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!

Sunset

On the last few episodes of Shahs of Sunset, the gang heads out to Turkey, where they have been invited by Asa, the Persian Pop Priestess as she adorably calls herself, on a family reunion, which she has planned for her mother who also lives in the US. Her extended family lives in Iran, and travels to Turkey to spend time in a deluxe condo that the show has rented out for them to have family time in. It's quite an interesting couple of episodes, and what I found particularly touching was the degree to which Asa, MJ and GiGi find peace and beauty in front of the Blue Mosque. Wow, I mean wow. These are totally secular, with the exception of Asa who is spiritual, American Iranians who find very little meaning in the word Islam, let alone the identity, yet they can not help but surrender to the beauty of the Blue Mosque and the sound of the call to prayer, reaching within them for supplication from their wordly persons. Asa sits proud and beautiful on the benches provided, and MJ and GiGi sit like two lost children being called home by a knowing and loving father. And while these girls have done nothing to sit shamefacedly before a seat of the almighty, there is still a lesson to be learned. That not only must we take time to smell the roses in this sweet life we are bestowed as human beings, but that we must also take pause, and appreciate the wild rose for its beauty, be grateful for its place in this magnificent world we are so lucky to be such a regal part of.
I have heard the Azon called out in the Middle East, and I, as a Jew, am truly moved by its soulful call, reminding me to take time, and pray. It is beautiful, and while I would rather sit in front of the Kotel, and feel the warm yet austere holiness that is Jewish prayer, togetherness, and appreciation for history, there is something we lack in supplication that the Azon attests to, something I am missing , which I wish we had too. It reminds me of Yom Kippur in my synagogue many years ago, watching a member of my community get down on the floor and pray like a yogi doing child's pose. I was so moved, I will never forget it. That is the same feeling I am talking about in the muezzin's call, but it is only on Yom Kippur, the day of atonement, that we have such sentiment ebbing and flowing in our hearts as we seek to be forgiven for our sins. And MJ and GiGi, on some semi-conscious level, sat themselves down, and took in a heavy dose of it as they cried for Allah's love. There was, of course, a feeling of connectedness to their Western Asian identity that had also moved them, which is definitely more selfish in nature, and something they sorely lack living in the US, but that only buttresses my argument into a new dimension of connectedness to the contextual self, the rose that lives inside of you, and allowing it to blossom in the most intricate of ways toward the design of its existence, with a pure heart, and eager mind, willing to be loved and taught, and yes, accepted. I am not a practicing Jew, but yet, I revel in the cultural springs of my heritage whenever I can/want to, be it through artful creation, philosophical contemplation, or in the simplest quotidian foods, stories and songs that make my life sweeter. That is the sweetest part of religion; the lifestyle that has been built around its beliefs, and the traditions that keep them in place, and when these girls sat down, they got a whip-plash reminder of what they are missing in LA, and it was a beautiful thing to observe.