Deconstructed Guacamole Salad

As a rule, I hate deconstructed food. Sure. I thought it was the bee's knees back in 2007. Now I find it utterly obnoxious. And on most occasions, when presented with something bearing no resemblance to what I ordered, rather than being amazed, I must fight the urge to send a throwing star hurling through the kitchen.

So yes, I am aware of the irony with which I share this recipe. That said, I also love guacamole. And while its transcendent when paired with blue corn tortilla chips, I don't want to eat a giant scoop of it on a bed of lettuce. And so I've come up with this delightful compromise:

Deconstructed Guacamole Salad

Start with a bed of lettuce. For the purposes of this salad, I love a boston bibb. Cut an avocado in half; remove the pit. Cupping half in the palm, segment with a teaspoon; scoop the segments onto the center of the lettuce bed. Surround with 5-6 grape tomatoes sliced in half. Take a shallot, cut paper thin rings. Scatter 10-12 shallot rings over the salad. Slice a jalapeno or serrano (depending on your heat tolerance) into thin rings. Evenly distribute across the salad based on how spicy you want it; I typically use 6-7 rings. Mince about 1 teaspoon of cilantro and scatter. Cut a lime in half; squeeze the juice over the top. Sprinkle with a little sea salt.

And that's it. It is the same ingredients and roughly the same proportions I'd use to make guacamole. But as individual components, it makes a wonderful salad that pairs well with gazpacho for a light lunch, or a starter for a latin or seafood dinner.



What the Ninja loves about Singapore

I have a confession:  I adore South East Asia.  If you tell me I can go anywhere in the world and you're picking up the tab.... well... let's hope you have a lot of frequent flier miles. This was, however, my first trip to Singapore.  And it it did not disappoint.  So for this edition of recommendations, we're focusing on things the Ninja loves about Singapore.  

Hawker Centers:

It might seem a tad bizarre that I can enjoy the French Laundry and asian street food on an equal basis.  I assure you it is not.   And that, friends, is one of the many things about Asia that I love.  On this venture, my friend and I hit the Golden Mile Food Center.  Imagine the concessions at your local stadium.  Now imagine three stories of that.  Now imagine all you have to focus on is the food. Welcome to South East Asia. Naturally we did a loop and whittled down our choices.  He wanted duck and elected the traditional Asian roast style and rice.  I had my eye on two things.   The first was a fresh lime juice, which I downed shortly after ordering it.  I'd say it's like lemonade but with lime... yet it isn't.  It's not sweet.  Asian limes are like key limes... but not quite. (Frankly that's one of the things I most enjoy about traveling.  You inevitably encounter something that reminds you of home but its Not Kwite Write... NKW.) That was followed by mee gareng.... AKA Singapore noodles. Fresh made egg noodles sauteed with basically whatever you want.  I did veggies and scallops.  A dab of chili sauce on the side.  Prepared as I watched.... about $2.  And far better than most things I eat on a normal basis.  Yes, yes.  I know food trucks are the big thing these days.  It's nothing like that.  It's local folks doing things the way they've always done them.  Like coming home with a dear friend... watching Grandpa make hand-pressed sugar cane juice for you while Grandma fries the just caught fish with chili and noodles. All the while a hundred other people swarm around you.  And yet you feel perfectly....perhaps inexplicably.... at home. 

TWG Tea:

 I'm a sucker for tea, so when my guide book recommended this spot I figured I'd pick up a few asian style buds and get back on the road.  I was not prepared for a full on tea salon pulled from the annuls of British colonialism.  The possible selections and their descriptions were presented in a J. Peterman style catalog exceeding 90 pages in length.  This opus also detailed the history of tea throughout the world and included instructions on brewing the perfect pot.  I selected a Royal Thai Oolong, while my friend chose the Jade Dragon Green.  And while perhaps their folio descriptions waxed a bit poetic, it was probably the finest cup of tea I've had.  I managed to resist the very tempting menu, consisting not only of your typical high tea fare, but numerous dishes incorporating the various brews.  My friend opted for a scoop of ice cream made with a blend of Singapore Breakfast tea which produced raves throughout.  TWG also sells each of their teas, so I left with a bag of my oolong, as well as two of their proprietary blends to sample at home.  



 



Coconuts:


Coconut water is ubiquitous these days.  But I assure you, those little card board containers bare no resemblance to the real thing.  Its been a couple years since I've had the pleasure so I was compelled to sample one while passing through the food stalls in Chinatown.  And it reminded me why I've found every attempt at coconut water I've sampled since to be an utter disappointment.  After placing your order, you grab a seat while the vender proceeds to hack a pentagon shaped hole into the top with a machete, slipping in a straw and spoon for good measure.  The straw provides a dignified way to drink the coconut water, a pure clear liquid devoid of the sweetness found in the commercial brands.  The spoon can be used to dig out the thin layer of flesh on the inside.  Moist, with a slightly gelled consistency, it's hard to believe this coconut is in any way related to the bagged flakes on your local supermarket shelf.



Seafood:

  Given Singapore's location at the tip of the Malay peninsula, its no surprise that seafood is easy to come by.  Chili Crab is largely considered the national dish.  Here the giant crustaceans are stir fried in the shell, then presented in a vat of spicy chili sauce.  The crabs are sold per 100 gram; the “small” ones are about 2kg. For those of you lacking in metric conversions, that's a 4.4 lb crab.  In the seafood quarters massive tanks display a variety of stone and king crabs individually topping 20lbs.  And much like diamonds, the bigger the individual carat, the more expensive.  We split a 2.2kg Sri Lankan which came in at the equivalent of $120.  So rather than working through a bushel of blue crabs, you're getting the convenience of dismantling one.  Its still an ungodly mess.... exacerbated in this case by the pool of sauce in which it's swimming.  But it's delicious all the same.  Now I just need to find 10 people to go in with me on a whole king crab.  And frankly you just have to love any place that sticks your pitcher of Tiger in a Champagne bucket.
 

Singapore Slings 

If the Chili crab is the national dish, then the Singapore Sling is the national cocktail.  And when in Rome as they…. But if you are going to indulge, you may as well do so at the bar that invented this gin and fruit juiced based concoction: The Long bar at the Raffles Hotel.  The Raffles itself is a stunning reminder of British colonial grandeur.  An imposing white edifice taking up a full city block and sheltering numerous porticos and lush gardens hidden behind its walls.  Once on the premises the Long Bar requires a little commitment to find, but proves to be worth the effort.  Stepping through the doors is much like stepping back in time.  A large well shaded room awaits, complete with a network of rattan fans helping to circulate the breeze.  Dark wood helps to create the ambiance along with the typical trappings you'd expect to find in a typical English watering hole of this nature.  And of course, heaping bowls of peanuts on the table, shells on the floor, and pigeons taking brief bouts of flight only to aloft in the rafters or waddle amongst the peanut shells.  The Raffles actually offers 6 different types of slings.  But about certain things I'm a purist.  Besides… How can you possibly sample the variations if you've not had the original?  And it was a delight.  I tend not to drink fruit based cocktails, but I do love gin, and the combination was the perfect antidote for the hot south asian afternoon.  And reproduced here for your imbibing pleasure, the official Singapore Sling recipe from the Raffles Hotel:

Raffles Hotel Singapore Sling Recipe
1 oz (30 ml) Gin
1/2 oz (15 ml) Cherry Brandy
4 oz (120 ml) Pineapple Juice
1/2 oz (15 ml) Lime Juice
1/4 oz (7.5 ml) Cointreau
1/4 oz (7.5 ml) Dom Benedictine
1/3 oz (10 ml) Grenadine
Dash of Angostura Bitters

Mix well.

Singapore: PS Cafe

In the quiet area known as Dempsey lies a hidden oasis inside the bustle of the city.  PS Cafe had gotten rave reviews on most of the journals I researched, and after stomping around the city streets, I welcomed the opportunity for a brief respite in the foliage.  As the taxi progressed along the winding streets, the skyscrapers became a distant memory.  The first thing I noticed as I opened the door was the intoxicating and unmistakable scent of truffle.  I didn't know where it was on the menu, but I knew I was going to get it.  The second thing I noticed was the dizzying display of cakes on the bar.  About 10 different varieties.  Each homemade, and all looked delicious.  Good thing it was only lunch as I might resist the temptation.  The weather was lovely, so we selected a table outside in the shade.  Inspired by the temperature, we ordered a some suitable cocktails; a Ginger Margarita for me while my friend selected a green apple mojito  Gazing at the menu, it seemed the truffle fries were likely the culprit I'd detected at the door.  Done.  But as one cannot live on french fries alone, I continued my search.  While the cuisine is distinctly western, PS incorporates the local ingredients to create something with a little…. je ne sais quoi.  I selected a spicy shrimp salad; my companion went with the croque monsieur.  Then we kicked back to enjoy the ambiance.  The fries appeared first, their arrival heralded by that amazing aroma.  Piled high in delicate matchsticks, they were perfectly cooked and lightly infused with truffle.  I knew resisting the entire pile would be a significant personal accomplishment.  Fortunately my salad was not far behind.  And it was their perfect counter balance to the street food and other goodies.  Fresh shrimp…. fresh local veggies… limes… chili…. sigh.  My friend's croque blew standard bistro fare out of the water.  Noticeably quality ham.  The obligatory cheese was a layer of top quality Gruyère caramelized on top as opposed to a horrid all encompassing blanket of deli swiss.  Even I was impressed.  We had a leisurely lunch on peninsula time, enjoying a perfect afternoon.  And while we did eschew dessert, we caved for another round of drinks.  In this climate, how can you not???

Singapore: My Humble House

When it comes to international cuisine... I've been around.  I've consumed parts of animals I don't even want to think about, dined at establishments in foreign lands that would send a health inspector into cardiac arrest, and sampled the delicacies of countries I'll likely never visit.  But until recently, I've associated Chinese food with an act of desperation.  A guilty pleasure, if you will, of outlandishly fried and sauced proteins, wilted vegetables in gelatinous goo, the structurally unsound white paper boxes that contain them, and packets of duck sauce and mustard which appear to multiply like gremlins if you don't keep a watchful eye.  I've never had Chinese Cuisine.  Until, at least, I ventured to My Humble House in Singapore's Esplanade.

Entering the dining room is much like visiting a dinner party co-hosted by the Mad Hatter and Dr. Seuss.  The decor seamlessly incorporates elements of the modern and whimsical to create a scene that is both formal and enchanting.  A space where you feel you've tumbled down the rabbit hole to find a  place some how you've known all along.  Add into that the fabulous views of the Singapore marina and it elevates ambiance to a whole new level.

My Humble House draws on multiple styles of Chinese cookery, and the abundant seafood which Singapore has to offer plays a starring roll.  My friend and I had the good fortunate to visit during the Chinese New Year, in honor of which the restaurant featured an impressive array of tasting menus, as well as a la carte options.  Now the Ninja is, as you might guess, never one to shy away from multiple courses of deliciousness.  Unless, apparently she's severely jetlagged, in which case about 2 courses are all she can manage.  So my companion and I strategically broke up the menu to get a bit of a cross section.  As we perused the menu, we were presented with an artfully arranged pile of jerky strips on a pristine white tray accompanied by spicy dipping sauce in an oriental spoon.   Now this is certainly more interesting than your standard bread basket.  I snag a strip with my chopsticks and discover a delightful smoked pork with hints of sweetness, immediately followed by spice and garlic.  Think mini bacon on Asian steroids, and you'll come close.   We finally reach a decision: for me the fried shiitake mushrooms and the steamed garoupa fish; for him the fried lobster and wok seared prawns.

As we're waiting for course one, we've been commenting on the giant chopsticks which were included along with the standard set.  These are about 2 foot long and as thick as my ring finger.  So not your usual take out cast aways.  From across the room we hear a cacophony, and turn to see a group of ten locals on their feet with massive chopsticks in hand.  They begin vigorously attacking a bowl in front of them.  We learn from our waiter that this act is a New Year tradition. Like the stomping of grapes, the communal tossing of noodles is a custom which becons prosperity in the new year.  We're invited to join in, but as both of us are barely managing to keep vertical, we politely decline.

Fortunately, I'm rescued by my first course.  To say it defies expectations would be an understatement.  Three towers, each containing a lightly and perfectly fried shiitake, a little wasabi, another shiitake, a coin of fried lotus root, topped with a few kernels of fresh mango and chili.  Wow.  Seriously.  Wow. Shiitakes are tricky to begin with; one of the few mushrooms that must be fully cooked to actually digest.  It was perfectly tender.  The batter; like a gossamer web.  I'm in heaven.  Its Chinese.  It's extraordinary.  And there is nary an egg roll to be found.  Meanwhile my companion's lobster dish arrives.  Now, had you asked me a few days ago I'd have told you fried lobster was blasphemy and probably would have facilitated your burning at the nearest stake.  But, again, they achieved a level of perfection with something that requires a delicate touch.  Lobster is not forgiving.  You're operating in a very fine window between raw and over cooked.  So to pull it off while fried is not insignificant.  The sauce was a tad too sweet for my companion, but he still appreciated the overall effect. (This is probably the time to tell you that citrus is the thing for Chinese new year.  Think of it as a poinsettia you can cook with.  Oranges and their cousins adorn every building and are incorporated into the food for the occasion.)

Then came the second course.  I had a steamed garoupa over a bed of bitter greens with a ginger and tangerine infused broth. It was simple and lovely.  The fish was perfectly done; and the accouterments executed with precision and paired well with the fish.  Now if you recall earlier, I mentioned my friend had selected prawns for the second course.  He received lobster. Only a total moron complains about getting lobster.... and so he did not.  Unfortunately the preparation was a little too similar to his appetizer.  So while again, perfectly executed... still too sweet.  So much for diversification....

Be that as it may, we counted our first meal in Singapore a resounding success, and lament that a 13 hour time difference has rendered us incapable of celebrating like a local.  Alas.  But now I have a worthy goal for a future Chinese New Year.  And if you come at me with a bowl of General Tso's.... prepare for a throat punch.


Manhattan: Eataly

New York is chock full of restaurants by famous chefs. Some are famous in largely in culinary circles, whereas others are their own national brand boasting television shows, cookbooks, and a line of products. Some food lovers go out of their way to visit these celebrity haunts; others deride them as overrated culinary amusement parks. I'm just looking for a good meal, and when a colleague recommended Mario Battali's new project Eataly I was intrigued.

Eataly isn't a restaurant in the traditional sense- its also a market. Occupying a full city block on Fifth avenue, Eatlay is styled to reflect a walk down an italian street. There's counters for espresso, gelato, chocolates, paninis, and pastries where one can just grab a quick pick me up. For something more substantial, there are a series of little food counters throughout featuring cheese, chacuterie, seafood, pizza, pasta, vegetables, a rotisserie and a raw bar. Each spot offers its own kitchen and own cafe style seating. For something for formal, Manzo, offers a culinary tour of meat in a full restaurant experience.

This was not my first visit; but it's a place I love to return. What has impressed me the most it the quality of the ingredients and the originality of the dishes. Please there's so many options, the culinary permutations are limitless. I'm currently in the process of working my way through the various food counters; on my most recent visit, Le Cuillère and I paid a visit to the Pizza and Pasta cafe.

Like most Italian restaurants, the meal began with the obligatory bread and olive oil. I am a big believer in the small details at a restaurant because in my mind, if a place puts a lot of effort into the things that are easy to overlook, they are likely to do the really important stuff well. And the bread olive oil/butter combination can fall anywhere along the scale from an after thought to pure gluteny heaven. At Eataly it was positively transcendent. The olive oil was so good, I bought a bottle of the same to use in my own kitchen. (One of the perks of Eatlay as since it is also a market, you can in many cases purchase the ingredients you just ate. )

Le Cuillère elected to order from the pizza menu; beginning with the day's special salami selection, and finishing with the calzone.  I chose the pasta kitchen, starting off with a winter vegetable salad and housemade ravioli. At our server's recommendation we both started with a glass of the Valle D'Asota Torrette Superieure, a special feature for the month of December.

Eventually, we were able to pull ourselves away from the bread and oil with the arrival of the first course. Le Cuillère was presented with a board of paper thin salamis; he was in heaven.  Each of the four varieties had its own distinct (and delicious!) character; Le Cuillere slowly and with great relish worked his way through each type, silently expressing his delight with wide smiles, rolling eyes and deep groans of gastric pleasure.  My salad was a crisp medly of roughly chopped cauliflower, celery root, fennel and apple in a lemon vinaigrette. The construction was well executed and perfect of the wet december afternoon.

The arrival of the main course was heralded by the intoxicating smell of Le Cuillère's calzone. A homemade half moon of bread stuffed with ricotta, mozzarella, tomato sauce, parmigiano, ham and fresh basil appeared before Le Cuillère. It was a divine combination, evocative of a secret family recipe and balanced to perfection; many calzones err on the side of too much sauce, or end up a gooey mess of mozzarella. The ham, in a most welcome departure from most "assembly line" Italian stops, was sliced paper-thin and cured to perfection.  My ravioli was stuffed with fresh ricotta and spinach, tosses in a lemon butter sauce with pistachio. The crunch of the nuts added a needed textural element, the lemon butter sauce was the perfect compliment, not overstepping on the subtlty of the ricotta.

Following the meal, we took a tour of the market. Eataly features the finest ingredients and already prepared pastas and other items you can take home and make yourself. I resisted the urge to blow my savings on truffles and settled for the olive oil. We each grabbed a double espresso from the coffee bar, and set out to brave the damp December air, content and filled with the warmth of Italian home cooking.