Guanciale

I am on a hunt. A hunt for cured pig jowl, aka, guanciale. I want to attempt to make a Amatriciana sauce and don't want to substitute the guanciale for bacon as this recipe suggests I do. It all started when I went out to lunch with some work colleagues and ended up at Danny Meyer's new place, Maialino. It was fantastic (the whole dining experience). That is where I had the Bucatini all'Amatriciana and it was love at first bite. Again, I stuck with the whole trying something new thing, and figured, you can't go wrong with trying something new at an establishment owned by Mr. Meyer (I had venison for the first time at Union Square Cafe and was over the moon for it). I was nervous, ordering anything that had pig jowl in it. I just didn't know what to expect. But it was a nice, light, flavor. Salty with a surprising, smoky crunch, which was very pleasant with the tomato sauce. I just loved it. I was stuffed and my only wish was that the portion was larger!

It's a frustrating thing, living on Long Island, and not even knowing where to begin to look for this guanciale. Anyone out there know where I might be able to find it? I guess I'll have to hit up a real Italian butcher in NYC and see what they might have. Until then, my mouth will continue to water!

Menus

I always get a bit nervous when trying out a new restaurant; what if I can't find anything I like?

I recall several years ago going out with a group of friends to The River Cafe in Brooklyn in celebration of our friends recent engagement. They were my boyfriend's friends (said boyfriend is now said husband, and said friends are now dear friends of mine) all a few years older than me and all advanced eaters in my book. I remember checking out the menu days in advance trying to figure out what in the world I would order without sounding like a young and inexperienced eater. To the best of my recollection, it was devoid of "beef" or "chicken". As panic set in I had no clue what to order!!

I sat down at the table, hoping that one (just one) of the specials for the evening would include beef or poultry but I was out of luck. I believe I settled on a salad to start and for my entree, some sort of rabbit dish. A dish that I wasn't overly thrilled with but managed to eat anyway, trying my best not to draw attention to the fact that all I was wishing for was a plump, juicy, chicken breast whatever or a Filet Mignon, cooked to a medium rare perfection. For the record, there is now chicken breast, achem, organic chicken breast, on the menu. I felt like a child trying to hide my vegetables except that I had to swallow it! Knowing what I know now, boy, do I look back on that meal with regret. I wish I would've had the guts to enjoy the meal more and kept an open mind. I only hope that I have the chance to go back and redeem myself one day soon!

Over the weekend, said boyfriend (now husband) and I met up with some friends who were in town and decided to try a new restaurant out in Babylon on Long Island called Barrique Kitchen and Wine Bar. This place was jumping - we arrived at seven and had to wait over an hour for a table (no, they don't take reservations!). It was EXTREMELY refreshing to find a restaurant that offered more than the usual selection of Pinot Grigio, Chardonnay, Merlot and Cabernet Sauvigion. I've been finding this at most LI restaurants that we've tried and, sadly, the wine selections are very limited. My husband and I used to live over a wine shop (4th floor walk-up) and we've become a bit snobby, so to speak. Not that we're connoisseurs but we do know more than "the standards".

Barrique has a wonderful selection of wines. I opted for a Viognier and he chose a lovely Pinot Noir from Lodi. The menu (read: food) was just as varied. I could have ordered the chicken or the sliced steak but before sitting down I told myself "NO!" and asked myself "What would Tony do?". He would try something new! He would order something out of the ordinary! And that's just what I did!

We ordered as a table: baby lamb chops(which came out way undercooked for me), sliced steak, veal meatballs, ravioli, eggplant something-or-other, crab cakes, a cheese plate and my dish, prosciutto-wrapped pork loin and wilted spinach with a mustard sauce. I NEVER order pork (the non-bacon kind, of course) and you know what - it was actually very good! Nice and juicy, tender, savory and perfectly cooked. The only thing wrong with the dish was that the spinach was a little cold. I detest cold hot food. The crab cake was my other fave. It had some really nice heat to it (I think there were jalapenos in there) with a great crunch.

Given the good service and great atmosphere, I'll be sure to order the baby octopus and the braised short ribs the next time - because there will be a next time! I might even try a fish dish and I never order fish! N.E.V.E.R. For me, it's all about baby steps and some hand holding. That's where Tony comes in. So, thanks Tony, this weekend was a step in the right direction. Check out a write up of Barrique Kitchen and Wine Bar in the New York Times from this past weekend HERE.

And So It Begins...

Let me start off by saying a few things: 1) I'm not a writer, 2) this is not an Anthony Bourdain fan site (although I have read his books and I watch his show religiously), and 3) above all, I love food.

This is my journey to becoming a so-called "foodie." My mother was (and still is) a wonderful cook. Growing up, she always spent hours preparing the classic family favorites - Pot Roast with noodles, Beef Stroganoff, Chicken Parmesan, Spaghetti and Meatballs, etc. All wonderful and all made with a lot of love.

That being said these dishes defined and subsequently pigeonholed my taste buds. I was forever a picky eater and wasn't willing to try new things growing up. I don't like fish, my nose would wrinkle at the sound of "pork chop," lamb was OUT of the question, veal - no way, sushi - forget it, Indian food - gross (you get the idea). Coincidentally, all things that my mom didn't cook and to this day doesn't eat. My father on the other hand, eats most things or at least will try anything once (even more so if my husband says "It's good. Try it."). My younger sister was eating (and loving) escargot at the age of 3 but DEFINITELY not me; they reminded me too much of the slugs in our backyard - even if they were drowning in buttery goodness.

A perfect example on my limited desire to try anything new. While in college, I had gone to visit a dear friend at school up in Boston. She, having always been someone who loves food, took us to a Thai restaurant that she was totally in to. Needless to say, my palate and I were very nervous about going because we were afraid that I wouldn't be able to find anything that I'd like on the menu. I wasn't familiar with Thai food, only my family's local, "2-from-A, 2-from-B, 1-from-C" Chinese restaurant. I actually asked our server what the closest thing on the menu was to "Chicken and Broccoli in Brown Sauce". I'll never forget the looks of disbelief by all parties at the table - including our server! My friend was mortified and to this day still brings up this memorable dining experience. I don't remember what I ate that night but I'm willing to bet that it was a chicken dish in some sort of brown sauce.

That is but one of many examples of my limited exposure to the world's culinary delights. I have gotten better (many thanks to my husband), but I'm not where I want to be.

This is where Anthony Bourdain comes in. As I mentioned previously, I've been a big fan of his for a while now, having read all of his books and watched every episode of "No Reservations", I really admire his ability to adapt his palate to all of the various countries he visits. He never says "No, I won't try that." The man had his first oyster at the age of nine while vacationing in France! He just dove right in. I'm not saying that I'm going to eat raw seal or snake or insects any time soon but I'd love to be able to get through a box of sushi, eat more oysters than my husband, consume and enjoy some form of non-bacon pork, or be able to drink something other than Bud Light and white wine - but that's a post for a later date.

So, going forward, I will ask myself "What would Anthony Bourdain do?" every time I cringe at the thought of eating something new - or cooking something new for that matter - and just dive right in. Hopefully this will help me on my journey to become a better eater, and an even bigger lover of food.