Passover Stressing You Out?

From Exodus 12:14 and 15: “This day shall be for you a memorial day, and you shall keep it as a feast to the LORD; throughout your generations, as statute forever, you shall keep it as a feast. Seven days you shall eat unleavened bread. On the first day you shall remove leaven out of your houses, for if anyone eats what is leavened, from the first day until the seventh day, that person shall be cut off from Israel.”

Well now that my brother lives in Israel, I rather not be cut off from the homeland, so I won’t be consuming any of the “5 forbidden grains”: wheat, barley, spelt, oats, rye—chometz, if you will. But what is this about an abandonment of rice, lentils, chickpeas, and now corn and thus corn starch and corn syrup? And don’t think that you can just drink away the pain of giving up your favorite corn-syrup treat, like chocolate Easter eggs in my case—ironic, I know—because all beer and most liquor are off limits as they were allowed to ferment, a luxury that the Ancient Egyptian fugitives did not have.

I think that limiting yourself to eating only foods that are not wheat, spelt, oats, barley, rye, legumes, corn, or rice is another way of agreeing to a seven-day starvation.

Exploring this further, I read that in the Middle Ages, rice, lentils, chickpeas, and fava beans were ground into flour, which put them in a state that could be confused with the true grains. That's unfortunate, but, as far as I know, the original trendsetters did not seem to have this problem. It seems unnecessary to make amendments to my Passover shopping list when the purpose of this holiday is for it to be a "memorial day," and not just something the French created with their mustard seed addition. Thank you France.

When deciding your own dietary restrictions this holiday season, I think it’s important to consider what Passover means to you. To me, it is a remembrance and honoring of the original miracle. So, bring on the hummus! 

nooch

If it wasn’t the funky tables with curved bamboo centerpieces then it was the fun menu with neon green writing that reeled me into Nooch in Amsterdam.

Although Nooch fails to provide the most authentic of Thai food, the trendy atmosphere and great sharing dishes made for a good dining experience.

Not knowing what to expect after ordering the “Chinese Pearl” appetizer, I was thrilled when four stuffed pastries arrived at the table. The “deep fried pancake” was like a miniature piecrust. The shell was very crispy, creating some difficulty upon eating, but this was a mere hiccup once I was introduced to the seasoned mushroom filling.

Sautéed soft, the mushrooms were met with shredded carrots, lettuce, green onions, oil and spices. The mixture created an explosion of flavor, especially when paired with the red sauce that tasted like Sriracha. The heat from the sauce added that perfect kick to bring the dish to the next level.

The Pad Thai was bizarre. The attractive presentation was a nice touch—a bright 

green leaf lined the white plate—and if the dish had been named different, then maybe I would have been more pleased. The fact that neither the noodles nor the preparation met my expectations of traditional Pad Thai left me slightly disappointed. The noodles were wide and the flavor was bland. I think some sliced cherry tomatoes found their way onto my plate as well, which was a little odd. Whole peanuts, instead of crushed, topped off the dish, fragmenting the ingredients rather than bringing them together.

Regardless of the underwhelming noodle dish, the friendly staff and delicious starter were enough to tempt me to return to Nooch. There are too many enticing dishes I have not yet experienced for me to write off this restaurant just yet.

nooch

Reestraat 11 1016 DM Amsterdam

+31(0)20 622 21 05

goodfortune@nooch.nl

www.nooch.nl

Open daily: 11.00-23.00

Pancakes! Not your Mamma’s Flapjack

Amsterdam is like the pregnant woman’s fantasy, for you can find a restaurant that caters to almost any bizarre craving combination that you can conjure up. When I heard that the Dutch love pancakes, I had no understanding of the severity of this patronage until I visited Pancakes! in the Nine Streets.

Every part of this quaint, two-story pancake café—from the blanketed bench outside the front door to the intricately designed tabletops—is packed with personality. If you’re not delighted yet, then take a look at the wonderfully overwhelming menu. With over 30 options, you will not be disappointed.

The charm is in the details. An order of hot chocolate arrives with whipped cream sitting atop a glass partition as to prevent it from dissolving until you want it to.

The true spectacles were, of course, the pancakes. The “Pancakes! Dutch De Luxe” 

pancakes are very thin, resembling an open-faced crepe, with an elaborate assortment of toppings. A slice of delicately browned goat cheese can sit on a bed of spinach, garlic oil, salad pits and pine nuts for €9.80.

I have never been a ham fan (bacon’s a different story), but when you crisp the edges and serve it with camembert cheese embedded in thin pancake dough that is then drizzled with raspberry sauce, then that’s something I can support.

With this unique ensemble of ingredients, I felt obligated to visit Pancakes! a second time. 

The apple pancakes are delicately crafted as the cooks handpick thin apple slices and place them beautifully in the pan. The open kitchen displayed the artistic talent and multitasking skills necessary to pull off this beautiful feat.

Poffertjes turned out to be pan-seared—note the glistening oil—miniature fluffy pancakes. For only €5.50, I was served an army of these little cakes, drizzled in a decadent dark chocolate sauce, and served with a large scoop of vanilla ice cream. Indulgence has just reached a new level.

Whether you have a week or just a weekend in Amsterdam, I absolutely suggest that you visit Pancakes!, where going once just isn’t enough.

PANCAKES! Amsterdam


Berenstraat 38
1016GH Amsterdam

+31 (0)20 528 97 97 

Broodje Bert: The Greatest Honor to the Sandwich Name

Nervously peddling down the uneven brick paths of Amsterdam on my new set of rental wheels, I credit fate for bringing me to Broodje Bert, for this was where my bicycling skills had landed me—on the ground outside of the small corner shop, home to a sandwich so spectacular you'll want to write it a thank you note.

I sat at a low wooden bar facing a window that provided a view of the open kitchen.  After getting a feel for the scene and scoping out the action over at the grill, I decided on the mozzarella-tomato-pesto sandwich, to which I added a grilled chicken breast.

This place was like Subway’s refined older brother with its selection of oils, herbs and fresh vegetables -- and when I say fresh I mean the tomatoes were plucked from the vine right in front of me.

Every sandwich came with the works. What that entailed was beyond me as the 

language barrier and glass shield inhibited my ability to read the labels on the oil and 

herb containers. However, I did have the honor of witnessing the birth of my sandwich, constructed by the cooks as if by instinct: corn, red peppers, tomatoes and lettuce all joining the party in one swift motion. Then came some wondrous combination of salt, freshly cracked pepper, dried oregano and vinegar.

This untamed beauty remains to be one of the most beautiful culinary creations I have ever seen. The dazzling display of vibrantly colored tomatoes and arugula could only be matched by its crisp, fresh taste.  While in the oven, it seemed as though the pesto had proposed to the mozzarella, and after a momentary broil, the two were inseparable. This kind of artwork deserves attention from multiple angles:

The only element to surmount the greatness that had already been established—the stunning veggies, the softened cheese, the crisped juicy chicken—was the ultimate blend of oil/herb perfection. The seasonings and vinegar created a new intra-sandwich hierarchy, under which all ingredients wanted to cooperate.

By neglecting to taste the indulgences at Broodje Bert upon traveling to Amsterdam, you are only cheating yourself. Now, if you would excuse me, I need a moment.

BROODJE BERT

Singel 321, 1012 WK Amsterdam

Hours: 8am – 5pm

+31-20-623-0382

Easy-to-make Valentine's Day treats

Sometimes, it can be mutually beneficial to take advantage of friends who are easily impressed. My easy-to-make white chocolate covered pretzels are a snack that continually manage to astound people. I get to enjoy my new position as queen of creativity and craft while my friends get to enjoy free candy.

However, I may have allowed my ego to get the better of me. Although I usually resort to just using a microwave to melt the white chocolate (hence the easy factor), I decided to upgrade my white chocolate to double-boiler status. If you've never used a double-boiler before, then this will be as much of an adventure for you as it will be for me.

Ingredients:

• one bag of white chocolate morsels
• one bag classic-style pretzel rods
• one pot
• one mixing bowl that, when placed on top of pot, is large enough to create a seal with the rim of the pot, preferably glass or metal
• spatula
• wax paper
• one sheet pan
• sprinkles
• paper plate

Procedure:

Essentially, a double boiler is like a makeshift fondue pot. Heat water in the pot, but do not bring it to a boil. The goal of this double-boiler process is to have the steam of the water heat the bottom of your mixing bowl, which is why you want to choose a bowl that seals the steam in from the top. So, clearly, I missed the boat with this Pyrex idea.

After a few more failed attempts using a skillet, a sauce pan, and a plate (don't question my motives), I finally landed on this bright blue mixing bowl, which I hoped was microwave-safe. It perfectly sealed in the steam and was deep enough for dipping my pretzel sticks.

Sure enough, after only a few minutes, the morsels were melted into a thick cream. I tried to better distribute the heat by mixing the chocolate with the spatula before going in for the kill.

The bowl wasn't deep enough to accomplish my preferred coverage, so I used the spatula to smooth the chocolate down the pretzel.

After letting the excess drip back into the bowl, I embellished the sticks with some sprinkles, with a plate underneath me, before placing the final pretzel sticks on a sheet pan lined with wax paper.

And, the classy line:

Happy Valentine's Day! 

I Butteri: Pizza Griglia & Co.

Don't be misled by food fairy tales of overwhelming and life-changing dining experiences in Rome. Like all big cities, Rome, too, has its share of crap.

As I discovered the hard way, it may not be in your best interests to equate restaurant popularity with food quality. Italian schools must teach students that when you copy off others, you are only cheating yourself of a good meal. If only American schools had such applicable lessons and maybe I wouldn't have ended up at the Longhorn Steakhouse of Italy.

Let me be the first to admit that it's no one's fault but my own that I did not immediately question the legitimacy of a grill/pizzeria in Italy with only one pasta dish on the menu: the vegetarian option. I attribute this lapse in judgement to the language barrier.

The vegetarian I dined with clearly had an easy decision to make. Meanwhile, I worked my way through I Butteri's selection of meats, whose praises were being sung all over the front of the menu. From what I could deduce by eyeing other tables, the grilled meats seemed to be served on mini skillets. I was sold.

Asking servers for their menu favorites is completely against my beliefs. I don't approve of friends ever asking for such erroneous and irrelevant information. With that said, the menu had minimal explanation, so I resorted to asking our waiter of his thoughts. This served as his cue to point out the priciest dish on the menu, the lamb chops, which were evidently different than the lamb shank offered at half the price. Thank you for your thoughts Antonio, but I think I'll go with the shank.

As it had been nearly an entire two hours since we last ate (which I believe is considered fasting in Italian culture), we were starving, so we decided to try the "grilled cheese" starter.

Essentially, a mild cheese resembling mozzarella was melted in a miniature baking pan over the grill. When Antonio brought the glob to our table, we had no better idea than to just fork it, which proved to be a complex procedure as the pan was light enough to slide around the table with each stab of the fork but too hot to hold in place. The cheese tasted just as it sounds -- inherently delicious.

As we waited for the main courses to arrive, sizzling skillets with a variety of meats sent smoke signals throughout the restaurant, amping me up for the grill selection I was about to experience. I spotted our server stepping out of the kitchen, and my heart began to beat wildly until I realized that he bore gifts for another table: a dull white plate instead of my sizzling skillet.

He then passed by our table, placing the dull white plate at my seat.
   

Was Antonio mad at me? I had been shanked by the shank. I should have splurged for the lamb chop via skillet. Now, I was stuck with skewered fat trimmings, five potato wedges, and a bowl of lima beans floating in a questionable liquid. The lamb had adhered to the skewers as if by super glue. During the occasional instances when I succeeded in tearing off a Euro-sized piece, I discovered that I was eating fat marbled with meat. The most alarming feature of this dish, aside from the lima bean display, was that, given the dominance of fat on each skewer, the meat was surprisingly dry and flavorless.

If you have only four days in Rome, I suggest you spend your time elsewhere. And if you live in Rome, I suggest you do the same.


PIZZA GRIGLIA & Co. 

Piazza Regina Margherita 28/29 - 06.8548130

Della Palma: Gelato di Roma

Over 100 flavors of gelato are flaunted in a glass case covering over half the perimeter of a room that's about three times the size of an average gelateria -- Baskin Robbins, eat your heart out. 

I stood at the doorway, frozen from sensory overload, devising my plan of attack in this gelato/ candy store that bore a striking resemblance to a Disney World gift shop.

My strategizing failed to get me very far because, after I had finally decided on where to stand in line, it took me ten more minutes to realize that there was, in fact, no line. After a moment of internal panic (and another 10 minutes) I discovered the following: first pay at register, then collect sweet treat. Why is it always the case that it's in critical times such as this that we misunderstand the instructions.

By my calculations, I was now about 30 minutes into my first experience at Della Palma and yet still had no gelato.

Golden ticket in hand (my receipt), I had gained the confidence I needed to approach the hoard of sweet-tooth-driven tourists who crowded the opulent display case. The flavors ranged from the classic stracciatella to some more artfully crafted combinations like this wonderful gelato interpretation of chocolate covered strawberries.

If you remember nothing else about Della Palma, remember this: All's fair in love and war. Be aggressive or forever be senza gelato. You must be willing to force, jab, and kick your way into that mob at all costs. Keep in mind how it is easier to ask forgiveness than permission. Breaststroking your body to the front of the crowd with a simple "scusi" will do.

With the success of acquiring my long-awaited and well-deserved two scoops, I walked out onto the streets of Rome to chow down. I had a difficult time detecting the flavor through the thick cream of the frozen treat -- perhaps because one of the flavors was "crema." I chose "nutella" for my second scoop. Both were so overpoweringly rich in cream that I almost had trouble finishing off my cone.

If you're looking for options -- as well as a moment of heightened blood pressure -- then Della Palma is definitely your scene. Otherwise, I recommend wandering around the streets of this area a little more and finding one of the smaller mom-and-pop gelaterias. 

Because let's be honest -- when in Rome, who needs the stress?

Gelateria Della Palma, Rome

via della Maddalena, 20/23, Rome 00186  

Phone +39 066 880 6752

Hours: Mon. - Sat. 8am-1:30am