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MARIANI’S

Virtual Gourmet

December 22, 2003 NEWSLETTER

Merry Christmas Everyone!

ritz

Christmas 2003 at The Palm Court at The Ritz. London

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EDITOR'S NOTE: This newsletter is also available on the very comprehensive food site www.sautewednesday.com which has dozens of other links to food articles from around the world, as well as at The Grumpy Gourmet at http://www.grumpygourmetusa.com/links.html

-Readers trying to reach me through e-mail cannot do so by hitting REPLY to this newsletter. Instead, write to me directly at johnmariani@prodigy.net .
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Cover Story: A Child's Christmas in the Bronx by John Mariani

New York Corner: by John Mariani

A Gentle Man and a Scholar by John Mariani

QUICK BYTES
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A Child's Christmas in the Bronx
by John Mariani

Maybe it didn't snow for Christmas every year in the Bronx back in the '50s. But But my memory of at least one perfect snow-bound Christmas Eve makes me think it did often enough that I still picture my neighborhood as white as

Finland

in those days when I lived along the choppy waters of the Long Island Sound.
   But for all the decorations and the visits to stores and Rockefeller Center, it was the sumptuous Christmas feasts helped maintain our families' links to the Old Country long after most other immigrant traditions had faded away. Food was always central to everyone's thoughts at Christmas, and the best cooks in each family were renowned for specific dishes no one else dared make.

John and Robert Mariani, 1950

   The assumption that everything would be exactly the same as last year was as comforting as knowing that Christmas Day would follow Christmas Eve. The finest ancestral linens were ironed and smoothed into place, dishes of hard candy were set out on every table, and the kitchen ovens hissed and warmed our homes for days. The reappearance of the old dishes, the irresistible aromas, tastes and textures, even the seating of family members in the same spot at the table year after year anchored us to a time and a place that was already changing more rapidly than we could understand.
    It's funny now to think that my memories of the food and the dinners are so much more intense than those of toys and games I received, but that seems true of most people. The exact taste of Christmas cookies, the sound of beef roasting in its pan, and the smell of evergreen mixed with the scent of cinnamon and cloves and lemon in hot cider were like holy incense in church, unforgettable, like the way you remember your parents' faces when they were young.
   No one in our neighborhood was poor but few were rich. Yet we mounted feasts as lavish as any I could imagine in a book, and in the days preceding Christmas people took enormous joy in spending their money on foods only eaten during that season.
   It was still a time when the vegetable man would sell his produce from an old truck on Campbell Drive, and Dugan's and Krug's bread men came right to your door with special holiday cupcakes and cookies. The butcher on Middletown Road usually carried fresh fish only on Fridays, but he was always well stocked with cod, salmon, lobsters and eel during the holidays. The pastry shops worked overtime to bake special Christmas breads and cakes, which would be gently wrapped in a swaddling of very soft pink tissue paper tied up with ribbons and sometimes even sealed with wax to deter anyone from opening it before Christmas.
   By Christmas Eve the stores ran out of everything, and pity the poor cook who delayed in buying her chestnuts, ricotta cheese, or fresh yeast until it was too late. Weeks in advance the women would put in their order at the live poultry market for a female rabbit--not a male--or a goose that had to weigh exactly twelve pounds.
   You always knew what people were cooking for Christmas because the aromas hung in the hallways of the garden apartments and the foyers of their homes--garlicky tomato sauces, roast turkeys, rich shellfish stews, and the sweet, warm smells of pastries and breads could make you dizzy with hunger. When you went out into the cold, those aromas would slip out the door and mingle with the biting sea-salted air and the fresh wet snow swept in off the Sound.
   At the Italian homes in the Bronx ancient culinary rituals were followed long after they'd lost their original religious symbolism. The traditional meatless meal of Christmas Eve--"La Vigilia"--which began centuries ago as a form of penitential purification, developed into a robust meal of exotic seafood dishes that left one reeling from the table. According to the traditions of Abruzzo, where my father's family came from, the Christmas Eve dinner should be composed of seven or nine dishes--mystical numbers commemorating the seven sacraments and the Holy Trinity multiplied by three. This was always my Auntie Rose's shining moment. She would cook with the zeal and energy of a dozen nuns, beginning with little morsels of crisply fried calamari. She made spaghetti on a stringed utensil called a "ghitarra" and served it with a sauce teeming with shellfish. Next came an enormous pot of lobster fra diavolo--a powerful coalescence of tomato, garlic, onion, saffron and hot red peppers, all spooned into soup plates around shiny, scarlet-red lobsters that some guests attacked with daunting, unbridled gusto while others took their dainty time extracting every morsel of meat from the deepest recesses of the body, claws and legs.
   Few children would eat baccala, a strong-smelling salted cod cooked for hours in order to restore its leathery flesh to edibility, and stewed eel, an age-old symbol of renewal, was a delicacy favored mostly by the oldtimers. But everyone waited for the dessert--the yeasty, egg bread called "panettone," shaped like a church dome and riddled with golden raisins and candied fruit.
Christmas Day came too early for everyone but the children, but as soon as presents were exchanged, my mother and grandmother would begin work on the lavish Christmas dinner to be served that afternoon. It was always a mix of regional Italian dishes and American novelties, like the incredibly rich, bourbon-laced egg nog my father insisted on serving before my grandmother's lasagne, in which were hidden dozens of meatballs the size of hazelnuts. Then my mother would set down a massive roast beef, brown and crackling on the outside, red as a poinsettia within, surrounded by sizzling roast potatoes and Yorkshire pudding glistening from the fat absorbed from the beef. Dessert reverted to venerable Italian tradition with my grandmother's prune-and-chocolate filled pastries and honeyed cookies called "struffoli."
   After such a meal, we needed to go for a walk in the cold air. In other homes up and down our block people were feasting on Norwegian lutefisk, Swedish meatballs, German stollen, Irish plum pudding and American gingerbread. If you stopped and listened for a moment, you could hear the families singing carols in their native tongue.
   By early evening people got ready to leave and leftovers were packed up to take home, belying everyone's protest that they wouldn't eat for days afterwards.
   By then the snow had taken on an icy veneer and the wind died down to a whisper. I remember how the cold air magnified sounds far, far away, so as I crept into bed I could hear the waves lapping the sea wall and the rattling clack-clack, clack-clack of the El running from Buhre Avenue to Middletown Road. It was a kind of lullaby in those days, when it never failed to snow on Christmas in the Bronx.

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NEW YORK CORNER

L'Absinthe
227 East 67th Street
212-794-4950
www.labsinthe.com

Photo: Galina Stepanoff-Dargery

     New York is blessed with bistros and brasseries, some every bit as good as those in Paris that inspire them. Some, like Balthazar are canny repros of the ambiance of the big brasseries on Montparnasse; others, like Café Luxembourg, Les Halles, and La Goulue are darling copies of more intimate Parisian classics, with their dark wood, tilted mirrors, and wicker or bentwood chairs; still other, like JoJo and DB Bistro Moderne, are more stylistic expressions than true bistros. But my favorite is to my mind the closest to the real thing--a family-owned, very personalized restaurant where traditional fare is appended with the chef's nightly specials--the ten-year-old L'Absinthe, one of the very few restaurants on Manhattan's Upper East Side of any real substance.
       L'Absinthe is the obvious labor of love of chef Jean-Michel Bergougnoux, whose presence is palpable and whose personality is manifested in the cordiality of the staff here, which is predominantly, resolutely French. The banquettes are the requisite dark reddish-brown, the brass rails gleam, the art nouveau chandeliers glow, and the mirrors expand the intimacy of the place, along with sprays of flowers and a golden lighting that brings warmth and gregariousness to the two-tiered room. Curiously enough, despite the obvious elation of a well-dressed crowd, conversation is not in the least bit stifled by noise.
     Bergougnoux's menu maintains its legacy from long bistro/brasserie traditions by offering dishes like beef tartare, steak frites, sole à la meuniére, cassoulet, and roast chicken, but he goes far beyond those with his own ideas and two or three nightly specials. We sat down to a salad of lobster with black truffles, celeriac rémoulade, string beans and a Port truffle vinaigrette, as well as a cocktail of Peekytoe crab with pickled cauliflower and trout roe with a crab reduction. Cannelloni came stuffed with lobster and an asparagus-lobster sauce. A hearty serving of pig's trotter stuffed with foie gras and apple and drizzled with a cider reduction could not have been better, and poached garlic sausage studded with pistachios and black truffles with a baby gold potato salad on the side was the soul of bistro ingenuity. My favorite was a bowl of sautéed snails--very tender--served with carrot, garlic, and shallots in a frothy mushroom cappuccino.
      It was a cold night so big rich dishes seemed a capital idea, beginning with marinated pork tenderloin roasted with the scent of sage, a frisée salad, crispy potato galette and a porcini-macadamia nut jus--a fine melding of ingredients that really worked well--and, surprise of surprises, "Peking duck" with a reduction of espresso and Banyuls wine and a confit of winter vegetables. It really did have the crisp skin of Peking duck and the meat was velvety and full flavored, marvelously enhanced by the disparate blend of the coffee and wine. I found it impossible not to order the pot au feu, the evening's special, and was rewarded with a copper pot brimming with beef brisket, winter vegetables and a marrow bone steaming in a rich broth. Only all that preceded this dish prevented me from finishing every last spoonful. I hadn't even thought to order L'Absinthe's French fries, which are paraded frequently through the room emitting that unique aroma perfect frites always have. labsinthe2

      There are several cheeses offered each evening, and the wine list is an excellent screed of big names from Bordeaux, Burgundy and California, along with much more affordable regional French wines of Cahors, Madiran, Bandol and elsewhere.
          Desserts are wonderful and bistro homey, like the coupe glacée et chocolat liégois (basically a generous French sundae), a sweet, tender, crisp apple tart with vanilla ice cream, and a trilogy of caramel desserts, including a miroir, ice cream, caramelized pear and caramel sauce.
      No one leaves L'Absinthe hungry and people come here to eat, not graze. You don't see many ordering nothing but a salad or poached salmon (which isn't on the menu), and many share a big platter of shellfish, which can range from $49 (for two people) to $98 (for four). It's always celebratory, always packed, and often you'll see a solo diner enjoying himself immensely with a bistro classic and half-bottle of red wine. For me, L'Absinthe is the model for New York's bistro/brasseries and Bergougnoux the paragon of the dedicated French chefs who cooks as he wishes to please a receptive crowd.
      Prices for appetizers run $11-$19, entrees $22-$35. L'Absinthe does a very popular Sunday brunch.

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A GENTLE MAN AND A SCHOLAR: ALAN DAVIDSON (1924-2003)
by John Mariani

       While writing my Dictionary of Italian Food & Drink some years ago, I was constantly pecked out by a copy editor who, when trying to nail me on what she believed to be yet another error in my text, would write in the margin, "Not in Davidson" or "Davidson said otherwise," referring to Alan Davidson, author of the marvelously comprehensive book Mediterranean Seafood.   Just as I was on the verge of wringing the neck of this peevish (but often right) editor, a note arrived from Alan Davidson telling me how often he'd turned to my books to help him with the research for his own Oxford Companion to Food, which appeared, after 20 years of daunting preparation, in 1999. He told me that several times a day he'd call to his wife Jane, "Toss over the Mariani!" when trying to puzzle something out. I sent a copy of this letter to my copy editor, from whom I never heard another word about my friend Alan Davidson.
    But aside from the one upmanship Alan's letter provided me over that editor, nothing could have made me prouder than to think that Alan would consult my work for his own, for in my mind he was the world's leading food scholar and one of the true gentleman of an often snarky profession. Alan, whom I got to know over the past 20 years and with whom I dined on all too few occasions, was indeed a gentle man, soft spoken, ever curious, and possessed of a catholic interest in so many subjects that I'm surprised it took him a scant 20 years to finish his magnum opus. By the time he did finish it he was already on to writing about Hollywood actresses of the 1930s--which just happened to be another interest of mine, so we shared books on that subject too. When I heard the news of his death in early December, I knew that the world had lost a great scholar and I an endearing friend.
     His life was rich beyond imagining, for he'd been a seaman in World War II, ending as a lieutenant, after which he completed his degree in classical moderations at Oxford, then joined the British foreign service with posts in London, Washington, and the Hague before heading for Cairo during the Suez Crisis. In 1951 he met his enchanting wife, an American girl named Jane Macatee, with whom he had three daughters.
    Tunis followed, where he wrote his first book on The Seafish of Tunisia and the Central Mediterranean (1963), which became the basis for Mediterranean Seafood. He returned to Europe to fill several important positions, including as head of chancery to NATO, during which time he published works on European politics. In 1973, during the Vietnam War, he was posted to Vientiane, Laos, leaving that demanding position at the age of 51 to focus on food writing and publishing. One of the first of his monumental projects was to translate, with Jane, Dumas' Grand Dictionnaire de Cuisine, while editing the food history journal Petits Propos Culinaires and founding Prospect Books, and hosting the mock-serious series of Oxford Symposiums on Food and Cookery, which treated of the most arcane culinary subjects with wit and a good deal of regaling after hours.
     I knew Alan and Jane not intimately but, I think, well, for we shared the same ebullience for food as part of human culture, and there was nothing I loved more than discussing the subject with them over a good meal. Alan was a slight man and not particularly energetic in the last years I knew him, but the sparkle in his eye and his dry, British wit--never caustic, never self-important--was to me the very measure of an English gentleman. Never driven by money (he said he'd only gotten a £15,000 advance on the Companion), he was simply elated by the thought of finding something new in an interesting or odd context. How fine a conversationalist he was! How inspiring a man of intellect! And how down-to-earth his attitude towards all that falls within the scope of human culture! His infatuation with Carole Lombard was testament to the good taste of the man.
    I recall how, on their visiting New York, I took Jane and Alan to a Greek seafood restaurant and how genuinely pleased he was with my choice and of the simple food he ate that night. To me his approval was like a benediction from a man who would scoff at the very idea. I miss him very much.

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RECORD NUMBER OF WORDS USED IN A RESTAURANT REVIEW INTRO BEFORE ACTUALLY MENTIONING THE RESTAURANT:

Two hundred thirty, beginning with:

“I’m sweating, finally.”
--Hal Rubenstein in a review of Nice Matin in New York Magazine (Aug. 11, 2003).

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OXYMORON, Cookbook Division

veggie

Sinfully Vegan: 140 Decadent Desserts to Satisfy Every Vegan’s Sweet Tooth by Lois Dieterly (Marlowe & Co) includes recipes for “Banana Split Cake” made with whipped tofu topping; “Oops, I Dropped My Cake,” made with Ener-G Egg Replacer; and “I Can’t Believe They’re Not Sinful Brownies,” made with flax powder.

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QUICK BYTES

* From Jan 9-April 9 Boston’s Wine Festival will be hosted by the Boston Harbor Hotel with a series of events including vintners’ dinners. For info call 888-600-WINE; www.BostonWine.Festival.net
* From Jan. 31-March 27 the 11^th Annual Napa Valley Mustard festival will be held, including dinner series, family nights, concerts and more. For info call 800-427-4124; www.winetrain.com

NEW YEAR'S EVE

* Chicago's NoMi's first seating will take place at 5:30 p.m. and includes a 3-course $100 prix fixe menu. Revelers preferring a later start can enjoy a 5-course $180 at the 9:30 p.m., concluding with a champagne toast at midnight and dancing, followed by Sunday Brunch from 10:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. Call 312-239-4030 or visit www.NoMIrestaurant.com.

* NYC: Le Cirque 2000 will have 2 seatings, 6:30 & 9:30 for a 6-course dinner at $225 pp Call 212-303-7788.. . . Osteria del Circo offers a 5-course menu served from 9 PM-midnight at $150 pp and à la carte from 5:30-9 PM. Call 212-265-3636. . . Seppi's offers a 5-course dinner at $80 pp with live jazz; pre-theater and a la carte available until 8 PM. Call 212-708-7444. . . . Café des Artistes offers a 5-course dinner seated 5:30-6 PM at $95, and a 6-course dinner seated at 7:45-8:15 at $125. . . . Diners will receive a bottle of Champagne with dinner at Dumonet in the Carlyle Hotel, and afterwards dance to the Peter Duchin orchestra; $425 pp. At the Cafe Carlyle dinner, Champagne and singer Bobby Short (2 seatings) runs $500 pp. Call 212-744-1600. . . . Tavern on the Green offers two options: A buffet dinner dance at $155, or a Gala 6-course dinner with an 8-piece band, tix ranging $259-$466, with a bottle of Dom Pérignon; Call 212-873-3200, x. 282. . . . Lotus opens its doors at 8:30 pm with hors d'oeuvres and buffet food stations, along with DJs on 2 floors. $160 pp Access to club, Entire night; $85 Entrance @ 11pm, 2 hour Open Bar; $30 Entrance @ 1am to Club; Call 212-255-8060 x15.

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* On January 6 Three Kings Day, or El Dia de los Tres Reyes Magos, one of the most the most important holiday traditions in Puerto Rico, the island brims with festivities, including parades, singing and dancing, as well as traditional Three Kings Day crafts and cuisine.. As part of this year's celebration, the Puerto Rico Tourism Company is bringing the celebration to NYC at the James Beard House, featuring award-winning chef Marisoll Hernandez. In addition, guests will be treated to a selection of Puerto Rican rum drinks during the cocktail reception. Call 888-331-8844 or prtourism@edelman.com .

* On Jan. 18 Honolulu Magazine's 20th Annual Hale 'Aina restaurant awards will feature a stroll-around gourmet feast prepared by Hawaii's chefs George "Chef Mavro" Mavrothalassitis; Alan Wong, Alan Wong's; Roy Yamaguchi, Roy's; Roberto Los Banos, Bali by the Sea; Chai Chaowasaree, Chai's Island Bistro; Donato Loperfido, Donato's; Steven Chiang, Golden Dragon; and Rodney Uyehara, The Bistro at Century Center. Also, guests can taste an array of cheeses from Island Epicure. $150 pp. ($125 if purchased with an Amex card). Call 808- 537-9500, x 500.

EDITOR'S NOTE: This newsletter is also available on the very comprehensive food site www.sautewednesday.com
which has dozens of other links to food articles from around the world, as well as at The Grumpy Gourmet at http://www.grumpygourmetusa.com/links.html

-Readers trying to reach me through e-mail cannot do so by hitting REPLY to this newsletter. Instead, write to me directly at johnmariani@prodigy.net .

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MARIANI'S VIRTUAL GOURMET NEWSLETTER is published weekly. Editor/Publisher: John Mariani. Contributing Writers: Robert Mariani. Naomi Kooker, Kirsten Skogerson, Edward Brivio, Robert Mariani, Mort Hochstein. Contributing Photographers: Galina Stepanoff-Dargery, Bobby Pirillo. Technical Advisor: Gerry McLoughlin.

John Mariani is a columnist for Esquire, Wine Spectator, Diversion and the Harper Collection. He is author of The Encyclopedia of American Food & Drink (Lebhar-Friedman), The Dictionary of Italian Food and Drink (Broadway), and, with his wife Galina, the award-winning new Italian-American Cookbook (Harvard Common Press). To purchase from amazon.com, click on the image below.