Dinner last night was cheesy, saucy, salty eggplant parm, which I’ve attempted to make several times before (and always failed in one way or another). Last night’s was excellent, and reminded me how much I like eggplant (some fantastic baigan bharta at Tiffin Wallah Friday night helped too). It’s easy and done in under an hour and doesn’t even require a side of linguine or garlic bread (although I’m sure there wouldn’t be complaints).

Eggplant parmesan:

• One large eggplant (you’ll only use half, if that)
• About 3/4 cup shredded parmesan
• About 3 oz fresh mozzarella
• 1 cup breadcrumbs
• 3 eggs
• 6 tbsp olive oil
• 1 jar sauce, or homemade (this was Trader Joe’s marinara)
• lots of salt, pepper, oregano, thyme, and garlic powder

1. Begin by slicing the eggplant into pieces about 1/2 inch thick. Salt them on both sides and let them sit in a colander for 15-30 minutes to let out some of the moisture. Rinse them and pat them dry.
2. Beat the eggs in a bowl. In another bowl, mix together breadcrumbs and seasoning. Dip each eggplant slice in the breadcrumbs, then the eggs, then the breadcrumbs again. Fry in about 2 tbsp of olive oil, 2-3 minutes on each side or until browned. Add more olive oil to the pan after each batch.
3. Coat the bottom of a 9x9 square baking dish with sauce. Add a layer of fried eggplant. Top with some shredded parmesan and more sauce. Then add another layer of fried eggplant, more parmesan, more sauce, and on top, the mozzarella in pieces.
4. Bake, covered, for about 20-25 minutes. Uncover and bake for an additional 10 minutes or until the mozzarella is browned and the sauce is bubbly.

Saturday night at Sushi of Gari, literally right downstairs from our apartment.

Near plate: sashimi platter. Highlight was the garlic-miso seared swordfish (I think) on the far left. The quality of the fish was pretty unmatched, and I liked that the waitress walked me through everything on my plate (although, clearly, it didn’t stick with me once I was busy eating it all.)

Far plate: Gari platter. Highlight was some amazing pickled pine nut tuna business, and the spicy tuna roll, but all of it was amazing. The rice-to-fish ratio was perfect, and each of the ingredients in every unique piece felt like they added something, rather than just being overstylized.

Not pictured: Maguro avocado appetizer (blue fin tuna and wasabi sauce on half an avocado); lots of sake.

Dessert: Grom gelato. The girl at the counter was a total sweetheart and cautioned me against my inclination to get their flavor of the month (cinnamon with white chocolate). She was right - it tasted like a Yankee candle. She was also generous with the samples. I tried the crema de grom (organic egg cream with corn biscuits and Columbian “Teyuna” chocolate chips) and nearly committed to a whole scoop of its fantastic flavor and appealing graininess, but ultimately went with my classic pairing of nocciola and tiramisu. Some people are purists and had the vanilla bean and chocolate (see above). I hate to admit it, but the chocolate - more bitter than sweet - was the best of the bunch.

Our new kitchen on the upper west side is not perfect. It has perks: the dishwasher, the fantastic stainless steel appliances and black marble counters. It also has cons, the most significant of which is the fact that pretty much whenever you pan-fry anything with the remotest amount of gusto, the smoke alarm in the living room adjacent goes off. And off. And off. No amount of standing on chairs, fanning with cardboard, pressing the button, or removing the batteries can shut this thing up. I have a headache just thinking about it (or maybe that’s the meat sweats). So last night, when we made a boneless prime dry-aged ribeye for dinner, our time was pretty equally split between tending to the steak and tending to the screeching smoke detector. It was still good, and worth the effort, but when we went to cook the other of the two pieces of meat I’d bought today for lunch, I took the time to rig a complex fan system to prevent the same chaos from happening again. 

It worked! And in the time saved in dealing with the smoke alarm, I made an absolutely fantastic side dish of red peppers, onions and carrots in red wine sauce. Whenever I make a vegetable side with steak, I have a terrible habit of ignoring it altogether. Other than sauteed portobellos (which my boyfriend doesn’t like), this was the first non-potato side to truly enhance my steak experience. We ate it with fresh-baked seven-grain bread and pinot noir. Hello, adult lunch.

Peppers & onions in red wine sauce:

• 1 raw red bell pepper, sliced
• 1 jar roasted red bell peppers, sliced
• 1 medium yellow sweet onion, sliced
• 1/2 cup baby carrots
• 2 cups red wine (this was 2007 Cherry Hill Winery Pinot Noir Papillon from Lot18, which I bought solely because of the puppy on the label)
• 3/4 cup marinara sauce (this was Trader Joe’s)
• 2 tbsp herbs de provence
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• plenty of sea salt to taste

1. Saute sliced vegetables in the bottom of a stockpot with olive oil and herbs.
2. When onions are golden and translucent, add red wine, marinara and sauce.
3. Cook uncovered at least 10 minutes, then covered an additional 5-10 minutes.

I’ll just come out and say it: I’ve been intensely neglecting ingestibles as of late. Between preparing to move, moving, working and spending weekends exploring the new neighborhood, I haven’t made the time to diligently record either my foodventures or several culinary experiments in the new apartment’s kitchen, which is tiny (basically existing in the front hallway) but decked out with black marble countertop (not plural) and gorgeous stainless-steel appliances (including a dishwasher!) Once supplemented with a sturdy Ikea kitchen block/island, I found I’d landed that elusive New York luxury: a pretty halfway decent kitchen. Not to mention, I’m blocks away from a Trader Joe’s, Fairway, and (drumroll) ZABAR’S. Oh, and there’s a farmers’ market across the street on Sundays, and a basil plant on my counter. Refrigerator/pantry staples on any given day now include a quarter pound of lox, a loaf of just-baked seeded rye, gorgeous extra-sharp cheddar, local handmade pretzels, Italian olives, fresh pesto…well, the list goes on.

This morning’s breakfast was an excellent use of the new smorgasbord of groceries.

Red pepper & corn frittata:

• 1 red bell pepper (organic, from Trader Joe’s)
• 2-3 ears corn, in husks (from the farmers’ market)
• 5 eggs (from the farmers’ market)
• approx. 3 oz sharp yellow cheddar (from Zabar’s)
• 1/2 cup good salsa, or equivalent of chopped tomatoes & onions (from Fairway)

1. Husk the corn and slice the kernels from the cobs. 
2. Dice red pepper. 
3. Combine corn kernels, diced pepper and salsa in a large frying pan and cook on medium, stirring occasionally, for a few minutes. Use spatula to create one flat layer.
4. Meanwhile, beat five eggs in a bowl. Add crumbled cheddar and mix.
5. Pour eggs and cheese over vegetables.
6. Cook on low heat for 5-10 minutes, until eggs are set.

(the boyfriend ate his with Tostitos. Typical.)

I don’t like trendy restaurants. I’m not saying that in the way people do when they’re too trendy for trendy restaurants. I’m saying that in the way of people who love food and love restauranteurs and love discovering new and delicious things, and hate disappointment. I believe strongly that on a good menu, you shouldn’t be able to “order wrong.” I believe that less is more, except sometimes when more is more, and that there is no such thing as too much garlic. I believe that the quality of the ingredients matters as much as the aptitude of the chef.

Last Saturday I had the opportunity to try Scarpetta, Scott Conant’s high-end Italian restaurant on West 14th. The housemade pasta has received a lot of hype, largely well-deserved: my cavatelli had all the lightness of really fantastic gnocchi, with an accurately al dente chewiness. The caponata was lovely, served with some addictive if heavy-handed salumi e formaggi bread.

Caponata

Primi piatti: My boyfriend slurped down an entire serving of the creamy polenta, which I described as something like macaroni and cheese without the macaroni - would you like some cornmeal with your unearthly amounts of parmesan and heavy cream? The olive oil braised octopus was both more subtle and more delicious, largely benefiting, as many of Scarpetta’s dishes do, from the sheer quality of the ingredients chosen.

Spaghetti with tomato and basil.

Cavatelli with rabbit ragu, porcini and arugula.

Paste: The tomato and basil sauce in the spaghetti pomodoro was plainly not as incredible as I wanted it to be. A little too sweet, not enough garlic. New York calls it “famously restrained,” which I guess is sort of the opposite of what I’m looking for in Italian food. I had no complaints at all, however, about my rabbit ragu: fork-tender, flavorful, the braised meat was an ideal foil to the firm cavatelli. I would have happily eaten three times the quantity of porcini, but luckily a side of broccoli rabe with extra garlic filled the gap.

Veal loin with gremolata crust, salsify, favas and semolina dumplings.

I had only a bite of the veal, and it’s possible that it just isn’t up my alley, but I found it vaguely bland. In summary, come for the pasta and some elegantly prepared, top-quality produce, but you’ll have to be sure to order right.