I’m up the part in “The Omnivore’s Dilema” about how a human can only consume so many pounds of food in a year and how this is a bane of food corporations. That got me thinking about beverages.

There are so many more alternative (and malternative) beverages on the market than from when I was a kid. We had the big name brand sodas, powdered ice tea mix and those barrel “juices” that were 10 for $1 and made my throat scratchy. Then came along Snapple and Wendy with their juices, teas and sodas (which I miss, like the cherry-lime rickey) and other small companies that didn’t make it (Original New York Seltzer). Then Red Bell. Vitamin Water. Arizona. Pomegranate juice. The explosion of bottled water and fall-out of people ooh-la-la-ing someone who drinks Evian. We spend so much money on beverages when tap water is basically free.

Even the liquor companies have jumped on the band wagon and released new drink flavors. Vanilla vodka, mango rum and coffee tequila. Though, I think this is a total novelty and assume the market for these things are high maintenance women and guidos.

This isn’t a call to go back to the basics. I actually dig the vast varieties. I’m sipping on a Ito En peach tea right now that costs $1.50 each at Fairway. One bottle contains 120 calories and 30g of sugars. I am prone to buying the large gallon sizes of Diet Arizona Green Tea with honey, which I refer to as “Juice”. I’m not a soda drinker any more, but I’m currently a sucker for anything new and “natural” that’s flavored with natural sugars. Unfortunately, more often than not, they are shitty.

What is it about new beverages that make us say, “Oooh, I wanna try that!”? More so with most people than foods. When’s the last time you heard someone say, “Celery root? I’ve never had that. I gotta get me some.”

“‘Ey, oh! Lemme get a blueberry martini wit Red Bull. And a jack’n'diet for my bro.”

People like pictures. And I guess you’d expect a food blog to have photos of food. But it’s going to be awhile before I supply you with some because my third Canon Elph broke today while I was shooting Matt training his recently sprouted hop plants. I’m looking into a Panasonic Lumix camera because they have Leica lenses and they are half the cost of Leica digital cameras. The moral of the story is fool me three times, I call shenanigans on your camera company. Canon, you’ve made The List.

In other news, I was weeding my backyard today and found some sort of melon or squash plants! I’m not quite sure what kind they are, but I’ll find out later on in the year. I’d take photos and post them, but you know.

We finally dined at Petite Crevette on Hicks tonight. I say finally because it’s around the corner from our apartment and I pass by it at least twice a day. It’s an adorable little French bistro that’s heavy on seafood but light on the palate. Great service and a very welcoming staff (one of the servers recognized me from earlier in the day when I was walking Pokey by there). I wish we had a table by the kitchen, because it’s fascinatingly tiny: Four burners, one cutting board and only room enough for one cook. We started with the crab corn chowder and soft shell crab (deep fried and served with frites over a bed of greens with mustard and wasabi mayo). For entrees we had Long Island striped bass and tuna steak nicoise (rare) - both served with amazing mashed potatoes (creamy and buttery, but still fluffy and potatoey) and al dente carrots, haricot verts and zucchini. To finish, some of that famous Red Hook key lime pie with whipped cream, which I was really impressed with because it wasn’t too sweet. Petite Crevette is byob (corking fee is $5) and does not take credit cards. Total for two appetizers, two special entrees, one dessert and corking fee was $90 including tax and tip. They have a take-out menu and are open for lunch. This is a not an itis causing eatery.

Yo momma’s face is so ugly… 

There’s no food move that I hate more than an overcooked piece of meat. Especially a quality piece of meat. And yesterday I ruined a roast and am still lamenting it. It’s never happened to me before. I used to be able to cook roast beef to perfection even without a thermometer.

Yesterday I had a little casual dinner party. I braved Fairway twice this weekend for supplies. Jamie Oliver’s Sunday Roast: Roast beef with rosemary potatoes and a red onion, red wine jus and huge-ass Yorkshire puddings. I’ve made this meal quite a few times before, but never in my new apartment.

I bought this beautiful 2 1/2 lb. organical eye of round (not round eye, which probably would taste dry and bland). The color was this amazing bright pink.

I had a digital thermometer and all. I took it out of the oven when it hit 135 F. After letting it rest and making my Yorkshire puddings and pan gravy, Matt cut into the roast to reveal, gulp, well-done! We figured it was a combination of me covering it with too much with tinfoil while resting on the granite countertop. But from medium rare to well done? That’s craziness. At least it was the best well-done roast beef I’ve ever had (I think due to the organicalness).

I’m still all (meaning floating frowny head with no body) especially since I was having company over and wanted to impress them. And it doesn’t help that I’m working in a fine restaurant and should be able to cook a god damn roast beef to somewhat near desired doneness.

So now I know not to let foods rest on granite. I should go buy a janky cooling rack. And I’m never letting meat rest under tinfoil again. Lesson learned.

Wednesday night’s Stone Park Cafe / Six Point Brewery dinner.

Short post about it because I was in a rush and forgot my camera. They had a couple of Six Point brew masters there. Not only was the theme beer pairing, but it was also smoke. Cold smoked creme fraiche potato salad. Alder smoked black cod. And smoked choco ice cream! (Which I think may be a novelty, but it was fun to try nonetheless.)

The beers were well paired (you got about eight ounces of beers per course), except for the wheat beer with the amuse of Vietnamese spare ribs. Matt said they should have served something with more carbonation to cleanse your palate of the grease. The brewmaster said he paired it because the wheat beer has a hint of pineapple at the finish and he thought it might have worked well with the Asian style of the mini ribs.

The almost barely visible sprinkle of Maldon sea salt on the sirloin means told me that I was in a fine dining establishment. Fine dining seasoning! (Which is a phrase I’m going to use anytime I put salt on anything. Thanks, Michele!)

They did something cute and brought out teeny servings of hops, malt and barley between courses for you to sniff and taste. The malt and barley would make for awesome granola. The hops were inedible, but look like green rabbit pellets and smelled faintly like weed.

I got the itis halfway through the meal.

Service was poor for the first part of the meal, but I think they were slammed. Apparently they were supposed to know someone from The Restaurant was coming in, but I didn’t get to meet the chef. It’s okay though, I wasn’t in the mood for schmoozing because of said itis.

This was delicious and fun and I’d definitely do it again. I think $55 pp for six courses and booze is pretty fair.

I get really psyched when I hear about a beer pairing dinner. They are pretty rare and harder to pull of than wine pairing (due to beer losing carbination once opened). It’s a nice, freshing alternative to wine pairing. Especially for this kind of weather.

Stone Park Cafe in Park Slope is having a Six Points Brewery beer pairing dinner this Wednesday. $55 prix fixe, six courses. Reservations required. 718-369-0082. Peep the menu.

Lately, brunch has been a big bummer. Don’t get me wrong, I believe it should be one of the most revered meals of the week. You can choose breakfast food, lunch food, or something in between, plus, drinking is actually encouraged. It is more or less a perfect meal.

But lately, restaurants have had a massive amount of suck-age when it comes to this fantastic meal. If waiting 45 minutes for a meal with a blinding hangover headache doesn’t deter you, the fact that once seated, you’ll be given the check before you’re half way through you meal might. I thought at first it was just the trendy neighborhood I live in, where the combination of youth, drinking and disposable incomes translated into long lines and rushed service. Even with a rather large variety of restaurants to choose from, it was a mostly unpleasant experience. Recent forays into the city and and other parts of Brooklyn have unfortunately let me to believe that this is a prevalent phenomenon.

Once you finally get a seat, coffee, and alcoholic beverage of choice, looking at the brunch menu has become a little disappointing as well. It seems like most places are catering to the lower common taste denominator. Biscuits and gravy are good, but should they be so ubiquitous that even the Mexican joint serves them at brunch? And I’m a big fan of eggs Benedict, and admire creativity with the choice of “toppings” served with a poached egg, but how come this often translates into stinginess. Last Sunday I tried a French place in Carroll Gardens, and I won’t go into details, but calling what I had “eggs Benedict” was certainly a misnomer.

A few months ago, I started getting wise. Most brunch items are easy to make at home, and you can linger over your meal, without having someone hovering over you waiting to collect the check. Here are some tips to enjoy a brunch at home.

DRINKS: Of course, bloody Mary’s are the way to go, and most people are really partial to their favorite preparation, so I won’t go into how I prefer mine. Mimosa are also easy to make, as are Screwdrivers. But if you want to switch it up a bit, here are some ideas to try:

• White Port and Seltzer
• Lillet, Seltzer and a splash of Citron
• Faux Sangria, red wine and oj
• White wine, seltzer and a splash of pom juice

THE OVEN: Use the oven, the rule of thumb should be, the more people you serve, the more you should use your oven. Tray pans of potatoes (chunks tossed in spices and roasted are easy and delicious), bacon, sausage evenly cook decent amounts for a crowd. Eggs cooked in toast (or a large hollowed out foccocia), Swedish oven pancakes and french toast “casserole” are other ways that keep you from having to do made-to-order of these brunch staples.

LUNCH ITEMS: I usually like to make at least one lunch salad, sometimes two. A nice green salad with lots of herbs (parsley, mint, tarragon) cut into it. Cantaloupe with green onions, rice vinegar and slivered pepperoni. Non-mayonnaise macaroni salad works too.

The more options the merrier. And the best part about it is that you get to spend quality time with the people you’re brunching with, truly worth the effort.

Peter Meehan from the New York Times has a big food boner for Fette Sau. I liked it more than my friends, but granted, I don’t know BBQ as well as they do. Meehan recommends the ribs, so maybe he knows even less about BBQ than I do.

On Monday night, Matt, two friends of his and myself went to Fette Sau - the new BBQ joint in Williamsburg. The owners also own the expensive, yet awesome craft beer bar Spuyten Duyvil, which is conveniently located across the street.

I really really liked the interior and usually I don’t give a crap about that kind of stuff.

To order, you wait on line and order deli style - there’s a chalk board of their offerings. They also have a deli counter so you can see the meats. The workers dress in butcher whites and wrap up your to-go orders in parchment paper. Unfortunately, they often run out of things and don’t make note of it on the board. So I waited on line for ten minutes only to find out that they didn’t have any pig tails ($2.50 each) that day.

The four of us shared 1/2 lb of each bacon belly and brisket and 1/2 a rack of ribs. Large potato salad (simple, just skinless potatoes, oil, butter, salt and pepper), large broccoli salad (a little overcooked), half order of pickles and four potato rolls (these were obviously not made on premises). Cuts of meat are priced by the pound, ranging from about $10-$17 per pound.

The bacon and the brisket were awesome - beautiful color, beautiful char. They were both extremely tender, with the perfect amount of fattiness. A telltale sign of quality is that excess fat wasn’t greasy - it melted in your mouth. This is what meat is supposed to be. The ribs were really dry, but it was almost forgivable because they tasted smokier than I thought food was able to taste. The fact that they had Guss’ New Pickles won me over ($2.50 for three whole pickles). The photo above was taken when we were halfway done. I got so wrapped up in the deliciousness, I forgot to photograph our food before we dug in.

For drinks, you have to go to the bar. They carry dozens of bourbons and ten kinds of microbrews available in 1/2 pint, pint, quart, 1/2 gallon and gallon. Yes, you can get a gallon of beer. Bonus points for serving beer in olde tyme drinkin’ jars. Also, can you somewhat see in the photo below that all the pulls on the taps are of BBQ implements (meat slicers, a cleaver, a tenderizer).

It was quite busy for a Monday night and it seemed to be mostly young locals. I’m assuming they get slammed on the weekends by Manhattanites because Fette Sau’s opening has been announced in all the Manhattan mags and blogs. And I like this place better than the famous Manhattan BBQ joint, RUB.

Outdoor seating in the front.

$45 fed the four us well, without obtaining a case of the itis. My pint of cider was $4.

Not suitable for vegetarians.

ChewFood Rating: Nine thumbs up. Or an A. That means that if you asked me if I wanted to go there tonight, I’d be all like, “Um. Fuck, yeah!”

Here is a tale of a veritable food orgy. Which is actually my second food orgy this month. The first being The Miracle Fruit Party at Franz’s, which he will recount for you because he’s a much more hilarious writer than I am. Plus his camera has the photos I took of the event. But he’s lazy, so it’ll take him awhile. And he’s also my boss, so I can’t yell at him.

Last night, I got to tag along one of Matt’s company outings - a feast at Congee Village (the Bowery location). I was planning on making The Barefoot Contessa’s Chicken with Forty Cloves of Garlic recipe, but I couldn’t pass up a free meal. Especially a free Asian meal. Especially a free Asian meal that involved weird shit.

Continue reading…

After trailing at restaurant only twice, I had quickly come to realize the importance of knowing Spanish. Because, as you probably already know, almost all restaurants employ a high number of Spanish speaking immigrants to do the grunt work. And if you want them to do something for you, they will more likely get it done if you ask for it in their language. And those guys can get shit done. Only if they can understand what your gringo ass is saying, though. Unfortunately, I don’t know any Spanish. I took a few years in high school and what I knew was pushed out by being forced to take Italian in college and then attempting to relearn French recently. Pretty much what I remember is “no habla Español”, “gracias”, “chulo”, “pinga”, “burracho” and “Sabado Gigante”. Pretty much useless in a kitchen. Well, useless for now, anyway - some of those words may come in handy one day.

I want to learn French cooking. I know that a very large portion of New York’s high end restaurants are run by French executive chefs. And almost all culinary terms are French. So I was recently thinking that taking an intensive French class might be a smart move. Now I think I’m gonna scrap that idea and instead go download some Spanish lessons off of the information superhighway.