DORIE GREENSPAN

Mortar and Pestle: What Took Me So Long?

You know how mothers are always telling their kids to follow their advice so that they (the kids) don't have make their (the mothers') mistakes?  Well, I feel a little like a mother now telling you to add a mortar and pestle to your batterie de cuisine sooner in your cooking life than later.

It's not that I didn't have a mortar and pestle before -- I did.  It was just the wrong one.  I had a small green marble duo that looked like it came from ye olde apothecary.  As pretty as it was, that's how ineffective it was.  It just wasn't big enough to do anything that really needed doing and, when I gave it a job that fit its petiteness, it couldn't do that either because it was so slick that stuff would just slide around no matter how fiercely I pounded. 

At last, after so many years in the kitchen, I found a proper mortar and pestle and instantly became a mortar-and-pestle evangelist.  I've also become someone who uses her food processor a lot less.

See the mint leaves in the mortar?  Three minutes after I took the picture, they were pesto!  There's a reason the tool has been around for centuries: it works -- quickly.  And it's fun to use.  And it's easy to clean.  And it's beautiful.  In the few days I've had it, I've made guacamole, an herb paste for a roasted chicken, a garlic vinaigrette and a red pepper dip.  And, I bought another one for Connecticut.  Can you tell I'm hooked?

This particular mortar and pestle comes from Thailand and is made from one piece of rough (the better to grind) granite.  It comes in three sizes: 1 1/2 cups, 2 cups and 3+ cups.  I bought the 3+ and I think, if you get a mortar and pestle, you should go jumbo, too.  You can use it to pound and grind teensy quantities, but when you've got a bunch of basil, a fistful of nuts, or a few heads of garlic, you'll be happy to have the room to move around. 

In true motherly fashion, I think that the first time you pound your way to pesto, you'll thank me.

Hungry For Paris

The only thing wrong with Alec Lobrano's new book, Hungry for Paris, is that, after 418 pages and 102 stories (and solid information) about restaurants, you're starved for more.  Read the book like a novel - the writing is superb and each restaurant "review" is more short story than traditional critique - and when you reach the end, you might want to start all over again.  For sure, you'll want to go to Paris, follow in Alec's footsteps and eat your way through the city.  The book is a little gem.

And really, so is Alec, who is a friend of mine and the best dining companion on any side of the Atlantic.  Alec is an American who's lived in Paris for over 20 years, has watched the Paris scene since his arrival, and has reported on it for many, many publications, most notably as Gourmet's European Correspondent, all of which doesn't tell you the important stuff about Alec: he's top-of-the-class smart, charming, so funny that I never go out with him without making sure I have a handkerchief, so I can dab away the inevitable tears of laughter (I also make sure not to wear mascara that can run), boundlessly talented and deeply passionate about food and restaurants.  After years of eating out, thousands of restaurants and just as many articles about his adventures, Alec is still in love with the scene - and it's all on the page.

Can you tell I'm crazy about him?  And can you see why?

Funny, but I think that when you read Hungry for Paris, you'll be able to tell why.  You'll also be a lot more savvy about Paris restaurants.  In addition to what Alec calls "portraits" of the 102 restaurants, there's a section about "how to have a perfect meal in Paris," a glossary of French food, quick summaries of each restaurant, indexes of restaurants by type and price, and, at the end of each chapter, a not-to-be-missed story.

I've lived in Paris for a while and I know a lot about the city's restaurants, but still, as I read through Hungry for Paris, I found myself sticking Post-its on tens of pages.  Bet you will, too.

If you want to follow Alec as he travels around, visit his new website.

Passover Wines Not To Be Passed Over

Passover, which starts at sundown this Saturday (at least in this hemisphere), is probably the Jewish holiday with the most food traditions.  The best-known Passover custom is the ban on anything leavened -- so long no-knead bread and morning muffins -- and the most dreaded is the typical wine that's served at the Passover seder, the ritual dinner that marks the start of the holiday, which commemorates the Jews' exodus from Egypt.

While the food at a seder can be spectacular, the kosher wine served along with it -- and wine is a "mandated" part of the meal -- can be (and often was) undrinkable.  The Passover wine that I remember was as thick as motor oil and as sweet as syrup.  For sure, it did nothing to enhance the holiday brisket and worse, because even kids sometimes get a sip of wine at the seder, it probably made teetotalers out of potential mavens. 

Imagine how much more delicious seders would have been with great wines to go with the meals cooks spend days preparing.  Enter Jeff and Jodie Morgan and their wines, Covenant and Red C.

I ran into Jeff and Jodie (pictured above on their porch) when I was in Napa in January and I was so happy to meet Jodie and to catch up with Jeff after many years.  I'd known Jeff in New York in the late '80s, when he was writing about wine and working on the Dean & DeLuca Cookbook.  Shortly after we met, he and Jodie moved to San Francisco and Jeff became a member of the Wine Spectator's prestigious (and feared) tasting panel.  A few years later, Jeff went from judging wines to making them:  He and Jodie founded SoloRosa and just about single-handedly put quality rose on connoisseurs' radar.

I guess I didn't know Jeff well enough in the "old days" to know that he was such a fighter, but clearly the guy can't let a challenge go unmet, which would be the only way to explain his deciding to make kosher wine, probably the least respected type of wine in winedom.  I bet the Baron de Rothschild of legendary Chateau Lafite, who also makes kosher wine, was happy to have Jeff enter the ring.  It can be lonely at the top and now Jeff and his wines are at the top, too.

Convenant and Red C, both Napa cabernet sauvignons, have gotten consistently high rankings from the uber-guru of wines, Robert Parker.  The latest Red C vintage got an 89-90 rating, while Parker gave Covenant a whopping 90 - 92 and said, "Jeff Morgan continues to make one of the finest kosher wines on Planet Earth." 

Of course, like so many good Napa wines, Covenant and Red C are expensive ($90 and $42 respectively), but Passover comes only once a year and if, when you pour a glass of wine for the angel Elijah, as tradition demands,  this turns out to be the year he actually shows up to drink it, wouldn't you want to have a great wine waiting for him?

Baking with Dorie: Cheesecake

I'm a little late linking to this week's Baking with Dorie recipe on Serious Eats, but I don't think it's crucial, since a classic cheesecake really doesn't have a time limit. 

And this is a classic - and classy - cheesecake:  tall, smooth, rich, dense and creamy, creamy, creamy.  You can make it with all kinds of crusts - this one's the traditional graham cracker crust - or, for Passover (which starts next Saturday night), you can make it crustless or use Kosher-for-Passover macaroons instead of crackers.

In fact, the cheesecake lends itself to all kinds of variations.  I've got 11 of them in my book and I bet you can think of at least 11 more.

If you play around with the recipe, I'd love to know what you do.

(Photo by Alan Richardson)

Hello, Cupcake! Hello, Fun!

Just when you thought cupcakes couldn't get any cuter, in march these penguins!  And, along with them, a passel of pandas

a field of sunflowers, a litter of Westies, a garden planted with peas and carrots and the craziest crazy horses made with circus peanuts, creme wafers, twist pretzels and gobs of frosting straight from the supermarket shelf.  In fact, all of the giggle-guaranteed cupcakes in Hello, Cupcake are made with supermarket stuff and require not a bit of baking talent.  It's pure fun!

And the fun comes from friends of mine, the photographer Alan Richardson, and the woman Gourmet magazine called the "cake whisperer," Karen Tack, both of whom I credit with making Baking From My Home to Yours beautiful.  (Alan took the pictures for my book and Karen was the food stylist.)

Working together in Karen's Connecticut kitchen, the team created a collection of cupcakes so completely heart-winning -- and whacky (wait until you see the little kid cupcakes having a slumber party!) -- that you'll find yourself grinning and giggling even before you've got your first cake in hand.

I'm not a good predictor, but I think it's a safe bet that within weeks we'll be seeing Hello, Cupcake Clubs.  Me, I'm thinking of becoming a club-of-one and starting with the mama and baby owl cupcakes made with some of my favorite things:  Oreos (regular and mini), Junior Mints, chocolate-covered sunflower seeds and M&Ms.  What a hoot, right?

Baking with Dorie: Extraordinary Lemon Cream Tart

I've been traveling and haven't had a chance to write, so I'll catch up on things soon, but I didn't want you to miss this week's Baking with Dorie Recipe at Serious Eats.  It's for my favorite, favorite lemon cream, a recipe from Pierre Herme, and I hope you enjoy it.

More soon -- I'm off to catch another plane.