redacted recipes

Wild and Brown Rice Stuffed Peppers

I love it when my produce and my pantry conspire present me with an obvious dish. This week's CSA share brought us bell peppers, onions, and corn (amongst other things), and as I was putting it all away the last of a block of feta cheese pretty  much leapt out of the refrigerator (along with a jar of peanut butter, but that's another story) and fell at my feet begging to be used.I don't particularly like raw bell peppers, though I adore them roasted, baked and fried, so I promised the feta I'd feature it with the peppers in a hot dish. Then I crammed all of the produce into the fridge and slammed the door and went off to the All Points West festival to see Radiohead.

As an aside, I have to say that I'm getting too damned old for outdoor all day music festivals. It was hot and a long walk from the train into Liberty State Park and it was a long wait for Radiohead, but worth it, as always. My two daughters were with us-- they grew up with Radiohead as background  music-- and very sweetly told their friends they would be hanging out with us for that part of the festival, even though I repeatedly told them I didn't mind if they chose not to. How nice is that?! At their age I'd have rather died than go to a rock concert with my parents.

It was a great show, but a long day and we didn't get home until about 1:00 AM, and I felt ruined on Sunday morning-- sore feet, aching back, and generally washed out.  It was the sort of day that begged for frequent naps and dinner delivered, but I couldn't ignore all that CSA produce and I'd made a promise to the feta.So I shuffled into the kitchen and took stock and then I curled up with a favorite cookbook, The New American Plate. I think I might have dozed off a little, but between naps I found a recipe for stuffed peppers which not only called for feta, but also for fresh corn. And onions! Three CSA items! It also required kidney beans and rice, which were in the cupboard. Perfect! I love it when everything comes together like that.

I adapted the amounts of the ingredients to make considerably more stuffing, as I knew I'd happily toss it into salads and eat it for lunch all week. Don't do what I did and forget to put the tops of the peppers back on before baking-- your kidney beans will go dark and burned-looking (they tasted fine, just looked ugly).

Peppers Stuffed with Rice, Beans and Feta

4 medium bell peppers
1 cup rice, cooked (I used a wild and brown rice mix)
1 can pinto beans, rinsed and drained
1 medium onion, chopped
3/4 cup fresh corn kernels
1/2 cup feta, crumbled
1/4 cup toasted pine nuts
1/2 teaspoon dried basil
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste

Cook the rice and then let it cool.

Prepare the stuffing by mixing the rice with all of the ingredients (except the peppers, of course!). You can do this ahead of time and stick it in your refrigerator until you want to bake the peppers.

To assemble, preheat the oven to 375 F. Cut the tops off the peppers and remove the seeds. Reserve the tops. Spoon the filling into the peppers, packing it lightly, and then replace the pepper tops. Place the stuffed peppers in a baking dish and place it on the middle rack of the oven. Pour about an inch of water around the bottom of the peppers. Bake for about 45 - 50 minutes.

Greenmarket Pleasures

Spring seems to have finally arrived and the Greenmarket gets more interesting every Saturday. We were delighted to find kale and collard tops on offer from Garden of Eve (suppliers to the CSA we've joined). They look pretty in a vase, don't they?

They're also delicious to eat. Slightly bitter, they taste like a cross between broccoli and escarole. Discard the thicker woody stems and saute them quickly in olive oil for a fabulous side dish.

Garden of Eve also had eggs on offer, which were just too beautiful not to photograph.

Studiofeast II: Underground, Overground

After the great time we had at last month's Studiofeast with Ilan Hall, we were very keen to repeat the experience. This time, however, we invited a couple of guests: Mike, a work colleague of mine who is another fan of interesting eat-out experiences, and Zenchef, known to many of you from his warm, witty and wonderful blog, "Chefs Gone Wild".

We met in one of our favourite Williamsburg bars, the Brooklyn Ale House. We love this place because in the ten or eleven years we've been going there pretty much the only thing that's changed is the dodgy artwork on the walls. There are always several regulars at the bar, there's a reasonable selection of beers on tap as well as specials in the cask, the jukebox is good and at weekends the bagels are free. Dogs often roam the peanut-shell-strewn floor looking for attention and, it has to be noted, a carelessly low-hung coat to cock a leg against. Only the unwary put their coats over the back of the bar chairs here.

Once again we turned up at the secret location promptly at 8:00 having stopped en route to buy a selection of wines from The Bottle Shoppe on Bedford Avenue. Co-organiser Mike Lee remembered us from last time, which was nice, and after a brief chat with him we settled ourselves at the end of a table. As the place slowly filled up we sampled the first of our wines: a light and silky-smooth Momokawa Ruby sake selected by Mike, who is something of a Japanese cuisine afficionado. There were quite a number of people we recognised from the last event, which made this pre-prandial part of the evening even more fun than last time. The atmosphere at Studiofeast really is very warm and sociable. Everyone just seems so pleased to be part of it and eager to talk and share with friends and strangers alike. You can get a sense of the event (and what the chefs were up to) here.

At around 8:45 the hors d'ouevres appeared. We were treated to three different varieties which we accompanied with a pleasantly crisp, fruity 2006 Botalcura El Delirio Chardonnay Viognier. The Isleford Crab Rolls turned out not to be rolls at all - we suspect a last-minute supply issue here - but consisted of salty, citrusy crabmeat over thickly-sliced bread triangles. Next came dill-dressed gravlax over thin rectangles of rye bread. Very simple, but tasty. The last of the trio was everyone's favourite: Devils Eggs. These were not the spicy little things we were expecting (as in Deviled Eggs) but simple halves of boiled egg with light touches of garlic, salt and cheese. The yolks were just cooked, avoiding the dryness of the typical hard boiled egg. I would love to show you some pictures of these creations (and the subsequent courses) but for some mysterious reason my already shaky abilities with the camera completely deserted me this time. Apologies for that; you'll just have to take my word for the fact that it looked good as well as tasting good!

Next came the first course: a salad comprising asparagus, morels, leafy greens and candied pork with a sauce Gribiche dressing. We paired this with a 2006 Wyatt Pinot Noir which was a fairly classic medium-bodied example of the breed with a lovely, characteristic brick red tone. The salad featured watercress which had not had the large stalks trimmed away; an unusual idea that we had some doubts about but which, surprisingly, worked very well. The slight bitterness of the stalks made a good contrast with the highlight of the dish: the candied pork. These meaty little nuggets were bursting with sweetness yet not so much that the flavour of the meat was lost. The combination of the leaves and stalks, the woodsy earthiness of the morels and the mild tang of the dressing made a whole that was definitely more than the sum of its parts.

I think it was early during the serving of the salad course that we happened to notice a vital stage in the preparation of the entree. Even in a crowded room it's hard to miss a whole roasted goat on a spit being carried through to the kitchen. Yes, those crazy Studiofeasters had really taken underground dining to the edge this time -  the edge of the roof, to be precise. Underground dining with overground cooking - they'd roasted the beast right out there in full view of neighbouring buildings, passing subway trains and, no doubt, flocks of worried pigeons. Later in the evening Mike took us up to the roof to show us the huge grill, and told us how they'd spent a few anxious hours hoping the local Fire Department didn't think there was anything unusual about a thick plume of smoke rising into the air above the building. Well, the FDNY either didn't notice or didn't care, and as a result we all got to enjoy succulent slices of the roof-roast, accompanied by the most deliciously salty pebble-sized potatoes, Vidalia onions and hunks of curry corn bread topped with a savoury, garlicky butter.

We paired this with a wine provided by the Zenman - a Mocali Brunello di Montalcino Riserva 2001 - which was just perfect for the dish. A big-bodied, dirty-minded number, this had a deep black fruitiness laced with just a hint of pine forest floor. Just what you need for roast meat and potatoes!

It would have been a mistake for this meal to end with a heavy-hitter of a dessert and it didn't: Monica Glass had created a simple layered carrot cake with chocolate, hazelnuts and cream cheese mousse. We paired this (and the petits fours which followed) with an Otima Port. This is not a heavy, rich port so it worked well with the relatively light dessert.

Our second Studiofeast experience was every bit as enjoyable as the first and it was great to meet Zenchef. Do check out his report of the occasion, which features the only two remotely useable photos we took. Zenchef doesn't look that blurred in real life, even after half a dozen glasses of wine!

Studiofeast

The next Studiofeast will be on April 12 at 8:00 PM. We'll be there along with our wild and crazy food blogging friend, Zenchef. Hope to see some other NYC bloggers! You can get on the mailing list here and try to snag an invitation! And you can read about what an underground dinner party is like here.

Some info about the guest chefs (courtesy of the Studiofeast website):

"Matt Deliso is a young chef who has cultivated a breadth of impressive experiences including cooking under Gabrielle Hamilton at Prune, Gray Kunz at Café Gray, and being an integral contributor to the opening of Grayz. Matt is currently preparing for his next position as Chef de Cuisine at a certain West Village restaurant under Jason Neroni.

Monica Glass began her pastry career under Deborah Racicot at Gotham Bar and Grill. After 7 months of moonlighting as an extern, Monica accepted Deborah’s request to join her team full time. After two years passionately building her budding pastry repertoire at Gotham Bar and Grill, Monica moved to Le Bernardin to work under the 2007 James Beard Award winning pastry chef Michael Laiskonis."

The Urban Winery: Bridge Vineyards Tasting Room

During our recent Studiofeast experience Ed, one of the helpers at the event, tipped us off about the Bridge Vineyards Tasting Room, a fairly new place located at 20 Broadway, Williamsburg, down by the East River and the Williamsburg bridge. Bridge Vineyards specialises in wines from New York State, especially Long Island, and the tasting room offers a choice of "flights" or individual tastings, plus a small but scrumptious selection of savoury "food pairings".  On Saturday we decided this would be a lovely way to start our evening so we strolled over there and took a seat at the bar in the small but stylish establishment.

We elected to try a flight, rather than a "tasting" (which at this place is actually a single glass of wine, of your own choice), opting for the Reserve Flight. From left to right we were served a Lenz 2002 Old Vines Cabernet Sauvignon,  a Bridge 2001 Reserve Merlot and a Wiemer 2006 Dry Riesling. We're not generally big fans of white wine but we were particularly taken with the Riesling, which was bright and fresh with hints of citrus and apple yet which - in common with many of the better New World Rieslings - avoided excessive, cloying sweetness. Greg, the co-owner, was so pleased by this that he poured us a taste of another white-- a Lenz 2006 Gewurtztraminer which had a palate-pleasing pétillance and a fruity lightness that blew away dark memories of the often excessively heavy and sugary Gerwurtzes one tended to find in less enlightened times.

The reds were nice too; both having what proved to be a rather characteristic "stony" undertone to them. The Cabernet Sauvignon in particular had a somewhat unorthodox balance of flavour notes: along with some fairly typical touches of cherry and redcurrant I thought I detected the slightest hint of something almost medicinal... but in a good way!

To accompany the flight we ordered the crostini which were beautifully composed - both visually and in choice of ingredients. The tomato and pesto (left) was a welcome preview of warm weather (local hydroponically grown tomatoes make a difference in winter!) while the Gorgonzola with rosemary honey on cranberry pecan bread (middle) made our mouths sing. The roasted pepper, capers and pine nuts sitting on creamy Hudson Valley fromage blanc (right) was perhaps our favorite, pairing beautifully with all three wines.

Our second flight (best of New York reds) consisted of (from left to right again) a Milbrook 2006 Pinot Noir, a Broadfields 2002 Estate Merlot and a Sheldrake 2005 Estate Cabernet Franc. The Pinot Noir was a shock: it was a rosé but quite unlike any we'd ever tried. I seriously doubt we'd have identified it as such in a blind tasting. It had almost none of the traditional rosé sweetness and fruitiness; it was rather more full-bodied than a typical rosé and the taste was subtle, stony (again) and even somewhat earthy. A very interesting and unusual wine. The Cabernet Franc was a pleasant enough example of the breed with hints of herbs and grass over the baseline of understated fruit, but it was the Merlot which really blew us away. This was a big, full wine with plenty of dark fruit and just enough spice and earthiness to make a really well-balanced mouthful. We bought a bottle to go. 

The cheeses were all local to New York State with the sheep and cow's milk camenbert coming from Chatham Sheepherders Company, and the Ouray (earthy and buttery and made of unpasteurized cows milk) and Eden (firm nutty washed-rind cows milk) both coming from Sprout Creek Farm.

As we prepared to leave the cook gave us a bowl of roasted rosemary potatoes with a citrus aioli for dipping. Suffice to say that we shall be ordering one of those next time we visit, which will be soon. The Bridge Urban Winery is a very welcome addition to our neighbourhood.

The New Millennium Speakeasy: Underground Dinner Parties

On a whim last year we signed up for the mailing lists of several underground dinner party organizations (cabals?) here in NYC. We didn't make it to any of the parties, missing the October event hosted by Foodie NYC for reasons we can't remember, as well as the  November menu for Studiofeast because Jack was in London and Ann didn't want to go alone. But on Friday night the stars aligned and we managed to get ourselves to the latest Studiofeast dinner, prepared by Ilan Hall, winner of Top Chef, Season 2.

Studiofeast describes itself as an "invitation only culinary collective that focuses on promoting emerging and undiscovered gastronomic talent." Events are limited to a certain number of guests and the only way to get an invite is to get a spot on their mailing list. Until this event Mike Lee and Derek Yuen did all the cooking. This was the first of the "Studiofeast Presents" series, and was given on behalf of the West Side Campaign Against Hunger.
 

We got our invitation (with secret password and a link to the registration page) about ten days ahead of the event and promptly made a reservation. Our confirmation promised an email a few days before the feast with a map to the undisclosed location as well as suggested wines (available at a local wine shop they've partnered with).

Sure enough we got the secret map and suggested wine pairings, and were delighted to note that we'd only need to walk a few blocks to get to the dinner party. We did feel that three full bottles of wine were a bit much for the two of us in combination with three main courses, and decided to offer to share with another couple, if possible. Generally our preference is to just pay for wine pairings and have it all taken care of for us. However, it turned out that the bustling, sociable, unhurried nature of the event was such that wine was flowing freely until after midnight and people were sharing and exchanging contributions quite happily, so in fact it was just as well we brought all three bottles.

The venue turned out to be a beautiful and extensive old loft. We arrived promptly at 8:00 and were greeted warmly by the host, Mike. Things were already in full swing and it was immediately clear that this event was going to be slightly larger than we'd anticipated. By the time everyone was seated we estimated an attendance of around 90 diners. Naturally we peered into the kitchen and were puzzled to see a complete lack of food, food-related activity or, indeed, Ilan Hall! This mystery was soon explained when we met Ed from the loft next door: the food prep was all going on in there. Ed said it would be fine if we went to take a look so of course we did.

The picture above was taken in a hurry because it was clear the prep was at a fairly hectic stage and the look we got from Ilan made us suspect that, unlike Ed, he considered non-contributing gawkers somewhat less than "fine"!

At 9:00 the "amuse" was served. This was more like a full course than an amuse: a lightly-toasted slice of bread topped with a sizeable piece of melt-in-the-mouth-tender foie gras with balsamic reduction, dressed with a thin slice of serrano ham and slivers of spring onion. The toast was circles of rye bread made thin and crispy with the help of a panini machine.  A very impressive opener!

We were a little concerned about the first course proper-- Pork Tartare-- and noted a small disclaimer on the event registration page reading 'No menu substitutions or vegetarian options available. Menu is "as-is" and the entire Studiofeast experience is at your own risk. Consumption of raw or undercooked food may result in foodborne illness.' We wondered whether "tartare" was, in this instance, some sort of artistic culinary  code for... well, something that didn't really involve playing trichinellosis roulette! But no; when the dish arrived it was clear that Ilan really meant it. Not only were we presented with a pressed patty of raw pork over dressed spinach, it was topped with a raw quail's egg! Well, if you're going to play fast and loose with food health wisdom you might as well do so in a big way, I suppose. But here's the thing: it was delicious.

The picture doesn't do it justice but you get the idea. The little smear of popcorn emulsion (which had a smack of mustard about it) gave the necessary tang to contrast with the pork's almost rillette-like flavour, and the egg simply added unctuous, mouth-pleasing delight (there really ought to be more alternative adjectives for "unctuous" but so often it seems there's simply no better way to succinctly describe that moan-inducing feeling of sheer... unctuousness!)

We weren't keen on the first of the wine selections - the Foxglove 2006 Chardonnay. To be fair we're not big white wine fans anyway, and Chardonnay is one of our least favourite types, but this one just seemed distinctly ordinary. It tasted like a pretty standard, medium-bodied, vaguely buttery example of the breed. Not bad, just... uninspired. We swiftly moved on to the second wine - a 2006 Domaine La Garrigue Cotes Du Rhone. This was better. As young as the Chardonnay, it wore its youth with much more style and freshness. Medium bodied with top notes of light, very slightly metallic acidity but with just about enough fruitiness going on to balance things out. Again, not a stellar wine, but perfectly decent, and it went reasonably well with the pork.

We stayed with it for the next course too, which was bacon poached swordfish with "Ilan Chon" salad (comprising firm, woodsy mushrooms and crisp leaves - possibly Bok Choi). The fish was delicately cooked, wonderfully moist and tender, and the three main flavours were a successful combination: the asian-style veg and the hit of crisp bacon complementing the fish very well.

We moved on to the final wine selection: a 2002 Signa Marques de Concordia Rioja. This, we suspected, would be the best of the three for us, and we were right. We love big, dirty old reds and they don't come much bigger or dirtier than a good Rioja. This one was a sweaty, oaky classic with cellar dust on the nose and plump black fruit flavour in abundance. We loved it, and it was just the thing for the next dish: crispy American lamb breast with ginger and mint vinegar. Just prior to the serving of this dish Ilan had emerged from the kitchen and stood atop a table to explain how we were to eat it. The idea was that the succulent, fatty lamb should be dipped into the vinegar to provide the intended contrast of meaty and minty goodness. However, he had a problem: insufficient mint. So, to much laughter,  he asked if anyone had any Altoids! Someone did, so they tossed him the pack and he disappeared back into the kitchen. We have no idea whether he really used the Altoids in the mint and ginger vinegar but we hope he did. In any case, the results were great! Served with thin slices of roast potato, this dish was a satisfying finale to the main courses. Sadly, our attempts at photographing it were dismal (perhaps the wine was kicking in a little too hard by this stage). We had no luck getting a tolerable photo of the dessert - Scottish Rice Pudding - either so instead here's a picture of the three wines.

By the time the meal was over everyone was well lubricated, happy and sociable. Ilan, looking much more relaxed now the hard work was done, held court in the kitchen and chatted with anyone who cared to stop by. We forgot to ask whether he really used those Altoids but Jack complemented him on his, er, audacity with the pork dish and he laughed at the choice of word (at least we think that's what he was laughing at). We wandered out into the streets of Williamsburg well after midnight and decided to round off the evening with a visit to a couple of bars. By the time we got to bed it was well into the early hours and as a result yesterday was a bit of a write off for us both (hence the delay in getting this post up) but it was worth it for a fabulous and unusual evening. I think we may do this again!

Same As It Ever Was

Have a look at this slide show of twenty-one New Yorker magazine covers depicting food and dining. Only in New York and in the New Yorker.

Cookie Cutters, Pastry Bags and Parking Angst

Today was a work-at-home-day and I decided to pop over to Broadway Panhandler for some supples. And also to Sur la Table, because it's right near by and they have these very beautiful snowflake cookie cutters (above) in stock. And hey, I may not be Kuidaore, but I can dream, no?

I don't actually own a car. I mean, why would I? I can walk no further than a mile in any direction (or take a bus or subway) and find pretty much anything I can imagine wanting to buy, eat, see or do. Occasionally I rent a car--either because my job sometimes requires that I commute to New Jersey for several months or because I simply want to run errands. It's a good solution, actually, and the sporadic expense of renting is much, much less expensive than the ongoing expense of ownership. Car payments and insurance seem like a ludicrous expenditure in a city like New York.

But here is the thing. Parking is insane. Either you're spending a ridiculous amount to put the damned car in a lot or a garage or you're on the street. If you're on the street in SoHo you're probably parked illegally.

I won't get into the hell I went through to get parked and into the stores (I'm saving the hell stories for later), but I will tell you that I snagged some very cool stuff, including:

Those gorgeous copper cookie cutters

A very adorable mini pie ornament (which reminds me to plug The Mini Pie Revolution!)

A new flour sifter (my old one broke about fifteen years ago and I have been using a fine mesh sieve ever since, which is really dumb because it's messy and extremely boring to hit it with a wooden spoon hundreds of times until all of the dry ingredients have sifted through

New pastry bags and tips

Scalloped edge biscuit/cookie cutter rounds

Pretty sugars for sprinkling and white pearl dragees (the silver ones are nearly impossible to find anymore)

A mini muffin tin

All in all, a good shopping trip and mission accomplished.

But then I had to drive home and park again in Brooklyn. This involves a ritual directly related to alternate-side parking restrictions and mainly consisting of two activities: 1) driving in ever-widening circles around and around the neighborhood in a vain attempt to park on the non-street cleaning scheduled side of the street and ultimately failing; so that 2) you are doomed to a (usually failed) early morning dash to move the car (in ever widening circles) before receiving a ticket.

Sometimes you manage to park on the correct side of the street and then rejoice in knowing you can forget all about the car until that side of the street is due to be cleaned. This is rare and not always without problems. One evening I snagged a "good spot," meaning no early morning car shuffling and did, indeed, rejoice. The next morning I had a meeting in Manhattan and took the subway to work with a clear conscience. That afternoon, walking home, I passed the car and noted that it was completely blocked by a large municipal truck full of gravel, a small steam-roller thingy, several orange traffic cones, a wooden sawhorse-like barrier and a group of extremely angry men gesticulating and swearing at said vehicle. It seemed that the city had decided to fill the rather large pothole I was parked over. It also seemed that the angry men were in the process of calling a tow truck. I walked slowly, trying to hear what the plan was while also trying to look completely disconnected from the situation.

"I already called the tow," I heard, "be an hour at least. Let's go get something to eat."

I walked on, ducked into the doorway of my building, and watched until they drove off in the truck. Scuttling furtively back down the street, I assessed the situation. They'd left the steamroller, the cones and the sawhorse--presumably to pen the car in until the tow truck could arrive. I shoved the sawhorse out of the way, squeezed past the steamroller, and flattened the cones as I left. Frankly, I was more concerned about escape than respecting municipal property. Of course I then found myself driving in ever-widening circles...

Sometimes you're parked perfectly legally and find that someone had decided to MAKE A MOVIE WITHOUT ANY NOTICE OR WARNING SIGNS. You die a little inside when you realize the car is not there anymore. If you're really lucky you find that it's been towed to a new spot around the corner instead of just... towed.

Sometimes you think you've found a good spot and then realize yours was the minority opinion when the car disappears completely. I can't tell you how many websites I had to visit and numbers I had to call to track the thing down. It was a lot worse than driving in ever-widening circles. Every tow yard in New York claimed they didn't have it. Yet when I finally reported it stolen, it took the police about 30 seconds to find that it had been towed. To make a long, painful and convoluted story short, I'll just say that the paperwork containing the order to tow originated from the police but was missing when I visited the station; the tow yard could not release the car until the police authorized it; the police could not authorize release because the paperwork was missing; I was considered a nobody because I did not actually own the car. This went on for days, while I was still paying for the car, until finally I told the rental company I had no intention of paying beyond the moment I'd informed them of the problem. To this day I have no idea whether or not they ever got the damned thing back. I still have the keys on my desk as a reminder.

I think I'll go make some cookies now.

A Brooklyn Waterfront Walk

It was a cold, clear and crisp day so Ann and I went for brunch at the very wonderful Park Luncheonette. This place is one of the relatively few neighbourhood originals to have successfully adapted to the increasing hipsterisation of Williamsburg. It's been run by the same family for years and used to be a very traditional diner serving burgers, fries, shakes and - as a nod to the strong Polish contingent in the area - pierogi, knishes and so on. A couple of years ago they saw the writing on the wall and decided to evolve and recognise the changing face of Williamsburg. They tidied the place up a bit, kept the old-style look and feel but started serving what you might call American modern cuisine: classic but classy takes on American favourites. The food there now is wonderful without being in any way pretentious or over-fancy. So sure, you can get poached eggs on toast. But it comes with wild mushrooms, pesto and salad, and it tastes out of this world. We love it.

Suitably refreshed, Ann decided to head into Manhattan to do some shopping. I went for a walk along Williamsburg's grungy, run-down industrial waterfront to take some shots of the view towards Manhattan and to enjoy the cold sunlight. The East River is just a few yards from Kent Avenue and from there we have a great view of the old skyline. Sadly, recent excessive development of expensive condos and apartment blocks means that the long-time residents of the older buildings on Kent no longer do. Gentrification brings bad things as well as good.

Further south is our link to Manhattan, the ugly/beautiful Williamsburg Bridge. Back in 1998 one of my very first impressions of New York was just that: that its harsh yet imposing structures manage to be both brutally ugly and yet strangely beautiful. To this day Williamsburg still clearly shows the signs of its poor industrial past, especially here on the waterfront. Bleak and often disused buildings squat darkly beside the East River; the roads are full of suspension-breaking potholes; graffiti is everywhere. The area was - and is - home to large Polish, hispanic and Hasidic communities. In the mid nineties young and poor artists started to move in as word of the cheap and easily-had rentals went around. Hip cafes and bars started to dot the grubby streets. I first arrived to stay with Ann in 1998, at about the time this change was just starting to take off. By the time I came to live in the city in 2002 the word was well and truly out, and the culture clash of the old and new inhabitants was reaching something of a compromise. More cafes, restaurants bars and clubs were opening. Art galleries and shows sprang up next to local convenience stores and eastern orthodox churches. Soon we saw the monied professionals arriving with their young children. Williamsburg, it seems, had been softened up enough for them to feel safe. I suppose, on balance, this is a good thing, but I can't help feeling something vital and exciting has been lost.

The stark iron bones of the bridge remind me both of what Williamsburg was - grimily industrial - and what it has become: connected to the wider city, to the buzz of big brother Manhattan. It's as if some of the vibe and the wealth of the island slowly leaked out across that bridge and settled amongst these rotten old streets. The hipsters and artists have been  saying that Williamsburg is "over" for a few years now, and I know what they mean. But it isn't "over", it's just growing up. We still have the Polish butchers; we still have the Hasidic Jews with their ringlets and wacky garb; we still have the rowdy Dominicans and Puerto Ricans with their illegal street barbecues and horrible music... but now we also have yuppies, and rap stars like Busta Rhymes buying penthouses on top of the old Gretsch building while rich movie stars buy the super-expensive lofts below for their spoilt kids. Whatever grudges we might occasionally feel are softened by the realisation that all this means that Williamsburg is alive, not dead. It could easily have been a true wasteland by now.

And besides, the artists, bohemians and boho-wannabes haven't gone away. Not all of them. That's why you can still see things like this here!

Moen's: Quality Comestibles

M. Moen & Sons is, as you will see from our sidebar, a food shop we love. They describe themselves as butchers, and indeed they are, but to call Moen's merely a butcher's shop is a little like calling Fauchon a sweet shop. Sure, Moen's does meat: it does organic and free range meat of absolutely stunning quality and variety; from game birds and beasts to top-quality beef, from superb home-made sausages to patés and home-cured deli specialities. But it also sells fruit and veg, fresh bread, smoked salmon, olive (and other) oils, various vinegars, pesto, sauces, pickles... to enter Moen's small but beautifully laid out space is to be instantly surrounded by a colourful and enticing cornucopia of culinary delights.

There is an eclectic cheese counter filled with British and continental varieties. There are luscious olives of many types, some of which have marinades so delicious it's tempting to finish them off with a spoon after the olives are gone (a temptation I rarely manage to resist).

In spite of all the vegetarian diversions, Moen's is still primarily about meat. It's a carnivore's paradise. I haven't found a better place in London for a truly top-notch steak or a juicy, flavourful sausage. But I must just mention the egg custard tarts. Egg custard tart is a traditional British dish made primarily with eggs, butter, sugar, cream and flour, and usually topped with a sprinkle of nutmeg. It's delicious. My mother's version is wonderful, but it can't compare with the moen... I mean moan-inducing, melt-in-the-mouth ecstasy that is the Moen's individual egg custard tart. I don't know what they do to make them so special. They're a little sweeter than a typical example but that alone cannot fully explain their almost crack-like addictive qualities. When I was recently in London I bought four of the little beauties, intending to have not more than one per day. Riiight. After two days I had to go back to stock up. Ann knew I'd be indulging in such sinful custardy ways and (this is true) set her Facebook status to,  "Ann is unhappy that Jack will be having Moen's custard tarts and she will not", for the entire duration of my stay. Moen's produce does this to you. It ruins you forever. In the best possible way.