Virtual Gourmet

"Afternoon Tea" by John Singer Sargent

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AN ANNOUNCEMENT ABOUT TRAVELING AND CORONA VIRUS

With countries trying to contain the spread of the COVID-19 by curbing travel into and out of them, as the publisher of Mariani’s Virtual Gourmet Newsletter I do not wish to advocate for travel anywhere that the virus is still raging. With regard to restaurants, most are closed by fiat so I am neither going to them nor writing about them for the near future. (But see New York Corner news below!) So, I will take a wait-and-see-attitude on others, I look forward to a safer, happier time in the near future when I can in good conscience begin to recommend the joy of travel everywhere in the world.

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IN THIS ISSUE
BURGER MANIA
By John Mariani

NEW YORK CORNER
LOVE AND PIZZA
By John Mariani

NOTES FROM THE WINE CELLAR
KOSHER WINES FOR ANY
TIME OF THE YEAR
By Geoff Kalish

NEW YORK RESTAURATEURS HELPING
TO KEEP EMPLOYEES AFLOAT DURING PANDEMIC
By John Mariani

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BURGER MANIA
By John Mariani

Red Dot Burger

     How did it happen that the most beloved of all American culinary icons—the hamburger—has gone from prole comfort food to nutritional bugbear to decadent trendiness? How did a dish so humble become such an object of both scorn and fashionable hyper-indulgence? And how did something that once sold for fifteen cents rise to the price range of porterhouse steak?
       Well, it’s a very American story. We love nothing better than to take something small and make it big, to transform something mundane into the sublime, and to hype the hell out of something that never needed to be hyped at all.
      The origins of the hamburger have been debated for decades, but all we really know is that the hamburger appeared in American eateries sometime in the 19th century, the first mention in print—on a menu—being 1834. By the 1890s the “hamburger” or “Hamburg steak” was well known, so those 20th century claimants from New Haven to Texas haven’t much to base their assertions on.
      By the 1920s chains like White Castle were selling millions, and by the 1950s, when McDonald’s exploded on the American scene, the burger had come to be regarded as the quintessential American food, with French fries a close second.
      No one back then, not even Popeye’s friend Wimpy, thought much about hamburgers as symbols of anything, nor did professors at Yale deconstruct the architecture of luncheonettes as they might the work of Frank Lloyd Wright. No one would have considered compiling a book about the burger, like the 321-page Encyclopedia of Junk Food and Fast Food by Andrew F. Smith with extensive entries on White Castle, White Tower, Bob’s Big Boy, the In-N-Out Burger chain and Jack in the Box. And who would ever have thought that a bestseller would be entitled Fast Food Nation, in which author Eric Schlosser excoriates the American diet with titillating questions like who knows “what really lurk between those sesame seed buns?” and insisting “Eating in the United States should no longer be a form of high-risk behavior.”? The sensationalistic cover line on the paperback was “The Dark Side of the All-American Meal.”
      Who knew? A burger was a burger, though everyone has his own favorite, and McDonald’s was a diversion that came to be regarded in foreign countries as American as bluejeans and Harleys. Schlosser’s and others’ assaults on the burger tried to make the little patty-on-a-bun into a major cause of every dietary malady known to man, and for the past decade nothing had more scorn hurled at it for contributing to our obesity and heart disease. Meanwhile, the hamburger chains kept mounting more and more food onto those buns—double and triple burgers, slathered with mayo, bacon, cheese, and God knows what else.
      And then something weird happened. The burger made a big comeback. It was like the perfect storm of opposition. Fueled by the controversial pronouncements of the late Dr. Robert C. Atkins, that eating lots and lots of protein and fat is a very reasonable way to lose weight, and buoyed by new nutritional reports that, in moderation, beef provides all sorts of good nutrients, Americans started to take another look at one of their favorite foods, and, being American, everything once simple became a big, big deal.
      Oddly enough, one of the first shots against the nutritionalists’ bow came from an haute cuisine French chef, Daniel Boulud (right). When asked back in 2000 by a news reporter his response to a French farmer’s protest against McDonald’s in France, Boulud said, “The French are just jealous they did not invent the hamburger themselves.” The next day he came up with his own—a kind of inverse tournedos Rossini—a classic ground sirloin burger with a stuffing of wine-braised short ribs, foie gras, a mirepoix of root vegetables, and preserved black truffle, all sandwiched between a toasted parmesan and poppy seed bun spread with fresh horseradish, oven roasted tomato confit, fresh tomato, red onions and frisée lettuce and served with a big bunch of crispy pommes frites.
     A year later, upon opening his casual db Bistro Moderne, he put the oddity on the menu—right at the height of the Atkins Diet craze—charging $32, as the “db Burger Royale,” with lavish shavings of fresh black truffles in black truffle season. (Until it closed this month, owing to the coronavirus, the restaurant was charging $35.) Yet since opening, about 40 percent of db Bistro Moderne’s sales have been the now famous hamburger, and Boulud has been thinking of putting up a sign that reads “Over 300,000 Served!”
         Of course, other top chefs had to follow suit, like the late, globetrotting French chef Joël Robuchon, who has opened a series of casual restaurants called L’Atelier in Paris, London, Tokyo, Las Vegas, and New York, offering a menu of delicacies like sea urchin en gelée with cauliflower cream right along with his “Le Burger,” made with beef and foie gras and lightly caramelized Bell peppers, which you eat at a counter, just as you would at White Castle or Howard Johnson’s.
         When Danny Meyer, who owns high-end restaurants like Gramercy Tavern and The Modern in New York, opened Shake Shack in the middle of Madison Square Park, its burger was declared the best in the city by New York magazine, exulting, “No Kobe. No foie gras. No knife and fork necessary—just an outdoor table, a bunch of napkins and a frozen custard alongside. Pretty much burger heaven.” (Shake Shack is now an international chain.)
           And therein lies a clue to the new fashion for a better burger. Once a certain class of Americans got over their anxieties about eating red meat, and while the average American still eats, even gorges, on chain restaurant hamburgers, people with $16 or $24 or $120 to spend on a burger want to feel good inside and out about what they’re eating. Thus, if a chef advertises that his beef is all natural, hormone-free, cuddled and kept away from mass slaughterhouses, many people swallow the message, feel less guilty about eating red meat and even bask in the retro-chic glow of eating a hamburger in a French bistro or department store café.
         These days not a week goes by without the food media hyping a new and extravagant burger, usually served up in a hip “scene” in Brooklyn or East L.A. with a line around the block and a two-hour wait . . . for a burger. Don’t get me started on the absurdity of veggie burgers!
         I’ve never been a fan of the big chains’ burgers—McDonald’s, Wendy’s, Burger King—but I love the distinctive tastes of those at In-N-Out Burger and Fatburger out of California, and Fuddrucker’s out of Texas. And I’ve never had a bad burger at an American diner. Yet I have to say that in our pursuit of the better burger we may have lost a great deal of the joy an American takes in a merely good burger, one that’s not too large or plowed under and overwhelmed by other ingredients, a burger where the meat is the message and a little Heinz’s ketchup gets on your shirt.

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NEW YORK CORNER
By John Mariani

LOVE AND PIZZA

By John Mariani

Cover Art By Galina Dargery

Since, for the time being, I am unable to write about or review New York City restaurants, I have decided instead to print a serialized version of my (yet unpublished) novel Love and Pizza, which takes place in New York and Italy and involves a young, beautiful Bronx woman named Nicola Santini from an Italian family impassioned about food. As the story goes on, Nicola, who is a student at Columbia University, struggles to maintain her roots while seeing a future that could lead her far from them—a future that involves a career and a love affair that would change her life forever. So, while New York’s restaurants remain closed, I will run a chapter of the Love and Pizza each week until the crisis is over. Afterwards I shall be offering the entire book digitally. I hope you like the idea and even more that you will love Nicola, her family and her friends. I’d love to know what you think. Contact me at loveandpizza123@gmail.com
—John Mariani

CHAPTER ONE

        “Nicola, listen. Always stir the sauce clockwise.”
        “Yes, Grandma. You always tell me that.”
        “Is very important you don’t forget. Is a holy direction.”
        Nicola Santini had indeed heard her grandmother’s mantra on sauce stirring a thousand times, but she never tired of it because she heard it whenever they were cooking together at her grandmother’s house on Cambreleng Avenue in the Italian neighborhood known as Belmont in the north Bronx.
        “You cook like this,” said her grandmother, Teresa, inserting a fork into the beef stewing in the ancient sauce pot, “you gonna see all the men line up to marry you.”
        “Do I really want that?” asked her dark-haired, brown-eyed 20-year-old granddaughter.
        “Si, you have them all at your mercy, then you pick the best one! You no gonna just marry some gavone.”
        "Then we’re on the same page, Grandma,” said Nicola, sticking a crust of bread into the sauce and eating it. “Grandma, the sauce is as good as ever.”
        Teresa looked mildly surprised, as if there could have been any other outcome, then, wiping her hands on a moppine, said, “Listen, Nicola, you the smartest girl in the family—sshh! Don’t tell your mama I say so!—but you are. I love your sisters, but they no have your mind and your bellezza. The girls, they gonna be fine, but you, you going to make us all proud. You don’t settle for nothin’ or nobody.”
    Nicola, who was called Nicky by her brothers, sisters and friends, hugged her eighty-year-old nonna and, mimicking her accent, said, "Promise! I won’t settle for nothin’ or nobody.”
        “I tell you, Nicolina, that’s why you learn to cook like this. You can't just be a smart girl. You gotta be an Italian female, and we all know how to cook,” then, tilting her head and smiling, “Some better than others.”
        Nicola smiled too, knowing that Teresa was really claiming to be the family’s, maybe even the neighborhood’s, best cook. Nicola knew the truth of her grandmother’s indirect boast, having eaten every weekend meal of her life at her mother’s or grandmother’s or at countless aunts’ houses, along with a few meals at sisters-in-law, who were always terrified when the Santinis came to dinner.
        The Santinis were not known for serving the most lavish meals—that would be Nicola’s aunt Rosa, who made up for what she lacked in culinary subtlety by turning out spreads that began with melon and prosciutto-wrapped breadsticks, slabs of fresh mozzarella, marinated eggplant, peppers and artichokes, followed by two pastas, one spaghetti, one stuffed, maybe lasagna or ravioli, then both chicken and a roast pork or veal, with potatoes or polenta, asparagus with grated cheese on top, and then cuts of cheese and fruit served in a bowl of cold water, then cannoli and some other dessert, with espresso, digestivi, and Italian cookies. People always left Rosa’s table full and happy, but often groaning.
         Teresa stayed silent at such meals because she thought it was too much food made without any finezza. Her meals were always impeccably rendered, very beautiful and balanced, and if people wanted second helpings, she’d shrug and say, “Go ahead. Stuff yourself!”
         Teresa’s meals would start with whatever vegetables she found freshest in the market, then she’d serve a pasta with just enough sauce to coat the spaghetti or rigatoni or farfalle or whatever she decided was the ideal shape for the particular sauce. She would also make her own fresh pastas, amazingly light potato gnocchi that she shaped with her fingers, applying slight indentations with the tines of a fork in order for the gnocchi to catch the sauce better.
        Next would come the main course—perhaps a beef stew, whose own sauce often served as the sauce for the pasta before it—perhaps with potatoes, and the meal would end simply with fruit and cheese. If anyone was still hungry, there was always a package of Stella d’Oro cookies in the cupboard.
        So despite the relative size of Teresa’s meals (versus her relatives’) everyone looked forward most to dinner at her house and never left less than wholly satisfied.

       Nicola was the one who always marveled at her grandmother’s finezza, the care she took with every gnocchi dumpling, as if she were handling rosary beads. Teresa had taken particular care to make sure Nicola learned to cook the right way, especially since the other two Santini granddaughters did not show much interest in the subject, shy of learning to make a basic tomato sauce. Whatever secrets there were to Teresa’s cooking, she passed them on to Nicola.
    Nicola cherished every moment with her grandmother, not only because she was a great cook but because she was different from most of the other Italians in the neighborhood. Teresa had come from Emilia-Romagna in northern Italy, which was rare among the immigranti who arrived in America in the late 19th and early 20th century, overwhelmingly from southern provinces like Campania, the Abruzzi, Calabria, Basilicata, Puglia and the island of Sicily.   In fact, of the five million southern Italians who emigrated to America between 1890 and 1910, one out of every four was a Sicilian. Northern Italians looked down upon the southerners and the southerners looked down upon the Sicilians farther south, barely acknowledging them as being Italian at all, instead referring to them as africani.
    To come from Emilia-Romagna, in Teresa’s case Bologna, was regarded as quite unusual in the Belmont section of the Bronx, which had been settled largely by Italian masons who came over to work on the elaborate stonework of the nearby Bronx Zoo and Botanical Gardens. Those who didn't know Teresa well always assumed she came from a higher station than the usual paisans and laborers who fled the South in order to have some kind of future for themselves and their children. Bologna was known as “La Grassa”—the fat one—famous for its abundance of food and its industry, though at the turn of the century few people of Bologna would ever characterize themselves as living high on the hog.
    By her own admission, Teresa had a superior attitude towards the Southerners she came over with, finding many of them coarse, speaking dialects that bore little resemblance to formal Italian. So her marriage to Federico Santini, who came from a town on the Adriatic coast in the Abruzzi—a province east of Rome that encompassed Abruzzo and Molise, more in the middle than in the south of the Italian boot—was considered something of a coup for the Santini family. The fact that Federico had worked in the millinery crafts and was not, therefore, a contadina peasant like most of his neighbors in Belmont, provided him, too, with a certain cachet, which in some quarters brought resentment and envy. There were several nasty slur words used for anyone they thought had even a whiff of being a snob—parassita, ciabbattino, and millantore.
    In the years when Nicola’s grandparents’ generation of Italians emigrated to the United States, they’d been ushered through the vast halls of Ellis Island, where they were examined for diseases, sometimes quarantined for weeks offshore, sometimes sent back to Italy. Their names were recorded—often misspelled, even changed, because the immigrants were illiterate and could not spell them out.
        Once settled in the New World the newcomers became one of two minds.
     There were those who would always regard Italy as their homeland and wished to return when they’d earned enough money. They would always lament leaving Italy, evident in all the sobbing songs like “Torna a Surriento” (Come Back to Sorrento), and of how much they so desperately missed the Old Country, despite the deprivations they had for centuries suffered there.
       The other group of immigrants came to America with an enduring antipathy for Italy, regarding their lives there as dire and hopeless, scraping by on farms they did not own, where they paid a landlord to live and work there for him. It was a country where children worked in coal mines and infant mortality was unconscionably high; a place where there was never enough to eat, where harvesters picked up the bits of grain that had fallen to the ground to use that night to make a hard, meager bread.
    Those immigrants had not the slightest desire to return to Sorrento, or anywhere else in Italy, content to make their way in their newly adopted country, where a poor family could feed and clothe their children, even send them all to school—free!—and to indulge the hope that their sons and daughters, grandsons and granddaughters, could break forever the age-old cycle of poverty and to enter into every industry and into every profession of American society. Never expecting “streets of gold,” they sought instead streets of markets and stores run by other immigrants who treated them with rispetto!
    These immigrants were the ones who let their dialects go dry and didn’t bother to teach the language to their children, except through osmosis at home. Indeed, some parents spoke in an esoteric dialect only in order to hide what they were saying from the children. They were proudly American and Italy could be damned.
    Federico Santini fell more into the first kind of immigrant, though he came to love America more than he could have imagined after arriving in 1910. Teresa Guardini Santini, who came with her parents ten years later, however, straddled both attitudes: she was extremely proud of being both Italian and American and sought to imbue her children and grandchildren with an abiding appreciation of all America had done for them. At the same time, she perpetuated a pride in all the greatness, all the beauty, all the influence that Italy had had on the world.
     She made it a point always to wear earrings and colorful dresses with flower prints, eschewing the drab black dresses most Italian women her age wore almost like a nun’s habit. She told the family that she’d already picked out the clothes and jewelry she wanted to be waked in—an orchid-colored silk dress with a green sash, with a silver cross at her neck, and on her wrist the charm bracelet she’d worn since she was a child. It was all neatly packed in a box with pink tissue paper, set on the top of the closet in her bedroom.

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NOTES FROM THE WINE CELLAR

KOSHER WINES FOR
ANY TIME OF THE YEAR
By Geoff Kalish

    In addition to the syrupy, sweet red, Concord grape-based wines sold in jug-size containers, many retail shop shelves now carry a variety of dry and semi-sweet reds and whites produced kosher-for-Passover. And while many consumers continue to use the sweet reds for the ceremonial part of the Passover seder meal, even traditionalists are switching to these lighter, more enjoyable reds and whites for the actual dinner, with bottles from Israel and California topping the list.
    What allows these lighter, less sweet wines to be consumed, even in the most orthodox of homes, is that they are produced by a “sanctioned” process that involves a number of written and unwritten regulations. For example, work performed in the process may not be conducted on the Jewish sabbath or other religious holy days, and non-kosher products may not be used in production. (This last proscription comes into play because to clear sediment from wine, some producers use animal protein, in order to clump particles in the fermented juice and let them settle to the bottom of the tank or barrel. But unless it can be certified that the animal from which the protein was derived was raised and slaughtered according to strict kosher rules, this is prohibited.)
     Also, in order for a wine to be “certified” as kosher and/or kosher-for-Passover the entire winemaking process, including viticulture, vinification and bottling, must be supervised and certified by a rabbi. Moreover, for kosher wine produced in Israel, grapes cannot be used to make wine for the first three years of growth, other products cannot be grown between the grapes, the vineyard must be left fallow every seven years, and a small part of the crop at any vineyard must be left on the vine for those who cannot afford to grow their own grapes (a situation known as “gleaning”). Also, some (especially the very orthodox) require that a wine be “meshuval” (pasteurized) so that if a non-Jew serves the wine it remains kosher. In addition, to be “kosher-for-Passover,” during the entire process the wine cannot have been in contact with grain, bread or dough, which in actuality makes most kosher wines also kosher-for-Passover, but, in addition (just to be sure), some wineries totally sterilize their wine equipment before producing “kosher-for-Passover” bottles.
    Even with all these requirements, a recent tasting of kosher and kosher-for-Passover wines held at New York’s Chelsea Piers included over 50 brands, primarily from Israel and the United States. And the following are comments on my top picks, categorized by the Passover fare they are best suited to mate. (Prices listed are the average retail cost.)
    Probably the most difficult match is wine to go with appetizers of chopped liver and gefilte fish (boiled fish dumplings), often served with nose-cleansing horseradish. Wines with a bit of sweetness and a crisp finish seem to be best, and three whites meeting the requirement are Moscatos from Bartenura and Weinstock and a Riesling from Hagafen Cellars. The 2018 Weinstock Moscato ($9) from California has a bouquet and off-dry taste of ripe peaches and apricot and a refreshing finish. The 2017 Hagafen Cellars Napa Valley White Riesling ($27) exhibits a floral bouquet and sweet, yet pleasant, taste of mango and papaya and a citrusy finish. And the bubbly 2018 Bartenura Moscato ($12) from Italy shows a bouquet and semi-sweet taste of peaches and melons with a lively acidity in its finish.
    Wines with a fruity bouquet and taste of cranberries and plums make ideal accompaniment for popular main course items like duck and lamb and chicken casseroles, like orange chicken and heady chicken Marengo made with tomato, herbs and olives. Three wines that fill the bill are: a 2016 Barkan Classic Pinot Noir ($12) from Israel, and from California a 2018 Baron Herzog Lineage Pinot Noir ($18) and a 2018 Hagafen Cellars Estate Bottled Pinot Noir ($33).
    Dry reds with flavors of black currants and herbs and a bit of tannin in their finish seem to marry well with most main courses of roasted and/or braised beef. A worthy mate of note is the 2017 Binyamina Cabernet Sauvignon ($23) from Israel’s Galilee region, which has notes of orange in addition to some tannin in its finish. Two other notable bottles that answer the call are the 2016 Barkan Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon ($15) from the Hulda area in central Israel and the 2018 Gamila Cabernet Sauvignon ($17) from Israel’s Golan Heights.
    And dry, flavorful whites—a once unheard-of category of kosher-for-Passover wines—are ideal for the likes of roasted chicken and rock Cornish game hens (popular Passover main courses). Three good choices in this category are from Tzuba and Yarden in Israel, and Baron Herzog in California. The 2016 Tzuba Chardonnay ($22), from Israel’s Judean Hills, shows flavors of apples and some pineapple and just a bit of oak in its crisp finish. The 2017 Baron Herzog Sauvignon Blanc ($12) from California has a bouquet and taste of grapefruit with some lychee in its finish, and the 2017 Yarden Gewürztraminer ($23) from Israel’s northern Golan Heights has a bouquet and taste of tropical fruit and a hint of cloves with a vibrant finish. Of importance, these three whites should be served well chilled to bring out their acidity, which enhances the flavor of these wine and food combinations.

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NEW YORK RESTAURATEURS HELPING
TO KEEP EMPLOYEES AFLOAT DURING PANDEMIC
By John Mariani

The Dutch Staff

    Allowed to stay open only if they offer take-out and/or delivery of food, New York’s restaurateurs have responded in a variety of ways, from setting up auctions to donating their salaries to employees. Many have utilized GoFundMe as a way to accrue money to help their staff get through the current coronavirus crisis, which effects 500,000 workers in New York’s 30,000 independent restaurants.
    As reported in Grubstreet.com, “The most effective, fast-moving action is a three-tiered approach: A group called the Independent Restaurant Coalition, which formed just last week, works at the federal level. The newly formed Relief Opportunities for All Restaurants (ROAR) works with Governor Cuomo’s office at the state level. And the New York City Hospitality Alliance works at the city level with Mayor Bill de Blasio’s office. Stephanie Cutter, the founding partner of Precision Strategies in Washington, D.C., started working with the IRC last week.
    Danny Meyer of USHG restaurants, which include Gramercy Tavern and the Shake Shack chain announced, "We have created a relief fund to help the employees affected by the layoffs today. To seed the effort, I’m immediately contributing my entire compensation, and our executive team is taking a meaningful pay cut. We will use these funds and other donations we collect to help those on our team that will face significant financial hardship in the weeks to come. Through March 24, 100% of the revenue generated by USHG gift cards purchased on our site will be directed toward that fund. We ask that friends of USHG restaurants join us in this effort.”   https://ecommerce.custcon.com/Selection.aspx?c=D936B6A5-6CB9-42C7-8762-9BBEECC3C29D&utm_source=footer&utm_medium=web&&utm_content=ushg

Chef/owner Daniel Humm of Eleven Madison Park, a fine dining restaurant with three Michelin stars, reports that “We have set up an auction and donation page that you can find at the link below. We have amazing experiences and items to bid on, or we appreciate a contribution of any dollar amount that you are able to make. 100% of proceeds will go directly to our world-class team here in New York City to help them through the uncertainty ahead. Our biggest shared worry is the lack of clarity as to what the future holds – will this be days or weeks or months? We just don’t know—so we’re trying to do everything we can to help our team whether this unprecedented storm.” https://www.elevenmadisonpark.com.

Andrew Carmellini, Luke Ostrom and Josh Pickard of NoHo Hospitality, whose restaurants include Locanda Verde and The Dutch, announced, “For the next week through March 25th, 100% of every NoHo Hospitality gift card you purchase will go to our NoHo Hospitality Family Fund, supporting team members affected by this crisis. Treat yourself to a future night out at any of our restaurants! Our team needs your support now, more than ever.” They also have a donation link through GoFundMe. https://www.gofundme.com/f/wpnza-noho-hospitality-family-fund

Here is a list of other New York restaurants links to their charitable efforts.

Gabriel Kreuther: https://www.gofundme.com/f/46eunw-stay-strong

Thomas Keller: https://www.thomaskeller.com/donate

Delicious Hospitality Group: https://www.gofundme.com/f/delicious-hospitality-group-family-fund

Le Bernardin: https://www.gofundme.com/f/le-bernardin-amp-aldo-sohm-wine-bar-family-fund

AvroKo Hospitality Group, which includes Ghost Donkey, Saxon & Parole, and the Poni Room, has raised $19,000 so far through https://www.gofundme.com/f/avroko-hospitality-group-staff-relief-fund?utm_source=customer&utm_medium=copy_link-tip&utm_campaign=p_cp+share-sheet

Contra | Wildair https://www.gofundme.com/f/contrawildairpeoples-workers-fund

Serafina GoFundMe "Serafina Family Fund" “All donations will go directly to our restaurant employees and their families. No gift is too small.”

Las lap
https://www.gofundme.com/f/las039-lap-employee-relief-fund?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=p_cp+share-sheet

Sugarmonk
https://www.gofundme.com/f/sugar-monk-nyc-staff-emergency-fund

The Dead Rabbit
https://www.gofundme.com/f/the-dead-rabbit-relief-fund

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FOR PETE'S SAKE! IS IT OR IS IT NOT A BAGEL?

"Let’s be clear: It does not hold a candle to the sesame bagel from Russ & Daughters or the bright-orange egg number they serve at Absolute Bagels. Yet I feel no shame championing this bagel to even the most ardent East Coast bagel purists, because this is not really a bagel. It clocks in at 420 calories and has 82 grams of carbs. It is the equivalent of eating roughly eight Oreos, and it is almost as sweet. Somehow, this is a food item that is still recognizably a bagel, but it has liberated itself from its inherent bagelness to become something else, something far more dessertlike. It could be considered a breakfast food, but only if you also consider cookies to be breakfast food.—Juan Vidal, “This Bagel Is Actually a Perfect Dessert. “ New York, Feb 25, 2020.

'WACKY' DOES NOT BEGIN TO DESCRIBE IT.
"DOPEY' KIND OF WORKS.

"It's a grilled langoustine that's served on some lardo di colonnata with pig's trotter jus. Just to the right of it is a little raviolo of burnt apple purée and apple consommé flavored with rosemary and the juice of pink lady and Granny Smith apples. The pink lady adds sweetness to the Granny Smith acidity. On top of that is some vanilla and Jasmine oil. You’ve got the sweet and sharp to go with the fattiness of the pork. The Langostino skewered with a beach twig. It’s a bit of a wacky dish but it works."—"Tom Aikens: 'The calibre of restaurants in London is so high, trying to stand out is tough,'" By Stefan Chomka, Restaurant Magazine (March 2020).

MARIANI'S VIRTUAL GOURMET NEWSLETTER is published weekly. Publisher: John Mariani. Editor: Walter Bagley. Contributing Writers: Christopher Mariani, Robert Mariani, Misha Mariani, John A. Curtas, Gerry Dawes, Geoff Kalish, and Brian Freedman. Contributing Photographer: Galina Dargery. Technical Advisor: Gerry McLoughlin.