Platos Pequenos and Huckleberry Friends

I had a thought involving food.  So the email pinged from Tyler's cousin and his wife, an extraordinary duo, two of our favorite people in the world.

Platos pequenos, the email continued, and I could hear their easy Spanish from years spent in Costa Rica, where they met and then later, here in Brooklyn, became a family and, so, became Tyler's family, and then, in a way, became mine.  Platos pequenos, my awkward, butchered repetition, later, to Tyler, from years spent working with an explorer named Dora.  Platos pequenos. All the small plates we could think of. 

Nights with Mathias and Allison run long and, always, warm in the overwhelming heat of one of our homes (ours in summer, theirs in winter.)  Dirty dishes pile in the sink, music hums, beating the rhythm of our easy conversation. What's a Huckleberry friend? I'll wonder out loud when Sinatra croons Moon River and the discussion turns thoughtful and there's talk of Twain and the bend of friendship along a river and the color of huckleberries, and whatever the explanation, I think, whether they are Tyler's family or perhaps mine, or just two of the best-found people in this criss-cross life, I think, these, are huckleberry friends. 

In any case, this was our meal.  Which I wanted to share with you.  Not so small at all.

Lucky

Stuffed devil peppers, white bean spread, marinated anchovies, bacon-wrapped prunes

Marinated octopus and roasted garlic

Jamon Serrano

Tunisian Carrot Salad. Recipe here.

We tried to recreate a dish we had on our honeymoon in San Sebastian, Spain at a small but beloved pintxos bar, Bar Goiz Argi.  

One of the best blue cheeses I have ever had in my life. Thank you Allison.

Mathias pours Txakoli,  a spanish white wine that you pour from up high to create a happy fizz. 

Overheard: They Have Bacon

I walked past Frankie Spuntino, an Italian restaurant in the neighborhood, made for the Brooklyn foodies. They take Grandma's favorites, give them fancy pants, jack up the prices, and we all devour accordingly.

A little boy who couldn't have been more than five or six years old stomped restlessly beside his mother and sister.  He pouted.  "But they don't have bacon at Frankie Spuntino.  They have it at Prime Meats."

"Yes they do," shouted the know-it-all sister, not much older than him. "They do have bacon.  Don't they Mommy?  Frankie Spuntino has bacon."

"Yes, they have bacon."

And aren't we glad it's all cleared up for the two Brooklyn foodies under the age of eight.

Into Winter

I had been holding out.  Not wanting to move from the purple wool coat to the puffy down.  There's no where to go from the puffy down coat.  It's the warmest coat I have.

I walked through the farmer's market, the greens covered in icy frost, reached for parsnips and carrots, my fingers pale and numb.

We won't be back 'til spring, said the woman collecting cash.  Tyler and I are at that particular stall every Sunday and even in October she is bundled in a hat, mittens, and her own marshmallow puff coat, mummy wrapped in multiple scarves.  We always tease that she must be from a warm climate.  It's a wonder she's lasted this long.  

Here's a gift for you.  And just like that, I was shepherded into winter with sweet potatoes in my hand.

I Eat

So...I have a strange habit. I take a picture of almost everything I eat. I have no idea what compels me to do this. There are, literally, hundreds of photos on my phone. They sit there. They serve no purpose. I'll admit. It's a little weird.

So, I share them with you. In the hopes that you'll want to go to these places or make these dishes yourself.

Hurricane Irene Lasagna @ My Kitchen

Chicken Cacciatore Concoction @ My Kitchen

Linguine with Clam Sauce @ My Kitchen

Caprese Salad with basil from my fire escape garden @ My Kitchen

Caprese Salad with no mozzarella because I forgot to buy it @ My Kitchen

Blurry Spicy Pork Ramen @ Momofuku Noodle Bar

Connecticut Style Lobster Roll @ Red Hook Lobster Pound

Cherry Lime Rickey I only ordered because it sounds like something from a book @ Tom's Diner

Do you have any weird habits you'd like to share? This is a safe place.

E is for Eatin'

It should be noted that most of my life revolves around food. If I'm not eating, I'm thinking about where, when, and what I'm going to eat next. Ever since I got my smart phone (it's an Android for those keeping track) I've taken a lot of pictures of the food Tyler and I cook. People ask me why on earth I do this and what purpose it serves. Well. Would you look at that? It now has a very specific purpose! It's going on the blog!

Enjoy!

Guinness Meat Pie

Homemade grilled pizza with arugula, ricotta, & goat cheese

Braised short ribs. 6 hours to cook. 2 minutes to eat.

Chocolate pecan pie

Homemade mozzerella (my hands were practically on fire at this point, that water is hot!)

Lebanese couscous with tomatoes, feta, and olives

Taking It To The Whole

Every once and a while I'll be sitting at a meal eating something delicious and I'll discover that I am full. My pants will feel a little tighter. My stomach will feel a little queasy. And I'll start to feel a bit gluttonous. But, here's the thing, if it's delicious enough, it won't matter. I will continue to eat until it is gone.

This is what I fondly call: Taking it to the whole*.

This means that I could be sitting at the table, eating a hamburger and french fries, groaning and whining that I'm so full I could die. And then I'll take another bite. Yeah. It makes no logical sense. Basically, I make the conscious decision that, it's so delicious, there is no way I'm going to leave a spare bite behind.

This also happens to me when I'm reading books. I'll be innocently reading, making my way through the words and I will get to a moment. And I will literally say to myself, That's it. I'm taking it to the whole. This means that, no matter how late it is, whether I'm on page 5 or 500, I have reached a moment where there is NO WAY I am going to put the book down until I've devoured it completely.

I'm thrilled to let you know that this has happened to me three times in recent weeks. Three times! It doesn't happen to me often (at least not as often as it happens to me when I'm eating) so I was really excited. It happened with Kate Racculia's This Must Be The Place. I reached one of those big reveals, which I sometimes call a Maury Povich moment: (You are NOT the father!) and there was simply no way I was going to put the book down until I found out how it unfolded. Then it happened during Mitali Perkins' Bamboo People. I was so invested in the characters that there was no way I was putting the book down until I knew they were all going to be okay. And Rachel Simon's memoir, Riding The Bus With My Sister, in which I just had to know where everyone ended up after a literal and figurative crazy ride.

I just get to this point and there is absolutely no return. Since I mostly read at night, that means that taking it to the whole leaves me sleep deprived.

Does this happen to you guys? With books or food? How often do you take it to the whole?

*I have no idea if this is a real expression or where I ever heard it. I could be using it incorrectly and I wouldn't know. It's occurred to me that the expression could very well be "taking it to the hole" like you are taking it to the grave. Either way, I would like to take delicious food and amazing books to the grave, so I still feel it's appropriate.

UPDATE: Even though I googled and binged it, not finding much on what this expression means, it has come to my attention (Thanks Tyler!) that this is, perhaps, a basketball expression, in which you are 'taking it to the hole' and putting it in the basket. Still works. Still think taking it to the 'whole' in these cases is fine. Any other definitions for this expression are welcome.