tommy:eats

Corrado's market: Wayne, NJ

Civitavecchia, not Wayne

When I first heard that Clifton's Corrado's was opening another store in Wayne, and the excitment generated by this prospect, I was nonplussed.  Corrado's in Clifton has never really impressed me.  It's always seems crowded, and not in an exciting and enegertic open air market in Civitavecchia I can grab a beer at the market bar to take a break way, but rather in that get-me-the-eff-out-of-here way.  I suppose the prices on the produce are good, but the savings aren't worth my time, digging through the less-than-fresh-looking stuff.  It is what it is, but I've not found much reason to go. 

However, it's a new day, and there's a new Corrado's in Wayne, and on my first visit all I could say was "WOW!"

Firstly, the place is spacious and a pleasure to move around in.  It's bright.  It's clean.  There were an adequate number of checkout lanes.  And it has everything.  In fact, I made it a point to make a mental note to myself:  "Note to myself:  this place has everything.  If you ever need something, and don't know where to get it, it's here.  At Corrado's.  Dried chiles.  Pork skin.  Pork belly.  Dry-aged beef.  Prime beef.  Olives.  Cheeses.  Sausage casings.  Chipotle in adobo.  Fresh mozzarella.  Mozzarella curd.  Pork butt.  Italian bread.  Chicken feet.  Ox tail.  French bread.  Desserts.  Sandwiches." 

The list goes on.  The place could very well have the most comprehensive inventory of interesting and hard-to-find foodstuffs in all of north Jersey.

Want a huge chunk of provolone for 55 bucks?  Here is is.

Need pork belly?  They've got lots of it.  Although the skin still had whiskers.

The dry-aged beef is supposedly USDA Prime.  At about 20 bucks a pound, it's a good value, and certainly in line with Franklin Lakes' Market Basket's pricing (an obvious competitor).

The non-dry aged beef (about 14/lb IIRC) looked excellent, and had nicer marbling than the dry aged stuff I got.    

And most notably, the produce looked really fresh and in good shape.

As an aside, I realized that if you're serving steak and potato and greens, and you're pre-slicing the steak, it's easy to just serve everything on the board, instead of dirtying more plates.  

As another aside, I did a side-by-side taste test of Corrado's San Marzano DOP tomatoes and Cento organic, and the Cento was the clear winner.  I have a feeling both would lose if up agaist Muir Glen, which I feel are some of the best canned tomatoes out there.  A reminder to taste your ingredients!!!

Corrado's Market : 201 Berdan Ave : Wayne, NJ 

Green chile: cheeseburgers

Once again I found myself emailing iamnotachef about food instead of posting on this blog about food.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not under the impression that there's a collective minion out there who are hanging on my every word, but every now and again I feel the tinge of responsibility to actually keep this blog going, rather than just shutting it down completely or let it sit out there dormant.  For today, my choice is to keep it going with another post.

I emailed iamnotachef a few mornings back telling him that I've been really into making green chile stuffs, which are way better than ketchup.  About 10 minutes later, he's got this post about how mustard is the "new ketchup".  OK, well, first off, he shamelessly stole my idea.  Second, he's wrong:  green chile stuff is the new ketchup.

Red and green chile sauce: beef and shrimp, a la Rosa Mexicano

I was exchanging emails with iamnotachef yesterday, as we sometimes do, discussing bourbon and absinthe and the state of New Jersey dining -- you know, things that two people who are complete strangers would talk about over email -- when it occurred to me that instead of telling him what I'm making for dinner, I should probably blog about it.  He concurred, but said that I should only blog about it if it's very good, or very bad.  I tend to agree, but the other reason I sometimes blog about the things I cook is so that I can remember what I did. I'm horrible at keeping notes for repeat performances, so this blog sometimes doubles as a dumping ground for those semi-successful meals that were thrown together.  Trust me, this blog thing and those dinner posts aren't about trying to impress people.  Of this you are assured.

The discussion started with a mention of the opening of Rosa Mexicano in Hackensack's Riverside Square mall.  What I said to the fella was this:

Tomatoes: what you've been missing

So, by now you're probably avoiding jalapeno peppers due to the recent scare.  And for most of the summer, you've been avoiding tomatoes because of doodie contamination. 

I've been avoiding them too.  Then again, I always avoid tomatoes, because they are pretty crappy 99% of the time, not just when they're, well, crappy.

Here are some snaps of some of what you've been denying yourself:

Fairway in Paramus: Coming, soon?

I don't usually do much "reporting" on this blog.  Reporting is dry, boring, fact-based verse.  I don't deal in facts.  Additionally, reporting is a job for trained and professional reporters and newspaper people, and that's sure not me.  Conversely, being interesting and entertaining is my job.  And before you say anything, I don't get paid for that job, so if I'm sleeping on the job, not very good at the job, or just plain not showing up to work, well, too bad.

At any rate, a lot of people are excited about NYC's Fairway Market coming to Paramus (unrelated to Fort Lee's Fairway, which is a fine store in its own right, and has served the community well for longer than most people have been a part of the community).  And of course they're excited:  NYC's Fairway is a pretty darned good store, and, our Paramus version sure has been a looooong time in the coming. 

t:e visitor Jmags sent me this picture, which he claims shows the progress of the construction of Fairway (I sure hope he's right, because we don't need another stinkin' Linens -n- Things), and that got me thinking that I should probably look into this.   I figured I'd do some reporting on this story.

Here's the report:

How to fill a cooler

I don't want to offend anyone, but from my experience I'd say that 50% of people don't know how to fill a cooler.   A cooler, as in the big blue plastic things that hold beer and bottles of water and whatnot.  A few points: 

New Jersey Farmers' Markets: it's almost time

Repost:

It's that time of the year. 

To find a farmers' market near you, let the government help you:  click.

For heirloom tomato transplants, hook up with Catalpa Ridge Farm.  They're always at the Ramsey market the Saturday after Mother's day.  We had excellent luck with their transplants last year.  Once you grow and eat your own heirloom tomatoes, you'll never eat a supermarket tomato again.  Come to think of it you shouldn't have been eating them in the first place.

Food Basics: good stuff, good deals, Manager's Specials

I'm finding myself shopping at Food Basics more and more.  Food Basics is sort of a budget store, owned by the nice folks at the Great Atlantic and Pacific Tea Company (who own A&P, and others) that seems to cater to a lower-income audience than does say a Whole Foods or Stop & Shop.  You'll also often find Food Basics in ethnically diverse neighbors.  When a store caters to an ethinically diverse community, you're not only going to find great values, but you're going to find great products that you won't normally find:

Pigs feet?  Check.  Ox tail?  Check.  Pork shoulder?  Not a problem. Tripe.  Got it.  Offal of all sorts?  Yippers.

Gone are the days of calling Stop & Shop the day before a BBQ and pleading them to save a pork butt before turning them all into sausage.  Food Basics always has a bunch of butts right there in the case.  Carnitas is only some onions, OJ, and fennel seed away.

Carnitas, Jim

The strangest thing I ate this week: boiled, and I mean BOILED, hot dogs

I'm not sure what Jim was thinking.  I know this much for sure:  he was excited that the Giants were in the playoffs, and he really really wanted some dirty water dogs for his party. 

Sounds like a pretty fool-proof plan to execute, right?  I mean, you got the Giants in the playoffs, you got a bunch of beersh, you got you a boatload of Sabretts (skinless, although I complained and instructed otherwise).  Seems like a perfect night.  One that could run on autopilot.

But something went wrong.  Horribly, horribly wrong. 

Pan roasted: potatoes

Every now and again you hit on something and you think "Hey, I have to remember that."  Even I, every now and again, hit on something, but even more rarely do I commit it to memory.  But I don't have to remember things because I have a blog, and can just type stuff in for near-instant recall.  This is one of those posts.

Duck confit, mushrooms: penne

What do you do when Chef Anthony LoPinto, from Fairfield's Crave Restaurant, gives you a handful of house-made duck confit to take home?

I found myself facing that question a few days ago.  After an outstanding meal at Crave the night before,  Chef gave me a 'care package.'  There are few ways to be taken care of more than you are when given a handful of duck confit.  Of this you are assured.

To answer my own question, since no one has raised their hand:  you say 'thank you' and you take it home.  And then you don't waste it.  You cook it.  The next night.  Because it's really good.

Ceci, shrimp: and chiles, a la Otto

Over on the blog I Am Not A Chef, the blogger known only as 'I Am Not A Chef' was discussing great and simple combinations.  Specifically, shrimp and cannellini beans.

I figured I'd one up him with an even more simple shrimp/starchy stuff combo:  Ceci, shrimp, chiles, a la Mario Batali's Otto.

The strangest thing I didn't necessarily eat last year

Brace yourselves.

On November 9th, 2007, I took these things:

Turned them into this stuff:

And made a few of these:

They were pretty good. Grinding your own hamburger meat is always preferable to buying that nasty stuff from the supermarket.  Although, given the chance, I just go to the Swiss Pork Store in Fair Lawn, NJ, and buy some of their freshly ground beef, which is simply the best.

Anyway, on November 17th, 2007, the kitchen started smelling prit-tee funky.  We searched high and low for the offending organic matter, which was clearly being consumed by micro organisms, which were in turn creating tiny but smelly micro organism farts and stuff.  We finally found the source of the odor:  the garbage disposal.

The people at Insinkerator claim that you can put just about anything down their disposals.  Who am I to question this.  However, when you put fat trimmings in there, and you kind of ignore them for several days, you apparently get this:

Washing pre-washed greens: Why?

Are you of the opinion that if your vegetable is "pre-washed", you don't have to wash it?  I'm not, for the following reasons:

1)  If your spinach is coming from a bag, it's going to smell a little funky.  It's not going to smell like a spinach patch, that's for sure.
2)  I can't imagine the factories are using just plain ol' water to wash your stuff.  There has to be something else in that water.  Chlorine, or something.  I'd google and confirm, but don't care enough about it because I know I'm right.

And the biggest reason I always wash my pre-washed stuff (no, not doodie):

New Year's Eve: food

"What did we eat for dinner last NYE?"

This question was posed to me by the missus moments ago.   I remember ending up at the neighbors' house up the street, eating tons of wonderful Cuban and Latino food (including, IIRC, fried pork belly), dancing (not me, necessarily), hanging out in the backyard in what I recall as 70 degree temperatures.  But what on earth did we eat before we headed down to the Cuban bash?

It took about 2 seconds before I realized that whatever it was, I most likely took a picture of it.  I don't know why I do what I do, but I do it.  Hell I've been taking crappy pictures of crappy food since 1998 or so.

A quick look at the 20061231 folder brings us to the answer...

Rib: roast

Ask 10 people what the "best" way to cook a rib roast is and 10 different answers you'll get. 

"Sear first"
"Don't sear"
"Blast it on high heat to form a crust and then lower the oven"
"Slow and low"
"Season first"
"Salt only after cooking"

You get the idea. 

My thoughts on this?  It probably doesn't matter.  Well, not my thoughts, they matter a lot  --  I mean I have a blog for cryin' out loud, so I must have something important to say.  But rather, the method of cooking probably doesn't matter all that much (unless you do something totally silly).  What matters is the piece of meat that you're starting with.  After that, you're just heating the thing up.

Potato: skins

The food stuff we throw out is oftentimes the best stuff.  Bones, chicken skin, fronds, leaves, stalks, tails and snouts, innards:  all good stuff.

I was making mashed potatoes the other day and peeled the potato skins into the sink, figuring they'd go down the disposal.  And then it occurred to me:  why?

I took them out of the sink, rinsed them off as far as you know, dried them, tossed them with EVOO, s/p, and baked them at 425 until they got crispy.

A better pre-dinner snack you will not find in your sink.

Next time, maybe some herbs?  Spices?

Oh for eff's sake, another burger: sure, why not

We're perdy.

Yer perrrrrrr-dy. 

I could lie and say that this was beef ground freshly in my kitchen, but there's no glory in that.   I bought it from Stop & Shop.  It was in their "upscale" case, though, where you'll find CAB (Certified Angus Beef) and other goodies.  Have a look-see.  And while you're at it, have a look in their "Natural" dairy section for some pretty darned good Greek yogurt.

I wanted to duplicate the burger that I've had at Morristown's Copeland, cuz that's a mighty good burger.   All I really had to go on was beef, cheese, and bacon, so I ran with it. 

Back in the kitchen: quite a decent burger

Searching for a good burger isn't fun.  It's depressing.  You follow crazy leads (Krug's Tavern, Newark - worth a visit), eat mediocre burgers that should be better (Harvest Bistro, Closter), and generally get bitter from the experience.  Or, more bitter, in my case.

The other night I was reminded that quite a decent burger can be found right in your kitchen.   My kitchen, more correctly.  This time around, it was a large, steakhouse style burger.

Egg on top: makes anything taste better

My three favorite words to stumble upon when perusing a menu?  "Egg on top."

It's really a simple concept:  an egg on top makes anything taste better.  I've figure that much out.  And if I've figured that out, then you should certainly have figured that out.  But just in case, here's a reminder.

Thai chili condiment

Did you ever go to a Thai restaurant and get a dish of that Thai condiment of chili peppers?  Sure you have.  Most Thai places serve one version or another.  When we order in for Thai from one of our local restaurants, we whip up a batch of our own.  It's simple and the ingredients can (should) be found in your pantry.   

Best of: 2006 NJ food retailers

There are plenty of great food retailers in New Jersey, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.  You no longer have to cross the river for top-notch ingredients and products. 

Here are some of the places that I found myself returning to again and again in 2006, and before that, and likely after that as well, which makes me ask how this post is specific to 2006 at all:

Lahori Chicken: Suvir Saran, Stephanie Lyness, and Riesling

I've been a fan of Indian food since my college years, when I first explored New York City in search of new and different foods like Thai and Vietnamese (they were "new" to me, since I had spent my whole life at the Jersey shore, and went to NYC only for museum visits, the circus, and a Yes concert on their 90210 tour, or whatever it was -- none of those trips included much eating).  I still remember my first visits to A Taste of India, which was, and I believe still is, on Bleecker in the Village.  These were certainly new and exotic flavors to my palate, and there's no reason you should care about any of that whatsoever. 

For some reason I've never tried to cook Indian food.   I've butchered Thai, and Japanese, and most other culture's foods, but never Indian.  A few weeks ago I figured it was about time, so I consulted a trusted source:  Suvir Saran.

The Lazy Spoon: quite a spoon

I found myself in Paramus, NJ's, Chef Central the other day.  Chef Central is a local, pricy store, but it's convenient, and they have some nice stuff.  ANYway I noticed Rachel Ray's line of pumpkin-colored cookware.  It catches the eye so I took a look.  Immediately I noticed that wooden spoon that she pimps on her show (which show, I don't know...I do watch all of them).  It's the spoon with the little notch in it that keeps it attached to your pot, as seen in the picture above.  I thought it was a nifty idea I guess.  And then I turned it over to look at the price.

tommy:tips:celery

Do you want celery to keep for a very very long time?   

The strangest thing I ate this week: golden garlic

I've cut open a lot of heads of garlic over the years.  Of this you are assured.  Just about everything that I cook has garlic in it.  Right or wrong.  Hell I even steep it in hot water, making "garlic tea," when I have a sore throat.  I'm not sure if it helps, but it sure is fun.

But I've never come across this:

Switch the dining room and living room: whats ya waitin for?

If you live in a house built before, oh, the late 1990's, like we do, this probably sounds familiar: 

You have a "formal dining room", which is small and gets no use until the holidays, at which time you try to cram way too many people into way too small a space at way too tiny a table. 

And you have a formal living room, which gets ignored because you likely have a family room or TV room where you spend most of your time when you're actually home and not working or running around, and that's where you eat dinner...sitting on the floor in front of the TV (OK, maybe you're not like us and you don't eat while sitting on the floor.  That's not important though).

Solution?  A several-hundred-thousand-dollar addition on the house.  Or, for a bit less, you flip the dining room and the living room...for good.

The Amish Market, NYC: Pizza

The Amish Market is a bit of a mini-chain of upscale gourmet food markets in Manhattan.   They've got a great selection of produce, cheeses, olives, desserts, breads, meats, fish, and practically everything else you'd ever need.  They also have a fair amount of prepared foods and nice hot/cold buffet-style selections.

The standout to my mind is the brick oven pizza.  It's really quite good.   

Trader Joe's in Paramus: let's see what they got

So an outpost of Trader Joe's moved into Paramus, NJ, a few weeks ago.  The internet and blogosphere were abuzz with excitement.  Neighbors were talking, people were phoning up the place, wondering when it would open, barely able to contain their excitement over the prospect of a Trader Joe's opening 5 miles (10 minutes on a bad day) from the existing Trader Joe's in Westwood.  Everyone, that is, except me.

The strangest thing I ate this week: what? huh?

Crispy ear from a pig that so selflessly gave its life so that a bunch of friends could eat.  OK, so it's not that strange.  And it really wasn't this week.  A few weeks ago, though.

Carbonara: hold the cream. I'm beggin' ya.

A few years ago we went to Italy for the first time.  Needless to say, we had a lot of memorable meals.  One dish, though, stood out.  It's the one we talk about the most.  It was spaghetti carbonara at a little unassuming place in Rome called Ai Tre Scalini.

Sitting in the shadow of the Coliseum we really didn't expect much (not that a bad meal in Italy isn't excellent by most barometers).  In fact, we only stopped in because the restaurant that we had planned on visiting had a line out the door, which was probably a bad sign anyway. Boy did we make the right choice.   The carbonara was so pure, and simple, and perfect.  Al dente pasta (obviously), crunchy yet soft and luscious pieces of guanciale that burst with flavor when chewed.  It was like no carbonara I'd ever eaten.  We liked it so much that we walked, literally, 5 miles in the rain later in the week just to order it for lunch again (you'd do the same).  This time it was fettuccini.

I've tried several times to duplicate this dish, with just OK results.  I think I'm actually getting close.  Finally.

Pimp my Weber: with stainless steel

My Weber Genesis Silver B has given my 5 years of great performance.  It goes on when I want it to (had to replace the igniter twice), it's sturdy, and it gets as hot as balls.  My only real complaint, and it's a big one, is that the grates are worthless. 

The strangest thing I ate this week: Reeses Cup thing

So, our friend  Kathy is a nice Italian girl who likes to cook.  The type of girl who will always bring something to your house, even if she's invited for a catered affair.  And her last visit was no exception.

Brick oven pizza: on a Weber gas grill

I think a hot dry environment is important to making Neapolitan style pizza.  A pizza stone helps you get close, but a standard oven only gives you so much heat.  The Neapolitans have it right with wood-burning brick ovens that get to temps over 800 degrees.  But who's got one of those.  Not me.  I've got a tank of propane and a Weber and a little too much free time.  So one day a few weeks ago I figured that I can get some heat out of that bad boy with a little thought.  And that's the point at which I briefly lost my mind.

Here's what I figured:

'tis a silly burger

Generally speaking, I prefer a grilled burger, about 6 ounces, over any other kind.  When done correctly, you'll get some wonderful char and end up with a nice, juicy beast of a burger.  So that's what I focus on.

But after seeing Hamburger America, a very tasty documentary by George Motz, it occurred to me that burgers can be good no matter how you cook them.  Specifically, griddle-cooked burgers can be wonderful. 

notable bites over the past week: 20060623

Here're some notes on a of a few of the bites I've had in the last week or so in New York and New Jersey (Wu Liang Ye, Dona, Bisto-en).  I just can't find the time to write up proper entries on these places.  Yet.

Ham/salt/water: from Kings Supermarket

What is it about just about every deli counter person that makes them think that you want your ham/salt/water product sliced super thin?  We ordered the "French ham" (made in Canada - and much much better than the run-of-the-mill ham/salt/water product from Thumann's and others, what with its fat cap and all) from our local Kings Supermarket today, and made the mistake of not following up the order with "not too thin."  If you don't specify "not too thin", you get "too thin."  They should just put it in a bucket and give you a straw at that point.

As I stand there in the kitchen, pulling off little bits of the stuff (since you can't possibly get a full slice out of it), I have to wonder "why?"  So really, why?  Maybe it's easier for them to slice when the slicer is set at a thickness where it's basically just shaving off bits of the ham/salt/water product?  I'm all for easier, and I'm no stranger to taking shortcuts at my job.  But come on.  Do they prefer it this way when they bring some home for themselves?  Or do they put in the extra effort if it's for their family and slice in actual slices.

The good thing about the too thin ham/salt/water product is that I can set it on top of a bottle my (and your) favorite Mexican hot sauce (Cholula, of course), and you can still read the label and see the pretty lady.  But, regardless of how cool that is, I still maintain that you shouldn't be able to see through your pork. 

 

BBQ ribs: here's the rub

BBQ has become a bit of a passion for me over the past year or so.  When I say BBQ (barbeque, or barbecue, if you like), I'm not talking about "grilling," which is generally defined as cooking over high and direct heat, or the event where a bunch of people get together and eat salads and hot dogs and hamburgers and get drunk (nothing wrong with those events, though).  No, I'm talking about good old fashioned American BBQ, which is basically the process of cooking with low and indirect heat and smoke (from burning wood).  BBQ is also a noun, describing the product of the BBQing process.  Now that that's out of the way....

pepper and salt pork: at home with Dr. L riesling

"Pepper and salt pork."  "Salt and pepper shrimp."  Goshdamnit every time I see any derivation of those words on a menu I get all crazy.   It's one of those dishes for which I actually get a physical craving:  the back of my throat gets all itchy and feels almost empty.  And if I don't get the flavor of Pepper and Salt Pork, I get all antsy.  And you don't want to see me when I'm antsy. 

These are dishes that are typical found on Shanghainese and Sichuan menus.  China 46 in Ridgefield, of course, has slammin' versions of these dishes.  Oh how I do love China 46.  But honestly, there're only so many times I can go to China 46 before Cecil starts really getting annoyed with me.  So, on occasion, I have to resort to making a facsimile at home.

Pepper and salt pork couldn't be simpler.  The secret ingredient isn't black pepper.  The secret ingredient is white pepper.  Ahhh, they said.  I can't stand white pepper.  It's got a weird fishiness to it that just doesn't compliment beef (beef, of course, gets the brunt of my pepper usage).  I don't even like it mixed in with black peppercorns. I recall a time about 3 years ago that I literally got into an argument with the manager of City Hall restaurant in NYC (known forever after that day as, you guessed it, "Shitty Hall"). <skip this whole part> I was really looking forward to trying their burger, as I had been reading rave reviews on it.  It came to the table, I grabbed the peppermill, and gave it a couple few-4-25 turns.  When my teeth sank into the burger, instead of getting all excited about its wonderful burgerness, I got a palate full of white pepper.  I asked the waiter why there was white pepper in a pepper mill, who said "that's the way the chef likes it."  Clearly a lie.  I asked "does the chef put white pepper on his steaks when he cooks them?"  He offered to get the chef to discuss this with me.  Well, the chef didn't come out, but the (a) "manager" did, and he said that it was a mix of peppercorns, and not white pepper (a mix, of course, is very fancy).  I opened the mill and poured about twenty into my hand, and upon noticing some random colors, he proudly and victoriously proclaimed "SEE!".  My manager friend's brain neglected to process that out of the 20 peppercorns, 17 where white.  Stupid friggin' white pepper. </skip this whole part>

Anyway, I'm almost over that episode, and I've certainly learned that white pepper is your friend (just not on burgers or steaks).  On to the quick, easy, cheap, and healthy process...

the best tuna sandwich: ever

I am telling you that I'm addicted to tuna sandwiches.  I don't know what it is about this stuff.  It doesn't fit my usual M.O.  It's canned, it's not sushi quality.  It's probably cooked to death.  But, practically every day for lunch I have a tuna sandwich from a nearby deli in NYC.  Other days, of course, I'm at Blue Smoke or Shake Shack or Wu Liang Le or Naples 45 or wherever my pangs take me.  But the tuna is what's really important right now.

Lidia loves tommy:eats!

In her cookbook, Lidia's Family Table, Lidia Bastianich waxes lovingly about tommy:eats.  Seriously:

Finally, the respect and acknowledgement that I yearn for.  That I live for.  That I clearly so desperately need.

Lidia's Family Table focuses on technique and ingredients.  Helpful pictures are scattered throughout, and it's filled with very helpful asides like serving ideas, Lidia's approach to salting, butter vs. olive oil, and what type of canned tomatoes you should be buying.

There are a bunch of recipes for quick and easy sauces, as well as no less than three dishes involving shoulders of one sort or another.  My kinda book.  And yours, too.

Not a Sunday goes by where the missus and I don't watch Lidia several times a day on the TV.  And regardless of what we've got planned for dinner, regardless of how many hours I'd been smoking a pork butt, or simmering short ribs, we always start craving Italian food, Lidia-style.  Like some sort of mind control.  Creepy.

Lidia's Italy

Several bad burgers: at restaurants, and one good one: at home

I sent my buddy dbrociner to Oceanos in Fair Lawn under the assumption that the burger might be good.  I only thought this because a bartender at Oceanos (Cara/Kara) told me that they had plans to have a really good burger at lunch.  Yeah, it's a Greek fish restaurant, but I thought "just maybe."

dbrociner took a hit for the team, folks, and I think you all should thank him.  You can see his reaction to the burger in the comments in the Oceanos post.   

Anyhow, having had a mediocre burger myself this weekend at Janice Bistro in Ho-ho-kus, and, getting the report from dbrociner, I was left with no choice but to make another burger at home.  I'm fed up with crappy burgers!!

Left-over steak? (yeah, it happens)

  After about 14 ounces of anything, I get bored.  and that goes for steak, too.  So, when I find myself eating a big dry-aged piece of beef for dinner, I don't force myself to finish it, because I know great things will be happening for lunch the next day.

One of my favorite uses for leftover steaks is the classic thai beef salad, often called yum nuea (the spelling varies).  It consists of sliced steak over greens, with an acidic, sweet, salty dressing made from fish sauce and lime juice, thinly sliced shallots or red onion, definitely some ground toasted rice and some herbs like mint and cilantro. But that's not important right now.  It's more important in the summer, but not right now.