babyluck

Just found this recipe for a soup w/ chestnuts & celery root--good starting point to play with, with chestnuts in the freezer & an abiding love for celery root... too bad I lost that damn plug that lets you make foam without making espresso...

Just you.

I agree. My mom always said the same thing about the TV newspeople & voiceover actors, except she said the locales with no accents were NJ & parts of California. Of course, there's the whole Jersey City-influenced northern NJ thing. My mom (from Cranford) has just a trace of it when she says words like "ball"--kind of like "boo-ul." Growing up in the country, I didn't pick it up. Always thought it was super-boring not to have an accent and tried to copy other peoples'. But folks who are not from NJ never know this about us--they refuse to believe I'm from here, saying, "but you don't have an accent!"

I was proud to see Maresca's in Sergeantsville featured in Saveur this month--especially since I read a line unheard of in NJ about how Sergeantsville is intentionally curbing the tide of development (read: condos). This is all I can find on them online. If you have trouble locating Sergeantsville, it's near Flemington. I now live near John's in Scotch Plains--hardly south/central NJ, but I agree they're very good. Kind of expensive, though, don't you think? Maybe I'm just used to country prices. What is English bacon? I saw somewhere that it is the same as Canadian bacon--true?

Ugh. My worst experience was at the Sea Grill a few years ago. I think they were doing construction and the trek to the bathroom required going across a few streets and down into the bowels of Rockefeller Center. It was one of those standard prewar NYC public bathrooms--pulsing with green flourescent lights and permanently grimed. The place was a ghost town and the only soul around was the attendant, who sat dumb and fat on a creaky wooden chair. I think she was sleeping when I emerged from the stall, because I had to repeatedly pump the numerous soap dispensers--all empty--before she started and pulled out a styrofoam cup full of that thick pink hand soap. She poured about a half-cup of it into my hands and waited until I had my hands good & soapy before going back to sleep, leaving me to attempt to turn on the faucet. I did so, soaping it in the process, and could only get a cold trickle to come out. I held my hands under it in a vain attempt to wash off the coating of perfumey, lotiony soap, thwarted when I resoaped myself while turning the water off. No paper towels anywhere to be seen. She woke up again to raise an eyebrow and shove her tip bucket at me on my way out.

Thanks for the support. But here's the secret that keeps me from going completely postal: they'll be in my novels someday. Heh-heh-heh. I've been neglecting this thread -- wanted to be diligent for my own records if nothing else, so here's what I missed: Last Thursday: Ack! Had visitors in from France. H makes the mistake of going into the meeting & asking what they're doing for lunch & gets slapped with the job of arranging it. Boss wants to go to Santa Lucia. H tells her it's not there anymore (a shame; I loved that place) and she thinks there's a Chinese pizza place there instead but doesn't know if it's open yet. Boss says, inexplicably, "Well, that would be fun!!" and says if it doesn't work out to order sandwiches because she absolutely doesn't want to go further and Steve's Lunch is on the outs since G claims he got sick from the bbq wrap -- all 3 times he ordered it! Anyway, H can't get a phone number for the new Santa Lucia's anywhere. Thinks it's called "Mr. Pang's Pizza." An hour goes by. H is pleading for someone to take the responsibility away from her. Calls Frank aka Ralpho and tells him we're not ordering from him but if he knows what the pizza place is that used to be Santa Lucia. Not surprisingly, he doesn't help. E offers to drive down and check it out, but is upset when we take her up on the offer. Calls from her cell to tell us it's called "Ping Pong Pizza" and opens at 4. Wonder if it is a night club featuring ping pong and pizza. We are all low on blood sugar and getting zany. I tell H to call Ralpho back & order the sandwich platter. Tells us to give him a good 20 minutes. We do, and when we arrive he wants 4 more minutes. Ask him if he takes credit cards (d'oh! pizza places never do) and he says no. No problem, there's an ATM next door at the minimart. Next door at the minimart: "do you have an ATM?" "No, bank is one block that way." One block turns into 5 and a good 12 minutes later we're back at Ralpho's. He dillydallies over plates, forks, etc., and my cell rings. It's my little boss G, or my N+1. "Where are you?" Grit teeth and say, "at Ralpho's picking up the food." "Awwww," he says, petulant, "but we wanted to take everyone out to eat!" I look at poor Ralpho -- sorry, Frank -- dithering over how to cut our bread and think "there's no way you're getting me to cancel this order." I talk him down until he's convinced that a sandwich platter from Ralpho's would be just the thing. We get back to the office around 2. The French are impressed with Frank's homemade bread -- score! -- and the mesclun salad is pretty great. I have 2 roast beef-and-provolone sandwiches with salad on top and some Coke. Friday: I slice plain & 1 slice sausage pizza at the office Halloween party. Coke. Yesterday: Sausage & peppers & baked ziti from Theo's & a Cherry Coke. Pretty good. Today: Leftovers from yesterday plus 2 slices of E's bread from Villagio's & a can of Coke. I have to admit their bread is better than Ralpho's. E didn't want to give me any because she was annoyed I was using the microwave since she thought she was the only one who had to heat up food. P.S. The latest word is that it's called "Ping Pang Pizza" and no one knows whether it's Chinese or if it has anything to do with Ping Pong or why it doesn't open until 4 PM. I've been eating way too much Italian lately. Tomorrow I'll have to go down to the cafeteria (Puerto Rican food). I've been neglecting it. Got to work on my bean tolerance.

OK, I'm a complete ass. Don't know how I missed the big ol' OFFICE logo on the menus at the Jolly Trolley. Went to the real Office in Summit the other night (extenuating circumstances) and the menu looked awfully familiar. The chicken parm wasn't nearly as good, though.

Leftover cream of fennel soup (from James Peterson's Vegetables), the rest of yesterday's Italian sub, and a Coke. Coworker E got a pot pie from Boston Market & I was actually quite jealous. Hmph.

It is published in the Hemingway Cookbook, which I own (and adore), but luckily is online right now since Michael Palin just did a Hemingway jaunt. Here's the link. Does that sound like what you had?

1. Wise choice. Not that it was bad. I forgot to mention that the restaurant was about half full -- pretty good for a new place in Garwood on a very rainy Monday night. Do you know when they opened? 2. I was 4 when it came out. I wasn't shocked at all!

Italian sub, Pringles (plain), and Vanilla Coke from Theo's.

Sorry, I don't remember Matter's/Motter's as I've only been in the area for 7 years, but my mom might -- I'm sure someone here will too. We did go to Robert's last night and it was OK -- perfectly enjoyable, but mostly due to Mr. B's good mood after finishing the movie, I think. I found it a little uppity but the facade was so transparent that it was easy to ignore, if you know what I mean. The hostess was a real pro but the servers were high school/college kids who had been told exactly what to say (like "your such-and-such is coming right out," which we took good-naturedly as a guarantee it would not appear for a while). Along the lines of the restaurant pet peeves thread, my water glass remained empty for about 15 minutes, and when the nervous bread girl brought the salad, she said "oh! you need more bread!," we said yes, but it never came. I was hoping it would be one of those mashed/baked/fried places -- I've been daydreaming about steak with creamed spinach and mashed potatoes. The menu said nothing about sides -- it wasn't written that they came with the steak, and there were no a la carte selections. I found out when I asked the server -- they rotate potato/veg selections so everyone gets the same thing on a given day. Yesterday was roasted fingerling potatoes & asparagus. Mr. B ordered the grilled Caesar salad & the Cowboy steak; I ordered the NY strip with mushroom demi-glace (one of the 3 sauces they offer for $2 extra -- I think the other 2 were both creamy; I remember one having Gorgonzola). I feel like a real hillbilly 'cuz I'd never seen a grilled Caesar salad before -- I thought it was a little show-offy but delicious. Hey, for a splurge night, why not have your salad served ON garlic bread? We agreed the steaks were neither the best nor worst we'd ever had -- just what we expected. The potatoes & asparagus were OK; the demi-glace was pretty good. The Guinness was good, but came in an awfully small glass. I didn't check the price, though. Steaks were normally priced for a place like that ($18-$27 or so with sides). To tell you the truth, it's just the slightly pretentious kind of place that I have been dragged to by many a salesperson who thinks it's oh-so-divine and thinks they're getting "special" service, but I didn't hate it. The northern NJ-Italian accent on the nice hostess helped, I think. Next time (yes, I'm sure we'll go back but not for a few months) we will probably go for one of the smoking booths by the bar -- looked cozier & more casual. We declined dessert, drove to Quik Chek, and each picked out our own pint of Ben & Jerry's. He got Peanut Butter Cup & I got Heath Bar Crunch. Ate them on the couch watching the first Star Trek movie. All in all, a very successful celebration dinner.

Brought leftover Singapore Chow Mei Fun but had a beef/salt/fried food craving so I went to Steve's Lunch and got my usual: cheese steak (with mushrooms this time -- will have to keep doing that), fries that were fresh out of the fryer (a rarity) with gravy on the side and to drink, 2/3 Pepsi & 1/3 Boylan's Black Cherry. The first time I've eaten the whole thing in one sitting.

A new, delicious discovery based on the Danish smorrebrod known as "The Electrician's Supper:" Leftover pork chops, sliced thin Caramelized onions Sautéed sliced apples (I threw the already caramelized onions w/ some of their juice in the pan with them) Mustard vinaigrette on a baguette buttered with Lurpak Yum. All the elements are pretty traditional except that the onions are usually quickly sautéed with the apple, and of course the bread is usually that thin, dark, dense stuff. I like a lot of bread, so I went with the French bread -- Danes eat that too, at breakfast usually, and the butter was Danish, so there! Another variation is to use leftover pork gravy instead of the vinaigrette.

Yes, that's a little far. We've been to the branches in North Brunswick & Hoboken with family and have always been pleased, though. I just called Robert's in Garwood (908.232.5204) and they are open for business and open today (Monday). We may not make it tonight -- our only free night together for a while -- but it's good to know! Smells good driving by.

Thanks! I somehow missed those. This Mexican thing just came on suddenly -- I'm a little schizo with my obsessions. Englewood is doable for me during lunch, and the mole & tamales sound very enticing. I am craving tamales so hard I was going to start making my own.

Thanks, guys -- I do feel better now.

This one's a whopper. Long, but please read and commiserate. I need you guys, 'cuz after today's lunch I'm a little postal. In fact, I was thinking of making it its own thread called "What's that smell?" but it fits here perfectly. Background info part 1: I work for a big corporation in one of those strange leased office spaces that came with one of our many acquisitions. My coworkers are all either unwilling transplants or the bitter few left over from said acquisition. I think it's safe to say I'm the only one who feels lucky to be on a dead end street on the wrong side of the tracks in Bergen County, culinary capital of NJ. I'm also very lucky that the founders of this site happen to be from around here. I never would have known the depth of it on my own. But my lunch experiences are mixed -- once in a while I head over to Han ah Reum for a little shopping and lunch at the food court, but a lot of the time -- hard as it is to admit -- I feel the need for human interaction so I'm stuck compromising with my often delightful but small-minded colleagues. Part 2: A few weeks ago, coworker H needed to go to her bank in Cliffside Park and P came along too. Not having time to fully research our options, I played it by ear. Pointed out a cute, innocent-looking place with red gingham curtains and signs advertising a strange mix of cuisines -- I think Italian, Middle Eastern and a third I forget. We went inside and got queer glances from the staff -- no menu in sight and no food on display. There were a few aisles of groceries, so we ducked down one to discuss. H looks like she's going to pass out. "What?" I ask. "The smell, the smell..." she whines. P concurs. I'm thinking, you people are cracked -- I don't smell anything -- but I'm unimpressed by the place and agree to leave. Spot another innocuous-looking place across the street -- the California Grill. I throw out any notion of getting anything interesting to eat to placate the bitches. So we go in. There's a couple of things written on the board in Portuguese. The owner offers us menus. Hmm, Italian. Four pages of Italian deli and pasta items, plus burgers & stuff. In a place run by Brazilians called the California Grill. We order: me, grilled chicken w/ mozz & arugula, H gets a cheese steak, P a tuna melt I think. Out of earshot of the staff, I joke to H "does it smell OK in here?" She grimaces. "No, it's worse." P again concurs as if I'm an idiot not to notice it. Let me tell you, I have the best sense of smell out of anyone I know and I smelled nothing. A Brazilian family gets their order before ours, and it looks unItalian. H & P are griping about the roaches they imagine are everywhere and the slow service. I'm thinking "of course, we ordered off the gringo menu." When our food arrives, my sandwich is delicious and the ingredients really fresh. I ask H how her cheese steak is. "It's disgusting." OK. I give up. I concluded that perhaps I have been exposed to more smells in my life than they have and that they associate certain unfamiliar smells with horrid cultural stereotypes, where I might find them pleasant or unnoticeable. Their sense of entitlement and inane stuck-up comments made me sick. I was spitting mad the rest of the day. I don't understand how these people go through life without getting their asses kicked. Part 3: Big P. She's a semi-bigwig with a chip on her shoulder. Always calling the General Manager to complain about people pissing on the seats or not throwing away their old food from the fridge in the breakroom. I have caught her more than once throwing out almost the entire contents of the fridge, including a jar of pickles (mine) -- "ugh, who would keep pickles in here; they must be bad," and a large, brand-new bottle of non-dairy creamer. You know, the stuff that NEVER goes bad. She gets almost orgasmic while she's doing it and takes no notice of objections, like my not-so-subtle "Hey, those are my fucking pickles." Today: They decide to order pizza from Ralpho's. Not doing that again. It's Han ah Reum for me. I wander aimlessly around the mall looking for an anniversary gift for my parents. Too hungry to think straight. I go to the food court and order Noodle Soup, Korean Style (A3), to go this time 'cuz I can never finish their huge portions -- they will wrap up leftovers for you, but I always end up being late back to the office. I buy a couple things from the supermarket and head back. A quart of broth, a huge foil container of noodles & fixings with kimchee and extra kimchee & chili sauce on the side. I'm alone in the breakroom. I start opening the containers. Smells delicious. I'm idly wondering if I should take home the leftovers or leave them for next week. This could feed me for 2 or 3 days. Decide to take it home lest Big P starts sniffing 'round the fridge. Enter Big P. "DON'T YOU SMELL THAT?" she is yelling? "What?" "That smell; it's disgusting..." "It's my lunch," I say defiantly. "No," she says, "it couldn't be -- we can smell it all the way down the hall." She gets closer to me, sniffing all the time. "Maybe..." I hear her randomly yelling around the building. One of her reports comes in making a face and sniffing. I know she's been sent in here to smell me. I'm starting to enjoy my meal a little less. Next comes the GM. "Big P asked me to investigate the odor. Do you smell something? I have a cold, so I can't smell anything." I say, "I told her -- it's my lunch." He appears not to hear me and leans in to sniff me. "Did you take a shower this morning?" he asks me. "Yes," I say, "did you?" He colors and says he was just kidding and leaves. I pack up my lunch. I've decided it's definitely best if I put my leftovers in my car immediately (don't worry, it's cold here). I'm telling myself that if I hurry, I can get outside for a smoke before anyone else sniffs me. Enter Big P. She stalks in and circles me for a while before smelling me again. "I think it's your lunch," she says. "That's disgusting." I stare at her. She leaves. I walk out of the break room a minute or so later -- into a cloud of Lysol. That's right. She fucking Lysoled me.

Yesterday: Tried out a new pizza place with the girls: Ralph-O's. Had to intervene when they whined "let's just go to brick oven..." -- I am so sick of that place. Proprietor is eager ("hey girls, where do you work? really? so you're on your lunch hour then? we make our own bread here fresh every day. we do party platters...") H asks him if he's Ralph. No, he bought it from Ralph. He is Frank but lets people call him Ralph. He lacks the gruff nonchalance of your usual pizzeria owner. Nice, but a little too much. We order a large pie (half sausage, half plain) and get a free order of baked ziti along with fresh bread. Everything is undercooked and the ziti is a little soapy. Probably he's worried we'll get impatient and pulls it out of the oven early, but the pies he has out under glass look the same. They are covered with plastic wrap. First time I've seen that. Guess it's more hygenic but it makes me wonder how much business he does. Stay tuned to find out if babyluck eats the leftover soapy ziti for lunch today or gets Korean...

Take a gander at this baby. Pumpkin. Cream. Butter. Ginger. Cayenne. Figs. Dark Rum. Cream. And even a sprinkle of pork. (Where's the ecstacy smiley?) Tonight I'm going to do something with the duxelles I made last week in the slow cooker. Hmmm...

Coworker H's uneaten lunch from yesterday (her description): "FRESH turkey and some nice provolone cheese on a FRESH whole wheat baguette -- I got it from FRESH DIRECT!" It was all fresh two days ago, but still pretty good after I scraped off the congealed mayo and toasted the bun and cheese in the new exciting addition to our break room: The Magnificent Toaster Oven. A few Ridges sour-cream-and-onion chips -- too much flavor dust. Can of Coke. A few spoonfuls of my carrot-ginger soup circa at least a week ago that I found in the fridge. Passed on the FRESH strawberries -- everyone who tasted one grimaced -- and mini Oreos.

My personal favorite is my signature dish inspired by a recipe from Bon Appetit in the early 90s -- celery root bisque. Not on epicurious, but you can find it in the forums there if you do a search. Then there's my dad's fish chowder and the potato soup from the original Vegetarian Epicure. (Sautéed onions, potatoes, dill, water, milk.) Recently have gotten into carroty soups inspired by Potage Crecy. Have done the original plus a carrot-ginger soup with spinach. Yum. Very versatile as a first course. Have tried many other new recipes this season but no others have made it into the rotation. Always on the lookout for new ideas! I like to serve the celery root bisque with a smoked fish spread and sparkling wine. That is the suggestion I've heard the most often for avoiding the dullness of liquid + liquid. I have read that soup coats the palate and sticks around longer than solid foods so the wine gets lost. I guess the bubbles scrub the palate & also provide a textural contrast. (I feel like I'm regurgitating that sentence directly from Taste -- could be, I've reread it so often...) But I will also often drink whatever wine I want that complements the flavors best. The wine may be better served with a solid dish of the same ingredients, but who cares? It's hardly unpleasant. Now, if I could find more good sparkling reds, I'd be all set.

This is great news. I work in Bergen County (live in Union County) and Mexican is my latest project. Very excited about the prospect of the cheesemaker especially, as I'm constantly reading "the type of cheese usually used for ____ is not available in the US..." (Bayless). I'd love to see a thread on Mexican groceries in NJ if there isn't one already.

Holy shit! I'm more excited about the grocery shopping... ...irresistible.

Yes! Now I remember -- I used to smell the steak every day getting off the train. Was starting to think I was just buying into Rock's hallucination. One of those places we always meant to go until one day it wasn't there anymore. Dbrociner is probably right that I wouldn't drive or make Mr. B drive to Elizabeth or Mendham for dinner unless we were meeting someone halfway or in the neighborhood anyway. Especially in this case, where we are looking for a place to go semi-regularly, mid-priced & local. But I still appreciate everyone's enthusiasm about their favorite places, and will look for an opportunity to check them out.