In her Spectator restaurant reviews, Tanya Gold often doesn't mention the food until the penultimate paragraph, but it's almost always worth the wait. Writing of a London restaurant in the April 30th issue, she could have been describing half the restaurants in America: "The food is for giants who love salt."
The Big Bagel is what the columnist Taki sometimes calls New York City. But the real big bagel, I've discovered, is at Fort Lauderdale's new Brooklyn Water Bagel Co. I stopped in the other day, thinking I might get a salted one for lunch, and walked out empty-handed. They are enormous, puffed-up, bloated tires. I asked the man behind the counter if he had any smaller sizes. He gave me a bemused look. Though I may buy one this weekend and use it as an inner tube on the New River.
It begins with half a grapefruit, followed by granola that contains 13 grams of sugar. When you're halfway through the sweet bowl, mom asks if you'd like a sticky bun. You tell her you've already had way too much sugar.
"I like sugar," she says unabashedly.
It's hard to tell a woman that what she's been eating for 90 years isn't good for her.
So when did goat cheese officially kick every other cheese off the menu?
Ewa had the cod vacuum-packed in Norway and brought it on the Norwegian Air Shuttle from Oslo to Fort Lauderdale. Then she prepared it in the Boca home of our friends Marek and Ela.
I had always been under the impression that friends don't serve friends lutefisk. I had heard the jokes about the fish soaked in lye (lute); the family in Minnesota that put it out to keep the raccoons away. It worked, but they now had a family of Norwegians living under their house.
I had also read about its strong taste and gelatinous texture, which I somehow translated to mean that it was sometimes served in aspic. I wouldn't even eat bacon in aspic. So I arrived at the dinner a little wary.
The main course arrived on a large white platter. It was not in aspic. This I viewed as a major triumph. A small bowl accompanied it, containing a sauce of cooked onions and bacon bits; this was to be ladled over the fish. (None of the jokes had ever mentioned bacon bits.)
When you've been expecting gelatin, a gelatinous texture is not a problem. Especially when it's offset by the saltily satisfying crunch of bacon. I washed everything down with aquavit, and asked Ewa about the horrible reputation of the fish.
She said that the Norwegians in Minnesota were too long removed from Norway to be able to prepare the dish properly. She also had a simpler, two-word explanation: Swedish propaganda.
... you finish your cauliflower and onion tart at your favorite lunch place, 11th Street Annex, and Penny comes out of the kitchen and asks you if you like cold soups.
You say you do and minutes later she brings you a little stainless steel cup of cold mango and coconut milk soup laced with lemon and ginger.