Sunday, July 31, 2011

Veritas Revisited

Having recently dined at Scott Bryan's restaurant, Apiary (a.k.a. A destination restaurant), memories of Veritas came flooding back to me, especially when a familiar face and former "V" employee began serving Shane and me our first course.

Veritas is where I decided that the only place to dine is at the bar (btw, the bars of certain restaurants are still my favorite places to have a nosh or two). I have met so many great, generous, and life loving people by doing so.

Back in the day, my late husband Steve and I would meet at Veritas almost every Wednesday night, right after my weekly class at the International Wine Center. I called Wednesdays "Grae Days.” I’d leave my home in NJ and spend the entire day in NYC. Maybe I’d fit in hair, nails, perhaps a bit of shopping, but then I was off to school to formally learn about “the juice.” Needless to say, the wine poured in class would never find its way to a Sotheby's wine auction; however, it served its purpose. Once class ended, I quickly made haste to "V", where my hubby and several bottles of the finest wines would be waiting for me at the bar. They would be lined up along the back wall like the Rockettes, ready and waiting to start their signature kick line and show off their legs! Make that their legs, nose, acidity, tannins, finish, and body!With Steve being privy to my curriculum, the wines he brought were always in line with the ones showcased in class. So, if on a particular night we were learning about Pomerol, Steve would bring a half a case or so of various wines from that region. With so much great wine flowing, it was natural to share it with whoever happened to be sitting at the bar. Sometimes this prompted these newfound friends to reciprocate, sharing whatever they were having with us! There were times when we even swapped spit - in other words, drank from each other’s glasses (I know, I know - not the most hygienic thing to do, but hey - when you're in the moment and there is only so much 1961 Petrus to go around, you take the risk)!


The wines were just one fabulous component to this incredible equation, for aside from this tiny spot where, to quote the New York Times , the wine was “the Star,” there was also the food! The food at Veritas could make your heart sing, even though the menu hardly ever changed. (I have to say, the fare at most 3 and 4 star restaurants is sooo over the top. Take Alinea - that is a One and Done type of dining experience, whereas you could eat Scott’s food every night and always want more!) For me, that continuity was something that I not only didn’t mind but actually enjoyed. Remember when you were a kid and you knew that Sunday meant pasta, Monday was chicken, etc? There is a certain comfort in knowing what's for dinner - at least that's how I felt about it. Apparently I was not alone, as the Times awarded "V" 3 stars. Veritas has seen a few different faces in the kitchen since Steve passed away and Scott left. It has even regained its 3 star status (a very generous rating from the Times, but I'm a tough critic, and perhaps a slightly prejudiced one to boot...)

Although it saddens me that today’s Veritas is not the Veritas I knew, I'm grateful for the people I met there, the wines I tasted, and the wonderful memories that have filled both my journal and my heart. So here’s a toast to the good times…

Cin Cin! To Tim Bellardo, who made everyone feel as if they were a VIP; and Tim Kopec, who would graciously listen to my awful pronunciations of French labels; to Eric Ziller, (who you may now visit at Gotham Bar and Grill whose memory of my – and everyone else's – favorite Bordeaux would astound me; and Patrick Cappiello (who you can now visit at Gilt ), for always being so patient when explaining to me why one producer’s burgundy would be so very different from another’s; to the wait staff who handled your table like you were the only ones dining (even when the house was full); to bartenders like Melissa to K-K-K-Katie, who, because of their wit, authenticity and sense of fun, christened your seat at the bar the Best Spot in the House; and of course, to the patrons, who helped make every night a party…even if you arrived at Veritas alone, that wouldn’t last for long. Before the funky aromas from your vintage burgundy wore off, a fellow oenophile would be inviting you try their juice - the one whose nose was just ripe for the drinking!










Viva la Veritas... in wine there is truth, and in this case, in wine there are also wonderful memories


Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Chef on Fire!

A few months back, I was at the weekly Tuesday night wine tasting at NY Vintners. As usual, I was starving by the end of it, since Shane only serves bread at these "in-house tastings." (By the way, in-house = staff only and me.) So afterwards, I said, "Hey, Shane, how about we grab an early dinner? You pick the place." Shane's response? "Let’s do it!" We ended up at the terrific Kuma Innin the East Village. Next time we did this, we wound up at a tiny place in Brooklyn called Umi Nom, where we enjoyed another great meal. (It was also the first time I ever had a German Pinot...Becker 2007 Grosses Gewachs Pinot Noir. Danke Shane!)

It was at Umi Nom where Shane and I decided to begin our "food affair." Translation: I bring you to one of my favorite places to dine, and you bring me to one of yours. Like any affair to remember, the restaurants chosen should not be well known. They must be hidden gems – in other words, not the usual list of dining suggestions to Big Apple tourists, like Jean Georges or Nobu, but off-the-beaten-path-sorta-places, and sometimes not so beaten, like Veritas, where I recently took Shane. (For the record, Veritas ain't what it used to be, so if you're planning on going, don't expect to find us oenophiles hanging out at the bar sharing our '97 Henri Jayer Echezeauz or '89 Montrose…yes, those were the days, and nights, but I will save that for another blog.)

What is really fun about this food romance that Shane and I share is that he is more than just a juice lover – he is a foodie and a chef, unlike my other WFFs, Maralice and Murph. (I often think of them when rendezvousing with Shane. I wonder, does that count as cheating?)

Last night was my turn at the dining helm. So where did we set sail for in sweltering, 101 degree temperatures? Apiary , where Chef Scott Bryan can be found creating dishes that are not just going to make your taste buds dance with gastronomic joy, but will have you calling out his name in the middle of the night long after you've finished your Vanilla Panna Cotta. Something else you may want to know: no doggie bags are needed at Apiary, because even after you've polished off your last bite of Shrimp & Potato Gnocchi, there will still be sauce in need of sopping... All I can say is thank God for bread. The wine that accompanied this magical meal was a 2002 Francois Cazin Cour-Cheverny.





To sum up my experience at Apiary, I’ll take a cue from Charlie Sheen:
Scott Bryan is "Winning!"

Still Raving about "Ravs"!

As much as I love to throw large parties, I also enjoy hosting small get-togethers. Cell phones are silenced and the Internet is off - at least for the majority of the time. Having all these technological interruptions is as bad as trying to be romantic with your man and the kids keep walking into the room... (You know how there is a Smoke Free / Smoke Out Day across America? Well, I want to declare a No Cell Phone, No Computer Day! ) So when my friend Val came over for a late lunch last Wednesday, we took the advice: Val and I “unplugged,” and tuned in only to our conversation (and of course, the food and wine).

The night before, I made ravioli again, but this time for my staff. They’ve had to listen to me go on and on about these coveted ricotta filled pasta squares of delight for a while now, so I thought it was only fair that they indulge. (As you can see, these ravs bring out a different side of me... unfortunately, they bring out sides ON me, too ;) !) I also wanted to share my Italian grandmother's recipe for Sugar and Cinnamon w/ Cheese Ravioli. As simple a recipe this is, it will release more dopamine throughout your body than any runner's high could ever give you (or so I've been told, since I wouldn't run even if someone were chasing me).

If tummies could clap their hands for joy, both Rosie and Katia's bellies would still be cheering. In the midst of our foodie-euphoria, I happened to look down at the black truffle butter and honey combo I had made earlier as a dip for our Parmigiano Reggiano shards. Suddenly, I wondered how the ravs would taste with the dip. So dip - no, scoop - the cinnamon-sweet ravioli into the truffle butter and honey I did!!! All I could say was, WOW!


Fast forward to late Wednesday afternoon and Valerie's arrival. Lunch began with a salad topped with Asian grilled chicken, followed by...drum roll, please...Ravioli Delicioso! (Still looking for a name for my new recipe, and would be most grateful if you left your suggestions in the comment section below.) This to-die-for dish was paired with a 2004 Donnhoff. Sheer bliss!

Val had brought cherries from the market on 47th street , which we added for color; but looking back, I'd leave them out and just stick to the sweets and cheese! The same goes for the Donnhoff, I would switch that out for the 2001 Chateau Climens. If you want, visit my website for the exact recipe, and please feel free to share some of your favorites with me. If I use them and add them to my PF's, I will send you a bottle of one of my favorite sparkling wines as a token of my appreciation.

Until then -Cin cin and Buon Appetito!

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Poolside with Prosecco and Port

I adore summer, especially when I'm poolside with my honey and the only things we’re wearing are sunscreen and big, knowing smiles. (Hey, I’m allowed – the kids are away at camp and Miss America is too busy digging up the Hostas to notice.)

This is also the kind of day when dinner is at 2 in the afternoon (gratis my Joanie girl's hand delivery of ravioli from Pastosa's the day before ... truly the best rav you'll ever hav), ‘cause it's just the two of you! So what happens at 6? It's time for Prosecco with a twist - a twist of tangerine, thank you very much - and a splash of fresh OJ.

Dinner = decadent salsa and chips, and when it started raining at 9, we lit a romantic fire in our chiminea and had 1970 Taylor Port with dark chocolate for dessert.

There was more fun to come as we hid beneath our umbrella... ;)

Grapes, Donut and Dom!

It seems that lately, the terms “BFF” and “Love” are loosely tossed, almost as often as a teenager strews clothes around a bedroom.

Yesterday my friend of 43 years, Joanie (a.k.a. “Donut”), spent the day with me. Together, she and I have been through it all - from growing pains to breakups, engagements to weddings, the joys of life such as having children, and the sad times, too, like the death of a loved one. What qualifies someone as a BFF in my book is not just being there through thick and thin (waistlines included!) but the consistent gifts of loyalty and non-judgmental love. I’m not sure if it’s a Staten Island thing or an Italian thing (or an Italian from Staten Island thing, OR perhaps it's a Donut and Grapes thing), but if someone does me wrong, they might as well have done it to her and vice versa.

The only way I can get Joanie out for some fun anymore is if I tell her I need her help (whether I do or not – that’s our secret). So this Sunday, she drove over the Goethals Bridge and braved the NJ Turnpike shore traffic because her gumpy "Grapes” (that would be me - ironically, she gave me that nickname in grammar school!) sent out an SOS. What to serve my Best Friend Forever was a no brainer… 1990 Dom Perignon! We kept the bubbles flowing with a double magnum of De Meric NV Catherine de Medici - not as prestigious as vintage DP, but we actually preferred it. (It always makes me smile when a “lesser” wine beats out the so-called “better” juice!) So here’s a sentimental toast to silly nicknames, great champagne, and dear, lasting friendships…

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Pre-Moshing Wine

Last night, Suzy, one of my closest childhood friends, arrived in NYC with her son, Ben a.k.a. "Sheyne Punnim", in tow (for those of you who do not speak yiddish, this means cute face). This young man is very into "death metal" music and the bands that play it. His standing in line outside a particular club for over an hour (in 90+ degree heat, no less), waiting to enter while his mother and I played catch-up is a testament to his passion.

Personally, I won't wait on line for anything: not a movie, or concert tickets…not even if they were giving away free Jimmy Choos. (Okay, maybe for those, but trust me, it would have to be a really short line and they’d have to be this season's collection.)

Once her firstborn was safely inside (which, considering the circumstances, is slightly oxymoronic), we headed off to dine at Pulino's, one of my favorite pizzerias in NoLita. I confess: I loooooooooooooooooooooove Pulino’s! I don't know about you, but I am a thin crust kinda girl, and at Pulino’s, they make the thinnest one I've ever had. They also make more than your standard Margherita pie – they make dessert pizza! Yes, you read right – dessert! We're talking Nutella carefully smeared all over the dough, and then topped with cinnamon and sugar. It’s beyond good! Btw, I have recreated this recipe at home and paired it with Mooiplaas 2010 Chenin Blanc from South Africa. If you should care to indulge, I can arrange that for you. (See me at the end of the blog for more details.) But last night I was not in the mood for sweet, and instead ordered their traditional pizza along with their savory Polpettine Pie (meatballs, cheeses and chiles, oh my)!.



The lineup of wines went from a Prosecco to a Barberoso, ending with an Italian blend that you would swear was a Bordeaux. All this juice accompanied our Apps, cured meats, cheese plate and pizza deliciosa.



Leaving Pulino’s with a “food baby,” we trekked back to find Suzy's son, who was still busy moshing the night away inside the club. To our surprise, who should be standing outside with us but one of the bands who had just finished performing. Suzy asked me to ask the band members for their "John Hancocks," which I did. They happily obliged.

Having never been to a mosh, since I was/ am, the disco “Queen” (Hellooooooo Donna Summer!) I wasn’t quite down with mosh etiquette. On a whim, I asked one of the band if he would mind carrying me inside the club. I got a resounding “Yes.” (Obviously, these were very gentlemanly metalheads…)


So there I was food baby and all, being carried through the crowd of hard-core moshers, straight downstage! The only thing to do at this point was jump up, and so I did. Like any self-respecting mosher, I even fell backwards into the crowd. Not one of the headbangers groped me or my Buddha baby belly. Moral of the story? Don't judge a book – or a mosher – by its cover, which, in the latter’s case, usually means long hair, tattoos, black tees and lots of attitude.

So pass the Humble Pie. I righteously recant my oxymoron crack from before. Judas Priest, it’s all good!


P.S.: Click here to make your very own Nutella Pizza!
P.P.S.: More importantly, click here to order your pizza wine!

Friday, July 8, 2011

Wild West: Not known for their wine ...Yet!

The Tanque Verde Ranch in Tuscon, Arizona, has become my home away from home. It is where I overcame my fear of horses and discovered a love for the desert. I've visited the ranch on and off over the last twenty some odd years, and in all the times I've gone, only twice did I leave the premises: once, in search of a Levi-wearin’, gun-slingin’ hottie, and again, to go shopping at the local Boot Barn. Doesn't that speak volumes about me?

What initially prompted me to head west was my hope to find the Marlboro Man. No such luck. (Little did I know he was actually from New Jersey!) The cowboys that I did encounter were... well, let's just say that the Ford Modeling Agency won't be sending scouts out there anytime soon. Still, what they lacked in glamour, they made up for in character. Seriously - their mamas would have been proud to know that, as far as their sons were concerned, old fashioned chivalry was alive and kickin’!

I confided in one of the wranglers at the ranch about my plight (a.k.a. mission). He took pity on me (or was maybe making fun of me - it's sorta hard to tell with them), and brought me to his favorite watering hole, The Maverick, where all the local buckaroos went to unwind. (This place is still up and running, waiting for folks to show up and two-step the night away. Two-stepping at The Maverick is an absolute must if you should happen to go west. Don’t ask – just do it). So did I lasso my own special cowboy at this legendary stop? Nah, but boy did I have a good ol’ time looking... hootin’ and a-hollerin’ while I lined danced, crushing my partner’s toes as he tried to teach me how to master the moves... ah, good times.

Now for some shocking news: they serve beef at the ranch! Remember that commercial? “BEEF: It's what for dinner!” Well, apparently at the ranch, this wasn’t an advertisement, it was a commandment. Sooooo, every night, anyone can enjoy various cuts of prime cooked in a variety of wonderful ways. (They do serve fish, but that would be like ordering steak at the shore. In other words, DON’T order the fish.) Since I’m a happy carnivore, this was not an issue for me. The only problem I did encounter was the wine list. Or lack of it. NO BYOB, NO CORKAGE, NO RECOGNIZABLE WINES ON THE LIST! What’s an east coast city slicker to do? Answer: Just go for it. So I ordered a grape varietal (Cabernet sauvignon) that went well with beef. The fact that the wine had a cute cowboy on the label was purely coincidental. No, really ; ) To my surprise, it was drinkable! On my "Relationship and Wine" consulting service, it would have scored somewhere between a "4" and a "5.” The moral of the story? Like a real-deal cowboy would say, “Always make hay while the sun shines.”

Translation of my score of a "4" and a "5":
4- A date with a 4 would not change your life. As for a second date - okay, sure, why not? But be honest: this person is not likely to rate a mention in your little black book. A 4 wine you'd be okay with - not thrilled, mind you, but okay - with trying a second time.

4: worth a second date = you'd try the wine again another time

5- You're bored, yet restless. The phone rings. At the sound of the voice you remain calm. Still, convenience certainly counts for something. A 5 wine is one you've perhaps had before, but more to the point, happens to be the only wine that is being served and so you drink it.

5: If nothing else is going on I guess = decent wine is better than none




P.S.: This horse walks into a bar, and the bartender asks "Hey, what's with the long face?"