Gingerbread

Like a sneaky little pointy-booted fellow, the festive season crept up on us this year. Two weeks ago, it wasn't even scarf weather, and now, boom: chill, bare trees, and someone's lit a giant tree in midtown. Time to make a gingerbread house.

Neighborhood Veg Tour

Nothing rouses me from the grumps better than human industry.  If I ever feel sour when I get off the bus in my neighborhood after a long day, I'm immediately cheered up by all the vegetable growing that's going on around here.  Everywhere where there's space someone's got a productive little plant (squashes, peppers, figs, grapes--just a couple of things I've clocked). There's even a little patch of corn in someone's front yard!  Bless the person who grows corn in their front yard.

Municipal Barbecue Part II

Another trip out to grill.  This time we headed to the shores of Meadow Lake in Flushing Meadow Park to barbecue while watching the sun set near Shea Stadium, or whatever they call it now.  Since the Mets were playing, we were treated to a blimp flyover while we cooked.

Hurricane Irene's backsplash was evident in the height of Meadow Lake and a couple of downed trees, one of which made a very good seat next to our barbecue pit.  Since Flushing Meadow was built on what used to be the city's ash heap, it felt appropriate to add to the ashes of my ancestors.  (Their fuel ashes, don't be macabre.)

Unos pican

Prone to fits of wanderlust, I'm always happy to find foods that will transport me elsewhere, especially this summer, which is starting to look like it's going to have an all-work-and-no-play flavor to it. That's why I was pleased to find pimientos de padrón, which can, with the right beer, transport me to a Spanish bar. If you were in a Spanish bar, or sitting in a plastic resin chair outside of our apartment, you might enjoy a little plate of these pimientos, which are served as a little snack. There is a small catch with pimientos de padrón, which, incidentally, come from Galicia, and that is this: unos pican, y otros no.  This means that some are hot, and some are not. A crapshoot! You are warned; every once in a while you'll get a piquant one.

Pimientos de padrón are very easy to prepare--heat a cast iron skillet with some olive oil (don't be shy) and throw in the pimientos. When they're done, toss them with a course salt and serve. Make sure to have little glasses of cold beer on hand and some chairs on the street to watch the passing parade. Cheaper than a plane ticket.

Gazpacho

The newest member of my family is a cherry-red blender. In order to justify its purchase, I've been blending things at a monstrous clip.

Last year I was fortunate enough to spend some time in Spain, and while I was there, I bought a liter of store-bought gazpacho nearly every day. Since I've bagged Spain for Queens, I knew I had to make provision for my own supply.

I bought some tomatoes the other day to feed my beautiful new little friend. For the second time in a few months, the first being when Chris Engel came to visit with a bakewell tart and the F train nearly turned his cream into butter, the IND (the B train, to be precise) had a hand in our food preparation. Heroically I threw myself onto the train as the doors were closing (I have a long commute). The doors closed on me and my tomatoes. Ha ha, joke's on you, B train, I thought, I'm making gazpacho. Squish all you want, you're not as good as my little red blender.

For gazpacho you'll need (this made about a quart and a half):
6 tomatoes
1 cucumber
1/4 large red onion
1 clove garlic, grated
2-3 tablespoons red wine vinegar or to taste
A lashing or two of extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 cup or so breadcrumbs
Salt to taste

Start by boiling some water and submerging the tomatoes in them for a minute to make them easier to peel. Once they've cooled marvel at how their skin bags off like they were molting. Remove the seeds and deposit the tomatoes in the blender. Chop the cucumber and onion roughly and add to the blender with grated garlic, vinegar, oil, breadcrumbs, and some salt. Blend. Adjust seasoning.  Serve in a little bowl or do what I do, drink it out of a glass like you have no time for spoons.  This made enough for a little snack for four.

Municipal Barbecue

We take our show on the road. First, a trip to Western Beef in Flushing on a very hot day to get the most out of the store's large refrigerated meat section. I picked up an armload of corn and a largeish watermelon, and enjoyed trying to decide what type of chiles to buy. I also picked up a family pack of country-style ribs. Then reluctantly back into the heat.

There are many things that I am grateful for; high on the list at the moment is the Parks Department, who, among other things, maintains a number of public barbecuing areas in parks around the city (a list can be found here.) This is nothing like the thousand-dollar-plus grills we saw for sale the other day that made Tambo, new to this country you'll remember, ask the very wise question: 'is that really necessary?' No, this is just excactly what you need to grill: coals and a big steel municipal barbecue. Nada más.

Anyway, we brought along our ribs, which aren't really ribs (they're closer to pork chops) but were perfect for our purposes. The latest, barbecue-centered issue of Saveur magazine, which dropped through the mail slot recently and was behind the trip to Western Beef, has a great recipe for making St Louis country-style ribs at home in the oven. Since we grilled ours we omitted the bacon--they let off their own intense bacon and char smell. Pack a pan and let them simmer right on the grill.


The fabulous smell might have been what alerted this fellow to our presence.


I think you can just catch him delivering an expletive in the photo.

This brings this week's city wildlife count to three: two opossums outside of the house (different sightings), this little bandit, and the most exciting of all...we saw a whale at Rockaway last week. Proof that you do not have to go far or spend much to have a good time around here.