Category Archives: Good Eats

Chłodnik Litewski

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I know. It looks like the dollop of sour cream had begun to temper the borscht in advance of the photo being taken thus rendering it Barbie pink.

But this isn’t quite borscht. Yes, the borscht we usually encounter is deep red and beet-based – there’s white rye-based borscht and green sorrel-based borscht too – but this is Chłodnik Litewski. It does contain beets but one difference is the presence of cucumbers, radishes, and herbs like dill and parsley. Another distinguishing characteristic is that dairy in the form of buttermilk, yogurt, kefir, or sour cream is an essential ingredient, not an afterthought, hence its unvarnished ungarnished color.

So it’s a hot pink cold soup.

Polish Chłodnik (“cold soup”) Litewski (“Lithuanian”) is light and refreshing and perfect for a summer food tour in Greenpoint where I selected it as another example of a treat we’ll experience if I actually do an ethnojunket there. That’s up to you, of course. I’ll post a few more examples and when we’ve reached the last one, let me know if a Greenpoint ethnojunket sounds like a good idea to you!

Stay tuned….
 
 

July is National Ice Cream Month! Celebrate Globally!

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The story began here:

Every August, as a routinely flushed, overheated child, I would join in chorus with my perspiring cohorts, boisterously importuning, “I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream!” Little did I realize that rather than conjuring dessert, I was conjugating it and probably laying the groundwork for a lifetime of fascination with foreign languages and world food.

We lived in close proximity to one of the best dairies in town; it was known for its wide assortment of locally produced natural flavors, certainly sufficient in number and variety to satisfy any palate. Perhaps my obsession with offbeat ice cream flavors is rooted in my frustration with my father’s return home from work, invariably bearing the same kind of ice cream as the last time, Neapolitan. Neapolitan, again. My pleas to try a different flavor – just once? please? – consistently fell on deaf ears. “Neapolitan is chocolate, strawberry and vanilla. That’s three flavors right there. If you don’t want it, don’t eat it.” Some kids’ idea of rebellion involved smoking behind the garage; mine was to tuck into a bowl of Rum Raisin….

There’s lots more to the story, of course. Click here to get the full scoop! 🍨
 
 

And in This Corner – Samarkand Bazaar!

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I’ve been offering ethnojunkets in Brooklyn’s Little Odessa for over 10 years and I’ve witnessed some stellar Eastern European and Russian food markets fail, only to be replaced by even brighter stars. The prepared food buffet is the feature attraction at these locations.

They come and they go. Some are eclipsed by the competition, some just self-combust for no apparent reason, some are even decimated by natural disasters. (Anyone else remember the beloved M&I International Foods that succumbed to Hurricane Sandy back in 2012? We can be BFFs.) Exquisite Foodland caught COVID and closed for a couple of years, but it has reemerged seemingly unscathed. Gourmanoff regrouped into yet another NetCost Market, its parent company.

And not long ago, in the shadow of the spectacular Tashkent Market opening across the street from it, Brighton Bazaar gamely attempted to hang on but was ultimately extinguished by its rival. When their gates came down for the last time, I wondered what business(es) would occupy those digs.

Enter Samarkand Bazaar. It positioned itself head to head against its neighbor, Tashkent Market. The battle will be noteworthy in that they are cut from the same piece of cloth, at least superficially. They both stock comparable regional baked goods, produce, refrigerated and frozen food, cakes and desserts, smoked fish, and boxed, jarred, and canned food. Not to mention the fact that they are less than 300 feet from each other.

But, of course, the real reason to visit either one is the overwhelming selection of prepared food. They present many of the same dishes; Samarkand has a few I haven’t seen in Tashkent, although Tashkent has many not to be found in Samarkand. I’ve tasted well over a dozen of Samarkand’s offerings; Tashkent has a slight edge IMHO but I’m willing to wait until Samarkand gets it sea legs.

Slides of just a few of their goodies:


Want to know what these yummy dishes are? Want to try ’em? You know what to do. Join me on my “Exploring Eastern European Food in Little Odessa” ethnojunket! Check it out here!
 
 

Dragon Boat Festival – Zongzi Day

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Dragon Boat Festival, the time-honored Chinese holiday that occurs on the fifth day of the fifth month of the Chinese calendar, commemorates the death of the beloved poet and scholar Qu Yuan in 278 BCE. The holiday interconnects the poignant tale of his demise, dragon boats, and zongzi, the traditional sticky rice dumplings associated with the event; in 2023, the date corresponds to June 22.


Zongzi (aka joong in Cantonese) are fashioned from sticky rice wrapped in bamboo leaves and shaped into triangular semi-pyramids tied with twine. At your local dim sum parlor, you might see sticky rice wrapped in lotus leaves but those are Lo Mai Gai, usually rectangular or pillow shaped and featuring chicken – different but also delicious.


They’re made with an array of fillings, some sweet, some savory, and the particular flavor distinctions vary throughout regions of China and elsewhere in Asia. Here in New York City, it’s easy to find savory versions packed with peanuts, pork belly, lap cheong (Chinese sausage), ham, salted duck egg, dried shrimp, mushrooms and more in various permutations and combinations; they’re available year round in any of our nine Chinatowns. (Yes, nine. We are blessed.) Sweet types include red dates and sweet bean paste.

For best results, steam them first, then snip off the twine, unfold the leaves, and dig in.

This one has all of the savory ingredients I mentioned (you can play Where’s Waldo with it if you like); it came from M&W Bakery, 85A Bayard St in Manhattan’s Chinatown, where they offer at least five varieties.

And yes, of course that’s one of the stops on my Manhattan Chinatown ethnojunket.
 
 

Ba Xuyen

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It seems that Bánh Mì, the deservedly vaunted Vietnamese sandwich, is ubiquitous these days. In the past I loved them, but lately it feels like the thrill is gone. Have I gone off my feed on these beauties? I vividly remember the bánh mì I once craved. What happened?

So I decided to return to a place that I used to visit frequently about 20 years ago, before bánh mì eateries were as common as taco joints: Bà Xuyên at 4222 8th Ave in Brooklyn’s Sunset Park. For old times’ sake, I got a Bánh Mì Thịt Nguội, the Combination #1, in an attempt to try to figure out why my tastes had changed so radically.

Turns out my tastes have not changed. Not in the least. The #1 was still number one. But the pervasive copycats have been ruining it for everyone. And we’ve become inured to their (IMHO lackluster) product. I’ve even heard a few foodies applaud the bánh mì from some of those wannabes.

For starters, using the right bread is crucial. A Vietnamese baguette is paramount, as opposed to a hero roll you could pick up in the bakery department of your local supermart. They’re made with a combination of wheat flour and rice flour – for that initial crunch and subsequent crackle. It should be toasted, slightly sweet, sturdy enough to stand up to its fillings but still airy, fluffy and a little chewy, with a crust that’s crisp but not so inflexible as to declare war on the roof of your mouth.

Now for the fillings. Pay attention, impostors: it’s more than just a few slices of Vietnamese cold cuts and some shredded veggies. For the classic, Bà Xuyên’s sine qua non condiment is a blend of Vietnamese pâté and melted butter (and probably some Maggi seasoning) slathered on the bread before loading it with ham, head cheese, pork roll, pork teriyaki and BBQ pork, and finally topping it with sliced cucumber, perfectly pickled carrots and daikon radish plus cilantro and spicy green pepper.

My two cents. Sorry, not sorry.

Marvin and Tammi said it best: Ain’t nothing like the real thing, baby!
 
 

MozzLab

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There are few things about which I am a purist. (One is not ending a sentence with a preposition. See first sentence.)

Another is the pronunciation of the versatile and much beloved fresh pasta filata cheese, mozzarella.

Now, I’m not advocating that we all embrace the charming Sicilian-American argot, “mootzadell” like the neighborhood paisans I remember affectionately from my yout – er, youth.

That’s a long ō in there. Mozzarella rhymes with “Totes umbrella”.

“Matzarella” just cheeses me off. To my ears that sounds like a diminutive female Jewish cracker.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get down to the real subject of this post.

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MozzLab at 502 Henry St, Brooklyn, is a contemporary cheese shop specializing in hand stretched mozzarella made fresh daily (along with its cousins, buffalo burrata, treccia and stracciatella) plus a few other cheeses as well as an array of Italian sandwiches incorporating them, a tempting selection of antipasti, and a mini Italian market.

I had heard about their “Mozzarella Bagels”, a sandwich that includes prosciutto, speck (a type of cured, smoky ham), and mortadella in which bagel-shaped mozz stands in for the bread. I planned to get just the dairy part as a surprise for a vegetarian friend who loves mozzarella but the hitch was that they don’t sell the cheesy toroid by itself. I’m unsure why fulfilling the request was so daunting; I tried explaining what I wanted in English, then to the staff in my defective Spanish (hablaban español pero no inglés) and finally in fractured Italian to the owner (the Big Cheese?) who was adroitly stretching fresh mozz with great panache before my eyes. But when I referred to him as “Il Maestro”, he smiled and made a couple for me as a special order while I watched.


The first photo shows what I did to mine when I got it home (those sandwiches looked too good); the second shows the plain unadorned version I gave to my friend.

Everything I tasted from MozzLab was top quality and the atmosphere projected the warmth and camaraderie you’d hope for from a local business and its regulars. Kind of reminded me of the handful of Italian specialty shops from my neighborhood as a kid.
 
 

Balady Market

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One of the stops on my Flavors of Little Levant and Little Yemen ethnojunket is Balady Foods, the recently expanded Middle Eastern market at 7128 5th Ave in Brooklyn.

The array of treats pictured here includes soft, salty, squeaky Nabulsi cheese that hails from Palestine, electric magenta pickled turnips, foul mudammas (bean dip), Lebanese makdous (oil-cured eggplant stuffed with walnuts and red pepper), sucuk (the generic word for sausage found all across the Middle East) and several types of black olives all resting on a piece of msemen, flatbread from the Maghreb (Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia).

Many of these goodies came from Balady but other establishments are represented as well. And there’s so much more to taste on this food tour! Get the details on my Ethnojunkets page and sign up to join in the fun!
 
 

Royal Queen Dim Sum on Main Street

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As I was hungrily exiting Jmart in Flushing’s New World Mall via the down escalator to the Main Street side, I spotted an array of dim sum on my right and a selection of Chinese roast meats near the window that overlooks the sidewalk. (My version of serendipity.)

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Peering a bit further in, I noticed a steam table array (the typical 4 dishes + soup + rice) and a small sign that read “Royal Queen”. Now, Royal Queen restaurant on the third floor of the complex has been around for a while, but this crowded niche was new to me. I pointed to a trio of crispy fried shrimp dumplings and brought my booty downstairs to the food court.


Each dumpling contained at least one whole shrimp and then some; no ground paste to be found – just deliciousness beyond my expectations.


Here’s how the window looked from the sidewalk on Main Street; it’s directly across from Mickey D’s as you can probably tell. 😉
 
 

Battle of the Cheezy Noodz

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I’ve said it before: any region whose cuisine includes both dough and cheese has a signature dish that layers them in a delectable baked creation. Sometimes that dough is leavened and baked into bread, sometimes it’s dried and boiled into noodles – an oversimplification, I know, but you get the idea.

At its most fundamental, Noodles and Cheese, unadorned with sauce, meat, or veggies, is at once down-to-earth gratification and elegant-in-its-simplicity indulgence. (Ashkenazi Jews will immediately home in on Lokshen mit Kaese.)

On a recent “Exploring Eastern European Food in Little Odessa” food tour, I decided to do a comparison of two examples, achma from Georgia and su böreği from Turkey. Interestingly, but unsurprisingly when you think about it, achma is considered a member of the khachapuri family (Georgian breads) and su böreği belongs to the borek clan (stuffed filo pastry).

Most recipes for these call for a combination of two compatible cheeses: a salty, crumbly type like feta plus a soft, springy variety like mozzarella. You’ll see imeruli and sulguni in Georgia and beyaz peynir or künefe peyniri in Turkey, for example. Essential features for any of these treats are a crispy crust enclosing soft noodles and melty, slightly salty cheese. I purchased a slice of each from two different markets and brought them over to the boardwalk for an A/B comparison.

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Here’s the Georgian Achma…


…and here’s the Turkish Su Böreği.

Want to know more about them? Which one prevailed? I’ll tell all when you join me on my Exploring Eastern European Food in Little Odessa ethnojunket. There are still some openings on my April 25 tour; sign up to join in the fun!
 
 

St. Patrick’s Day 2023

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I checked into Wikipedia before I started writing this to see what gaps in my knowledge of Irish cuisine might exist: the extensive article boasted almost 9,000 words and explored the cuisine beginning with its roots in the prehistoric Mesolithic Period (8000–4000 BC)! So for the sake of our mutual sanity, we’re going to stick with Irish food that I actually know and love.

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Some dishes are quintessentially Irish like colcannon (potatoes and cabbage), bacon and cabbage (which begat corned beef and cabbage), Irish stew (traditionally mutton and potatoes), boxty (a potato pancake), coddle (sausage, bacon, and potatoes), black pudding and white pudding (sausages), shepherd’s pie, and more.

But in honor of St. Patrick’s Day on March 17, here is a favorite that does not include meat, potatoes or cabbage: Irish soda bread. Baking soda activated by buttermilk takes the place of yeast as a leavening agent in this delicacy; that accounts for its delicate, crumbly texture and puts it somewhere along the bread <-> cake continuum.


I purchased this sweet raisin-studded beauty from Court Pastry Shop, 298 Court St in Brooklyn and it was truly outstanding. It’s served here with Irish cheddar cheese, radicchio marmalade (a change up from the traditional coarse cut orange) and whipped butter.

Excellent, as always.


And speaking of quintessentially Irish dishes, here’s one I put together for St. Patrick’s Day 2023. Colcannon, from the Gaelic “cál ceannann” meaning white-headed cabbage, is in my opinion Ireland’s contender for the ultimate comfort food. It consists of whipped mashed potatoes and cabbage with a hape o’ butter (Irish butter, to be sure) and cream. Some recipes call for the addition of kale or scallions for a darker green component (I used scallions here) and it’s often topped with crisp bits of Irish bacon.

An-bhlasta!