Quinn hates mayo and the way she was gobbling it down, you'd never of guessed it. It was like seeing a freak on the street, eating fistfuls of mayo at a time. Made me want to throw up, but that wasn't an option, taking in to consideration that I had just eaten some awesome food.

Back to what you want to hear. Spread that slice of bread with the sex-freak-gross/tasty-mayo and drop a fried oyster on it. Now shut your trap, chew, and say thanks Kyle for getting me laid. You do know that's what these things do. They get people all hot and bothered. Your girl will practically be naked after the first bite, so long as you did what I told you to and cranked the heat up way too high in your shit box of an apartment, but don't forget to eat your soup.

Who's your daddy!?

Dumplings...why the hell not?

What to do when you have no planned meals and fridge full of random shit?

Well the answer to that question is easy...throw all the shit in a food processor, turn it on, and make dumplings.

There was no set plan for what to make, but we had a strange assortment of leftover ingredients from making some other things.

1/4 lb. of ground beef (locally sourced and bought from The Meat Hook. I spend too much time and money there.)

1 monster sized chicken liver

1 duck leg from previously made Duck Confit (which is as easy to make as scratching your balls in the privacy of your own home.)

1 Shallot

2 Garlic Cloves

1/2 of a Leek

1 Carrot

With those ingredients at hand, chop em all up and from the half court line, toss them into the food processor or blender or just chop them up really fine or chunky or whatever, just make sure it's mixed to your liking and that when you fill up a dumpling wrap it won't burst through like an alien baby exploding out of your recently awoken space ass.

See, this is what I mean by chop finely. The liver looks silky and spreadable. No massive chunks, which also means you and your crew wont share the fate of death due to your chest exploding from the inside out.

From there, I added:

1 Egg

3 tsp Hoisin Sauce

1 tsp Rice Vinegar

2 tsp Dark Soy Sauce

1/4 tsp Cinnamon

1/4 tsp Red Pepper

1 tsp Crystalized Ginger (I didn't have any fresh ginger)

Mix it all together like you did with your favorite songs to cry to playlist from middle school. I'm sorry she was mean to you and dated the quarterback, but now it's time to get over it and make some dinner. Maybe she'll date you now that you're not as much of a little bitch and you can cook. Hey there's an idea, send her a myspace invite for a home cooked dinner. She won't find it creepy that you're still stalking her.

Now that your dumpling mixture is all evenly homogenized, get your dumpling wraps ready and fill each one with 1 Tbsp of dumpling mix.

Once all your dumpling wraps are filled, seal them up with a little bit of egg wash along the edges. You can make any shape you like, we just put the opposite corners together, which all meet at the center making it look like a bunch of little birthday presents. Quinn does such great work when I yell at her.

Now cook them! What? You say you want them fried, now you want them steamed, now you want them fried and steamed!? I say, PERFECT. Over here, in this house, I like them pan fried, but Quinn likes them steamed. How can you possibly do them at the same time? It's quite easy. Just put a little bit of oil in a pan, one that preferably has a lid to it, but if not, just use some tin foil to cover it. Now that your oil is hot, fill it up with dumplings, but don't overcrowd it, you need to get them out easily. Pan fry for a couple of minutes, depending on how dark and crispy you want the bottoms to be.

Now that they are done to your crispy likeness, add some liquid to that hot oily pan, which means WATCH THE FUCK OUT. That hot oil is gonna splatter everywhere so do it quick. Dump the liquid, which in our case was a miso broth (miso paste + water), and throw the lid on unless you like that oil-burned pocked skin look, which is totally in now-a-days, it says "I'm a fearless cook baby, so come over to my place and I'll show you that I can stuff a turkey", and by the way, it's not thanksgiving.

Now that the liquid is steaming your already pan fried dumplings, get a plate and some tongs ready. Once the dumpling wraps begin to cling to the filling and turn a bit translucent, that's see-through for the rest of you assholes, remove the lid and transfer each dumpling to the plate.

To finish these little packages of hot dead animal mix, get a bowl. Add a little soy sauce with some hoisin sauce, red pepper, ginger (or crystalized ginger), garlic, and rice vinegar. Do whatever makes you happy. Some Sriacha would be awesome too.

Now that you're as bloated as can be from what looked like only a small portion of dumplings, and clueless as what to do with the left over mixture, here's a few options:

a) you could make more dumplings dumb ass

b) make a dumpling burger and add some more carrots, thai basil, and Siracha. Banh Mi style.

c) fry it up with some grated potatoes for a different take on hash.

Until next time dad.

Wow

Holy Shit I'm Full.

So who the hell's idea was it to make so much F'ing food? I'm sure I'm as much to blame as any obese food loving whore, but right now I'm going to blame you. Yes you, the person reading this right now (I hope it's you Quinn). Besides it being way too much food, it was probably a bit way too good. I think I over eat because food tends to be so freaking good when people who love it make it.

Besides this meal being particularly delicious, it was right on cue with our goal. Local, or as local as possible, given that there aren't a whole lot of cattle roaming around the streets of Brooklyn, seasonal, and homemade. We were fortunate enough to share the burden with Kelli and Milli, who so graciously helped us out (freeloaders). I mean they didn't even do a dish, not to mention the fact that they didn't even offer to lift a f*@%ing plate (they're gonna kill me for this, but who gives a shit, I still love em).

To begin with, we had an extraordinarily seasonal soup made up of Celery Root and Sun Chokes, which we got from the ever so great Brooklyn Kitchen Labs. It was sweet, earthy and screamed root vegetable.

From the soup, we moved onto the main event . . . well, it was the main event in my mind. Chicken stuffed with freshly ground beef, chicken livers (both from the Meat Hook), croutons made from day old Roberta's bread, shallots, garlic, salt, pepper, homemade bacon, white wine, and sage. My mouth is watering again. The stuffing went a little bit like this...

Then the boneless bird, which, if I say so myself, was quite something... something like a wiggly sack of weird fleshy goodness. It was really awesome tracing around the bones and muscles of a once living creature that god put here on earth only for me to rip its bones from its body and stuff it with more of gods cuddly, delicious creatures. You can never cram too many formerly living things into another formerly living thing. What I did wrong was not stuff a pig into the mix.

He was then slathered up with rosemary-garlic-paprika butter. It's always good to use lubrication, no matter what they say.

Aint he a cutie?

Finally, roast and enjoy. We had him with a side of roasted leeks and cheddar biscuits made by none other than Quinn.

Just look at his beefy insides. They're beautiful.

Oh, and what better to wash it down with than a Tom Collins.

We finished the night with some milk and cookies. We've only got like ten thousand million chocolate chip cookies floating around the kitchen thanks to Quinn and her experiments, but more on that later.

So now I sit here in our quiet apartment at 2:13 a.m.

listening to sounds of an American flag flapping in the frigid winter wind while sipping on some lukewarm green tea. I think about how several animals died so that we could eat so damn well, which really warms my heart and makes me wish that I believed in god so that I could pray for him to place a suckling pig on my table while he emits a glowing light of porky goodness.