Shabbat Shalom from Israel

This was my Shabbat lunch. Good Shabbos! Cucumbers and mango splashed with fresh passion fruit, a nice little bunch of cilantro, challah, and some of my homemade goat yogurt drink, known properly as doogh (there is no ghayn in English, ask a Persian, and they will pronounce it for you). It was delicious, and so traditionally beautiful, I had to share it with you. Life is good sometimes :)


I could have said Kiddush on this doogh.


It was filled to the top like it is supposed to be to symbolize that our cup in life should always be full. Now that's what I call a blessing! Something to really be grateful for as we sit down to break bread, and partake of rest and relaxation with our loved ones for shabbat. Good karma, positive intention, it all goes forward, and in that spirit, should always be pluralistic. Amen!

Goodbye USA

A pictorial essay, enjoy :)

Oats, organic cacao, hemp and goji berries

Me and my uncle's littlins'

NY, 33rd St at 7th Ave, right outside Penn Station

Japanese goodies, constantly growing to new horizons; I love.

A boutique hotel in Midtown

Mustard Greens I miss

My and my sister. No words.

The artwork of Ron Jones that I added to. I must email him this. Ive been talking about it for years already.

A t-shirt from Madewell. Thank you American business for treating me like a little princess. I hope to perpetually rise to the calling of all that is splendid, beautiful, and worthy of hard earned currency.

Welcome Home

I wonder if this guy is lit up at night.


Can you see him? Silvery white aluminum against the sky blue?

I have arrived. On my second day here in Israel, walking back from the shuk, I saw a Menorah on the road, and it moved me, so I took a picture of it. What is it? What is it doing there? Who knows. Positioned to the passersby between the billboard and the parched palm tree, its starkness is part of its beauty. A desert rose; a diamond in the rough; the heart of the country set against its quotidian landscape. This is the road in Ramla that leads into town where there is a shuk that I bought my produce at yesterday. It was such a pleasant, beautiful, sight. Both inspiring and deeply touching. It reaches out to my weary soul and puts a twinkle in my eye with its awesome gravity lit by the love of my people (or just the people that put it there:). Eretz Yisrael. I am home!

My Big Fat Delicious Breakfast

Yes, it was. And remarkably, by being such a harmonious blend of protein, vegetables, fats, and starches, it left me feeling full, yet, with the clean finish that can only be achieved by such a perfectly harmonious blend. It was delicious, and without further ado, let me show you the why, and the how.

The full spread, minus the faux chopped liver on the side which I wasn't sure if I was going to eat, but I did.

Cabbage smothered in Ras El Hanout (a Moroccan curry with specific North African character), cooked in coconut oil, with sweet peas, topped with chopped red scallions. Majorly delish, and below, you can observe these beautiful scallions that I had to capture before I chopped them up.

Aren't they so pretty?

My garlic bread. It is a pita actually, that I did not use as effectively as I could have with a meal like this. Even with the stuff on top, it is very easy to place some of the various items in this plate, inside the pita, and enjoy the flavor combinations and sensations. I only used the chopped liver. I was lazy.

Mom's chicken. Enough said.

Dipped in high fat, pure cream, sour cream. Once again, there are no words to describe how good this is.

Radishes sliced in quarters. My take on the traditional radish, served whole, alongside Persian food.

Castelverano olives. I like them because they are green, with a lot more original olive flavor, and less salty, briny finish. I am also partial to half-sour pickles for precisely that same reason. I will forego the additional probiotic boon, and yes, the delicious quality zing of a fine ferment, to save myself from all the added salt. Most of the time, I just want to taste the fruit.

Faux chopped liver! This is really good, and apparently made mostly from roasted eggplant. It is amazing how much flavor can be rendered from roasting an eggplant to perfection.

So that was my breakfast, dear reader. I wanted to share my delights with you. I don't usually have meats for breakfast, as they are heavy, but a small amount goes a long way, especially when served with all these wondrous goodies. I was in heaven.

Amen

A stream of consciousness poem, would you care to glide?

Riding my bike home from grocery shopping
My bones aching from lack of sleep
My body eager for the fresh watercress and other goodies
Yes
Goodies worth fighting for in this jungle which is my life
I ride my bike to Rt 10
And stop
As pretty as can be
At every store that conveys goodies for my dollar
Ricky's India Bazaar for my tindora and frozen baby okra
Next is Kam Man
Where I purchase any number of delectable East Asian goodies
from Thai Basil (amazing)
To my long loved Kabocha squash whose pretty orange hue keeps me content
The produce section is lined with infinite varieties of choy
But I foolishly stick to my herbs
Angel,
Will you go shopping with me
And teach me the joys of Shanghai choy, again?
Perhaps I will do it on my own
As no angels are expected anytime soon in my life
I make my way to Bed, Bath & Beyond where the exciting new marketplace keeps me well within a broad range of well priced, yet almost entirely artisanal foods
I buy my pear and ginger 8 oz Kombucha
And move on as my dollar needs to stretch a bit further
Next is Prime Foods
A Russian grocery with every kind of delicious, artisanal confection that you could ask for
I simply purchase my favorite sour cream
Pasteurized cream, and cultures
That's it
And flirt with the cashier who pretends not to be the bosses son
Next, I am off to the farmer's market
Not a real farmstand
But the vernacular for a dazzling little assortment of utterly fresh produce
And some that has seen better days
But a wide, and impressive range of all the produce you could ask for
And some special things you didn't
But are so pleased to see
I buy my fresh cilantro, and watercress
Am dazzled by the inexpensive berries that are not from California
And grab a few plantains
To make a very hearty breakfast with
Then I am off
I say goodbye to Rt 10 as I glide down the incline toward Livingston proper
I like to look at the bus stop riding down
The waiting passengers surly demeanor is always an added thrill when you are going 30 miles an hour with the wind in free air
Finally, I reach the bottom of the hill
And am faced with a crossroads
Do I climb the 45 degree angle and head straight home
Or do I go down Northfield
And head into town for the fancy items at Kings and ShopRite?
Today
Despite my achey bones
I am feeling saucy
So I opt for option number 2
And it made all the difference
No
Seriously
I make my way up the long, slightly inclined road
And make my usual pit stop at Crystal Plaza
Where I often sit
Take a swig of water
Eat some fruit
Have a light snack
Or otherwise rejuvenate myself from the long
Long
Bike Ride
This time
I took my bike into the inner parking lot for some odd reason
Where a lovely gang of valet parkers looks on inquisitively
"Do you want us to park that for you?"
I smile
And as I ride my bike around them
Not wishing to dismount from the heavy basket
And weighty frame
I explain my trek
"One time, I even went to the garden in the back, but people were approaching, so I left."
Another smile which is returned by their grinning obligance
A pretty young thing
They think
Riding around as best she can towards her goals
Yet
With a wistful air of her precarious pose on their private property
Just a pretty young thing
Looking for a place to rest for a few precious moments
They wouldn't have kicked her out, right?
I move on
Off their driveway
Smiling like a fool
And back on the road
Towards my fancy feast
With a large blue Whole Foods freezer bag brimming
I look for the coup de gras
The cherries on top
To complete my delicious outing
I arrive at the ShopRite
A little white sedan tries to kill me as we both like using the road
Somehow they think they own it
They are wrong
And I prove it to them
Every chance I get
Anyways
I enter the ShopRite
I get my Stonyfield butter
Snapple, move over, this is the best stuff on Earth
And I have forgotten my 88% percent cacao chocolate bar for my daily tea
But I will get that today
As the exercise is good for me
And the bike is ready
My last stop is Kings
Where I get my goats milk
And somebody has politely left a small bag of cherries that I also purchase
Cherries on top
Fruit all around
Life is good in this moment
And we are all of us
Happy to be alive
In a country
Where we can all live so well
May it only grow and grow towards greater horizons
Of prosperity and happiness
Amen

If I forget thee, NYTimes, may my right hand wither

Oh, dear reader, so much to say, but how to say it. Well, I'm just going to yank the cat out of the bag. I am moving to Israel. Yes, Israel. The home of my ancestors, and a very special place to renew the bond to that particular piece of land that this world weary Jew is eager to find some solace in. Reading the NYTimes this weekend at my sister's house, where I went to incomprehensibly say goodbye to her three young children (the elder two sadly, and reticently understood, the littlest one didn't), I found myself saying goodbye to something else I love in the most intimate of ways. As per my usual routine these days, I languish about the paper, molesting the photographs and reading whatever strikes my fancy with an almost childlike sense of wonder. I adore it, and am already living in its rapturous nostalgia. Ay me.

As I lay in bed Saturday night, after the Sabbath and thoughtful as can be, it dawned on me how I can revel in my nostalgia in a thoroughly rich way. I am going to save up my papers from here on in, and wrap my tea cups and other delicate collectibles in them. I can think of nothing more satisfying than to be able to cloak these objects in this great, daily American newspaper that imbues our existences with noble sentiments that propel important journalism. Articles about the importance of women's education in crafting a smaller, more sophisticated populace could be wrapped around my Royal Albert Blossom Time tea cup, evoking the splendor of such undertaking in societies where women can hold those tea cups, filled with the beverage of their choice, and converse with each other freely about life while the children play elsewhere in the house. Their gentle voices fill the air with a sweet music that assures and excites the children about the beautiful lives their mother's lead, and how they want to grow up to be just like them. Perhaps there is a great newspaper, like the NYTimes or the Wall Street Journal, lying around with its beautiful words filling the air, and lifting the level of the room even higher towards bright horizons.

When my tea cups arrive in Israel, wrapped in the NYTimes Weekender, I am eager to have that little piece of American beauty arrive with my tea cups, however ephemerally, to imbue that moment with the same noble air I receive every time I read this paper, and it educates me about important matters that transport me to greater planes of learning and growing as a person. And how appropriate, really, that this fine vessel should be adorned as such. You might think it a waste (even though I will be salvaging whatever I can), but I think it the most suitable pairing of a fine item and a simple one (although, which is which?). So suitable in fact, that it forms an inverse relation of reflection of one another's value. One must value the newspaper the same way one does the tea cup; the tea cup is made finer by its relation to a person who appreciates the value of a good drink that goes along, or better yet, enables a good read. It's intrinsic value is tied to its bearer. So to, the newspaper is just a good read, but if you cherish it the same way I do, dine on it in a manner of speaking, then it can light up your life in the most brilliant of ways, and acts as a beacon of truth and beauty, every time you bring it home and place it on your kitchen table, and create an opportunity to have others kiss your mind. I don't know how fruitful my philosophical exercise just was, but it was meaningful to me, the same way the NYTimes is, and I am so happy that I can so richly take a favorite piece of my old home, to my new one. Yay.

Bella Vita

Or, in other words, the good life. This is what my lunch was today; an artful and harmonious plate that I arranged for me and my lovely mother. A lovely little feast for the senses, with balance and beauty (albeit lacking in substantial protein). It was delicious, and highly nutritious :)

The table, set.


Sour Cream with scallions, salt, and a bit of black pepper.



A whole mango, sliced.



The most amazing chips ever. They are flamous.





And of course, the greens are Cilantro. I will miss tortilla chips when I move to Israel next month, but I can only imagine the terrific array of exciting Middle Eastern foods which will stand in stead of American bounty.

Pure....

.....lusciousness. The Wall Street Journal had a fabulous recipe for French-style eggs baked in cream, sprinkled with Provencal herbs. I tried it, and it was good, but what was truly exceptional was the textural complementarity. The egg whites especially, coated in cream, was one of the most heavenly things I have ever experienced. I was literally floating on a cloud for a good hour.
One of the perks that you have in living at home with the folks, if you can call it a perk, is that you are overcrowded with your stuff in your room. As a chef, this has served as an inspiration for me, as I recently found an old bottle of almond extract that was still good. I woke up a few days after my luscious experience, with those textures still tickling my tongue, and as I observed that little bottle, newly placed on my bookshelf, I decided that it would be the way to take this recipe to the next level. Honey would be the obvious pairing to complement the almond and accentuate the richness, but I opted for an old Persian recipe my grandpa loved that my mom still makes; dates sautéed in butter, pan fried with eggs. I simply added the almond extract and cream to the mixture, and the end result was even better than I could possibly imagine. Dates are rich too, on top of being perfectly sweet for this recipe, and their consistency being like a natural, solid sap might make them even better than honey, albeit less spreadable. So, here she is, breakfast of beauty.
The final product

The final product tousled to reveal its parts

Toast and strawberries


To make:
Get the smallest frying pan you can find that will fit two eggs, because you want your eggs to be cooked in the cream, and you don't want your cream to be spread out and burnt. You will also need:
butter
one date (I split it in two, and chop it finely, akin to thick julienne sticks; my mother tears it up coarsely into 4 or 5 pieces, and likes to eat them like that on her pita)
(natural) almond extract
heavy cream
two eggs

1. Place one pat of butter, roughly 1 1/2 teaspoons in frying pan at low heat. Before your butter is completely melted, add your date to the sauté so that the date can swim in the butter as they both cook up, but you do not want any browning as it will taint the delicate rich flavor, making it roasty which is not what I want with this ethereal dish. Let sauté for a minute or two.
2. Once the mixture is slightly fragrant, add the almond extract, and let cook for another minute or two. About one teaspoon.
3. Add your cream, enough to cover the frying pan, and sit about 1/8th of an inch deep (which is incidentally the exact width a julienne must be in order to be characterized as julienne). You can put more if you like.
4. Crack and add your eggs right after the cream. Set the heat to medium low ad cover until desired level of cookedness is achieved on your eggs, about 3-5 minutes. I always eat organic, and like them as raw as possible, yet with the entire albumen (egg white) cooked. I do not enjoy a translucent plasma, no matter how good it may be for me.
5. Serve and enjoy!

One final note on purity. In such an animal-fat rich meal, I can not stress enough the importance of organic, AND free range ingredients, as to avoid the generally dirty, and specifically inflammatory fats that are abundant in grain fed cows. The difference is night and day, and while this breakfast is very high in fat, they are good fats if the cow is fed a diet of grass which contains omega-3's (that the cows receive directly), and produces CLA fats in the cows, some of the purest, and most health supportive fats the body needs for healthy organ/tissue maintenance and growth. I am proud to use Stonyfield products; it's an amazing little company, and their products make my day time and time again.

I strongly recommend checking them out. They make me feel proud of being American, reminding me of the pioneer spirit that lays as the backbone of our great country, however crookedly she may sit at times, it is still there, waiting for the day when she may once again be erected, tall, and proud, unwavering, for all to share in her glorious bounty. America, the beautiful.

Saladeh Lizaye

Actually, this is Shirazi salad, known by most people as Israeli salad, but I am calling it Saladeh Lizaye, because I am always changing it according to what ingredients I have. But I must qualify, the original salad, named for the town in Iran my parents were born in, Shiraz, is equal parts cucumber, tomato, and onion, one minced clove of garlic for flavor, sometimes chopped mint or parsley, and always a generous squeeze of lemon juice to coat it all in one final vibrant splash (and of course salt and pepper to taste). I, however, have my own designs on a more idealized version of this wonderful chopped salad. First of all, I do away with the tomatoes entirely, because the alkaloids that lurk under the skin of every member of the nightshade family (tomatoes, pepper, potatoes, and eggplant to name the heavy hitters) are pretty aggressive anti-nutrients, which should not be eaten raw with regularity, because of the damage they can do to your bones and joints. Sometimes I substitute tomatillos, as I have done here, because they do not have the same aggressive alkaloids that tomatoes do. I love Middle Eastern cucumbers, and they really go best with this salad, but I find only seedless versions during the wintertime, plus I really love my tindora for precisely this reason. The little Indian gourd is packed with seeds, which are the most exceptionally nutritious part of the fruit. They do have a different texture than Middle Eastern cucumbers, and it is that distinctive cucumber flavor and juiciness that they lack that goes so well with this salad. Finally, here I have chopped up two radishes, a red cipolllini onion (essentially, a mini version of the sweet onion), two scallions, the garlic and lemon juice, and a hand full of cilantro. So, this is my (fruit) salad for today. I just bought three golden mangos, so maybe I will add that to it in the coming days. My mom adds avocado. The sky is the limit as to what you can coat with lemon juice, and delight in your fruit and vegetables coming alive, dancing their vibrance on your tongue, and singing to your taste buds raucous applause!

New Brunswick

Recently, I made a little trek down to my old alma mater, Rutgers University, to visit a friend who works nearby in East Brunswick. I made a point to come in an hour or so before I was expected so that I could visit the new bookstore I have been eyeing from the train as I pass my old stomping grounds wistfully to go further southward.


So, wow. This book store is three floors, boasting an impressive array of offerings for the university student. The ground floor is textbooks, the top floor is general books with an excellent selection, and the middle floor is like a mini student center, with Rutgers apparel, student needs, delicious odds and ends, and a very nice café/convenience store I wish they had when I was back there, and plenty of tables and study spaces all throughout the top two floors. I, however, made a beeline for the textbooks on the ground floor. Every time I go back there, I eagerly look forward to seeing all the wonderful books that distinguished professors assign to their students for the course. It's as close to taking a course as you can get without auditing the course. But seeing as how it is nearing the end of the semester, there were hardly any books on the shelves, yet I came away with a great environmental sciences book titled simply, "Plastic" (the shelves were all closed off, they usually are after the first month of the semester, but I just asked the attendant to let me browse for a few moments, and I flashed some scarlet pride). I had more time to kill, so I went upstairs and was astounded by the selection in the general books area. I got two other books up there, one fiction, and a university press book, which are always pricey, but reflect a great deal of scholarship on behalf of a distinguished professor and his/her passions. I paid for my items, and made my way out the store, eager to soak some more Rutgers/Brunswick in, before I left. The location of the store is also amazing. Besides for the brilliant or serendipitous juxtaposition with old Queens, which serves as a crowning glory, it sits directly at the base of the end of College Avenue, the short, main street that runs through the Rutgers College campus (there are four other campuses spanning a total of three towns that this tremendous university occupies). The buses that connect the Rutgers College campus to the other campuses run down College Ave, so that clock in front of the building is telling you more than the time, it tells you what type of student you are ;)
I had half an hour, and some fruit to eat, so I decided to go to the old Queens Campus (the original name of the school was Queens College) and sit on a bench. It was too cold to eat my fruit, so I decided to file my nails, but of course, I was so moved by the architecture, as I had never really spent any time there as a student (these old building are mostly administrative buildings now), that I decided to make this little photo journal for us, dear reader, instead. Without further ado, I give you, old Queens:

Winants Hall

You can see the updates on this central building which still housed a class or two in my day, ten years ago

The Geological Sciences Building

I didn't catch this young man's name, as I was too focused on catching her scarlet glory, however half mast, with the year of her founding, 1766, showing clearly in the wind

Kirkpatrick Chapel

And yes, I went inside

And yes, the new windows are antiques too

And there was also these two guys on the main campus, where the bulk of the courses are taught on College Ave, that I had to capture. The tudor is a writing center I believe, but I am not sure about the gothic beauty. I never had a course there.


A shot of the Art Library, which sits at the end of a long row of old and distinguished buildings that I have very fond memories of. I love Rutgers.

I leave you, dear reader, with a shot of the train trellis which will take you to this great research university known simply as Rutgers. It is just after the Raritan river, which I strongly suggest you take note of, out of the right side of the train just as you approach. Its serene majesty welcomes you nicely into this historic beauty of a university.

Vive l'universite!