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Windows on India and Oyster Bar

CaB Magazine
January 1994

You Are Where You Eat
Restaurant Reviews

For some time now I have been convinced that there is only one kitchen in Little India. If you’re not familiar with the region of our city, it hangs about on a one block section of East 6th Street stretching between 1st and 2nd Avenues, and trailing off on each of them for a block to the north and south. It shouldn’t be confused with the other Little India up near Gramercy Park. Regardless of which of the couple dozen dens of Indian cuisine we have entered over the years, the menu was nearly unvaried, the plates arrived the same, and the same waiter could often be found in a rival establishment on another venture. We were quite sure that they merely ducked out the back door to a communal kitchen in mid-block and ducked back in to whichever eatery struck their fancy at the moment.

Decor often seems the most differentiating factor, with the gamut run from handwoven rugs, saris and sitars to one upstairs eatery that looks like a warehouse full of Christmas tree decorations exploded across its walls, ceiling, and yes, even floor. Over time, we’ve paid little attention to one enterprise on the corner of 6th and 1st, as it looked more like a chi-chi bistro than a Bengali beanery. However, on a recent, rainy night, we ventured inside this sanctuary of Indian haute cuisine, Windows on India.

We settled in a back corner and began our usual perusal of the menu. To begin with, the selection is much farther ranging than the usual Sixth Street fare. Selections from all over the Indian subcontinent are available, the most interesting, which we haven’t seen elsewhere, are those from the southern tip of India. Even a short list of Indonesian dishes make it onto the back page. The English descriptions of dishes actually make sense, another novelty.

Beginning with a sampling of breads and appetizers was, of course, a must. There are the usual nans, pooris, parathas, papadams and chapatis, with the addition of versions like mint and roasted garlic, but also a tempting whole wheat rooti and a mouthwatering spring onion, clay oven cooked kulcha.

Hot and cold appetizers abound, from basic salads to a spectacular dal papri, a cold salad of potatoes, yogurt and tamarind sauce topped with crunchy diamonds of fried lentil fritters – almost as addictive as goldfish, the cheddar cheese variety, of course. Hot dishes include banana fritters, eggplant fritters and vegetable fritters (somebody in the kitchen must love that word…). Pakoras and tikkas and kebabs vie with lentil donuts and sauteed chicken livers.

A large selection of main courses come from the tandoori, or clay oven. These are always among our favorites, and here they are done to perfection. Not only that, but in addition to the usual chicken, lamb and beef, there are delectable steaks of salmon and swordfish and even marinated shrimp. Vegetarian dishes are not shirked, with a list that will keep even the most jaded grain and bean fiend in your clan happy. Tangy curries, madras, kurmas, kashmiris, bhunas and vindaloos are only the start to lists of chicken, lamb, beef, fish, shrimp and lobster dishes. The Indonesian sampling is heavy on coconut, but a winner nonetheless. And to top it all off, Windows offers a half dozen combination dinners that allow you to sample several dishes at once!

Although we make it a practice to avoid desserts in Asian restaurants, as New York versions are rarely worth saving a trip down to Little Italy, this place goes beyond (though includes) the usual firni, or rose water pudding and ice cream to show off some traditional desserts like fried sweet cheese balls in rose water syrup, rice pudding with fruit and cardamom, and a homemade pistachio and saffron ice cream.

We’ll be back, we’ve been back, and you should give it a try too. It’s worth walking all the way to the end of the block.

Windows on India, 344 East Sixth Street (at First Avenue), 477-5956. Open 7 days a week, lunch and inner. Cash or credit cards. $10-20 for dinner, depending on just how far you want to go.

When I first moved to New York City I began hearing about this place in Grand Central Station. The station itself was worth the trip, back in those days we still had the giant Kodak photo mounted in the main waiting room. It’s a shame that all they could find to replace it with was a parade of musical artistes panhandling with the city’s blessings. Not to knock some of the talent, and the acoustics are great, but I miss the view. Anyway, I used to hear about this “little place” down in the depths of the station called Oyster Bar. It was years before I got around to checking it out, all I could envision was a lunch counter with a bunch of commuters slurping down oysters on the half shell and washing them down with cold beer. Not bad way to head for home, but who wanted to go down in the basement for that?

Happily, I finally got around to checking this place out. Now, it depends where you walk in on Oyster Bar as to what kind of impression it’s going to make. I happened on the saloon entrance first, a dark-wood paneled stairway leading down into a just as dark-wood paneled, well, saloon. A huge L-shaped bar dominates two sides of the room, the tables are covered with red and white checked cloths, there are swinging saloon-style doors on the entrance and the only thing missing is sawdust on the floor. Of course you could enter into the room with the giant lunch counter that reminds me of nothing so much as a floor plan of the Atlanta airport. And indeed, there are folks sucking down mollusks and quaffing ale. Or then there’s the tile bedecked dining room…Need I go on? This place is huge. Oh, I forgot, there’s this long table displaying the desserts of the day laid out to dazzle the eye. It does.

The menu is something of a chore. First, it’s the size of a page from a large tabloid, say, The National Enquirer. Second, while basically the menu itself never changes, what portion of it is actually available does. What I mean to say is, well, and nobody else will tell you this (our first time in we ordered half a dozen things that weren’t available before the waitress explained), the only things available are the things that have prices next to them. And those change daily. Not just which things have prices, but what the prices are. Yup, they just handwrite in the prices of the day next to the catch of the day. And catch of the day is right on target because the menu is fish. This is not a place for steak or fried chicken. Fish. Okay, and shellfish.

Soups are winners here. Unanimous thumbs-up for the New England and Manhattan clam chowders, mixed reviews on the she-crab soup. The cold poached trout with horseradish is a big hit with our entire clan, but even better, the oyster pan roast, my personal favorite. However, the keys to Oyster Bar are the oysters. While not cheap, ranging from one to three dollars apiece, this is the place to sample those raw delicacies from all over the world. It gave us a chance to really begin to appreciate the diversity of flavors and textures that these things come in. My own preferences lean towards those from the cooler waters around Alaska and Washington states, where they grow plump and juicy so slowly that some of them have probably been there since Cornelius Corneliszoon invented the wind-powered sawmill (look it up, he really did).

Fish is generally prepared simply. You select which of the half dozen to dozen species came in that day, the chef fillets it, cooks it, and serves it to you. No fancy, schmancy sauces or phallic towers of gewgaw perched amidst a moat overrun with flotsam and jetsam. Just delicious, simply prepared, fish.

Oh, and for years, this place has had one of the best American white wine lists in New York, if not the country. And to make it even better, they’ve just opened a wine bar – sixty plus samplings by the glass. Can’t beat that with a grapevine.

Finish up with a trip to look at the dessert table. If nothing catches your eye, your stomach, your heart, you’re probably comatose. Get thee to a surgery. When they have it, I love the fig forte. Give it a try. Head for the depths of the station, and please, at least give a smile to the musician plugging away outside the doors.

Oyster Bar, Grand Central Station, 490-6650. Open Monday to Friday only, for lunch and dinner. Cash or credit cards. Lunch $20-25, Dinner $30-40.

CaB magazine was one of the first publications I ever wrote for. Published by my dear friend Andrew Martin, it covered the Cabaret, Theater, Music and Dining scene in New York City, long before slick publications like Time Out NY and Where NY became popular. We had great fun writing it, and some wonderful writers contributed to its pages. When the magazine folded in the mid-90s, Andrew disappeared from the scene, and rumors had it that he departed from this existence not long after. I was thrilled to find out in mid-October 2005, a decade later, that the rumors were just that. Andrew contacted me after finding my site via that omnipresent force, Google. He’s alive and well and a member of a comedy troupe called Meet the Mistake. Somehow quite fitting!

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The Festival of the Green Goddess

Outlet Radio Network
December 2003

The Festival of the Green Goddess

“Why, really Sir, a play requires so much attention,– it is scarce possible to keep awake if one listens; – for, indeed, by the time it is evening, one has been so fatigued with dining, – or wine, – or the house, – or studying, – that it is – it is perfectly an impossibility.” – Evelina, Letter XX

Thankfully for British actor George Arliss, this wasn’t the case when he appeared in the play “The Green Goddess” in San Francisco. In fact, the play was so wildly successful that it was made into a silent film in 1923 and a “talkie” in 1930. In fact Mr. Arliss played the antagonist, the Rajah of Rukh, in all three productions. It was such a popular story, and his performance so brilliant, that he was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actor. He did lose, but to himself, as he was also nominated for Best Actor for his portrayal of Disraeli in the eponymous film!

But back to the 1920-21 theater season, and George Arliss was staying at The Palace Hotel. Someone, and it has been suggested that it was Arliss himself, thought that the hotel should do something in honor of his success. The chef in the hotel’s exquisite kitchen, clearly influenced by suggestions of greenery and the like, created a crab and romaine salad in honor of the consummate actor. Green Goddess dressing was born.

Now, I remember Green Goddess dressing fondly from my childhood. It was the 60’s, and mothers across the country were swept up in the home economics trend. Packaged foods, premixed sauces and dressings were the rage. I have no doubt that the Green Goddess we were offered on many a night with our salad was from Kraft. We were all quite cosmopolitan feeling when we were allowed to choose our own salad topper from an array of bottles.

The basic premise of this culinary delight is a salad with some sort of seafood, and a dressing made of mayonnaise, anchovies, herbs and spices – heavy on the tarragon. Since the original this sauce has been used on other sorts of salads, as an accompaniment to broiled fish, and as a tasty topping for steamed artichokes. It is quite versatile, and much like Caesar dressing, for those of you who think you don’t like anchovies, you’ll never know they’re there.

There is a classic recipe, the one created by our aforementioned chef. There are also more variations on the theme than I care to count. A quick Google search revealed more than 2,400 recipes, no doubt many of them are repeats of each other, but clearly a rather large vat of salad dressing! I looked for some of the more interesting, though admittedly I did not wade through all the entries available. There are even more entries for the green lady when one includes that Green Goddess is also a euphemistic term for the hallucinogenic drink absinthe, some various druidic sorts, and even a character from the original Tarzan series.

I’m always fascinated by the evolution of recipes. Numerous chefs substituted for the classic mayonnaise – cream, cottage cheese, tofu, and buttermilk all made appearances. Fresh herbs versus dried herbs (not surprisingly, the main of these being from the McCormick spice company’s website). To anchovy or not? And if so, whole, chopped, or paste? There was even a recipe that was little more than pureed frozen peas with some herbs and soy sauce tossed in. My one constraint in selecting recipes to try was that they had to include at least some of the three primary flavors – tarragon, garlic and anchovies.

Being the intrepid sort in the kitchen, my plan was to whip up a few of these concoctions, toss in the bottled variety for comparison, and have some friends over for a taste test. It was a raving success, mostly accompanied by the good humor that my acquaintances have in assisting me with these bizarre whims that I shower on them. We even had a contest for who could pick out the original recipe (the first person to get it did it by deductive reasoning – 1920s, no blenders, so eliminated the blender versions; it was a hotel kitchen – had to be the one that tasted most like mayonnaise… he was right!).

We had an immediate setback. Despite scouring the shelves of grocery stores throughout the area, not one bottle of Green Goddess was found. A visit to Kraft’s website yielded no clues as to whether they make it anymore, but was quite scary in the discovery of the number of brands that they own. A morning was spent shopping, blending and mixing, veggies were cut (for dipping), the table was set, and the Open House Festival of the Green Goddess was on!

So, how did the half dozen entries fare?

The very 70s version based on yogurt, fresh herbs, and lime juice was quickly voted the Weakest Link and headed for the drain. We decided it might have made an okay dip for a steamed artichoke, but had little else to offer.

The evaporated milk based recipe had good flavor but was the consistency of, well, milk. It required a spoon to eat it as it ran right off of anything dipped into it. Not quite the Weakest Link, but headed down the tubes right behind the one that was.

Mixed reviews came in for a recipe from the Cook for Good Health cookbook. Some of us liked it, some didn’t – with its base of fat free cottage cheese and pureed cucumber. One thing was clear, it didn’t fit the Green Goddess mold in flavor, and it was relegated to the sidelines.

In third place, the entry from the spice company, McCormick. This was the only entry based on dried herbs and spices, so I was curious to see how it would fare, and it did well. I’m not totally surprised, my McCormick Spice Cookbook is still one of my most used tomes. The flavor of this one was quite good, and ran a very close third place to the second place winner…

…which was the original recipe from The Palace Hotel. Both of these were mixed versions based on mayonnaise and not pureed in the blender. Though it was clear that the original had more subtle flavors than the McCormick version, and the mayo showed through more clearly, most of us liked that. It fit the idea of a crab and romaine salad, stood the test of time, and showed why some recipes are classics.

However, the first place award went to the dressing recipe from the Velvet Turtle restaurant chain. This chain of no frills, no surprises restaurants is, I believe, no longer, but at one time operated in the southern California area. The recipe was the most complex of all the entries, and had some of the most intense flavors. The garlic and anchovy came through loud and clear, the tarragon was barely there, but we liked it, we really liked it!

So, I give you the top three recipes. Have fun with them!

McCormick’s Green Goddess Dressing – Bronze Whisk

Mix together in a bowl:

3 cups mayonnaise
¼ cup white wine vinegar
1 can (2 oz) anchovy fillets, mashed
1 tablespoon dry minced onion
1 tablespoon dry parsley flakes
1 tablespoon dry tarragon leaves
1 tablespoon dry chopped chives
⅛ teaspoon onion powder
⅛ teaspoon garlic powder

Let stand for at least 30 minutes to blend the flavors and soften the dried ingredients (which, of course, McCormick’s specifies as their own brand).

The Palace Hotel’s Green Goddess Dressing – Silver Whisk

Mix together in a bowl:

2 cups mayonnaise
1 mashed garlic clove
4 minced anchovy fillets
1 chopped green onion
2 teaspoons chopped fresh parsley
2 teaspoons chopped fresh chives
1 teaspoon chopped fresh tarragon
1 tablespoon tarragon vinegar

Mix well and let stand to blend flavors. Classically, the garlic clove is just mashed on the inside of the serving bowl, much like a caesar salad – that way the garlic is much more subtle – I just used a smaller clove…

The Velvet Turtle’s Green Goddess Dressing – Gold Whisk

Place in a blender:

2 cups mayonnaise
2 tablespoons anchovy paste
1 cup sour cream
1½ teaspoons seasoned salt (I used Lawry’s because it’s what I grew up on)
3 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
5 garlic cloves
1½ medium onion
1/2 teaspoon dry mustard
1 tablespoon tarragon vinegar
1½ teaspoon celery seed
1½ teaspoon thyme
1½ ripe avocado
1½ teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
a couple drops of green food coloring

Blend until very smooth and let sit for flavors to meld.


I started writing food & wine columns for the Outlet Radio Network, an online radio station in December 2003. They went out of business in June 2005.

December 2003

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Pumpkin Pie Pot Lucks

GENRE
December 1993

Hungry Man
Pumpkin Pie Pot Lucks

Getting Over Overeating and Overworking

There is a stretch of road up ahead. It doesn’t lead to the Emerald City and it’s not paved with yellow brick. It leads elsewhere and is paved with good intentions. You set foot on the roadway. Your head fills with visions of relatives not seen since your last passage popping up like earthworms after a storm. The long road home, the Holiday Highway, get your kicks on Route 666.

This dark and twisting path winds its way from Roast Turkey to Popcorn & Beer, passing through Pumpkin Pie, Baked Ham, Plum Pudding, and Latkes. A fleeting festival opening on Thanksgiving and folding with SuperBowl Sunday. The former being one of the two important proclamations Abraham Lincoln made in 1863; the latter, apparently, some sort of sports event.

Two food traditions permeate the holidays. The first is overeating. By everyone. Repeatedly. All those months at the gym, all that stretching and bending, touching your toes, crunching your abs – gone in a binge the likes of which hasn’t been seen since the Roman Empire. Tradition number two is overwork – usually by mom or grandmom – slaving away like Lincoln never did issue that Emancipation Proclamation.

Pigging out at the groaning board is something you’ll have to work out for yourself. I’ll save dieting for a future column. On the other hand, overwork can be handled by returning to the original traditions of most of these holidays. Everyone who comes to celebrate contributes to the food table. Potluck.

For most of us, potluck conjures up images of social events that our parents dragged us to. Places where the food consisted of cold, greasy chicken, eighteen casserole dishes of everyone’s favorite baked bean and potato salad recipes, and much too much green jello mold with fruit cup. Does it have to be that way? I think not. Even if you know you can’t cook, you know you have friends who can. Get out those invitation cards and get busy.

Whether you’re hosting dinner for Thanksgiving, Christmas, Chanukah, New Year’s, or even Human Rights Day (December 10th for those who aren’t sure), it’s time to put your foot and your whisk down. As host, take on the main course. It’s usually the least transportable. Turkey, a ham, roast chicken, fish, baked cauliflower, a walnut and mushroom roast. Your guests bring everything else. It makes for a communal event, everyone feels, justifiably, like they contributed. You’d be amazed at the wide range of cooking talent displayed.

In the best of all worlds, you’re not always the host. Sometimes someone else gets to clean their apartment, before and after the party. If dinner isn’t at your place, what do you bring? A casserole? Not one of those tuna and noodle things with cream of mushroom soup and potato chip crumbs on top. Maybe a mix of fresh vegetables in a spicy tomato sauce. Or layers of eggplants and squashes with cheese and herbs. Dessert? Pies, cakes, brownies, fruit marinated in liqueur.

One of my favorite dishes can be used as an appetizer, a side dish, or even a main course: Garlic-Mushroom Sauté. It’s simple, tasty, and your friends will be begging for the recipe. Just smile and tell them to subscribe to GENRE. Maybe that path home won’t look so foreboding after all.

GARLIC-MUSHROOM SAUTÉ

2 pounds of “wild” mushrooms (mix several different varieties like portobellos, chanterelles, shiitakes), sliced
4 cloves of garlic, finely chopped
¼ cup of good olive oil
½ cup white wine
¼ cup heavy cream
¼ cup soy sauce
a couple sprigs of thyme (or ½ teaspoon dry thyme)

You will need a large, covered frying pan to hold all the mushrooms. Sauté the chopped garlic and thyme in olive oil until the garlic starts to brown. Add the mushrooms and stir. Add the wine, cover the pan, and turn the heat down to low. Let the mushrooms cook for about five minutes until soft and cooked through. Uncover, turn the heat back up, and add the cream and soy sauce. Stir to coat and let the sauce thicken slightly. If you’re bringing this to a holiday dinner, place in an oven-proof dish and reheat before serving. Makes enough for 4 main-course or 8 appetizer/side dish servings.

In keeping with the custom of quaffing quantities of spirits along with holiday gastronomic delights, I thought I’d offer the most traditional of all holiday libations: the Egg Nog – slightly updated, of course.

EGG NOG

12 eggs
1 pound sugar
1 quart Jamaica Rum
1 pint Peach Brandy
3 pints heavy cream

Separate eggs (yolks from whites, not from each other) and beat yolks with the sugar until frothy. Slowly add cream and then liquors, stirring constantly. Beat the egg whites until stiff and fold half of them into the yolk mixture. Pour in a punch bowl and float the remaining egg whites on top. Try not to imbibe at one sitting!


Genre is a gay “lifestyle” and travel magazine. It was launched in 1992 by three entrepreneurs, two of whom shortly thereafter left to found QSF magazine. I went with them…

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SoHo Kitchen and Bar

CaB Magazine
November-December 1993

You Are Where You Eat
Restaurant Reviews

There are places that we go to where we don’t go for the food. That’s not to say that the food isn’t good, it just isn’t what we’re there for. On those nights when we’re feeling like drinking a bit of wine, we head for the closest wine bar. For us, that happens to be SoHo Kitchen and Bar. Located on Mercer, a couple blocks south of the Angelika Film Center, this cavernous establishment is a must stop for anyone interested in sampling the basics of wine.

The decor is modern bar, and indistinguishable from any of a dozen other places, with two exceptions. A massive hundred bottle dispenser for wines by the glass dominates the center of the space, a polished wooden bar encircling (well, actually, en-ovaling). The other is a huge relief mural just inside the entrance of what appears to be a Spanish village, with matadors, bulls, food, drink, and the like intertwined.

When seated, either at bar or table, we are presented with the standard menu, the specials of the day, the wine list and the beer list, all stuffed neatly into a standard plastic menu cover. The food, for us, is secondary to the wine, but consists of a nicely prepared selection of salads, sandwiches, pastas and simple entrees. We’ve never had anything we didn’t like, but we’ve never shouted “Eureka” either. The pastas tend to be our favorites, my personal one a penne with prosciutto and peas in a light cream sauce.

We turn first, and I suppose last, however, to the wine list. The hundred wines offered are organized into “flights”. That is, they are grouped by either region or grape variety, or some criterion that the owners judged appropriate. Each flight contains anywhere from three to eight wines. You can order any wine by the bottle, or by the standard glass (5 ounces), or by a smaller tasting glass (2½ ounces), or, for those who are serious about their sampling, by flight. For the flight, you get a small amount of each wine (1½ ounces). From our samplings so far, we have yet to have a wine we didn’t enjoy, and each flight has contained at least one outstanding wine.

Examples of flights – a Pinot Grigio (one each from Italy, the U.S. and Alsace); French Chardonnays (7 white wines from Burgundy); and Italian Reds (4 top contenders from all over the country). If you’ll indulge me a moment, and hopefully without intruding too far upon our wine columnist’s arena, I’d like to take you through a sample flight.

One of my favorites has been the French Chardonnay flight I mentioned above. It’s a great way to see the difference that both the style of winemaking and the climate and geology of differing areas make when using the same grape. The seven wines arrive on a placemat with adorable little circles on it. Our waiter places a glass in each of the first seven circles and lets us know that from left to right they follow the flight list.

The first wine is a 1991 Domaine Dampt Chablis, from perhaps obviously, Chablis, in the north of the Burgundy region. The wine tastes of peaches and a buttery flavor, and just a hit of stone (Chablis aficionados look for a “flinty” character in the wine). It is light, refreshing, and a nice start to the flight. The second wine we sample is the 1992 Georges Duboeuf Coupe-Dailly, from Saint-Veran, in the southern Maconnais region of Burgundy. This wine is light, refreshing and tastes of apples, with a “woodsy” character to it. Continuing on, we sample 1991 William Fevre Montmain Chablis Premier Cru – now back to the northern end of Burgundy, and a higher quality Chablis, tasting of the obligatory flint, along with oranges and a touch of nutmeg. We move on to the 1990 Vaudoisey Les Vireuils, from the Meursault region, down at the south end of Burgundy. This wine tastes of pears with hints of hazelnuts and toast.

Moving to the 1989 Domain Chauvo from Chassagne-Montrachet, we find the peach and hazelnut flavors combined, along with an earthy or mushroomy character that is typical of this southern Burgundy area. The 1990 Joseph Drouhin Les Folatieres from the next door Puligny-Montrachet area is our favorite, with an immediate aroma that reminds us of banana-pecan waffles, and then hints of mint and pepper. We end with the 1992 Georges Duboeuf Pouilly-Fuisse, a trifle on the light side with flavors of raspberries and honey and a hint of rose petals.

Okay, now I admit that all the flavors and aromas are purely subjective, that you might taste something totally different, and that you might think that all this wine stuff is too silly for words. Just order a bottle of your favorite whatever and enjoy the atmosphere. Or drop by the table and join us in the fun…

SoHo Kitchen and Bar, 103 Greene Street (between Prince and Spring Streets), 925-1866. Open 7 days a week for lunch and inner. Credit Cards accepted. Figure on your meal running around $10 to $15, plus whatever damage you do in wine…

CaB magazine was one of the first publications I ever wrote for. Published by my dear friend Andrew Martin, it covered the Cabaret, Theater, Music and Dining scene in New York City, long before slick publications like Time Out NY and Where NY became popular. We had great fun writing it, and some wonderful writers contributed to its pages. When the magazine folded in the mid-90s, Andrew disappeared from the scene, and rumors had it that he departed from this existence not long after. I was thrilled to find out in mid-October 2005, a decade later, that the rumors were just that. Andrew contacted me after finding my site via that omnipresent force, Google. He’s alive and well and a member of a comedy troupe called Meet the Mistake. Somehow quite fitting!

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Aussie Dishes

GENRE
October 1993

Hungry Man
Aussie Dishes

Vegemite Sandwiches and Kangaroo Tails for All

GenreThere’s a bistro in the heart of Sydney that serves Pineapple Right-Side-Up Cake. Australians with a sense of humor about themselves? Could be…

In digging my way through to the other side of the world, I suddenly found myself down-under an avalanche of unfamiliar dishes. I decided to pass over the “bush tucker” of the outback with its fruit bats, witjuti grubs, kangaroo tails, honey-ants and blue tongue skinks. A couple hundred years of colonial cuisine did little to alleviate my bewilderment, what with yabbies, Moretan Bay bugs, pie floaters, dog’s eye and dead horse, damper, ANZAC biscuits, lamingtons, tim tams, vegemite, and pluto dogs.

I stayed on the yellow brick road, watched out for the witch, and found myself in “Oz Mod,” the new cuisine of Australia. The climate and isolation of this former penal colony have given rise to a spectacular array of fruits, vegetables, mushrooms, meats and seafood – many species found nowhere else on earth. Settlers from across our spinning orb have spiced the cuisine with everything from thyme and tarragon to star anise and wattle seeds. In a land where lemons grow on trees in the backyard, and papayas, passion fruit, custard apples, and mangoes are available at roadside markets, anything is possible.

On one hand, fish, low fat, and low alcohol are in fashion. On the other hand, Australians are the third-largest consumers of ice cream on the globe, and incredible ingesters of sugar, averaging a whopping 100 pounds of sugar per year, each. The “national” dessert of Australia, Pavlova, is a sugary meringue basket filled with fruit and whipped cream.

Just what is Oz Mod? To answer that I must point out that Australia is big. Nearly three million square miles of land area, almost 1,500 miles north to south by 2,000 miles east to west. Regional tastes can be as different as New England Clam Bkaes, Shrimp Creole, and Chili are in the U.S. My trek through the menus from coast to coast came up with a sampling that ranged from Indonesian-influenced King Prawns in Lime Sauce in southern Adelaide, through Mideast-style Lamb with Dried Fruits in eastern Sydney, to the very French Coral Trout with Beurre Blanc in northern Port Douglas, on to Italian inspired Grilled Kid Chops with Rosemary and Garlic in western Perth, and even south across the water, where a delicate Carpaccio of Tasmanian Salmon with Caviar and Edible Flower Confetti awaited in Hobart.

Since your local market may not carry warrigal greens, bunya nuts, or Balmain bugs, many “authentic” Australian recipes didn’t seem appropriate to share here. So, I picked a little favorite that you can make the next time you want to impress that special someone. Australian wines are in this year, so make your toasts with an outstanding Riesling from the Hunter Valley.

Sautéed Trout with Macadamia Nuts

2 fresh trout, each ½-¾ lb., gutted and scaled (leave the head and tails on)
½ cup chopped macadamia nuts
½ cup flour
1 tablespoon salt
1 teaspoon ground pepper
1 teaspoon grated orange peel
½ lb. fresh spinach
¼ cup safflower or other light oil
chopped parsley and lemon wedges for garnish

Heat a large (big enough to hold the two trout) frying pan over medium heat, add about half the oil and the nuts and sauté until just starting to color. Remove the nuts and set aside on paper towel to drain.

Mix the flour, salt, pepper, and orange peel in a plastic bag, put in fish and shake to coat thoroughly (one at a time). Add remaining oil to the pan, sauté the fish 5-6 minutes on each side until the skin is browned and when you look at the inside, the fish should be cooked through. Remove the fish and drain the oil out of the pan.

Quickly toss the spinach in the hot pan until just wilted. Mix in half the nuts, spread out on two plates. Lay whole fish on top of spinach bed. Top with the remaining nuts, chopped parsley and a couple of lemon wedges. Serves two. (Oh, if you just can’t deal with a whole fish, use fillets, and only cook for 2-3 minutes on each side.)

Special thanks for some of my Australian menu research to Kit Snedaker, Harry O’Neil, and Christine Cook.


Genre is a gay “lifestyle” and travel magazine. It was launched in 1992 by three entrepreneurs, two of whom shortly thereafter left to found QSF magazine. I went with them…

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Sydneyside for Sustenance

Asia Pacific Travel Magazine
Fall 1993

Sydneyside for Sustenance

(Note: This article was accepted for publication, edited, laid-out, and then the magazine folded before printing… this is the edited version)

Swooping in over the South Pacific, I got my first good look at the Emerald City of Oz, Sydney. I knew I was in for high-rise office buildings and a lot of water, but I hadn’t predicted the bushland and white sand beaches. I always thought those were somewhere else in Australia. I’d also figured on a bunch of folk with Paul Hogan accents running around saying “G’day mate” and “Throw another shrimp on the bar-b.” I hadn’t figured on three and a half million people from every ethnic background on the planet, with accents to match, uttering those very words.

As a chef, my main goal in wandering through Sydney was the search for good food. I was unprepared for notable success, as Australia was rumored to be a country where, according to a local chef, the typical citizen is likely to be happy consuming “bangers and mash” three meals a day, every day. I’d heard that the traditional British based cuisine is so entrenched that the onslaught of Asian, North and South American, African, and other European cuisines don’t stand a chance.

Luckily, I found that with the help of some dedicated chefs and foodies, change has been in the air for the last decade or so. I’d like to say I had a chance to survey all the best that Sydney has to offer, but I didn’t even make it halfway through my list by the end of a month. Of course, the list kept growing as restaurateurs enthusiastically recommended each other’s cooking. These energetic and talented masters of pan and whisk put together some meals that made up for the endless hours I’d spent in the air enroute to dinner.

The Restaurant Manfredi

My local host insisted on taking me out to this romantic Ozzie-Italian brasserie hidden away in a back alley high above Darling Harbour. Stephanie Alexander, one of Australia’s most noted food writers had also recommended the place. Chef Stefano Manfredi came out to say hello and offered to whip up a special dinner for us. He and his family have been whipping up what may be the best Italian style food in the South Seas for almost eight years.

On his recommendation, our waiter opened a bottle of 1986 Plantagenet Cabernet Sauvignon that was rich with plum, cinnamon, and toasted oak flavors. We started our repast with a basket of fresh bread dipped in a glassy pool of olive oil and then moved on to opening courses of succulent seared Queensland scallops on a cradle of linguini and sun-dried tomatoes tossed with garlicky olive oil and, a local favorite, delicious yabbies (local crayfish) served with incredibly light spinach gnocchi in a pool of browned butter.

Next, we had savory grilled kingfish steaks perched atop sauted Chinese greens and accompanied by olive puree and a basil, parsley, garlic and olive oil salsa verde. This was followed by a plate of tender baby Illabo lambchops roasted with new potatoes and rosemary. Even better, a platter of roast pigeon with accompanying figs was stunning.

We finished off this culinary tour de force with a huge platter arrayed with outstanding baklava, an incredible pistachio mousse and slices of a delicious macadamia log, with side scoops of delicious pumpkin ice cream and tangy fruit sorbet. A striking presentation, especially with the scattering of caramelized figs and fresh berries.

The Restaurant, 88 Hackett Street, Ultimo, 281-2808. Dinner $60-70 (US$40-45).

The Bathers Pavilion

We met up one evening with a couple of friends down at the Balmoral Esplanade. Picture an attractive sandy beach and cove, the last rays of sun glittering off the rippling water, and a bather’s pavilion converted to a first class dining room situated squarely on the beach. The atmosphere inside is relaxed, and patrons sometimes climb through the windows from the beach, though we chose to enter by the door. Chef Genevieve Harris was not present on our visit. However, her second, Greg Smith, took exquisite care of us. On top of that, the restaurant’s sommelier, made recommendations perfect for every course.

He started us off with a bottle of 1990 Howard Park Riesling, with flavors of peaches and lime. Meanwhile the chef whipped up cold and hot appetizer platters. A salmon tartare, lightly dressed and served on toast was delightful, as were the timbale of roasted eggplant filled with goat cheese and the delicious tea-smoked river trout with caramelized onions, lovage and feta cheese. The hot selections provided us with two superb dishes, Yamba king prawns with “rag” pasta, tomatoes and olives and Western Australian sea scallops with sauted pine mushrooms on a parsnip rosti.

A bottle of 1990 Stafford Ridge Chardonnay, with a toasted vanilla bouquet and a hint of anise was served with the fish. A perfect match for savory John Dory filets, crusted lightly with pepper and served on top of crisp green beans and a mound of babaganoush and delectable Victorian salmon filets surrounded by charred peppers, crispy prosciutto and caramelized figs. The kitchen then served up platters piled high with slices of lamb and field mushrooms with a smooth puree of garlicky potatoes and a wonderful roast breast of guinea fowl nesting in spinach, garlic and almonds, while we sipped on a 1987 Mount Mary Cabernet Sauvignon, with its tart cherry and peppery air.

A fresh raspberry and clotted cream tart left my companions unimpressed, but I’ve always liked simple desserts. The chocolate and hazelnut semifreddo gave us our chocolate fix without going to excess. Cinnamon baklava with custard filling and a nectarine, roasted almond and candied orange rind salad was superb. The crowning selection, however, was coconut lace wafers with slices of fresh mango, whipped mascarpone cheese and a scoop of mango sorbet. And they didn’t miss with a small bottle of the delicious 1988 Petaluma Botrytis Riesling, an elixir of apricot and spice flavors.

The Bathers Pavilion, The Esplanade, Balmoral, 968-1133. Dinner $65-70 (US$45-50).

Rockpool

I’d already toured The Rocks, Sydney’s revamped and very touristy wharf area, and hadn’t been overly impressed. But, on recommendation, I decided to try this art deco establishment, serving up top-flight “new Australian” cuisine. Besides, Chef Neal Perry’s reputation as a master of fusing local flavors with touches of the Middle East and Asia couldn’t be ignored. None of my local friends were available, so I ventured out on my own.

A generous scoop of Sevruga caviar gracing a fresh Sydney Harbour oyster with a light squirt of lemon began an impressive evening. A small bottle of 1992 Grosset Polish Hill Riesling with lemon and grassy overtones was a nice match for a delicious dish of beautifully plated slices of steamed crayfish on a bed of braised leeks and lamb’s lettuce and a sauce of olive oil, golden raisins, toasted pinenuts and strips of dried mango. This was followed by delightful sea scallops, seared and served with hummus and fava beans, all drizzled with a garlicky olive oil. Although an interesting idea, the Spanner crab and bean sprout omelette floating in fish broth went limp on plate and palate.

The 1991 Pipers Brook Chardonnay was rich and buttery, with toasted oak and a hint of crisp apples. Rockpool is a place for fish, and the main course of herb encrusted salmon filet, pan-blackened and served with a red pepper sauce and savory roasted Szechuan eggplant was absolutely incredible.

Chef Perry’s signature dessert, a date tart filled with plump California dates baked in a custardy pastry cream just about did me in, until, sighing with contentment, he presented a second offering of caramelized nectarines layered with crisp waffles amidst a pool of caramel and vanilla bean sauce, with a scoop of nectarine ice cream at the side. I found room for more.

Rockpool, 109 George Street, The Rocks, 252-1888. Dinner $75-80 (US$50-55).

Riberries

It was, of course, necessary that we sample “native” cuisine in some fashion. Sydney is not currently host to an eatery that serves up first class witjuti grubs or grilled fruit bats, but it does have this bistro that specializes in using native Australian bush foods as ingredients in a dining experience not to be missed. Chef Jean-Paul Bruneteau greeted us as we sat down to the evening’s prix fixe selections. Riberries is a BYO kind of place, so we picked up a 1991 Wyndham Estate Pinot Noir at the bottle shop down the block.

It is admittedly not every day we get to sample a tasty emu liver paté, or a followup treat of smoked emu. Plates of chargrilled eggplant and zucchini rolled around roasted peppers with bush tomato relish and black olives were passed around to sighs of contentment. We sampled the main courses of delicious panfried Tasmanian Trumpeter fish with garlic potatoes, and a rack of lamb with native mint that was perfectly cooked and perfectly delectable.

Riberries themselves are used with abandon in the desserts. Tasting something like cloves, they made a mouth-watering match for the Chocolate Struth with Tasmanian cream and macadamia nut praline and the Caramel Cheesecake with homemade ice cream.

Riberries, 411 Bourke Street, Darlinghurst, 361-4929. Dinner $35-40 (US$25-30).

Angkor Wat

I’ve tried a lot of different Asian cuisines as I’ve travelled and tasted my way around, but Cambodian food had yet to pass my palate for review. In the course of our wanderings one day, we passed this tiny local establishment proudly announcing “Traditional Cambodian Cuisine From The Khmer Temple Palace.” With billing like that, who could pass it up?

Our appetizer selection ranged through a variety of dishes that appeared vaguely reminiscent of Thai, Vietnamese and Indonesian. We settled on Baksey Trong Ker, a roasted quail stuffed with minced pork, lily flowers, peanuts and vermicelli accompanied by a lime juice and spice dipping sauce, and Moan Slekteuy, chicken marinated with herbs and spices and steamed in bamboo leaves. Both were absolutely delicious and didn’t really remind us of Thai, Vietnamese or Indonesian cooking after all.

We followed with main courses of chicken stir-fried with lemongrass, onion, straw mushrooms and spices and a melange of prawns, mussels, scallops with their roe, and squid in a flaming brandy, cream, lemongrass and chili broth. Simply, outstanding.

Angkor Wat, 227 Oxford Street, Darlinghurst, 360-5500. Dinner $20-30 (US$15-20).

Darley Street Thai

I had heard stories and read articles about Sydney’s “Thai kitchen god,” David Thompson. So it seemed a necessity to make a trip to the depths of Newtown to sample his cuisine. (Since that time he’s moved his exceptional establishment to downtown Kings Cross, but I doubt his culinary prowess has suffered.) Thai cuisine is ubiquitous throughout Sydney, but his is reputed to be the best.

We settled in with a couple of Thai beers, and set out to sample from the remarkable selection of appetizers. One of my favorite Thai dishes has always been Laap Gai, or spicy chicken in lime, chilies and toasted rice, and it was no exception here. Crab Miang Mae Prow, a union of fresh crab meat, curry paste, kaffir lime leaves and roasted coconut wrapped in fresh betel leaves made our mouths water for more.

For main courses we sampled an unusual pineapple curry of those famed yabbies, which was deliciously sweet, if a bit messy. We also savored the flavors of the superb sea scallops in coconut milk and ginger.

Thai restaurants are not famous for desserts, at least in the U.S., but are worth saving room for here. We tried the bananas and white sticky rice grilled in banana leaves which was tasty, but the sumptuous golden syrup pudding with coconut cream was the clear winner of the evening.

Darley Street Thai, 28 Bayswater Road, Kings Cross, 358-6530. Dinner $40-45 (US$30-35).

Flavour of India

My host insisted that this establishment serves up the finest in Indian fare in Sydney. Although I didn’t sample the victuals from any other kitchens, I have to admit that this place serves up some great food.

We started off with Bhel Puri, a winning combination of potatoes with tomato, tamarind and coriander and a selection of spicy chutneys. We quickly followed up with Kankra Thal, a superb composition of crab, ginger, chili and onions mounded in potato skins, and a plate of Sabzi Patis, panfried vegetable patties coated with chickpea flour topped with almond sauce and beets.

The main courses menu included all the standards from curries to kormas, but our waitress recommended the Lamb Saag, a spicy hot blend of creamed spinach and sauted lamb and the Chicken Butter Masala, fillets of chicken breast broiled in the tandoor oven and served with a creamy butter sauce. Both were good, but I must admit, the appetizers were the winners here, especially accompanied by freshly baked pappadams and nan breads, and bowls of Raita, Dahl, Lime Pickles, and a spiced onion and tomato salad.

Flavour of India, 142 Glebe Point Road, Glebe, 692-0662. Dinner $20-25 (US$15-20).

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Beatrice Inn and 103

CaB Magazine
September 1993

You Are Where You Eat
Restaurant Reviews

I received a call the other day from our very own Count James de Szigethy, letting me know about this incredible Italian, nay, Ligurian inn ensconced in the West Village. A quick look at the wall map found Liguria located up in the north of Italy, home to the city of Genoa. A “must try” he said. Who am I to argue with a Count? A quick call to owner Elsie Cardia and our trip to Beatrice Inn was set in Italian marble.

Our trio arrived a few nights later. We wended our way down the flower-banked steps from the sidewalk to enter the comfortably elegant dining room billing itself as a stronghold of the Bohemian Greenwich Village mystique. Well spaced, lightly starched, white-clothed tables in a casual brick-walled, wine bottle embellished dining room beckoned us to sit. The inn has drawn many a famed face, from Sinclair Lewis, Dorothy Parker and F. Scott Fitzgerald to Woody and Mia – a scene from Another Woman was even shot in the dining room.

We started our repast with a decent-sized cold antipasto platter laden with olives, roasted peppers, anchovies, prosciutto and other northern Italian delicacies, while we contemplated the menu. As Ms. Cardia’s suggestion, she took over the selection process and, after a suitable wait, presented us with a sampling of her favorite pastas. I must admit, the pesto sauce was good, though not a cut above the average. On the other hand, her putanesca sauce, brimming with anchovies and olives, was out of this world, and to top it off, her intensely savory tomato vodka sauce with fresh peas, ladled over perfectly cooked penne, may just be the best I’ve ever had.

We progressed on to a triad of plates loaded with delightfully tangy veal piccata, melt-in-your-mouth Chicken Francaise, and the Beatrice’s own specialty, Seafood Beatrice, a cornucopia of clams, mussels, octopus and fish in a rich, piquant tomato sauce. A bottle of 1986 Ruffino Chianti Classico, rich with the essences of berries and just a hint of fresh tobacco, was the perfect accompaniment to this profusion of flavors. Sighing with contentment, for dessert we chose to split a house specialty. We were rewarded with an absolutely delicious tiramisu – initially nibbling, and finally devouring each crumb of coffee-chocolate creaminess.

Needless to say, there turned out to be no reason to argue with our Count, and we seconded his “must try” opinion.

Beatrice Inn, 285 West 12th Street (8th Avenue), 929-6165. Open Monday through Saturday for lunch and dinner. Reservations recommended. All major credit cards accepted. Dinner $25-35.

It was a brunch Sunday. Not all Sundays are brunch Sundays of course. Some of them are reserved for toast and coffee over a paper and heavy repasts in mid-afternoon. Others are spent at beaches, parks, museums or theaters. But this one was definitely a brunch Sunday. We promptly headed for one of our favorite brunch spots, 103. Depending on whom you talk to, this place is also known as Jerry’s 103 and 103 Second – we’ve opted for brevity.

If I were going to design a restaurant, I think this is the one I’d design. Expansive windows look out onto Second Avenue and East 6th Street. We sit in the simple white, black and grey decor, surrounded by formica tables and banquettes, each with a simple flower display. A cute mural spans the wall next to the well-designed and even better stocked bar. Cute waiters with tight T-shirts and just a modicum of attitude (though, watch out at night when energy and attitude levels get raised) drop by for a bit of a chat and offer coffee. We worked our way down through the list of cappucinos, cafe-au-laits, and espressos, and settled on one of each, combined and administered intravenously. Our waiter smiles with understanding, but demurs, and fetches a cappucino and a cafe-au-lait.

Brunch is an a la carte affair. The menu begins with juices and other appropriate mid-day drinks containing champagne and vitamin C. We sample the fresh squeezed orange juice and move on to our main selections. Delightfully crispy waffles topped with pecans and warm syrup adorn one plate, poached eggs on a bed of fresh ratatouille another. When one of us is in the mood for more lunch-ish fare, the 103 Club, piled high with a selection of proper club sandwich delicacies is a favorite choice. Specials are always available, usually an omelette of the day, sometimes a pasta. My own preference is the Eggs Benedict, with zesty jalapeno mayo and thick slices of fresh tomato.

If you still have room, and we try to make sure we do, the dessert special of the day is always a good choice. On this recent venture a mouth-watering warm blackberry and peach deep dish pie arrived, with vanilla ice cream melting slowly down the sides. For those who want something a little lighter, the sorbet plate is always an enjoyable choice. Drop in on this place on your next brunch Sunday and drop over to the table and say hi.

103, 103 Second Avenue (at 6th Street), 777-4120. Open for lunch, brunch and dinner seven days a week. Visa, Mastercard, American Express accepted. Brunch, $10-20.

CaB magazine was one of the first publications I ever wrote for. Published by my dear friend Andrew Martin, it covered the Cabaret, Theater, Music and Dining scene in New York City, long before slick publications like Time Out NY and Where NY became popular. We had great fun writing it, and some wonderful writers contributed to its pages. When the magazine folded in the mid-90s, Andrew disappeared from the scene, and rumors had it that he departed from this existence not long after. I was thrilled to find out in mid-October 2005, a decade later, that the rumors were just that. Andrew contacted me after finding my site via that omnipresent force, Google. He’s alive and well and a member of a comedy troupe called Meet the Mistake. Somehow quite fitting!

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Tea, Crumpets and Queens!

GENRE
August 1993

Hungry Man
Tea, Crumpets and Queens!

Despite the bad rap English food takes, here’s a mouth-watering surprise.

Genre“Pint of best bitter and kidney pie,” Christopher recites again for me. “It’s a safe bet for ordering in an English pub. Don’t order anything else. Except maybe fish and chips.” Christopher has lived his whole life in England and has just confirmed my worst fears about his native cuisine. Not that there’s anything wrong with steak and kidney pie or fish and chips – if you don’t mind your recommended weekly allowance of fats and oils packed into one lunch.

British cuisine is not Mom, Baseball, Hot Dogs, Apple Pie, and Chevrolet. It’s the Queen, Cricket, Bangers, Shepherd’s Pie, and a Land Rover. I’ve seen the movies. The British never eat anything but Roast Beef, Yorkshire Pudding, Plum Pudding, Toad-in-the-Hole, and Very Boiled Vegetables. I know that half the Western world eats Very Boiled Vegetables, but if only the rest passed the lips of the Queen’s queens, they’d be fat. They’re not. There’s nothing quite like a fresh-faced boy straight from the English countryside to inspire loyalty to the crown.

I follow said boy to said countryside. The cliffs of Dover, the back alleys of London and Liverpoll. There is real food in Britain. And an excellence I hadn’t quite expected.

The hills are alive with wood pigeons, quail, rabbits, deer. Fresh herbs right from cottage gardens. For the meat-eaters among us, there is nothing quite so mouth-watering as a straight-form-the-oven Game Pie. Tender, juicy bites of venison and hare mingle with soft wedges of carrots, turnips, and potatoes. A sprig of English thyme gives its all for the tastebuds.

I’ve lived around New York for the last ten years. I thought I’d discovered a Jewish boy’s heaven when I first tasted lox from the Lower East Side. Then I had Hebridean salmon, oak smoked, sliced thin enough to read through. It melted on my palate like an aged Bordeaux. Maybe not destined for a bagel with a schmear of cream cheese, but on a bed of greens with a light vinaigrette you could even win over your lover’s mother.

There is a tradition in French cooking to use meat stocks for soup. Luckily, a tradition the English have not fallen prey to. I like vegetable soup that tastes like vegetables, not meat. In spring, a simple watercress and lemon broth. Summer brings a light puree of fresh garden peas with pungent English mint. A cream of leek with Stilton cheese soup swirls in with the Autumn leaves. Chill winter winds are held at bay by a perfect potato, parsnip, and pepper potage.

Back in London, there is nothing quite like High Tea…with the Queen. Cups of steaming Earl Grey by our sides, we work our way up a three-tiered serving stand. On level one are the finger sandwiches. Crustless rectangles of bread with smoked salmon and herb cream cheese, watercress and cucumber, thin sliced sausage and slivered apples. On to level two with its scones and crumpets with clotted cream and jam. The crumpet, for those who’ve always wondered, is an English Muffin that didn’t fall into America’s hands. We crest the tray at level three, with bite-sized wedges of frosted sponge cake. A last draw on our mugs of tea and we wander out into the street, our quest for English cuisine sated.

Weekend mornings are no longer complete without fresh baked scones. Not the small wedges of dough with the density of lead that can be found at your neighborhood muffin shop. Light, sweet or savory, quick to make, ready by your morning coffee. Get out that food processor or crack your knuckles and…

Thoroughly mix 1½ cups of all purpose flour, 1½ teaspoons of baking powder, a pinch of salt, and ½ a stick of butter. Add a handful of whatever your heart desires; raisins, chocolate chips, chopped nuts, grated cheese. A ½ teaspoon of the spice of your choice, 3 tablespoons of sugar if you want them sweet, an egg, and 4 tablespoons of milk. Mix together quickly; don’t go overboard or the dough will get tough. Add a little more milk if the dough is still crumbly. Take 1½ inch lumps of dough and flatten slightly on a floured baking sheet. Bake at 350 degrees for 10-15 minutes till golden brown. Eat. Long live the Queen.


Genre is a gay “lifestyle” and travel magazine. It was launched in 1992 by three entrepreneurs, two of whom shortly thereafter left to found QSF magazine. I went with them…

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