Pumpkin Lover

Oh, man. This is what happens every Thanksgiving. My family is very close with an Italian family that has roots in Abruzzi, specifically the town of Colledimezzo. The matriach of the family (born, raised, and gave birth to all her children in Italy before coming to America), will make lasagne, or pasta al forno as the first course. The first course for Thanksgiving dinner. Just imagine what all is served during an Italian Thanksgiving, and you'll know how much food is served. Yet, we are always served the lasagne first, a gigantic serving, no matter how hard you try to control the size of your serving. I could live the rest of my life on that lasagne--soft, green noodles, bechamele dripping down the sides. I can taste it right now. Unfortunately, by the time I finish my lasagne on Thanksgiving, I can barely taste (and eat) anything afterwards! If anyone has had the red "punch" that comes from Abruzzi, then you'll about its healing powers. I usually only have it during Thanksgiving. Also, as much as I love my Italian grandmother's pasta al forno, my Indian mother's lasagne--a good, Southern Italian/Italian-American one--is the absolute best in the world.

I agree with johnnyd: I've read in different places (wish I could quote them) that 30 minutes of rigorous exercise really helps to alleviate depression, or just the blues. Believe me, it works: running 2 miles or taking a walk in the park always helps me out. That being said: sushi, soup (butternut squash, tomato, corn chowder), grilled cheese sandwiches. The morning after 9/11, I had a grilled cheese for breakfast. It worked wonders to lift my mood.

Edit! http://www.jesusfun.com/hhhterms.htm I know there's another dictionary out there... Edit #2! Here is it: http://www.rapdict.org/

Oh yeah. This is gonna be gooooooooooood. Thanks, Boris! Edit: Forgot to include some new slang. Fo' shaganoff = for sure, yes. Obnox = Obnoxious Riddick = Ridiculous GT = Good times RT = Rough times Totes = Totally Poison = the police Son = used to address someone if he/she is doing something silly or stupid. "You need to stop doing that, son, knomesay." Knomesay = Do you know what I am saying? I'll think of more, fo' shaganoff.

It's not that bad. The security precautions on the website are a little overblown; I almost always have my work tote bag with me (it's huge) or my small purse, and I carry a bottle of water with me everywhere. They always see it, no biggie. There are people who bring food--I'm sure a lot of them hide it in tote bags and such--but I have seen people needing to switch their food from whatever they're carrying to clear plastic bags that security provides. Don't know what it's for, and don't know if you have to pay for it. I don't think you have to, though.

Mongo, Kali Urad!

Including that quote in the review captured the spirit of Megu that Bruni was getting at. Not only did that passage make me laugh (hard), but it was clever to include it as a tool for explaning himself. Nice job, I dug the review.

Excellent point, Mong, excellent, excellent. Your dal was the picture that excited me the most last night. Looked exactly like my mom's dal. That's comfort food right there, that is.

No, I think the takana and soba miso were mixed together. The waitress initially mentioned that the pickle had miso and buckwheat in it, as torakris said. Then, she went into the kitchen, came back out, and told us that it was soba miso with takana. It had the look of the takana leaves that you (Hiroyuki) posted, so I assume that it was soba miso mixed with takana. So, it doesn't seem that soba miso with takana is a traditional pickle, if the experts haven't seen it! Oh, man. You guys should try it, though: it's really good with fish!

Oh, Hiroyuki! On that site you posted, the pickle I had looked almost exactly like the stuff on the right. It didn't look like the jellified stuff that torakris mentioned (thank you, though, Kristin!). It was greenish, and it looked like it might have had bean sprouts (although that's just a guess). Is there any way I could order that stuff? THANKS, Hiroyuki! Yay!

That's basically why I like this type of food. I ate rice and curry and good veggies and all that every day of my childhood, and while my health is pretty great because of that kind of food, I still get a hankering for some good ol' salty-ass Kraft Mac and Cheese. It just can't be replicated. Except when I make Cheeseburger Helper! (which I will make again, when it comes on sale).

Mongo's got a digital camera. Awwwwww yeeeah. Let's see some of those Indo-American dishes this week, aight?

From an American perspective, I love Milo because of the slight malt flavor (...there is malt in it, right?) I never found the flavor to be exactly like chocolate: Milo was different from hot chocolate, and it was an alternative to the super-sweet Hershey's syrup that I'd use for cold chocolate milk, and the Swiss Miss I'd use for hot chocolate. That being said, when I was in Malaysia as a youngster (this was back in '94 for a summer), all I drank was ais Milo, because it was everywhere, and my family would just order it immediately for all us kids. We'd drink tea at tea time, but with meals and any other time, we'd drink Milo. It was a way to get us to drink milk, I think, but it's just so popular with kids over there, and it's an alternative to tea and soda and whatnot. As to the milk issues (powdered vs. fresh), I'm not sure, but all I can say is that Milo is huge with kids. They even have Milo box drinks. Man, I need to get back to Malaysia! Ah, one question: I say Milo like mill-oh. Others say my-lo. What's the correct pronunciation?

That's what the waitress told us at Soba-ya, my favorite soba restaurant in NYC. My friends and I had ordered an appetizer of broiled cod, and on the side of the plate was a small pile of pickle. We tried the pickle on its own, before tasting the cod, and didn't think too much of it. But, after we had eaten the cod and had some salt in our mouths, we tasted the pickle again, and we were blown away! Our waitress told us that the pickle was called Soba Miso with Takana. Whenever I try to Google soba miso, I get soup and noodle recipes. Please, someone tell me about this pickle! Can I buy it in America, or can I have it shipped from Japan? Where in Japan is it made, and what is usually served with it? Also, what other kinds of traditional Japanese pickles are out there? Curious minds need to know. Thanks!

Aw man. I just made Cheeseburger Helper last week--my family had gotten a box and wanted to try it. I thought it was, like, Kraft Super Mac and Cheese. I loved it.

Lychee daiquiris and mojitos at Angel's Share. After a few of those, any food presented to me will be my favorite.

WHAT?! Did I miss something?! Edit to add: Great blog, Adox!

I kinda sorta hit upon these points when I posted about Amma, but it's interesting to hear from you, Mongo, that presenting different regional cuisines within India itself would be considered "new." I wrote about how that kind of presentation would be "new" in America, and it was, and that's why Amma's presence was and is so important for Indian cuisine in America. But, it's interesting to see that presenting all types of regional cuisines within India itself would be innovative as well. It's something I didn't consider. Do you guys think that some Indians in India, or out of it, who choose to think about this topic would be bothered by the word "new" if they were presented with a cuisine that contained elements of their own region's cooking? Would a Madrasi get up in arms if s/he ordered an idly with Manchurian cauliflower and someone called it "New Indian"? I wonder what the reaction would be like.

Sigh. I'm at a desk without Lexis-Nexis. In any case, I'd like to note that Mark Bittman, either last year or the year before, did a lovely travel piece in the Times about restaurants in New Delhi. As Tarka said in disagreeing with Jinmyo, there *is* a definite, strong, and flourishing restaurant culture in India. Just as chefs in America try to improve and create new ideas upon old ideas of "American" or "New World" or "Mediterranean" or "whatever" cuisine, chefs in India are doing the same to their home cuisine. I can't remember if Jeffrey Steingarten hit upon these points in his Vogue piece on North Indian vegetarian cuisine. Sorry if this has been said before. Also, please read this wonderful article by Monica Bhinde in the Wash Post. It's about food served during a Hindu wedding celebration. She mentions the cuisines served: Swiss, Italian, Japanese, Continental, Mongolian, etc. She states, "The rush to the Teppanyaki cooking station with grilled Japanese food and the salad bar with more than 20 types of salads cued me into what was hot that night." I wonder how Indians would know and love this kind of food if it did not exist in some kind of restaurant culture in India. As well, there are obviously tons of new ideas and influences hitting India now, thus influencing what some of the posters here are calling "New Indian" cuisine. Like others, I hesistate to label the phenomenon of the development of Indian cuisine by that name, but ya know, whatever floats your boat. One more thing, and I don't mean to poke a dead horse, but: in re-reading Mongo's posts, I sense a cultural gulf between Westerners who are analyzing this phenomenon of "New Indian" cuisine, and Indians or diasporic Indians (like me) who are doing the same. As Mongo stated in one of his posts, the dishes served at the Tabla dinner, while new to an American diner, are familiar or traditional to Indian diners (for example, when I went to Amma with a Bengali friend, she noted that the cauliflower was exactly like a dish she could eat in Bengal). Amma's focus on regional Indian cuisine was new and huge in America--it broke down India on a plate in a way that restaurants in the US haven't done before. Now, there were flavors and combinations that I wasn't familiar with when I ate at Amma. But, for my Bengali friend to tell me that the cauliflower was familiar to her was interesting. I was eating something new, and she was eating something old or familiar. I think that that is what is happening with this "New Indian" stuff right now. Some of the ideas that are considered "new" in this cuisine may actually be regional and also unknown to the American palate. Thus, it's "new." But, for Indians, it may not be so new at all, and when we're all trying to label cuisines and ideas with just one or two words, we need to consider who exactly we're talking to. Dang. Sorry about all that. BTW, FG, I'm jealous. You made Jaffrey's shrimp sound like heaven. Edited to add a parenthetical insert

Small question: does Bruni really, really like small paragraphs (like, 2 sentences or less), or does it look that way because I'm reading it online and there are a ton of line breaks? I liked the content of the review, but not the stop-and-start paragraph breaks.

This picture is absolutely amazing, BTW. It kills me softly with its song. Oh mah gah.

Bleu is blogging again! YES! ::dances with joy:: You're right about the phenomenon of losing weight quickly on a diet when you have pounds to lose. My BF started a diet of his own making around the beginning of the year (I vaguely recall late January or February, but I'll say he's been on it for five months). It's a no-dairy diet; he loves anything dairy. By cutting down on dairy, reducing his intake of all other animal fats except chicken, and eating more veggies and rice (and hardly any refined flour or sugar), he's lost something like 20 lbs. So, it looks like you are on a path to guaranteed success, Bleu!

Nessa: awesome blog!! The Aloo makes me yearn for my mom's food. Is there any chance that you can post the recipe for the soup you made with the chicken legs and chipotle in the recipe archive? It looks amazing!

Do any of the restaurant supply stores on the Bowery sharpen knives? I'm not sure, but if you're near the 6 train, it'd be a hop, skip, and jump to get to one of those places. Hopefully someone will answer my question...

Bringing up service again: I ate at the restaurant a couple weeks ago, after having made a reservation a month in advance. Being a New Yorker who is familiar with the popularity deal at Balthazar, I knew to make that reservation. I wonder who is trying to come into the restaurant to snag a table without a reservation? Tourists? Or randoms who are trying to land a lucky break? It seems to me that if you're someone who is not familiar with the reputation that Balthazar has, as far as getting a table, then you are definitely going to annoy the maitre d'hotel. I don't quite see why the maitre d'hotel having an attitude problem is a problem in the first place. If you don't have a reservation, then you're screwed; as a comparison, I don't think I would ever try going into Babbo without a reservation (and I've never eaten there, so I don't know what their maitre d'hotel's attitude is like). If you're familiar with the situation that you'll have to make a reservation, then I think it's not quite fair to dump on the maitre d'hotel for not letting people grab tables at the snap of a finger. With that being said (and I know this isn't a hip suggestion): if you want to eat a leisurely dinner at Balthazar, make the reservation early. My family and I ate at 6:30, and we stayed until 9, 9:15, something like that. We had ordered a seafood plateau, and we weren't sure if we would order entrees afterwards (we had no idea if it would fill us up or not), and the waiter had no problem letting us order entrees after eating the plateau. We had plenty of time, we did not feel rushed: it was wonderful. I had posted about Balthazar on a graduation dinner thread, and I just want to add: if you ever travel with a handicapped person, then Balthazar is really accomodating. We had an amazing SoHo moment as we were leaving the restaurant: there was a huge group of people waiting to get tables at the front of the house, and as we rolled my mom out of the restaurant, our waiter and another guy ran to the doors, threw themselves in the middle of the crowd, and parted the way for my mom. It was as grand as Moses parting the Red Sea, and the looks on the faces of those people being moved aside for my mom were, of course, not very nice, but in the words of Eric Cartman: screw those guys, we were going home. Service, obviously, was not a problem at all.