Saturday, April 28, 2007

Egg House

During my weeks of very exciting travel, I made my way south of the Mason-Dixon line for a week. It was much better than the weeks I spent far north staring across the border at foreign lands (well, just one not so foreign land). While I was south of the Mason-Dixon line, I was in the midst of yet another real estate nightmare crises, and I did not manage to explore the town much. I was able to explore the room service menu (good selection, reasonable prices, but they get you every time with the delivery fee plus the standard included 20% tip). Although, I was only there a couple of nights thanks to the monsoon that hit NY the night I was supposed to go down there.

So really, my only food experience in the southern lands was the Apple Bee's in the airport (BARF). HOWEVER, while in the taxi on the way to the airport I passed a Waffle House, followed immediately by a Pancake House. Which left me wondering, why no Egg House?

It's true, you always see waffle and pancake houses, but never an egg house. I confirmed my suspicion with Jeff who agreed he'd never seen an Egg House (perhaps he was agreeable because we were running through the park and he wanted me to stop talking). Realizing Jeff may not be the expert on the existence of egg houses, I did a search on google. No egg houses. But the 2nd result was "How to wash egg off a house" - good to know.

So, then, why no egg houses? One assumes that you'd be able to get eggs at a pancake or waffle house, plus you can do a million billion different things with eggs. WAY more than you can do with pancakes or waffles. Let's see..omelets (obviously), regular eggs (any way you want 'em), fancy frittatas with smoked salmon and goat cheese, or perhaps chorizo and avocado, baked egg casseroles, plus technically, eggs are in waffles and pancakes, so you'd have those. And crepes, those are actually mostly eggs, and french toast. Not to mention the egg sandwich, the best thing since sliced bread (get it? ha! sliced bread is needed for the egg sandwich...so it wasn't invented until...never mind, if I have to spell it out for you it's not going to be funny anymore). You can serve cake and cookies and meringues and any breaded meat dish; you can have lots of challah, and ice cream...seriously, the possibilities are endless.

Perhaps the issue is that no one has been able to narrow down the options and that's why there are no egg houses. Maybe it's just the simple fact that "Pancake House" sounds a bit more appealing than "Egg House" - it does kind of sound like you're going to egg a house (like google suggests).

If I ran an "Egg House" I would definitely have the egg sandwich as the center piece of my menu. It celebrates the egg but enhances its goodness with a porky accent (any good egg sandwich has ham or bacon). Plus, again, the possibilities are endless...you can do the standard BLT&E or an egg wrap with ham and cheddar, or for something fancier, fried eggs with prosciutto and pesto and goat cheese, or if you're in the mood for an egg sandwich with mexican or spanish flair, chorizo and manchego with roasted red peppers. Plus, you can vary the bread options tremendously, bagels, rye, wraps, you name it, you can do it. Wow, I could go on and on...this may be my hidden talent, discovering new egg sandwiches...I bet I can't sleep tonight while I am discovering all the new possibilities.

While I never discovered why no Egg Houses exist, I certainly found a way to pass the time while I waited on the airplane for 3 hours to take off.

...italian sausage and mozzarella...chives and cream cheese and smoked salmon (hey, there's one without pork)...feta and tomato (there's another)...grilled onion and peppers with prosciutto and parmesan...

Friday, April 13, 2007

the babbo post

I've gotten many requests for the babbo post and for a variety of reasons (mostly that I was in Buffalo) it's been delayed and delayed. But here it is in all of its glory. It's long too (good thing it's Friday so no one wants to work anyway, so you have plenty of time to read it).

First of all...the reservation getting. As everyone knows, you must call one month (to the day) at 10 am to attempt to get a reservation. I have tried this approach before and called for 4 straight hours before I got through and then, of course, they were booked. Jeff did a little investigating, anticipating the difficulty in getting a reservation and found out that if you call like a minute in advance and get the recording "it's too early, blah, blah, blah" then you hit '0' (I think, maybe it's #) and you'll cycle through the menu and then when it's 10 you'll be fed right through to the reservation lady.

So armed with this information (I didn't actually know Jeff had a secret for getting through at the time), at 9:50 on March 4th, Jeff was busy talking on the phone with his brother when he looked up at me and said "we need to call!" - which TYPICALLY means, "you need to call" (plus, Jeff was already talking on the phone, so I assumed he wanted me to do it) So being the selfish birthday person I am, I said "I'm not calling, it's my birthday." In this case, he actually did, in fact, mean "we" since it's so hard to get through, so he thought, we both should try calling. So we worked that out and both started dialing in. Of course, Jeff dialed in a minute early and was able to get through by his secret button pushing plan and got us a 7:30 reservation! Still kind of annoyed at the whole "we" confusion, I was outwardly not jumping for joy, but my heart MAY have skipped a beat with excitement (after all, one of my New Year's resolutions for this year was "Have dinner at Babbo").

I immediately got online and started checking out the menu; they have an a la carte menu, a pasta tasting menu, and a regular tasting menu. I knew immediately that we MUST get the pasta tasting menu. Now I only had to wait a month.

So I waited, and waited and waited. Then the week before my birthday I went on a "no pasta" diet so I would be extra super duper excited for the pasta tasting menu. Jeff made fun, but no matter, I wanted to be as ready as I could be. I also began to think that there was no way that it could possibly be as good as everyone says, I mean really, how good can pasta really get?

So Wednesday night Jeff and I both finished earlier than we thought and decided to meet at the restaurant about a half hour early and get a bottle of wine at the bar. Of course we didn't anticipate that the restaurant would be full to the gills on a Wednesday night (clearly, not using our head, since we both knew how hard it was to get reservation, DUH). It was packed, but we checked in and squeezed our way into a spot that was almost out of the way of all the waiters walking by and almost close enough to the bar to actually attempt to order something. Clearly, getting a bottle of wine was not going to happen. But I still managed to order a glass of Prosecco, which was delicious (there was no getting between me and some birthday celebratory bubbles).

We were seated a bit before our reservation, and to our horror, when the maitre d' (who happened to be one of the guys that's always on Molto Mario) took us to our table, we found that the place settings were on the SAME SIDE of the table. GASP! But we always make FUN of the people that sit on the same side of the table! But there was no way anyone could sit on one of the sides of the table, because it was too close to a set of stairs and on the way to the kitchen (even though that description makes the table sound like it was in a horrible location, it wasn't actually, the table location was actually good, we could see the whole restaurant). So we gave each other nervous looks and slid into our seats.

They gave us our menus, but I had already decided for us (that's what I get to do on my birthday, decide what Jeff's going to eat too, well maybe I don't always do that on my birthday). So I instructed Jeff we were getting the pasta tasting menu and asked him if he wanted to do the wine pairing too (which was an additional $50 per person, which probably ends up being a bottle of wine per person). We agreed to just get a single bottle for about $50-60 and that would certainly be enough alcohol for us (especially since I had already done a shot and had a glass of prosecco).

We ordered and sat back and waited for the pasta to start flowing. The pasta tasting menu consisted of 5 pasta dishes and 3 dessert dishes, so we were in for a marathon dinner.

Course 1: Black Tagliatelle with Peas and Pecorino
Jeff's reaction, "I don't even like peas, and I love this!" and I finally understood what "perfectly al dente" meant. There was a bright burst of fresh peas with the sharpness of the pecorino. I don't remember exactly, but I think there was just a light drizzle of a pea puree for a "sauce." Definitely two thumbs up.

Course 2: Asparagus and Ricotta "Mezzalune" with Spring Onion Butter
My reaction, "I don't even like ricotta and this is fabulous!" This dish was essentially a ravioli stuffed with the ricotta cheese with a butter sauce. There were a couple of small pieces of whole asparagus and then some shaved pieces of asparagus stem. The ricotta wasn't strong (which is why I liked it), but creamy and wonderful and the light crunch of the asparagus complimented the richness of the butter.

Course 3: Garganelli with "Funghi Trifolati"
This was a basic pasta with a mushroom sauce. There were shaved mushrooms and it was light and delicious. The mushroom flavor wasn't overwhelming, and again the pasta was perfectly al dente. I was actually surprised at how light a mushroom dish could be, and creamy (I hate that word, but it's really true in this case).

It was probably at this point that Jeff and I sheepishly admitted to each other that we very much enjoyed sitting next to each other while dining. At least in this situation. We were able to hear each other well (it was kind of loud in there) and we could point out funny people or other things more easily because neither one of us had to turn around to look. Plus, we didn't have to stare at each other for 3 hours (not that we don't like looking at each other, but it can be weird to stare at a person for that extended period of time). But, we concluded we will never request to sit next to each other (and NEVER do so in a diner), but you know, if it's more convenient then maybe we could do it again.

Course 4: Fernando's Pyramids with Passato di Pomodoro
Essentially this was little "pyramids" of pasta (just what it sounds like) with a basic tomato sauce. The tomato sauce was so fresh tasting, and yet still had a depth to it that is inexplicable. However, it was at this dish that we took a sip of our red wine and both understood how important good wine pairings can be. None of our previous dishes had a tomato sauce, they were all butter based (or essentially non-existent). It actually really surprised me that our red wine didn't go (at ALL) with the tomato sauce. I think the wine was maybe too dry for the tomatoes? I don't know, clearly I know nothing about wine and even less about wine pairings, but now I completely understand the importance of good ones.

Course 5 (last pasta course!): Pappardelle Bolognese
Bolognese is one of my most favorite sauces, so I was pretty darn excited about this course. But I was also wondering (yet again), how good could it really be? I should have learned from the previous four AMAZING courses, that, of course, it would blow any other bolognese out of the water. Which it did. The meat was SO tender I couldn't believe it. I slowly savored each and every morsel on my plate. I should have asked for more (I bet they would have given it to me...at a price, of course), but after 5 pasta courses and with 3 pending dessert dishes, I knew better.

Course 6: Toasted Sesame "Sabbiosa" with Blood Orange "Marmellata"
I honestly don't really remember this course (clearly, not a good idea to wait 10 days to write about it). I think it was mousse-like; I remember a light sesame flavor in the background.

Course 7: "Fiore di Latte" with Figs and Vin Santo
This course was a delightful sort of "intermezzo" it was like a panna cotta, very very light with a touch of fig on top of it. I was really mostly looking forward to the next course, which was chocolately, so I didn't pay too much attention to the first two dessert courses. I think actually, in my head I combined the first two desserts into one.

Course 8: Chocolate Polenta Cake with Espresso Gelato
YUM. yum yum yum yum (to be read in the tune of the organ played at a baseball game). They actually brought each of us a different dessert, and we couldn't hear what they said, so we never really knew what the second one was. Like an apple cake almost with (I think) cinammon gelato. I was just glad I didn't get that one (I would have made Jeff switch with me even if I did get that one). The chocolate polenta cake sounded weird, but it had wonderful chocolate flavor and a very very slight crunch from the polenta (still sounds weird, I know, but trust me, it was great).

I finished off the meal with a cappuccino, and sighed in delight. The meal took somewhere between 2.5 and 3 hours, which was perfect. The courses were spaced just right; once we had finished one course we had just enough time to digest a little, chat a little and get ready for the next one. I was full at the end but didn't feel like I wanted to vomit, which is very important after finishing dinner.

So we wrapped up and headed out, and on our way out I wanted to check with the maitre d' on a rumor that I had heard. I heard that if you have dinner there one night, you could make a reservation for a month from that day. (which I really couldn't understand, would they reserve tables for this? didn't seem very efficient). But as it turns out, you can make a reservation, but you don't get any priority, you can make a reservation only if there are tables still available (since the phone lines opened at 10 am). So all they had left was an 11:30 pm reservation for May 4, which seems like a horrible time to start a 3 hour dinner, so I passed on the reservation. But that did allow me to speak to the guy that's always on Molto Mario!

So in the end we spent about $240 (including tip) on the dinner. But there was mucho money spent on alcohol (the pasta tasting menu was, I think, $59 per person). It was definitely definitely money well spent. A wonderful birthday present, I'd have to say. I really didn't think that a "pasta dinner" could ever be that expensive, that I wouldn't mind paying it, and that I would enjoy it so much (even after it had built up so much). Although I really had convinced myself that it couldn't be as good as everyone said (just like I convinced myself they would never really call my name on TPIR), clearly once I convince myself that things aren't going to be as good as I think then things turn out better than I thought.

So when I got home I e-mailed my mom giving her a quick de-brief of the meal. And at the end I indicated "we spent more than $100 per person on dinner, so don't tell dad" - we had recently had a conversation with my parents about spending $100 per person on dinner. So guess who called me the next day? My dad. Guess what the first thing out of his mouth was? "How was your expensive dinner?" Clearly, my mom is not to be trusted with secrets.

But anyway, now that I have revealed the secret for getting a reservation, YOU ALL MUST GO! Call tomorrow (or today, is it still before 10?)! HURRY TO THE PHONE LINES! It really is as good as they say.

Monday, April 09, 2007

Hangin' on

So last Tuesday I was having a pretty good day, it was warm out and I was enjoying the spring weather. Plus, I was still 28 (clearly, I have learned to appreciate the small things). While it was my last day as a 28 year old, I wasn't really thinking about it too much, it was too nice out! That is until everyone had to keep reminding me I was no longer going to be 28 for long.

I had a doctor's appointment that day, and the first thing they asked me when I walked in the room was "how old are you?" which is weird, because I can't ever remember that they have asked me this before. I mean, my birthdate IS in my chart, is my age REALLY the thing that needs to be on the top of the piece of paper, perhaps more important information should be there, like my blood pressure or something? So I emphatically answered "twenty-eight" and then whispered under my breath "twenty-nine tomorrow" (wow, that still sounds old, even though I've had a whole six days to get used to it). The nurse smiled and laughed (at me, I'm sure), but wrote 28. I felt relieved that I still had one more day and walked happily home. On my way home I saw the girl from Little Miss Sunshine, which was nifty too as I hadn't had a celebrity sighting in awhile.

I continued walking home, enjoying the city, the weather, and trying to think on the bright side. After a 20 minute walk, I again became content with becoming older, mostly because I forgot about it. Later that night, however, we went to the gym and the damn elliptical machine asked me for my age. First the nurse, now the workout equipment, WHY IS EVERYONE SO CURIOUS? Can't I slip into 29 without anyone noticing? Why, oh why, does everyone need to know so badly? I love birthdays, I always have, but I do not love getting older. Getting older is stupid. So now at this point, I was annoyed because I was at the gym, and I was annoyed because of the nosy workout equipment. Usually, what happens at this point, is that I get mad and then have a good workout and forget about it.

But on this particular Tuesday evening I did not forget about it. STUPID machine. At the end of my workout I slowly climbed off the machine and met Jeff at the stretching area. I cooled off and was standing up to get ready to go when I noticed a poster on the far wall, not wearing my glasses or contacts I couldn't actually see it, so I walked over to it. The poster had information on it like what your optimal heartrate is, etc... It also had the optimum number of push-ups given your age, well, given your age group. And the groups were by decade (20 - 29, 30 - 39, etc..), which I didn't notice at first, but Jeff did (since he was no longer in the same age grouping as I). So as we looked more closely we realized that the optimum number of push-ups for him and me were the same! ha! Given that he was male, his optimum number was naturally higher than mine, except that he was now in the "thirty" age range so his body is presumed to be on the decline. poor guy. Good for me though, I'm not thirty! Of course now that means I need to practice my push-ups so that I could actually do as many as Jeff, but no matter, it reminded me that I'm still in my twenties! For one more short year!! even if I wasn't going to be 28 anymore like everyone had reminded me, it didn't matter, I have one more year! one more year!

details to come on the big birthday dinner...I promise!