Today at Smorgasburg - April 21, 2012

Asian-Inspired tacos (the crispy-shelled spicy tuna was my favorite; also pictured: short rib) and peach tea from Takumi Taco.




Porchetta sandwich and intriguing Skytown flatbread with feta and spinach pesto. Mint lemonade also from Skytown.




Laughter and Lemon ice cream sandwich (holy cow, good!  Salty lemon cookies!) from The Good Batch. I'll be back, The Good Batch. Overheard in the line: "Is this ice cream sandwich going to be worth $6?" My answer: yes, and it's a competitive price, though I'd rather it be $4.

Also eaten: New York Naturals kale chips with vegan cheese. They were great. And I do NOT generally approve of vegan cheese. Thanks go to Nick's mom for sharing them with me. The baby liked them, too.

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Routines are important...

...and so I have instituted summer "BLT Mondays."

Feel free to join me.

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I'd forgotten about this guy.

I suddenly recalled a childhood staple I hadn't eaten in years -- the grilled peanut butter and honey sandwich. Oh, how I loved them.

So I made one after work on Friday, as a nod to "after school snacks" of yore.

It's just as good as I remembered, even with more "grown up" whole wheat bread and raw honey. I want another and another and another...

Phone Photo Flashbacks

I found a couple dozen photos on Dan's phone that I didn't realize/remember existed. Their discovery comes with some lovely food memories of the recent past.



Hey! Remember that awesome bánh mì we ate in Chinatown with Kate and Luke and Melissa near the bike polo and soccer fields? I think those are shrimp chips to the right of the sandwich.




(photo by Dan)

Ooh! And remember the pretzels I made for H's first birthday?



(photo by Dan)

And how she wouldn't eat the blueberries, but really enjoyed squishing them with her fingers? And spilling them?



(photo by Dan)

Those were some good pretzels. I should make more.

On the Drawing Board

While in St. Paul, MN, we grilled food outside with Anna and Jonas. Anna had envisioned creating an eggplant sandwich consisting of layers of grilled eggplant slices with Boursin cheese, farm-fresh tomato, and basil in between.




We gave it a shot, and it was a beautiful thing. However, it wasn't quite perfect. The giant hamburger buns overpowered the flavors a little, and the sandwich needed a little crunch. I suspect some raw or lightly grilled onion would have been lovely there. The potato chips I stuffed in mine were a poor substitute, but the best I could come up with on the fly.

We also learned that the thinnest slices of eggplant tore when the cheese was applied. To counteract this, I did not use as many tomato slices as I could have, fearing they would "mush-ify" the whole pile.

Condiments would be another level of sandwich-finishing I would explore when making these again. We only had mustard on hand that night. In the future, I would try a flavorful mayo or perhaps a hot sauce.

Experiments are delicious, don't you think? I want to get this one right. A gorgeous sandwich deserves to be breathtakingly tasty.

Just brush off the sand.

Bread, cheese, and salami is a good lunch on the trail. Cheese is tasty on day one, okay on day two, and expendable beyond that (unless temperatures are quite cold).



If you found your knife on the ground and all the blades are stuck shut, you might want to go for pre-sliced cheese and salami.

Second Time's the Charm.

[With apologies to composer Alan Menken and writer Howard Ashman (Little Shop of Horrors).]

Drink up your milk,
Wash off your mayonnaise,
Here, take my napkin,
Wipe that chili away.
Floss out your teeth --
Free from their corning.
I know things were bad
But now they're okay.

Finally catfish
Is sitting before you.
They didn't make pulled pork
For you by mistake.
Finally catfish
Is here to provide you
Peppercorn flavor,
Cucumbers, and...


No sandwich ever
Small enough for me,
Always had too much
Bread on the roll
I'd get a bun and
I'd eat it all blindly.
Fat in my fingers,
Still I'd say "sure."

Finally catfish
From Numpang surprised me.
It was the right order;
It wasn't the pork.
Finally catfish
Is here to provide me
Sweet soy sauce flavor.
Catfish -- my friend.


Tell me this sandwich lasts till forever;
Tell me the bad ones are clean washed away.

Please understand that some might
Find it too small.
With appetites these days
It's so hard to say.

Finally catfish!

Finally catfish!
A sandwich that's for me.
A sandwich that's for you.


Finally Numpang showed me it can...

Finally Numpang showed you it can...

(Yes it can!)

Fill the right order,
The one that's inside me (you)
With sweet peppered catfish...

Numpang's your friend.

[etc. ad nauseum -- except for the nausea part.]

There's a best time for everything.

Not only was I was inducted into the office's Chick-fil-A club on Friday with an inaugural trip to its NYC location, but it was actually my first Chick-fil-A experience ever in my life.

I had delicious waffle fries (as advised by KRF) and the BEST chicken sandwich (fast food or restaurant) I have ever had in my entire life (despite its simplicity). I also tried one of Dave's chicken nuggets, which are made from the same moist, amazing, flavorful fried chicken. I am afraid to say too much about how good the chicken was, for fear I will dilute the experience with overabundance of description.

But I do want to climb a mountain, spin around like Maria in The Sound of Music with a C-f-A sandwich in each hand, and then eat them.

Spring is Sprung?

I am sure that we're still in for another round or two of cold weather before Spring really takes hold of the city, but I took advantage of this weekend's beautiful, mild weather to stroll my neighborhood with friends.

On our way back from the park, I stopped at Caffe Capri for "NYC's Best Iced Coffee!" It is, indeed, delicious (and I don't even particularly like coffee unless a non-literal ton of sugar and milk is involved). A small is $2.50, which seems reasonable, and Caffe Capri smells like a really nice grandma's house. A woman who might be someone's really nice grandma works behind the counter, alongside a man I suspect is her husband (and someone's really nice grandpa?). They've got a good thing going on.

Further down Graham Avenue, I bought the last chocolate whoopie pie on display at Variety Cafe. It was much nicer than the whoopie pies that are sold at Whole Foods. The outsides tasted like good chocolate cake (but were firmer). The frosting layer in the middle was not greasy, heavy, nor too sweet.

Also, good news! Ralph's (which has been closed all winter) is open for business!

A belated Poetry Tuesday comes on Saturday.

Vietn is over halfway to Vietnam

Mirrored walls reflect our hands, these crumbs,
a camera, our waiting poses at Baoguette,
this paper towel left on flashing silver counter space. I find
- my face perhaps presciently drawn - a paper towel drawn upon
by a girl I've never seen. Or have seen now.
Her hands reflected, too. Did her hands just now
prepare my iced coffee, inexpertly melting the plastic cup
with the heat of fresh-dripped brew poured too hot
over sweetened condensed milk?

Did she step, abandoning youth
and napkin drawings, taking only the knit hat she wears
(wearing being the most effortless sort of taking),
to the other side of the other counter?
When we entered as customers, blind - and before we existed as such-
did she remain for a moment as artist and fortune teller?







Bright herbs crunch in clumps, fresh bread cradles catfish,
a heat fills me. Mirrored walls shimmer and bend.
I am reflected towards, reflecting on
that country she began to spell under her hat
with the work of her hands. Around me,
unadorned napkins crumple with spicy sauce.
Plastic cups crumple where heat met ice.
Noses drip. Sandwich fillings slide. Have we made a mess of things,
Vietnam? Next to me, Eva's sandwich wrapper passes judgment,
mirroring my reflection.

No ham or turkey for us!

(phone photo by Dan)

For this pastor's (and pastors') kid, Christmas was never really about the food. Or, rather, part of our Advent and Christmas celebration each year was certainly about cookies, bread, sparkling non-alcoholic beverages, and cinnamon rolls, but we don't really do a big Christmas Eve or Christmas Day dinner along the lines of the Thanksgiving-style feasts in which many other families indulge.

This year, with two services to go to and just 30 minutes or so in between, Christmas Eve Dinner was a hastily grabbed and eaten assortment of pizza, cheesesteak, and french fries from Palermo's (4 locations in the Philadelphia suburbs). I didn't try the cheesesteak, but the fries were fresh, crispy, hot, and great. I'm told they're the best. The pizza was also excellent - thin, hot and not at all greasy. The owner was at the Pottstown location when we picked it all up, and he's a friendly, decent guy. I wish it were my local pizza joint.

Are you a good 'wich or a bad 'wich? Which?!

This week I tried a Peanut Butter Cream'Wich sandwich cookie on display at the counter at 'Wichcraft. I was there to get a sandwich*, but sometimes a dessert catches one's eye. And it was quite good. The outside of the cookie was flaky and rich; the filling inside was melting and strongly flavored with peanut butter. Something about the texture and taste reminded me of the Girl Scout peanut butter sandwich cookies I used to enjoy.

It's perhaps a little smaller than a cookie that costs a dollar really should be, but I've made a lot of cookies in my day and tend to think they're overpriced. Given that this cookie lives in generally-overpriced-food territory (NYC), I don't think a dollar is too much to pay if you're giving yourself a peanut butter treat in the middle of a workday. Once or twice a year, maybe.

*About that sandwich:
My favorite sandwich in the Union Square/Astor Place neighborhoods in Manhattan is grilled gruyère & caramelized onions on rye bread at 'Wichcraft. Warm, gooey, and smooth, it's actually the only sandwich I have ever ordered there. I've tried their sides with mixed results. The marinated chickpeas were a little dry. The potato salad needed more flavor. But that sandwich. Ah, that sandwich. It is enchanting.

Our Sandwich

As far as I'm concerned, Dan invented this open-faced beauty. And I became a believer when we ate dozens of them on a day's drive from Colorado to Kansas in my little used Saturn (deceased). They're good at home, in the car, while camping (you may want to swap out mustard for the mayo), while picnicking, at the beach...

The variation pictured here (from last weekend's bocce picnic) is bread, spreadable cheese, Viennese mustard, and Hormel Turkey Pepperoni, but the original version (still classic and my favorite) is a Triscuit, a dab of mayonnaise, a small slice of cheese, and a slice of the turkey pepperoni on top.

What have I done?

I might have fallen under a diabolical spell that forced me to buy a container of "Chipwich Cookies" from WholeFoods. Not since 20-odd years ago, when I occasionally used a knife to sneak a curl of butter from the stick set out on the table before our family's dinner so that I could eat it plain, have I reached such heights of buttery excess. Maybe Paula Deen could produce something more buttery than these dangerous chocolate chip cookie sandwiches, but I have my doubts.

I do enjoy trying new snacks in the "things that carry a pile of frosting smooshed in the middle of two baked-good disks of some sort" category, including (so far) Whoopie Pies and Blondie Whoopie Pies (the former is better), but these Chipwiches were a little insane. I think Jane, who was sitting next to me at work, may even hold a grudge regarding my pressuring her into trying one. Let's just say she didn't finish it, but we did discuss its evil nature at length.

Simply put, they're extravagantly, alarmingly buttery. All signs point to butter. "Butter me up" is not just an expression here. Etc.

First of all, the cookies are so soft our first two chipwiches wouldn't come out of the container in one piece (and though they were not refrigerated in the display at the grocery store, and though it happens to be over 90 degrees F. outside today, I can't completely blame the temperature they were being held at). I did refrigerate the one pictured so that it would be represented in its original state, but whoever made these must have realized how gushy they are. Once retrieved in pieces from the package, the snack continues to fall apart as you hold it in your hand. One can't eat the mess quickly enough to avoid any fallout -- they're that sweet and that soft.

Texture is almost nonexistent, apart from the chocolate chips. Jane wondered if they might just be unbaked dough, the cookies are so soft. And the icing sandwiched between tastes like nearly pure butter with a hint of sugar mixed into it. It started to melt and drip buttery splashes onto everything underneath it almost with my first bite. And there's a lot of it.

Having eaten more than one today (only in the interest of reporting to you via this site, of course), I won't need another for, oh...probably ever. Okay, I can't promise I'll never eat one again (I have a short memory when it comes to the realization that massive amounts of icing can be bad for my health), but I have concluded that I shouldn't. Eat one. Ever. Again. Sandwiched cookies are simply too dangerous a vehicle when their passenger is buttercream frosting. Maybe I'd be safer switching over to "frosting-on-the-top" items next time I'm perusing desserts at WholeFoods.


One last observation from the ever-wise Jane: "maybe these aren't a summer snack."



p.s. I had to eat some savory Nic Nacs to clear my palate before moving on to dinner.