Good Things Come in Pink Packages

Stephen and a friend of his are installing our new kitchen floor today, one full year after we bought the materials (yay). In an effort to stay out of their hair I took a stroll in the neighborhood—between the blizzard and all my work, I haven’t taken a walk in a few weeks. Of course I figured I’d spy something new, but I thought it would be something in development—luxury “loft” buildings sprout like mushrooms after a rainstorm here in Williamsburg. I never imagined that I’d find a sweet little bakery filled with fluffy cakes, tart tarts, and cloudlike scones…


(Clockwise from the top: chocolate frosted chocolate cupcake, honey almond tart—Stephen bit into it before I could even snap a picture—chocolate chip cookie, lemon tart, honey corn muffin, rosemary-cheddar-sea-salt scone)

Pocket-sized Cheek’s Bakery is on traffic-heavy Metropolitan Avenue, right next to Siam Orchid, our favorite Thai takeout (already I’m dreaming about convincing the Thai delivery guys to add a cupcake to our next order…). It’s been open just over a week, after a below-radar buildout by husband-and-wife team Melanie and Mark. Melanie’s the baker, with ties stretching back to Magnolia years ago (it seems like all of New York’s bakers worked there at some point, doesn’t it?). She also put in some time at Baked in Red Hook, home of the best spicy brownie in the city, and until very recently was the baker at Marlowe & Sons and Diner, two popular Williamsburg restaurants with joint ownership.

The instant I walked in the door, I knew my prayers had been answered. Williamsburg’s got a lot of great food, but the one thing we’ve lived without (how? how?) is a good, cozy, American bakery. No canoli, no baked-elsewhere-and-carted-in muffins, no fancy French stuff at Manhattan prices. Hope & Union comes close, but somehow there’s just never anything there I’m dying to eat. Peering in the window at Cheek’s, I saw several frosted cakes perched on glass pedestals, including red velvet and German chocolate—be still my heart. Four different kinds of cupcakes—vanilla and chocolate, each frosted with either vanilla or chocolate—lined the bottom of the display case. And these did NOT look like Magnolia wannabes: The frosting looked rich, not fluffy, more ganache-like than whipped. Almond, pear, and lemon tarts beckoned, each homey and hand-made-looking. Jars of oversized cookies lined the exposed brick wall. Towards the back was a case filled with breakfast items—three kinds of scones, three of muffins, and a poppy-lemon cake. Since it wasn’t even 11AM yet, I opted for an apple-ginger scone, still warm from the oven, and continued on my walk.

The scone was lovely, cakey rather than crumbly, and surprisingly light. Not too sweet, studded with little chunks of green-skinned apples, and barely scented with ginger. It was an ideal mid-morning snack. I couldn’t wait to stop back at Cheek’s on my way home, to pick up some treats for the laborers, though I must admit I had a heck of a time choosing which goodies to buy. Hours later, I still wonder whether I should’ve gone for a slice of chocolate pecan pie, or maybe some of that German chocolate cake… No matter. I’ll have plenty of opportunity to taste everything in the store, god help me.

Of the items I did buy, two really stood out. The almond honey tart, which Melanie described to me as an Americanized baklava—slivered almonds suspended in a gooey honey sauce, over a sugary pate sucre crust—was unexpected and rewarding, and it disappeared within the first few minutes of my arrival home (mostly into Stephen’s mouth, I’m pretty sure). And the lemon tart was unlike anything lemony I’ve ever had. Lemon bars are usually too unctuous for me; curd just makes me think of bodily fluids. But Melanie doesn’t use curd in her tart—somehow she takes the same juice, zest, sugar, butter, and eggs that make up any curd recipe and turns them into something purer, lighter, less cloying, more essentially lemony. Throughout the day, whenever Stephen and his buddy left the kitchen to cut a piece of flooring, I’d sneak in and do some cutting of my own, sticky little wedges of citrusy goodness. I’ve saved one last little piece for dessert, assuming I actually have room for dinner… Maybe Siam Orchid.

Cheek’s Bakery is at 378 Metropolitan Avenue, near Havemeyer, in Williamsburg. 718.599.3583.

Continue reading

On Tomato Soups and Blizzards (Sopa de Fideo Aguada)

What is it about blizzards that makes me long to cook the tomato soups of my childhood? Last year around this time, a blizzard inspired me to “cookoon” with Quick Tomato-Rice Soup (plus a yummy frittata). And now here we are, in the Blizzard of 06, and again I’m soothing my soul with familiar flavors long neglected, in the form of a Mexican tomato-noodle soup. Luckily it comes together in under half an hour, so I made a pot for lunch while on a break from my work.

This particular soup is one we had fairly often growing up. My mom was an exchange student in Mexico as a teenager, so she was a pretty avid devotee of Diana Kennedy and her impeccably authentic recipes. We couldn’t get a lot of the ingredients back then so Mom stuck to the more basic dishes, but nonetheless I was pretty sure nobody else in our town was eating these foods. Although its components are almost entirely pantry items, the Sopa de Fideo Aguada (Vermicelli in Tomato Broth) was both comforting and unusual, unlike any other tomato soup I’ve had before or since. There are two techniques that make this soup stand out for me: First, the noodles, little nests of dried pasta, are fried in hot fat (chicken fat by Kennedy’s standards, but I used vegetable oil), which gives them both color and a lightly toasted flavor. And second, the tomatoes are pureed together with garlic and onion, then added to the fried noodles in a sort of pan-roasting action. The end result is a little smoky, a little garlicky, and a whole lotta wonderful.

Sopa de Fideo Aguada (Vermicelli in Tomato Broth)
From Diana Kennedy’s Recipes from the Regional Cooks of Mexico
Serves 6



3-4 T. chicken fat [I used vegetable oil]
4 oz. fideos or vermicelli [You'll find fideos on the Spanish/Latin foods section of the supermarket]
¾ lb. very ripe tomatoes, roughly chopped [I used a large can]
1 large clove garlic, roughly chopped [I used 3 small]
¼ medium onion, roughly chopped [I used 1 small]
3 cups chicken broth
4 cups water
2 sprigs flat leaf parsley
Salt

Heat fat until it smokes and add the bundles of noodles without breaking. Fry until deep golden brown, stirring, then drain excess fat (leave about 2 T.).



Put the tomato, garlic, and onion in a blender or food processor and blend until smooth. Add to the pot and cook over a high flame, stirring and scraping pan, until mixture is almost dry [the bubbling will sound different when you reach this point]. Add the liquid and the parsley and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer, covered, until pasta is soft, 8-10 minutes. Remove parsley, adjust seasoning, and serve.

Continue reading

Pre-Blizzard Spicy Hot Chocolate

They say we’re going to have a blizzard tonight. I’m so deep underground, scrambling to finish my freelance work, that I doubt it will make much difference to me—except that tomorrow I’ll look out the window longingly to a sparkly white snowscape, instead of the gray industrial wasteland/BQE traffic that is my current view.

In the meantime, while Stephen and I gird ourselves for the coming deluge, our apartment is chilly. Heat is infrequent in our tumbledown building—or I should say, it comes on at odd hours. We’ll go to sleep buried under a down comforter and two blankets, with the radiators open wide but ice-cold, only to be blasted awake at 4:30 AM by a sudden symphony of pings, squeals, and hisses. But right now, at 3:15 on a Saturday afternoon, nada. A cup of hot chocolate seemed like just the thing to cozy me up—made the decadent way, with real chocolate melted in milk. As it happens I’ve been trying to drink more milk lately, and since I hate the stuff the only way I can choke it down is mixed with some variety of chocolaty goodness. Killing two birds with one stone, this is, and with the added kick of cinnamon and cayenne it’s a borderline sophisticated way to take a break from my endless amounts of work (cue violins).

Spicy Hot Chocolate
Serves 2

3 oz high-quality dark chocolate, chopped [I used Scharffen Berger 70% Cacao]
2 cups milk [I used 1%]
1 t. cinnamon
¼ t. cayenne pepper
Pinch salt
1-2 t. sugar, optional [this depends on how bitter your chocolate is]

Combine all ingredients in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. Cook, whisking constantly, until it’s hot but not boiling. Serve immediately.

Continue reading

A Mac-&-Cheese-y Apology

Yeah, so I disappeared for a little while. It’s been just over a week since my last post, which isn’t ALL that long, but some of you (bless your hearts) have noticed and written to me, asking if everything’s ok. It is, very OK, but I got slammed with a huge new freelance project about ten days ago and all I’ve been doing is work, work, work. No time for cooking, and honestly the last thing I feel like doing when I finish writing for pay is writing for no pay. I’m exhausted!

So, please accept my apologies for being MIA. It will likely last another week or two, so I must request a little more patience. Soon enough I’ll be finished and back to cooking/baking/musing/complaining…

In the meantime, though, here’s my mom’s recipe for Macaroni & Cheese, straight from a 40-year-old Osterizer recipe book that came with my mom’s blender. It’s what Stephen and I served at our first dinner party a few weeks ago, which I swore I’d blog about but I’m now realizing just ain’t gonna happen. It’s the Mac & Cheese I grew up on—and if you’ve been paying attention, you know that I am not a cheese-fan. In fact, I pretty much hate the stuff. Plus Stephen’s got cholesterol troubles, so this isn’t something I make every week. But something about this recipe really appeals to me—the ratio of cheese to elbows is exactly right, and you can’t beat that butter-studded bread crumb topping… And the fact that the sauce is made in the blender means it’s about the easiest thing going—perfect for a casual dinner party. It was a huge hit (thanks, Mom!). People actually ate THIRDS.

Anyway, I must rush off to do some work now. More soon, I hope…



Best Mac & Cheese Ever
From the Osterizer recipe booklet, courtesy of my mom
Serves 4

2 T soft butter or margarine, plus more for topping
2 T flour
½ t salt
1/8 t pepper
½ t mustard powder (optional, this gives it a little bite)
2 cups hot milk (take it off the heat just before it boils)
1 ½ cups diced cheddar cheese
12 oz elbow macaroni, cooked al dente
½ cup fresh bread crumbs

Preheat oven to 350. Spray a 2-quart baking dish with cooking spray and set aside.

Put butter or marg, flour, salt, pepper, and hot milk into blender container. Press low button, then high for 40 seconds. After 20 seconds, gradually add cheese. Mix with macaroni, and empty all into the prepared baking dish. Sprinkle with bread crumbs and dot with additional butter or margarine. Bake for 30 minutes, until bread crumbs are nicely browned and cheese sauce is bubbling.

Continue reading