From Europe to the Caribbean

As should be evident from my post below, I'm back from my time spent farming in Europe. It was great fun and I ate a lot of great food and hopefully, someday soon when I'm more organized, I'll share some photos and descriptions of a few of the things I ate abroad. For now, though, let's focus on the more recent past. Though I did indeed dine well during my stays in Spain and France, there were a few flavors that I started to miss, like all kinds of Asian food, and, especially, spicy food. So just a few days after my return, I met my friend Malcolm at one of my very favorite takeout joints, Errol's Caribbean Bakery.


Located on the corner of Flatbush Avenue and Hawthorne Street in the area of Brooklyn traditionally known as Flatbush but newly minted by real estate agents as Lefferts Gardens, Errol's is a true neighborhood spot. The first time I visited, it was late one summer night, close to midnight, and Errol's was one of the few spots on Flatbush Avenue that was open. A few friends and I walked in, expecting to find the place mostly empty. Yet while we waited for our food, a steady stream of people came and left, chatting familiarly with the amiable folks behind the counter. Before I even tasted a morsel, I had a good feeling about Errol's: it was warm, friendly, and homey. And, possibly more importantly, it was bursting with many kinds of delicious-looking baked goods:


That's because in addition to offering a wide array of hot, savory dishes, Errol's stays true to its name by serving up a variety of freshly made breads, rolls, cakes and other kinds of sweets. Every one I've tried has been great: from soft, sliced whole wheat loaves to more Caribbean-specific delicacies like currant rolls, soft yeasted rolls studded with currants, and both regular and whole wheat versions of bread pudding, which are huge, thick squares of dense, not-too-sweet custard. I can't remember the exact prices of these items, but I do know that they are very cheap, somewhere in the neighborhood of a dollar for individual servings, and are served in generous portions. But let's get to the hot part of the menu, shall we? You can choose from the following options:


There's a lot of good stuff there, to be sure, but if you're anything like me, you'll go for an order of the stew chicken: for a small ($5), you'll get two large pieces of tender, juicy bone-in chicken cooked down in a dark, rich sauce, served with rice and peas, cabbage and two soft, sweet plantains. Now that's a recession special I can really get behind. I can personally attest, also, to the outstanding quality of the curry goat, the curry chicken, and the jerk chicken--they're all fresh-tasting and delicious--but the star of the show, for me, is the stew chicken:


So if you find yourself in Brooklyn craving some cheap, flavorful and filling Caribbean delights, check out Errol's in Lefferts Gardens. I can assure you that you won't be disappointed.

Thanksgiving leftovers, Chinese style

After all the shopping, preparation and cooking, Thanksgiving is over and everything has returned to normal (except, perhaps, our waistlines). If you hosted or even attended the holiday meal, it's a pretty sure bet that you've got some leftover turkey in your fridge at this very moment. Not to fear: at this time of year, food publications all over the country are printing recipe after recipe designed to make use of the excess bird: some more traditional, some less so. The recipe I'm sharing today definitely falls into the latter camp. Now don't get me wrong: my favorite Thanksgiving leftovers are, most certainly, of the traditional ilk. My personal choice has always been, and always will be, a sandwich of turkey and cranberry sauce on rye (the only appropriate bread for a Jewish Thanksgiving gathering). But I have to admit that after eating one, two or three of these beauties and still being left with turkey to use up, my tastebuds start to crave something a little less familiar and a little more exciting.

Such was the position I found myself in earlier today. With stomach grumbling, I opened the fridge door and noticed two items: a Ziploc bag of sliced turkey meat generously gifted to me by my grandmother, and a small container of white rice that I had prepared earlier in the week before going out of town for the holiday. Instantly I had it: fried rice. Leftovers, basically, were created for fried rice: I've talked about it on here before, and I'm sure I will again. That's because once you've got a standing supporting cast of Asian condiments like soy sauce, sesame oil and chili paste on hand, the glory of fried rice can be yours at almost any moment: nearly any kind of protein, no matter how it was originally seasoned, or any kind of cooked vegetable, can be cut up and thrown into fried rice, and it will taste good. Take my word for it. Or go a step further and try this recipe yourself.



Turkey Fried Rice
Makes 1 serving

1. Cut a small portion of leftover cooked turkey meat into a small dice. Set aside.
2. Defrost a generous handful of frozen peas or frozen mixed vegetables by placing them in a bowl and covering with hot water.
3. Mince 1 - 2 garlic cloves and cook in vegetable oil in a large wide skillet or wok set over a medium flame.
4. After 2 minutes, add a serving of leftover cooked rice. Heat through, adding soy sauce, sesame oil, sriracha or chili paste and Chinese preserved vegetables, if available, to taste (about 1 teaspoon each).
5. Drain the peas and add them to the pan. Add the turkey meat to the pan. Stir frequently to heat everything through.
6. In a small bowl, beat 1 egg. Add it to the pan, stirring constantly, to break up and cook the egg. Taste the rice for seasoning and serve with a handful of chopped fresh cilantro.

Eating Club: Staten Island Ferry to Little Sri Lanka

Anatomy of a Sri Lankan buffet plate (clockwise from the papadum): leeks, dhal, eggplant, chicken curry, potato, bitter gourd, coconut sambol, goat curry, and kingfish curry; mango and pineapple chutney, yellow rice (center).

***

For many, the Staten Island ferry is not so much a form of transportation but rather a free, fail-safe way to entertain out-of-town guests: hop aboard, point out the Statue of Liberty, and wait in the Staten Island ferry terminal for the next boat back to Manhattan. But Staten Island is not merely a turn-around point nor an imagined place--a netherland--where Hans van den Broek plays cricket in Joseph O'Neill's Netherland. In fact, among other groups, Staten Island is home to more than 1/3 of New York's Sri Lankan population. Interesting note: while there are ethnic clashes in the mother country, Tamils and Sinhalese are at peace in Staten Island's Sri Lankan enclave (at least according to a somewhat dated City Limits article).

This month, the MTA Dining Car--a monthly eating club devoted to outer borough trekking--headed to Staten Island. The destination: Sanrasa's $11 Sunday buffet in Tompkinsville (aka Little Sri Lanka), just a 10-minute walk from the ferry terminal on Staten Island.

We gazed out of the rain-slickened ferry window, searching for the Manhattan skyline. It was the kind of gloomy afternoon in which one realizes: winter is nearly upon us once more. And yet, we knew the meal to come would warm our hearts and sinuses with hot chilis and fiery curries, chasing away the onslaught of seasonal despair.

The view from the ferry's bow: in the distance, the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge; in the foreground, what appears to be the kind of kiddy gate that one might use on a staircase.


Bay Street en route to Tompkinsville.

There's something vaguely Soviet about Staten Island.


On the exterior of the Cargo Cafe, thanks to the handywork of the local Budos Band, a pirate fights a fire-breathing dragon beneath a "Starry Night"-inspired sky. Previously, paintjobs by artist Scott LoBaido have included scenes of King Kong and giant parakeets with humans dangling out of their mouths. For the Cargo Cafe's interior, self-described "Creative Patriot" LoBaido once painted a portrait of Rudy Giuliani as a Roman soldier atop a rearing stallion, raising a billowing American flag with the flagpole doing double duty as a spear--which Giuliani uses to slay a demon/terrorist in the wreckage of what appears to be the Twin Towers.

Just up the street: a more conceptual painting, which the Cargo Cafe's manager thought to be a LoBaido as well.

One house still featured Halloween decorations. (Yes, that's a toy puppy with a knife in its skull.)

At long last! The Sanrasa buffet spread. Earthenware pots are to Sri Lankan food what the slow cooker is to flyover state American food: a sign of home cooking.

For the dhal, the lentils are simmered in coconut milk along with turmeric, cumin seed, red chili, and clove. Sanrasa owner Sanjay Handapangoda pan-roasts the spices himself.

Bitter gourd ("karvilla" in Sinhalese) is sliced, fried, and tossed with raw red onion, vinegar, mustard seed, and green chilis for a multilayered sweet and tangy flavor. If you assume Sri Lankan food to be a variant of Indian food, this dish will convince you otherwise.


The implicit question of the buffet is: how to stop? Returning to the buffet line "just for dessert" (see mango mousse in lower-right corner), one might then look down to see a full plate of chicken curry, yellow rice, dhal, pineapple chutney, bitter gourd, and coconut sambol (an all-purpose sweet and spicy condiment of grated coconut, chili, and lemon juice).

And yet: somehow we stopped eating, boarded the ferry, and watched Staten Island grow distant from the aft-end of the boat.

In the end, the sun came out just in time for it to set. Even if you live in New York, in moments like these, you're allowed to take photos with a tourist's unselfconscious sense of awe.

-Kiera Feldman

The MTA Dining Car: D/M/N/R to 36th

Last month, the MTA Dining Car -- a monthly eating club devoted to good food, good company, and outer borough trekking -- headed to Bay Ridge for Palestinian food, filling every seat at Tanoreen. The procession of courses was endless. Surely, everyone longed for relaxed-fit pants. And the same was true of the previous month's Thai feast at Sripraphai in Woodside, Queens (0f note: it is not an exaggeration to say that the red snapper changed us all).

This month, in lieu of our usual sit-down, family-style $20 prix fixe meal, we opted for a more freeform, el cheapo (~ $10/person) approach: the taco tour. Diners met at Brooklyn's Sunset Park on a warm and breezy Sunday afternoon and then headed south on 5th ave.

First stop: Tacos Xochimilco at 45th st. There was much disagreement as to the best taco--some said chorizo, others argued for carne asada, and I think one person even made a case for lengua. But everyone concurred that the staff, seemingly unperturbed by the (normally frowned upon) big group/small order combo, was kind of saintly.

By the end of taco round #1, the MTA Dining Car numbers had swelled with latecomers; concerned that the taco tourists might seem an obnoxious hoard, an executive decision was made to send out smaller scouting parties with food orders para llevar and then regroup in Sunset Park, whereupon the taco tour would morph into a taco (and assorted taqueria fare) pass-around. One group headed across the street to Tacos Matamoros, another headed down to 51st to Ricos Tacos, and a third group picked up a sampling of desserts at Ines 24-hour Bakery on 4th ave and 36th. (Plans to hit up two 4th ave taco trucks were quickly abandoned: evidently the 36th st truck is only there evenings, and--make of it what you will--no one volunteered to journey to the truck at 60th.)

When you take a bite of the carne asada torta from Matamoros, you know: this is no mass produced beef patty but rather a slab of grilled beef. Something that once lived and breathed. Something that had a mother.

The carne asada taco from Matamoros: lightly sprinkled with cilantro and onion, and a perfect texture-flavor union of charred, salty, and crunchy.

One diner double-fisted a carne asada torta and a Ricos carnitas taco, as if unable to choose between the two. (Ricos tacos were a group favorite. Look at that wrapper bleed-through!)


With French cuisine, you eat sorbet to cleanse the palate; Indian food uses raita; and with Central American food, might I recommend flan? It's slightly sweet yet balanced by the understated savory of egg--cool and refreshing to a tongue that's spent the last few hours awash in the meat juices of enough animals to comprise a barnyard. Plus, after all that tiresome work of flesh gnawing and tearing, a gelatinous course proves restorative.


Behold the towering decadence of Tres Leches cake. With each successive dessert pass, one diner--as if performing a public service--would instruct the new Tres Leches cake holder, "Eat from below!" And the advice was sound: moistened with condensed milk, the bottom layer is, indeed, the most gooey and delicious--and a bit of a spoiler for all cakes you'll eat henceforth in that they'll seem a dry disappointment. Sorry.


And so, as the afternoon faded into evening, we concluded the taco tour in Sunset Park at the eponymous hour, looking out over a pink hued Brooklyn and lower Manhattan; in the distance, the Statue of Liberty rose out of the water. Sighing with contentment, we descended the park steps and headed for the subway, bound for our respective homes, where we would nap.

-Kiera Feldman (with photos by Jen Ball)

Hasta luego, à bientôt

Later tonight, I'm getting on a plane and flying to Madrid, Spain. From there, I'll travel to the region of Asturias in the northwest of the country, where I'll be volunteering on a small-scale vegetable farm that I found through the organization called WWOOF. After a month there, I'll pack up and head to a different farm, located in the southeast of France, where I will remain for one month before flying home.

As I've made evident on the blog, I've been getting pretty into gardening on my deck lately. So I thought I'd take a little time on some actual farms to see how this growing thing really works. I figure it will only serve to expand my knowledge of food and its production. What I learn will no doubt be relevant to what I usually write about here on the blog. So I'm going to try to do my best to update here, when I can, with some photos and observations. Wish me luck!