Bonus: The Cheese That Might Kick My A**

Milk, cheese, ice cream, yogurt, sure let’s throw butter in there for good measure, it’s true: I’m a dairy girl at heart.

And to qualify my cheese consumption, if I am a dairy girl, then I am a cheese fiend. I estimate I get at least a third or more of my calcium strictly from the sort of cheese that is sold by the pound ($8 -$28 per lb) and has an inordinately high saturated-fat-to-ounce-ratio. Doesn’t stop me (sorry, Mom). 

Back to the cheese at hand (anyone get the Snoop Dogg reference?), which is staring me down just outside the periphery of my field of vision of glasses, which means I can’t really see it too well at all. 

I’ve run into so few cheeses over the years that are personally complicated that if I even sample it before purchase, it’s really just to have a sneak-preview taste. (See the March 30 post on Murray’s, selecting the “strongest cheese in the case”.)

I am a sucker for cheese with an ashen layer in the middle, so today I picked up a quarter pound of a raw milk Morbier, the selling point being the little placard that reads: “Vegetable Ash separates the morning and afternoon milkings.” Quaint, right? No. Pungent and spicy and is only manageable in small doses  — to be able to enjoy it, I had to cut that small piece (top) into 4 or 5 bits.

So the question is not does this cheese knock my socks off? Yes, and I mostly don’t mind. More surprised. But what the hell am I going to actually do with a quarter-pound of it? 

COST: $3.50 of wonderment
PREP TIME: My cheese-consumption lifetime

Bonus: Location of Twitter Wine Photo Revealed

Vaguely gratitious Twitter cross-promotion: 

I tweeted earlier that “A big day deserves a big glass of wine in this glorious afternoon sun!” along with this photo of a gorgeous tempranillo with the sunlight streaming through it. 

Here’s the answer key: Had southern-facing, afternoon sun exposure in the bottom of the East Village/top of LES. Really respectable beers and good wine for $4 and $5 a glass during happy hour. 

Answer: Simon Sips. Never been here before today, but I’ll be back. 

Simon Sips also requited the need I had for “real food” earlier today: I had a chorizo, dry Italian cheese (forget exact name, ending in -rigornio), roasted green peppers and spinach sandwich.

The wine, the food, the sunshine, my New York magazine: It all did me good. Although, I think honestly, the sitting in the sun part was the best. I’ve missed that. 

COST: $17
PREP TIME: As long as I could stay basking … I tried.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Welcome to the peep show, or should I say, the S’meep Show. I am going to let the pictures speak for themselves: 

1.) The goods. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   To make s’meeps — a s’more made with Peeps — we required graham cracker squares, Hershey’s chocolate bars and an assortment of brightly-colored Peeps with which to experiment. Which shapes melt the best? Do the different colors taste differently? Can a s’meep be too far gone (i.e. burnt marshmallow syndrome). These were all very important variables driving our research. 

2.) The first trial.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kitchen area begins to smell like that top of creme brule — heat-fired carmelized sugar-topping deliciousness. We realize that the pink chick peeps expanded in the toaster oven after just 3-5 minutes. The chocolate is gooey and melty, t00.

3.) The control: Bunny Peeps. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Which obviously were as successful as the classic yellow, or any of the colors, for that matter, of any of the bird peeps. … 

4.) The “Can You Resist This” factor: 

 If this doesn’t look absolutely scrumptious, then I blame the poor quality of my iPhone camera, because in actuality, I can’t think of one person who wouldn’t try (and love) this amazing love child of two classic, kitschy, brilliant bits of American food culture. 

COST: $n/a
PREP TIME: bedtime for this girl.

– The inspiration for this adventure came from this Serious Eats post: How to Make S’Meeps: S’mores plus Peeps. 

Bonus: Pickle Prep

New York is a funny city in the sense that you can get food, booze and just about anything else any time of day  (and probably even delivered). But something as simple as mason jars …. not so easy. 

I was supposed to make these pickles last weekend. Instead, I spend several hours last Sunday morning sourcing mason jars. None of the cookshops that were open on the Bowery had them. One gentleman pointed me in the direction of 209 Bowery, which sells every shape and size of glassware, but is only open during the highly-inconvenient hours of 7:30-4:30, Monday-Friday, or thereabouts. 

Ultimately I found mason jars ($2.50 for 32 oz., $3.50 for 64 oz.) at the confusingly-named Bowery Kitchen Supply in Chelsea Market (not so confusingly named). 

I also found about 100 things I never knew I needed until right that minute … such as these oversized mugs fused with real stone handles (one of which looks like a potato!), which I was all about until I saw the $80 price tag and gently, gingerly, returned to shelf.

One last note on the subject of mason jars then it’s onward with the pickles: In my Internet searches on the subject (Google: mason jars, New York), I discovered this ode of sorts to mason jars on  Serious Eats humorously titled “In Gear: Hacking Mason Jars.” It’s cute.

COST: 4 x $2.50 = $10
PREP TIME: Nearly a week in the making

Bonus: $0.99 Draft Special

Recession special, the sign says it all.

And no, I don’t know which draft it is, and I can’t vouch for the caliber of patrons drinking at 2pm, I didn’t dare step inside … [ADDENDUM: Not in fear of what was inside, but in fear of not making it back out.]

508 Ninth Avenue, between W. 38th and W. 39th, New York, NY