Time To Make The Pizzas

I've come to that point...I'm now dreaming in pizza.

The other night Nicole got up to drain her oft-filled bladder, and while she was in the bathroom I stood up and went over to the bureau, which instead of being a familiar piece of furniture I thought was the pizza oven in which I had a pie that needed tending to.  Cooking in about a minute and a half, you can never take your eyes off the oven for more than 30 seconds, so I was convinced I had to make a quick move to turn it before one side got overcooked.  Nicole asked me what I was doing and I momentarily regained some semblance of reality, but I couldn't put together coherent words to explain myself.  Still not completely out of my dream state and confused, I went back to bed and just passed out, the pizza of my dreams left in half baked limbo.  It's like when I worked at the Longshore Ice Rink in high school and would dream I was working the register and sit up at night in bed and think I owed someone change.  Nightmarish.

The restaurant is open 7 days per week now, lunch and dinner straight through from noon to close.  I don't work all those shifts, and most of us are down to 5 day work weeks at this point, but the day to day repetition and aggregate time spent there mean life revolves around the pies.  It's seemingly impossible to get more than a day or two ahead of demand in prepping our ingredients, so we're always working against the clock to fill our station with all the accouterments in time for service.

As in DMX's breakthrough album "It's Cold And Hell Is Hot", every day is a battle, but in the case of the pizza man, it's the oven that tries to control me.  After 5 weeks or so I've learned some of the nuances of the 850 degree monster, and to force it to do my bidding rather than the other way around, well, sometimes. Building and maintaining a proper fire is something, from what Mario (Mario LaPosta, the Chef de Cuisine and senior pizza man, not Batali) says, that pizzaiolos in Italy go on at length about, distinguishing it as a craft unto its own aside from the making of  the pizza. 

This week I began the next frontier in pizza making, though probably not the final one, of stretching pies as they call it.  Not just putting them in the oven and cooking them, but first taking the disks of dough from the tray and stretching/working them into edible canvases.  Time is of the essence on this learning course so as to make me look legitimate in full view of our patrons who can see all the action at the open pizza bar (I'm not quite there yet, but my examples are usually roughly circular).  And to also free up Mario and Ruben, both veteran pizzaioli, who have been working with almost no time off since July because they're the only ones who to this point know how to make pizza from start to finish.

The skill of it is something that undoubtedly takes a good amount of time to learn, but to execute the stretching is a process of only about 30 seconds (unless you're the guy in the Visa commercial who rolls it around his back and along his arms), and given our volume of business, I'm getting a lot of practice.  I don't think I'll be tossing it in the air any time soon and bedazzling diners, but I basically have to become proficient at it within a few days since we don't have rolling pins, nor do we have anywhere to hide our mistakes.      

World Pizza Championship here I come 2013 or so (Mario placed 8th overall in 2010).

Quick Dins: Sea Scallops Over Tomato Relish

Quick meal, nutritious, summery...just what's needed sometimes.  Sweet, tender scallops atop a fine dice of roasted plum tomatoes seasoned with the "aroma" of garlic but mainly left to their natural sweetness derived from dry heat.  This would probably work as well as an app or tapa as it does an entree, since it lacks a little bit of carb component, but you can get creative on that.  The tomatoes can be made a day in advance or so and probably improve for it.  Once you have them relished like this, you'll see they're good underneath or on top of a lot of things.    

Ingredients For 2

1 lb. sea scallops (little membranes on the sides removed if not done by fishmonger)
3 lbs. plum tomatoes
Extra virgin olive oil
3-4 cloves of garlic, smashed
2 tablespoons white wine
2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
Salt and pepper to taste
Couple sprigs fresh thyme
Optional: aged balsamic for garnish
Basil to garnish

Preheat an oven to 350.  Slice the tomatoes in half, then remove the seeds and inner flesh.  Place all the scooped out halves in a mixing bowl, and toss with the thyme sprigs, wine, vinegar and enough olive oil to coat nicely. Season to taste with salt and pepper.  Drizzle some olive oil on a couple large baking sheets, then place the tomatoes on, cut sides down.  Arrange the smashed garlic on the pans and bake for an hour.  Let them cool to room temperature once out of the oven, then remove the tomato skins, which should come off easily.

Dice the tomatoes finely and try to keep them uniform in size.

Season the scallops with salt and pepper.  Heat a frying pan over medium high to high heat and add just a little oil to coat the pan.  When it smokes, add the scallops in one even layer, not over crowding the pan.  Cook in a couple batches if necessary.  Cook about two minutes per side, until there is a nice brown crust on each, and they turn from translucent to opaque.

Serve the scallops over the relish with some basil leaves and a conservative drizzle of extra virgin olive oil and aged balsamic if you like.

A Tale of One City, Two Areperas

After a long week of work, I had yesterday off from TL and decided to go out and taste some different food.  I've been to Valencia Luncheria before, but strangely never had their arepas or empanadas, two things foodwise Venezuela is best known for.  Valencia for a while was of the highest rated eating establishments in the Norwalk/Westport/Fairfield area with a 27 for food, so someone must have really liked it.  The tiny place is always crowded, especially around lunchtime.  A 15 minute wait for simple fried takeout  isn't surprising.  I opted for carne mechada in my arepa (typical Venezuelan slow cooked and shredded beef) and an empanada with black beans and cheese, no crazy flavor combo but bound to be good.  $7 plus change for both, and a satisfying and energy boosting lunch was mine.

First up I tasted the empanada...the dough, more sweet than savory, was thin and not too oily, just a bit of crunch and then into the hot interior of molten queso blanco and black beans with that signature Latin flavor of cumin, garlic and stock they're cooked in.  The beans weren't mushy, but starchy and firm enough to stand up to the heat, the cheese more there for texture than salinity.

The arepa was not quite as hot, with just a thin outer crust of the corn pocket providing the crunch, the rest of it mild without much salt and just simple corn flavor. It was not overstuffed with carne, just enough without it unfolding into a complete mess. The beef was very nicely cooked, very moist, tender and well shredded.  The flavors were simple and homey, like a good pot roast done with Venezuelan spices.  To dip was a bold chipotle sauce, spicy and smoky, and a pleasantly sour tomatillo salsa with always refreshing cilantro.  I probably could have eaten all of both, but my stomach was actually telling me when I was half done with each that I was satisfied.  My appetite has shrunk considerably in the 2+ weeks working in the restaurant.  Not that it should be taken as anything's wrong with the food...we're not stretching the meat sauce by adding ground thyroid glands or engaging in any unsanitary practices.  Just that smelling food all day decreases cravings and appetite, for me at least.        

Next stop, Westport Avenue and Masas Arepera for the same thing.  The stretch of Route 1 it's on is tough for new businesses...I've been going north and south through it as long as I remember, mentally cataloguing a fraction of the businesses located from the drive thru cleaners to Los Cabos, forgetting most of what's in between, until that one day every ten years I need to get a carpet cleaned.  I feel like people don't pull in on a whim to many of the tiny parking lots as they cruise by to take time checking out some of the small mom and pop type places.  Not a pedestrian-friendly area at all.  But that's America.  Some shops have surprisingly lasted years, but most of those who've opened in the last five are soon gone.  Remember Eno's Cheese Shop?  Yeah, that's what I thought.

Not that I wish anything but success for the people who decide to open up shop in the numerous and mostly tiny strip malls or whatever you'd call them.  Nicole and I always ponder though if the would-be entrepreneurs come from around here and know what the area is like...do they do their research?  If they do, do they think they're going to change the game and open a gem?  We all know the odds often thrown around on food establishments and their rates of success.  And lots of us have seen Kitchen Nightmares and other shows where you see what happens when people over-leverage.

I made the mile or so drive through that always congested crossroads of Norwalk and walking into Masas after Valencia was like night and day...despite it being twice the size, Masas was completely empty except for the couple of staff.  It's pretty new looking, with a blown up version of their menu on the wall, floor to the high ceiling to the left as you walk in, with pictures of a perro caliente and hamburguesa, among others, for visual aid.  Some items were curiously whited out with tape.  On the other side are huge photos showcasing the varied landscapes of Venezuela.

After ordering, as I waited I looked around to the other businesses in the area and noticed where there used to be a middle eastern joint was now a brand new Indian one.  Like I was saying...good luck, honestly.  I feel compelled to try it now.

Masas is slightly more expensive, but their arepa was definitely bigger than Valencia's.  Biting in to it, the meat was dryer and not as well shredded as Valencia's, and most importantly was significantly lacking in flavor.  Under-salted and devoid of that depth you should get from a good long cook with aromatics and spices.  The corn shell of the arepa was the right texture, for what it's worth.

The empanada was greasier than Valencia's, and the beans were mushier, again lacking their own distinct flavor.  Essentially just mushy brown/black stuff intermingled with melted white cheese.  Not terrible, but not memorable either.  I wanted to like it, wanted it to be good so I could say they really have something there.  But the feeling I got from the food was the feeling I got walking in; kind of indifferent, completely lacking the character and convivial vibe and commotion of Valencia.  They served one sauce with both my pockets, which seemed to be mayo based with some cilantro and a lot of garlic in it, nothing about it fresh or making for a particularly good condiment for either dish.

The same sentiment applied to Masas' location could be said of Valencia's, but in the case of the latter, they have become established as a gem within the strip mall landscape.  In this day and age of foodies and finding the next best thing wherever it may be, location and atmosphere aren't all that important.  In fact, sometimes less is more.  It's about good, distinct food.  If you ask a Venezuelan guy you know what he thinks of a place and he approves, it should be enough to keep it in business, considering how word travels (not that I asked anyone about Masas, but if I had a Venezuelan friend, I would have consulted them).  I didn't order up a huge sample from either place on my lunch journey, so to be fair maybe Masas' does have some redeeming dishes, but considering they call themselves an arepera, I don't think I can be blamed for not delving deeper.

Tarry Lodge Westport Is Here

How do I know?  Well, after years of deliberating and many a conversation with people about ways to put my love of food and all things Italian to practical use after my stint in Italy, I took the plunge when offered the job working the pizza oven at the new Tarry Lodge in Westport, situated in the space formerly occupied by Bonda and Abbondanza. 

As of this Tuesday, July 18th, we're officially open for business.  The past week has been one of long hours of work prepping and testing the menu, as well as getting all the new staff oriented and ready to go.  Mario LaPosta, the perfectionist pizza maestro and guy who hired me, has been working particularly hard, but for months not weeks to get the place up and running, along with Executive chef Andy Nusser. 

As for me, it's been an interesting and memorable experience donning the chef's clothes (not a fan of baggy pants) to step back into the realm of cooking for strangers.  It's amazing how much you learn and the comfort level you achieve in a short span of time when you're working with food 10-12 hours a day.  I have a ways to go to master the beast of an oven we have at TL, optimal operating temp of about 850° F,  but the product promises to be good and comes closer to vera pizza napoletana than anything else I've seen around here.

If you know me reasonably well or have read my profile here, you make pick up on an element of fate in all this...after all, as I've said before, Mario "Battaglia" Batali was the reason I began cooking.  So when news came that he and business partner Joe Bastianich would be expanding their empire up I-95 into Fairfield County, it seemed like I had to take a shot considering things seemed to be coming full circle in a way. 

Anyway, I've got to get back to it, but I hope to have more to tell about the experience in the coming days...

Summery Corn Risotto with a Dash of Pancetta & Fennel

Why eat carbs with carbs, like rice with corn?  Or pizza with potato?  Because who's really counting if it tastes good?  Sweet corn, even local, is around early in the Summer now, and when it's good I walk an ever thinner line of under cooking so as not to mess with it, just something so I can say it's not completely raw.  Here it's just barely altered at the end of the risotto cooking process, staying crunchy and accented by the familiar flavor of butter, like the stick of which I used to roll ears in growing up.  

The addition of the sauteed fennel and pancetta is optional...what I like is that anise complexity of fennel quickly sauteed yet still sort of crunchy, and the porcine salinity of unsmoked pancetta.  I think they play well off the buttery, sweet corn and the creamy rice. 

You don't necessarily need a rich broth or stock with which to craft fine risotto, water itself is a perfectly good vehicle.  When I made this I had a rind of parm leftover, so I put it in my simmering water shortly before I began the risotto process, to good effect. 

2 cups Carnaroli, Vialone Nano or Arborio rice

1/2 cup dry white wine

2 ears of sweet corn, kernels cut off

1 head of fennel, medium diced

1/4 lb. pancetta, medium diced

1 liter water or stock

optional: Parmigiano Reggiano or Grana Padano rind to flavor broth

1 small onion, finely diced

Salt and Pepper to taste

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, plus 2 for the pancetta and fennel

2-3 tablespoons butter cut into 1/2 inch or so cubes

Parmigiano Reggiano to taste

Handful of fresh parsley, roughly chopped

Bring the water (rind or not) or stock to a boil, then let it simmer.  Season, if need be, so it's very mildly salty. 

Heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil over medium heat in a saute pan, and add the pancetta while the pan is still heating up.  Allow the pancetta to render some of its fat and when it begins to brown, add the fennel and raise the heat to high.  Cook, tossing or mixing occasionally, for about 5 minutes or until the fennel has taken on some color and is soft but not mushy, and the pancetta slightly crispy.  Remove from heat and set aside. 

Heat the remaining olive oil over medium heat and when it shimmers add the onion, sweating for a couple minutes until translucent, then add the rice.  Cook it, stirring frequently, until it begins to brown ever so slightly, mindful not to let the onions burn.  At this point add the wine, letting it almost completely dissolve, then begin adding ladles of broth to just cover the rice.  Stir or shake the pan occasionally, adding more liquid when it looks like it needs it. 

Check for doneness at around 20 minutes, and assuming it's close, add the raw corn kernels to the risotto.  When the rice is pleasantly al dente, turn off the heat and stir the butter in.  Begin grating the Parmigiano in and taste it after a few tablespoons' worth to see if it's to your liking.  The risotto at this point should be creamy and not too dry.  Add a little broth if it seems too tight.  Season to taste with salt and pepper and add the parsley. 

Serve the risotto with some of the fennel and pancetta on top, allowing diners to mix it in themselves.  Serve with extra Parmigiano Reggiano to garnish.