you like apples?

When we were kids my grandfather would take me and my brother apple picking at Och's Orchard in Warwick, New York. Like everywhere else he took us, he always knew someone and there was some type of special treatment. On the way home we would stop at Rockaway Sales . Grandpa would give us each one dollar. That used to mean a matchbox car. Then they raised the price, so with tax it came to $1.06. Grandpa wouldn't budge, if a dollar wasn't enough pick something else. I think that is when I started to carry my own money. Just so I could kick in the extra cash and get what I wanted.
I don't remember picking many apples on those trips. It was more about hanging out with grandpa's friends, drinking cider, walking around in the different barns and out buildings.

Fast foward to the first time I went apple picking as an adult.
I think there were 15-20 of us. We decided that Thanksgiving was to far away. We should have a big feast after a day of apple picking. We all met at the orchard, set up our blankets and layed out snacks. we threw the football around picked some apples drank some wine. I can still remember the smell in the air. It was a perfect fall day, just a hint of a chill in the air, clear skys and a warm sun. the smell of over ripe apples starting to ferment right on the ground. The bees to drunk to bother with the likes of us.We all went back to a friends house to enjoy our pot luck Thanksgiving. Peeled apples, made pie and crisp, carved pumpkins. Then it came time to sit down for dinner. My friend (bachelor) had three forks and two knives. Luckily he had plenty of chopsticks. So the knives were passed just like gravy, even with chopsticks we all ate to much anyway.

Fast forward a second time, and now I am bringing my own kids on the annual pilgrimage in search of the perfect apple. The past two years we've gone to Windy Brow right in Newton. I know a few people there and when I see the owner it always reminds me of grandpa and his cronies. The kids (all of us) love the cider donuts. We still bring a picnic, and throw a ball or a Frisbee. This year Rob and Kate joined us with their kids. My brother and one of his two, my cousin and his wife with their kids and a couple of friends. Some awesome cheeses, a hunk of smoked duck breast, some moonshine, beer and wine. Afterward we all headed back to our house. We enjoyed a big feast. Rob left his camera in the car. But, I personally witnessed him and walked him through, the apple crisp preparation.
Oh and now that we are grownups, everyone had their own knife and fork.

Here's the recipe for the crisp topping. It's my version of the one grandma used to make.

1 cup flour
2 sticks unsalted butter
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup old fashioned rolled oats
spice as you like, I use cinnamon

Combine the ingredients and cut the butter into pea size.

This mix gets spread evenly over apples that have been peeled, sliced, and seasoned with sugar, lemon juice and more spices. Bake at 425 until golden brown and bubbling.

Lucky 13

"You make your own luck"

I had heard this before. So, when I googled it I was happy to see it was none other than Pappa Hemingway who gets the credit for saying it.
In case you hadn't heard we celebrated the 13th anniversary of our restaurant opening this month. I thought it would be fun to throw a 13 course dinner to commemorate the occasion. Each course would somehow nod towards luck, superstition or good fortune.

For all of those years I have heard many rave reviews from customers, family and critics. The times that I am most proud of are when someone takes a few minutes to tell me how much they enjoyed everything and then finish with "...and your staff is just wonderful!" Typically I would respond with " Yeah, we are really lucky to have some great people working with us." Then one day I was corrected. "You have hired the right people. You have trained them well. And, most importantly, you take care of them. That is why they do what they do for you. That is why they take care of us, That is why they care. And that has nothing to do with luck" And, so it is. Our staff really is like another family. Don't get me wrong there are times when they make me want to rip my own hair out. But, when it comes down to it they would do almost anything for me. And I wouldn't be able to do what I do without them, all of them. From bartender to dishwasher and everyone in between,they are the magical glue that keeps this squeaky little machine going. So, if I am not "lucky" to have them, then I guess I need to take a minute to express how much I appreciate having them. And, if any of them are reading this...
Put your smart phone down and get back to work!

As promised, here are some photos from the Lucky 13 Dinner... this is how the menu read...

Black Pearl in an Oyster

A Pot of Gold

Wish Upon a Star

Revenge(a dish best served cold)

The Luck of the Irish

Rabbit Fingers

Lucky #7

Schwien Gehabt

Chimney Sweep

Mighty Oak

Broken Mirror

Vegas Baby

Chocolate Thirtini

and we picked a few nice wines as well...

Nicholas Feuillatte Brut Rose

Domaine Weinbach Reisling

Pacific Rim Vin de Glacier

Laetitia Pinot Noir

Black Jack Ranch Syrah

Pedroncelli Vintage Port

Cheers!

P.S. I was really happy that Rob was able to come by and capture the night.Our schedules don't always line up. When one of our guests heard he was in the kitchen he asked if he could meet him. He said some thing like "I love the photos you put on Andre's blog" I know he meant no harm. He was paying a compliment. But I winced a bit when I heard it. I was in the middle of plating what totaled to nearly 1200 plates of food and couldn't pull myself away to correct him. So, for the record, this is and always will be Rob and Andre's Blog.

vegas, part two/margarita?

Okay, I know it's been a while. As I have said before "sometimes life gets in the way". However, on the occasion of polishing off the last of the complimentary, ginger lemongrass soap, cream, and conditioner from The Wynn. I decided it was high time to get back in the saddle and tell you a bit more about our trip to Las Vegas! Good thing I took some notes.

Mr. Bond had his martini, Pappa Hemingway had his daiquiri. As a novice consumer of alcohol more years ago than I care to admit I thought that I to should have a cocktail of my own. After all Grandpa had his scotch, Mom drank Vouvray, Dad went through his own Martini phase. Why shouldn't I be known as the____guy. So after a short bit of experimenting I settled on The Gin and Tonic as my cocktail of choice. It seemed more mature than the sweet cocktails and wine coolers my friends were drinking. Although truth be told I consumed my fair share of those as well. And now at Christmas time Grandma could give me a big bottle of Tanqueray knowing it would make me happier than some sweater or a crappy cookbook with no pictures.

And then one cold December night after I had graduated from cooking school my Dad kinda blew the whole thing. "Is that a Gin and Tonic?...Isn't it a little cold out to be drinking Gin and Tonic?" And that's when I realized that yes, even cocktails have a season. Before there were mixoligists and cheftenders, before the house made bitters and freshly infused syrups even a simple Gin and Tonic had a season.

Well as you probably know, in Vegas, everything is always in season. Whatever you want whenever you want it. So on that first day with a little more than an hours sleep in the last 36, after two glasses of Champagne at brunch. Tracey and I headed out to hit the strip. I admit I found the whole thing a little overwhelming. The people, the lights, the skeezy dudes handing out business cards with photos of naked women.

But it was warm and sunny and we were on an adventure. Just as I was thinking we should be back at the pool Tracey says "ready for a drink?" Coincidentally we happened to be right in front of Jimmy Buffets Margaritaville. As you know I am not much of a chain restaurant person. However they do make a good drink. And there is Margarita in the name. Unfortunately the place is packed. and with so many options it seemed silly to wait for a table. Back out on the street less than half a block down but still part of margaritaville is a tiny 4 seat bar totally empty save for the lonely bartender. And so it is that I find myself sitting on a stool on the Vegas Strip kicking off my shoes and settling into the first of many expensive drinks we were to consume over the next three days and nights.
There was Grunerveltliner at Bar Masa. Some awesome Italian reds at Carne Vino.A Negroni at Sinatra,followed by an attempt to strip mine the wine list for some great values. I think I impressed the sommelier with my selections because he kept bringing us tastes of wine from other bottles. Then there were the fancy cocktails in the Eiffel Tower, dry Rose at Mon Ami Gabi.

 

More fancy cocktails at that really cool bar in the Cosmoplitan, Vesper Bar. By the way if you get to Vegas this was the best bar in the worst location. We sipped some of the greatest $16 drinks under a staircase in what felt like a suburban shopping mall, and it was worth it!

At B&B Ristorante we were surprised by a gift of one of the best Pinot Noirs I have ever had, from friends of the our restaurant back home. Unfortunately the notes on that stayed in Vegas.

We did also consume many more over priced margaritas by the pool at the Wynn and Parasol Down on the other side of the hotel. I know, it sounds like all we did was drink. We sure didn't sleep much. But, I assure you we did eat some great food. We gambled a little. Tracey and I got to know Rob and his wife Kate a little better. We saw some cool shows. And we made it back alive.

vegas part one / exit strategy...

A lesson I learned long ago from my maternal grandparents regarding vacation... pack light, plan well and don't forget to celebrate your departure.

As a kid it didn't matter who was going away. It was an excuse to get together the night before and crack a bottle of cheap champagne. An opportunity to congratulate ones self on being smart enough to take a break from it all. A true Bon Voyage! There seems to be some part of that wisdom that sticks with me to this day. Get the party started ASAP. Most of our vacations lately have been road trips. And, whenever possible I like to arrange it that I get to do some cooking. The planning starts well in advance. The week of the trip I like to square away a shelf in the walk-in to start stocking supplies. A few special items, maybe a new cheese or three. As the week goes on one shelf turns into two and then I start to plan how to pack the coolers and decide what wines to bring and what types of cocktails we might want. My week of vaca turns into two because every day of the week before I am planning and thinking about what to eat and drink. The kitchen staff pokes fun at me and how much I tend to pack. When they see the cases of wine and booze going into the car they ask again, "how long will you be going for" and "how many people are going" I make up for it by bringing only a small backpack of clothes. And whoever goes away with us is always pleased with my pantry.

So anyway, then we win a trip to Vegas. I have said this phrase so many times, both in my head and out loud, and let me tell you it doesn't get old. WE WON A TRIP TO VEGAS! Anyway, there will be no packing of food and booze, no cooking at all. So the Bon Voyage energies get re-focused. Our flight is at 7a.m. Sunday. Newark airport wants us there at 5a.m. So I get the bright idea... Lets just leave right from work Saturday night. Hit the city for drinks and appetizers and then go to the airport. I can hear Balthazar calling my name. Get the party started. Sounds great but then we start to over think the situation. Is this really the smart way to start a short trip in a different time zone? No, probably not. However every time we do the math it really doesn't make sense to go home and sleep for two hours and then drive to the airport. Part way through the deliberation process Tracey remembers about the park and fly program at one of the hotels close to the airport. Perfect, for a few extra bucks we get a hotel room close to the airport, shuttle service and parking. A fancy bottle of wine, a little sleep, hop on the plane and be ready to hit the strip.

Well it didn't quite work out as planned. The kid at the front desk tells us they have over booked and so they will be shuttling us to the Holiday Inn. Wait for a bit, honey in the car. This is when I realize the kid has his shirt miss buttoned. I mean the young man in charge of running the hotel for the evening can't line up the buttons on his shirt? I should have left right then and there. "can I just drive to the holiday inn?" ..."no, they don't have enough parking" wait a bit more... Finally the shuttle shows up and we load our gear and climb in, and then wait for a bit more. At this point it's approaching 1:30 a.m. and we have yet to start the party. So I go inside to find the driver, Imagine a shorter skinnier uglier Vanilla Ice, if there is such a thing, fighting with his girlfriend via cellphone. I tell front desk kid that I am unsure about getting into the vehicle with an obviously distressed driver. But, they both assure me all is well. So out to the bus we go for a 25 minute drive south to Carteret. Tired and frustrated we check in and the girl at the desk wants to know if she should call a cab for the a.m. We inform her that it's a stay and fly so we have a shuttle. "No, we don't offer that" Get the original hotel on the phone and they are willing to send a shuttle for us in an hour and a half. an hour and a half! So at 2:30 in the morning we are sitting on the floor in a Holiday Inn in Carteret sharing an expensive bottle of merlot, without the benefit of glassware for fear of being charged for a room we won't sleep in. Waiting for the shuttle bus. As luck would have it the very same driver comes back to pick us up. Mr Ice is now the picture of happiness, realizes that he now has the opportunity to suck up in hopes of a tip. 25 min. north, grab the car, long term parking here we come. I could add here that not at any point during this rigmarole were we offered the slightest apology. Take note of where we parked? Thank you, no. Security...I won't even go into that, I'm sure you have your own vision of personal humiliation you can just insert here.

So we arrive at the airport right on time and annoyed as hell for a flight that is also over booked. May I please sit next to the overweight armrest hog? Thank you very much. Gin and Tonic at 9a.m.? yes please! Through all of this BS we couldn't help but laugh and have fun. After all we had won a trip to Vegas! There, I said it again. Me, Mr. EvenSteven was a winner, out for a few fun filled days of adult activity with my favorite person in the world. And of course our partners in crime.

We land and get to the hotel around 10:30 a.m. Vegas time with still no sleep. We check in and the room is ready. Set the alarm for 1 hour, shower, dress and off to complimentary brunch and then hit the ground running. I am convinced that there are very few things that a glass or two of champagne can't fix. The highlight of brunch was a riff on Eggs Benedict. Not sure how they made it but what follows is a recipe for my version. Stay tuned for a few stories from the rest of our trip.

English Muffin

2 teaspoons active dry yeast
1 cup water
2 1/2 cups flour
2 teaspoons salt
1/4 cup melted butter
1 tablespoon honey
corn meal

combine yeast and water and let stand in a warm spot. add the butter, honey, and most of the flour. add the salt and remaining flour and knead for 5 minutes or so. using the cornmeal to dust the table, roll the dough to 1/2 inch thick. cut into circles. let stand, covered with a towel for 15 minutes. cook in a pan on top of the stove over medium low heat 7-10 minutes per side.

Cured Salmon

heavily season a salmon filet with salt, pepper and sugar. cover with plastic, top with a weight and refrigerate for 3-4 days. scrape off the seasoning and slice as thin as humanly possible.

this is rediculously easy to do and you will be amazed by the results!

Hollandaise

In a small pan reduce 1/2 cup white wine with a splash of lemon juice and some fine diced shalllot. meanwhile melt 1 pound of unsalted butter. in a medium mixing bowl whisk 2 egg yolks and add the reduced wine, shallot mixture. whisk over a double boiler until pale and frothy. in a slow steady stream whisk in the hot melted butter taking care to not let the mixture seperate. season with salt, pepper and tabasco.

Poached Egg

heat a small pan of water to about 180 degrees. it will look like soda water with tiny bubbles but no real movement. season the water with a few tablespoons of good vinegar and some kosher salt. stir the water to form a delicate whirlpool and drop a raw egg in the center. cook for 4-6 minutes until the white has set enough to contain the yolk.