Marie Fromage

Bites: The Holiday Cheese Log, Jim Malone, Fette Sau

The holidays, the holidays, the holidays. I have been driven to distraction by the holidays and all that they entail, which is why my postings have been rather irregular of late. But you are always on my mind, and there are many exciting things coming in 2008. I wish you all the best for this holiday season and for the New Year!

Cheese of the Week: The Cheese Log

“Nothing says holidays like a cheese log.”– Ellen DeGeneres

The cheese log. It’s a delicious smush of spreadable “cheese”, usually a mix of cheddar, swiss, blue or – gasp! – Velveeta. Add some cream cheese and then, really, anything your heart desires and what you have is a personal culinary expression of cheesy goodness. The cheese log (also known as” The Cheese Ball”) was probably the post-war hip hostess dish of the 1950’s and the simplicity and deliciousness of this creation spread across America like wildfire. Your grandma always put out a good, basic, honest one rolled in chopped walnuts. Your mom upped the ante and makes sure hers is swirled with port wine and rolled in gourmet mixed roasted nuts. Your sister Mary, the competitive one, goes all out and adds goat cheese, sundried tomatoes, cornichon pickles or whatever the trendy ingredient of the day is, all rolled in fresh herbs and toasted pine nuts. The cheese log is always best served with Triscuits or Ritz crackers, because that’s what folks really like and somehow it just doesn’t seem right to serve it any other way. So show some love and bring a cheese log to a party near you!

*** Shameless Plug Alert! *** Shameless Plug Alert! ***Jim Malone

Welcome to “Shameless Plug Alert”, the section of my blog where I serve up a great big sloppy slice of love to my creative friends. This week’s artist: Jim Malone.

Jim Malone recently performed an acoustic gig to support his new CD “Malone Alone”. His style is a mix of influences ranging from Dylan, Neil Young, The Beatles, Van Morrison, Otis Redding, Elvis Costello, Wilco, or as he himself says, “AM Radio in the Seventies” to name a few. He’s a little bit country and a little bit rock & roll. A little blues and a little soul. Shake it all up and what you have is a sound that is uniquely Malone.

On past CDs his compelling songs covered themes ranging from tortured love and lust, loneliness, rage and obsession all set against rocking rhythms. However the songs on his new CD represent a new phase for Malone – still edgy but now one about change and the passage of time, settling down, touching base and finding peace.

All of the tunes are winners. My favorites include “I’m Gonna Build a Log Cabin” which quotes an old traditional Appalachian folk song set against an electronic beat. “Autobiography” is a peppy, pop-infused letter to old lovers & friends. “It Rolls Like Rain” makes you want to hop in your car with a pal, crank it up and sing at the top of your lungs. “Run to Another” breaks your heart with its regret told with gorgeous simplicity.

Can you tell I’m a big fan? I think he’s one of the best songwriters out there. “Malone Alone” is available for song samples and download via his MySpace page: www.myspace.com/malonealone

Fette Sau

I'm a born & bred Northern New Jersey-ite. A true Yankee according to my southern friends. I know more about what a good Veal Parmigiano should taste like than good BBQ. I don't know from 'Q. But I do know good food and what they’re smoking up over at Fette Sau is some good eats.

Last weekend Gastro Chic, Cheese Master Martin, The Design Maven & I trekked out to Williamsburg to the newly famous pork palace for a long overdue meeting of the minds. It was my third visit and I have been dreaming – craving – the smoked and tender Berkshire pork in its many forms.

This is a no-frills spot; Fette Sau is in a converted auto mechanics shop. It has a utilitarian feel to it, with cement floors and walls and long picnic tables. It’s also quirky – the beer pulls at the bar are made of knives and meat cleavers. The grouting for the white subway tiles around the bar is blood red. There are paintings of different cuts of meat on the walls. There is a video of a burning log playing on the flat screen TV. There is a giant smoker behind the counter. And the smell of delicious BBQ smacks you in the face when you open the door and it permeates every nook and cranny of the place.

We came here for the meat, and meat is what we got. It’s all good as far as I’m concerned, but this time I went straight for the fall off the bone pork ribs and smoked beef cheeks. They both had a sweet and peppery rub and were cooked to tender perfection (sauce here is served on the side). I have to say the side dishes here are an afterthought and were completely underwhelming, except for an order of Gus’ crunchy half sour pickles, which provided the perfect briny foil to the succulent smokiness. We also came for the bourbon. Fette Sau offers a wide selection of artisinal bourbons and has recently begun offering bourbon “flights” to help expand one’s bourbon appreciation, which I appreciate!

The following morning I opened my purse and was greeted with a blast of smoky memory, which made me laugh out loud and remember that I had some leftover ribs in the fridge to eat for dinner. Would I make the trek again? You betcha, just say the word.

Bites: The Perfectionist Takes a Holiday, The Swell Season, Pamplona

The Perfectionist Takes a Holiday, with Recipe

Well folks, I took a big step this past Thanksgiving and did something I don’t believe I’ve ever done: I relinquished absolute culinary control over the family meal. Yes, you heard me. It’s true (at least to me). I am a little surprised myself and I don’t really know why exactly, other than I just let go.

The usual drill is this: I discuss (or dictate?) the menu to my mother, who does the shopping. I then arrive early to get a head start on the cooking in time for the sit-down. But this year I just said “Let’s cut back on the side dishes”, and told my siblings to take care of dessert. When I arrived most everything was done; the table was set with the beautiful silver and china, and all that really needed to be done was cook the bird and make the mashed potatoes. I do like to control the potatoes, and will never give that up! This year I decided to forgo the peeling and the whipping and just made them “smashed”. As in not drunk, just crushed, peels and all, with butter, milk, a bit of cream, salt & pepper. It went over well.

Yes, I gave up absolute kitchen control and the meal was delicious. But a note to my Irish meat-and-potatoes family: peas don’t count as a green vegetable (“yeah, we know Marie, but there's no harm in eating like this for one day.”). My brother Drac made a delicious apple crisp from a coveted recipe, gifted to him and him alone from my sister-in-law Viv. And someone put a can of Redi-Whip on the table and I didn’t pass out. This was big!

A relaxing and fun day was had by all, because we focused on the little kids, each other and had a lot of laughs. Isn’t that the whole point of this holiday?

Smashed Potatoes
Recipe Courtesy of Mary Connolly

Yield: 8-10 servings

Ingredients:
5 pounds Yukon Gold potatoes
2-3 cloves of garlic, peeled and left whole, but slightly crushed
1 stick unsalted butter
1/2 cup whole milk
1/2 cup light cream
Kosher salt & pepper, to taste

1. Scrub, but don’t peel the potatoes. Cut into quarters and place into a large pot. Add the peeled garlic cloves. Fill the pot with water until it just covers the potatoes. Throw in a handful of kosher salt, give it a stir, put a lid on it, turn on the flame and bring to a boil.

2. When the water has started to boil, reduce to a simmer and cook the potatoes until tender. How to tell when it's tender? After about 20 minutes you may insert a knife into a piece to see if it’s soft. Or, smash it up against the side of the pot with a spoon. If this happens with little to no resistance, they are ready. Overall this will take about 20-30 minutes, more or less.

3. While waiting for potatoes to cook, warm up the milk and cream together in a small pot.

4. Cut the butter into cubes.

5. Drain the cooked potatoes and garlic cloves and return to the pot (you decide if you want to mash the garlic cloves along with the potatoes. Depends on the crowd). Throw in the butter and stir to combine. Then, using a potato masher, slowly add the warm cream-milk mixture and smash until the whole thing is combined and creamy.

6. Add salt and fresh cracked black pepper to taste. Serve it hot!

The Swell Season

I love it when music gives me the chills. Especially the head-to-toe, isn’t-this-amazing variety. I got a major case of the chills on November 19 when my friend Jeannette LaChaz and I went to see The Swell Season perform to a sold-out house at The Beacon.

The Swell Season is comprised of Glen Hansard, best known for his work with the Irish group The Frames and Czech singer and multi-instrumentalist Markéta Irglová. They burst onto the scene over the summer in the wonderful film “Once”, in which they starred, along with their fantastic music (see my 8/28/07 post for more about the movie).

The concert featured Hansard on acoustic guitar and vocals and Irglová on piano, guitar and vocals, along with a backing band comprised of fellow Frames members Colm MacConIomaire on violin and Joe Doyle on bass, rounded out with cello on an unadorned stage. It was a simple, unpretentious line-up that delivered a deeply satisfying sound.

The show really belonged to Hansard, a modern Irish troubadour with a ragged guitar, who's full of edge and soul and that unique brand of Irish melodic sweetness that gently breaks your heart, in a good way.

LaChaz made a good point as we were leaving the theater. She said “You know, we caught them at just the right time. They’re going to get some kind of Oscar nomination, and then no one will be able to get near them.” And we were lucky enough to have been right there, up close front and center, and it was one of the best nights of music - ever.

Pamplona

I am a big fan of Chef Alex Ureña. When he opened his eponymous restaurant early last year I got there right in the beginning and liked it so much I went back several times after that. I brought friends for birthday dinners. I brought friends from the office. I told everyone. The food was that good. Chef Ureña’s background is steeped in classic French technique, along with being a disciple of the techniques of Spanish molecular gastronomy maestro Ferrán Adrià. He presented dishes that had exciting tastes and textures that were not of Spain but deeply inspired by Spain. The desserts were especially thrilling, playing on the sweet-salty theme I love so dearly.

That being said, there were big problems with the space and the service. The room was beige and lit by fluorescent lights. It looked like a non-descript “formal” dining room at a Sheraton out on a highway by the airport. The waitstaff tried too hard and ended up looking clumsy and amateurish. These downsides were a shame, because the food deserved better than that.

I’m obviously not the only one who thought so, because they closed
down shop for a minute, shook things up a bit, and re-opened as Pamplona, Ureña’s take on Spanish Tapas. I couldn’t wait to check it out so I contacted my “partner in dine” Gastro Chic and we scheduled our next outing. The room is now a warm chocolate brown. They’ve rearranged the layout so it feels more open. The lighting is dim. It’s warm. It’s lively. I was hopeful.

The serious cooking is still here, but it’s scaled back a bit and more accessible. We sampled chickpea fries that weren’t really fries but golden squares with crispy exteriors drizzled with a pepper emulsion that yielded savory creaminess within. The plate of white asparagus with a truffle-oil poached egg and fresh chorizo had a nice contrast in textures and the truffle oil flavor was pleasantly subtle (though I was surprised to see truffle oil on the menu because the synthetic “super truffle” flavor is usually so overpowering and fake and seems to have fallen out of favor). We also enjoyed a shared plate of succulent Cochinillo, a block of suckling pig served with carmelized apples, swiss chard and pureed celery root.

There are still a few flaws. The service is friendly but awkward. We were stalked by two flies during our entire meal (Why us? Why?). And the fabulous innovative desserts of yore have been replaced by an unremarkable selection. We chose the churros with a chocolate dipping sauce. They were fine, but I should have spent those calories on another glass of Spanish wine.

All in all, Pamplona is an exceptional addition to the current tapas bar scene and I will definitely go back. It’s also an interesting new chapter in the career of a talented chef that we should keep an eye on.
Pamplona: 37 East 28th Street between Park Avenue South and Madison Avenue, 212-213-2328.

Copyright © 2007 Mary Connolly All Rights Reserved