Motorino

Last Friday some friends and I visited newly-liquor-licensed pizza place Motorino in Williamsburg. I had been meaning to give it a shot for a while, and the combined factors of finally being able to get a beer and a mini-review by, as Eater sometimes calls him, Frank the Tank Bruni, finally gave me the push I needed.

I was terrified that there was going to be a long wait, not only because of the recent review, but also because usually you have to wait for anything good in Billysburg. Magically, there wasn't, and we were seated promptly right next to a giant ad hoc air conditioner. Although I am usually complaining about restaurants being too cold, this thing was a blessing. The decor was nice: a giant brick oven in the back and cool (in temperature) marble tables throughout the dining room. There was also a tiny cup of moss on every table, which we thought was a nice touch.


via Nick Sherman on Flickr

Billie ordered the Prosciutto de Parma pizza which I just spent ages trying to find a picture of (no luck)because you will not believe how generous they were with the toppings. This stuff was falling off the edges--amazing.

I had an anchovy pizza because I knew that since they're personally sized I could indulge in this gross liking of mine. It also made me remember a time when my mom and a waitress ganged up on poor anemic vegetarian me and made me eat an anchovy. I remember being horrified, but somewhere along the lines I picked up a liking for these guys. They just taste like salt. I love salt.

Anyway, the pizza was really wonderful. Not soggy at all and the crust had that wonderful Neapolitan crackle without turning into a cracker. I know I should be sophisticated and like that sort of crunchy pizza, but I just don't. I love pizza crust, and this stuff delivered. (Ha! Get it! Motorino does deliver, btw.) All the toppings tasted fresh and wonderful and the sauce was a perfect consistency of thick enough to keep your toppings in place without tasting like tomato paste.


via Jeffrey Allen on Flickr

Kate had a seasonal pizza, of which there were a few. The brussels sprouts and speck pie was tempting, but ultimately she went with the "basil, garlic, some kind of meat, and some other weird thing i don't remember the name of
and red onion" Pizza. Later conversation revealed the meat to probably be mortadella. Anyway, it was good.

All three of us polished off our pizzas, only offering bites--not slices--to our table-mates. Our waitress was friendly and more attentive than almost any other waiter I've had in Brooklyn. Unfortunately for her, the people at the table next to us were a little obnoxious. The guy was complaining that there was no cheese on his pizza and sent it back, urging her to give it to someone else "so that it doesn't go to waste." Dear Sir, no one wants your rejected pizza. Also, read the menu before you order. This isn't Pizza Hut (or Slut, as we called it in high school), and your pizza doesn't automatically come with half a pound of processed cheese product.

To conclude: Motorino: go there. Oh and P.S. They're opening one in Manhattan.

Motorino
319 Graham Ave.
Williamsburg, Brooklyn
http://www.motorinopizza.com/

Gazpacho

DISCLAIMER: Apparently, gazpacho is one of those dishes where everyone gets VERY defensive about how you make it. Therefore, I just want everyone to know that this is just a gazpacho I happened to make, not how I recommend you make gazpacho every summer for the rest of your life. K? K.

So it recently, finally, started to feel like summer in NYC, which means that when you live in a 4th Floor walk-up, you don't want a panini or something else hot for lunch because it's too humid for that. Also, I've developed an all-of-a-sudden aversion to sandwich bread. So I needed something for lunch that didn't involve heat or sandwiches.

Enter, gazpacho. I LOVE gazpacho: it's one of my "sucker dishes," like pulled pork or anything with pistachios where, if it's on the menu, I'll order it. I'd never made gazpacho myself, so I thought I would give it a try. After a precursory search of Epicurious (which I like even better now that it has an iPhone app) and perusing some very scary comments about every single recipe sucking, I settled on Chunky Gazpacho from Bon Appetit, April 1993. People seemed to hate it the least and it didn't have MAYO in it, like other recipes I've seen. So here's what you need:

1/2 small onion, sliced (I used red because it's a little spicier, I think)
2 large garlic cloves
3 TB olive oil
1/4 c. red wine vinegar
2 pounds tomatoes
1 large cucumber, peeled, seeded and diced
1 green bell pepper, diced (I used yellow because I'm not huge on green peppers)
1/3 cup fresh cilantro
2 TB tomato paste
Tabasco sauce
Tomato Juice (optional...I didn't option)

And here's what you do:

Puree first four ingredients in the food processor, which makes a really nice color:



Ok then there's this weird step where you take 1/2 cup of the chopped tomatoes, cukes and pepper and stick them in a bowl. This is so you can serve it all pretty with a pile of this stuff on top...honestly...I did it, but it's sort of a waste of time unless you're serving this at a dinner. Despite that, I do want to take a moment to say that seeding cucumbers by slicing them in half and then scooping the seeds out with a spoon is totally the way to go. Once you do that you can chop them however you like, especially if they're just going in the food processor.



Ok once everyone's in there, blend until chunky puree forms. Season to taste with hot pepper sauce, salt and pepper. Transfer to a large bowl and cover soup (if you did the chopping thing reserve those separately for aforementioned presentational brownie points). Chill at least 1 hour or up to 6 hours.



So, here's the thing. When I was little, there was this fruit stand a mile from my house that sold the best salsa fresca ever. It was all tomatoes and garlic and spice, and it was just perfect. I miss it very much. This gazpacho kind of reminded me of eating a less awesome version of that salsa fresca...only a whole bowl of it...which is not really the point of gazpacho. I don't think thinning it with tomato juice would have helped, either. I have to say that, while I'm not sure what the key difference between salsa fresca and gazpacho is, whatever it is, this gazpacho did not have it. All I can say is, please, god, don't let that difference be mayo.

Grrrraaiiinnnssss (get it? Brains? Like a Zombie? ok fine)

Lately, I've been trying to learn about some of the funky grains you can find in the organic (marketing speak for "heath-conscious yuppie") isle at the supermarket. It all started with a Farro salad I found buried in cooking magazine, then I moved onto a recipe with a bulgur salad that was an instant hit (with me anyway.) The recipe, Bulgar Salad with Grilled Chicken and Parsley Pesto, is here, and if you grill the chicken inside, it's a great way to test your smoke detectors. Kate and I also made the Bulgur Salad portion again and added roasted zucchini, broccoli, and maybe asparagus to it; it made a pretty satisfying pre-vacation, clean out the fridge, meal.

Last night, I moved onto Barley, via Didi Emmons fabulous cookbook, Entertaining for a Veggie Planet. My mom bought me this book way back when I was a vegetarian, but, even though I've been omnivorous for a while now, I still pull this off the shelf more than any other book when I need something healthy and easy. So here, without further delay is:

Barley Salad with Dill and Lemon (plus asparagus and tofu)

Seriously, can you get any hippy-dippy than that? P.S. Yes, it's vegan.

1 2/3 cups dried pearl barley (available at the Garden for you Greenpointers)
1 bunch scallions, white and green parts, chopped
1 large Granny Smith, Fugi or Gala Apple (I used Gala, and the red is nice)
1 cup chopped fresh dill
1/2 cup raisins or currants
1 tsp. ground coriander
1/4 cup lemon juice plus 1 tsp. grated lemon rind (remember to get the rind before you juice it...I always forget)
3 TBs extra-virgin olive oil
kosher salt and black pepper to taste
1/2 bunch skinny asparagus, chopped into 1 inch pieces
1/2 block extra-firm tofu

1. In a medium saucepan, combine the barley and 6 cups water. Bring to a boil. Reduce the heat to a simmer, cover, and cook until tender, 35 to 40 minutes. My package of barley said to cook for an hour, but the 40 recommended here was fine--with the barley still having some texture to it. I think after an hour you'd have porridge. Drain and rinse the barley under tepid water. Drain well; the barley should still be warm.

2. In a large bowl, combine the scallions, apple, dill, currants or raisins, coriander, lemon juice and rind, and olive oil.


Those things minus the dill (Kate the Sous Chef was still chopping it)

Add the warm barley and mix well. Let stand for 20 minutes to give the barley a chance to absorb the seasonings.

This is the basic recipe, but I decided to add in another veggie and some protein. First I squished the weird tofu water out of the tofu, using paper towels. Then I chopped it into bite-sized pieces. Even though I was a veggie for 12 years, this was only my second time cooking tofu. The first time I couldn't get the nice brown crust on the tofu, but with more oil and patience I did it this time. So: Add enough olive oil to coat to a non-non stick pan (with a metal bottom). As you'll see, I don't actually have one of those (half-birthday present? anyone?), so you can use a non-stick pan, if it's all you have. Drop the tofu in, giving each piece enough room to breathe/brown and then wait. Don't touch it! Just let it brown up for a few minutes (this is where I went wrong the first time). Once you have one side of the soy-cubes browned, flip them over and throw in the asparagus. Throw in some salt and pepper.



Sautee the asparagus and tofu until the asparagus is bright green, but still a little firm. Then toss these buggers into the barley salad and stir everything together, adjusting the seasoning with salt, pepper and maybe a little more lemon juice if you have it. This can either be served at room temperature, or cold from the fridge.


Barley Salad with dill and lemon, plus asparagus and tofu

Sober Restaurant Review: Anella

Anella is a new restaurant that opened up in the old "Queen's Hideaway" space on Franklin ave. in Greenpoint. I was anxious to try it since they advertised that they were committed to seasonal cooking and would be trying to grow most of their produce in the backyard (currently made of concrete). Now I'm a sucker for "seasonal" cooking, and I know it's really trendy right now, but I was on this bandwagon in 2004, people, so I have some cred, OK?

Anyway, FREEWilliamsburg has already reviewed this place, and I agree with their assessment. Overall, it's going to be a good neighborhood spot, but they need to work out a few kinks.

Unlike whoever went for FREEWilliamsburg my friends and I were not treated to an amuse-bouche. However, you could chalk that up to the possibility that the server/owner knew who they were. Also, be forewarned that Anella does not have their liquor license yet, and, because of a recent crack down on places like La Superior and Motorino, new restaurants in North Brooklyn are no longer allowing BYOB while they wait for their liquor license. Le Sigh. My friends and I drank a lot of water at this dinner.

We started with the Terrine of the Day, a pork terrine with one of my favorite things ever (I'm just like Oprah!), pistachios. This was really great--except for the pieces of plastic wrap we found along the sides. Whoops. We just took them off and set them aside. No need to scream bloody murder. It's not a snake head. This stuff was producing such praise from the two of us that ordered it that even our minorly-sketched-out-by-terrine friend decided to have a taste, or four.



Pork Terrine with delicious fruit jam.

For our mains we all ordered fish. Pan-seared wild salmon with roasted pepper relish, oven roasted halibut with salsa verde, and I ordered the monkfish osso bucco in white wine, tomato and preserved lemon and thyme sauce. I guess they couldn't get the monkfish or something, so instead they asked if I would take scallops in the same sauce.



This picture of my scallops is kind of crappy. Kate has promised to be my photographer from now on.

The salmon was tasty..though I'm not so sure about the "pan seared" part...it looked a little baked to me. The halibut was good as well, though we remember the salsa as "kind of meh," (i.e. a little too mild on the very mild halibut) but I really think I scored with the scallops. They were cooked just perfectly: crispy outside, just barely cooked center. The tomato sauce was just a hint spicy and I did get a taste of thyme at one point. I'm not sure about the "preserved lemon and thyme" description, since I didn't really taste anything more than a really good tomato sauce with some thyme and possibly lemon in it, but whatever. I also am unsure what it means that this was osso bucco--something the waiter claimed still applied to the scallop dish--I mean, osso bucco is usually veal in a tomato sauce with bone marrow...so maybe there was some veal marrow in the sauce? I don't really think scallops have marrow...or marrow that would be usable, anyway. I could be totally ignorant though, so let me know if you have any ideas.

Now, here's my real beef. The entrees were, technically, pretty reasonably priced, all at around $15 (so actually quite cheap). They are served ala carte, so you need to order a side to go with them ($5). Ok, so we're at $20. That's fine. Here's the thing. There are two ways to do ala carte. Either the sides are family sized and served in a separate dish (which is usually the case at restaurants with a similar price point to Anella) OR really fancy restaurants will do ala carte the way it's done at Anella, where your side comes right on your plate and everyone needs to order one or two to complete the meal. If this is what Anella is going for, fine, then they should charge $40 for entrees, dress up their waiters, and essentially cue the diner in that it is that kind of place. As is, the prospective clientele might be off-put enough by the need to order sides at all (not that the $20 total is any more expensive than anywhere else), and is certainly not expecting to have them be so puny when they do order them. (And also, not especially good). My advice to Anella would be for them to ditch the ala carte, decide for us what side we get, and crank up the prices to reflect this.

In terms of service, it was a little awkward having the back waiter refill our waters every four seconds, but I think this will even out once they have a liquor license. Also, they kept bringing the dishes out one by one, for which the owner (?) apologized. I think it was just a matter of the kitchen learning timing. Our waiter was really friendly, and seemed to have a good grasp on the menu, especially for the second day.

I'll end by saying something nice: the desserts at Anella were AMAZING, especially the cheesecake. It was so soft and light, and the crust was just heavenly. We ordered all three that were available, Cheesecake, Panna Cotta, and a thick fudgy chocolate...something...and wow. Really, really good.

Chocolate Chip Cookies that Don't Suck

I've been taking on some cooking demons recently: for example, cooking an entire chicken. Next on the list was something I have tried at many times, and failed at many times: Chocolate Chip Cookies. I know, I know-- "They're the easiest!" "WTF!" "What is wrong with you!" Well, fine. But I have fucked them up every time. I feel like cookies have a pretty small window when you should take them out, and maybe I never got the hang of that, but, in addition to burned bottomed cookies, I've also had batches that just ectoplasmed all over the cookie sheet--retaining no shape whatsoever and being, ultimately, inedible--or not easily edible without a fork. To get to the point, I was consoled recently by a piece in Cook's Illustrated wherein someone on their staff laments the difficulty of making truly good chocolate cookies. I am not alone in my failure and frustration! Well, naturally, I decided to give the ensuing recipe a shot, and here it is:

Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookies
Cook's Illustrated May & June 2009 (adapted with some minor commentary by me)

1 3/4 c. unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. baking soda
14 TB (1 3/4 sticks) unsalted butter
1/2 c. granulated sugar
3/4 c. packed dark brown sugar
1 tsp. salt
2 tsp. vanilla extract
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
1 1/4 c. semisweet chocolate chips (I used the recommended Ghirardelli semisweet)
3/4 c. chopped pecans or walnuts, toasted (optional, thank god.)

1. Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 375 degrees. (I never do this right away because I feel like it wastes gas, and also I am slow at getting everything together. Do this whenever you feel like you're about 10 minutes away from baking and you should be fine). Line 2 large baking sheets with parchment paper. I recently discovered the joys of parchment paper. JOYS.
Whisk flour and baking soda together in medium bowl; set aside.

2. Heat 10 TB of butter in a 10 inch skillet over medium high heat until melted, about 2 minutes. Don't use a non-stick or otherwise darkly bottomed pan for this...it will be harder to tell when the butter is browned and things will get burney very quickly.


Butter in the pan (not really a ten-inch skillet, I know)



Continue cooking, swirling pan CONSTANTLY[,] until butter is dark golden brown and has a nutty aroma, 1 to 3 minutes. Remove skillet from heat and, using heatproof spatula transfer browned butter to large heatproof bowl. (Ok your spatula would have to be pretty bad to melt on contact with browned butter...)



Here's my browned butter. It should probably be a shade or two darker, but I was getting dizzy staring into the swirls of butter.

Stir remaining 4 tablespoons butter into hot butter until completely melted.

3. Add both sugars, salt, and vanilla to bowl with butter and whisk until fully incorporated. Add egg and yolk and whisk until mixture is smooth with no sugar lumps remaining, about 30 seconds (cue Black Eyed Peas song to be stuck in your head for days, sorry). Let mixture stand three minutes, then whisk for 30 seconds. Repeat process of resting and whisking two more times until mixture is thick, smooth and shiny. Ok I know this part sounds obnoxious, but they explained with Science in the magazine how it makes the cookies chewier or something. Just do it.


See? Look how shiny!

Using rubber spatula, or the remnants of the one you melted into the butter because you bought it from a street cart and it was made out of hemp, or wooden spoon if your spatula totally disintegrated, stir in the flour mixture from way back at the start of this thing until just combined, about 1 minute. Stir in chocolate chips and nuts (if using...bleh), giving dough a final stir to ensure no sneaky flour pockets remain.

4. Divide dough into 16 portions, each about 3 tablespoons (or use #24 cookie scoop...whatever that is, I just used a smallish ice cream scoop.) Arrange 2 inches apart on prepared baking sheets, 8 dough balls per sheet.



5. Bake cookies 1 tray at a time until [they] are golden brown, still puffy, and edges have begun to set but centers are still soft, 10 to 14 minutes (I think I ended up at 11 minutes per...but it depends on your oven, etc.), rotating baking sheet halfway through baking. Transfer baking sheet to wire rack; cool cookies completely before eating all of them before anyone else can.


My first foray into food porn.

These are pretty darn good, I have to say. Just the right ratio of chewy to crispy and browning the butter added a nice depth to the flavor. This is going to be my go-to chocolate chip cookie recipe from now on.

A Chicken

I was riding in the elevator at work the other day when I was suddenly seized with embarrassment: "I have never roasted a chicken!" Now maybe this is just indicative of my strange combination of uncontrollable and random guilt and my desire for culinary excellence, but no matter. I quickly sent off an email to friends offering the usual exchange of free food for copious amounts of wine and headed off to Bed, Bath and Beyond for supplies. (Anecdote: A friend of mine claims that the aforementioned chain never took off in his native England because a Bed-Bath is something you give to the elderly and infirm--and no one wants to imagine what the "Beyond" might mean in that scenario).

Anyway, I bought a meat thermometer and a baster (both of which I think I had owned previously but were tragically lost during my move...or they belonged to my old roommates...who knows) and a GIANT roasting pan. After lugging the roasting pan (measuring almost the entire length of my leg, and therefore difficult to carry)home I realized it was definitely for a turkey, and that my poor little chicken would be really awkward in it. So I just shoved it back in the box and returned it to the store later on.

Not really finding a suitably basic recipe for roast chicken in any of the usual suspects of magazines and cookbooks, I decided on a recipe that was recently on Amateur Gourmet . I haven't been able to steal the perfectly "seasoned" cast-iron skillet from my parents yet, so I just instead of using one, I just used a glass casserole dish. Otherwise, out of utter lack of confidence with the task at hand, I just stayed pretty close to the recipe.

Et viola!



I stuck some chopped celery, carrots and onions underneath the little guy just to keep him (or her, I guess, I didn't check) from getting too saturated with fat and also basted s/him occasionally. Seriously, this was super easy, and after the suggested 30 minutes the chicken was really at the perfect temp. I couldn't believe it! It also seemed to have cooked pretty evenly from thighs to breasts...something I was nervous about after reading some fear-mongering articles in Cook's Illustrated about unevenly cooked roast chickens.

Anyway, the last hurdle was carving, which also turned out to be completely fine. There's some sort of weird joint in the chicken's...pelvic socket I guess?...where if you hit it just right you can easily separate the thighs from the body, and from there it's smooth sailing as long as your knife is sharp enough.

To complete the meal a friend of mine whipped up some delicious biscuits, and I also sauteed some chard (stems and leaves people!) and made a risotto for my veggie friend who graciously endured the dead bird and also mixed up a pitcher of Tom Collins. Here are the biscuits:



Anyway, I forgot to take pictures while I was cooking...but I'm going to try and be better about that and also use my real camera for optimum quality.

To conclude, roasting a chicken is dead easy, and I completely recommend trying it to everyone...unless you're an utter moron like this guy who somehow blamed the failure of his oven to work properly on poor Amateur Gourmet guy's recipe.

Restaurant Review: Brookvin

OK, I wrote this for another site, but they never ended up posting it and then I moved out of that neighborhood anyway. Whatevs.
Brookvin: A Drunken Review

I finally had a chance to stop by new South Slope hot spot Brookvin this weekend. It only took me so long because I live in North Slope and am lazy, not because I’ve been busy with anything else except Netflix. So anyway, Saturday night I corralled some friends and took the bus (the bus!) over to seventh and twelfth. One friend had already arrived and had put our name on the list for what was supposed to be a 20 minute wait. We settled in and bought a bottle of wine (Syrah, if you must know) at the bar for the five of us and began to wait for one of the three larger tables to free up.

After about thirty minutes, we had finished off the bottle, my one friend had apparently scolded the hostess (unnecessarily, in my eyes—it’s difficult for a hostess to gauge how long people will linger over cheese plates!), and we moved down to the other end of the bar to wait some more and avoid the hostess. At this point we dove into the cocktail menu, assisted by our lovely bartender, who I think was either part owner or at least largely responsible for the drink menu. He was extremely helpful and poured us a generous taste of their house-infused bacon bourbon. Now, bacon and bourbon are two of my favorite things, so, naturally, I was excited about what was in that glass, and it certainly did not disappoint. Some maple syrup added to the infusion (which, I was informed, is actually just bacon fat and not any of the meat itself) nicely balances the saltiness of the bacon (fat) and the fiery quality of the bourbon. The whiskey sours were quite popular with the friends, as was the cucumber martini (vodka, muddled cucumber). I was steered away from the raspberry? Lemonade, as it is apparently quite sweet (but maybe you’re into that).

After eagerly downing our delicious whiskey sours, etc., things got a little fuzzy. We were seated at a comfy booth next to the bar (at least 40 minutes after we had arrived) and were attended to by a really great, enthusiastic server (not creepily enthused though—she just wasn’t too cool to remember our order unlike a certain growing class of servers who wear their sunglasses at night—I think you know who I mean). Anyway, she was great, we ordered all three cheese plates—a goat, a sheep, and a cow—all came with accompaniments of some sort of jam-like substance and a good amount of crusty (sometimes a little too crusty/toasted) bread. I was really into the rose petal(?) jam that came with the sheep’s(?) milk cheese—it was sweet and gooey but not cloying at all, and didn’t overpower the cheese.

We also ordered a plate of proscuitto and two tartines—onion jam, tallegio and radicchio (which was good the first round, but the radicchio took over a little too much on the second round, making it bitter) and house-cured bacon with something else gooey and nice.



I think there was another round of whiskey sours at some point—maybe a red wine? Dessert, my friends, is really blurry:

me: do you remember what that dessert was at brookvin?

either one?

Friend: oooh

we had the caremelized apple bread pudding

with salted caramel sauce

and then, um... malted something?

i don't know, i was pretty drunk

me: was the apple bread pudding the thing that was really good?

or was that a chocolate malted something pudding?

Friend: BOTH

it was a custard thing with... chocolate stuff on top

cocoa powder?

i have no idea

we were all dying over the custard, but i personally was really into the apple thing because it was lighter

So….yeah….desserts were great. Order both of them; let me know what they are. Here’s a blurry phone picture of what the chocolate malted something pudding looked like before I devoured it:



I really enjoyed my dinner/small plates/whatever and will certainly go back. I’d like to explore the wine list a little more—it looked like there were some great selections by both the glass, bottle and even half bottle (who needs that?), with helpful descriptions—always a plus. I kind of hope they start offering some options beyond the small plates. There is obviously someone with an interesting palate behind the line, and I’d love to see what else they can do! Brookvin is, however, probably not the best place to go in a group of five on a Saturday—there are only a few tables big enough to accommodate you, the place is pretty busy, and you’ll probably be wasted by the time they seat you.