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taoiu4pqda · Wysłany: Wto 12:35, 21 Sty 2014 Temat postu:

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taoiu4pqda · Wysłany: Nie 16:10, 19 Sty 2014 Temat postu:

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Makes Me Wanna Challah
I really did try to find the right kind of restaurant to go to so that I could participate in this month's Dine and Dish, a new foodblogging event now in its second installment. Dine and Dish is the brainchild of the lovely and talented Sarah at The Delicious Life. Sadly I missed the first month's theme, which was aptly named Barfly. I know just what bar I would have eaten at, too.
This month the theme is Queen of Cuisine, and the task is to dine at and write about a restaurant with a woman chef. I'm a little behind on the NYC restaurant scene to be quite honest, since we don't eat out with any real frequency. That may be why I just don't know of a wide number of restaurants in NYC that have women chefs. There are some pricey ones. Then again, when does anyone actually know the chefs' names, gender or anything else about them except when the restaurants are highend? I could have done some research and called some of my fave middlebrow places to find out if the kitchens were headed by females, but time was lacking. I do know of Gabrielle Hamilton who owns and heads the kitchen at Prune. And I've actually been dying to try it. But it simply wasn't in the cards this month.
So instead I've chosen to write about a place that still exists, but has been scarily reconfigured. I'm going to tell the tale of its former glory. Good, filling, inexpensive food that cannot be duplicated was once served there, on Second Avenue at East 7th Street, at the Kiev. Once upon a time, New Yorkers knew that at any hour of the day or night, you could get buttery potato or cheese pierogi topped with perfect caramelbronze fried onions and a little dish of sour cream. You could order footlong cylindrical blintzes: delicate crepes fried to a crisply hot exterior, oozing creamy, vanillascented pot cheese from within. There was sour cream with those too, or applesauce. Or both. Or you could have both with crunchy potato pancakes instead. Then again, you might (if you had been so lucky as to go to the old Kiev) have requested one of the combination platters that included two or more of the "Kiev specialties". If you didn't want those, you could always have soup chicken soup or wonderful daily specials, borscht and pea soup and white bean with leeks and dill each one a meal in itself, especially since the brimming bowl of soup arrived with two thick slices of homemade, eggy, golden challah bread and little cups of butter and jam. Almost all dishes at the Kiev came with that challah and consider this in light of the fact that most of the dishes I've named and will name in this post were under five dollars, and all of them were well under ten. You could buy a huge, triplehumpbacked loaf of that challah to take home with you too, for just a few dollars. I can't even enumerate all the wonderful things at the old Kiev the huge dish of nutty buckwheat kasha with meltingly tender beef chunks and mushroom gravy, the best babka I've ever eaten, or maybe eggs and kielbasa served with kasha instead of homefries, if you so desired. If for some reason you or perhaps your companion didn't want Russian food, you could have anything you might have ordered in any coffee shop in America a burger, a grilled cheese, an omelette; iced tea or a big thick milkshake. But I went there, at least once a week for several years, for the Eastern European specialties.
They called her Mama. Who even knows what her real name was? Occasionally you could catch a glimpse of her through the window that connected the front counter and cash register with the kitchen. She was a stocky Eastern European lady with rosy cheeks from spending her days over the big stove and usually she was a blur of motion. "Mama!" the waitresses, blond and dark ponytailed, sneakered girls from the Ukraine and Georgia and Belarus sang out. "One order potato pierogi boiled, a pierogiblintz combo and a bowl borscht, quick quick!" "Mama! Where's my takeout for the front?" Sergei the counterman would cry. All the countermen seemed to be named Sergei. Sometimes they called out the order in Russian, and I couldn't catch the words but the cry of "Mama!" was always the same.
Maybe the names were coded. Maybe all the countermen were Sergei; maybe the waitresses had rotating sobriquets of Masha and Natalya and Tanya. There had to have been several cooks, since the restaurant never closed; it seems they were all simply known as "Mama", perhaps an honorific much like "chef" in other restaurants. I don't know, and I can't ask, because (as Pastor Niedermeier would say) there's noone left to ask. The old Kiev is no longer. And whither Mama? Until fairly recently, women were "cooks" and men were "chefs"; how many talented women have cooked us all wonderful restaurant meals, unnoticed and unsung?
Slowly the Kiev changed. Many of us didn't like it when they remodeled, and took out the middle room and the old back room, where you walked up a short flight of stairs to a long narrow space with more tables. But at least the food stayed the same, more or less. Then one day, when I hadn't been there for many months, I walked in and the counter was gone. In its place was a bar. How strange, I thought. I was comforted, however, by the sight of a man eating a double order of pierogi at a nearby table. Time passed again, and I had long ago stopped visiting the Kiev with any regularity. One night, out late in the East Village, I thought I might stop and get some of my old favorites to take home. I could pick up a loaf of challah for my father, perhaps.
That's the only thing that remained the same. You can still buy the challah, and I like to think that there is a "Mama" out there somewhere who makes it. The restaurant has a new name. It's called "Kiev East". It's not open 24 hours. The banged up old wooden tables and chairs are gone, and in their place is a dark blue lighting scheme that tries for romantic or mysterious or something that escapes me altogether, and a dcor that simply tries too hard. Worst of all, the big old menu is gone. In its place is someone's fantasy of a Eurotrashed Eastern European/Asian fusion menu. They now have seafood pierogis, and vegetable "potato" pancakes, made with parsnips and red peppers, served with gingered sour cream. They might be very good. I don't know. But I don't want them. Nor do I want a "Beijing"catfish sandwich. "Ukraisian Wings"? Nyet.
That last time I went, they had just a few of the old specialties on the menu. For old times' sake, I ordered my favorite boiled potato pierogi to go. I received an order half the size for twice the price no sweet browned onions, no sour cream. And they were simply terrible. Mama didn't make these. Nobody's mama made these. These came out of a freezer compartment somewhere, filled with barely reconstituted mashed potatoes. As I threw the aluminum plate of sad dumplings in the trash, I could have cried for my own hunger. It was not so much physical, although I was hungry. There was nothing else I could make or eat at that moment, because my hunger was for the pierogi from the old Kiev.
While I was writing this, I looked at the Kiev East's online menu, and at voluntary customer reviews from several online venues. All the reviews have a suspicious similarity of tone. They all seem to be touting the idea that Kiev East is just like or even better than the old Kiev, because now it's swank and you can take your date there. Arrgh. They do, however, seem to have recently restored a number of the old menu items. There are blintzes (although in noxious flavors just like the pierogi), and there's kasha. Perhaps, one day when I'm in the neighborhood, I'll pick up some of that good challah. Maybe I'll even try an order of blintzes for takeout, on the off chance that someone is actually cooking somewhere in back.
In the meantime, if anyone knows where Mama is plying her vast culinary talents, please call, write, or send a telegram. If I can locate her, I'm there.
Rowena, Russian cuisine is in my blood, but I never actually made my own blintzes from scratch. Someday I try, but will they be imbued with the same timeless flavor that my memory bestows upon the ones from the Kiev?
Brian, you got a point. I remember Veselka borscht and stuffed cabbage with great fondness. It just that we all had our favorites in the East Village. For me, the specialties I named above at the Kiev were better there than they were at Veselka or the Odessa or Christine But maybe my allegiance can be swayed especially when there no other choice.
Sarah, this has happened to so many great New York restaurants. The original menu at the celebrated and costly Russian Tea Room was authentically Russian and was without peer in New York. Many of them "took meetings" in the red booths there. The sad day a decade or so ago that I walked by and saw "Angel Hair Pasta" on their menu, I knew the end was nigh. They went through a few more changes of hands, new gimmicks and menus, and then it was all over another of New York great food and meeting institutions bit the dust. That reminds me one of these days I have to tell the story of my mother and Henry Miller at the Russian Tea Room.
I don know why this compulsion exists to remake all the Ukrainian restaurants into silly hipster joints. At least Veselka just expanded and redecorated a bit, but left the menu alone. The new Kiev breaks my heart, but not nearly as much as the cipher that calls itself Leshko across the street from the southwest corner of Tompkins Square Park. I used to live on 4th between A and B and I lost track of how many postclubhopping breakfasts I spent at Leshko I don think they changed their menu prices for about 40 years. Now, of course, you can get food too fabulous for the room; you can get food slathered in wasabi, which is delightful if you going out for Japanese but less lovely if you going out for Ukrainian. It kills me that never again will I be able to sit in a booth with my blearyeyed boyfriend, a plate of boiled potato pierogies with onions and sour cream for me, a plate of apple pancakes for him, coffee for both of us.
Lloyd and I used to live up the street from the Kiev,[url=http://nikefree.mobilejeti.com]nike free[/url], and while we loved it, there were some dishes that were better than others. For me, though, that was the beauty of living in the neighborhood: while you could certainly go onestop shopping for all of your Ukrainian/Polish yummies, you would never have to. Of course, superlatives are all a matter of opinion, but for now I let my opinion rule the day. :) Kiev was where I went when I wanted matzo brei, challah French toast or kasha varnishkas. Veselka was for mushroombarley soup and Ukrainian meatballs (pork + veal, coated in mushroom gravy, mmmmmm). Stage Diner (which hasn changed, thankfully!) was for gulyas. Leshko was for pierogies. Odessa was for pierogies when you wanted the maximum amount of butter, heft and stodge in your pierogies when Leshko substantial as they were, just wouldn cut it. (This did not happen often with me.) B Dairy was for borscht. The restaurant in the Ukrainian National Home was for boiled beef and pickled beets. Papa Bear okay, this one was not in the neighborhood, but it was walkable, on 23rd Street and 2nd Avenue was for chicken in the pot, a dreamboat of a soup containing half a chicken, a whole peeled boiled potato, a carrot and a fistful of dill. If you possibly had room at the end of one of these feasts, you could burn at least a portion of it off by hiking to Moishe where you could buy a giant perfect raspberry hamantaschen, or a chocolate babka for making your own French toast, or a dozen onion bialies or pletzl for a week worth of breakfasts. Oh, I dying, here, thinking of all this.
The bad news is that I have no idea where Mama is now. The good news is that Molly O has a recipe for potato and mushroom pierogi in New York Cookbook, and I have made it dozens of times. It a bit of a fuss, but not a terrible one, and the resultant pierogies are tangy and wonderful.
Leshko Another case in point. Even the toofabulous "new" Leshko didn survive they closed a while ago. The sorrow is that whoever decided to reinvent these restaurants never understood what they had going for them in the first place. I guess this post is on some level a requiem for all these neighborhood joints.
I had more of a relationship with the Kiev than the others I befriended one of the Sergeis at one point, and my friend Nili and I had breakfast there almost every week for years. I don really know why their pierogies rang my chimes, but they were the ones I wanted. My love for a particular dish in a particular place clearly has to do with association. Potato pancakes? Well, the Odessa might not have been the best, but they were my faves because my friend Jane simply had to go there for breakfast when she made her semiyearly trip down from Bangor.
And now, of course, I need to go to Moishe and get a sack of rugelach at the first opportunity. They better still be there.
I just made kasha varnishkes the other night, with a side of buttery caramelbrown onions. My potato pancakes aren bad either, and I sure if I put my mind to it, I could turn out reasonable blintzes. You bring the pierogies, Jen, and I bring the kasha and the rest.
Wow, that shows you how long it been since I been in the old hood, at least that far east. Well, I can say I sorry to see Leshko go. I really try not to have a kneejerk reaction against any kind of change, I really try to give everything the benefit of the doubt, but I thought the Leshko redesign and Kiev too was just pointless. No, not just pointless. Craven, too. Someone got the idea that what the East Village needed was more hip places to eat. And yes, sometimes you do want something a little more fancy, which is when you go to the Tasting Room or Prune or Jewel Bako. And sometimes you want an enormous plate of something cheap, delicious, handcrafted and soulful. Trying to make the Ukrainian restaurants hip backfires on two counts: No one whose heart is set on going to Prune will opt for going to the Kiev instead, and the regular Kiev clientele will be pissed off. (Honest to God, "Ukraisian Wings?" What the hell is that, anyway?)
I will give Kiev credit for one thing, though: on my last trip there, my friend Sharon got a pierogi sampler that included sweet potato and spinach filling. I tried making my own and home and they were really good. So even though theirs weren all that hot, they were inspiring. :)
You will be happy to know that Moishe is still there, and the rugelach, hamantaschen and babka are all still fabulous.
Phew. Okay, I scheduling a trip to Moishe for sometime in the near future. And I have to try to find some reasonable pierogi in the neighborhood as long as I going downtown.
Craven is the word, Jen. Perhaps there is justice in the universe, since these pathetic hybrids don seem to last very long. One can only hope that the owners of the surviving neighborhood Ukrainian/Polish/Eastern European places learn some lesson about leaving well enough alone.
The Blintz Conundrum (I sure you heard of it) has to do with the dearth of actual pot cheese available in these parts. The question remains whether or not farmer cheese will be an adequate substitute. One can only hope, and try. I thinking this time of year it would be nice to side some blintzes with a simple rhubarb compote like the one you recently described on your blog.