Washington Heights Salad

INGREDIENTS (serves two):

a hearty selection of fresh garden greens; we used baby lettuce, wild arugula, and curly escarole
a handful of yellow wax beans, blanched 2 minutes and then plunged into an ice bath
edible flowers of your choosing; we used arugula flowers and borage
sliced segments from one grapefruit
1/2 a small red onion, sliced very thin
1 large scallion, white and green minced
1 cup of canned black beans
1 cup grated Columbian-style queso fresca
the hank end of a baguette, diced, seasoned and fried into croutons in olive oil

a splash of olive oil
a dollop of mayonnaise
a few liberal shakes of garlic powder
a squirt of Dijon mustard
several dashes of chipotle Tabasco
a glug of apple cider vinegar
a squeeze of honey or agave
plenty of salt and cracked pepper

beer of choice

1)  Whisk the dressing ingredients together.
2)  Toss with the salad ingredients.
3)  Open a beer.  Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

It seemed cruel to mention this tasty beverage since you can only get it on draft in the local NYC area, but since we managed to lay our greedy little hands on it, we wanted to shout out to Brooklyn Brewery's Gold Standard Export Kellerbier.  Our pal Kirk Struble of Amsterdam Ale House and Fourth Avenue Pub fame was slinging it on the Upper West Side yesterday, and it's always worth scoping out Mr. Oliver's Brewmaster's Reserve series.  Kellerbiers are unfiltered but with a nicely floral hop nose, and this version is mildly bitter with 100% Bohemian barley.  If you imagine that a hefeweisen and a pilsner had a love child and then married it to a pale ale, you'd be close to imagining what this beer is about.  If you have any desire to watch Garrett Oliver geek out about beergardens and this brew, hit up this video. 

 

THE HEIGHTS:

Yes, granted Washington Heights Salad is a vaguely ridiculous name, but you can't eat any more locally than what you grow yourself, and I'm proud to say that 100% of the ingredients came from either our garden plot or the C-Town around the corner. That is staggering.  When Gabe and I first moved up here, we learned the hard way about the ghettoization of grocery stores in poorer neighborhoods.  We love living in upper Manhattan, but time was that our C-Town was good for:

--yucca root

--roots like yucca that are more difficult to identify

--taro root

--roots of many types

--bananas

--plantains

--really egregiously terrible meat and fish

--cheap beer

These days, you can get AMAZING (for us) things at our remodeled C-Town, including:

--actual fresh basil

--cheese other than queso fresca, and about 10 national varieties of the latter

--actual organic products of the canned variety

--free range eggs

--leeks (this blew my mind)

--bok choy (see above parenthetical statements)

--snow peas (mind: BLOWN)

--lettuce other than the always delightful iceberg variety

And also:

--really egregiously terrible meat and fish

--expensive beer

--a shit-ton of Fanta (pictured)

So, granted, there was a trade-off, but if I want tofu (and who doesn't occasionally?) I don't have to leave the neighborhood for it.  It's terribly difficult for communities to eat healthy when healthy products simply aren't for sale in the local grocery, and that can lead to all sorts of woes including childhood obesity and diabetes.  It's generally ethnic neighborhoods that suffer this problem, and despite the fact that you can get 15 limes for a dollar during the summertime around here, the shopping for comestibles still presents challenges.  But it's getting better all the time.

Things you still cannot get at my C-Town:

--a baguette
--organic meat, poultry, or fish
--meat, poultry or fish that looks appetizing
--meat, poultry or fish that I'd touch with a ten-foot pole
--meat, poultry or fish that I'd serve to anyone other than someone I was attempting to murder

One day, my friends.  One bright, far-off day.

NY Times Tuna Ceviche with Yellow Wax Beans

INGREDIENTS:

for the ceviche (serves four, altered very slightly from here)

1 pound very fresh raw albacore or yellowfin, cut in 1/2 inch dice
1 shallot or small red onion, minced
1 garlic clove, minced or pressed
1 to 2 serrano or jalapeño chiles, spicy as you like it, seeded and minced
1 tbsp. capers, rinsed, drained, and minced
1 ripe medium avocado, cut in small dice
1 small ripe mango, cut in small dice
salt and fresh pepper to taste
1/3 cup fresh lime juice
1/2 extra virgin olive oil
1/2 cup chopped cilantro or to taste
blue corn chips, to serve

1) Prepare the tuna and put it back in the fridge.
2) In a medium bowl, combine the onion, garlic, chile, capers, avocado, mango, salt, pepper and 2 tablespoons of the lime juice. Toss together gently. Add the tuna to the bowl.
3) Stir together the remaining lime juice and the olive oil. Pour over the tuna, and toss the mixture together. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
4) Cover and refrigerate for 15 minutes, stirring gently from time to time.
5) Just before serving, add the cilantro and toss together. Taste and adjust seasonings.
6) Serve with blue corn chips, because they're crunchy and delicious.

for the wax beans (this recipe's mine!)

1/2 pound yellow wax beans, trimmed as you like them
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 heaping cup of chopped fresh tomatoes (I used mini Romas from my garden, but any will work)
2 tbsp leche de coco
4 scallions, minced fine, white and green parts divided
salt and fresh black pepper

1) Heat your oil in a skillet.
2) Add yellow wax beans, white parts of the scallion, tomatoes and some salt.
3) Cook over medium heat for 8-10 minutes (the beans should be crisp-tender, and the tomatoes should be forming a glaze). If your pan gets too dry, add a little white wine or chicken stock.
4) Add the leche de coco. (I have some just sitting in my freezer, and it is super useful. Importantly, we're not using coconut milk here--no, no. We're using that sugary stuff people make pina coladas out of, but this is way better.)
5) Salt and pepper to taste. All the acidity in the tomatoes should be tempered and heightened by the leche de coco, but if you want to adjust the amount of that too and make it sweeter, go right ahead.
6) Sprinkle with green parts of the scallions.
7) Eat it up. This is so simple and delicious, I can't even tell you.

for the beer

22 oz. of Pelican Brewery's India Pelican Ale

1) Open Pelican IPA. Serve with this food.

THE BEER:

We went back to the Pacific Northwest on a very rushed but awesome-packed trip and spent two nights camping near Lincoln City on the Oregon Coast. And one of the rugged, majestic, wild, magnificent natural beauties of the Oregon Coast is its frickken awesome beer.

Sometimes it's worth it in life to take a detour. Gabe and I and Cousin Brad took one to Pacific City, in the opposite direction we were meant to be driving, to drink some beer. Now, this might have been construed as rather unforgivable on our part, but we're Red Commies deep down and picked up extra to take back to the campsite with us. It's impressive how fast people are willing to forgive you when you're handing them beer.

You're going to notice the fabulous frothy head on this brew right off the bat. Sniff it. Go on, put your nose right in there. It's like putting your head in a pine tree while smoking a marijuana cigarette. Citrus hops are present, also floral hops--basically, if you can think of a hop profile, you'll find it. Malts for this one are the silent partner, a quiet backbone leaning towards caramel. Essentially, if you are like me, and you like the idea of drinking a beer that tastes like pine resin and grapefruit juice shaken and poured from a jar, then buy a 22 of this beer INSTANTLY. Pair it with a strong, aggressive seafood, like this ceviche. Then cry when you've eaten it all up.

THE BEST TGI FRIDAY'S STORY EVER TO HAPPEN IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD:

I used to work at TGI Friday's.

According to Wikipedia, "Friday's has a large menu with an emphasis on alcoholic beverages."

That's true.

Everything in Office Space is also true.

Anyway, anyone who ever worked for Friday's, and we walk among you, has a Best Friday's Story. I worked there for a long-ass time, so mine are epic. They generally involved pranks, pranks played on both people we liked and people we didn't like one bit, pranks perpetrated and conceived by myself, Gabe, and Luis Nunez, pranks which included but were not limited to:

1) Meticulously put clear plastic over the tops of martini glasses and then trim the edges with a razor so the plastic is invisible. Hang martini glass with the others. Wait.

(delight and surprise index rating: 6)

2) Tell your trainee that he needs to "empty out the old hot water" at the beverage station, and see how many pitchers he fills.

(delight and surprise index rating: 3)

3) Take a clean towel, get it damp, flour it thoroughly. Fry the towel. Make sure the towel is nicely browned. Put it on ciabatta bread with mayo and lettuce and tomato and such, and garnish with fries. Give someone you don't like a "free fried chicken sandwich." Wait.

(delight and surprise index rating: 8)

4) Tie all the beer bottles in the beer fridge together with clear fishing line. Wait.

(delight and surprise index rating: 6)

5) Take all the salad and all the shelves out of the little salad fridge. Put on a coat. Hide in the salad fridge (pick the smallest person--that happened to be me, in our case). Send your manager to make you an emergency salad. Come at him like a crazed spider monkey when he opens the door. Watch him land in the dish station.

(delight and surprise index rating: 9)

Aaaannnnnyway.

I went to meet up with my friend Melinda the other day, and by the time I got there, she had made new friends. We ended up all going for dessert. These new friends happened to be very cool restaurant people who will remain anonymous because this story is made of awesome with awesome killer fire sauce on top.

(DEAR TGI FRIDAY'S: THIS IS HEARSAY. LEGEND. DON'T SUE ME. BUT I USED TO WORK THERE AND BOY DO I EVER BELIEVE IT.)

One of the gents, long ago, worked at Friday's. He came in to work one morning at around eleven to see the head line cook--big African American gent, very reliably steady and together--throwing up violently in the corner. The general manager, far from looking pissed because the guy was hung over, looked deeply concerned and was trying to comfort him. The cook, meanwhile, was inconsolable, even after his stomach was empty of breakfast.

Here's why.

It seems that he had opened a bag of flour and a rat had stowed away there. It was probably a young and small rat, not very noticeable, and the flour bag had been packaged by machine, and when the rat got hungry, it ate some flour and then took a nap. Problem solved. In any case, the cook had a rat jump out at him when he tore the top open, which would have ruined anyone's morning already.

But the rat freaked out and leaped and ran across the grill.

tsssst--tsssst--tsssst--tsssst--tsssst

The rat didn't like the grill. So the rat leaped again.

Into the fryer.

Rats, apparently, have a great deal of moisture in their bodies. So in the hot fry oil, it...'ploded, as it were. Inside-out fried crispy rat within seconds.

And a sad, sad cook for the rest of the day.

LYNDSAY: So did you guys change the fry oil?
MAN WHO WILL REMAIN ANONYMOUS: I honestly don't know.

Best. Friday's Story. EVER.

Garden Herb and Tomato Israeli Couscous

INGREDIENTS:

1 cup Israeli couscous
1 tsp butter
3 garlic cloves, chopped
1 tsp. turmeric
1/2 tsp. allspice
1/2 tsp. cumin
a couple dashes of red pepper flake
3-5 dried curry leaves
1 2/3 cups vegetable stock

as many garden tomatoes as you like
dash of extra virgin olive oil
dash of tarragon vinegar
1 can of pink beans or roman/kidney beans or chickpeas
1 cup minced Italian flat leaf parsley
1 sprig fresh oregano, minced
2/3 cup diced chives
salt and fresh pepper to taste

1 bottle Green Flash Hop Head Red

1) Melt the butter over medium heat until foaming subsides.
2) Add couscous with the chopped garlic and stir to toast, about three or four minutes--you want the pasta beginning to be golden and fragrant, and the garlic to be cooked. When the couscous smells nice and browned, add all the dry spices including the curry leaves. Toast these as well, 30 seconds or so.
3) Add the vegetable stock. Bring to a steady boil. Cover lid. Turn heat to low.
4) After about eight minutes, remove lid, stir, and turn off heat. Then replace lid and let it sit for another 5 minutes or so. You don't want mushy couscous, just cooked through couscous.
5) Meanwhile, chop your garden tomatoes, mince your parsley, rinse your beans, la la la. Put it all in a bowl with your fresh herbs. Sprinkle this with olive oil, tarragon vinegar, salt, and black pepper.
6) Fluff your couscous again. Stir it in the mix. Season again, to taste.
7) Open bottle of Green Flash Hop Head Red.
8) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:

I drank Green Flash Hop Head Red for my birthday. (Photo by Melinda Caric. I'm such a turd, only the couscous photo above is actually mine this time round.)

I turned 30, kids. WHEEE! More on the later, MUCH more on that in a sec here, settle yourselves. Ok, so--Green Flash Hop Head Red. I had it at 4th Avenue Pub in Brooklyn, owned by the gentleman scholar Kirk Struble, and it's some pretty divine sh**.

It's a tough business making a good red style. (Maybe that's why Green Flash claims this beer is, alternatively, an American amber/IPA hybrid. But boy, is it ever red. And this is a grand red. It's resinous, it's bright copper, it's sticky, it's red-grapefruit-tastic, it's bright, it's sweet, it's balanced, it's wonderful. You're going to get a vague note of cinnamon within the slightly burnt-sugar sweetness, and the bitterness continues all the way through to a very pleasant landing so far as mouthfeel goes. A delightful brew. And I drank it on my birthday.

THE EXCUSE:

Beer is practically a stranger to food at this point. I'm very sorry for this. It's my fault. I've been writing this new book, see. And a Sherlock Holmes comic series for Moonstone Books. So beer forgot about food and wandered off to be alone for a while, take a little "me" time. Not to mention, Gabe has been working two jobs with one day off. And the day Gabriel turns to me--with one day off per week--and says, "You know what I really feel like doing today, Lynds? Let's blog." That will be the day...nope. That day doesn't seem too close on the horizon line.

THE BIRTHDAY:

It was my thirtieth birthday the other day. We played in the city the night before, and then went up the Hudson to Blue Hill at Stone Barns, and the next day reveled at 4th Pub in Brooklyn. It was epic.

Meanwhile, I have carpal tunnel pretty bad. It's getting better with the wrist braces, but I'm writing too much for it not to flare up quite often. It's slightly embarrassing, actually. This...impediment. Also my hair turned white, and I have the gout, and lost all my teeth. I'm gonna fall out of bed and break my hip tomorrow, maybe, for variety. Nothing like nerve injuries to really ring in a new decade.

I had a great time with my friends, though. They're swell people, all of them absolutely top notch, and I had a pretty birthday dress. Pretty birthday dresses are very important to me, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. Also I was wearing my nicely-wrapped-package-necklace. Shown above. Les Klinger says it makes me look like a birthday gift. APPROPRIATE.

THE DINNER:

Blue Hill at Stone Barns is AMAZING.

We had, for my birthday, in the company of the ever-wonderful Luis and Allison:

AMUSE BOUCHE COURSES:

fried baby corn "corn dogs"
individual mini roasted tomato and goat cheese burgers
fresh garden produce on little pins dressed in a vinaigrette (tomato version pictured above, from their website, that's not mine)
fried yellow wax beans
sesame crusted squash
3 charcuterie meats with a liver mousse sandwiched in dark salted chocolate

FIRST COURSE:

bluefin crudo with caviar, green tomato, and pig's ear vinaigrette

SECOND COURSE:

18-hour charcoal barbecued heirloom onion with olive tapenade, onion creme fraiche, vegetable puree, and preserved blueberry

THIRD COURSE:

baked curried egg with fresh beans under herbed rice paper

FOURTH COURSE:

gnocchi with chicken mushrooms

BREAD:

fresh baked sourdough with three infused salts: shittake salt, tomato salt, red pepper salt

FIFTH COURSE:

pork chin, snout, jowl, and loin with avocado and heirloom grains

SIXTH COURSE:

ribeye with smoked eggplant and purslane

TWO DESSERT COURSES (NUMBERS SEVEN AND EIGHT) PLUS EXTRAS:

apricot in elderflower tapioca with yogurt sorbet
cornbread with raspberries and peaches
flax brownie with preserved fruit
wild strawberries
chocolate dusted almonds
meringue with raspberries

What a way to turn 30, kids. I am one lucky little skunk. The picture below isn't mine either, but I wanted to show you Blue Hill. It's breathtaking.

Tarragon Shrimp Snap Pea Salad

Goodbye to the Extreme Summer Series! Why? Because it's cold, dammit. Also raining. Perhaps I'll include more garden photography in future posts anyway, absent of theme. But mourn not for Extreme Summer--I shall speak of Fall Fashion Week parties instead.

INGREDIENTS:

1 large head fennel, shaved thin, fronds reserved
4 oz. slivered ricotta salata
6 oz. sugar snap peas, julienned
1 small shallot, shaved very thin
3 springs fresh tarragon, chopped
6 garlic cloves, chopped rough
12 shrimp, tails removed, seasoned with a little salt and pepper
2 tsp. olive oil
1/2 tsp red pepper flake
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1 1/2 tsp. honey or agave
1 tbsp. white wine vinegar
1 tbsp. poppy seeds
Salt and pepper to taste
-------------------------------------
Harpoon Leviathan Big Bohemian Pilsner

1) Mince your fennel fronds. Toss them with the snap peas, ricotta salata, fennel, shallot and fresh tarragon in a bowl. Set aside.
2) Whisk or shake together the mayonnaise, honey or agave, white wine vinegar, poppy seeds salt and pepper. Adjust seasoning to taste.
3) Heat the olive oil in a skillet. When oil is hot, add red pepper flake and garlic and saute until garlic is nearly golden, about 1 minute. Add shrimp and cook until tender and just pink. Set shrimp aside.
4) Scrape the oil, pepper flake and garlic from the skillet into the salad bowl with the fennel and snap peas. Add dressing to salad and toss well to coat. Adjust seasonings if necessary.
5) Arrange your shrimp over the salad.
6) Open Harpoon Leviathan Pilsner.
7) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Harpoon's Leviathan series is really growing on us. They don't make outrageously good standard bottles yet, although some are quite drinkable, but the Leviathan series is what its name implies: big. Now, a 9% alcohol pilsner is admittedly counter-intuitive, but it's also very good. The classic pilsner malts are nice and frothy, as the brewer's notes mention, and they used Czech hops for further authenticity. Apart from that, however, this is anything but an average pilsner--the hops are very aromatic with lots of grape and lemon notes from the big malt profile. Very tasty, doesn't drink like it's 9% hooch, so use with caution but by all means enjoy with shellfish! Delicious.

THE PARTY:
So NYC launched Fall Fashion Week last night, and I helped them pull the trigger. We spent a good spell of time at Versani and then wandered over to Prada to see all our other friends. Gabe bartends next door, so he's pretty much the Sam Malone of the flagship Prada, and man alive am I happy to know the fabulously artistic cats who sell luggage worth more than my car, when I had a car. (I have no car.) The employees at Versani and Prada are the nicest people, and the evening was absurdly fun all round. There might, admittedly, be better things than a night of free champagne and ace-high people-watching while wearing an ivory cloche hat, but nothing occurs to me at the moment.

Hair and make-up by me. The dress is vintage and thrift-store purchased. Cloche hat by H&M, $12.95. Boots not shown, but were a gift from Mom. Thanks, Mom! Tights from Daffy's Clothing Bargains for Millionaires. Necklace by Prada with Swarovski crystals. Necklace does not belong to me, but they let me try it on. Necklace costs approximately triple what Gabe and I spent on a month in Thailand. Necklace costs are frankly prohibitive. Necklace costs about as much as my entire beautiful catered wedding ten years back (same general figure). Necklace will never be mine. But we were good friends for a brief time. I'd like to think when this necklace finds a home, it will occasionally speak of me over appetizers when its owner is sipping oysters and French rose champagne.

I had a grand time talking to everyone on the streets about art and style. A class act purple bow tie-wearing gent and I were interviewed in front of Vera Wang's fete about the mood of the celebration, and whether we thought it elitist. Elitist? It was a block party. With free champagne. Free sushi. Free bands. And hardly any of the designers had guest lists. The ones who did have guest lists, the bloggers report, had lamer parties. So there! Viva riffraff and artists and thrift store dresses! Opening Ceremony cleared out all their display windows so the common folk could pose as mannequins. That's what I call fashion.

Salad Nicoise

EXTREME SUMMER GARDEN SERIES: MORE HERBS AND FRESH BABY LETTUCE IN ONE PLACE THAN YOU EVER THOUGHT POSSIBLE:

INGREDIENTS (serves two; this recipe is a simplified/modified version of the one found in Cooks Illustrated from July 1st, 2002):

(hint: you're going to be boiling/steaming quite a few things, so reuse your water--hard boil your eggs and then set them in an ice bath, then boil the potatoes and put them on a board to cool, then set your steamer above the same water and steam the beans)

(for the salad)
1 8-oz. tuna steak, rubbed with salt, pepper, chili powder, and ground coriander
4 large eggs, hard boiled and quartered
5 small new red potatoes, boiled
2 tbsp. dry vermouth
1 handful trimmed green beans, steamed and then rinsed in cold water
1 small head fresh garden lettuce, leaves torn into bite-size pieces and washed thoroughly
2 small vine-ripened tomatoes, sliced and sprinkled with salt and pepper
1 very small red onion, quartered and sliced paper-thin
1/4 cup nicoise olives, chopped

(for the vinaigrette)
1/4 cup lemon juice
1/3 cup fruity extra virgin olive oil
1/2 medium shallot, minced very fine
1 tbsp. minced fresh thyme leaves
1 tbsp. minced fresh basil
2 tsp. minced fresh marjoram (you can substitute 1 tsp. fresh oregano if you like)
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
1 tsp. honey or agave

(for the beer: 1 bottle Sam Adams Imperial White)

1) Heat a cast-iron or heavy-bottomed skillet with 1 tbsp. olive oil until the oil is very hot, nearly smoking. Sear the tuna for a little over one minute on each side and then remove to a board to slice.
2) When the boiled potatoes are cool enough to handle, toss with the vermouth, add salt and pepper, and set aside.
3) Whisk all the ingredients in the vinaigrette together and taste, adjusting seasoning.
4) Combine the green beans, lettuce, and red onion in a bowl and toss with 3/4 of the vinaigrette. Plate your greens.
5) Toss the potatoes with the remaining vinaigrette. Arrange the potatoes, sliced tomatoes, olives, and eggs around the edges of the salad and season the tomatoes and eggs with a little salt and pepper. Finish by placing the cooled tuna slices over the greens.
6) Open Sam Adams Imperial White.
7) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Samuel Adams--the regular version--is just really low on my personal list of beers. I think Dave Chappelle's "Samuel L. Jackson: It's My F&%$ing Beer" would probably taste better, if it existed. But we cannot overstate how successful this pairing was. Sam Imperial White is a 10.3% alcohol witbeer brewed with half wheat and half barley malts, enhanced with classic witbeer spices like coriander and orange peel, with a good dose of smooth banana sweetness on the palate. It's actually quite silky and fruity for such a high alcohol brew, which makes it deceptively drinkable, not to say dangerous. The dressing for the nicoise salad is a nice tart lemony flavor balanced by loads of herbs, and when nibbled in conjunction with the almost creamy candied orange notes of this beer, both the food and the drink taste better. Exactly what we want in a pairing. HUZZAH.

By the way, Sam Adams had been putting out more and more specialty beers in recent times, even apart from their seasonal offerings like the Cherry Wheat, for example, and if the Imperial White is any indication, they're worth a taste-gander. It would be kind of silly to call them a microbrewery--Samuel Adams is actually the largest of all American-owned beer brewers following the InBev Belgian takeover of Anheuser-Busch--but one thing Sam Adams has been doing for a long time effectively is producing drinkable high-alcohol concoctions. (Their brew Utopias was record-setting at 27% abv.)



THE GARDEN:
We're growing lettuce heads for the first time this year, and they're frigging cool. I always supposed that lettuce heads in a garden would be just like the ones that come from a store--you know, when they've grown big enough they're pulled entirely out of the ground, and then it's fare-thee-well-lettuce-plant-I-shall-dress-thee-for-thy-tomb-in-my-dark-stomach. And my garden would have a sad hole in it. I thought this because I'm an American and we don't grow our own food in these parts. Food comes from a box, if at all possible, or arrives on a plate in front of me carried by a gent in a black apron already cooked. (I love when that happens.) But you can actually pluck the biggest leaves one by one from the base of the plant and the stem will just get longer, growing and producing more greenery. Some of my lettuces are getting absurdly long, curvy stalks by now, which is not only delicious but kind of surreal and amusing to look at. My lettuces, as I milk their worth, are starting to look like Dr. Seuss plants. An unlooked-for benefit, and one I'll repeat next year.

Duck Breast with White Bean Puree, Blackberry Sauce and Endive Salad

INGREDIENTS:

(Original recipes by Gabe all, so expect plenty of dashes, splashes, and handfuls of ingredients. ;-p)

DUCK COURSE:
1 duck breast (Mine was already marinated, but I wish it wasn't. I would have dry rubbed it w/ something delicious.)
1 tbsp. minced rosemary

1/3 cup no-crust 1/4 inch bread cubes tossed in dashes of cinnamon, allspice, salt and pepper
1/2 tbsp. bacon fat or butter

1 14 oz. can of white beans, rinsed
Pinch of chili powder
Pinch of cinnamon
Pinch of allspice
1 heaping tablespoon of tahini
Several tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil
Zest of 1 Meyer lemon

1/2 pint container of blackberries (pureed and strained through fine mesh strainer)
1/2 tsp. chili powder
Dash of cumin
Juice of 1 Meyer lemon
Dash of balsamic vinegar

ENDIVE SALAD:
2 Belgian endives
1 small shallot
Handful of arugula
1 Bosc pear
1/4 c. pine nuts, toasted

Juice of 1 Meyer lemon
A splash or two of balsamic vinegar
A drizzle of agave or honey
A tablespoon or 2 of extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper


1) Toast pine nuts until golden in a dry pan. Set aside for salad.
2) Toss the bread cubes w/ spices and place in a skillet on med. with butter or bacon fat (if you're the type of person to have bacon fat laying around) and brown, tossing occasionally. Reserve for duck.
3) Thinly slice endive and shallot and combine w/ arugula. Mix together the ingredients for the dressing. Reserve both separately until right before serving.
4) Cut and core pears. Slice into wedges, then place in pan with a bit of butter or oil and cook for 5 minutes on med-high heat until they start to turn golden. Right before you remove them from the pan, pour in a tablespoon or two of balsamic. It will absorb into, and add color to, the pears. Set the pears aside on the plates to be topped w/ dressed greens right before serving.
5) Pulse the blackberries in a food processor until smooth, press through a fine mesh strainer and mix juice w/ remaining ingredients. Reserve to drizzle on the duck plate.
6) Put rinsed beans, spices, and tahini in food processor, and start blending. Slowly drizzle in oil until completely combined and smooth, scraping down side if necessary.
7) Put the beans and lemon zest in a small pot, but wait to heat until the duck is resting after it has been cooked.
8) Place duck breast skin side down in pan on med-high heat. cook 10 minutes. Flip and cook on the opposite side about 8 minutes or until a thermometer reads 135-140. Tent w/ foil and set aside to rest about 5 or 10 minutes.
9) Heat beans. Toss salad w/ dressing and plate everything. Slice duck across the grain, place atop the beans, and sprinkle with minced rosemary.
10) Open the bottle (or 8) of Jolly Pumpkin/Nogne-O/Stone Special Holiday Ale.
11) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Dear God, this was a good pairing. This holiday collaboration is brewed with a 25% rye malt, white sage, juniper, and chestnuts, with very well-balanced pie spices and piney hop tones, so it went fabulously with the duck and rosemary white bean puree. A pairing worth remembering, and also a fine addition to our holiday beer lineup--not over-spiced, very balanced and full, bitter and sweet without ever getting syrupy, and as one blogger on beeradvocate.com put it, "packs enough of a punch to make some serious sea donkeys look like catches." Well, God bless us, and especially--at this festive and welcoming season of the year--the sea donkeys. God bless us, every one.

Sesame Chicken Salad with Napa Cabbage

INGREDIENTS:

1 small head of Napa cabbage, sliced thin
3 spring onions, white and green parts, sliced thin
1 large chicken breast, cubed
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 1-inch piece of fresh ginger, minced
1 tbsp. sherry
1 package of Top Ramen (chicken flavor)
1 tbsp. tahini
1 tbsp. sesame oil
2 tbsp. soy sauce
1 tbsp. rice vinegar
1 tsp. brown sugar
Black pepper to taste
--------------------------
Rogue Double Dead Guy

1) Toast the Ramen noodles, crumbled into small pieces, until golden brown and combine with the cabbage and spring onions in a large salad bowl.
2) Heat the olive oil in the same skillet and add minced ginger and chicken. Saute until browned and chicken is tender and cooked through. While skillet is still very hot, add the sherry to the pan to scrape up any browned bits and ginger remaining. Reserve this liquid in a small bowl.
3) Add to the sherry and ginger the last 6 ingredients listed, and whisk into a dressing along with the chicken seasoning from the Ramen package. Toss with the salad and serve.
4) Open Rogue Double Dead Guy.
5) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
Double Dead Guy is a "strong ale" from Rogue, and interestingly enough, despite their reputation for extreme beers, this is a pretty mellow copper ale. It has a nice, floral and honey nose with very low bitterness. It's drinkable, not memorable, and despite its marketing it's certainly not a doppelbock style. The taste is good, but it didn't stand up to the bright flavors of the salad ideally. Drink this beer with the knowledge you'll get a smooth, chill brew and not much else to say about it.


THE ELECTION:

We are so proud of our country, and so proud to be Americans. This video is footage of our neighborhood, on 160th and Amsterdam, just after the major networks announced Obama's victory. Everyone grabbed their biggest pots and loudest spoons and poured out of their apartments to dance in the streets. All the cars going past were rolling down their windows, honking and cheering, while a bunch of Dominican schoolkids raced up and down the street waving American flags. The resolution isn't so hot, but I'm in the hat and the yellow dress.

Then this morning I was flipping through a slideshow on Huffington Post about reactions to the election and I found this picture. It's a shot of the Obama campaign site on 52nd and Spruce in West Philadelphia, where I canvassed all day last Saturday. I tell you something--when you knock on somebody's door in an all-black suburb, and the next house down is abandoned because sometime in the last week it was strafed in a drive-by, and they're giddy at the prospect of voting--that's powerful. Yes, we can, people. Yes, we did.

Sweet Potato and Quinoa Salad

This beautiful (if I do say so myself--don't you just want to put your face in it?) salad was inspired by a similarly simple recipe in Donna Hay's gorgeous Off the Shelf: Cooking from the Pantry. We changed several elements, but a shout out to Donna in any event; her food is visually striking, healthy, and simple. Woot woot!

INGREDIENTS:
1 cup quinoa
1 1/2 cups vegetable stock
2 sweet potatoes, peeled and cubed
1/2 pound green beans, trimmed and chopped
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp. Thai roasted chili paste OR harissa OR Italian red pepper tapenade
1/2 cup chopped fresh mint
1/4 cup lemon juice
1 tbsp. honey
Salt and fresh black pepper
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Avery Brewing Company's Ale to the Chief American Pale Ale

1) Pre-heat oven to 375 degrees and line a baking sheet with foil.
2) Toss cubed sweet potato in the regular olive oil, seasoning if desired. Roast the potato on the baking sheet in the oven, uncovered, for 30-45 minutes depending on how large your cubes are. Remove from oven when cooked through and well browned, and set aside in a large bowl.
3) Place quinoa in a mesh sieve and rinse thoroughly--there is a substance called saponin that coats the outside, and can taste bitter if not rinsed off.
4) Combine quinoa and vegetable stock in a pot and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat to low, and simmer 20 minutes until water is absorbed.
5) While quinoa is cooking, blanch green beans in boiling salted water until tender and bright green. Rinse with cold water and set aside with sweet potatoes.
6) Combine the last five ingredients, along with salt and pepper to taste, in a small mixing bowl or dressing shaker.
7) Fluff the quinoa and add it to the vegetables. Toss with the dressing.
8) Open Ale to the Chief.
9) Enjoy together.

THE BEER:
This beer is gorgeous. It's a lovely pumpkin orange color when poured, with resiny hops balanced by caramel-cereal malts. They brewed it as a special tribute to the lucky man who replaces Still-President Bush in November, and what a fine gesture it is! The floral sweetness rocks with the slightly spicy dressing of the salad, and the pine-bitter finish does well by the honey-tossed quinoa. Ale to the Chief indeed, and may he sip this fine vintage for solace while sitting in the Oval Office pondering how to get us out of this small fiscal snafu.

THE NOBLE QUEST IN YOUR PANTRY:
Donna Hay's books inspire great one-dish meals that can come together using practically anything in your refridgerator and shelves. Of course, I AM assuming that your refridgerator contains more than ketchup, Pabst, and month-old celery, but really, this recipe would work just as well with a can of chickpeas instead of sweet potatoes, rice instead of quinoa, and chives for mint. Go to town. Actually, no--don't go to town. That's the point: stay at home. You've ingredients enough.

THE AGONIZING ANTICIPATION:
Can we just vote tomorrow and know which guy Ale to the Chief is hailing? Would it be ok to corrall all the "Undecideds" at this point and build a nice compound for them where they can wander around trying to decide whether or not to take a shower, or whether they prefer to wear socks on their hands or their feet, or whether they should keep breathing? Vote for whomever you want. Seriously. But can we just get it over with now? Listen: you have two options. There's an old white conservative and a young black liberal. There you go. As Dave Sedaris put it, being undecided right now is like having this conversation on an airplane:

FLIGHT ATTENDANT: Hi. Would you like the chicken, or the pile of excrement with shards of glass in it?
UNDECIDED MAN: Hmm. Well, how is the chicken cooked?

Seriously, what are these people waiting for? Do they want McCain to come over to their house with Joe the Plumber and clear their clogged toilet? Do they want Obama to bring Bill Ayers to their backyard and punch him in the face? Are they waiting for either candidate to come back triumphant from an epic quest to find George Bush's Magic Wand? Do they know the Magic Wand doesn't exist???

My head hurts.

The Midnight Salad

INGREDIENTS:

1 large vine-ripe yellow tomato
6 fresh basil leaves
1 tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
1 tbsp. aged balsamic vinegar
cracked sea salt and pepper
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22 oz. He'brew Jewbelation Eleven

1) Cut tomato into bite size pieces.
2) Chiffonade the basil.
3) Drizzle olive oil and Balsamic vinegar.
4) Add sea salt and cracked black pepper to taste.
5) Open He'brew Jewbelation Eleven.
6) Enjoy together.

THE BEER: First of all, it's from He'brew, which is made in Saratoga Springs, NY and is the ale/other category of the Shmaltz Brewing Company, whose lager beers fall under the Coney Island label. It's dark, velvet chocolate with a good dose of coffee, brown sugar, vaguely smoky, not too strong on the tobacco end, with hints of fruit (primarily prune) and just a tiny trace of tar. Very meaty, strong beer, which Gabe matched with an acidic, vinegar-lightened dish. Why? It tastes delicious. The darkness of the beer was offset by the strong light tones of the salad.

THE ADVENTURE: It can be a dicey proposition, one fraught with self-recrimination and heartache, to pick a tomato when There Be Bandits About. After all, they know you want the ripe tomato. The thieves long for the same heightened flavor. They will wait until the last moment possible, just before you pick it, and abscond with your tomato. They will not look back. Except to check for other near-ripe tomatoes. Oh, sure, you could pick an unripe tomato. You could also buy hydroponically-genetically-fundamentally-spiritually altered tomatoes from the great tomato beds of Mars, and eat them after they've gone through re-entry. But why do that? One's timing must be perfect to preempt these Lawless Community Gardeners.

THE RECIPE IS GOD-AWFUL SIMPLISTIC BUT DELICIOUS: Also, it was a literally post-midnight snack. One does what one can, after all. And the tomato was begging to be picked. If I'd been a Tomato Bandit, I'd have marked it days ago as "ripe" for the "plucking."

Our departed Belgian comrade in beer drinking (he didn't die--he has merely determined to live in Belgium) left us with some lovely Delirium Tremens glasses, from which the He'brew done got drunk from when it got drunk. Forgive us. We just watched Tropic Thunder.