Lover Come Back To Me (Venus Retrograde Rose Cake)

Dear Mouse,

Oh how we have been neglecting this blog. You have a very good reason -- being the newest toast of NYC's downtown theatre scene for your beautiful play  - closes June 30!! -  does take a leetle precedence - even for us! - over kitchen and restaurant capers.












I too have a reason too for my long silence. I am currently Walking Through the Valley of the Shadow Between Acting Jobs - or maybe the 100-Degree Humidity Of Unemployment? I dunno -- which would seem to suggest that I have plenty of blogging time. And maybe I do ... but the thing is,  I haven't jumped in to post something sooner because:

                                        I was waiting for ingredients to come in the mail. 

                    These ingredients. 

                      L to R: Almond Flour, Rose Extract, Rose Syrup, all courtesy of Amazon.com

Yep.

So I know that my last few posts have had an astrological bent, but that's just because A) come on! there has been  SO MUCH going on in the skies of late!! it can't be ignored! and B) I'm always looking for new and indirect ways to talk about life.

So let's just say that in the last month or so, the SuperMoon came and went, as did the summer solstice. The partial lunar eclipse partially eclipsed, Venus (the planet of love and relationships) went into retrograde AND did a newsworthy once-in-a-lifetime 48-hour trot across the Sun, my show closed, some other things closed, yada yada yada, and THEN I fell in love ...

... with a cake.

Specifically,  the "Ispahan Loaf Cake" from Dorie Greenspan's "Around My French Table", which Mrs. BFF (formerly 'Mrs. Lawyer', a handle that got bad reviews)  gave me for Xmas this past year.

Again: almond flour, rose syrup, rose extract. Plus, you know, raspberries, and also butter and confectioner's sugar and egg whites lovingly whipped and folded into the batter just before baking...  It was supposed to come out pink ..? but didnt.  Still, possibly THE most romantic cake ever. 
                                                So,  I ... made it for myself!  Whoo hoo!
                      
                    

                          

   I bought new utensils for this cake!! 

Honestly, I don't know who was more whipped, me or the egg whites. 

I fell hard - HARD - for this cake, before I had ever so much as tasted it!  Just reading the recipe --well, you know I'm a sucker for a well-turrned ingredient list, and this one had me at "rose extract".  Boo, I argued with myself, calm down. You're in a vulnerable place. You don't even know if you LIKE rose flavor, and the syrup Dorie recommends is only available in a, well, giant bottle. A giant expensive bottle. Well, Dorie says it's expensive but it keeps a long time and you'll want to make the cake "many times thereafter", so that's ok, right? Oh, Boo, you sucker! Almond flour? You don't like any dessert in the almond family! You JUST had a conversation YESTERDAY about how almond croissants are a waste of croissants. Also, who is going to eat this cake? You don't know anyone who likes this kind of thing. Also, it's going to be, like, 100 degrees out the day you decide to bake! You don't know that part yet, but it's what's going to happen!  

I felt like one of those old cartoons with the angel and the devil on opposite shoulders, arguing. The thing is, they were both Dorie Greenspan, so ... she won.

What do two tablespoons of whole milk look like when mixed with 2 tablespoons of Rose Syrup?

 SO PRETTY, that's what. 

I was smitten, I tell you. Smitten.   I didn't even know what "Ispahan" meant - I had to have it.  Of course,  I know now, because Dorie explains it: it's the name of a kind of "profoundly fragrant rose" and also "the once-capital of Persia". (Yes, Mouse, from memory.) It also seems to have become the name for a potent flavor combination  - rose, raspberry, and lychee - unleashed upon France by pastry chef Pierre Herme some time ago, and now so popular that it's available in almost every dessert form including supermarket yogurt.  Here in the States, however, it's remained pretty much unknown ... until now.  (You're welcome.)

                                                                     No lychees in this one, but it still counts.

The moral of the story is that there are times in life when you just have to do something that seems crazy, when you just have to follow your heart, even when a whole planet seems to be turned against you. I baked my Ispahan confection in near-100 heat, the air conditioner losing to the oven, with kind of not enough time before having to leave for Penn Station. I was determined.  I whipped and folded and measured and placed raspberries in fussy triple rows, pouring batter over them. I waited patiently for 65 minutes, looking at my large bottle of Monin Rose Syrup and thinking what have I done, maybe. And when I tasted it ...I had to sit down. I think I actually said, "Wow".  And then I ate two pieces.

Simple yet maddeningly complex in flavor. Innocent and fresh and not-too sweet, yet intoxicatingly perfumed and studded with just-cooked raspberries. Dense and almondy but not heavy or particularly rich.  You could dress it up with whipped cream, or a raspberry coulis, garnish it with rose petals or raspberries. Or you could have it plain and warm with a no-nonsense mug of strong coffee or tea. It is, like a great love affair, provocative, complex, mysterious yet profoundly innocent at the same time.  And certainly worth waiting (3-5 days standard shipping) for.

I hung a chunk of the cake on your doorknob, and tucked the rest snugly in my weekend bag for the the BFF Family in NJ.  I wasn't sure if the kids would go for it. When the 5-year old tasted it, he shouted "I LOVE IT!" and immediately crawled under the table and proceeded to remove his pants. If that's not a rave review, I don't know what is.

And Venus Retrograde ends on Wednesday. 

Love and Roses, 

The Boo

Rose-Raspberry Cake 

(From Dorie Greenspan's "Ispahan Loaf Cake" recipe in 'Around my French Table')

Note:  This cake calls for Rose Syrup, NOT Rose Water!!! I believe this is the difference between an enchanted, subtly floral confection and a cake that tastes like Chanel No. 5.  Also, i THINK Almond Flour is NOT the same as Almond Meal? I'm not 100% on that. (PS. Later note: Oh it probably doesn't matter. 9/5/12)

Ingredients

2.5 tbsp Rose Syrup  

2 tbsp whole milk

2 C almond flour

1 C confectioner's sugar

3 large eggs, separated, plus 1 large egg at room temp

2.5 tbsp sugar

1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter

1/4 tsp rose extract

1/2 C plus 1 tbsp all-purpose flour

1 pint raspberries (but I didn't use that many)

Center a rack in oven, preheat to 350. Butter a 9x5 loaf pan and dust with flour. 

Stir rose syrup into milk. 

Put almond flour and confectioner's sugar in a sieve set over a bowl and stir to pass them through. Or, if you're me, just put them in a bowl. Whisk together. 

Beat egg whites in another bowl until they start to hold their shape, then gradually add the sugar, beating until the whites hold "firm, glossy peaks". Slide the egg whites into another bowl (and don't worry about cleaning the mixing bowl before carrying on).

Put almond-flour mixture and butter into mixer bowl and beat for 3 minutes or until very smooth.

Working at med speed, add egg yolks one at a time, beating for a minute after each. Then beat in whole egg. 

Add rose-flavored milk and rose extract and beat one more minute.

Give the egg whites a quick whisk and stir 1/4 - 1/3 of them into the batter. With a spatula, and a "light touch", alternately fold in remaining whites and all-purpose flour into batter, "as quickly and gently as you can, folding in flour in 3 additions and whites in 2". 

Scrape 1/3 of batter into prepared loaf pan, spread to even it.

Make 3 rows of raspberries down the length of the pan - dont let berries touch the sides - and then cover with half the remaining batter.

Make 3 more rows of berries, top with last of batter.

Lower oven to 300 and bake for 55-65 min or until a knife comes out clean. 

Transfer to cooling rack, let rest 3 min. Unmold, invert, let cool to room temp.  

Super Moon Risotto (Cakes)

Dear Mouse,

"Ever since the Professor and his wife have come, our daily life seems to have jumped the track. I sleep at the wrong time, drink wine, and eat different Kabuli. Fancy. Bad for the system."

- Vanya, Target Margin's 'Uncle Vanya'

Last week, I basically didn't really sleep much. Even so,  I managed to have a series of vivid and bothersome dreams. I'm not saying that they were necessarily due to my nightly meltdown in this seemingly harmless "Chekhov Slumber Party", running for one more week. I'm also not saying the fault lies with eating leftover 'Drunk Man Noodles' from Spice for breakfast at 5AM. Anything's possible.

On the third mostly sleepless night,  I dreamed that I went out of my house (house?) to take my car (car?) to work (work? j/k) and was dismayed to see that the tires were basically flaccid. 'How', I (dream) thought to my (dream) self, 'could I have let this happen? How have I been just driving around on these tires and running them ragged instead of taking proper care of them? Is there a gas station near here? How will I get there? Will anyone help me put air in these things? And (for real, I thought this in my dream), how do I get out of here without anyone finding out I did this and laughing at me?' And then I woke up. (Oh, and I was also parked on somebody's lawn. Because that's how I (dream) roll.)

As you've often gleefully pointed out, Mouse, my dream life is almost ludicrously easy to read, its metaphors so obvious they can hardly even be called metaphor (what's the opposite of metaphor? Obva-phor?) So there's something reassuring about knowing that this dream means nothing more complicated than  maybe I just need a break. To, you know, pump air into my obvaphorical tires. 

                                                                  I'm getting to the food.

I venture to say though that my recent insomnia and various other mood swings and mild hallucinations aren't ALL due to nights of mashed-up Chekhov and days of musical Gertrude Stein (rehearsing this). There's a LOT goin' on in the air around us right now. There's the pollen count, which I'm gonna say has accounted for, oh, 87% of my recent conversations. There's this crazy weather (remember when it used to be kind of  nice out  in MAY?) And then of course there was the Super Moon that, well, happened last week and I'm just getting around to posting this now.

                                                            I'm GETTING to the food!

It was cloudy, so we in NYC didn't see it, but we (at least I) sure felt it. The Super Moon, so named for being the biggest/closest full moon of the year, zoomed into our lives on May 5 in the sign of Scorpio, the astrological sign associated with death, sex, regeneration, and scorpions. Yow. As this is a blog devoted to food (I'm GETTING to it!!) and not New-Age Hoo-Ha, I'll stop there, but my point is, yow. There's a lot out there to throw a girl off balance at the moment, especially a Sensitive Cancer with flat tires. 

Enter Risotto. This risotto, to be specific:

                       Shape and color of risotto pictured here to be explained in next paragraph.

I can't think of anything better to make for dinner during such a Lunatic Week. Creamy, soothing, filling, complex in flavor but not (as you might suspect) in assembly, it is the ultimate comfort food AND comes with the fringe benefit of stress release as you stir and stir, adding broth one cup at a time and marveling at how not even a cup of rice magically expands to feed you, your guest, and either another person or you, again, late-night, post-show, frying leftovers into risotto CAKES and silently thanking your genius sister for the suggestion. 

Love,

The Boo

Super Moon Risotto (Cakes) for Basically Two or Three People

(based on Ina Garten's recipe)

Ingredients

3/4 C Arborio Rice

1tbsp olive oil

1tbsp butter

1/2 C chopped fennel

1 med onion chopped

1/3 C dry white wine (and you'll probably splash some more in during the stirring, why not)

4 C (about) hot chicken broth (maybe have some extra there in case)

1/2 lb asparagus

zest of two lemons

1tbsp fresh lemon juice

1/4 C mascarpone

1/4 C parmesan (or more if you like -- and definitely more for serving)

1 tbsp minced fresh chives

 I would do this part first: cut asparagus into 1-in lengths, discarding woody stems, and blanch in boiling water for a few minutes. Set aside. 

Olive oil and butter into your dutch oven or similar pot over med heat. When hot/melted, add onion and fennel and saute  for 5-7 minutes, til tender. Add rice and stir to coat w/oil and butter. Add the wine and simmer over low heat, stirring constantly until absorbed. Start adding hot chicken broth, a ladle at a time, stirring constantly until absorbed before adding the next. Do this til all broth is gone.  This will take about 25-30 min. When you're 15 minutes in, add the asparagus, lemon zest, salt and pepper. Continue cooking and adding stock and stirring, til the rice is tender but firm. 

Whisk lemon juice and mascarpone together. When risotto is done, turn off the heat and stir in mascarpone mixture plus parmesan and chives. Let it settle a minute then serve with addtional parm and chives for sprinkling. 

                                                      THE NEXT DAY:

Put 1 tbsp of olive oil into a pan over med/low heat.  Maybe using a 1/4 C scoop or similar, scoop a ball of leftover risotto into pan and gently flatten to make more of a cake shape. Fry over medium heat for about ten min (be patient and also watch so you don't burn). When it's brown on the bottom and able to hold its shape reasonably, carefully flip over and do the other side. Eat. Yum.

Matzoh Candy

Dear Mouse,

Helena: (after a pause) "God how beautiful the weather is!"

Vanya: "God how I wish I were dead!"

-Uncle Vanya (Target Margin, after Anton Chekhov)

Cough. Sneeze. Hand sanitizer. Sigh. Sneeze. Cough. Repeat.

Happy Spring!

                                       whimsical/seasonal timer provided by The Mother

"Why don't you just go to Zabar's?" he asked.

The speaker was my cast mate X, looking at me quizzically as a group of us left the windowless, freezing, cement-walled dare i say Siberia-esque fourth-floor walkup space in which we are rehearsing, what else, Chekhov for (god help me) only two remaining weeks. And I will forgive him for asking said question on the grounds that A) I was talking groggily about getting home in time to make matzoh candy for Passover while blowing my nose repeatedly and must have looked pathetic B) he doesn't know me. Or our family. I need not explain here, I think, why even my paltry kitchen contribution to the High Holiday Feast still had to have been homemade. To bring a store bought dessert item to our Aunt's table ... it's not up for discussion, so we won't discuss.

Fun fact: at least according to this recipe, the slabs of matzoh are actually referred to as "boards", which basically confirms for us all that they are, indeed, made of cardboard. But what delicious cardboard! 

Caramel. That's how I roll.

I am happy to report, however, that this delectable, rich, sugary unleavened treat is sooooooo easy anyone can make it, with almost any sliver of spare time, even doped up on Mucinex or in a DayQuil Road Rage Haze (or both). Four ingredients. 20-30 minutes all told, really. Crunchy, buttery, caramelly, chocolatey... people go crazy for it. And if you feel guilty for having one of the best desserts despite putting in almost no work -- well, hey, that's just in the spirit of the holiday... right? somehow??

Happy Passover! And since I'm about to take the second batch down to you and The Husband for Easter Dinner, Happy Easter too!! Finally, a year-round use for matzoh.

Matzoh Brittle


4-6 unsalted matzoh boards
1 C butter (2 sticks)
3/4 C chocolate chips
1 C brown sugar


Preheat oven to 375. Line baking tray/sheet with tinfoil, then with parchment paper (very important! The first time I made this I used wax paper and spent a very long time trying to peel melted wax off otherwise decent candy ... unsuccessfully.) Place matzoh boards on parchment, breaking up pieces as needed to fill in all spaces as much as possible.  Put butter and sugar in a pot on the stove over high heat. Bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Cook 3 minutes more, stirring constantly, then take off heat and pour over matzoh. (Be careful!!! Caramel burns are NO JOKE). Place in oven and immediately reduce heat to 350. Bake for 15 min. If you feel like it's browning too fast or may burn, lower to 325, but mine was fine. Remove from oven and sprinkle immediately with chocolate chips. Wait 5 minutes, then spread the melted chocolate all over the caramel.  While it's still warm, cut into squares or odd jagged shapes (which I prefer), then put in fridge til it sets (freezer is ok too I found).  

My Nutty Valentine

Dear Mouse,

Happy (Belated) Valentines!

DAY OFF!

& Love is in the air ...(R to L: The Boo & Butley, The Theatre Dog)

Thanks for picking up the slack with two excellent posts while I was orbiting Planet Show. This was definitely the most strenuous, action-packed two weeks in my personal work history. The short version: it took two "10 out of 12" days and one "8 out of 10" to get through every technical cue in this multimedia epic ... once. Preview performances began last Tuesday. We rehearsed all day each day, made changes, and performed at night. Two nights in, the entire second act was rewritten significantly and put onstage within 48 hrs. We finally opened Friday night after a final day of rehearsal, breathed a sigh of relief ... and then performed the show twice on saturday and twice on Sunday. I stopped even pretending to get dressed in the morning, and the costume department has had to take in my first-act Guatemalan Shorts twice (a fringe benefit I suppose.) At the moment it is 630PM and I am already in pajamas, digesting a Short Ends Platter and a Coors Light from Gates BBQ and blogging from bed, where I will likely stay until our 930AM call to do the show for school kids at 10AM! tomorrow.

Let me say at this time that I realize nothing is more annoying than a working artist complaining about how exhausting it is to Live The Dream, so I will stop there and tell the whole truth: that my Valentine's Week was aces, and that I am feeling utterly grateful for the opportunity to work this hard, to learn this much ... and eat this sandwich:

The "Nutty Girl" Sandwich and a large LatteLand Coffee.

(this sandwich tends to sell out at LL. If you miss it there, go to the actual The Nutty Girl, a cafe & juice bar in nearby Westport, where I will be spending my next morning off. )

Nutty Girl at Home. Poor lighting.

So I realize that in the past I may have said the words "Best Sandwich in the World" before, maybe even more than once. But that doesn't mean I can't say and mean them again. After all, is there really only One Right Sandwich out there for each of us? For example, the "Spicy Godfather" at Graham Avenue Meats and Deli in East Williamsburg - that's a hell of a time. I'll never forget it. The first time I ate it, it transported me. It was exciting. It was (duh) spicy. It gave me so much - I had to give half of it to Leon - I thought I could never want more from lunchtime. It also completely destroyed my stomach before a matinee, but I went back for more. It was just that good.

Godfather, we'll always have Brooklyn. But a girl has to move on.

Call me fickle, but there's a new lunch in town. And I've been eating it for breakfast. It's glorious. What sounded like a list of wacky, mismatched ingredients turned out to be a charming little stack of tasty harmony. It is nourishing and sturdy and not-too-sweet. It will get you through tech. It is packed with energy and entirely plant-based. AND it is nutty, sweet, and orange - a little valentine to your 2nd chakra.

The Nutty Girl a la LatteLand KC

(because I'll have to make them myself back in NYC, let's all start now)

2 slices some kinda nutty/multigrain/sprouted bread

a generous slather of cashew butter

shredded carrots

thin slices granny smith apple

thin slices extra sharp cheddar

Love,

The Boo

My Spanish Love

Dear Boo,

We have so much to catch up on. You're out in barbeque land making art and changing the world. I'm here in NYC plugging away at this job where people ask me questions like I actually KNOW something, and I have to go around all day repeating the serenity prayer to remind myself I have no control over other people as much as I might pretend I do. I've been meaning to tell you about some especially thrilling meetings I've got about some writing projects and share my excitement about this little film I did making its premiere at SXSW in March. And I want to hear about your previews, about learning a new scene in the afternoon and performing it at night. And how you've been managing with just a hot plate. Oh, there's so much to talk about!

But instead I feel compelled to put all that aside to tell you about my new love. I know you won't judge my priorities.
It's called a tortilla, although I don't really get why*, since it looks more like a frittata to me and I've always known a tortilla to be a round flat piece of wheat or corn bread product that you stuff delicious things in. But then I don't pretend to be as culturally sensitive or knowledgeable in the kitchen as I am when I'm wearing my social work hat. Mostly I just make things that I know will taste good, and then I eat them. And man, is this one up my alley.

It's eggs, but it's really more about the potatoes and onions and olive oil, which let's face it, is really how I like my eggs--more as a conduit for vegetables, meats, cheeses, or sugar, than the star of the show. Its a breakfast food, a late night tapas snack, a perfectly portable lunch, and pile up a few greens slicked with a nice tart dressing and you've got a perfectly satisfying dinner. And did I mention you can make it ahead of time and serve it at room temperature? Which also makes it the perfect thing to serve for a brunch with friends. And it's cheap! So cheap! Oh, the reasons to make this are endless. The only reason not to, as I can see it, is if you live anywhere near The Commons and can buy a slice of their Tortilla Espa˜ola, which while it pains me to say it, is far superior to my homemade version. But give me time. I've only just begun cycling this through my repetoire and I have big plans for my next shot at it.

Some advice for trying this at home:
- Salt is your friend, but it's eggs' soulmate. Use it liberally, at every stage.
- Maybe it's not authentic, but tossing in whatever other veggies you have lying around couldn't hurt. They'll just benefit from the silky, creamy, unctuous treatment they'll get from slow-cooking with a ton of olive oil and potatoes.
- Be bold. The only hard part of this recipe is making the necessary flip, though some versions I came across say a broiler is perfectly fine to finish it off. But I say go for it. It feels pretty damn good when you get it right.

Break a leg tonight! I can't wait to hear how it goes. When I'm able to pull myself away from my new Spanish obsession, let's talk.

Tortilla Espanola
adapted by the Mouse from various recipes...

1.5 cups oil
2.5 pounds yukon gold potatoes, peeled, quartered and sliced thinly (like 1/3 in thick)
2.5 cups chopped onion
1 tablespoon coarse salt
10 large eggs
lots of salt and pepper

Heat oil in a 12-inch nonstick skillet over moderate heat until hot but not smoking and add potatoes and onion along with a hefty sprinkling of salt. Cook over moderately low heat, stirring frequently and carefully, until vegetables are very tender but not colored, about 30 minutes. Lift veggies out of the oil with a slotted spoon, letting excess oil drip off. Pour off oil left in pan and set aside. Alternately, you can transfer them into a colander over a bowl and drain for a few minutes. Lightly beat eggs in a large bowl and add salt and a few cracks of pepper. Add the potato and onion mixture to the eggs and season again.

Return 1 tablespoon of the reserved oil to skillet and add mixture, pressing potatoes flush with eggs. Cook over low heat, covered, 12 to 15 minutes, or until almost set. Turn off heat and let stand for a few minutes. Shake skillet gently to make sure tortilla is set on bottom and not sticking to skillet. Slide tortilla onto plate. Cover it with skillet and invert tortilla back into skillet. Round edge with a rubber spatula and cook over low heat, 15 minutes more, or until set. Slide tortilla onto a serving plate and let cool for a few minutes before slicing into wedges. Serve warm or at room temperature, or really however you like.


Love,

The Mouse

*Sure, I could do some research, but why bother when I know one of our know-it-all readers will happily jump-to and educate me in the comments? :)

The Party of the Year

SCENE 3:

That evening. AMY, CELIA, and DAVID are sitting down to dinner at the kitchen table. Celia is unpacking bags of chinese food and AMY is drinking a glass of wine.

CELIA
Shit. Where… shit.
AMY
What?
CELIA
They forgot the dumpling sauce.
AMY
You sure?
DAVID
There's soy sauce packets here. If you want.
CELIA
Dad, that's totally different. I want the dumpling sauce to go with the dumplings I ordered. Fuck.
AMY
We can have it without. Soy sauce is fine for me.
DAVID
Me too. Give it here, Amy.
(She passes him the dumplings. He spears one with his fork and pops it in his mouth just as CELIA dives at him)
CELIA
DAD! PUT IT DOWN!
DAVID
Jesus. You almost made me choke.
CELIA
Don't eat them until we get the sauce. Please. I'm asking you.
AMY
Okay, Celia. Calm down.
CELIA
I'm calm. I just want what I ordered.
(She goes to the phone and picks it up to dial.)
CELIA
I ordered it. You heard me. I said dumplings./
AMY
/We got the dumplings-
CELIA
/Hello? Hell-HI. Yes. I just picked up my order. The name is Benson. B-E-N-yes, that's right. Well we ordered dumplings but they came without the sauce. Yes, we’ve got all the packets of soy sauce. But we're missing the DUMPLING SAUCE. What is it?. It's some kind of brown sauce that you dip dumplings in---I don't know, I'm not the chef! It's whatever you always put in with the dumplings. Well if it's your first day ask someone else there. I'm sure they can show you. Please. What I'd like, is for someone to come drop off some dumpling sauce. Can I please-(to AMY) He's got me on hold. Jesus.
AMY
Celia, forget it.
CELIA
No. I can't eat them like this.

- Proof that true to our tagline, the Mouse is incapable of writing anything that doesn't at least reference a snack.


Dear Boo,

So, I wrote this play. And um, it's gonna get produced.

Shoot. Just typing that makes my palms sweat.

But seriously, it's happening. Know how I know this? There's a benefit this Sunday to raise money for my theater company's upcoming season, a season which includes said play. Which means people are going to come, and give money, and raise a glass, and bid on auction items and clap us on the back and take postcards home, and eat hors d'oeuvres, all in good faith that come this June, my play will hit the boards. Which means as much as I may want to, in my weaker moments, I can't just burn the evidence, pack my bags, and move to Kyrgyzstan.

Wait, I can't, right?

Okay, okay, just asking.

What's the big deal, you may say (well, you wouldn't say it because I know you know just how I feel)? The truth is, I think of myself as a lot of things: an actor. a social worker. a food blogger. a home cook. a good eater. a fairly entertaining karaoke singer. a sometime fiction writer. But a playwright?

That's the thing about being part of a company of incredible artists with whom you have forged a real home, a haven, even, for your soul and spirit. You start to think you're all kinds of things, all kinds of people, that you can do all kinds of things you never before thought about doing, never would have dared to do, and not only do you start to THINK these things, but before you know it, you might actually DO some of them. And then you're really screwed.

The point is, I miss you. You see, this Sunday I'm going to have to get dressed up and go to this party and I'm going to have to be all, "Hi, I'm the Mouse. I'm the playwright. I wrote a play. And people are going to be saying my words out loud in public like I think I've got something to say that's worth listening to." And that is oh so scary. And I just wish I had my big sister with me to give me a peptalk and make sure I have a cocktail in my hand at all times.

Of course, I also wish you could come because this is going to be one hell of a party and one that a Mouse and a Boo would find particularly exciting. Not only will there be things like fried bay scallops with preserved lemon and parsley sauce (yum), pulled pork dumplings with asian pesto (yumm), and mushroom and truffle croquettes (yummm). But we have a truly incredible list of liquor sponsors*, who have been very generous with us and who will have to forgive me when I get a little sloppy because how can I not at least TRY each of our offerings?? And not only do we have these amazing sponsors, but we have an unbelievable host, Dushan Zaric, world-renown mixologist and restauranteur (Macao Trading Company, and Employees Only which was named the world's best cocktail bar in 2011), who is not only lending us his gorgeous venue but has personally created each and every specialty cocktail on the menu for this special night.

I'm including one of the cocktail recipes below with a humble request. On Sunday, some time between 7 and 10 pm, while I am in Manhattan and you are in KC, please mix yourself up one of these (or the closest approximation you can manage), think of me, send me a little mental comforting squeeze, give thanks to the universe for art and food, the generosity of those who allow us to indulge in both, and the freedom and luck to do it in abundance. Raise your glass, and knock it back for me.

Love,

The Mouse


*Tuthilltown Spirits, Whistle Pig Straight Rye Whiskey, Don Q Rum, Semental Tequila, Michael Collins Irish Whiskey, Barenjager Honey Liqueur, Brooklyn Gin, A.I. Selections, Polaner Selections, Wind Gap. WE LOVE YOU!!

How to Eat BBQ, Chapter I

"Look you can think, yes be patient there will be some technology magic bullet. Or you might think, 'Oh shit! This is like a ticking time bomb! We don't know when it will go off!' Wouldn't you do anything, anything you could to stop it? Think about that while you enjoy your lunch."

- 'Emmanuelle', French Canadian scientist, The Great Immensity

"Eat Food. Not too much. Mostly plants." -Michael Pollan

Dear Mouse,

You know how they say, 'You Are What You Act'?

Well, that's because they don't. But they should. Every time we do a play, we learn, and that learning becomes part of us. Always, there is new information about ourselves in the struggle to align ourselves with a new psychology. And often we learn much from the research necessary to inhabit the world of the play. This is where I could go into a whole thing about how acting is psychology, spirituality, anthropology, how it creates the capacity for empathy and thus is and always has been of the utmost importance to our evolution/survival ... but there are more pressing things to talk about.

Like meat sweats.

Famed BBQ joint Arthur Bryant's in Kansas City, MO, where we ate last night.

(Going on a Sunday seems a good idea, as we haven't yet had to wait for a table. Or a slab of meat.)

Are you familiar with this term? Because I wasn't. But there I was at Gates BBQ last Sunday night, which (because of the day off Monday) has become Official Meat Night for our cast and crew, and halfway through my "Short Ends", it happened.

"Wow, I just got, like, really hot!" I exclaimed, reaching for my friend's napkin with sauce-covered fingers. "I'm sweating .. am I sweating?" He looked up from his meal, and with eyes glazed as a Yammer Pie, nodded authoritatively. "Meat Sweats", he said.

Is that not ... the GROSSEST THING YOU HAVE EVER HEARD?

At Arthur Bryant's, El Directore informed me over a half pound of pulled pork that there is a word in spanish, tufo(sp?), which has no English equivalent. It refers to the alcohol reek coming off someone who maybe had one too many last night and is sweating it out over breakfast with you. I'm gonna go ahead and say that "meat sweats" is at least the english culinary version.

Though I guess you could just drink these straight up.

(Three kinds on each table: spicy, sweet, regular.)

These people are all high. On meat!

At Arthur Bryant's, I had the "Burnt Ends", which differ from Short Ends ... in that one is burnt and one is short. Haha. Ok seriously. One is (and here I'm quoting the theatre's Artist Welcome Packet) "the last seven or eight ribs in a slab of spare ribs", and one is "the blackened somewhat charred pieces of brisket ends that cannot be sliced". One is pork, one is beef (or veal). And I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that so far - so far!! - I preferred the ribs. Maybe I just like pork. And eating with my hands.

You can certainly get your meat a la carte, just a pile of animal on a plate, and many do. I opted both times for the open-face setup, in which the meat arrives over plain soft white bread slices, which get soaked through with the BBQ sauce, and coin-shaped dill pickle slices from a jar. Extra (but, come on, non-negotiable) are a couple of sides such as sweet, smoky baked beans, coleslaw (which I'm not into), or a pile of hot, fat french fries (yes, please). You don't have to have a giant mug of cold beer on the side, but you also don't have to be smart or cool. (Apologies; you can also have "Red Cream" Soda, for those of you who like bubble gum that has been melted down and carbonated and infused with Essence of Marshmallow.)

Now here's where you might be scratching your head and saying "So ... I guess The Boo is doing a play ... about barbecue?" And to that I say, stay with me.

A statue on The Plaza. This guy has had it, HAD IT, with carbon emissions.

('The Plaza" is a turreted, cream-colored stretch of fancy stores and restaurants that I read is supposed to look like Seville, Spain, but whoever thinks that is probably tufo.)

I'm not going to spend this blog trying to recap Michael Pollan's "Defense of Food" or Mark Bittman's "Food Matters", but if you've even heard these names you probably already know something about how the food choices we make have an impact on the health/longevity of our planet. Excessive meat consumption has been linked to .... Oh, here, watch this. At your leisure.

So if I'm in Kansas City working on this beautiful play about our environment, how dare I stand here going on and on about my Burnt Ends? When the polar bears are dying? Have I left no sense of decency?

Camera, pull back. Let us look, for a moment, at the big picture. And by that I mean my diet. As a whole.

"Some switch got flipped in my brain. I wasn't even trying. One day it was real."

- Polly, The Great Immensity

The Boo's Sample Weekday Menu Since Arriving in KC

(Which Started With Simply Being Concerned About Making It Through The Day And Looking Good On Opening Night And Also There's The Proximity To Health Nut Store)

Breakfast: Whole oatmeal made with rice milk, walnuts and dried cranberries, drizzled with agave syrup. Local coffee from The Roasterie: dark, bold, stunning.

Mid-morning rehearsal snack: apple, banana, carrot, and maybe raw broccoli chunks (rare but has happened).

Lunch: turkey/hummus/alfalfa sprouts/raw kale sandwich on locally made whole-wheat pita bread. another apple. sweet potato chips.

mid-afternoon snack: whatever I have left from mid-morning... another couple of carrots? a bag of cashews from vending machine?

Dinner: Seeds of Change 'Whole Grain Quinoa Blend'. Amy's Black Bean Chili. A big pile of The Boo's Raw Kale Salad (which is the stuff of legend by now if I do say so myself) with parmesan, nuts, sprouts, whatever's around. Coconut water. Multivitamin.

Dessert: Green & Black's organic chocolate from freezer. And yes, ok, Mouse, once or twice: microwaved bananas. Slice 'em up with agave syrup and oatmeal and walnuts and a little cream, 3 minutes on high, it's what I had in the house. And it was delicious.

And then, on Sunday:

L to R: baked beans, companion's pulled pork sandwich, "small" Red Cream soda, Boulevard Brewing Co Pale Ale, fries, 'Burnt Ends Open-Face' sandwich.

No, I have not lost my mind. I'm just trying something. Do I care about the planet and its future? Hell yes; increasingly so in the face of all this (delightfully entertaining) information. Am I going to give up meat to save the planet? Hell no! Am I still drinking coffee from disposable containers? Baby steps. But it turns out that trading in "less carbs" thinking for "more plants" thinking is just more fun. For one thing, it involves eating MORE not less of something. And when Sunday arrives I eat whatever I please, without a care in the world. AND remember those "second chakra issues" I mentioned? I find that at least one of them shows signs of leaving. No, not that one. But all in good time.

Love,

The Boo

Baker's Dozen #5: Cousin Brett (and the Commons!)

The CommonFolk: From left to right, Matt, Sarah, Sam, and Brett.
HALF of this staff is related to us.

Dear Boo,

This latest installment of our ever-popular Baker's Dozen series (well, I'm a fan, at least), brings us back yet again to our very own family. Naturally, two sisters don't become as obsessed with food and cooking as we are simply by accident. No, the rivulets of butter run deep, and so its no surprise that today's guest - our cousin Brett! - is himself a tad bit, shall we say, enthusiastic. Some might say that opening a cafe dangerously close to where I and other family members live, designed by our cousin Bill, with baked goods homemade by his mother (our oft-referenced Auntie), and managed by his brother (our cousin Sam!), is taking it a little far. I will forgive him the proximity of so many butter-laden treats (not to mention the TO DIE FOR pork sandwich) because I am absolutely thrilled that The Commons was born this year. There is something ever so comforting in the fact that, anxious, sleep deprived, and chilled to the bone on the way to my new job, I can walk into the cozy little cafe and be greeted like family with a nice hot, perfectly brewed cup of coffee. After that, everything goes down a little easier. Now if only they would deliver lunch to my office...

Slow Roasted Pork Sandwich with broiled tomatoes, pickled carrots and habanero mayo on brioche. Holy Crap.

Moving on. I give you, a Baker's Dozen with our cousin Brett, with contributions by Sam and the whole cast of Commons Characters!

1) Where'd you get the name for the Commons? And for that matter, where the heck did you get the idea to open a cafe in the first place?
My partners Sarah Wallace, Matthew Mogil and I all grew up together and went to the same high school. The Commons was the name of our cafeteria and was were we ate lunch and hung out together. The three of us operated Organicoa, a seasonal cafe in the Hudson River Park for two summers. The food, vibe and service was so well received, we knew we would be successful bringing a more fine-tuned version to Chelsea. Once we signed our lease, the brainstorming for a new name began but was short lived. When Matt suggested The Commons.....it felt so right!

2) I can only imagine the kind of hilarious and disastrous antics which would occur if my sister and ran a restaurant. You and your brother are in this venture together. How's that workin out? Honest. I won't tell him.
Honestly, its great. He's taken charge of this gig and is our star GM. He's passionate about the operation, and more importantly, our customers. Thats what I love about him! We fight - cause I'm older and always right :) but really, The Commons wins out because we both contribute important, but different perspectives on what is necessary.

3) The Boo and I are slightly obsessed with placing the perfect order at a restaurant. What's the perfect order at the Commons?
The perfect order at The Commons? Breakfast must involve a latte from our amazing baristas (coffee from La Colombe) and a slice of Tortilla Espanola. For lunch, the pork sandwich and a blood orange iced tea. Dessert is an easy one--grab a cup of Organicoa hot cocoa and a chocolate chip cookie from our own Arlene's Bakery.

4) The Husband loves him some Fro-coa, your frozen hot chocolate. What's the secret to its deliciousness?
The Frocoa began during the summer in the park at Organicoa. It is made with the best dairy money can buy (Battenkill Valley Creamery, we love you!) and organic cocoa syrup. We will sell Organicoa Frocoa in The Commons, Summer 2012 - we are currently selling the equally delicious Organicoa Hot Cocoa here at The Commons - come grab a cup!

5) What's your favorite meal your mom, of Arlene's Bakery fame, makes for you?
Besides her dessert skills, she is really an all around amazing cook! Her brisket is top notch...carrot ring on the side and homemade applesauce is hard to beat for a holiday dinner. Spaghetti and Meatballs are perfect too.
What about dessert? As you know, our holiday dinners end with at least 3-4 desserts. All of them are soooo good. I love her Key lime pie and chocolate chip cookies

6) What are your earliest food memories?
Well our grandmother was the greatest cook, so definitely my first memories were of her cooking. A Polish immigrant who first lived in Atlanta, GA, she cooked Jewish food to perfection but also made southern fried chicken, corn fritters w maple syrup and incredible desserts. Honestly everything she made was the best thing I've ever eaten.

7) What was the first meal you remember making on your own?
Really hard to say. I love to cook and have been doing so for a long time. I studied abroad in Italy so I have a soft spot for Italian. Pasta is my favorite, and usually the true test of a great Italian restaurant. It's probably what I tried my hand at first. I actually think I learned a lot of what I know from watching Molto Mario! My eggplant parm is pretty damn good too.

8) Why do you think our family is so obsessed with food?
It goes back to Baba, our grandma - we always ate together as a family and it has still stayed true. It has gone from family holiday meals, to food blogs, restaurants and cafes.....I love it and can't wait to see more of it!

9) You are a real estate magnate by day and restauranteur by night. I'm guessing you squeeze in dinner somewhere around 12am. What's your favorite late night snack?
We are all busy here at The Commons and have built this biz mostly around the cafe and have some local favorites. Sammy's Noodle Shop runs about the best delivery service on this planet - their chow fun, lo mein and moo shoo are pretty damn good. The Dirty Bird to-go recognizes our phone number when we call, lets just say that... Best fried chicken out!

10) Favorite pizza topping?
I have to stick to plain. Sal and Carmines on 101st and Broadway is by far, the best slice in the city

11) Top three places to eat in NYC.
Ellabess in the Nolitan Hotel is run by Epicurean MGT of L'artusi and Dell'Anima fame and is a must try. Sarah introduced me to Diner in Williamsburg and I think its a perfect restaurant. Lupa is an old favorite. We are huge fans of Mario and Lupa is spot on.

12) I'm having this internal debate and I want you to weigh in. Where do you stand on cake pops and sliders? Delicious trend, or annoyingly twee?
Can't say I've ever heard of cake pops! But in general I'm not high on gimmicky food. But I have to admit, sliders are hard to pass up. Locanda Verde does an amazing lamb slider and Joey Campanaro's meatball sliders are perfect.

13) You know real estate and now you know the NYC food world. It seems like the trend is towards smaller, more casual restaurants with no a no reservations policy and amazing food (like your tenants, Torrisi). With rents like the space down the street from us which was reportedly asking 40K a month of its restaurant tenants, I can't help but think real estate prices have a lot to do with this. What do you think?
I love real estate and have had a great time at Veracity Development. We have seen Nolita boom and rents follow suit. Now that rent is such a thorn in my side with the cafe, its easy to understand the struggle of restaurants to keep up with escalating rents. While I play both sides, representing landlords and operating a cafe, I can't help but know that the market moves in a circle. The rents are up, the rents are down. There will always be side streets, new neighborhoods and the occasional great deal. Great operators know the right concept, for the right space in the right time. I like the variety - Torrisi is a special place and they hit a home run with concept/space/time - its a model to follow but it doesn't work everywhere. The best thing about NYC is that we have somewhere to eat for every occasion.

Amen, Coz. And welcome to the 'hood. See you tomorrow morning.

This chicken sandwich has a poached egg, bacon and frisee. Yeah, you heard me.

Love,

The Mouse