Admittedly, this was not my favorite dish of the day. But I give it big points for originality and plating. Obviously, this is more of a breakfast dish, with a little nod to Wylie Dufresne,  a notorious eggophile. It’s no surprise that, when asked about his favorite restaurants and chefs in New York, Blais mentioned Dufresne and his temple to molecular gastronomy, WD-50.

Anyway, here’s the finished dish. Very pretty, I admit, and also the only dish with a full-on vegetable featured. Again, I liked it, but ham is not necessarily my favorite slice of pig. So while I liked the other components, I would rather have a different kind of schniztel.

No sooner did Blais pipe on the whipped maple (seen to the left of the egg), than it was time for some Q&A. Of course, being a blogger, and not a professional journalist, I did not write down any of the question or answers. But here’s the gist:

• He’s grateful for all the love he’s received since winning Top Chef. Especially from NYC, where’s he’s spent four of the past ten months.
• His cooking style has evolved and matured since participating in his first Top Chef competition. While he still enjoys using modern techniques, he also likes to showcase his classical training. He wants to cook real things for real people…although that doesn’t mean he won’t make a foam or two if he feels it’s warranted.
• He says he makes the normal things for his daughters, including peanut butter & jelly. But his elder daughter is already getting adventurous, asking for and downing some bone marrow recently.
• Where does he stand on offal? In short, Blais is a fan. Particularly, he pointed to pig cheeks, which he says are as tender and flavorful as pork shoulder. Ears, snout and tail also received mentions.
• Favorite NYC restaurants: WD-50, The Breslin, The John Dory Oyster Bar

While Richie continued to pontificate on other topics, we were served the last pieces of our pork extravaganza. The final savory dish was Slow-Roasted Pork Ribs. I’m not usually a ribs guy, but these were ridiculously delicious. And I’ve never seen any rib meat that needed less coaxing to fall off the bone. I kid you not, I looked away for a moment while holding a rib and was holding a bone when I gazed again. So goooooooooood!

• A portion of Malt & Agave Braised Pork Shoulder, which was not ready in time for the tasting. I finally ate mine today, including the sultry grits —  all I have to say is OMG.
• A pig shaped cutting board
• A copy of the Top Chef cookbook, signed by the man himself

I don’t think there’s anything left to say except THANK YOU to the National Pork Board and Richard Blais!

And although part of me wishes his last name was “Blaze” and he secretly fought crime with a combination of modern gastronomical techniques and hair product, that’s just not him. The guy is a beast in the kitchen, but one of the most cordial, approachable of the new rank of “food celebrities.”

How do I know this? I actually got a chance to meet the winner of Top Chef All-Stars last week at the National Pork Board’s pop-up Pork Inspiration Cafe.

Here’s a look at the actual cafe. It’s crazy that it was a one-day only affair, because I would have easily returned for lunch at least once a week.

But I wasn’t here for the cafe itself, as nice as it was. I was here for an exclusive cooking demonstration with Sir Richard Blais (I know it’s not in my power to knight him, but I’m going to anyway).  I was also lucky enough to sample all of the dishes being presented by the cafe that day. The first, Pork Bolognese, went down so easily that I only remembered to take a picture just before licking my plate. Richard confided that bolognese is his death-bed dish, and after tasting this, I’m inclined to agree.

Mr. Blais then entered stage right to demonstrate two dishes: Pear-Brined Pork Chop and Ham & Herb Schnitzel with 6-minute Egg.

He started with the pork chop, explaining that brining is not a technique the home cook should avoid. His advice: the solution should always be about 8% salt.

When finally cooking the chop, it doesn’t hurt to use lots of fat. The pans started with some lard and ghee (Indian clarified butter), and then were continually brushed by a butter sauce. Yes, you counted right: three fats!

But can you complain about the results? No, no you can’t…

Another hint for cooking pork chops: think of them like steak. They don’t have to be well done, and most of the time, a little pink is not a problem. By the way, that’s cauliflower macaroni and cheese in the back there. Also FYI: it was the most ridiculously rich and delectable mac and cheese I’ve ever eaten.

Break time. Look for Part II soon, in which I discuss that schnitzel, a couple more porky things, and some very cool swag from my hour with the inimitable Richard Blais.

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HELP FIGHT HUNGER!  I highly encourage you to “like” the Pork Be Inspired page at Facebook.com/PorkBeInspired. Through a partnership with Feeding America, the goal is to donate 125,000 servings of fresh pork to families in need.

No excuses this time — honestly, I’m finding it more and more difficult to actually sit down and write. Sure, I’ve had plenty of food-related experiences. A year’s worth. But I just can’t sit in front of another screen for hours, sharing those experiences with the world.

Especially because everybody and their mother is food blogging nowadays. Is it lazy of me to stop, or noble? Since I’m contributing less noise to an already cacophonous (SAT word!) digital world, I’ll say noble.

Anyway, I may show up now and again to put something up. But for now, you can count this as me signing off. It’s been fun…and filling.

Adios!

First up: the measuring spoons. Well, they’re measuring spoons. They come in all the right sizes, they measure correctly and I’ve used them successfully.

But here’s the difference: magnets! I never lose these things because of the small magnets in each spoon that allow them to find each other. Genius, I tell you!

It kind of makes me wish all of my cooking tools had magnets. Since I live in a tiny NYC apartment, it would save all sorts of room. I’d just have one big amoeba of cooking implements, like a rubber band ball. Although, come to think of it, it would be hard to get anything that wasn’t on the outside. So maybe not.

Anyway, on to the measuring cup/bowl. As anything Pyrex, this thing is made of sturdy glass. And it’s got a nice rubber lining at the bottom which helps it stay in place as I throw ingredients in. I like that I can tell from the top how much I’ve put in, and it’s so wide I can mix stuff in it. Sweet!

So if you plan on measuring stuff, do yourself a favor and pick up one or both of these. If you don’t plan on measuring stuff, get the spoons anyway. Because, well…magnets are just fun.

But that was the name of the class we attended at ICE: The Institute of Culinary Education way back in October.

Actually, the full name was “Couples: Gourmet Breakfast in Bed” and we had been meaning to go for almost two years. It was a Christmas gift, you see, and a good one at that. My wife gave it to me for Christmas 2007, back when we were in Philadelphia. Two location changes later and we were running out of time, so here we were.

James Briscione

Our instructors were the husband-and-wife team of James Briscione (a professional chef who some may recognize from his appearances on Chopped) and  Brooke Parkhurst (an author). Overall, the class was loose, fun and informative.

Our group consisted of the instructors and five other couples, whose experience ran the gamut from novice to fairly good. We split into three groups to tackle the six dishes on the menu.

The wife and I (and our partners) were responsible for two of the more basic dishes: blueberry pancakes and breakfast burritos. After James taught us some knife skills (including a killer move for chopping sweet peppers), we were basically left alone to go at it. Some interesting things I learned along the way:

• Breakfast burritos are a favorite meal of many chefs. James was not the first who’s told me that it’s his go-to comfort food.
• You don’t have to cover rice to cook it. You can make it “pasta style” by adding the rice to salted water and draining the results.
• If you want the blueberries to stay in the middle of a pancake, do not mix them into the batter. Instead, add a handful into each pancake right before you flip it.

In addition to the above two dishes, each person was given the chance to make a perfect lump crabmeat omelet. If you do it right (like James), it takes only a few minutes to cook. He taught us the French folding technique, which makes these omelets look more like crepes than what you see in a typical diner. Mine turned out pretty well, although it was slightly overcooked on the bottom. (Though compared to some of my fellow classmates’ attempts, my omelet was a masterpiece.)

After assembling the burritos and making a ton of pancakes, we were ready to assemble all of the dishes for a breakfast feast. Of course, it was a Friday night, which is kind of weird time to have a breakfast feast.

Here’s a final rundown of the dishes. See if you can identify them all in the images.

1. Sherry Shrimp and Grits

2. Blueberry Pancakes

3. Buttermilk Raspberry Muffins

4. Baked Apples with Creme Fraiche

5. Savory Sweet Potato Tart with Garlic Custard

6. Lump Crabmeat Omelet

7. Breakfast Burritos

For the most part, everything turned out nicely. Some of the muffins were a bit undercooked, but the tart was amazing! Not only was the experience worth the time and money, but we got to take home the recipes. Writing this may be the inspiration I need to finally whip up some burritos.

To the kitchen, mi amigos!

Kielbasa and pierogi — them’s real Polish eats. Or at least the only thing I know about Polish food.

Before I met my wife, I never got pierogi (it’s plural…really). OK, I understood them, I just never purchased them. I think it’s because I saw them as a lesser version of the holiest of Italian foods, ravioli. Potato? Who needs it when you can get some nice ricotta cheese in the middle?

It didn’t help that we didn’t know how to prepare these potato-filled dumplings. I mean, we knew to boil them, but then what do you put on them? We usually used leftover tomato sauce, but it was overpowering. So I turned to the Internet…and wonder of wonders, it suggested a classic Italian preparation: fry them up with some butter and olive oil, after softening some onion and garlic in the pan.

Fine by me.

After adding some salt and pepper, these things were done. So it was time to add some Polish protein: the oft-maligned kielbasa sausage. In our case, it was Lean Turkey Kielbasa, courtesy of Jennie-O. Well, actually it was courtesy of the company because they didn’t send it to me free. (But if you’re reading this, Jennie-O, you still have time!)

Anyway, I cut it up into big chunks and threw them into the pan for some heat (it comes fully cooked already). Now that I’m looking at pictures of how it’s prepared elsewhere, I’m thinking I left the chunks a little too big. Maybe they’re supposed to be cut into coin-like shapes, as pictured on the package. Eh, what do packaging pictures know?

After a thorough mixing of the pierogi and kielbasa pieces, we only had to wait for the string beans to finish steaming and we were ready to eat.

I think it turned out pretty good for a quick, mid-week meal. The only problem? The kielbasa was salty as all get-out. I mean, lip-curling, water-clamoring saltiness. Hey Jennie-O, you don’t need to make up for the fact that it’s turkey with more salt than the ocean. It’d still be good with half the sodium.

This is the part where I end with a funny but inappropriate Polish joke. Fortunately for you, I don’t know any. Feel free to leave some good ones in the comments…

Even though I’m thinking of moving all my restaurant reviews to Yelp, I figure I at least owe you this post. And by “you” I mean both my readers (are you still here?) and my neighborhood.

Ready? Let’s do this.

While I still think the Upper West Side has its problems, and it cannot even pretend to be a restaurant hot-spot, that doesn’t mean that we haven’t had some good meals here. Over the past few months, I’ve found a few places worth staying close to home for.

Nice-Matin

You know what I love about the above picture (which I shamelessly borrowed from this blog)? It shows the exact table we ate it. It’s the one on the left with the dude in the white shirt. In fact, he kind of looks like me. So you have my official permission to imagine that he is me, and that you’re watching me eat dinner. Exciting, isn’t it?

I was only reminded of this restaurant recently, when a friend posted a review on Yelp. My wife and I actually ate here months earlier, in the middle of grueling apartment search.

Although I’m going by my rapidly deteriorating memory, I have nothing but warm and fuzzy feelings for this French bistro. It wasn’t stuffy (as some French places can be) and the food and drinks were well prepared and priced. The fish (snapper for me and salmon for my wife) was fresh and delicious, and dining al fresco on busy Amsterdam street is one of those quintessential NYC experiences.

If you have to eat on the UWS, eat here.

Shake Shack

Honestly, so much has been written about this updated-but-still-old-school burger joint, I’m probably not going to be saying anything new.

However, I feel I must get a few points across:

• The burgers are fantastic. Probably some of the best I’ve ever had, and certainly the best of any quickly prepared burger since last time I was on the west coast (In-N-Out animal style, I’m looking at you). As opposed to other burgers, these actually taste like beef…and glorious beef at that.
• The chocolate milkshake was similarly revelatory. Maybe they faked me out, but there was a deep chocolate flavor there. It was also thick without being pure ice cream. Perfect.
• The fries suck. Sorry, but they do.

Because I don’t want to end on a negative note, I’ll say that this place is a spitting distance to one of my favorite places – the Museum of Natural History – which has enough of a park to allow slow savoring of the SS deliciousness. I recommend you grab a bench and enjoy.

Big Nick’s

This place is classic.

There’s no other word for it. Its menu is a million pages long, it’s open 24 hours (or 23 with one hour of clean up) and it serves every kind of pizza, burger, salad and sandwich imaginable. And it’s right up the street from our apartment!

I’ve had a bistro burger, which was probably one of the more upscale burger they have, and what else can I say – they nailed it! The pizza by the slice is similarly great: a thin, huge wedge of NYC goodness. It gets a little crisp when they warm up it up, and it practically begs to be folded, NYC style.

The only chink in Big Nick’s armor (that I’ve witnessed anyway) would be their take-out/delivery pizza. I don’t know if it’s a different person making it or what, but it’s nowhere near as good as their pizza by the slice.

Other than that, this place is the ultimate utility player. Go late night for added crazy.

Sarabeth’s West

We heard this was the best brunch on the UWS, and having not consulted any other place for brunch, I’d have to agree.

As was expected, there was a line when we arrived. But it actually went quickly, partially because we were staring at some sort of Latin Arts parade that hadn’t yet got started.

The restaurant itself was an anomaly: it just doesn’t look like a NYC restaurant. With its pleasant, but decidedly not busy or trendy interior, I wouldn’t have been surprised if we were dining anywhere on the east coast: urban, suburban or otherwise.

I was in a sweet mood (as opposed to savory) and got the cinnamon-apple French toast. I can’t put my finger on one particular thing, but this plate was amazing. Each piece was the perfect size, the perfect flavor and with the right amount of fruit, butter and syrup accompaniment.

Actually, now that I think about, I don’t remember anything my wife or her friend got. For all I know, their food could have been terrible. But anyplace that wows me with French toast gets the benefit of the doubt.

Oh wait, I remember one more thing: our waitress had the most annoying voice I’ve ever heard. And that’s how I’m going to end the post. Kind of anti-climactic, ain’t it?

It really saddens me to say this, but my new neighborhood is a vast culinary wasteland.

Sure, I haven’t eaten out nearly as much as I used to. The economy and the fabled NYC cost of living increase has certainly taken their toll. However, the wife and I have tried several eateries in the past month and a half, and we were not impressed.

To wit:

Citrus (photo above)

This restaurant is only a few block from my apartment and boasts “Latin fare with Asian flair.” It’s a fun motto, which is matched by the almost clubby atmosphere of the interior. It’s a modern place, very glossy looking, with the patronage to match.

Unfortunately, the food’s not very good.

We started with a bland salmon tartare, which I followed with some bland sushi. Particularly troubling was the rice, which was not nearly sticky enough to cohese and fell apart in each piece of nagiri. My wife had the  Ancho Chile Glazed Salmon (wasabi infused cauliflower-potato mash & agave glazed carrots & zucchini), which was definitely the best thing we ingested that night. Still, it wasn’t nearly worth the price tag, and we left without dessert.

I’m not thinking we’ll ever go again, but if we do, we’ll probably stick with the Latin fare without the Asian flair.

La Vela

As was the case with Jersey, New York City is littered with Italian restaurants. And the Upper West Side is no exception.

We chose La Vela from among five or six others vying for the distinction of being not only the first Italian restaurant we went to in our new neighborhood, but also the one we would bring the parents-in-law. It fit the bill we were looking for: it was close and looked like it served basic Italian.

This is one of those Italian joints that drowns about 70% of its menu in red sauce. Which, honestly, can be good or bad, depending on the red sauce. I thought La Vela’s was actually decent, though my wife wasn’t so impressed.

The big winner of the night was the fresh pastas, including my spinach ravioli, my wife’s gnocchi, and my mother-in-law’s linguine. But there were some major problems. The mussels that my wife and her father shared were hit-and-miss. They both tossed a few aside because they didn’t taste “fresh.” That’s never good.

Also, the shrimp in my mother-in-law’s dish were overcooked. And then there was the aforementioned red sauce. Despite what we thought of it, there was simply too much.

Look, I like this type of ‘traditional’ Italian food. I grew up on the stuff. But there’s a big difference between restaurants that are still trying to make things good and those that are just resting on the fact that East Coasters gobble this stuff up, no matter what the quality. It’s the difference between a place like Ralph’s (in Philly) and a place like La Vela.

No offense, but people like me can tell the difference.

Cafe Con Leche

This place is weird.

The menu says that it serves Latin American, Cuban and Caribbean cuisine. And I guess it does. But it’s awfully suspicious that it’s adjacent to an Indian restaurant and the entire waitstaff was Indian. Somehow, the food just didn’t seem that authentic. And it wasn’t what you’d call good.

I can’t seem to find the menu to give you exact names, but we started out with some shrimp in garlic sauce housed in what I can only describe as a hive of molded plantains. The mini shrimp were decent, as was the garlic sauce, but the plantains were the most tasteless, bland things I’ve ever eaten. There was not a hint of sweet to them, and even the texture seemed off.

Because I wasn’t that hungry, I chose a salad for my entree. While it was nice and crispy, it also seemed suspiciously pre-made, or at least the lettuce, tomato and cucumber base did. To this they added a few scraps of avocado (presentation is not a strong suit) and some of the same mini shrimp that were in the appetizer. The dressing didn’t have the bite I was expecting and there was entirely too little of it.

My wife made out a little better with her mango chicken dish – flattened pieces of chicken, breaded and sauteed with a mango sauce. It still didn’t seem quite Latin enough, but it was the best thing we got.

Sorry Cafe Con Leche, you lost me at hello.

Next time: the good parts of Upper West Side food.  (It may be a small post.)

OK, don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that POM Wonderful (or any pomegranate juice) tastes like the synthetic blood featured on the increasingly popular HBO vampire series, True Blood.

Granted, I’ve never tasted synthetic blood, nor any blood for that matter. But even if it doesn’t taste like it, pomegranate juice sure looks like True Blood. It’s dark red and thick…with a slightly syrupy quality.

However, a more apt comparison for the product is V, the vampire blood turned human drug that comes from the same show. Like V, a drug so potent that only a drop evokes waves of hypnotic euphoria, pomegranate juice yields its own bounty: tons of life-prolonging antioxidants.

Antioxidants, also found in such foods as blueberries, salmon, red wine and dark chocolate, is extremely concentrated in pomegranate juice. And POM Wonderful is the only pomegranate juice that is backed by medical research, including studies that link its use to increased cardiovascular and prostate health (in addition to some sexual benefits for men…woohoo!). It’s all documented here.

So why am I talking all this wonderful about POM? Well, a couple months ago these folks were kind enough to send me a whole case of their mini-bottled product. I’ll admit, when I first opened one, I didn’t know what to expect.

While I’d never had pomegranate juice before, I had seen an actual pomegranate. The inside looks like an alien nesting hive filled with what looks like red fish eggs. These eggs are presumably juice sacs that POM manages to painstakingly drain. I would assume this is the reason behind the relatively high price of pomegranate juice. (Or maybe it really is vampire blood.)

So what does it taste like?

Well, I assume most of you have had it before. It tastes exactly like what you think it would taste like: a tarter, more concentrated version of cranberry juice.

OK, maybe that’s not what you thought it would taste like considering the grotesque picture to the left. But that’s it.

I would be lying if I didn’t say it’s little hard to drink straight up. After a couple sips, your tongue sort of rebels against that particular taste, and it can be a chore to get through a whole bottle…

Which is why you shouldn’t drink POM alone. It’s a juice that’s made to be mixed. You can’t go wrong with various seltzers and I’d imagine ginger ale is also good with it. If you’re feeling saucy (and let’s face it, who isn’t?), throw a dash of vodka or gin in there. Or more than a dash.

I’m not one to judge how you take your pomegranate juice. I’m just making suggestions for a more pleasurable experience while getting your full wallops of antioxidants.

But you wanna know the best part of drinking POM?

You don’t have to drain a vampire to get it.

In which I apologize for a distinct lack of posting and explain why that is.

1. Work has been a madhouse.
2. I went on vacation.
3. I moved.
4. I moved.
5. I moved.

The good news? I moved to New York City. Or maybe that’s a bad thing, considering how many food bloggers are already here and doing a damn better job than me.

Anyway, I hope to be getting this blog back into fighting shape by September, so please stay tuned!