(How to) Eat Your Veggies

[A recap of all the good food Sudip made this week using delicious, freshly-farmed veggies. Enjoy!)

Good friends of ours who have bought CSA (community-supported agriculture) shares just happen to be away for a month this summer. That means that we're getting their vegetables, shipped in from a nearby organic farm every Tuesday. Given that I'm at the local farmers' market every Sunday anyway, my kitchen is just filled with amazing produce, all of it organic, much of it heirloom: beautiful little fingerling potatoes, knobby white baby carrots, jewel-like golden beets, purple kohlrabi, fennel, green garlic, sorrel leaves, purslane (my new favorite salad green), Romanesque broccoli (as gorgeous to look at as it is to eat), and of course the ubiquitous zucchini and yellow squash.

Anyway, the best thing you can do with produce like this is not to mess around with it too much. That means, for me, no fancy sauces, no complicated cooking process. A little coarse sea salt, a few lashings of black pepper, a touch of lemon or sherry vinegar, the best olive oil you can afford, and heat--what else do you need?


The dishes I made this week aren't recipes so much as they are wonderful combinations of ingredients that I wanted to share: fingerling potato and purslane salad with knobs of ripened goat's cheese; baby golden beets, fingerling potatoes, and baby white and orange carrots roasted together with olive oil, pepper, and sea salt; spaghetti with sorrel pesto; a soup of Spanish lentils, sorrel, baby carrots, and green garlic; roasted beet, fennel, and goat's cheese salad; and finally, Romanesque broccoli soup with purple onions and green garlic, topped with a quenelle of goat's ricotta. So delicious.

Ramps, Part Deux

[Now, what to do with aforementioned ramps. Chefdip is on a roll!]



Earlier, I wrote about the glories of pickling ramps. Tonight, I decided to use the ramps I pickled over the weekend. Luckily, I still had some wonderful ingredients from Saturday's farmers market: asparagus, new potatoes, and scallions. So I made a warm salad. I quartered the new potatoes, tossed them with olive oil, coarse sea salt, and pepper and put them into a hot oven to roast. When they were nearly done and getting caramelized, I add the asparagus and scallions, which I cut up in small pieces. I have some thyme growing in my kitchen, so I tore off some sprigs and added them as well.

When the vegetables were caramelized and tender, I took them out and squeezed a lemon into them, then added the zest of that lemon--and a handful of pickled ramps. Some more coarse and salt, and I had a wonderful warm spring salad.

For our main course, I took baby swiss chard (which I'd also bought at the market) and wilted it in olive oil, then set the greens aside. I made a sauce by mixing creme fraiche with the strained pickling liquid from my ramps, plus salt and pepper (you whisk it and gets wonderfully foamy). Then I seared off six sea scallops, which I'd seasoned first, adding some butter after turning them initially, then basting the scallops with that delicious brown butter.

I put a bed of swiss chard on the plate, topped with a couple of sea scallops, put some pickled ramps on the plate, and spooned on the sauce. The dish was absolutely incredible and tasted like the essence of springtime.
















I'm out of produce. Tomorrow I'm ordering a pizza.

Ramps? Pickled? What?

[This comes to us from our dear friend Chefdip. I've never had a ramp, and I've certainly never had one pickled, but he takes it there, and makes the rest of us look bad in the process. Shad roe? Shaved asparagus? Sorry, I'm busy with my Betty Crocker yellow cake over here.]



















Springtime seems to bring the most delicious things to the farmers markets:
fava beans (which are worth the great trouble involved in preparing them), earthy morel mushrooms (best eaten when cooked gently in butter), the most delicious asparagus (which I both roast and eat raw, shaved in a salad), and tender, young salad greens. And of course, the shad are running, and that means shad roe, which I look forward to each year with an anticipation bordering on lunacy.

Ramps are also in season. Americans have been eating these wild, garlicky little leeks for ages, but only recently have they become a flash item in restaurants. They're only available for a short time in the spring, they grow wild in parts of Appalachia, and they're highly perishable. But they're intense and delicious. I like to eat them with shad roe and capers, in a soup with new potatoes and thyme, pan-roasted with chicken, oven-roasted with scallions--just about any way I can.

But because they go bad so quickly, I like to pickle them, to extend my ramp season. I can then add these pickled ramps to a braise, to salads, to a sauce for soft-shell crabs, to frittatas.

Last weekend, I pickled my ramps in two ways. Both involved a base of 1 cup of white wine vinegar and 1 cup of sugar. To the first batch, I toasted some mustard seeds, coriander seeds, black peppercorns, and bay leaves and added this mix to the liquid. I blanched the ramps for just a minute or two, then put them in a sterilized jar and poured over the pickling liquid. In the second batch, I toasted off about 4 tsps of the Bengali spice mix called panch phoran (five spices): nigella seeds, fenugreek seeds, mustard seeds, fennel seeds, and cumin seeds--the aromas in the kitchen were unreal--and added this to the brine. After about three days, you have a truly wondrous thing.

Not Raw Enchiladas

One of my friends has a bi-weekly potluck at her place. I take a lot of pride in going there and blowing away the competition with whatever I'm making that week. Some people might say that a potluck is not a competition. Well, for me it is. I can't stand knowing that someone else made better food than I did. "You're food is soooo good" might be a good enough compliment for the less competitive, but the only comment I want to hear is "your food is the best thing here". That is why I was so angry last night when my friend took herself out of the running completely by allying herself with my old nemesis: The Raw Food Diet.

For people who don't know me, this requires some back story. A while ago, before Uzy moved from left coast to right coast she mentioned to me that she was going to start doing the Raw Food Diet, the rules of which are that one can only eat fresh, uncooked fruits, vegetables or nuts. I, being a sensible person, told her that just because food was "raw" doesn't make it any more healthy, and that there's no evidence that a diet of raw fruits and vegetables will make any more healthy than an average rabbit, whose life expectancy is about 8 years. We argued about the raw food diet until I finally told her that I'd do it along with her, the point being to disprove all of the raw food nonsense. To make a long story short, Uzy quit after five days admitting that she was no healthier than when we began.

And now the Raw Food Diet was back, ruining my chances for potluck glory. Sure, I got plenty of compliments from other people there, but I don't value their opinions the same way that I do the opinions of my friends. Why even bother going to this potluck if my friend won't even taste my food? Anyway, these Enchiladas were a big hit amongst people who were not on the Raw Food Diet. It was a victory, but an empty one.

I got this recipe from Tyler Florence. I added ketchup to the salsa, for no reason other than that I add ketchup to everything.



Roasted Tomatillo Chile Salsa:
1 pound tomatillos, husked
1 white onion, peeled, sliced, quartered or whole
4 garlic cloves
2 jalapenos
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup chopped cilantro leaves
1/2 lime, juiced

Enchiladas:
Extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 medium onion, diced
3 garlic cloves, chopped
1 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 cups chicken stock, storebought
Chopped cilantro leaves
1 deli roasted chicken (about 3 pounds), boned, meat shredded
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
10 large flour tortillas
1/2 pound Monterey Jack cheese, shredded
2 cups sour cream
Chopped tomatoes and cilantro leaves, for garnish

Guacamole, optional

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.

For the salsa: On a baking tray, roast tomatillos, onion, garlic and jalapenos for 12 to 15 minutes. Transfer the roasted vegetables and any juices on the bottom of the tray to a food processor. Add the cumin, salt, cilantro, and lime juice and pulse mixture until well combined but still chunky.

Enchiladas: Meanwhile heat a 2 count of olive oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until soft and caramelized - this should take 5 to 7 minutes. Add the garlic and cumin then cook for a further minute. Sprinkle on the flour and stir to ensure the flour doesn't burn then gradually add the chicken stock to make a veloute. Continue stirring over a low simmer until the flour cooks and the liquid thickens. Turn off the heat, add half of the roasted tomatillo chile salsa, some additional fresh chopped cilantro and fold in the shredded chicken meat. Season, to taste, with salt and pepper.

Change the temperature of the oven to 350 degrees F and begin assembling the dish. Take a large baking dish and smear the bottom with some of the reserved tomatillo salsa. Now take the flour tortillas and briefly flash them over the stove-top flame (or put them briefly under the broiler if using an electric stove). Using a shallow bowl, coat each tortilla lightly with the reserved salsa mix. Put a scoop of the shredded chicken-enchilada mix on top of the tortilla followed by a sprinkle of the shredded cheese. Fold the tortilla over the filling and roll like a cigar to enclose it. Using a spatula place the tortillas in the baking dish and continue to do the same with all the tortillas. Finally pour over some more of the salsa and top with the remaining shredded cheese. Bake uncovered for about 30 minutes until bubbly and cracked on top. Garnish, cilantro and tomato.

Jambalaya / Measuring is for losers

I needed to make a dish for a potluck that would rock people's socks off. This jambalaya totally did the trick. There wasn't a sock to be found by the end of the party.

This recipe is courtesy of Rachel Ray, who is one of my least favorite food network hosts. The girl can cook though.

I made a couple of changes to this recipe to make it a little more how I'd cook. First off, I don't like to measure ingredients while I'm cooking. My measuring cups are by far the least used things in my kitchen. Measuring always makes me feel like I'm doing science, and that's not why I cook. I like to just feel it out, use the force. As such, the recipe is really more of a guideline for me. So, included with this recipe is how I went about measuring the ingredients in the dish. In general, my rule for spices is to put what looks like how much the recipe calls for, then put a little more.

The other change that I made was that I put some of my secret ingredients in there: Ketchup and Tabasco sauce. I have yet to find a recipe that this won't improve.

2 cups enriched white rice (a little more that half a pound, and about a 10 count of water)
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, once around the pan (once around the pan)
1 tablespoon butter (more than I'd put on bread)
1 pound boneless, skinless white or dark meat chicken
3/4 pound andouille, casing removed and diced
1 medium onion, chopped
2 ribs celery, chopped
1 green bell pepper, chopped
1 bay leaf, fresh or dried
Several drops hot sauce or 2 pinches cayenne pepper (or? both!)
2 to 3 tablespoons (a handful) all-purpose flour (a few shakes of the packet)
1 (14-ounce) can diced tomatoes in juice
1(14-ounce) can or paper container chicken stock or broth (half a box)
1 teaspoon (1/3 palmful) cumin (a shake or two)
1 rounded teaspoon (1/2 palmful) dark chili powder
1 teaspoon (1/3 palmful) poultry seasoning (i used a bouillon cube)
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce (i probably used way more than that)
1 pound medium shrimp, raw, deveined and peeled (ask for easy peel at fish counter)
Coarse salt and black pepper
Chopped scallions, for garnish
Fresh thyme, chopped for garnish.
(four squirts of Ketchup)



Cook rice to package directions.

Place a large, deep skillet over medium high heat. Add oil and butter to the pan. Cube chicken and place in hot oil and butter. Brown chicken 3 minutes, add sausage, and cook 2 minutes more. Add onion, celery, pepper, bay, and cayenne.

Saute vegetables 5 minutes, sprinkle flour over the pan and cook 1 or 2 minutes more. Stir in tomatoes and broth and season with cumin, chili, poultry seasoning, and Worcestershire. Bring liquids to a boil and add shrimp.

Simmer shrimp 5 minutes until pink and firm. Remove the pot from the heat and place on a trivet. Ladle jambalaya into shallow bowls. Using an ice cream scoop, place a scoop of rice on to the center of the bowlfuls of jambalaya. (I just added it to the Jambalaya and mixed it up) Sprinkle dishes with salt, pepper, chopped scallions, and thyme leaves.

The Delicious

More than a year ago I made up this dish for breakfast. We had eggs, we had the makings of lox and bagels, but I kinda wanted both, and I thought, "Hmm, perhaps THIS would be good." I asked Jared, hesitantly, because I thought for sure he'd think it yuck, but he was all for it. And so we made THE DELICIOUS.

It's really pretty simple, and actually, I must be honest, I've since seen a similar thing on a menu. So maybe I didn't make it up entirely but actually pulled the vague memory of this from the dark recesses of my brain.

It goes:

Eggs, scrambled
cream cheese, generous amount
lox, cut into bits

and on the side, a bagel, toasted and buttered.

Other variations include getting triple-onion cream cheese or including shallots or chives seperately. One could also add capers or a dash or red wine vinegar.

This is incredibly easy to make, but it's all about timing:

Just make scrambled eggs, as you normally would, with a healthy dose of salt and pepper.

Then, when the eggs are about 65 to 75 percent cooked, put in about 3 to 4 spoonfuls of creamcheese. Stir, fold, chop, whatever, just combine in whatever way you want to make sure that the cream cheese melts throughout the eggs. Otherwise you'll just end up with kinda melted cream cheese and a few big cream cheese chunks. No good.

Then, at the last minute, when the eggs are entirely cooked and the cream cheese is melted, add the lox and distribute evenly. You don't want to leave them in too long, because they'll cook. (Again, no good.) So, maybe 30 seconds or less should be fine.

Serve on a plate with a side of bagel.


(In planning to write this post I've discovered that it's very difficult to take a good photo of eggs. Use a flash, they come out yellow but washed out. No flash, they come out dark and grey. So, while this may look less than appetizing, I promise, it lives up to its name.)

And now, I'm finally a man

In case you haven't heard, summer is all about grillin'. That's right "grillin' ". No "g" at the end of the word, not if you're a real man at least. And, thanks to Costco's Tuscany outdoor grill, I'm much more of a man than I was a few weeks ago. Thanks to my new purchase, all of my laundry smells like fire and meat, the essence of manhood. If this blog is getting a little too "Home Improvement" for you, I don't care, because it's going to continue like this for a while. That's how we men do it.

Just getting the grill to it's resting place was an endeavor. It required borrowing my roommates pickup truck, going to Costco, and somehow getting a 300 lbs grill up three flights of stairs, to my rooftop patio. It wasn't easy, but then again, greatness never is.

After preliminary experiments with the standard bbq fare, my old buddy Tyler Florence showed me a sweet recipe for a Chicken Kebab salad. This dish isn't really like anything that I've ever made before. It's basically chicken and sausage kababs, that are then put into a big bowl with romaine lettuce and tossed with a ceasar salad dressing. There's two things about this recipe that I like:

The first, is that it's a meaty salad. My dad always makes salads with meat in them. Usually, it's not just chicken. My dad has been known to top his salads with steak, sausage, or pork. It's a good way to stick it to vegetarians by defiling their most precious of food, The Salad.

The second thing I like about this dish is the way that french bread is used on the kebab. You skewer the food on the kebab alternating bread - chicken - bay leaf - sausage - bread etc. I would have thought that the french bread would burn when you put it on the grill, but it soaks up all the juices from the chicken and the sausage while they cook and doesn't get very burned at all.



When I made this dish, it tasted like my dressing had too much garlic. As a result, my breath smelled for two days. If I do it over, I'll make it with less garlic and maybe some more anchovies. Also, Tyler's recipe calls for fresh, not dried, bay leafs. Well, maybe in Tyler Florence's fancy supermarkets they carry fresh bay leaves, but in mine they sure don't. I used dried bay leaves, then squeezed lemon juice over the whole kabab as a replacement.

Without further wait, here is the recipe:

For the kebabs:

8 links sweet Italian pork sausage
1 crusty baguette
2 to 3 medium, boneless, skinless chicken breasts
12 fresh bay leaves
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 lemons
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the salad and dressing:
2 anchovies
2 cloves garlic
1/2 lemon, juiced
2 egg yolks*
1/4 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, plus shavings for garnish
1 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons water
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 heads romaine lettuce, chopped
Flat-leaf parsley, for garnish
2 lemons, cut into wedges, for garnish

Special equipment: 4 large foot-long skewers, metal or thick bamboo work best, soaked in water for half an hour if using bamboo or wood.

Preheat grill to medium-high heat.

For the kebabs:
Slice chicken thinly, cut the baguette into 1/2-inch rounds, and cut the sausage links up into chunks, alternating cuts at 45 degree angles for nice triangular shapes.

Now prepare the kebabs. Take the skewers 1 at a time and begin threading the components alternately. Start with a piece of bread, then chicken, bay leaf, sausage, and bread; repeat this 3 times to fill the skewers, ending with bread.

Lay the prepared kebabs out on your board and drizzle liberally with extra-virgin olive oil. Squeeze the lemon juice all over and season well with salt and freshly ground black pepper. Place the prepared kebabs onto preheated grill and cook for about 7 to 10 minutes per side, or until cooked through.

While kebabs are roasting you can prepare the salad. In a blender combine the anchovies, garlic, lemon juice, egg yolks and grated Parmesan. Pulse a couple of times to combine, then add the water and blend again. With the motor running, gradually pour the oil through the feed tube and continue to blend until emulsified. Season, to taste, with salt and some freshly ground black pepper.

In a large mixing bowl add the chopped romaine. When the kebabs are done, remove from the oven and slide the kebab components off the skewers directly into the bowl. Add some dressing and gently toss to combine.

To plate, garnish with parsley leaves, shaved Parmesan and fresh lemon wedges.

Pasta Mia

Pasta Mia is one of those restaurants that has rules, probably set in place by Mama Mia (you'll know who she is if you go). You must obey the rules in order to eat at Pasta Mia without a) being embarrassed or b) starving to death while you wait. And wait. And wait some more for your dinner.

The rules are:
1. ONLY COMPLETE PARTIES WILL BE SEATED. This means you better coordinate well if you're supposed to meet someone there. If I were meeting someone and it was my turn to be seated and they hadn't shown up yet, I wouldn't hesitate for a second to dine alone. When it comes to Pasta Mia, it's every woman for herself.

2. NO SUBSTITUTIONS WILL BE MADE. Don't even think about ordering the Linguine with Clams with a butter/garlic sauce instead of a red sauce. They've perfected their dishes, thank you very much, and they don't appreciate your tampering.

3. CASH ONLY!!! NO CHECKS OR CREDIT CARDS. Luckily there is an ATM right around the corner.

And then there are other rules, which aren't written but ARE absolute.

4. GET THERE EARLY. VERY early. Pasta Mia opens at 6:30 p.m. (closed Sunday and Monday). By 6:00, there is a line outside. You're pushing your luck if you get there later than 6:15, and trust me when I say that if you do not get seated in the first wave of people, you should just go next door to the Mexican restaurant or something. You will be waiting for AT LEAST one hour.

5. THE SERVICE IS SLOW. DEAL WITH IT. Don't complain or you'll get the Mama Mia smack down! I do suggest, if you're feeling antsy, to avoid Pasta Mia on Friday and Saturday and shoot for a Tuesday through Thursday visit. They are (sometimes) less swamped on the weekdays so are a little more attentive.

Jared, Lo, and myself went to Pasta Mia on Friday, followed all the rules, and had an excellent dining experience.

My dish: Fusilli with eggplant. Delicious with red sauce and large pieces of mozzarella cheese melted throughout. I get this every time now.


Lauren's dish: Fusilli with Sausage. VERY SPICY. They went a little nuts on the red pepper flakes with this one. Still, very good, if you like a kick.


Jared's dish: Tortellini al Ragu. The tortellini is filled with cheese, and the meat sauce is delicious, with a really interesting flavor that makes me think they use quite a bit of wine. I think this is the best dish (that I've had) on the menu. I myself don't order it because it consumes my faux-vegetarian's soul with guilt. But you can bet I sneak a few bites from Jared.


And, to top it off, delicious espressos, cappuccinos, and this:


Tiramisu. So good, it rivals Biramisu.

Not only that, but the prices are reasonable (generally $12 a dish) and the three of us had two snacks and an entire meal with the leftovers. That is not an exaggeration. The portions are huge.

Anyway, go to Pasta Mia, but be prepared!

Billy Hot Chocolate...Cake

This is my friend Billy Hot Chocolate:


He does a radio show from his house in Riverdale. He also does wrestling at the UCB Theater. His wrestling show was recently reviewed on Gothamist, where the reviewer said about the show, "W.T.F." Billy was psyched about that.

He came to visit last weekend and we went for a walk in my neighborhood. At my favorite coffee place, Java House, they sell slices of this enormous chocolate cake, like Bruce Bogtrotter size. Everytime someone orders a piece, everyone looks at them with a mixture of envy and disgust. I had a really great idea to order a slice of this cake, plus an espresso milkshake. So gluttonous, so decadent...this prospect excited me much more than it probably should have. In my head it became this return to childhood, where all you want to do is eat an entire cake and you've never heard of calories or sugar or fat or being responsible. So really, it wasn't ONLY wanting to eat a big fucking slice of cake. It was more than that.


I thought Billy would be a good person to share the cake with:


(You can also see a tiny sliver of the espresso milkshake on the left hand side there. Honestly, if cake isn't your thing, go for the espresso shake at Java House. It's awesome.)

And he was, and it was super fun and yummy. Fin.

Komi

We went to Komi last night for Jared's birthday. It was incredibly delicious and incredibly pricey, but Jared's gift was the food and it was totally worth it even though the money thing has me feeling guilty and vowing to eat oatmeal for lunch for the next two weeks to save. BUT regardless of that, the food was amazing. Not a single thing was meh. Everything was special and the whole evening was utterly decadent. We talked to a sommelier. We had wine. And beer. There are no salt and pepper shakers on the table, and really, how could you even think of a-salt-ing (HAAA!) chef Johnny Monis' food with such common condiments?

There were, I suppose, four parts to the meal, the first part being the most fun and complicated -- the "Mezzatakia," which is just several tiny plates of things that they bring you one after the other. We had some really good sparkling white wine called "J," then Jared had a Smutty Nose beer which was delicious and I had some South African Rose.

The courses for that were as follows:

1. An olive, in olive oil, with sea salt. They brought this out as the first plate of the Mezzatakia and it was, hmmm, an olive. But this olive was firm, not all soggy and over-olived. I mean, it was still just an olive but it was definitely the best olive I've ever olived.

2. A small piece of fish, cut carpaccio style. I believe it was yellowtail, topped with olive oil, sea salt, tiny baby chives. A fave for a while.

3. A radish, cut lengthwise in half, with creme fraiche and salmon roe. Kind of weird.

4. A grilled jalapeno pepper, which was so fresh and good and not scary spicey, with a shot glass of gazpacho. I've never had gazpacho before because I don't generally like tomato soup or cold soup, and gazpacho has always seemed to me a glorified cold tomato soup, but this was really good. It almost tasted fruity. It also had some tiny greens on top that I can't identify but looked sort of like sprouts.

4. Okay, this was delicious, and complicated: It was a tiny bed of lentils, with a thin slice of avocado over it, with a quail egg yolk over that, with a side of chopped grilled octopus. It was fucking awesome.

5. Then came the corn ball -- a ball of corn meal filled with ricotta cheese, then fried, atop a really delicious saffron creamy spanishy zingy sauce. Jared said he would have ordered a dozen of those as his main course if it were possible.

6. Next was tiny sandwiches: Mine was filled with mushrooms and Jared's was beef cheek or something weird. But they were very good, wrapped in a tiny slice of house-made pita bread and with a nice shmear of creamy cheese.

7. The last of the mezzatakia was a watermelon cube, with a dollop of whipped feta cheese on top, then a hazelnut on top of that. Refreshing.

That was the most fun part. Next came the pasta. I had goat cheese stuffed raviolis with chopped almonds and pears. There was no sauce except for olive oil. The portions were tiny but by the end of the evening I was stuffed, so no complaints. Jared had some papardelle, which is a sort of wide flat noodle, with a "milk roasted baby goat ragu" says the Komi menu -- a tasty creamy cheesy red sauce. Very delicious.

Then was the main course. I got a mediterranean sea bass with a rapini side. They brought the whole fish out to me before they served it to ask if I would like to eat the "cheeks." The fish was covered in some sort of bread house (and this is where we all realize that I have no authority to talk about this food whatsoever). No but seriously it was in like, a little adobe shell of bread or something. I guess they baked it like that? Anyway they asked about the cheeks, took it away, and brought it out to me again a few minutes later, freed from the bread house. They also removed all the weird fish parts that remind you you are eating something that used to swim around, so I was just presented with two lovely white delicate creamy amazing strips of this bass. THEN they brought out another plate with the fish head on it, for the cheeks. I ate those too, and they were also delicious. The rapini was delicious and bitter and perfect for the fish. I ate every bite.

Jared got the charcoal grilled lamb chops, of which I had a piece and they were amazing. I don't really know how to write about lamb but this was very well cooked and tasted awesome. They were accompanied by fennel and ramps...I have no idea what "ramps" is. I just read that off the menu. You can ask Jared if you are really interested.

Then dessert -- They had many options, but I went for the flourless chocolate cake with olive oil ice cream. It. Was. RICH. And yummy. The olive oil ice cream tasted very slightly of olive oil, but mostly it seemed like vanilla to me and was overshadowed by the chocolatiest chocolate thing ever. Jared got something that I forget the name of, but it was basically three tiny doughnut beignet sort of things with a marscapone coffee mouse on the side. It was, I think, better than mine. There are these filipino doughnuts that I love called malasadas and these were like mini malasadas. MMMMMM.

With the bill, they brought out saffron lollipops. And then we left, tipsy, full, and happy. MMMM.