Fill 'er up!

It's no secret to anyone, least of all to my loyal readers, that I am a caffeine addict. Over the years, we've enjoyed many a caffeinated treat together, including coffee in Paris, hot chocolate in Prague, and Diet Coke on hungover New York mornings.

My latest caffeine-laced obsession is Joe The Art of Coffee. I'd visited Joe on Waverly a couple of times before, but obviously the Upper East Side to Greenwich Village trip is not always the most convenient trek for a cup of coffee. And so, I was pretty damn psyched when I heard that Joe was opening a new branch on Columbus Avenue, between 84th and 85th - just a crosstown bus ride away, and open in time for Staycation 2009.

On Wednesday afternoon, after my visit to Pearl Oyster Bar, I hopped on the C train from West 4th and headed uptown. The day, which had been hopelessly gray and dreary when I scrambled down the subway stairs, seemed noticeably brighter when I emerged at the corner of 86th and Central Park West.

It became brighter still when I spotted Joe - and, more importantly, a free table. I snagged the table, claiming it for my laptop, and walked up to the counter to order my first drink - a cappuccino, to stay. The barista punched a fresh frequent drinker card and got to work. Every single drink at Joe is made fresh, and every single one is a labor of love.

My cappuccino arrived complete with milk art (a heart, aw), and I retreated to my spot by the window to enjoy it properly. And what a cappuccino it was. The milk was silky and smooth, with a fine mousse (as opposed to the fluffier milk you get at, ahem, inferior coffee shops) and a nutty, toasty flavor. And the espresso - my god. Round and full in the mouth, smoky and sweet, almost like a good bourbon.

Next up, a cafe au lait, my breakfast beverage of choice. Made with Joe's house drip, this was less potent than the cappuccino, a bit gentler all around. That said, it went down just as easily and was just as delicious - just not quite as grand.

I ended up spending three hours at Joe that afternoon - and two hourse the next. The staff are happy to let you chill and hang as long as you like - though there isn't free WiFi provided by the house, which is pretty much the only even close to bad thing I can think of to say about it. So get your uptown bums over there now, ok? OK.

Oh, and - for you out-of-towners? Joe offers their beans for sale online!

Joe The Art of Coffee
514 Columbus Avenue
Between 84th and 85th Streets
212-875-0100

Vote for me!

Well, dear readers, when it rains, it apparently pours!

I entered my apartment in Apartment Therapy's annual Small Cool contest, and it's been posted for voting! This is just the first round - if I get enough "Thumbs Up" votes this time around, I will then proceed to the final round.

So, pretty please - click through to my entry and click the "Thumbs Up" button as soon as possible. My entry is only eligible for voting till Sunday afternoon, so don't dilly-dally!

And many, many thanks in advance. You guys are the best!

Queenie's Take: In the beginning...

One of my absolute favorite things to read is the Dear Prudence column over at Slate. Every week, Prudie (really Emily Yoffe, a Slate staff writer) takes on questions of etiquette and interpersonal relationships, always with a healthy dose of humor - and horror, when appropriate.

It was while reading Prudie a couple of weeks ago that it hit me - ever since I started blogging as Queenie, I've gotten tons of emails (and phone calls - you know who you are) asking for advice about where to eat, how to entertain, and what to cook. I (try to) answer each question, but I don't share the advice terribly widely.

And, so, I'm very excited to announce "Queenie's Take," a new weekly feature here at Queenie Takes Manhattan! Each Thursday, I'll be taking on a question or three with wit and verve. Now, while I definitely have opinions about relationships, romantic and otherwise, I'll be keeping the official Queenie advice to questions about cooking & baking, entertaining, culinary history, travel, and dining out.

This week, in the spirit of things just starting, I'll be answering questions about jump-starting your kitchen and cookbook library.

And, if you have a question you'd like to see answered in a future "Queenie's Take," just leave it in the comments!

What are the first five cookbooks any beginning cook should buy, and why? - Louisa, Sandusky, OH

Obviously, there's an element of personal taste involved here. For instance, my great culinary loves are French and Italian foods, with a big emphasis on vegetables and pastry. But you might want to cook mainly Vietnamese food or have a thing for traditional English pub grub. So, what I'm going to do is recommend investing in three robust classics, and tell you about two of my favorite add-ons, books that speak directly to my own sensibilities.

1. The Gourmet Cookbook, Ruth Reichl
Setting my Ruth Reichl fascination aside for a moment, this is still a remarkably wonderful cookbook. It's huge (1,056 pages, 1,000+ recipes), but well-indexed and easy to use. The recipes are detailed but straightforward, and the dishes range in difficulty from very, very simple to fairly complex. It's decidedly American in its eclecticism - there are recipes for French classics like bouillabaisse, Spanish ones like paella, and even one for pad thai. More importantly, the book seeks to educate you about the origins of its recipes and techniques. Following in the steps of the great Julia Child, Ruth Reichl knows that cooking is not just about blindly following a recipe, but about understanding why you're doing what you're doing. Which brings us to...

2. Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume I, Simone Beck, Louisette Bertholle, and Julia Child
It's hard to overestimate the impact Julia Child and her fellow authors had on the American palate. Though she's certainly not solely responsible (Alice Waters comes to mind here), Julia is a huge part of the reason why we eat so many fresh vegetables with delicious, light vinaigrettes; why we make apple pies with fresh apples and homemade crusts; why we once again have chicken that tastes like chicken. Her cooking show and cookbooks exploded the mid-century obsession with factory-based cooking, and are as relevant today as they were forty years ago. Julia will teach you how to roast a chicken, how to make a salad, how to turn a vegetable - and then how to gradually build on top of those basic skills. Along with her husband Paul's impeccable line drawings, her words will teach you more than I can possibly explain. And, lest you be one of those people out there who still believe that French food = fussy, Julia will set you straight, once and for all.

3. The Joy of Cooking, Irma Rombauer
The veritable Bible of American cooking. Where Gourmet is a decidedly modern take on the American canon, Rombauer's book retains the flavor of pre-Julia America, with fantastic, easy recipes for classics like brownies, pancakes, and casseroles. The merits of the latest edition, re-worked for a more contemporary cook in celebration of the original's 75th anniversary, have been hotly debated. For my money, the original is still the best, in all its 1930s frugal practicality.

4. Barefoot in Paris, Ina Garten -and- 5. Lidia's Italian-American Kitchen, Lidia Bastianich
Ina's French cookbook simply can't be beat for foolproof, delicious bistro classics. Her gougeres? Simple as can be to make, incredibly impressive when served. The brownie tart makes grown men swoon, and there's little that makes me happier than her creme brulee. She takes the straightest, easiest route to delicious, entertaining-friendly French food, which is pretty miuch my favorite thing to cook, ever. And Lidia! If she isn't the Nonna we all wish we had teaching us to cook, I don't know who is. Like Ina, her food is simple to prepare, but tastes anything but, and is meant to serve a crowd.

What cookbooks would you guys recommend?

What do you consider essential food items/ingredients (spices, etc.) to keep in your kitchen such that you don't have to buy every single ingredient when preparing a particular recipe? - Richard, New York, NY

Like the cookbook question, this depends largely on the kinds of food you like to prepare. I recently unearthed a bottle of chili powder that's survived eight years and three moves without being opened, but you might be someone who'd use it all the time. However, here's a list of things I try to never be without:

Kosher salt & freshly ground black pepper: Kosher salt is easier to handle with your hands, and is the salt most often used by cookbook authors and recipe testers. So use it, wouldja? As for pepper - those blends of red, green and black peppercorns are pretty, but the clear, true flavor of black pepper is what you want for cooking.

Butter & canola oil: Unsalted butter, please - you can always add salt to taste, but you can't take it out. Canola oil is more versatile than olive oil - neutral in flavor and with a high smoking point, it can be used for cooking or for salad dressings.

Flour & sugar: Even if you're not a big baker, you'll want to have at least a small box of flour on hand for thickening sauces and soups. Sugar, well, duh!

Tomato paste & Dijon mustard: Both are great secret weapons for creating deep flavor with very little effort, and the mustard is essential for vinaigrettes, too.

Eggs: An absolute must for bakers, these are also great for creating quick, easy dinners (omelets, fritattas, and so on).

Garlic & shallots: Garlic is God's gift to mankind; shallots are more versatile and less acidic than onions.

Sherry & champagne vinegars: Between these two, you can make a huge variety of salad dressings, mayonnaises, and so on - and also add a teaspoon or two to sauces for a bit of contrast.

Baking soda, baking powder, and vanilla extract: These are really for those who plan to bake. Vanilla pops up in pretty much every baked good known to man, so invest in some good stuff. Baking soda and baking powder ARE different, so buy both. They cost about a buck apiece, so you can splurge here.

What do you think? Did I leave anything out that you consider essential?

By the way, a HUGE thank you to all the friends who sent me questions for the first edition of "Queenie's Take." If I didn't answer you this week, have no fear - your question will be included in a future edition!

Sooooooo worth it.

Yesterday started off gloomy, with spitting, noncommittal rain and low, gray clouds. Suitably depressed, I spent the morning catching up on emails, checking in with my tweeps, and charging up my laptop. I trudged out the door at about noon and took the (oddly crowded with children) bus across town, and then the C train down to the West Village.

My destination? Pearl Oyster Bar, the legendary (and legendarily tiny - at least before its recent expansion into space next door) seafood restaurant on Cornelia Street. I'd been hearing tell of Pearl's obscenely delicious lobster roll for years now, but the accompanying descriptions of ridiculously long lines pretty much killed my curiosity.

I figured, though, that a weekday afternoon was probably a pretty good time to avoid the crowds and decided to give it a shot. I was right! When I walked into the restaurant, it was about half-full, and since I was alone, the bartender invited me to sit at any of the open bar stools. I hopped up to a spot right in the middle, pulled out my book, and ordered a glass of Pinot Blanc and a lobster roll.

The lobster roll arrived about five minutes later, accompanied by piping hot shoestring fries. Huge chunks of lobster tossed with mayonnaise, salt, pepper and lemon juice graced a freshly-toasted (and buttered) brioche hot dog bun. Topped with a shower of chives, it was pretty much one of the best things I've ever tasted. I can't explain it - I think it must be either something in the lobsters' cooking liquid or some kind of alchemy, but this salad was just...insane.

I doused the fries with malt vinegar and dug in. I thought the ridiculous deliciousness would wear off as I made my way through the roll, but I was wrong - the very last bite was just as good as the very first. Possibly more so, since it involved the buttered bun.

Now, I'm a New Englander. I have my loyalties, and I am of course of the mind that seafood - particularly lobster and, say, fried clams - are best enjoyed as close to the ocean as possible, preferably at a picnic table within spraying distance of the waves. However. I am not exaggerating when I say this was, without a doubt, the best lobster roll of my life.

I finished the meal off with two mugs of coffee and a few more pages of my book, reluctant to leave the calming rythms of the semi-open kitchen and gentle hum of conversation at the bar. Eventually, though, I packed up my things and headed back out into the gray New York afternoon - which, I have to admit, seemed a whole lot brighter.

Pearl Oyster Bar
18 Cornelia Street
Between Bleecker and West 4th
212-621-8211 (No Reservations)

What do ramps taste like?

Morwena asked this question today, and it's a fair one - chances are, if you don't live in the northeastern U.S. or eastern Canada, you've never tasted a ramp.

So, here's my answer: to me, ramps taste like spring onions crossed with garlic, with a slightly meaty flavor thrown in for good measure.

Do you guys agree?

Cucumbers + chicken = heaven.

On Monday morning, I had a work call at 9:30 (that's right, I'm very dedicated). After that, though, it was staycation all the way.

Since my mom was staying with me, and had meetings of her own all morning (over the phone, natch), I decided to vacate the premises as best I could. I took the opportunity to hit the market for some chicken, cucumbers and bacon (the better to fuel up for my staycation, of course).

On Tuesday morning, I seasoned said chicken with salt, pepper, and thyme (from my windowsill - it's so nice to have access to fresh herbs at a moment's notice again) and roasted it. It's well-documented on this blog how much I like to have cold chicken lying around at all times. In this case, though, I will admit I had a plan in mind for at least some of the meat.

While the chicken cooled, I set out some vinegar, oil, mustard and an egg yolk on the counter. Once they'd reached room temperature, I whisked the yolk, mustard and vinegar together, adding a pinch of salt and a grind or two of pepper. As I whisked, I drizzled in the oil - drop by drop at first, then in a thin stream, until the egg yolk had taken on all the oil and had become...mayonnaise.

Honestly, if there's a pleasure more basic or delicious than homemade mayonnaise folded with warm chicken, cucumber, chopped shallots, and finished with some chervil and chives, I don't know it. I truly don't.

Queenie's Chicken Salad

Breast of one roasted chicken, cut into 3/4-inch cubes
1 Kirby cucumber, seeded and cut into 1/2-inch chunks
1 small shallot, finely chopped
1 tbs. chervil, finely chopped
1 tbs. chives, finely chopped
1 to 2 tbs. homemade mayonnaise
Salt and pepper, to taste

Combine the chicken, shallot, cucumber, chervil and half the chives in a medium bowl. Add the mayonnaise a bit at a time, folding the ingredients into the sauce, until your salad has the desired consistency. Season to taste with salt and pepper, sprinkle with the remaining chives, and eat as soon as humanly possible.

Serves one, generously.

If you can't find chervil, substitute a teaspoon of flat-leaf parsley. If you don't want to make homemade mayo, substitute two tablespoons of commercial mayonnaise mixed with one teaspoon of sherry vinegar.

Finally!

Saturday was the first day of my staycation, and I decided to get things off to a fitting and proper start with a trip to the Union Square Greenmarket. It was absolutely pouring - and before 9 AM - so the market was fairly empty.

This is a good thing for two reasons: first, for someone who absolutely loves living in Manhattan, I get a little ticked off in large crowds (particularly when I'm trying to get my grocery shopping done and the other people are just oohing and aahing at the wares). Second, it boded well for me getting my paws on some ramps.

Sure enough, I succeeded! I heard whispers running through the crowd from the second I crossed 14th Street - people asking the various vendors if they had any ramps, and the farmers shaking their heads and pointing toward the west side of the park.

And there, just north of the subway entrance on Union Square West, were ramps. Piles and piles of them. A bit small and short, but ramps nonetheless. I reached in, grabbed five bunches, forked over $12.50, and sped off to get some fresh Knoll Crest pasta.

When I got home, I put away the day's purchases (spring onions, chives, the ramps, duck legs, tulips) and sped off to do the rest of my errands. When my friend Ellie called to let me know she wouldn't be coming into the city to meet up, I knew what I had to do.

I cleaned a few of the ramps, in all their stinky goodness, and made my favorite (well, one of the top two) "welcome, spring!" recipes - ramps with bacon, fettucine, and an egg.

And even though it was a rainy, cold day, I knew spring was on its way. Proof? It's supposed to be 65 and sunny tomorrow. Finally!