AfterTaste (by Sherry)

 VERSUS

ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALLLLLLL?

I certainly am, but more importantly than that I’m ready for some wings n’ things.

That’s right, ladies and gents, it’s that time of the year. The time of the year when you can’t flip through TV for five minutes without catching about 20 beer commericals, 40 pizza commercials, and at least 15 different bikini-clad women who have no business being in either.

For me, this Sunday will be less about the two titan teams of the northeast battling it out for bragging rights for the next year and more about whether I’ve ordered enough bulk packs of raw chicken wings.

This is the menu I’ve designed for my Super Bowl party this year:

• Spicy Buffalo wings with blue cheese and celery (naturally)
• Honey BBQ wings (for those who appreciate a little less heat)
• Turkey chili cheesy nachos (because I can’t drink copious amounts of beer without nachos; well, I can, but I’m not happy about it)
• Baked spinach artichoke dip with tortilla chips
• Pizza with fresh tomatoes, garlic, and parmigiano reggiano cheese

The menu needs little explanation. To me, chicken wings are staples of not only Super Bowl parties across the country, but also staples of any event where there is a lot of beer swigging. Buffalo sauce is classic and mindbogglingly simple since it consists of literally just butter and hot sauce. Follow the recipe on the back of the Frank’s Hot Sauce bottle, it’s the original and it’s perfect just the way it is.

The addition of bbq wings was for those few moments when you need a bit of a break from the fire of the buffalo, for when you need some sticky sweetness to coat the back of your searing throat.

I plan to use a technique of Food Network’s Ina Garten’s for oven fried chicken, because I can’t deal with standing there frying up drummettes in batches of 3-4 while my guests pile in and hug me, wondering why I am still dressed in a robe and why I smell like I just got home from working a shift at KFC. But at the same time, I can’t get away from the delicious texture that frying imparts on a wing so Ina’s technique is my solution. I will lightly season and flour the wings, par-fry the wings for about 5 minutes a couple of hours before the party, then finish the cooking in the oven for another 30-40 minutes in a 350 degree oven. Then I’ll keep them warm in a 200 degree oven until I’m ready to toss, sauce, and serve them.

I perfected making nachos last summer when I discovered that they’re best done in the microwave, not the oven and that I like to use a cheese sauce in addition to real shredded cheddar and jack cheeses for a flavorful, but gooey combo. I add the “turkey chili” (just ground turkey spiced with cumin, salt, pepper, chili powder, and garlic powder cooked with tomato paste in a pot) for some heft and depth. To lighten the overall heavy dish, I like to sprinkle salsa or chopped tomatoes, chopped onions, pickled jalapenos, and cilantro on top. I garnish it with dollops of sour cream and sometimes guacamole.

The baked spinach artichoke dip, which I’ve never made before, is a little experiment I’m doing out of curiosity. It could come out fantastic, it could come out oily and disgusting. Who KNOWS? That’s the charm of the dish. I’m excited to make it though because, if all goes according to plan, it’ll be delectable.

The pizza may seem to stand out a little. I was pretty close to cutting it out altogether just to make my life simpler (and my wallet a little less empty), but then I realized I needed another dish that didn’t involve fried components, yet still has a place at a Superbowl party. That’s why I chose pizza and why I kept the dish simple with just fresh chopped tomatoes and a sprinkling of cheese.

I wish all other Super Bowl party hosts and hostesses lots of luck.

Here are some tips to keep the day just a hair less anxiety-inducing:

1. Plan out the cooking/timing of your dishes: This is the only time I’ll say this, but think Rachael Ray here. How does she cook those 30 minute meals? Aside from using disgusting ingredients and shortcuts, she meticulously plans the sequence in which she’ll cook things so everything is ready at precisely the same time. If there are components of dishes you can make ahead of time, by all means, make them ahead of time (like my turkey chili which I’ll be making Saturday). If you have certain dishes that can only be made right when everyone’s ready to eat them, make sure you have at least a few things out (even if it’s just chex mix and pretzels) on the table when your guests arrive so they have something to munch on and don’t notice that you’re still putting the final touches on the more high maintenance dishes (in my case, the wings).
2. Get help from the freezer if you need it: Buy frozen franks in a blanket (Hebrew National brand is best, TRUST ME, I’ve tried many others), get frozen bagel bites, make some frozen dumplings, if you need some assistance. They are great additions to a Super Bowl party menu. No one will notice. Your guests will just be so ecstatic that someone else shares their appreciation of Totino’s pizza rolls.
3. Make more of a few dishes than a little bit of a lot of dishes: This will save you the fear of running out of food since it will be easier to estimate how much you’ll need of 2-3 dishes than 5-6 and, in terms of prep time, number of ingredients, and dirty dishes, your life will be just that much simpler. You will notice I did not follow my own advice here, but then again, I’m a masochist.
4. Don’t forget the non-alcoholic drinks: Not everyone will be drinking beer, so roll that keg aside and make room for some soda and waters.
5. Lastly, relax and have a good time: You can fret and freak on New Year’s or Thanksgiving. This party is a time for friends and family to get together in sweats and jerseys, cheer savagely, eat horrendously unhealthy food with zero guilt, and have an excuse to call in sick the next day.

And one last thing…

GO BIG BLUE!

Chinatown Brasserie
380 Lafayette Street (corner of Great Jones Street)
(212) 533-7000

This had never happened to me before. I’ve read about it in fiercely angry reviews on menupages.com and nymag.com, and always wondered to myself, “this really happens?” Perhaps, up until now, I’ve been going to all the right restaurants, restaurants that respect their patrons, take pride in their level of service, and actually honor reservations made. Perhaps, up until now, I’ve been lucky.

I had made a reservation at Chinatown Brasserie for 10:15pm (earliest time available) for this past Friday for Restaurant Week. I met Matt there and noticed with a sigh of gratitude that the place was not in a state of madness. It was neither too crowded nor too loud. We arrived ten minutes early so when one of the three hostesses told us it would be ten minutes, we nodded in understanding. But then no one offered to check our bulky coats for us. Five minutes passed and we had to ask them to check our coats; not a very big deal, but noted. The same hostess that told us it would be ten minutes led us to a small door next to the bar and checked our coats.  There was no suggestion of waiting at the (nearly empty) bar, so I took it upon myself to tell her that we would be waiting there, praying she wouldn’t forget us. Sitting down at the bar, we were presented with drink menus by the seemingly polite bartender. It then took another ten minutes to give our orders. I tapped my fingers on the beautifully hammered metal bar as I watched the bartender rush to and fro for the three other customers, then meander down to the other end of the bar while refusing to look up so I couldn’t make eye contact with him. We finally gave our orders and received our drinks with an apology, the only apology we would receive all night. My blood orange martini was eye-poppingly strong, which in the end was probably a good thing.

So Matt and I chatted and chatted…and chatted and chatted and chatted. I asked him what time it was. It was 10:35pm, 20 minutes past the time of our already very late reservation, so I sent Matt to go ask what was going on. When he returned he said the hostess told him we were “next” with no apology for the wait. Losing my patience, I rolled my eyes and turned back to my drink. We continued talking about love, life, and the American way when I asked again what time it was. It was now 10:50pm.

10:50pm. 35 minutes past our reservation. I was livid.

I walked to the hostess (a different one than the coat checker) and stated plainly, but not too sternly, “Excuse me, but I had a 10:15pm reservation and I’ve been waiting at the bar for nearly 40 minutes now. Can we be seated soon?” The hostess, without batting an eye, peered slowly around the large dining room with a markedly blasé attitude. “There’s a table,” she stated as she nonchalantly pulled out two menus. Once again, no apology, no excuses. Nothing. I stormed back to the bar and told Matt we had a table.

To be clear, I am not the type that is overly concerned with service. I don’t need slavishly doting waiters, but my experience at Chinatown Brasserie was entirely unexpected. The exchange with the hostesses from beginning to end left such a horrible taste in my mouth that it was hard to enjoy the meal after that. It was also difficult to enjoy the meal because, OH YEAH, it was nearly DAWN.

The food was delicious and our waiter was very pleasant, thank god, but again, everything had already been tainted. There’s no worst feeling than sitting down at a table, feeling disrespected by the very establishment you’re forking your money over to.

We both began with the barbecued ribs (2 ribs each), which were coated in a tasty barbecue sauce, but had no real hint of any Asian influences; at least they were meaty. Mine were not too fatty, but Matt’s apparently were and he has a pretty high fatty meat tolerance.

Next were our dim sum courses. I had the “B” assortment with the peking duck spring rolls, a beef “triangle”, a pork gyoza type pan fried dumpling, and a pan fried garlic chive dumpling that reminded me of a Thai dish I haven’t had in ages. I enjoyed the peking duck spring rolls and garlic chive dumpling the most. The garlic chive dumpling was pleasantly sticky and doughy with a delicate onion/garlic flavor from the chive. The beef triangle tasted only of fried spring roll dough and the pork dumpling tasted like something I could order at any Japanese restaurant.

Matt’s dumpling assortment (”A”)  came in a bamboo steamer. He was so hungry he inhaled everything before I could ask him how each piece was. I believe he enjoyed the crab dumpling the most, but who knows. They looked light, delicious, and well-crafted.

For our mains, I had the peking duck and Matt had the crispy chicken with a chili bean sauce. The peking duck came with a side of sliced cucumbers and scallions, a bamboo steamer of eight flour wrappers (of 4-5 inch radius), and a bowl of hoisin sauce. It was delicious and certainly a hearty portion (I couldn’t believe it when I counted up the wrappers), but I couldn’t help thinking that peking duck should be made to order or at least eaten in a restaurant with such a high turnover that the peking duck might has well be made to order since they have to pump them out (literally) every other minute. It was tasty, but nothing special. No creative twists with the hoisin sauce or the flavor of the duck. At least the fat was scraped off the skin in the properly traditional fashion.

Matt’s chicken was prepared in a similar way, with the skin crisped up, separated from the white meat, and the fat scraped off. The chicken was garnished with a scattering of fried garlic bits. The “chili bean” sauce tasted more like a slightly less sweet hoisin sauce. I expected a more complex flavor and was not very impressed, but Matt seemed to enjoy it. The rice was noteworthy, however, with its greasy (in a good way) texture and taste, reminiscent of Hainanese chicken rice, where the rice is cooked in chicken broth and fat. I suppose the only real issue I had with the dish was the sauce. It should not have been so sweet.

For dessert Matt had a surprisingly delectable chocolate lychee cake with a white chocolate sauce and a ball of hazelnut ice cream. I asked for just lychee sorbet, which was unpleasantly florally and tasted of roses and hibiscus. You would know there was lychee in it only if you were told.

The frozen mai tai, the bar’s specialty, was perfectly strong, sweet, and tart. Strangely garnished with an olive, the drink was neither too watery nor too icy.

My experience at Chinatown Brasserie left me wondering if I’d be returning for dinner anytime soon. It’s a shame really. The decor is striking with the requisite red drapery and dark woods, not to mention the beautiful koi pond located under the stairs to left as you walk in. The food is solid, the noise level tolerable, the location easily accessible. 

I may just stick to the dim sum brunches from now on. Perhaps in the cold, harsh light of day, the staff of Chinatown Brasserie will learn to mind their manners and understand that they are, indeed, in the service industry.

• 2 Restaurant Week Prix-Fixe Meals - $70
• 1 Frozen Mai Tai - $12
• 1 Pint Pilsner Urquell - $6
• Total (excluding tax and tip) - $88

Momofuku Ssam Bar
207 Second Avenue (on the corner of 13th Street)
(212) 254-3500

Excuse the ridiculous title. I couldn’t help myself.

The Momofuku restaurants (Momofuku Noodle Bar, Momofuku Ssam Bar, and the latest Momofuku Ko) and their omnipotent, do-no-wrong, GQ’s Chef of the Year creator David Chang have gotten plenty of hype in the past year. Chang’s image as a rebellious young chef with an attitude appeals to New York diners. We may enjoy prissy, delicate, subtle foods (our Masa, our Payard pastries) now and then, but when it comes right down to it, we like our food like we love our city: innovative, brash, unapologetic, yet full of mirth, with just a touch of pretension. This is why Chang’s Momofuku empire has taken off and that is why David Chang is here to stay.

I have yet to sample Chang’s other little “lucky peaches” (that’s what “momofuku” means apparently), but I have been to Momofuku Ssam Bar (MSB) twice now and have been amazed each time by how satisfied I am when I leave. I always expect to like Momofuku Ssam Bar, not love it; to be full at the end of the meal, but not sated. And each time my expectations are dashed to pieces to my pleasant surprise.

I went recently with Matt, who else (God I sound isolated and pathetic) at 7pm on a Friday night. The joint was, as always ,packed and hopping. I predicted it would be filling up, but I always thought of the majority of MSB’s patrons as being the nocturnal hipster type from Williamsburg who don’t eat dinner until 10pm. I thought we wouldn’t have to wait, but alas, we were told the wait would be about 20 minutes. Matt and I had both psyched ourselves up so much that we couldn’t just turn and go eat at one of the other 9 million restaurants in the area so we squeezed our way past the tables on the left and the bar to our right to the “waiting” area in the back of the restaurant, an area so clearly carved out as an afterthought. It consists of a 5 foot x 5 foot open space with one side by the open and bustling kitchen, another side covering the entrance to the bathroom and to one of the kitchens, and another side hemmed in by the entrance to the area behind the bar. I was jostled to and fro by dashing waiters in their American Apparel long sleeved tees, while a table of 10 to my left (covering the 4th side of the waiting area) savagely tore into their whole roasted pork butt (Bo Ssam) offered for $180.00 for a minimum of 8 people.

I don’t know how, but the 20 minute waited turned into a 5 minute and we were able to grab two seats at the end of the long, dark bar.

MSB’s famous brussel sprouts came out first, a glossy dark brown, you taste the intense roasting that those little sprouts have suffered through, and yet they’ve managed to maintain a certain amount of crispness. You also taste the vinegary, spicy, sweet light dressing they were tossed in. The hint of mint and the flavor of that deep dark char are what elevate the dish from Lovely-Thanksgiving-at-Your-Parents’-House to Dammit-Chang-You’re-a-Genius territory. The spiced rice krispies sprinkled on top seem an unnecessary novelty, as they become soggy too soon to contribute much to the overall texture of the dish, a texture which is fine as it is anyhow. They look like maggots in photographs to boot.

The next dish to come out were Chang’s famous pork buns, like the lovechild of peking duck and a steamed pork bun from Chinatown. Upon a bed of hoisin sauce, cucumbers, and scallions (the peking duck part) lie slices of roasted pork belly tucked into an unattractively pale, white slab of dough (the steamed bun part) that has been folded over the filling. The texture of the dough is hard to describe, at once sponge cake-like and Wonder™ bread-like. The comforting warmth and doughiness of this dish makes me wish I could wake up with one of these every morning on my bedside table.

Two adequately sized pieces of banh mi, aka Vietnamese sandwich, arrived next. Slices of pork pate, layered with pickled carrots, pickled cucumbers, cilantro, and mayo, are served on crusty, fresh French baguette. If you’ve never ventured below Houston and are never planning on heading to Chinatown, try MSB’s fairly classic, conventional take on the dish. But it’s not the most spectacular banh mi I’ve ever had, having worked near Chinatown.

For our main courses, we both had ssams, lettuce leaf ssams, not real ssams (more to come on that later). They both resembled Korean barbeque wraps more than any Korean “burrito” type ssam. My dish consisted of slices of grilled pork sausage patties, lettuce leaves, pickled carrots, pickled turnips, some cilantro leaves, and a big bowl of thin sweet and sour sauce similar to Vietnamese nuoc nam. The pork sausages retained the flavor of the grill and had the pleasantly rough texture of most Asian sausages, as opposed to the slick skins of some classic French and Italian Sausages. Here texture was key. There was the soft, somewhat chewy texture of the sausage underneath the crunchy texture of the pickles topped off with a few fluttering cilantro leaves, all wrapped up in the snap of the Boston lettuce. This interplay of textures between the different ingredients mirrored and highlighted the interplay of flavors: salty, porky sausage, tart, sweet pickles, green, herbaceous cilantro, and mild, fresh lettuce. I was disappointed there was no rice so for most of the bites I stole some rice from Matt’s bowl (there was plenty to go around with some left over too). So add to all of that the sticky, warm rice and you have the perfect little bite.

Matt’s marinated steak came sliced over caramelized onions with a scallion oil, a kimchi puree, lettuce leaves, and a bowl of rice. The onion-y, but mild scallion oil paired perfectly with the fiery kimchi. Once more, we see the beautifully structured composition of flavors. The rice provides a warm bed to soak up the delicious oil and the spicy, sharp kimchi. Then come the lusciously sweet caramelized onions and the perfectly pink, lean, and tender steak.

Some things I had the other time I visited MSB were the seasoned pickles and the Jonah crab claws. The claws were delicious, fresh with a fantastic yuzu mayo, but the four little claws were not worth the price. The pickles, again though tasty, were not worth the price tag.

As for the incredible ssams that I once had the privilege and pleasure of having at MSB, the real ssams with the burrito-like structure, they are no longer on the dinner menu and, rumor has it, they don’t even exist on the lunch menu anymore. The lunch menu used to focus centrally on the more traditional ssams. Where did they go? I’m not sure, but will investigate because it would be a crime to offer New York the uniquely beautiful ssam and then cruelly yank it away. Here’s my source for the ssam having disappeared.

Regardless of all that, this is one of the few times I will openly say this about any chef or restaurant: believe the hype.

Because Chang ain’t goin’ nowhere.

• Brussel Sprouts - $12*
• Banh Mi - $9
• Steamed Pork Buns - $9
• Grilled Lemongrass Pork Sausage Ssam - $18
• Marinated Hanger Steak Ssam - $21
• 2 Glasses of Riesling - $20
• 1 Bottle of Anchor Steam - $6*
• Total (excluding tax and tip) - $95

*  Price estimated because I couldn’t find it anywhere on the Internet.

Visit www.nycvisit.com for the restaurants participating in Restaurant Week, which begins today. At nycvisit.com, you’ll find RW menus and links to opentable.com to make rezzies. Many places are probably booked up, but have at it! Ya never know.

I’ve always had reservations about Restaurant Week (no pun intended). I think that at some restaurants, RW is a fantastic opportunity to sample some wonderful dishes at a fab price; however, at other restaurants, RW is also a great opportunity to swindle money out of the hands of unsuspecting tourists and food enthusiasts alike.

As Matt reminded me, I’ve always felt that the prix-fixe menus offered during RW are “hacked to pieces” and often don’t offer any of the restaurant’s signature dishes. Instead, you end up eating a green salad, a mediocre piece of chicken, and a trio of sorbet for $35.00 (plus tax and tip and the copious amounts of wine you had to drink to swallow the idea of having paid so much for so little). But this year I am enthusiastic. I am optimistic. I hope for the best…and I keep in mind that, if worst comes to absolute worst, there’s always a la carte dining. Yes, even if you tell them you’re there for RW when they seat you, you can change your mind.

Some tips to not make dud RW choices:

1. Do some research. Check out the restaurant’s regular menu. Is paying $35 to be locked into a set menu worth it? Maybe dining a la carte at that restaurant wouldn’t be more (or much more) than $35 anyway. Check out reviews. What are their famous/noteworthy/ signature dishes? Are they on the RW menu? This leads to tip number two which is to…
2. Examine the RW menu closely. Are there dishes on the menu you’d actually enjoy or would you be “settling”? (”I hate foie gras and smoked salmon so I suppose I could have the beet salad as a starter…at least I got to say I dined at [insert name of well-known, popular restaurant]!”) Don’t dine somewhere just to say you dined there. The menu should inspire excitement and salivation. Also, compare the lunch and dinner RW menus (if the restaurant is offering prix-fixe menus for both). The restaurant may be sneakily offering the exact same dishes for both meals but at $24.07 for lunch and $35 for dinner (like at 21 Club…those scam artists).
3. Make multiple reservations. Keep a few different places in mind. Shop around for good dining times and pick out 2 or 3 restaurants, even if you’re not sure you’ll be able to go to all of them. I know someone will kill me for saying this, but if you’re not sure if your friend is free to eat at a restaurant on a particular night or at a particular time or whatever else might stop you from making the rezzy, book the timeslot anyway.  If your dining companion punks out, you’ll be able to find someone else, I guarantee it. But if you cannot make it, MAKE SURE YOU OFFICIALLY CANCEL AT LEAST 8 HOURS AHEAD OF TIME. No show-ing is not cool restaurant etiquette.
4. Don’t just go for the big name restaurants. You know what restaurants I mean, the Nobus, the Eleven Madison Parks, and the Smith and Wollenskys of the world. If this is your only chance to participate in RW EVER, then consider the classics. But if it’s not, try the places you may not have heard of a million times in the past 10 years. Go on a limb. Be adventurous. Just remember tips #1 and #2.

Here is my upcoming RW schedule:

• Alfama - Portugese Cuisine, Monday, January 21st, 8:45pm Cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances [insert sad face]

• Chinatown Brasserie - Chinese Cuisine, Friday, January 25, 10:15pm 
• Butter - American/Eclectic Cuisine, Monday, January 28th, 6pm
• Centrico - Mexican Cuisine, Friday, February 1st, 7:30pm Cancelled due to two other disappointing RW experiences

Fork in hand and hoping/praying for the best,

Sherry

I’ve done it. I’ve done it, I’ve done it, I’ve done it! I’ve finally “perfected” my roasted chicken recipe that I had first tried on Christmas. I put the word, perfected, in quotation marks because of course it’s not perfect. It’ll get better each time that I make it, but for right now it’s as close to perfection as I could expect it to be.

Ever since I made roasted chicken for Christmas dinner which Matt could not attend, he has been hounding me to make it for him. Apparently he loooooves roast chicken, who knew? I didn’t. So tonight, at 8pm, I embarked on a little journey, what turned out to be a 3 1/2 hr journey (whoops, eating at 11:30? How’d that happen?). I took what I did last time, changed a few things, added, subtracted, and came up with the following recipe. One of the important things I subtracted was the number of herbs I used. Last time I used sage, rosemary, thyme, and parsley, far too many strong flavors whirling around. This time I stuck to just one, maybe I would’ve done two if I had another, but two TOPS. The recipe really is phenomenal (sorry, am I starting to sound obnoxious?). The chicken is juicy and incredibly flavorful, the vegetables tangy and sweet, and the gravy is savory and light (tasting). Try it, try it, try it. It truly is a one pan meal, one gigantic pan, but still. And I’m sure it won’t take you 3 1/2 hours…

Herb Roasted Chicken

Serves 3-4

1 4-lb. roaster chicken, rinsed (preferably free-range)
1 stick unsalted butter, left out to soften at room temperature and cut into chunks
1 garlic clove, grated
1/2 lemon’s worth of zest (or approx. 1 tbs.)
4 tbs. lemon juice
Approx. 2 tbs. olive oil
1-2 boxes low sodium chicken stock*
1 lemon, sliced in half and already squeezed
1 tbs. sage or rosemary or thyme, minced
3 tsp. all purpose flour
Salt and pepper
Carrots, peeled and chopped into 2-inch long chunks*
Brussel sprouts, outer leaves peeled, sprouts trimmed, and halved*
Parsnips, peeled and chopped into 2-inch long chunks *
Sweet onions, peeled and quartered*
Any other root vegetables you like

*Amount not specified because how much you use will depend on how big a roasting pan you’re using. Don’t overcrowd the bottom of the pan, but fit in as much as you can with each veggie touching the bottom of the pan and not piled on top of each other.

• Preheat your oven to 450 degrees.
• In a bowl, mix and mash together 1 tbs. of the lemon juice, the zest, the herbs, the grated garlic, 1/2 stick of the butter, pepper, and two BIG pinches of salt. Set aside.
• Rinse the chicken off in the sink and pat it dry with paper towels. Turn the chicken so the drumsticks are nearest you and the wings are away from you. Trim off the flaps of fat near “the cavity” (read: anus, butthole, what have you) and discard. Gently push your fingers, eventually your whole hand, between the skin of the chicken and the breast. You’ll find your way in right at the top of the cavity, the skin will already be pulling away somewhat from the meat. Just keep gently pushing your hand under (ignore the bone chilling sensation) to separate the skin from the meat, until you’ve separated all the skin that’s over the entire breast. Take care not to pierce or rip the skin. Some of the skin near the cavity might split or tear a little during the process, that’s okay.
• Generously (and I mean, generously, like 3-4 big pinches of salt), salt and pepper the cavity of the chicken. Stuff the two lemon halves (which you’ve already squeezed of their juice) into the cavity.
• Next, take a small lump of the herb butter (about a tablespoon) in your hand and slide it under the skin of the chicken all the way to the front. You’re going to be putting this butter under and all over the skin, so make sure you ration it out well. Keep sliding little bits of the butter under the skin and press on the lumps from on top of the skin in order to spread it evenly under the skin. Once the entire area under the skin is buttered, use the remaining butter to evenly season the outside of the bird: the breast, the wings, drumsticks, everywhere (except under the body and inside the cavity). Salt and pepper the outside of the bird.
• Tuck the wings under the bird so they don’t burn and then tie the two drumsticks together with kitchen twine.
• In your roasting pan, scatter the cut veggies on the bottom. Season the veggies with salt and pepper, and sprinkle the remaining amount of lemon juice over them. Pour enough chicken stock onto the veggies to reach about an inch up the sides of the pan. Put the bird on the rack in the pan. Drizzle the olive oil all over the chicken.
• Place the pan into the oven for 20-25 minutes (look for a nice browning).
• Once it’s evenly browned, remove the chicken from the oven and lower the oven to 375. While the chicken is out of the oven, check the stock level. If there’s a bit left, that’s good. Add a bit more. If it looks all brown and dried out on the bottom, add enough stock to reach up about 1/2 an inch up the sides of the pan. Don’t scrape up the veggies now. Just leave them.
• Put the chicken back into the oven and set the timer for 50 minutes. Check on the chicken and baste every 15 minutes. Whenever the stock evaporates (and it will), pour more stock in to moisten everything again and provide basting liquid (again, the amount will depend on how big your pan is).
• After 45 minutes, using a meat thermometer, check the internal temperature of the chicken by poking it into the thickest, meatiest part of the chicken (diagonal into the breast meat). When it registers 175-180, it’s cooked. It very well could take an hour, so if the chicken’s temperature is not quite there, stick it back in the oven and set the timer for another 10 minutes.
• Once the chicken’s cooked, take the pan out of the oven. Cut the strings off of the drumsticks, remove the lemon halves, and tip the chicken so that all the juices in the cavity pour out into the pan. Remove the chicken from the rack to a cutting board or plate. Lightly tent some foil over it. Let the chicken rest at least 20 minutes.
• Scoop all the veggies out of the pan into a bowl. A lot of them will be slightly stuck, scrape them off. Next put the pan on the stove top over two burners over low heat. Pour about a cup of stock into the pan. Scrape up the roasted bits left at the bottom of the pan (but leave them in, don’t scrape and scrap). When it’s all scraped up, sprinkle in the flour and drop in the rest of the butter. Stir so the flour cooks and the butter melts. Taste the gravy for salt or pepper. Strain the gravy into a bowl to get all the charred bits out. (Side note: I haven’t figured out how to skim the fat off the top yet, but that’s why I put the quotes around the word, perfected, remember?)
• Carving time! This can be a little intimidating to some, but it needn’t be. First cut the right drumstick off of the main body. You might have to wiggle the leg around a bit and end up ripping some meat, but that’s okay. Cut the right wing (same thing with the wiggling and ripping) from the body. Now slice down the right side of the breast bone, following the curve of the bone (curves right). The next long cut will go where the breast connects to the wing area and sweep into a cut where the breast connected to the drumstick area. At this point cut across (toward the breast bone), then up and to the left to meet the cut you made from the breast bone. The cuts you make won’t be perfectly smooth. You’ll need to saw back and forth a bit. You may even need to make more than two-three long sawing cuts, but try not to hack it to pieces. See diagram below.
• Once you get the breast off, slice it into big chunks so everyone gets a little piece of skin. Repeat all of this for the left side. It will get a little messy, no worries.
• Serve the chicken alongside the bowl of veggies and the gravy. Dig in and rejoice.

I’ve never heard Matt say, oh my god, so many times, in response to my cooking. I’d say that’s a good sign.

My apologies for having disappeared for over a week. There’s just too much to report.

The Roth Hall I’ll be mentioning a million times

I recently returned from an all too brief trip to the beautiful Hudson Valley with Matt for our one year anniversary (as my boyfriend, remember, not husband). This is my excuse for having not updated my blog in so long. It was a fantastic trip that perfectly melded my passion and his. We ate at the famous Culinary Institute of America three times and toured its beautiful campus (my passion, obviously). In between meals, we went to the Franklin D. Roosevelt Library Museum twice and toured FDR’s house (Matt’s passion). We also did a wine tasting at the lovely Rivendell Winery near New Paltz, NY (our passion).

It’ll take me forever to detail the trip in full, so I decided to cut all the food related parts down into concise bullet point style descriptions (and even then, it’s taken me three days to write this).

Day 1:

• Wine Tasting at Rivendell Winery: $10 bought you a tasting of 5 different wines on their extensive list. Not all the wines offered were Rivendell wines, but they were all wines made in NY state. We ended up buying 4 bottles, two bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon for Matt, a bottle of Rivendell Riesling for me, and a bottle of Pinot Noir for our dinner at the Buttermilk Falls Inn. Since we spent more than $50, we got $10 back. Sweet. Total = $75
• Dinner at A. Escoffier at the Culinary Institute of America: Entering Roth Hall where the restaurant is located was a little disorienting at first. There I was, dressed in a beautiful black wrap dress walking into what looked exactly like my college’s campus center (not necessarily a terrible thing considering Princeton has a great campus center, but still). At the end of a hallway to the left is the French restaurant where students do the waiting, hosting, and cooking. When or if you go, make sure to go with an open mind and a relaxed, magnanimous attitude. Our waiter repeatedly referred to us as “guys” in a soft, meek whisper, as in “Heeeyyy, guysss…would you like to start off with a cocktail?”. I wore a bemused smile on my face for most of the meal as the waiters awkwardly attempted to unveil our dishes simultaneously (accompanied by a completely unnecessary, yet endearing “voila!” from both gentlemen). We watched, sighing sympathetically, as the waitress at the table next to ours messed up the order of bananas foster made table side and had to retreat sheepishly into the kitchen for some new bananas. I had a delicious and light crab salad dotted with candied walnuts and garnished with celeriac and a cylinder of apple jelly for my appetizer and a sirloin steak with sauteed mushrooms for a main course. The crab tasted just a teeny bit fishy, but there certainly was a lot of it and the pairing of the crab with the apple and sweet walnuts was brilliant. The steak, sitting in a puddle of red wine sauce, was delicious, although cooked more medium-well than the medium-rare I had asked for. Also, if you go, make sure to ask for a table in the room with a large arched window overlooking the kitchen. At first, we felt it strangely eerie, like a human aquarium of sorts with toques instead of fins, bright shiny copper pots instead of coral reefs. But after awhile, also much like an aquarium, we found it a relaxing place to rest our eyes in between conversations. For dessert, the flourless chocolate cake was more like a small dome of flourless chocolate cake covered in chocolate mousse, enrobed in chocolate, and then ringed with tiny pebbles of dark chocolate (which became lodged in my throat for the remainder of the evening, no matter). The flourless portion provided density and depth and the mousse provided the balancing lightness to create pure chocolate perfection. To go with it all, we had a wonderfully fruity Pinot Noir from the Finger Lakes region. Total (excluding tax and tip) = $153

Side Note: I just read the above review to Matt who said, “not exactly a ringing endorsement” to which I replied, “it’s not meant to be.” And it’s not; however, if you are a food/cooking/chef/eating/dining/restaurant-obsessed fool such as myself, it is undoubtedly worth the experience of visiting at least one of the CIA’s fancier establishments (A. Escoffier, Caterina di Medici, or American Bounty) and seeing how they operate for yourself.

Day 2:

• Breakfast at Our Inn, Buttermilk Falls: We had a terrific breakfast in the solarium of our inn. With only two choices on the menu, one sweet, one savory, making the decision was easy. Matt had the baked oatmeal with a strawberry yogurt sauce and I had an omelette with impossibly ripe cherry tomatoes (no idea where they found those in the dead of winter), avocado, and parmigiano cheese. Both were served with thick cut, maple glazed bacon. Excellent way to start the day.
• Lunch at the Apple Pie Bakery Cafe: We ended up going to this bakery twice in all because it was so fantastic and reasonably priced. So much more than a bakery, it has a wide selection of delectable cold sandwiches, panini, pizzas, salads, and gelato in addition to its breads, pastries, and desserts, all served in a beautifully bricked, warm setting rife with apple-themed decor. My reuben panini was the best reuben I’ve ever had, the fact that it wasn’t an authentic reuben forgiven. First off, it was served on lightly oiled and pressed sourdough, not greasy rye toast. The Russian dressing was served on the side with only mustard on the sandwich. The ratio of lean, lean corned beef to sauerkraut and Swiss cheese was impeccably balanced. Matt was justifiably envious. Not that he had anything to complain about, he had a refreshing turkey and gruyere cheese sandwich topped with cucumbers, avocado, and a chipotle mayo. I did catch him eying my reuben though. I offered to switch sandwich halves, but the stubborn boy he is, he refused. Total (excluding tax) = $18.75
• Tour of the Culinary Institute of America: Our tour began in Roth Hall, the same building A. Escoffier (and American Bounty and the Apple Pie Bakery Cafe) is located in. Our friendly and knowledgeable, yet nervous, tour guide, Beryl, was a student who had enrolled in June of 2006. Being the off season, there were only three of us on the tour, which gave me the opportunity to riddle the poor boy with tons of questions, all of which he answered thoroughly. As he hopped from foot to foot and attempted to shrug off a coat he wasn’t wearing, awkward Beryl told us about the block system for scheduling and classes, and  gave us a history of the school itself. He showed us a produce class in session studying pears and elaborated on the steps each student has to go through in order to graduate. Beryl also told us how much butter they use per week in the entire institute (including at the restaurants). I’ll spare you the suspense: over 4,000 lbs. He led us past the kitchen windows of the Apple Pie Bakery Cafe and the “Mass Quantities” kitchen, as well as a slew of baking kitchens. One was working on braided breads that afternoon, another on individualized mini desserts. As we paused at one of the kitchen windows, the chef instructor spotted us and popped out of the room. “Allo! Ah you ‘ungryy?” he asked us, in a strong French accent. We all answered in the affirmative and he told us to wait right there. Ten minutes later, two students came out bearing four large slices of apple tart with dollops of creme anglaise. It was the best apple tart I’ve ever had. Total (excluding free dessert) = $5/person
• Dinner at Buttermilk Falls: The dinner at our inn was included in our package. After our fab breakfast, I had high expectations. These expectations were met…in a way. The quality of the food was top-notch, but the quantity left something to be desired. Now I understand that in America today portions are out of control, but three ravioli as a main course? Come now. The innkeepers had emailed the menu to me ahead of time and told me to respond with our choices. I had a house salad, scallop ravioli, and the apple crisp. Matt had the smoked potato soup, lamb chops with cabbage, and was supposed to have the creme brulee, but something had gone wrong with the oven so they gave him the apple crisp too. To start the meal, the innkeeper gave us a plate of toasted bread with a spicy tomato relish whose sweet tang went perfectly with a smear of butter and a sprinkle of salt. My house salad was good, but not extraordinary in any way, just some mesclun greens, bell peppers, and a honey vinaigrette (honey from their own hives). The potato soup (with potatoes from their own garden) was hearty with a nice texture, but contained perhaps a smidgen too much salt. As for my paltry ravioli, I really do wish there had been more of them. They were delicious, served in a Riesling butter sauce. The scallop appeared to have been seared before being placed whole in the ravioli. The flavors of the scallop and Riesling made the dish incomparably delicate, but the pasta managed to lend it some much needed heft. Matt had two little lamb chops with a pile of braised red cabbage and leeks. The cabbage was well seasoned and was a great side dish for the tender lamb chops, but, again, he wished there had been two (or three) more lamb chops. Crunchy from the crumb topping, tender from the cooked apples, sweet, and tart, it was one of the more well balanced apple crisps I’ve encountered. Maybe because it was slung in a mug with a big scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Day 3:

• Breakfast at the Inn: After the delicious breakfast the first morning, I was looking forward to seeing what they had to offer us the next day. French toast and scrambled eggs with havarti were on the menu, both served with chicken sausage. Now, having just written my post about scrambled eggs, I’ll admit, I was nervous about ordering the eggs, but this woman was a wonder with her spatula and pan. The eggs were just as they should be: salty, creamy, light, fluffy, and cheesy. It even inspired me to try using havarti next time, a decidedly unexpected twist. The unbelievably delicious and complexly flavored chicken sausages, split down the middle and grilled, were garlicky, crusty from the grilling, and meaty in a mild way that left no doubt as to whether the sausage was actually made from chicken or not.
• Lunch at the Apple Pie Bakery Cafe (again): We had to return to the cafe because Matt was hellbent on ordering the reuben for himself this time, but he changed his mind at the last minute. He ordered the gruyere grilled cheese and cream of tomato soup combo while I had a pizza margherita and cream of tomato soup. When our food arrived, he eagerly dove into the soup. “Well? How is it?” I asked. “It’s good! Um, it tastes like…pizza sauce.” I tried it. It indeed tasted a little like pizza sauce, but the best pizza sauce you’ve ever had. There didn’t seem to be much cream which, while unexpected, was very much appreciated after all the eating we had been doing. It was neither too tart nor too sweet, not too garlicky or too bland. I would call it one of the better tomato soups I’ve ever had with no need for any additional salt or pepper. Calling it a “cream of” soup was a bit of a stretch though. The gruyere sandwich was a pressed panini on sourdough, the same sourdough I had had the previous day in the reuben, and the same sourdough that I ultimately bought a loaf of and took home where I proceeded to make five more panini over the course of a few days (not all for me). As for the pizza, it was tasty, but nothing spectacularly special. On my way out, in addition to the loaf of sourdough, I bought my sister the “It’s not an Oreo” Oreo cookie consisting of soft, chewy, smooth chocolate cookie and impossibly thick, creamy white frosting. Total (excluding tax, bread, and cookie for sister) = $21.20

After our tour of the CIA, I popped into the gift/book shop right at the entrance to Roth Hall. In there I perused the large cookbook selection in the back, the kitchen tools they sold (everything you’d need to stock a complete kitchen from knives to pots and pans to spatulas and baking sheets), and CIA souvenirs (teddy bears dressed in chef jackets and toques). I was deciding between a CIA sweatshirt and a souvenir mug when I spotted it, what I now refer to as “the Bible,” the perfect little piece of the CIA that I could take home with me: the 8th Edition of The Professional Chef, the official CIA textbook issued to every student ($70). This tome is over 1200 pages and weighs approximately 8 lbs. Its hard cover looks like hammered copper and the pages are dotted with helpful photographs. The book details every aspect of being a professional chef from knife skills to proper equipment, from food safety to restaurant management, and includes over 600 recipes for everything from paella to the five “mother sauces” (tomato, Hollandaise, Bechamel, Veloute, and brown sauce).

The trip was a fabulous experience and I would recommend it to anyone with a spare weekend and a love of food. Although seeing the students at the CIA pursuing dreams similar to mine was painful, it only made me yearn to jump head first into the culinary industry more; not as a chef (although I almost clubbed a CIA student to steal her jacket and toque in order to pose as one), but…as something. I’ll figure it out. Until then, there’s always tours and meals at the Culinary Institute.

This past Saturday, I waited for my good friend, Zack, at Resto’s silvery bar, sipping on an ice cold Delirium Tremens as an iPod propped in the corner pumped out classic jukebox tunes. The hum of the dining room was loud and yet the overall ambiance exuded a certain relaxed energy that made me breath more evenly and taste the white, florally beer more deeply.

Okay, enough with that fluffy poetry. Zack had been bugging me to go to Resto since this summer. I told him it was far too hot to eat the heavy, pork-laden food the Times review described in May. A couple of weeks ago I received an email from Zack:

Is it cold enough for resto yet???

I replied with a resounding, YES! It was definitely cold enough to finally gorge ourselves on Resto (plus, you know, all those extra layers of clothing to hide the consequences). We went on a Saturday night. Fortunately for us, Resto finally decided to give up their reservations for parties of 6 only policy. Unfortunately for us the earliest rezzy we could procure was at 9:30pm. No matter.

As I mentioned earlier, I waited for Zack at the bar, admiring the playlist of Journey and Boston as well as the extensive variety of Belgian beers Resto offers. I ordered the Delirium Tremens out of habit of always ordering what I know so I don’t end up sitting there, stammering like an idiot, paralyzed by the paradox of choice, as the bartender waits. I really should have been more adventurous and tried something new like the Blanche de Bruxelles that Zack eventually ordered, a crisp white beer with such a clean finish that the taste disappeared from your tongue almost the minute it touched it.

To start with we had the tete de cochon (translation: pig’s head), deviled eggs, and the veal meatballs.

Blurry photo of the tete sandwiches

I wanted so much to like the tete de cochon, especially after reading all the hype about it, and perhaps they just had an off night, but I did not enjoy it. The dish is described as meat from the pig’s head spiced with curry and aioli, topped with pickles on toasted bread. What we experienced instead was very greasy, very burnt toast with bland meat and one strand of pickled carrot on it. The burnt flavor/smell was so pronounced, in fact, that when I went to put the sandwich up to my mouth to take a bite, the strong odor of burnt bread traveled up my nose, shutting down my tastebuds for the first few seconds  after taking that bite (the darkness of the bread in the picture above is not shadow). Zack wondered aloud whether the bread was purposely toasted to death. I doubted it. And yet the dish has so much promise. If only there was a little more pickle, a lot less burning…

The deviled eggs were delicious, just a shade short of over salted. Thankfully, I have a high tolerance for salt, others may not be as forgiving. Overall the dish worked very well. The creamy yolk paired perfectly with the crispy, bacon-y, greaseless pork toasts underneath.

The fantastic meatballs (”bitter ballen”) were made of veal and gruyere cheese. The breaded crust was pleasantly crunchy and the meat juicy and light as air. The tang and spice of the mustard dipping sauce helped cut through any potential heaviness of the fried meat.

We got the mussels cooked in beer with orange zest and garlic. The mussels were very sweet (natural mussel-y sweetness, not sweet from the zest), supple, and fresh, some of the better mussels I’ve had. The broth was flavorful and tasty, but wasn’t overpowered by garlic or citrus flavors.

Now we get to the burger…the burger that launched a thousand reviews. Some even call it the best in the city, which is no small praise considering the heavyweight contenders in this town (Shake Shack, Burger Joint, Corner Bistro, etc.). Resto’s burger is famous for ground fatback mixed with the beef. I suppose this must be part of the reason why they have to cook the burger to medium well/well-done, no matter what you say (so don’t bother trying). I typically like my burgers medium-rare, but this burger was sufficiently moist and tender, despite lacking even a hint of palest pink in the center. The timberdoodle cheese was creamier and more mild than a typical sharp cheddar, although they do share certain background flavors. All in all, a delicious burger, albeit a little small for the price tag ($13). Even putting price aside, I wouldn’t dare to call it the best burger in the city.

As for the fries that came with our mussels and burger, I can see why many have complained about them. They aren’t your typical crunchy French fries. They have a pleasant inner texture and a great potato flavor, but they’re fairly soft with only a slightly crisp outer layer, rather than actually being crispy through and through. The softness wasn’t greasy or limp though, so I enjoyed them. Most Belgian-style frites aren’t really fast food crunchy anyway. The frites that came with the mussels included a sauce of your choice. We had the pickle mayo, which had a decidedly pronounced lime-y flavor, a very different, pleasantly unexpected taste. It balanced well with the fat in the mayonnaise. Again, perhaps others wouldn’t enjoy the strong tartness of the sauce. I happen to love acidic flavors.

The liege (classically Belgian) waffle we ordered for dessert sounded great in theory. Covered in brown sugar and toasted to caramelize it, the waffle is dusted with powdered sugar and served with a small bowl of vanilla creme fraiche. The waffle that was set before us was hard and tough, like a waffle that had grown stale, been frozen, then partially thawed, and then toasted…and then cloaked in cement. The creme fraiche helped mask the terrible texture and I was able to actually swallow a couple of mouthfuls when suddenly I took a bite and nearly gagged. The bite I had taken tasted exactly like bacon…and nothing else. I made a face which quickly prompted Zack to ask what was wrong. I struggled to get the salty bite down before eeking out, “it tastes like pork.” None of his pieces tasted like any pork products, but neither of us were able to finish even half of the waffle either.

And it looked so pretty and promising too…

To all those who plan on visiting Resto, I would recommend you order very carefully. And while there were some minor disasters (the tete de cochon, waffle), there were also some notable highlights (bitter ballen, the deviled eggs) and I’ve never been one to completely write a restaurant off because there are some dishes on its menu that I don’t enjoy or that aren’t done well. The service was professional, but casual, the ambiance lovely, and the beer selection impressive. Why would I let a salty waffle and a burnt sandwich get in the way of that? It’s not like I’ll be forced to order them the next time I return. And I will be returning soon…just not that soon.

• Tete de Cochon - $12
• Bitter Ballen - $9
• Deviled Eggs - $8
• Moule Frites- $18
• Cheeseburger - $13
• Liege Waffle - $6
• Delirium Tremens - $9
• Blanche de Bruxelles - $8
• Total (excluding tax and tip) = $83

I actually had a low key Friday evening to myself for the first time in a looooong time. No frantic Christmas shopping, no holiday parties, no family dinners, just me, Moo Shu, a slew of Monk reruns on DVR, and a big bag of clams in the fridge. I cooked up some spaghetti with clams, a quick and easy standby, perfect for when I want to cook without thinking. It came out better than ever.

I suppose my whole not-caring-much nonchalance added that little bit of magic needed to raise the dish to a new level. Like that guy that only likes the girls who play hard to get…maybe.

Spaghetti with Clams

Serves 2-3.

3/4 lb. spaghetti (linguine or angel hair would work too)
18 littleneck clams, rinsed and scrubbed (cockles and cherry stones work well too, just be aware of the change in cooking time as cockles are much smaller than littlenecks and cherry stones are larger)
4 cloves of garlic, chopped
1 tbs. parsley, chopped
2 tsp. lemon zest
4 ½ tbs. lemon juice
2 tbs. unsalted butter
3 ½ tbs. extra virgin olive oil
2 pinches red chili flakes
Salt and pepper

• Heat a deep sautee pan over a medium high heat. Add 1 tbs. of the butter into the pan along with 1 tb. of olive oil.
• After the butter has melted and the oil has heated (about 2 minutes), put the garlic in the pan and sautee it for about 1 minute or until cooked and lightly brown. Add the red chili flakes.
• Cook the pasta according to the instructions on the package in a pot of boiling, well salted water. A few seconds before you drain the pasta, carefully reserve 3/4 cup of the water. Set aside for later.
• At this point, add the clams and 1 tbs. of lemon juice to the pan. Stir the clams around and lower the heat to low. Cover the pan and allow the clams to steam open. This should take approximately 9 minutes. Check back after the first 7 minutes though, just to make sure you don’t end up over cooking them and making them rubbery.
• Once the clams are cooked,  check the clams for any that are unopen. Now don’t go nuts and start tossing half the clams out if they aren’t open. They’re probably just not done cooking yet. They won’t all cook at exactly the same second. If you see a bunch (more than 4) unopened, give them another minute. You may wind up with no unopen clams at the end or there may be one or two. These are the ones that were dead to begin with. Do not, I REPEAT, do not pry them open, you little cheapskate. Let them go. Toss them. Your digestive tract will thank you.
• Add the cooked spaghetti to the pan. Stir it all rigorously to mix the sauce, clams, and pasta. Turn off the heat.
• At this point, add the 3 remaining tbs. of lemon juice, the lemon zest, cracked black pepper, 1/2 cup of the reserved water, the other 1 tbs. of butter, the other 2 ½ tbs. of olive oil, and about 2 tsp. (like two really big pinches) salt. Toss the pasta once more. The strands should be glossy from the sauce, but there shouldn’t be so much liquid that it completely floods the bottom of the pan. There should just be a thin film of it on the bottom (see photo below). Taste the pasta for seasoning. Add more salt, pepper, or chili flakes if necessary.
• Garnish with parsley and serve with a small bowl for the clam shells.

See that? Just a wee bit of sauce at the bottom with the strands all glossy and ready for their closeup

This is a big thanks to the folks over at Only-Cookware.com for featuring AfterTaste (by Sherry) as their Blog of the Week! I was at work late tonight, researching a needle in a haystack when I got the pingback notice via email and saw the post they wrote about this wee little blog. As I read it, I slowly clamped my hand over my mouth, wide-eyed and grinning ear to ear. It truly made my day. Thanks, guys, I appreciate it so much.

Check out the Blog of the Week post here:

http://www.only-cookware.com/blog/2008/01/03/after-taste-by-sherry-blog-of-the-week/

*Doing little victory dance with butt high in air*

Aside from receiving gifts, seeing family, and gorging myself on lavish dinners, one of my favorite things about the holiday season are the family and friends who crash at my apartment, giving me an excuse to make big, hearty breakfasts. My sister’s speciality is pancakes. Mine is eggs, scrambled eggs to be specific. Too often when I think of scrambled eggs I imagine hard, dense, cake-like mounds of dry, overcooked eggs served in some type of buffet warmer. I’m not sure why. It must be all those summer camp and college cafeteria breakfasts. They were enough to make me a devoted sunny-side up girl until I began making eggs myself. Now the only time I eat scrambled eggs is in my own home. That might sound obnoxious, but I’ve just had too many badly scrambled eggs to trust others. OKAY. Maybe these aren’t the “best,” but they’re pretty damn good.

Much more important than the ingredients are the technique and timing. So here’s my recipe for the fluffiest, cheesiest, most delicious scrambled eggs.

Cheesy Scrambled Eggs

Serves 4.

8 large eggs or 7 extra large eggs
1/2 cup whole milk or heavy cream
1 tsp. dried oregano, crushed in palm
2 tsp. garlic powder
1-2 pinches red chili flakes
3 tb. unsalted butter
2 big pinches salt
1/2 cup American cheese/cheddar cheese/monterey jack/goat cheese, diced/grated/crumbled
2 tsp. chives, chopped
Freshly ground black pepper

• Take the butter out of the fridge to allow it to soften.
• Crack eggs into a large mixing bowl and begin whisking them. Add milk, salt, pepper, garlic powder, dried oregano, and chili flakes and whisk until everything is thoroughly mixed. Add most of the cheese (reserve a small palmful) and gently mix the eggs until the cheese is well distributed.
• Heat a frying pan over medium heat and add the butter to the pan. After about 5 minutes all the butter should be melted and slightly foamy and the pan should be ready. Test the heat by dribbling a droplet of the egg mixture into the pan. The egg should turn opaque upon contact and cook in literally 2 seconds.
• Lower the heat to a medium-low heat. Pour the egg-cheese mixture into the pan and immediately begin stirring the eggs in the pan in a circular motion with a rubber or wooden spatula (so you don’t scratch up your pan as you scrape the bottom). Make sure, as you stir, that you stir up any egg that cooks and sticks on the sides or on the bottom of the pan. Keep everything moving slowly, gently, and steadily.
• After about 4 minutes (the cooking process is very, very quick), the eggs should look just a smidgen under cooked. At this point, turn off the heat, but continue stirring. The eggs will continue to cook some more.
• Sprinkle the rest of the cheese on top of the eggs. Garnish with the chives.
• Serve with toast, sausage, bacon, and juice!

You can easily change things up and make a million variations on this basic recipe. Add fresh herbs like parsley and dill to the egg mixture or fresh chopped tomatoes at the end. I”ve also added crumbled bacon or chopped breakfast sausage into the raw egg mixture.