2010 goals, summer version

In January, I sat down and wrote food goals for the year. Ambitious, and yet bizarrely practical, la fromagette goes to work (didn't need 30 min dinners in Paris).

Winter gave me time to hit three - I soaked chick peas and froze them, pulled out adzuki and formed them into bean croquettes, went back to "meat" for quick weeknight dinners of tacos, buffalo wings, and chik patties. I drank a lot of water, for a week, and when that trailed off I faithfully drank 16 oz of whole leaf darjeeling at 6:30 am to transition from home to school to the frozen doorway where we greet the students every morning. I boiled whole wheat grains and topped them with yogurt, cranberries and pears, and brought it to meetings where teachers swooned and accused me of spending too much time on breakfast when I saw it as a time saver that was keeping me healthy each morning. I kept up the treats - a bar of Mast Brothers chocolate (newest favorite has roasted hazelnuts), the roasted hazelnuts, endless boxes of olive oil tortas, and as spring came - peas, rhubarb compote, and radishes.

We went to Saltie once, and today dined for a second time at breakfast at Locanda Verde. Big goal of Summer 2010 - Blue Hill at Stone Barns (tiny replication of confirmation email above) dinner this week. We will leave the city early in order to stroll the gardens, the pastures, and the vegetables. My two weeks of vacation will come to a close, but my summer hours and goals will continue through August - almost like the hours of a normal person (8:30-5) - time for tea, toast and perhaps, even working out before work. If not, I'll be in the window at Cafe Grumpy with a SCRATCHbread scone and chai latte, either way - it was bound to be part of my goals for the year.

Matcha Source!

Some time in the cold of winter, I found a link to this matcha site on a tea blog Kristen sent me. Immediately, I sent away for a tiny tin, curious about how it would own up to those leftover, somehow, from Berkeley Bowl (or from a pricey, but still not as flavorful, tin from Mariage Freres that Liam picked up for me last summer in Paris).

Modern, green, nifty, "sift. whisk. enjoy," I ordered a bamboo whisk and whisked away. The vegetal, soft taste was the freshest I'd had, and as soon as this can was complete (refrigerated in between uses), I put out the cash to order the entire set (whisk with more bristles! a celadon stand for it! a bamboo spoon to truly get the 'two almond-size' scoops!).

Tea-making became a moment and that moment was one that I enjoyed last year, before I even had this whole school thing in front of me every day. 3 hours of a calm, caffeinated focus. I was down.

I ordered one for Kristen, stayed on the mailing list, and was delighted when I found out they opened a pop-up store in SoHo in June (now extended through July). I dragged Liam and a litany of questions about achieving the foam level I had only seen in pictures - how are you getting that foam? Is it my water? The temperature? My whisking? (answer: keep my water hot, decrease my water in half, and ensure I had a N/Z method of whisking, never a circle)

I am in love. With matcha.

I bought a tin of the kind for discerning drinkers along with the lovely white tea bowl (above) forced Liam to get an iced matcha, and hope to go back before they close.

My goals for the summer include reading 10 books, going to a farm dinner, finding a personal trainer at the Y to get into a routine I can keep up over the year, and spend each morning reading the paper, drinking tea and eating toast at my leisure - so far, it's been nearly all matcha.

Cooking Class at La Pitchoune

In 2006, I was reading My Life in France as we left Liam's family in the south of France. His brother-in-law saw the book and mentioned that he and Liam's sister managed a property called La Pitchoune. I dropped the book. Then I explained that I was just reading about Julia's time there. We were on our way to the airport, so it seemed it would have to wait until a future trip.

March 2010. Liam gives me a birthday card that says, "lunch at La Pitchoune." I spend five dreadful minutes thinking he means some French restaurant that I've never been to. I rack my brain. He's smiling. He's saying, "think!" My French feels very, very far away. Finally, I realize - La Pitchoune!!!!!

Julia's former house sits up on a small road just 5 minutes from Liam's sister and her family. His sister and brother-in-law knew the place well - they've been helping to rent it for years - and suddenly we were on our way to cook there with the current owner, Kathie Alex, who, among other things, cooked with Simca. As we entered the kitchen, and I saw Paul's pegboard marked with the places for Julia's items, I looked at Liam and smiled.

We cooked a menu for someone like me who "really likes vegetables." Pictured is the tarte tatin aux legumes - named after the dessert since the dough is baked on top and then flipped to serve. We followed that with a salad with fried brie and finally individual pear tarts. There was an apero of verrine of egg, olive tapenade and tomatoes with a kir and a taste of Kathie's nicoise olives, but truly, the best part was hearing Kathie's stories of her own culinary career and where it meshed with Simca and Julia. We ate tarts on Julia's plates and wondered which pastry fork came from her and which from Kathie. We watched peppers roast in the modern oven and spied on pegboard outlines from long lost items.

As we ate the fabulous lunch with glasses of wine and talked about living in France (the electrician came today - I made the initial appointment a year ago! Why are Americans drinking so much water with lunch? What are the benefits of store-bought puff pastry?), I thanked Liam for my best birthday present ever.

And now he knows how to cook another meal too.

As we patiently await the arrival of spring, we're pretending in small ways - sitting in the car in the sun to pretend it's warm, cooking with canned tomatoes to try and create summer, and of course - eating ice cream. We've been frequenting a pan-asian coffee shop of sorts in Ft. Greene for Vietnamese coffee (my absolute smoky sweet favorite) and a pot of chai, and this visit we ordered ice cream sandwiches - one espresso with chocolate chip and two ginger with ginger. Amazing. The crunch of chocolate chips with espresso and the cool spice of ginger sent me beyond snow, snow and more snow and a bit closer to the sweaty nights in our building in the summer where I give in and turn the AC on all night. Almost.

Last year I set an ambitious list of food intentions. I bought Korean chiles, made Korean food a few times, and recently added the bulk of them to homemade chili powder. I never got to flavored cheeses, although I'm committed to cheese only from bklyn larder now. No cheese club, but I'm trying again. The breads never got baked, but they were replaced by piles of whole grains. There were parties before the school, and now that there's the school, there need to be more parties. A few food adventures - Atlantic Avenue, a foray into Flushing, Brighton Beach and Tanoreen. More to come. The 3-star restau was Per Se, and there was also Le Bernadin for my birthday, the latter with bizarre service and a gloriously impromptu singing of happy birthday by a server who had recently forgotten about our table. I have continued to cook dinner, although the time with which I can make it has decreased 50%. At least.

2010 Food Intentions
Drink 16 oz of water first thing each morning.

Dinners of high quality, in less than 30 minutes (freezing, prepping, cooking on the weekends to facilitate)

Whole grain breakfasts each week.

Blog 2-4x/month.

More food adventures - Japanese and Indian to start.

Dining out at an increasingly Italian list: dell'anima, Marea, Blue Hill, Mailano and more Williamsburg bites at Sel de Mer and Saltie.

Delicious treats that make me look forward to lunch (like olive oil tortas with anise pictured above)

Continue to run a school, cook dinner and enjoy food through June.

Bonne Annee!

Antigua

The setting is much more compelling than the wanly lit pictures of food I took too early or too late. There was the mahi-mahi, grilled and accompanied with rice and peas when we first arrived at Siboney Beach Club and its restaurant, Coconut Grove. Rum punch immediately encouraged.

At Darkwood Beach we had home-made ginger beer with our fried fish sandwich (me) and curried goat (Liam). Digestive biscuits and water in between. Dinner at Coconut Grove one night was the local rock lobster (Liam) and channa (me) and the next - coconut shrimp, fried calamari, and pina coladas and more rum punch.

We went to Roti King for lunch by way of Trinidad (we had great dreams of the public market but it was pretty dead this holiday weekend) with veggie roti, doubles, banana bread, and more ginger beer (twice).

Dinner our last night at Papa Zouk - a rum bar with 200 flavors (we just had the P'tit Punch, marinated rum drink) - where they narrate the menu to you like a hip Williamsburg joint. Bouillabase, tapas plate (plantains, butterfish fried, some chicken and 3 dips), a whole snapper grilled with pepper vinegar.

Not enough bananas and never the famed black pineapple, but plenty of ginger drinks and fried fish. Not enough vegetables, but toast and tea on our porch each morning and with the sea rushing under our feet yesterday morning.

It already feels like forever-ago.

Favorite Foods of 2009

Both breads to the left - a semolina/raisin/fennel (toasted with butter please) and The Loaf - parmesan on the bottom, fennel on top and something soft in between (like pan de mie but Brooklyn-i-fied).

Cheeses found at Brooklyn Larder - recent finds, Pierce Hill (raw sheep milk - delicious from the first soft bite to nutty aftertaste) and calcagno, a hard Sardinian sheep's milk that is the best thing since parmigiano-reggiano in my book.

Chocolates that I've chronicled all year - Askinosie white chocolate with cocoa nibs (the perfection of it realized on one of those 90 degree July days when it was so warm it melted in goaty, cacoa-y goodness on my tongue) and Mast Brothers - 72% with salt and pepper, or the new ones - a seasonal spiced pecan and/or the Stumptown Bar with coffee beans.

The toasted cheese with pickles on the side at beer table. And while I'm thinking of them - the pickled eggs with jalapeno powder, ricotta on bread with concord grapes and dehydrated tomato chips have been some of the best treats this year. Other neighborhood dinners at Franny's and that homemade blue cheesecake on the cheese plate at Applewood with garlic toasts.

Lobster Rolls. At the Flea. The budget-buster at Brooklyn Fish Camp.

Broccoli rabe for dinner, days of Irish oats for breakfast, three kinds of salted caramels, and yogurt with a favorite homemade granola recipe or good old muesli.

Weekly coffee Haagen-Dazs, often with fresh whipped cream and Ghiradelli 60% chocolate chips for most of the sweaty summer.

Vanilla cupcake with vanilla frosting at Union Market (the mini-one).

Decaf cappuccinos at Cafe Grumpy while everyone else drinks this amazing fresh roasted coffee.

A cupboard of teas at home and work, predominantly gen mai cha, bancha, kukicha and sencha, but also a few new gyokuro, a first flush darjeeling, and a bottle of Fairway lavendar in my new "tea stick" from my in-laws.

Thinking ahead to 2010 - soups, beans pre-cooked and frozen, some sandwiches that Liam can make during the week (grilled provolone and rapini), and a winter of whole grains. More on that soon.

December

December dinners have included Liam's famous omelet (best with chard and aged gouda) three times during the week, every version of broccoli (or broccoli rabe) with pasta, Annie's (twice), a huge pot of whole grain chili with feta and olive oil (1/2, then frozen, then the other 1/2), a bagel, toast, Chik Patties (a box), and yes, popcorn (cheese grated on top a la francais).

Standards for dinner diminishing by the December day.

I managed salted chocolate caramels, but after advising Sara on the to-do for them, somehow ended up with a candy thermometer at 255 when the chocolate hit the caramel, pulled them off the stove, and ended up caramel frosting.

5 1/4 hours later I had spoon cookies, but rather than recommended 1/2 strawberry and 1/2 cherry preservers (we always end up with jars for 6 mos after), I used four fruits (strawberry, cherry, currant, raspberry), which gave them an aftertaste of aged raspberry.

I treated myself to Gourmet Today (with sticker for Gourmet included) and a book about Japanese cuisine and paged frantically until I found a recipe for Earl Grey truffles. Even a colleague whose tastes admittedly run from Uncrustables to Hormell pepperoni to Eggos told me they were the best chocolate she ever had (they did taste better the next day).

There has been toast for breakfast and sometimes, for dinner. There have been many bags of Cheerios (even a box from my Secret Santa). Mast Brothers continue to make a weekly appearance in my snack bag and for some reason, boxes of soy milk have seemed the right thing drink. And there was the week of Russ & Daughter's whitefish salad on rye crisps on Monday and a tin of piri piri mackerel on Wednesday, leaving our office smelling like cat food.

Today, with just a brioche bumping in my belly for hours of spa indulgence and two cups of tea, I came home to a box in the foyer fantastically festive. My name was on it in red and green.

Cookies.

Good ones. Really good ones.

From Cookbook Club.

I'm not ashamed to admit I cried. Tears that might be more representative of the work it takes to open a new middle school serving low-income students and preparing them for college, but they were real, and they were falling on the cookie box. Ziploc bags. Notes. Comments. Old favorites (moon cookies, cream wafers) and new (alfajores in chocolate, caramel-nutty-amazing-ness).

I brewed a cup of kukicha, ate some cookies for dinner, and finished packing the bag for Antigua.

I miss time to make South Indian feasts and rural Greek pastas for dinner. I miss leftovers that leave colleagues envious as they queue behind me at the microwave. I miss thinking about what to do with turnips all day and braising them in butter that evening. I miss the time to bake a souffle and prepare apples with caramelized maple sauce on the side.

I miss Cookbook Club. Especially in December.

Around the block this fall (favorites)

I knew it was bad when I turned on my personal computer and I hadn't run the virus thing since August 3 - which would also be the last time I'd listened to Good Food. Updated three months worth to listen to during the trip home and in the end, listened to just one.

Inspired by Fall Favorites, what I've been eating when I haven't been trying to get this whole school thing off the ground. We tried a new place in the neighborhood for breakfast (pictured), where the goat cheese and walnut frittate was pretty good and the cappuccinos decent as well. I've been spending a small fortune on each visit to Brooklyn Larder, especially on the quadra bufala cheese - buffalo milk from a talleggio-maker. Yum. Also picked up goat milk caramels with buckwheat (not "pretty," as they were described, but definitely interesting), fantastic fennel/parmesan cheese for Thanksgiving Day lunch (along with more cheese and meats for everyone else) and a semolina/fennel/raisin loaf that I toasted in its entirety within 12 hours.

Within a span of two weeks I ate the veggie dog at Bark no less than 6 times, most of the times accompanied by cheese fries. The buttery toasted bun, the mushroom topping, the pickled mayo, the hot dog that tastes like someone spent time making something delicious...it was worth it.

I've been cooking up whole grain foods to keep me going through the weeks thanks to 101 Cookbooks - whole grain chili, thai pumpkin soup, and caramelizing spicy popcorn to get me through the week.

Last weekend Sara and I went to New Amsterdam Market where we sampled our hearts out and walked out with a crispy crusted cranberry walnut loaf, a carton of white heirloom cranberries, cider jelly that's been made the same way for 100 years, a few hunks of cheese (tomme-style and cloth bound cheddar) and a belly full of sampled coffee, chocolate, and fat oysters.

We topped that off with lobster rolls to celebrate her birthday.

Ate my piece of leftover apple pie with cheddar today and just had a cup of matcha and extra sweet potatoes are roasting in the oven. Maybe that gingerbread from NYT. Maybe some cranberry muffins. Maybe back to Larder for more bread for toast.

Cafe Pedlar

Saturday now means Saturday School, children arriving in their uniforms but with the Saturday addition of sneakers, some with tea in their hands, some still with sleep in their eyes even though we start more than two hours later than a regular school day.

Saturday meant brunch with another principal to compare notes, a plate of jalapeno cheese grits with eggs and tortillas and black tea to cut the chill of the suddenly-fall day. We went separate ways and I remembered a foodie email about Cafe Pedlar.

I looked at my phone. I searched on my map. I realized I was standing right next to it.

Because I had no camera on me, just a bag with a computer, calendar and another full of reading assessments, I took the picture from the foodie email. Olive oil cake soaked in such grassy sweetness. A decaf cappuccino with milk rendered so artistically on top I felt twice as badly adding a dollop of turbinado sugar.

I left with a pretzel roll placed across the reading tests. Highly recommended in aforementioned email I was curious - my choices were sesame or poppy (I chose the former) and the whole thing was so slender I wondered about paying 2.50.

I bit into it last night and loved the absence of salt that takes over your mouth with an actual pretzel, although I yearned for a touch of it with the sweet roll and sweet cream butter, I almost wished I ate it with the smoky roasted cappuccino. It was taking the place of a lazy Saturday dinner though, so I ate it up and just drank water instead.

So good I'm almost tempted to hop back on the F train today to try it again, lest my weekends become a bit too predictable.

Kajitsu

Starting a school has meant much less cooking and blogging. Last week I managed to make corn soup with pimenton and cilantro with some roasted cauliflower (and failed popovers) on the side.

I haven't stopped reading food news though, and read about Kajitsu enough to know I wanted to eat eight courses of Shojin cuisine where I could enjoy each vegan course.

Before we left I said to Liam, "I think some courses will be amazing and a few will be just OK."

I should be a food writer.

The array of foods we had were new, and exciting, to me. Dumpling made of Japanese potato with fresh wasabi on the side. Hand-made (and cut) soba with a seven spice imported from Kyoto. Yuzu fresh in the salad (see picture above) along with kabocha mixed with cous cous, tomato aspic, and a south american fruit that was more seed than pulp. I adored the seitan-like chunks in broth that were more matzo ball than fried tofu, crispy with rice crackers and some other encrustment.

The spaghetti squash with late summer vegetables tasted like sweet and sour veggie stir fry at any Chinese restaurant - the best part being two slim, slightly spicy peppers tempura-d on the side.

The final dish of rice with ginger and house made pickles saved my savory tastes before we embarked into mochi and matcha so frothy I wish I could have had a demo.

Escaping to a mountain stream in Kyoto with a bowl of burdock root is at least a year away, so if I get the craving again in a different season, we might go back, but the service was also a tad too zen for us (we could only get 9pm reservation and this, post-second-week-of-school, still had me exhausted) - the first 3 courses took about 35 minutes to serve. The service sped up for the final five.

For now we'll have some soba and spices as a Wednesday night meal - I can handle that in 30 minutes or less.

Red Hook Lobster Pound Roll

I've been seeking out this roll for several weeks now at the Flea. First time, the line was so horrendously long I began to doubt the sanity of everyone around us (and headed to our true favorite, Red Hook Pupusas). Second time, yesterday, the guy told me "we're 86'd on Connecticuts" as I searched the sign to see what he was referring to - I saw only - butter - mayo - 13.00. I asked for clarification. He said butter = Connecticut. They only had Maines (mayo). Again, I left for pupusas.

Today, we decided to meet Sara at the Brooklyn Bridge Flea and found ourselves the only ones in line at noon. The following conversation transpired:

me: I'll have two with butter.
RHLP: 2 connecticuts!
me: (handing over $30)
RHLP: 2 Maines!
me (to a motioning Liam): those aren't ours, I'm pretty sure he said butter = connecticut.
RHLP: 2 Uconns (Yukons?)
me: silent
RHLP: 2 Connecticuts!
me: taking the roll

Recovering from the confusing nomenclature, we inhaled them. Sara and I were on board, Liam realized maybe he doesn't like lobster as much as he thought. Despite the 8-dollars-more-than-a-pupusa-platter price, we were happy with the crunchy grilled bun and sweet, buttery taste - just glad we clarified the state.

What we ate in June ...

Inside my bathroom mirror is a list of my goals for the year. Friends who've known me for a while will smile, this list is generally written in a flurry of gel pen and bucketed into categories around food and fun and all kinds of self-improvement. I even committed, in glittering blue, to blogging twice a month while starting the school.

I also set food intentions. Less chronicling, more eating, I must've thought. #2 and #1 are still to be determined, but we have been to Bay Ridge for Greek food, Brighton Beach for a Russo-phile's dream and Sunset Park for middle eastern. We've had a spring brunch featuring our new favorite: dutch baby.

I've stewed rhubarb, am jubilee-ing cherries as I type, and have eaten handfuls of peas each week.

I think if I could blog via the Blackberry, I could do more while I wait for elevated trains than re-read work emails too important to type with two fingers to or browse the happenings of people I haven't seen in years on Facebook.

Today we went to Egg. Sunday after a holiday we thought would be quiet, which it was, save the families around us with babies squealing like small birds. Liam ordered the CHB, I got the Eggs Rothko, and a biscuit, and we drew the story of our weekend on the table.

I just forgot to take a picture.

Chickpea Crepes with Ginger and Hot Chiles (Chilla)

I always have chickpea flour (besan) in the cabinet - often for socca, sometimes for Indian dumplings, other times for breading okra before frying. When reading through Julie Sahni's Classic Indian Vegetarian and Grain Cooking, I found my new favorite for breakfast - chilla. According to Sahni, "chilla is a spicy delicacy, a delightful breakfast treat form the eastern regions of India"

She had me at spicy and breakfast.

I mixed these together and pulled out our warped crepe pan for lunch Saturday. According to Sahni, "to best enjoy chilla, serve them with a lot of hot steaming tea, Indian-style," so I put a pot on the stove for my favorite chair recipe while the crepes cooked.

I adore this cookbook and am only through the tiffin section, but still need some urad dal in order to make the other recipes I'm interested in. Several of you asked for the recipe when I told you about it, so here it is as it appears in Sahni's book:

Chickpea Crepes with Ginger and Hot Chiles (Chilla)

1 cup chickpea flour
1 cup water
1 T chopped ginger
2 hot green chiles, chopped
1/8 t. red pepper flakes
1 t coarse sea salt
2 T light sesame oil or light vegetable oil*
extra oil for frying

1. Mix the chickpea flour and water and make a smooth, lump-free batter using processor, blender, or wire whisk. add all the other ingredients except extra oil mix well.
2. To cook the crepes, heat a nonstick frying pan over medium heat until very hot. Then brush the pan lightly with 1/2 to 3/4 t. oil.
3. Pour about 1/4 c of batter into the pan. Tilt the pan to coat it evenly with the batter. Cook the crepe until the underside is browned (about 2 min) Turn and cook the other side for 30-45 seconds. Pour on 1/2 to 1 t. oil during cooking to give the crepe a fried taste and texture. Remove and serve immediately or keep warm, while you make more crepes with the remaining batter. For a crispier taste, use 2-21/2 t. oil per crepe.

*Sesame oil is the Indian kind - light - (Til, I think it's called) - not the darker one found in Asian aisle of stores.

num pang, banh mi. asia dog.

I gripe a lot about not liking vegetarian sandwiches with their days-old roasted eggplants and slimy zucchini slices and bread pink with red pepper. I thought I would never eat a sandwich again after years of this, until I got into the idea of finding banh mi.

Then I read two articles about the banh mi craze, and found some answers.

On a very hot recent Sunday, we went to Num Pang near Union Square to have the peppered catfish (pictured) and pork. My catfish choice was the best - spicy and peppery and sweet and concentrated and briny and all that cilantro.

We were hooked.

When our movie at the cinema across the street burnt out the following weekend, we grabbed the sandwiches and sat upstairs to enjoy as we spied on the goings on at the theater - have they fixed the film? Were those people in the movie with us? Do people still look angry? and we finished our sandwiches and corn covered in spice, chipotle mayo and coconut.

Today I found myself at Brooklyn Flea picking up a lost earring from a fabulous jeweler.
Liam and I split ways after the greenmarket so I was cruising the aisles alone and figured I'd snack before I took off. Red Hook pupusas weren't up yet, so I passed along until I saw asiadog. All kinds of hot dogs covered in all kinds of asian toppings. Brilliantly difficult to choose, so I went with the Vinh - a banh mi topping-ed veggie dog.

The Smart Dog (my personal favorite for veggie dogs - it doesn't have that liquid smokey flavor of Tofu Pups) was charred and then popped into a toasted bun with veggie 'pate,' pickled daikon and carrot, jalapenos, cilantro, and my own squirt of sri acha sauce. It burned deliciously. I can't believe no one has thought of this before?!

My faith in sandwiches (and veggie dogs) has returned.

Brazil, Part 3

Brazilian foods I ate for the first time included acai with granola, banana and honey at a beach shack in Paraty at a table with sand under our feet. Manioc. Farofa. More manioc. Juices of apple and ginger with water weakening it. Lemon verbana and mint. Pineapple and mint. Breakfast foods like a roll that looks like a Parker House meets croissant and is soft as white bread and has something sweet in it like Filipino butter rolls I used to eat in LA. Guava jelly with cheese and toast. Moqueca with soft shell crab. Moqueca with white fish. Moqueca with shrimp. Moqueca with another white fish. Salmon in passion fruit sauce, crunchy, sour and sweet. Guacamole with a tiny searing hot pepper on top. Caiprihinas with incredible amounts of kiwi or pineapple or watermelon or passion fruit or all mixed together. Banana juice with wheat germ. Thick, sweet mango juice. Pao de Queijo. Pastillas de Queijo. Coconut cakes. Coconut soaking in sweet cane syrup. Coconut in cane syrup flattened into a cake. Guava candies. Banana candies covered in chocolate.

Brazil, Part 2

Much of our meals out in Brazil included meat, in fact, nearly all did. I pushed the others to go to churrasco and what a BBQ it was. The others sat waiting for bloody chunks of seared meat to drip on their plates and I went straight to the salad bar of feta and Israeli cous cous, macaroni salad, sushi and French pastries (and lots and lots of veggies).

I filled my plate up and returned to see plantains, olives, butter and other spreads for our bread and more pao de queijo, flipping my coaster over to nao obrigado (and still got some jus on my plate).
Rio made me feel more of a vegetarian than France did, and the others around me were in love with the meat, saying it was the best they ever tasted.

I did like the plantains.

Brazil, Part 1

We arrived in Sao Paolo early morning, traffic creeping around us everywhere as we snaked through slow-moving mid-day streets. We had decided to stay at Fasano, in the Jardins, thinking that the chicest part of SP would decrease our chance of being robbed.

Sao Paolo had several food adventures. We started with Arabia, where we noticed that Brazilians wear jeans and button downs, men patting each other on the back as we dug into labne, fatoosh, and several kinds of breads. A woman next to us ordered watermelon juice and we drank cold mint tea. Dessert was a platter that allowed us to order by baklava and halva before we closed the meal with Arabic coffee.

While we ate our dinner at Fasano, which was incredibly expensive and not that good, we were much happier with our quiet morning at the Mercado Municipal (pictured), where at a chain food stand we had our first pao de queijo and cafe com leites as people around us shopped for Good Friday dinners of kilos of salt cod and olives and fruits.

Before we left for Rio, we visited a cafe across the street from the other swankiest hotel in SP - Emiliano - and had baguettes with cheese, fried eggs, and our first sucos (juices) - Liam's was lemon verbena and mint and pineapple, mine was apple and ginger and cayenne with not nearly enough of the latter two before we grabbed our second pao de queijo for the day. At the airport.

33

on the occasion of my 33rd birthday march 3, the best 33 eats of the past month.

birthday french toast adorned with the lemon to the left. mini-cupcakes from Union Market that are packaged differently every time and have frosting that is white outside and pink-tinged inside. homemade chai. kukicha in the afternoon. korean feast of tofu with garlic sauce, kimchi, soy-pickled jalapenos, and pa jun twice. hard-boiled eggs with anchovies or spicy pickles, spaghetti with meyer lemon, and marinated sardines at franny's. lassi for chana and paratha and lavendar masala chai.

salt cod hash at belcourt again. biscuits with ricotta and jam at belcourt, again. sunny eggs at little d with turkish cheese and beans and flatbread. le bernadin for the birthday with fluke laid out raw with gold leaf and rice krispies.

lemon butter cake. five pieces of white bread that the office manager's mother made. four cheese pies from trinidad bakery that she brought the next day. earl grey in the afternoon. medjool dates and blendheim apricots while i walk the streets of brownsville to spread the word about the school.

tortilla soup. refried red beans. 6.99 bag of tortilla chips. another baked egg.

all courses of our lunch at per se: cauliflower panna cotta with sweet and sour capers, salad with walnut beignets and stewed rhubarb, anglotti with goat cheese, homemade nougat and truffles and caramels, and the wine.

Belcourt Brunch

We missed brunch in Paris, trying to re-create it with courses of yogurt and muesli, pancakes, and some purchased croissants. It ended up looking more like Swedish breakfast. Our first week together in Brooklyn this fall, it was straight to brunch a few blocks from here.

Bellinis with maple, omelettes with squash and fresh cheese, biscuits and grits with it all, we were gladly American again.

As the months have passed, we've rarely branched out - who wants to travel further than a few blocks on a weekend morning (especially one peppered with snow or wind)?

Then I read on Tasting Table about a brunch place that had "reasonable" prices and took reservations. Somewhere in between the "house made labneh" and "home made biscuits with fresh ricotta, raw honey and preserves" I decided we would brave the slow Sunday F train to get there.

Early birds were there long before Belcourt opened, but despite the trek and snow flurries it met our highest expectations. Those biscuits were a definite, as well as the labneh, and Liam ordered Croque Madame while I had the salt cod hash with poached eggs and harissa pictured above.

It was like Paris - tarnished mirrors and tin bathroom walls and tight seating and harissa sprinkled in, but also with the luscious biscuits and ricotta and brunch feel that we missed.

I know, I know - it's been 8 months for me, and a few less for Liam - but we still feel really grateful for brunch. Even when it's not in Brooklyn.