Memories « Soeurved

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Faire les Courses for Robert Frank

The summer after my sophomore year of college I interned at Pace/Macgill Gallery. And when Robert Frank—one of the artists Pace/Macgill represents—returned from an extended vacation, I was dispatched to Whole Foods to restock his empty refrigerator. Here’s the grocery list I followed (the Gallery Assistant warned against improvisation). Unfortunately, Peter Macgill denied me the privilege of hand-delivering the food to Mr. Frank’s apartment. That roast chicken was the closest I came to meeting him. I hope the white meat wasn’t dry.

Add comment March 2, 2010

Turkey Redux: Part 1

February is a dreary month. The reality of winter sets in, eclipsing all remnants of holiday cheer. I begin to crave “hearty” meat ‘n carb combos like pepperoni pizza and lamb ragù. What better way to combat Seasonal Affective Disorder than to distract yourself with memories of better months? And so we bring you Thanksgiving: A Retrospective.

Every November, a week or so before the big day, pesky thoughts of moderation creep into at least one family member’s head, and we consider changing the menu (do we REALLY need 3 pies for 5 people?). But, gluttony always triumphs, and the menu survives, unscathed. Here’s the rundown.

Turkey, gravy, stuffing, cranberries, sweet potatoes, smashed potatoes, creamed onions, haricots verts, key lime pie, pecan pie, and pumpkin chiffon pie

The bird resting:

My plate, round one:

Add comment February 15, 2010

Blini

I post this picture in honor of Valentine’s Day. CAR is engaged! To celebrate, our family gathered in Boston with a bottle of champagne, a tin of caviar, and batch of homemade blini. I was in charge of the blini and selected this recipe because it doesn’t call for yeast. Highly recommended.

“Caviar and Salmon Blini Tortes,” Gourmet, February 2008

2 tablespoons buckwheat flour
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon sugar
1/8 teaspoon baking soda
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup whole milk
1 large egg, separated
1/2 stick unsalted butter, melted and cooled, divided

“Whisk together dry ingredients in a bowl. Add milk and yolk and whisk until smooth. Beat egg white with a clean whisk in another bowl until it just holds soft peaks. Fold into batter along with 2 tablespoons melted butter.

Brush a 12-inch nonstick skillet with some of remaining melted butter, then heat over medium heat until hot. Working in batches of 6 or 7, drop 1 level tablespoon batter per pancake into skillet and cook until bubbles appear on surface and undersides are golden, 45 seconds to 1 minute. Flip over and cook 1 minute more. Brush blini on both sides with some of remaining melted butter, then transfer to a plate and keep warm, covered with foil. Brush skillet with butter between batches.”

Add comment February 14, 2010

Stone Crabs

Good food often tastes like the past to me. In fact, I think taste is my most nostalgic sense, even more so than smell. I spent the first week of December in Miami. Despite two recent articles in the New York Times and T Magazine lauding Miami as a gastronomical destination, the restaurants there disappointed me. Sure, I enjoyed my “Pulled Pork Sandwich with pickled red onion, creamy cucumbers & parsley sauce” at Michael’s Genuine Food & Drink, but not enough to forgive the 40-minute wait or the Pottery Barn-esque decor. Same thing at 8oz Burger Bar. The turkey burger was flavorful, but the TV-plastered walls and black leather banquette recalled a midwestern chain restaurant (the kind I would have begged my mom to take me when I was 12). My favorite meal came from Joe’s Stone Crab—an order of 5 large (albeit pre-cracked) stone crabs with “their famous” mustard sauce. I grew up eating stone crabs from Placida Fish Market near Boca Grande, Florida; squeezing the cracker as hard as I could with both hands to get at the meat inside; extracting the black-tipped claw slowly, so it came out in one piece; and dunking the flesh in my grandmother’s famous mustard sauce. Before my visit to Joe’s, I hadn’t eaten stone crabs for at least ten years—before my grandmother sold “the Beach House” on Gasparilla Island. Sharing my order of Joe’s claws with someone who had never eaten them before, I realized that, although stone crabs are delicious, they basically taste like other crabs. Unless they are infused with nostalgia. Then they are untouchable.