Cookin' out

We took a trip to Pennsylvania for a family birthday and enjoyed some simple and simply delicious barbecue. Perfectly seasoned burgers and roasted potatoes sprinkled with what was probably crack. And the weather was cool and sunny and perfect.

Cafes

Since we've been in the neighborhood here at the south end of Park Slope, two cafés have opened nearby, Kahawa a little more than a month ago, and Slope Cafe just about a week ago.

Kahawa I've reviewed here briefly before. Located on 5th avenue at the corner of 15th street, it has some good pastries and acceptable, if not memorable coffee. They have long hours but they have that feel of a place that was put together with a few of the pieces missing. And lately, they've just been closed all the time.

Slope cafe, on 4th avenue at the corner of 10th street, right by the F/G stop, claims in their menu to use pretty much every type of grass-fed, fair trade, hormone free, organic and homeschooled coffee bean, egg, vegetable, and meat you can find. On three quick morning stops so far, they've made pretty great breakfast sandwiches, but with your basic orange American cheese. Croissants in the case were individually wrapped in plastic from a mass-market bakery, and the first time I made the mistake of ordering an iced coffee, the girl at the counter just put hot coffee straight from the machine into a plastic cup of ice, leaving me with lukewarm, ice-free and diluted coffee.

I'm not sure if Kahawa is closed for good, and I hope that Slope Cafe gets their act together. Kahawa was the closest place for coffee open past 8, and Slope cafe is right by the train. But you can't open a new place like this without planning on losing money for a certain amount of months or years, so I hope they're both ready to weather whatever bumps they are going through. And I'm looking forward to Slope Cafe learning what to do with their coffee. (The hot coffee is actually pretty good, from Unique Roasters, who I never heard of before.) stop into both of these places (if Kahawa opens its doors again,) and offer some encouragement and voice your opinions about what they are getting right and what needs to be improved.

-SdJ

Master Chef

It took me until season 3 to finally watch this show, and the recent finale was great. You've got to wonder if the timing is played with a bit by the editing team, as some of the changes you see in dishes couldn't possibly happen in the 5 seconds to go that the chefs are yelling to the contestants. Anyway, some of the creativity displayed in the contestants' hurried dishes can be very inspiring. Just sayin'.

-SdJ

Effort

Sometimes the amount of enjoyment I get from a dish is directly proportionate to the amount of work involved in eating it. Something as simple to prep as an artichoke can take more than a half hour to eat. I decided to cook some the other night.

First, I trimmed the leaves of their points. I filled a pot with water, added salt, garlic cloves, a slice of lemon and a bay leaf, and set it to boil. I placed the artichokes in and put a lid on it for about a half hour. So simple! Some people prefer to steam them, but this works just fine if you drain them well when they're done.

While they were cooking, I made an aioli. Egg yolks beaten with a little lemon and mustard, a few drops of olive oil, then a few more, followed by a steady stream amounting to a little over a cup. Vinegar and salt and pepper. Crushed garlic, then in the fridge. Again, incredibly easy.

Twenty-five minutes later, we sat down to watch tv (the series finale of Star Trek TNG, in case you were wondering,) and enjoyed the ritual: Plucking one leaf at a time. Dipping them into the aioli. Scraping the soft flesh from the hard fibers with our teeth. Discarding the remains into a grocery bag (or large bowl, or trash bin, etc.) At a certain point, the leaves became translucent at the bottom. We bit off the entire lower portions. Then the entire leaf except for the pointy tip was edible. Finally, the leaves had shrunk into the fibrous and aptly named 'choke,' a mound of sharp-tipped hairs cradled in the heart of the artichoke. We scooped it out with a spoon and sliced the stem and heart into quarters which were entirely edible and begging for more of the garlicky mayonnaise.

Think about the flavor of an artichoke. It's texture is buttery, but what does it really taste like? If a vegetable could taste khaki, the artichoke does. It's mild and soft and way more work than pretty much anything else in the produce aisle. It's not a flavor unique enough that people make beverages or extracts out of it, and the closest thing to a popular artichoke byproduct in the supermarket is the marinated artichoke heart, which pretty much tastes like whatever liquid it has been suspended in. So why cook one?

There's an immense satisfaction in working at a task over time, seeing progress, and ultimately achieving a goal. If the taste of an artichoke was available with as little effort as a pear or a grape, some globular fruit easily plucked and swallowed, I don't think many people would even eat them. Enough of this world's bounty is that accessible and far more intensely delicious. But there's a satisfaction in the ritual of an artichoke.

-SdJ

Format.

We are skipping our entry tonight and in general on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays from now through the holidays. Posts will continue to go up on Tuesday and Thursday, along with weekends. Our schedule is becoming more hectic and rather than post poor quality daily, readers should look forward to good quality on a still regular, though less frequent basis.

On these nights, you may still get to look forward to little recommendations like the following: Korzo's Wednesday night special is delicious, and ultimate comfort food heading into fall. Try it for yourself.

-SdJ