Enjoy the Delicious

Shame on me, but I never realized how many great friends I had until I sat down here at my computer to write them all a love letter.  Don't get me wrong, I love my friends and appreciate them more than you know but along with the besties there are the friends that support you along the way.  There are the girls who see that you're in need of a shoulder and offer up a coffee date, there are the moms that know you are in a bind with childcare and have no one to help you so they offer a playdate.  There are the friends that plainly see that you're being done wrong and offer to do anything they can to help you.

Never in my life did I think that I would be as lucky as I am with my friends.

Every girl out there knows what I'm talking about.  Your girls, your crew.  The girls that come through for you when life deals you a cruel hand.

The girls that are there with you when life is good for you.  The girls that are there for you when people knock you down.  The girls that are there for you when you start your life all over again.

I'm in love with my girls.

These are the girls I cook with, these are the girls I eat with, I enjoy wine with, these are the girls I laugh with, these are the girls I celebrate with, these are the girls I live with, these are the girls I road trip with, these are the girls that every other woman out there would be lucky enough to spend time with.

So I'm giving a huge shout out to Penny, Kim, Ali, Kim, My beloved cousin, Nadine, Jenny, Marcela, Michel, Zoe, Merin, Pam, Ros, Yetta, Kristina, Renee, Alice, Kelly, Anne, Lisa, Annette, Elizabeth, Deirdre, Kate, Ricardia, Katherine, Catherine, Sheila, Oksana, Cathleen, Heather, Sue, Lauren and Kristin.

I'm not prejudiced to the boys and I'm lucky enough to have some pretty cool guys around too: Jake, Ted, Mike, Murphy and Mario.  You prove to me that there are still good guys out there!

So on this Thanksgiving, 2009, I'm most thankful for the wonderful and caring people in my life.  The people that have shown me the meaning of true friendship but most of all, true love.  Every single person I've named has given me a part of themselves and shown me that, even though we may doubt it sometimes, there are people out there that will come through for you, that will take time to listen, that will not only help you when you're down but make sure to lift you back up again.  They have shown me that there are people out there that believe in you and through thick and thin they will pull through for you and love you and I'm proud to say that they are my friends.

If you told me when I was 13 that I would end up spending Sunday afternoons doing things like roasting and devouring veggies such as brussels sprouts I would have called you crazy and gone back to flipping through my Teen Beat.

Growing up, I hated vegetables.  In fact, I hated most food.  I was painfully picky and any foods that I did eat would have to be slathered in sauce or gravy.  The melodrama of feeding me exasperated my mother and she usually gave in to pasta dishes and baked potatoes slathered in butter and sour cream and topped with SpaghettiOs...don't ask!

Along the way, my tastebuds yearned for more and I began this culinary experiment we call cooking.  Things that used to make me feel ill now give me the utmost gastronomical pleasure.  Sprouts, sweet potatoes, roasted red onions, cauliflower...I just cannot get enough.  I think what pulled me over to the dark side is actually the preparation of these veggies.

When I was young, veggies were tossed into a boiling pot of water and cooked within an inch of their life.  When I prepare them, I do nothing but roasting.  There is a huge taste difference between roasting and boiling your veggies.  For one, when you roast you can coat your veg with anything you like and the flavors infuse while the high oven temp caramelize and sweeten them.  Even when I make mashed sweet potatoes, I roast them before smashing.

Tonight I made brussels sprouts and I'm in heaven at the taste.  It's so unbelievably easy you won't believe that you haven't tried this before although, I still can't guarantee that your kids will eat them; not for another 10 years at least!

Roasted Brussels Sprouts:

Ingredients:

• 1 package sprouts
• 3 cloves garlic
• 1T chopped red onion
• Coarse salt and freshly cracked pepper
• A shake of nutmeg
• Olive oil
• Aged balsamic vinegar

Preparation:

Start by trimming your sprouts.  If you cut off the ends, the stale leaves will almost automatically fall off by themselves.  Halve them and place in a large bowl.  Finely chop the onion and garlic and add that, along with the remaining ingredients and mix together.  Even though I have no exact measurements - you'll know how much you need - I will say that when you add your salt, go ahead and add a little extra, and then another shake on top of that.

Place in a roasting pan and cook in a 375F oven for about 30-40 minutes.  As soon as you start smelling a teensy bit of char and the leaves are dark, the sprouts are done.  Place in a serving bowl and add just a splash more balsamic for tartness.

Now you can go ahead and devour.

I'm addicted to Top Chef.  I remember watching the first episode of the first season and loving every minute of the Irish guys meltdown and subsequent elimination.  I DVR and watch episodes over and over to garner insight on techniques, kitchen equipment and presentation.  My girlfriends and I will sit and watch marathons, drooling over the food and planning dinner parties.

We fawn over how beautiful Padma is and how she should lay off the botox, we crack up over The Don, Tom Colliccio's facial expressions when he's exasperated by a chef, we scrunch our noses over the utter paleness of Toby Young.  We marvel at how Gail and her immense bosom can be seduced by the simple crunch of a salad and sometimes we'll coo over a guest judge if he's hot enough (Tyler Florence).

Over many season there have been many chefs that I've loved, but no one, not one chef has ever hit me like a tom the way Michael Voltaggio has.  I am a sucker for a snarky man and an even bigger sucker for a snarky man that has an unbelievable talent.  Mike V. has been likened to Picasso on two occasions and his culinary talent is so celebrated that a magazine compared his trying out for Top Chef to "Kobe Bryant trying out for a high school basketball team."

So far this season he's made only one misstep that I can remember and that was the halibut that he overcooked.  I'm sure that I would have loved it though or at least I would have pretended to and if there was another faux pas in his cooking, I refuse to remember it.

When I think of Michael Voltaggio, I see Converse All-Stars and kick ass tattoos, a skate boy with a baseball cap...I'm 20 all over again.  I love the dichotomy between his appearance and what he sets down on the table, well thought out and intelligent food that I'm sure tastes as good as it looks.

So let's get down to brass tacks.  Michael Voltaggio is hot.  Not traditionally though, he's kind of quirky looking but he's got that swagger and cocky attitude.  He's like Mick Jagger in the kitchen.  I love the intensity when he cooks and no one has ever looked sexier breaking down a rabbit!  I love when he gets all quick tempered and exacting about how he wants his food presented.  I love that he was thoughtful and respectful when cooking for the troops.  I love that he's a total bitch about taking his time when his brother tells him to hurry up.  I love that he just knows what he's doing is amazing.  Most of all, I love that he looks like he would do terrible and utterly enjoyable things to you after a few shots of tequila.

Michael Voltaggio, I do believe I love you.

Today, it was good to be a New Yorker.  It was a day of pure beauty and radiance.  Early November and round about 60F.  Everyone was out in full force and not a coat in sight; I almost wore flip flops!  It was a lazy Sunday morning, the regular dog walking and Saturday night recovery but today I was intent on just being outside to enjoy this glorious day!

What to do?  Brunch, of course, with my favorite dining companion, Jake.  After an exciting Grace Coddington sighting outside of his apartment building, we wandered a bit aimlessely and bleary eyed not being able to make any decisions on where to go.  "Do you feel like walking over to Tea & Sympathy?", he asked. "Yes!!!"

Tea & Sympathy is THE authentic English restaurant in New York City.  No self respecting Brit comes to New York without making a pilgrimage to this West Village institution.  All their staff are British and their ex-pat head chef, Lindsay, is a huge presence in the dining room; she gladly takes drink orders calling you "my darling" as she sets down a fizzy Ribena.  I grew up in London and have lived in NYC for 16 years but I've never been to Tea & Sympathy.  The visit was overdue and I was ready to indulge.  After arriving at their steps, we had a relatively short 20 minute wait.

Waiting along with us was this gorgeous gentleman standing outside.  I was struck by his regal quality and imagined him as a young man, a soldier who found true love here in the States and stayed to be with his sweetheart.  I could feel a kindness coming from him that was revealed when he bent down to pet a puppy that was walking by.

When we were called in, we sat and looked at the menu for all of 30 seconds before deciding on our dishes:  Sharing a bowl of Stilton potato leek soup, Sheperd's pie for me and bangers and mash for him.  We both had a fizzy Ribena.

The portions are so huge that we were almost full with the soup and bread they brought to the table!

They set our entrees down and we were overwhelmed.  Huge plates of England's finest were presented and we were in carb heaven.  I have to admit that even though I loved my dish, I was openly envious of Jake's meal.  His sausages were partnered with mashed potatoes and beans and smothered in onion gravy.  I remembered my Aunt Laraine making me bangers and mash when I would visit my cousins.  There was nothing like it.  The best was when she put a side of fried toast on the side.

I loved mine though.  My favorite meal is Sheperd's pie.  My grandmother would make it for me as a special meal on my birthday and my mother would pull it together on the weekends and I would scarf down a plate and go for seconds and sometimes thirds.

My lamb pie was divine as is but I poured a little onion gravy on it for good measure.  It was served with a side of baby peas and carrots.  I don't like carrots so as I did as a child, I pushed them to the side of my plate and tucked in to the succulent peas.  It was all utterly delicious and at the end of the meal we were just about to fall over and nap right there.  We were in a huge food coma and I felt like I gained 10lbs, but it was so worth it.

FOOD COMA ALERT!

I'll be ready to go back in about a month and I'll probably try out one of their lighter dishes and end with scones and clotted cream.  When I do, I'll probably wear looser jeans!