I realized lately, somewhat wearily, that almost everything Jake and I do is in some way connected to the fight against the constant decay of things. I buy food, week after week, and seemingly overnight berries become watery with overripeness, bananas blacken, and zucchinis shrivel. Bread stales in just a matter of days. A clean home becomes coated with dust and dirt in a flash. Cars wear down, and must be repaired once piece at a time. Clothes are worn and must be replaced. Even our bodies, healthy now as they may be, are destined to wear out eventually. Everything we have is moving at an unstoppable pace towards decay, and understanding this made my mind very, very tired.

Somehow, among the slow collapse of all our physical possessions, one of the little victories that restores my vitality everyday is enjoying really good food. Nothing puts to rest a difficult day of work like a spectacular dinner, especially with my loved ones. It needn’t even be prepared by your hands– some days your hands need to rest. Just the past two nights Jake and I dined out– at the same restaurant both nights, which is a funny thing to have done in such a full city– and we were so hungry each time that we spent the whole meal talking about how good the food was. He could not stop talking about his sandwich with buffalo sauce (gross!), which was pretty adorable seeing as how he rarely comments on food at all. I was destroying my quesadilla like it was my last meal, going on and on about how I could eat mexican dishes for the rest of my life and be satisfied– of course with salsa and guac piled high, and fresh crunchy lettuce and sour cream all on cheesy bites of tortilla being stuffed in between words. Reveling in the awesomeness of a good meal is the same as enjoying the blissful sounds of music, or breathing fresh, salty air at the side of a beach– it restores the weary soul by nourishing the tired body.

Everything ends. We work for passions and for wages, but in the end we will leave the same as we came, with nothing at all. Our minds contribute great things to this world, but when it is all passed we will mostly be forgotten, and all our days of toil will be gone. Material possessions are dying with each passing moment, and every one of them will be gone eventually. There is Joy in little moments, the kind that makes all our restless work seem right. Some of this Joy is found around a dinner table, with twinkling glasses and hearty bread, or alone on a park bench, with a brown paper bag full of freshly fried mushrooms– basking in one of the simplest and happiest things on Earth– eating great food.

I urge you all– revel in tasty dishes. Sip a glass of wine, and let the greatness of the flavor wash over you. Eat a perfectly yolky Oeufs en Cocotte and experience each bite like you are taking in the sight of beautiful art or the rush of a speeding roller-coaster. It is just an ordinary Joy, but it is one of the few we really have in life. It will recharge you, from somewhere deep within.

Oeufs en Cocotte (with garlicky greens and rosy potato cups)

You will need:

• 1 potato, thinly sliced (use a mandolin or a potato peeler)
• 2 cups kale
• 2 cloves garlic
• 1/2 onion, diced
• 4 eggs
• 1/4 cup cream (whatever milk you have, or cheese– many things will do.)
• oil and butter
• salt and pepper to taste

Over medium heat, cook the onion until fragrant, in butter and oil. Add the kale and cook the greens down until they are darkened and tender. Add the garlic, and sauté until the greens are damp and flavorful (about 15-20 minutes altogether.) Thinly slice the potato, and fan them out so that each is overlapping, into buttered little ramekins, like the photo below.

 Fill the bottom with the cooked kale, then add a splash of cream, cheese, or just plain milk. Crack an egg over this, and sprinkle the top with salt and pepper.

Place the ramekins in a cast iron pan, and fill the pan halfway with hot water from your teakettle. Bake at 350 degrees for 15-17 minutes, depending on how you like your eggs to be cooked. Some may find it helps to cover them in the last few moments of baking, to help the whites along without overcooking the yolk. Top with fresh herbs, and eat with buttered toast points. You do not have to use the potato rounds, but if you do the whole thing will pop right out of the ramekin, and has an elegant way about itself. Oeufs de Cocotte means simply, eggs in pots, and so you can add or remove anything to this recipe and it will be delicious and lovely still.

Ingredients:
A pound of figs (a carton)
One small wheel of brie cheese
One french baguette (you can buy par-baked if you want)
Juice of one lemon
One cup of white sugar

First of all, purchase dark figs that are soft when you squeeze them. This means they are ripe and sweet. Because you will be making fig jam with them. 

Pre-heat your oven to 350 degrees. Cut the figs into small pieces, put them in a non-reactive sauce pot and add the lemon and sugar. Put the stove on medium, and stir occasionally until the liquid evaporates, and then after about a half hour, whisk the soggy figs into a jam.

While the figs are cooking, slice the baguette at an angle, so you get fancy little slices of French baguette. Using a serrated knife helps a ton. Cut about 12-15 pieces. Cut the brie cheese into strips that will easily fit your fancy slices of bread and of course, your fancy. I like using a lot of brie because that is who I am.

Okay. So once the fig jam has been made, set aside into a bowl. Arrange your bread, brie, and fig jam and prepare to make little sandwiches.

Spread the fig jam onto your bread with a spoon, and place the strips of brie on top. Place the figs (which should be on a sheet of some sort) onto the middle rack and leave them in for ten minutes. The brie should be completely melted and the bread should be nice and toasty.

And there you have it. Don’t you feel so fancy that you just can’t bear it?? Now go crunch away and enjoy autumn while it’s not here.

-Gina Vaynshteyn

Place bacon in a skillet, cook over medium heat until brown. Drain bacon using paper towels. In medium sized bowl, whip together mayo and sour cream. Crumble bacon into pieces and blend into mayo mixture.

Completely drain the fresh tomatoes, to remove excess moisture. Mix in just before serving. Serve with toast points.

(photo source)

“But Garky,” you might object, “eggs aren’t a trend — they’re a staple.” No argument there: I do eat eggs, in some form or other, nearly every day.* Many of us do. Runny fried eggs for breakfast is a relatively new occurrence, considering that I’ve had homemade muesli (or a Mission Pie muffin) for my morning meal every day for months & months. (Sidenote: if you haven’t yet made your own muesli, what the hell are you waiting for? From one former muesli-hater to another, get yer ass to Whole Foods and get the necessary ingredients stat.)

This ramble isn’t about muesli, though: it’s about my newfound love of fried eggs, my fresh-formed acceptance of runny yolks. Egg yolk and I have quite a history; mostly, this history contains stories of me shunning yolk, refusing to look in its direction, and slamming the phone back into its cradle whenever y. called. For years & years, I wouldn’t eat a yolk that wasn’t cooked through. I wouldn’t eat eggs until my late teens.

Now, though, a whole new (viscous) world has opened. That’s right: these past few weekends, I’ve had fried eggs for breakfast — with toast, dabbed with Cholula, served alongside melty onions and peppers — and I’ve come to quite enjoy sopping up that bright yellow goo with my moderately buttered bread.

Sunday, my egg enjoyment reached extraordinary heights when Alex fried eggs in the fat rendered from our just-cooked bacon. Certainly, my eyes widened as A. poured back into the skillet a splash of the hot grease; they widened further as A. broke two eggs in the skillet. I wasn’t sure how to feel about this preparation method: my primary fear, aside from imminent cardiac arrest, was that my egg would be too greasy.

Fact: before Sunday, I’d never had an egg cooked in bacon fat.** Indeed, the only (identifiably) bacon-fat-infused food I’d tried was cornbread, made by some MFA-program compatriots who brought one heavy loaf to a faculty/student picnic. That was some damn good cornbread. But eggs? Mine are always cooked in butter or (gasp) nonstick cooking spray. (Don’t hurt me!)

I approached my egg with trepidation, tining it to release its runny yolk, watching said yolk dribble over my toast points. The egg itself was beautiful: faintly sheened, speckled with black, looking like it belonged to an early 20th-century novel. Fortunately for me, its taste stood up to its striking appearance; far from being too oily, the egg was rich, smoky. Spotted with hot sauce and eaten with tiny bites of toast (and bacon!), it was wholly comforting.

Incrementally, I’m learning my lessons: bacon fat is pretty effing tasty, and egg yolk and I may yet become friends. We’ve reached frenemy level, for now, but I’m warming. I’m not made of stone, after all.

***

*I don’t often think of the eggs I eat in deconstructed/”invisible” form — those stirred into cake batter (or pancakes, or muffins) — but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist, yo hey?

**That I can recall. There’s a slight chance that I’d eaten one on some camping trip, or maybe at my grandparents’ house (my grandparents who kept a bigass jar of cooking fat on their countertop), but for the sake of the story, we’ll say this was my first fat-fried egg.

Then I was going to write a normal movie review of “Limitless,” but words/structure got in the way. So I decided to write this little letter instead.

The FML posits that Bradley Cooper's career - not just Eddie Morra his character - is now LIMITLESS

Dear Bradley,

“Limitless.”

Wow.

I know it sounds weird, but I loved it.

And I loved you in it.

“Limitless” reminded me of what a fun thriller should be – and has not been in a long time. People regularly made solid but somewhat brainless films like this in the 1980s when they had to make films that were entertaining in both plot and performance – and people had to “act” and not every film could be based on special effects, being based on a graphic novel, or a reboot of a previous movie. They needed stars to open films.  Back then, we were not able to rely on “cgi” and “fixing it in post.” It all had to be there locked in the camera, in the film – in performance.

The 8o’s was the time of big stars: Tom Cruise, Julia Roberts, and Robin Williams. I never thought I would remember that time so fondly. But geez, you made it possible with your performance in this movie, and maybe better than anyone else has in a long, long time. You became the alpha-male and A-list superstar that we didn’t deserve – but needed. James Bond who?  Brad Pitt who? #teambradley

Sure, the plot of “Limitless” did not all add up in the end. And I’m not sure if there was even a clear antagonist (or a formal ending) in this movie. I also don’t know what happened to that dead model subplot. I guess once you are not “ID’d” in a line-up you’re home free as a criminal. I thought the cops might order a DNA test – but I guess they had better things to do.

But that doesn’t matter. And it’s also the point. Because this movie was about your performance.

“Limitless” was NOT the most well written movie ever, but neither was “Cocktail,” “Sleeping with The Enemy,” or “Moscow on The Hudson.” And “Limitless” reminded me of those – and I mean that in the best possible way. Because those were all huge hit films that existed and succeeded because of their respective stars. And I saw and loved all of those films. YOU made it work. I don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve seen a movie like that, where the star, and the star ALONE, made it work (seriously – does anyone remember?).

There were a few scenes where you made tiny minuscule things come alive in ways that only a star could. I’m specifically thinking of the scene where you eat the toast points. It was probably better than the entirety of “The Lincoln Lawyer.” It REALLY made me think you were: starving/ in command of the situation/ hungry for toast points (and made me hungry for toast points)!

I mean there have been great performances in the past few years, but even the greatest, like Colin Firth in “The King’s Speech,”or Jesse Eisenberg in “Social Network” were complimented by supporting actors who filmed scenes and advanced the plot without Colin and Jesse in them. Here your character was in every. single. scene. Not to belabor the point but this has been done before and it usually is a horrible idea. Instead, here, I really really wanted to see what your character did from scene to scene even when it didn’t make sense (toast points) and the plot was being dropped, forgotten (the dead model).

You win Bradley. This was a Kobe Bryant/Jimmer Fredette win/performance. A lot of people always thought you were the most handsome/sexy dude in Hollywood. And it’s true. But it’s more than that now. You’re taking it to the streets, running entire movies on your own – something that even today’s biggest stars can’t do.

See you on Memorial Day in Hangover 2. But we all know that one is money in the bank in terms of prospects, at least when compared to what the prospects were for this movie. Some were wondering if this movie would open #1. Oh yeah. Boom. More like Hangover who?

You win Bradley Cooper, my moviegoing heart at least.

Yours truly,

miguel c/o thefml.wordpress.com

We’re not sure where we get our delusion of grandeur, but for New Year’s parties, our thoughts turn to Gatsby era ideals: buttery oyster toast or oysters Rockefeller and plenty of bubbly.

And there’s always Truman Capote’s Black and White Ball favourite, chicken hash. Served as a midnight supper, this would look rather smashing served in a silver chafing dish.

AT NEW YEAR’S, we especially think of lobster although the mere thought of  this recipe makes our jeans feel tighter. Damn you lobster spaghetti. Damn you!

We have been hoarding saving two versions of this famous Montreal recipe. We have both the restaurant’s offering and a home version from Bonnie Stern. We are thinking that Bonnie’s might be the winner, as she goes the extra step of steeping lobster shells in the cream for more flavour. Also, peas? Really? We’ll stick with Bonnie’s version below.

JOE BEEF’S LOBSTER SPAGHETTI

3 lobsters, cooked, meat and shells reserved

3 cups (750mL) whipping cream

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 bay leaf

4 sprigs fresh thyme

2 tbsp (25mL) cognac or brandy

1 sprig fresh tarragon

½ tsp (2mL) Tabasco sauce

4 oz (125g) thick bacon, cut into 1″ (2.5cm) pieces

1 pkg spaghetti

1 tsp (5mL) salt or more to taste

½ tsp (2mL) freshly ground coarse black pepper

2 tbsp (25mL) chopped fresh chives or tarragon

Cut lobster in large chunks. Reserve. Place cream in a large saucepan and add garlic, bay leaf, thyme, brandy, tarragon and Tabasco. Bring to a boil. Add lobster shells. Cook very gently about 1 hour. Strain cream into a deep wide skillet or wok. Cook bacon until crisp. Drain on paper towels. Just before serving, cook spaghetti in a large pot of boiling, salted water until almost tender. Add lobster pieces to cream and gently reheat. Drain pasta, reserving 1 cup (250mL) pasta cooking liquid. Add spaghetti to cream. Add bacon. Cook gently until sauce coats noodles well. Season to taste. If mixture is too thick add some reserved cooking liquid. Serve in a mound with fresh herbs and additional pepper sprinkled on top. Makes 4 to 6 servings.

Lobster Spaghetti Recipe from Joe Beef’s

2 4 1-1/4 lb. lobsters, cooked, chilled and cracked

1/2 lb. spaghetti 8 slices bacon, diced

1/4 cup brandy

1 cup peas

3/4 cup 35% cream

3/4 cup half-and-half cream

Salt and pepper

Chopped chives Remove meat from lobster tail, claws and knuckles. Chop into large chunks. Reserve. Cook pasta in large pot of boiling, salted water until tender. Drain and reserve. Meanwhile, sauté diced bacon in large frying pan over medium-high heat until crispy. Remove all but 1 tbsp of fat from pan. Add brandy and boil 15 seconds. Add peas and sauté until tender, about 1 minute. Add cream and bring to a boil. Boil 1 minute. Add half-and-half and lobster meat and cook until heated through. Add pasta and combine well using tongs. Season well with salt and pepper. Garnish with chopped chives.

But let’s be honest. I’ve had several people offer, nay.. suggest they should take pictures for my blog. Sure, they’re photographers, journalists, people with real cameras, whatever. And I could be flattered. But I know the real reason, and I’m onto you do-gooders. I’m a terrible photographer. This is not up for debate.

To all of those who say anyone can be a photographer, that it’s just point-and-shoot, you’re wrong. Take me for example. Maybe I have an unsteady hand. Maybe I just don’t get it. Maybe I got my father’s cut-off-at-the-forehead portrait-taking skills. My mother and my sister are fantastic photographers. Me? I’m better with a kitschy Polaroid. See? It’s not supposed to be clear. That’s what makes it cool. All lies. I’m just a bad photographer.

However, I like to think my amateur cooking skills make up for at least an eighth of that. So here we go.

My sister’s birthday was five days ago, coincidentally the day I was handed down the old camera, and I was reminded of the old days when we didn’t “get” that it was her birthday, and that’s why she was getting all the presents. We each got something small, but it never really clicked why the cake had Simba on it when you were going through a categorically Ariel phase.

Anyway, she requested I make my famous mashed potatoes and a smoked salmon dip, a favorite of hers from a restaurant we dig. Knowing the restaurant used actually freshly smoked salmon, rather than cured salmon, I went in anyway, with a tiny slab of the cured stuff. Here’s the finished product:

Not bad. Not bad at all. In fact.. quite good!

Smoked Salmon Dip with Dill

Ingredients:
10 oz. smoked salmon, chopped
1/2 T sour cream
1/2 T cream cheese
2 t mayonnaise
1 – 2 t fresh lemon juice
2 + t dried dill (less if using fresh)
fresh ground pepper

Directions:
Combine all ingredients except the salmon, starting with 1 teaspoon of lemon juice. Stir in salmon and taste. Season to liking with more lemon juice, dill, or pepper. Serve with toast points or crackers or whatever you want

Presentation #1:  Lobster Ravioli with a house-made marinara and garlic toast points

Presentation #2:  Sel de Soleil Bacon Wrapped Hot Wings

 Sel de Soleil is an Indian Harvest Sea Salt blend which consists of: coarse sea salt, pure ground lemon peel, basil leaf & lavender buds.  Per Jason, “They were awesome!!!”Don’t forget to participate in the March 2009 Exercise.   E-mail jeffrey@bauscherinc.com.

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