cream cheese -

by Maids

The Great Bagel Debate: Montreal v. NYC

A little over a month ago I ventured to the FAR NORTH with my new hubbie (Romeo). That’s right folks, I’m talking about Canada. We spent a little under a week in Montreal, an exceedingly charming city full of appealing, beautiful, smiling, amiable people who seemed to do almost everything better than their southern neighbors.

Our luggage arrived at baggage claim within mere seconds of us exiting the secure area and public transportation was far-advanced and gloriously easy to understand. The city was thoroughly walkable and every neighborhood left us gasping at its beauty. Nearly everyone was bilingual yet didn’t look down on us for our inability to speak French. The food courts were full of healthy food: fresh and delicious and diverse. The more upscale dining joints were completely comfortable with my food limitations and whipped up thoroughly decadent dishes.

Everything was beautiful, perfect and French Canadian. I was in love.

I was eager to try one particular morsel of Montreal cuisine that I had heard about from all the Canucks I’ve ever known: The Montreal bagel.

Every Canuck I’ve come across has sung the praises of the Montreal bagel, asserting its clear superiority over the New York bagel. As it was hard for me, the daughter of a New York Jew, to imagine any way of improving on a genuine New York bagel (far easier to improve on the piss-poor excuse for bagels we tend to encounter in DC), I couldn’t wait to try this mythic culinary invention.

Would the Montreal bagel stand up to my expectations? And what’s the difference between a Montreal bagel and a NYC bagel anyway? Answers after the jump….

by Russell Warnick

Neiman Marcus Cake

The best part about living in a different country from where I grew up is that I come across new and unique things almost daily, even after seven years of living in DC.

On a recent shopping trip a friend told me of a cake called Neiman Marcus. A cake named after a department store, only in America. Being a gay he denied ever eating it (although you’d never guess) so he wasn’t sure what was in it or if it had any relationship to its namesake. However, he was kind enough to find a recipe for me — knowing my love of spending money and food it seemed like the perfect way to keep me from an afternoon at the mall.

Apparently my lack of baking skills really showed with this one — check out what happened after the jump.

in Cheese / Desserts / Recipe 10 comments

by Russell Warnick

Kumquat Cupcakes

Like most of us here, I’m no baker and don’t particularly enjoy the restrictions it brings. Exact measurements are not my thing. I like to experiment with ingredients, which is why I leave desserts alone. But, the purchase of a new Kitchen Aid mixer has propelled me into this unknown world, for my first true (not from a box) baking experience.

On a recent Sunday afternoon I was sitting at the bar of Café Atlántico when I came across kumquats soaking in St. Germain elderflower liquor. Coincidentally, later in the day I spotted some kumquats at Whole Foods, which is a rarity. It was one of those situations where you never hear or see anything for a long time and then it all comes at once. I love those moments so I bought two quarts of the fruit, not having any idea what I was going to do with them until the walk home.

in Desserts / Endless Cupcakes / Recipe 4 comments

by BS

ES Local: New York’s Four-Figure Dishes

We all know that eating out in New York can often be a ridiculously expensive proposition. But what about the times when you want to make that really ridiculous? Recession or not, there are still a good few places around town where you can drop $1,000 on just one dish. Worth it? Umm…we’ll probably never know. The ES accounting department wouldn’t shell out expenses for this story. Anyone out there want to sponsor a $4,000 restaurant crawl?

The $1,000 Dish: Bagel and cream cheese
Where: The Westin New York at Times Square, 270 West 43rd St., but only during the fall truffle season.
Why: Alba white truffle cream cheese, goji berry infused Riesling jelly and specks of golden leaves.
$1 alternative: A schmear to go from H&H’s midtown outpost. 629 West 46th St.

The $1,000 Dish: Omelet
Where: Norma’s restaurant at Le Parker Meridien Hotel, 119 West 56th St.
Why: Six eggs whipped up with lobster and 10 ounces of Sevruga caviar (that’s a lot).
$1 alternative: Sausage McMuffin, now a buck at the McDonald’s around the corner.

in Desserts / Eggs 1 comments

by gansie

Turning Gross into Dip

80P and I attended a latke themed Chanukah party this weekend. Like most Saturdays, we were still hungover well after the sun set and therefore arrived at the open house party in its last hour. We were starving. In the car ride over I lusted after the idea of greasy potatoes. When we got to the party there was ONE latke left. Sure, I’ll take that as a Chanukah miracle, but one just wasn’t going to cut it.

80 and I stayed at the party for a while, chatting with old coworkers about lobbying for the banking industry, receiving health insurance through organized labor, and gushing over Annise Parker‘s pending victory as Houston’s mayor. Yes, I know. It’s so very DC.

The party landed 80 and I in the unfamiliar chain-filled land of Northern Virginia. We asked for a dinner recommendation and settled on Silver Diner. Obviously I chose breakfast for dinner in the form of pancakes, scrambled eggs and a biscuit (which was a sub for bacon/sausage.) 80 ordered a meat-heavy sandwich on buttered sourdough featuring chicken, ham and bacon. The sandwich came with fries and this eerily green-tinted cole slaw. I stole a few fries from 80 but we both refused to try the cole slaw, citing our mutual dislike for the side, especially a green tinted one.

The next morning 80 woke up dedicating his stomach to vegetables. I obliged.

in Recipe / Veggie 7 comments

by gansie

Boiling Away Hate

I totally get why little kids would think spinach is gross. Most probably share my first vision of spinach: Popeye drinking dark green goo, out of a can, and then beating the shit out of people. It was totally weird and random. Did spinach bring out rage in sailors?

Eating vegetables, let alone drinking them, was just not on my things to do list (which included making my oma judge my many productions of a My Little Pony beauty pageant. Moondancer always won.)

But I still don’t get what gives veggies a bad rap in general. And some more than others. Carrots, cucumbers, zucchini, there’s really not that much angst against them. But brussels sprouts? It’s like they’re so hateful that they’d rather stop helping the homeless than let two consenting adults build a life together.

Why are brussels sprouts so hated?

They’re pretty cute, actually. Adorable little bulbs with pretty, pale green petals. They’re not scary, weapon-like spears like asparagus. They’re not slimy with a clinical and unappetizing sounding name—fungus—like mushrooms. They don’t splooge juice like a tomato. Brussels sprouts are small and neatly compact.

Why all the hate?

in Recipe / Veggie 2 comments

by BS

Going Deep for Breakfast

Editors’ Note: We’re very excited to have a guest post today from Aimee Bourque, who blogs her culinary escapades at Under the High Chair; great food guaranteed, clean floors unlikely.

I think we can all agree, breakfast should be a tranquil start to our day. Whether you like your mornings to begin with merely the perfect muffin or prefer a full-on trucker’s breakfast, assaults on the senses are not welcome, nor, I’ve discovered, are conversations with a three-year-old.

On an average Saturday morning in my house, I take the path of least resistance in hopes of maintaining the peace. This means serving up something featuring bread and covered in our own harvested maple syrup for the little monkeys—with bacon of course. (We’re talking about my offspring here—they’ve embraced bacon without hesitation; as for the maple syrup, well, we are Canadian, after all.) All week we’ve slogged through balanced meals, fighting bite for bite, and now I just want them to hush up and eat up while I wake up.

This Deep Dish Blueberry French Toast is assembled the night before so the only real effort required in the morning is to bake and serve. Unfortunately, the simplicity of this breakfast dish doesn’t guarantee the sought after ‘Zen’ morning. Case in point on a recent weekend: I have just pulled a bubbling French toast from the oven and things are shaping up nicely—that is, until my pre-schooler wakes up.

No ‘good morning’, no hugs, he stumbles out of his room with this announcement:

“Mummy, I just made a little bit of barf in my mouth.”

He can’t say his ‘R’s and so he says ‘barf’ with what sounds like a British accent. BAwf.

Wordlessly, I hand him his sippy cup with apple juice and glance at his father, who is present at the kitchen table but hidden behind the newspaper. As expected, there is no response from him. Uh huh, selective hearing.

My son continues:

in Breakfast / Eggs / Featured / Personal / Recipe 24 comments